Life is short, boo, get to livin' or get to steppin'.

Wow, I haven't posted since September of 2010. That's wild! I'm sure lots of people think that the Postmodern Sexgeek is done. Over. Finished. Finita la commedia and all that rot.

Yeah, not so fast. I'll admit I've gotten out of the habit of blogging. Life being what it is, I threw myself into the melee after the dissolution of my marriage and have been stumbling around trying to figure out this thing called life on my own. I've been somewhat successful in some areas and not so successful in others but as always, I continue to learn and I continue to change and grow. The day that stops happening, you might as well call Dr. Kevorkian because I've obviously given up on life.

I'm still doing the HIV prevention gig though I suspect I am not long for that world. The economy has not exactly been kind to public health endeavors and if I don't jump ship soon, it might just sink with me on it and no one likes that. I have no idea what I'll do next though. I'm seriously considering going back to school to earn my Masters degree in Applied Anthropology but that really depends a lot on funding and right now, baby, funding is something I do not haz.

I've started dating again and um...yeah. That's an occasionally unpleasant experience though there have been a few bright spots. There's also been some unintentional comedy but I'll have to address that some other time because it really is it's own separate blog.

Also on the list for a whole separate post are my ruminations on nonmonogamous/open/polyamorous relationships and dating. For now let's just say that "it's complicated" in both lovely and frustrating ways. The person I ended up dating in that fashion is wonderful in many ways but is also occasionally infuriating and too cocky for his own good (or for his age).

And yes, gentle reader, yours truly has discovered that she appears to have become, completely unintentionally, that urban legend known as a cougar. I didn't exactly set out to do so but I am finding that men my age are not terribly interested in me. Now before you roll your eyes at me, let me just say that I am down for dating men my age. The maturity gap to be found between a woman in her 40s and anyone in their 20s is pretty significant and occasionally make one want to tear out her hair. I suppose that's another blog post, innit?

Perhaps one of the things I am proudest of right now is my return to martial arts. In February I began training in Krav Maga, which is an Israeli style. It is brutal, no nonsense and effective and I currently feel far more able to defend myself than I did before I began not to mention the fact that I've managed to lose some weight while doing it. I also gained an incredibly awesome sparring partner who for now shall simply be called the Sparring Partner of Doom, or SPoD for short. She's much more protective of her online ID than I am so I will not be naming her but I will say this. She's very cool and exceedingly hot. Sorry sports fans, she's also taken so no, you cannot meet her.

I've been kicking around the idea of starting the podcast up again though I have no clue what to talk about or if anyone would even care. Then again, I think I said that when I first started it and it seemed to do ok so...who knows.

So yes, folks, I am still out here. I am still alive and I am still striving to refine this creation that is me. What the future holds in store for me, I do not know but I suspect it won't be boring.  I wonder which of you might be coming on the journey with me. ;-)

I must absolutely add that the title of this post was originally stated by my dear friend, Russ Matthews. Not only is he good at pithy commentary on my personal life, he is also a struggling photographer in the Kansas City area. Check out his site and pass it on.

Culinary Therapy

What's a lady to do when she's singing the blues? Some drink, some actually do sing others may go see their therapists. Me? This mujer goes to the store, buys tasty ingredients and cooks.

There is something incredibly soothing about the various steps that go into preparing a meal. I find a certain zen meditative state when I'm chopping vegetables, preparing my pots and pans, activities that I have performed countless times that feel as comfortable and familiar as my own skin. At the same time it's also a very sensual experience. Each step in the process invokes my senses: the myriad shades of green and cream on the inside of a brussels sprout, the scent of shallots frying in butter, the sizzle of the fish as I slide it into the pan. And we cannot forget the reward of the taste of food freshly prepared by one's own hands. I cannot draw, paint or even take an inspired photograph but I can create delicious works of art with my hands that fill the palate with layers of flavors like the paint on a canvas.

So what was on my menu tonight? Tilapia in a white wine/lemon/butter sauce and roasted balsamic brussels sprouts. For dessert I cheated and bought a mini apple pie from Whole Foods. And oh yes, dear reader, it was all quite sabroso.

I will take my kitchen over Freud any day.

Yes, I am still alive.

Wow, has it really been 8 months since my last post? I hadn't really forgotten about this blog, not completely. I think I just felt like perhaps the Postmodern Sexgeek had reached the end of her tenure online. Now I'm not saying I am no longer a sexgeek, Heaven forfend! That's a lifelong thing and one I will never give up. Rather, I felt as if I had reached the end of my public persona.

When my marriage ended a lot things changed for me and I started questioning everything about my life and work. Was it real? Was it authentic? Did I even know what the fuck I was talking about? The blog fell silent though I myself did not. Any of you who follow me on Twitter can attest to that. At this point I am not entirely certain what the future of this blog holds but I do know that I continue to live and I continue to have opinions, thoughts and feelings about everything in my life both near and distant.

Perhaps I will continue to blog here. I have ideas, topics that I mull over in my head constantly though it isn't often that I commit them to words on a screen or if I do it's in my personal space where very few have access to them. We shall see.

I'm not sure how many of you are actually still around or are still reading but if you are, thank you. And even if there's no one out there at this time, I'll continue to write because honestly, it's good for me and I've been out of the habit for far too long.

Mature, full bodied and complex

And the rest of you.

I was just telling a friend how I have been fighting with my own insecurities lately around my self esteem, my appearance, my age. Lo and behold one of my favorite Twitterers/bloggers/activists/cool dudes, Nezua of The Unapologetic Mexican, posted this:



it's time to call it a tumblr day when... - imaginando

its part of that ageist thing in (at least US culture). we have unspoken fears that all we are worth is our tight skin and firm shapes. rarely is it reinforced that living years gives you an arc to better compare changes and events in life; compare people, seeing more people and hearing more stories gives you a wider context of information to tally and thus KNOW things and understand them; having had more relationships has taught you more about yourself as well as people as well as relationships; that watching your body wear out inevitably forces you to shift focus onto Essence (knowledge, creative spirit, love power, maturity), not Symbol (tight abs, tight skin, perkiness); that more time spent on Earth generally means more patience or a clearer focus, you’ve had time to test out many distractions and now are on your way to learning how to see past your own defenses and have shed more misconceptions (or at least had the time to work at it), and so now can learn from those older than yourself, as well as learn from the young while at the same time put up with their condescension, as they too, been often been raised in an ageist culture, themselves. In other words, you will get the chance to face that cocky, stupid, shallow punk you may have once been!

It’s worse when the aging defer to the early part of the circle; deny age, are shamed of age, try to be younger than they are….this sends a message to the young(er) that we ought fear age, we ought think little of it, that all that matters is the beginning of the arc and that is a dangerous and wrong thing to teach.

I am proud of my years. I am so much more than I was 20 years ago. And more than I was ten years ago. And now, am released from fearing age quite as much as I did, because I know it means more wisdom and less ignorance. If I want it to, that is. Because it also requires work.

I find the ageism thing is particularly hard on women. We really are encouraged to maintain a youthful appearance as long as possible and there are companies all over the world making megabucks on just that bullshit. It's hard to buck that social programming, I know I fail at it quite often.

It's especially hard now that I find myself single again at 38. I'm no longer a cute twenty something with tight skin and perky tits. I don't begrudge young women those things because, yanno, I was there once too and it was fun but I do realize that I need to not mourn what I've lost because in so many ways, I've gained. Yes, at 18 I had a hot body and nice skin but guess what? I was also ridiculously insecure and inhibited. Nowdays, things aren't so lovely on this face and body but my mind is a much sexier playground than it used to be.

I guess the trick is to stop worrying about the people who think I'm less desirable/interesting/fun beause of my age and spend my time around those who love me and my laugh lines.

I found this on in my email today thanks to the sex workers advocacy email list and thought it was by far one of the better musings on the Spitzer situation.

Up to now it has all been hand wringing and condemnation but, being the sexgeek that I am, I am more interested in the whys and wherefores of why powerful people take such chances with their career and life. After all, men in positions of power have always had access to willing (and occasionally unwilling) women and men for sexual purposes. Why do they need to pay for it? What is that all about? According to the writer, who is also a therapist, they do it because when you pay for it, there is no need to worry about "her" satisfaction because you've already taken care of her therefore, it's ALL about you. Now even though I realize how that may sound, I'd be lying if I said I didn't understand. As someone in a position where I often feel responsible for other people, regardless of whether that's true or not, the idea of being able to have someone else focus on me without my having to expend any emotional energy whatsoever is highly seductive. Now granted, for me that means a professional massage as opposed to sex but the concept is the same. I pay the RMT his/her fee and I can lay back and relax and not worry about trying to engage them in conversation or whether I am being compassionate enough or if I am listening actively enough. It's a nice break from the usual dynamic I have with human beings on an everyday basis.

I can also agree with the writer in that this particular way of seeing the world tends to interfere with one's personal relationships. When you often see interpersonal relationships as one more responsibility, one more life for you to be responsible for, is it any wonder that you might shy away from them? Even the ones you already have?

Yeah, fucked up, I know, but it is what it is. At the very least I acknowledge this and it helps me to stop my "stinking thinking", as they call it in the world of rehab, and start to acknowledge that yeah, most of my loved ones are capable of taking care of themselves. Gee what a thought. :)

At any rate, the article gave a different look at what happened and it was thought provoking, to me. Give it a read and tell me what you think.