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Because sometimes my attention span just isn't up to writing long blog posts...

Bits and Bytes of the Postmodern Sexgeek AKA Marie

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.

Trust Women: Blog for Choice 2010

Trust women. Two simple words and yet there is a world of meaning in them. What exactly does it mean? I suspect that everyone will have a different idea. When I see that phrase one of the first things I think about is how we women are often raised to mistrust each other. Some of us taught that every woman is competition for scarce resources, usually men, and therefore we should never place our trust in each other. I was lucky in that I didn't learn this lesson growing up. Instead I learned that women were the ones I could trust to be there for me, nurture me, love me. Trust women.

Narrowing my scope a bit, the phrase has another meaning as well. A meaning that is part of what today is all about. Choice. Trusting women to make choices about our bodies, our health, our lives. Our right to have self determination, agency. Our right to decide for ourselves what to do not only with our reproduction but our entire bodies. Choice does not just mean that I get to choose whether to continue a pregnancy. It means that I also have the right to choose whether I get pregnant at all. It means that I can choose what sorts of medical procedures will be done to my body and why. It means that I get to choose what my body looks like and how I want to make it look that way, regardless of whether others approve or disapprove. It means I choose who has access to my body or that I can choose to allow no one access to it. Bodily determination is not something we should have to limit to our genitals or reproductive organs.

Trust women. Let's not forget the importance of defining the word "women". Too often those of us who lay claim to the title feminist or womanist forget that not every woman is like us. Not every woman is cisexual, cisgender, heterosexual, lesbian, white, brown, black, middle class, wealthy, poor, degreed, living in the US. Not every woman has access to the internet, to safe living conditions, to health care. When we say trust women we must mean it in our soul. Every woman, no matter how different she is from us, must matter and must be trusted. If we, the "pro-woman" individuals, cannot say this and mean it down to our souls, if we cannot encompass the variety and richness of what being a woman is, then how can we expect anyone else to? How can we claim to fight for women's right to choose when we do not include every woman in that very word? It's simple. We cannot. We must fight through the various intersections of privilege we all have to see to it that when we say things like "trust women" or "right to choose" that none of our sisters is excluded, ignored, abandoned, neglected. If we can lift up and support the most marginalized of our hermanas then our ability to lift up the most privileged of them will follow as well. This should be our ultimate goal

Trust women. It is possible. It is necessary. And we must begin to make it truth.

I'll have 3 Wrath, 4 Gluttony and 10 Lusts please! Oh and a Pride and Sloth on the side also.

According to New Orleans Magazine, today marks the official beginning of the Mardi Gras Season. Now unfortunately, I will once again NOT be attending Mardi Gras but in the spirit of the season I suppose I should get down to the sinning since it's no fun if you can't confess anything on Ash Wednesday right? A girl needs to earn her ashes and all that rot so I better get serious about it. I just need to decide which of the 7 Deadlies I am going to indulge in this happy season. I know I have wrath covered because...well, just because. Gluttony will be covered if I succeed in my plan to master at least one version of Mole. Sloth is an easy one to cover on weekends assuming I get a chance to do so since lately I've ended up with all kinds of engagements. Pride? Oh yeah, I've got that one down pat. As for lust...well, I've got that but i don't know if it counts if you're not actually, yanno, doing anything about it so we shall see on that one. Unless lusting for shoes..no, that would be Envy I think. At any rate, yes, I need to make with the sinning. You'll understand of course if I end up a little busy these next few weeks, yes? ;-)

Happy Holidays for Whom?

Holidays « gudbuytjane

Dismantling oppression requires acknowledgment of privilege, which is a difficult thing to do. We’re trained to evade it and to feel emotions such as anger and defensiveness when presented with it, because to acknowledge our privileges as individuals acknowledges the system from which that privilege arises. Still, if we are truly invested in change and seeking progressive alternatives to the way things are, we must be willing to engage that discomfort.

Acknowledge your privilege this holiday season. Not “in the spirit of the season” – that phrase is couched in the hypocrisy of the public moralizing of an oppressor culture – but against the notion of a culture that abandons those who most need love and acceptance while promoting empty images of family and community. Acknowledge that, as you sit down to dinner with your family or loved ones, there are those who are not welcome to do the same with their families, and that a disproportionate number of those people are transgender or transsexual.

Despite any kvetching on my part about mi familia, at least I am lucky enough to have a family that loves and accepts me as well as my cis gay sister, uncles and cousins. Not everyone is so lucky.

Peace on Earth, Goodwill to Humanity. No exceptions. No qualifications.