The End is Near

I stole this from a totally random blog today, but it pretty much sums up my view of the whole bailout/nationalization/financial bullshittery currently mucking up our economy.

I spent this weekend at a beach house in San Clemente with some friends from college -- some I see about once a month, and a few I probably haven't caught up with for 20 years. I was reminded why it's depressing to go back to any kind of reunion -- it's hard to see how people have changed from how you remember them. Lenore, Tish, Gene and I seem to have aged pretty well (of course, would you expect anything less?)-- the rest looked like they've spent the last 20 years eating nothing but Doritos and Crisco while lying on a couch somewhere in a dark room. And it's really unnerving when people's kids start to resemble what they looked like in college. I might have welcomed a nice little bong hit or two for old times' sake, but god forbid I should end up hitting on someone's eighteen year old son.

My parents graduated college in 1961 -- I wonder if they thought the world had gone to hell in a handbasket 20 years later? If it weren't for the fact that if I think too long about what may transpire in 2009 I feel the need to drink heavily, I would welcome the end of 2008. I just hope we all make it through next year with a roof over our heads.

Boy, I'm a cheery little Pollyanna today, aren't I?

All I Want for Christmas...

I don't want a lot for Christmas - there's just one thing I need
I don't care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree...
I don't need to hang my stocking out upon the fireplace
Santa Claus will make me happy, without snow on Christmas Eve...

Ah, Christmas Eve.

Even though we know the economy is going to hell in a handbasket, even as we sit stranded in airports all across the country, even as we wait in fear for those bills to come in January and our children finally crack under the pressure of waiting for Santa -- there's still something magical about the night before Christmas.

I don't typically make New Year's resolutions, but I do try every year to make a Christmas wish. People seem to be a little warmer, try a little harder during the holidays, and so I figure God and the universe may be feeling reciprocally generous.

This year I spent a good part of the holiday season thinking about everything that transpired in 2008, and what I'd like 2009 to bring (and what I'd like to bring to 2009). There are so many things to be anxious about at the moment -- finances, job security, family, time, relationships, life -- but I realize that somehow I don't see any of it as insurmountable. Must be the optimist taking over.

So my Christmas wish for the people I love in 2009 is that we find wisdom, and success, and most of all happiness in our endeavors, wherever they lead us. And the companionship of like minds to make the journey that much more enjoyable.

I must confess that I do indulge in Christmas movies. However, can I possibly be the only human on the face of the planet who hates It's a Wonderful Life? Say it isn't so! I cannot stand this movie, I think it is horrible, I refuse to watch it. There, I've admitted it in public.

Instead, I watch another Capra movie - Pocket Full of Miracles, with Bette Davis as an alcoholic panhandler, and Ann-Margret in what has to be her first movie ever, since she looks like she's about 15. Every year I watch this movie, and every year I wonder WHY they don't make clothes like that anymore? Sigh. Grace Kelly, where are you when we need you?

Anyway.

The other untraditional Christmas movie I watch every year is Love Actually. Vignettes about romance in London during the holidays, with an amazing cast -- funny, poignant, clever -- what's not to love? Wait until the kids go to bed to watch, however -- one of the vignettes is about a couple who meet as stand-ins for porn actors, and they spend almost the entire time onscreen totally naked in x-rated positions. NOT for the easily offended; and yet, their story is one of the sweetest in the movie.

But my favorite is the 12-year-0ld who becomes a drummer to impress the love of his life. When Olivia Olsen sings at the end, and you see the astonishment on the faces of the adults in the audience, I get goosebumps every time. If I had another Christmas wish, it would be the ability to sing like that. And then I walk around with the song in my head for at least a month afterward...usually humming it under my breath, which I'm sure just confirms my nutcase status in everyone's mind. And now it's in my blog...not sure the words are entirely accurate, but hey, it's my head...


I just want you for my own, more than you will ever know
Make my wish come true..

All I want for Christmas, is you

Merry Christmas!

Passion Play

So, what does a bored housewife...no, wait...professional woman do when her husband has apparently lost interest (I mean besides talk ad nauseum about said fact in her blog)? That's right, children - she goes to a Passion Party with two completely insane enabling friends to pick up some tips, tricks, and toys, of course.

I'm sorry, it took me quite a while to get back on track after teasing about my fuckerware party experience. Apparently it took a while to recover. Or something.

So, Miss C and Miss H and Miss T all arrived at the random F-Party, to find an assortment of women between the ages of 27 and roughly 50. Along with a lovely sales representative who was busy setting out her wares (bottles, jars, implements, and some very interesting battery operated items) on a table in the tasteful living room. Tupperware, begone!

I'm sure you'll be shocked to learn there was alcohol on the premises. We had some. Several glasses, a bottle, does it really matter how much? It made it easier to relax and take it all in. (That's what she said...)

The first thing we were invited to do was to take a little quiz. Our sales rep, Miss Thai (or Ty, or Tai, I'm not sure) asked a series of questions, and we gave ourselves points based on our answers. Basic little questions about what we'd done, with whom, and of course where, in the last decade. (i.e., Have you done it in an elevator? Have you done it at the neighbor's house? With the neighbor? Add 10 points! With more than one neighbor? Add 20 points! On film? Add 50 points!)

Being one of the more mature women attending (emotionally, that is), I thought I was probably doing pretty well in the experience department. Until we started adding up our scores, that is.
Apparently, not nearly enough of what I had done over the last decade had been captured on film or distributed in a foreign country. I was, in fact, the virgin of the group. I had the lowest score -- which in turn scored me a lipstick in the shape of a penis. It's in my purse now, in fact. I live in fear of taking it out accidentally after a business lunch to touch up my lips.

We moved on to try some of the lotions, gels, and other special lubricants. My favorite was a pheromone stick -- kind of like a perfume roll-on. We all tried it, and then smelled each other (sounds a lot kinkier than it actually was, but feel free to go with your fantasy). We all smelled different - I smelled a lot like my favorite perfume, which explains a lot. I bought one.

I was truly amazed at the number of guests who leaped up to introduce a more...stimulating...gel to Vageena Davis. What was highly amusing to me was how many of them were currently single. Not that it's any of my business...but, this stuff being for immediate stimulation and excitement and all...exactly how much delayed gratification are you into? Let's just say that in my world, if I'm trying it out, I'll be trying it OUT. Not sitting for the next two hours in a room full of women trying to keep from squirming on the couch...just sayin!

As an added bonus to the evening, we also got little tiny penis erasers to go on the end of our pens. We were supposed to use these to "dip and lick" -- anything that required tasting. I have to admit the sight of 10-12 grown women licking tiny little penises throughout the evening made me decide I had to host a party myself for sheer entertainment value.

I wonder if anyone ever hosts co-ed parties? What do the men get to use to "dip and lick"? The speculation alone is worth the trip.

The other reason I must host a party is that I had to leave before we got to the battery operated toys. I assume that maybe the delayed gratification of the prior lubricants may have been addressed here -- perhaps the women concerned were motivated to do some product demonstrations? I can't answer -- but I do know my relatively conservative though insane friends were motivated to make some extremely interesting purchases. I've even heard some product endorsements since...

I'm waiting to hear from Thai -- my calendar is out!

How To Give Good...

Oh please. Where is YOUR mind? (Well, if you read my last post, I guess I can't blame you.)

I have to apologize. I was all set to write the follow up post to my fuckerware party...

BUT, then I had a conversation with a friend about our relative stress levels and the desperate need for a really good massage, which got me thinking...always dangerous...and so I'm going to take the equivalent of a commercial break to write this instead (disclaimer: I am NOT a professional masseuse, so follow at your own risk):

How To Relax Your Man

For maximum results, dim the lighting and make your background music relaxing - instrumental is good, speed metal not so good. Lightly scented oil or lotion is perfect - if it heats up when you rub or blow on it, all the better. Let your partner choose a scent for best effect (and since this is MY instruction, I get to assume from here on out that my partner is a man. Any hetero men reading this feel free to substitute gender as necessary).

A warm bath or hot shower ahead of time can help loosen tight muscles and put him in the right mood. To begin, have him lie face down (fully clothed, partially clothed, or nude is up to them and you -- I generally prefer the latter, but hey, it takes all kinds). And since I'm running this fantasy massage, I also get to assume that most of you will be doing this at home without the benefit of a professional massage table. With that in mind, straddle your man with one knee on either side of his hips. Put some oil or lotion in the palm of your hands and make sure they are warm and well lubricated.

I like to start at the base of the spine, one thumb on either side of the spinal cord, and run both hands up the back, with medium pressure on the thumbs and heels of each hand, to the base of the neck. Some men like a lot of pressure, some don't - ask if you're not sure. Return to the base of the spine and repeat, but this time using a wide circular motion with the thumbs, seeking out and working any pressure points or tight muscles. At the top, trail your fingers/fingernails lightly down the back; repeat as desired. At the top, work the shoulders next, and down each arm with long strokes. Lace the fingers of both of your hands through one of his, stretching the hand apart gently, and knead the heel and finger pads with both of your thumbs. Repeat, other arm.

Return to the base of the neck. Massage the neck with your thumbs, again using a circular stroke, and use your fingers to massage up from the neck onto the scalp and crown of the head. Make your index and middle fingers into a "v" and run them up around each ear, and then onto the earlobes.

If your goal is to get your man into bed, you may find you don't need to continue the massage at this point (well...except maybe for some more intimate areas that I'm not going to address). If, however, the relaxation must continue...you will need to change position.

Kneel or stand in front of your partner's head. Replenish the oil or lotion on your hands, and stroke down his spine to the lower back. Massage out from the spine in circular motions. If more pressure is needed/desired, ball your hands and use your knuckles to knead.

Move all the way down your partner's body to stand or kneel at his feet. Picking up each foot separately, massage the heels, up the fleshy middle with your thumbs to the balls of his feet, and finally, with additonal oil/lotion, in between and up each toe. I can't tell you if it's true, but I have been TOLD that when done right this can be the pedicular equivalent of oral sex. I know it feels pretty damn good when someone does it to me...

Separate the legs slightly and continue the massage up the calves -- which can be particularly tight and painful, so be careful of too much pressure here -- to the thighs and buttocks, using long, medium pressure strokes.

I like to end a massage (if it hasn't ended from say, natural causes, by now) where I started -- straddling his hips, using long and/or feather-light strokes.

There now -- everyone feeling better?

Holiday Magic

What is it about lights on a Christmas tree that can make you forget that your entire world is upside down, sideways and entirely effed up?

I had fun this weekend. On Saturday, while my husband was hibernating in a friend's man-cave (converted garage with bar & big-screen TV), I put up the tree, turned on some carols, and decorated the house with the munchkins. There's just something about watching a two-year-old laugh at her reflection in shiny red ornaments that takes my mind off the Recession-Watch 2008/stock-market-housing-prices-job-loss seesaw. Forget the shopping list -- if you need some Christmas spirit, avoid the malls and the newspapers and hang out with the pre-schoolers.

Ah, but sooner or later all things good and innocent must come to an end. The babysitter arrived and it was time for me to get dressed and meet two of my attractive and completely insane friends, who insisted I accompany them to a lovely fuckerware party hosted by a work colleague. (And not just any colleague, mind you - a co-worker at a retirement home. Go figure.).

What's that you say, eyes widening with horror? Pardon? You've never attended such a party? Oh, let Miss Tuesday enlighten you, by all means. Tomorrow, though, darling...for the moment, I'm completely tuckered.

To be continued...(hate me now, don't you?)