Lowiza by The Lovely Feathers

7-year-bitch

Aiight, so I'm 37 years old nowadays. Ain't that a kick in the head?
That means I've been writing in this blog for 7 years! Crazypants.
I suppose I should reflect for a moment. Not much has changed in 7 years other than...
I've been hired, fired, hired, fired, hired, fired, hired, fired and hired again by the CBC,
I left a marriage, played the field for 2 seconds and settled into an unsettling relationship
Moved out on my own and in and out of several apartments, got knocked up and unknocked up (sadness) and have successfully and unsuccessfully parented a now 11-year-old.
I've made and lost dear friends whom I sometimes miss.
I've said horrible things. Tasted delicious things.
Dressed poorly and dressed to the tits.
I've celebrated friends weddings and grieved untimely deaths.
I've had good, great and bad sex and I've fallen in and out and in and out and in love.
Jack Lemmon, Bettie Page, Cyd Charisse, Harvey Korman, Evel Knieval, Heath Ledger, Robert Goulet, Leona Helmsely, Ingmar Bergman, Boris Yeltsin, Kurt Vonnegut, Larry Bud Melman, Johnny Carson, Anna Nicole Smith, Saddam Hussein, Robert Altman, Steve Irwin, Michael Jackson, Farrah Fawcett and too many more famous people all died.
Nicole Ritchie went from skinny fat to scary skinny and Perez Hilton became a celebrity.
Oh, and I've managed to dodge Bird flu, Swine Flu and tainted meat. *touch wood*
So, in retrospect, I guess it has been a busy few years. Do I have the 7-year-itch?
Surely I do. I guess I'll probably spend the next 7 years trying to scratch it.

Ding dong, my brownies are done.
Tomorrow I'm going to the gym. No, serious this time.
I'm joining the YWCA and hitting a yoga class tomorrow afternoon.
7 years from now I'll be so fit you won't even recognize me.

Equality

It doesn't take much to make me wince and feel sick with grief.
On the other hand, it doesn't take much more to make me happy.
I'm easy that way. I just wish someone knew how to manage me.
I can't offer any pointers. I'm really quite useless at it myself.

I ate too much poppy seed square tonight. Melancholy me.

Camp Elaho

I spent this long weekend camping in the Elaho Valley and it was so lovely. Waterfalls, swimming holes and mildly terrifying nights in a tent all contributed to an excellent mini-vacation. This is saying something, considering I forgot the bug spray and the skies were filled with blood-thirsty flies. Seriously, black/deer/horse flies are the assholes of nature. At certain hours of the day I was literally punching flies in their evil little fly faces. But no matter, I survived. A bear was spotted 100 feet from our campsite, but he didn't give two shakes about us. All in all, my first camping trip in nearly a decade was a grand success.

You know what? I think Facebook has really dulled my blogging skills. No matter how I try, I can't make this post unboring. You see, I already discussed my camping trip in a concise & clever Facebook status update. I feel like I've blown my load with Facebook and while I can still get it up for Blogger, I'm kind of going through the motions. Not good. I will have to try to post here a little more before I become a hopeless vicitim of social networking.

One last thing, did you know that people actually pack up gigantic bbqs into their pick-up trucks to set up on pristine nature sites? Really. It was the weirdest thing I'd ever seen and it doesn't strike me as very bear aware.

Anyway, apologies if you've actually read this far. I'll try harder next time.

Kisses on your lipses.

Night

Discretion.

It sucks when a guy (whilst driving) ducks and looks past me (sitting in the passenger seat) to get a look at another woman on the street. Believe me, I know women are beautiful and I know it's hard NOT to look sometimes... but, come on. At least invest in a pair of mirrored sunglasses.

Ew.

HOT SUMMER SEX [-- a truly terrible bit of writing full of very bad ideas and descriptions of lady bits that will make your skin crawl, highlighted and bolded. My gift to you.--slush]

by Pala Copeland & Al Link
Urban Male Magazine, Summer 1999

[REPUBLISHED WITHOUT PERMISSION, OBVIOUSLY]

It's summer, glorious summer and the heat in the air cranks up the heat in your groin. It seems that everywhere you look there's bared flesh - luscious flesh, firm flesh, tanned flesh. Flesh peeks out tantalizingly from the bottoms of buttock hugging short-shorts and spills provocatively over the top of breast caressing halter dresses. It calls to you from between tiny scraps of bikini "Touch me, kiss me, lick me, squeeze me."

Don't berate yourself as a lust-filled sex addict for continually wanting to "reach out and touch someone". You can blame part of that desire on your hormones, particularly oxytocin, a peptide that causes you to want touching and makes you feel really good when you get it so that you keep wanting more. Women, because of their high estrogen levels, are especially affected by oxytocin. That's one of the reasons they like to cuddle a lot. And generally the more a woman is stroked and cuddled the more easily she'll make the shift from sensual to sexual. If you want her to happily open her legs for you, be certain to give them some tender caresses first.

Satisfy your lady love's skin hunger by taking every opportunity you can to apply sunscreen, tanning lotion, after tan lotion and moisturizing cream to her sweet body. When you do, pay very close attention to the feel of her skin beneath your hands. Stroke with long, gentle movements letting her know with your touch that you adore her. Her skin will become satin smooth with all that creamy attention and you'll both reap the intimate benefits oxytocin brings. She can of course give your body the same loving care, whether you're aware of it or not you've got skin hunger too!

On those steamy sultry days when you only have to open your eyes to begin sweating take the sticky heat one step further with a truly erotic massage. Liberally oil both your bodies. Lie down - you may want to use a large plastic sheet, a tarp, or an old shower curtain for this - and slip slide all over each other using your entire bodies to massage and stimulate every succulent spot.

Or, for a sexy cool down nothing beats a masterfully wielded ice cube. With your darling's eyes closed, or better yet blindfolded, you can tease and please her through shivery strokes to her neck, nipples, and belly. Move at random over her body, or follow a slow set trail down to her honey pot. Keep her guessing by varying the time between those glacial touches and mix in kisses and sucks from your hot lips. Let icy drops fall haphazardly on different parts of her body. If you're not sure how to proceed rent 9 1/2 Weeks and watch Mickey Rourke drive Kim Basinger wild. Their ice cube scene will give you both plenty of inspiration.