feminist anecdotes

I always hated feminism. Actually, I posted about it before. In the sense that I don’t want to be treated like a buddy, I want to be treated like a lady. I usually have it my way.

However, this post is about women who got smart and women who didn’t. It goes like this.

 First scenario: three years ago, a woman in her late 40s came to a fitness guru begging for help to save her marriage.

She claimed her husband was calling her fat and he wasn’t attracted to her anymore. So she started to work out and diet. She didn’t give up, she persevered, fighting to keep her husband. Now she is Jennifer Anniston fit.

Also she divorced the idiot who was offending her, she has a young lover and she is blissfully serene and head over heels in love.

You go, girl!

Second scenario: a woman abandoned by her husband 10 years ago. Divorced, confused, she reached out for help. She started therapy. Ten years went flying by. TEN. She’s single. She didn’t have at least one flirt or one date. She couldn’t jump back in the pool. Her therapist, may her license be removed, is preaching her the following imbecile line: “God left man and woman like two halves. We are not supposed to live alone, but to find our halves to be complete.”

Also, she says that “the children need a male figure in their lives.”

So the poor woman, who seems perfectly balanced, feels an absolute wreck and a failure for being single.

So, dear imbecile therapist, NO. People should feel comfortable by themselves to be comfortable enough to look for a partner. If God intended us to be mere halves, we wouldn’t be able to function independently. Also, I believe your fucking halves might be two men or two women, not a man and a woman, you fuckin’ cave… person!

And the male figure for the children… I assume their natural father is alive and well, why the fuck should she point to the plumber and explain to her kids: “look, this is a male. Repeat after me: M-A-L-E. Get it?”

Conclusions:

Look good for yourselves, not for a partner.

Stay single if you’re comfortable with your choice.

still

just keeping in touch

Should I brag about my progresses in Pilates classes and weight loss? Sounds boring. Just one line maybe. I love my trainer, she’s beautiful, smart, with a sense of humor, four stray dogs and two cats. You know how people develop emotional transfer for their therapist? Same here. I am so grateful for what she achieved… well, actually I achieved in such a brief time, that I truly love her. I can actually see in the mirror from one week to the next how my body morphs back into a human one, instead of the blob I became.

 

Wait, just another story, not exactly workout related, so not so boring. After one session, I was in the locker room with a lady. Just the two of us undressing back to back rather prude, when I noticed her dress, and I screamed like a hysterical groupie. It was a Moschino piece from a few collections back, that I loved. The lady froze, with her back against the wall, probably praying that I’m not some serial killer of a sort. I started explaining my sound until she was breathing regularly again.

MoschinoKittenDress

But moving on… During summer we had a free lance designer helping us. We were warned not to try bonding, talking or even staying too close to her. She was supposed to be Satan in a tiny frame with a doll face. Long story short, she made an exception, she likes me. She likes my writing too. And she comes to me with this promising speech that started with: “OMG, your writing is sooo good, you HAVE TO WRITE A BOOK.”

I answered rather flustered: “I don’t think I have anything interesting to say… anyway, not for an entire book.”

“Oh but your writing is so amazing, yet you’re an online copywriter. I mean… all you do all day is write ‘click here’. How can this fulfill you?!”

I tried to object feebly that this is NOT the only thing I do, but I caved.

 

In other news, I’m not getting out of character with a Joop story. I was away on a teambuilding for the weekend. Joop was so happy to see me on Sunday afternoon that she behaved like a loyal dog, licking my face and jumping around. Well, she’s the feline version of a Saint Bernard, so no surprise here.

 

The surprise was yesterday, when I started to climb up the stairs coming back from work. From the first floor, I could hear her voice yodeling. At first, I couldn’t believe my ears. She can actually identify my steps on the stairs. Only ALF was able to do that. So, overwhelmed with emotion, I started screaming in the building, to be heard through the door on the 3rd floor: “YESSS, MY LOVE, MOMMY’S COMING, BE PATIENT!!!”

Enough said.

cat

doing well, thank you very much

So I started regular massages and my feet are back together with my shoes.

I try to be more careful with what I eat. I had more salad last week than I had for the last two years. And I HATE salads. 

salad

Wearing high heels, especially my Casadeis makes me so happy already, but there’s still a lot of steep long way to go, as in losing a lot of weight and fitting in my wardrobe. No, not in the actual wardrobe as in furniture, but my wide range of clothing. 

From Monday I am starting my Pilates classes. I begged for a very tolerant instructor. I had my eye on a blonde, graceful smiling sunny lady, but she’s free next week. 

So they put me in someone else’s class instead. She seems a cross between a drill sergeant and an keen bulldog. We shall see whether she is as scary as she looks. I don’t want to burst in tears from my first session.

On the other hand I have experience with tough instructors. A few years ago, I subscribed to an Aqua gym class. For Christ sake, that woman was a Nazi. Shouting and scaring the shit out of me, I was panting desperately and swallowing gallons of water. 

i

By the end of the training, I was her favorite student, best buddies and an example for the others. Let’s see if I can pull that again!

time to rise and shine… again

 

A few months ago, while I was with my best friend on Easter holiday, she told me in a worried voice: “I don’t know why you gave up on yourself”. 

I pondered for a long time on that phrase. I realised that I became a mixture of self-loathing, narcissism, procrastination, over all exhaustion… 

Wonder_Woman_Ross_h1

And I hit rock bottom. I was feeling physically ill, my feet and legs were swollen like balloons, my precious shoes didn’t fit anymore. 

Surprisingly, this was the tipping point. Breaking off with my shoes was unacceptable. 

So it stops here. I started swimming and having regular massages. I already feel better and willing to fight my demons. 

I need to like myself again. The battle began.

 

the brave parents

This is a truly bitchy post. So stop reading right now and move on to another blog. 

I have very strong opinions about people who reproduce only because “it’s time”, peer pressure, archaic family model, to strengthen the bond with their partner (newsflash: studies show that a new born is the most common reason couples grow apart or break), to pass the financial crisis by being in maternity leave so they have a safe income and cannot be fired etc.

Unfortunately, most people reproduce for these reasons and we are way too many on this planet already.

dog1 DOG3 dog2

In the meantime, I have the highest respect for the people that decide to adopt an animal and treat HIM or HER like a member of the family, an offspring.

Because they understand from the beginning they are in for grief.

First, they are babies. They ruin things, they pee and poop everywhere, they chew shoes, they cry when left alone, they cry when they are hungry or just demanding for attention.

Fast, too fast, they become adults. They understand wrong for right, they become the loyal companion, the best friend, support in time of sorrow, partner in time of joy. They comfort you, the cuddle next to you, they lick you, love you with their huge hearts and generally offer you more than you can ever offer them. 

And they grow old. They become grumpy, sick, they need help, assistance, treatment, time. Suddenly, they are your dear grandparents. 

And way too soon you have to let go. You’re helpless, no matter what. So helpless that you’re angry. No matter how much you prepare for this moment, it hurts excruciatingly. It’s your baby. If you’re lucky, you spent a decade or two with this loving angel. Sometimes unfairly less. 

Now this is what I call brave. To see your children die and your heart ripped out of your chest.  

ALF2 ALF3

decline of femininity

BB

Screen Shot 2014-07-31 at 11.49.30 AM Screen Shot 2014-07-31 at 11.50.05 AM Screen Shot 2014-07-31 at 11.50.15 AM

 

When the fuck did we lose our femininity?

When the fuck did women become men with more or less boobs, marching like soldiers, with fit, toned, non-sexual bodies?

I see girls on the street. They look good, beautiful features, long silky hair, great bods. Yet… no appeal, no sensuality. 

I blame it on the Americans and the WWII, when women started building weapons and when their husbands returned from war, they refused to quit jobs and return to the kitchen. 

I don’t blame the suffragettes, they were a joke. 

I also blame men for becoming weak and helpless, basically because their mothers raised them poorly. They grew up believing they deserve everything. They keep looking for overprotective mothers in their lives, so they stay helpless babies. 

So women grew balls. Their wasp waists thickened, their shoulders broadened to carry feeble men and spoiled children. 

Oh, I don’t encourage vulgarity, but femininity. That fragile creature, with a kitten purring voice that swings her hips, plays with a lock of her hair, smiles sweetly, rocks an evening gown and walks gracefully in high heels. 

Please, women, reclaim your right to be sex kittens!

 

BB SJ

it’s been one year

… since I lost the love of my life, my partner, my soul mate, my baby. I couldn’t write about him, I wasn’t able to compose a eulogy, because I was out of words.

He was perfect and he granted me 18 years of reasons to come home. Home was where ALF was. Few months earlier I lost Blondie, my lovely girl.

I am still at loss for words, when thinking of them. I just miss them like crazy and they are irreplaceable in my life.

I don’t want to start listing their immeasurable qualities, because this post might never end.

Also, unless you had a close relation with an animal, you can’t understand how hurtful the loss is.

I was left with my “little one”, the black Tom that was never able to mature, to grow old, he stayed a baby, cared and pampered by Blondie and ALF.

In days after ALF was gone, I noticed he was flickering like a candle, unable to go on by himself. He wasn’t alone for a day in his life and he couldn’t understand where did his “parents” go.

As a perpetual child, he couldn’t grasp the concept of loss and death. He was just immensely sad and alone.

So an angel (I supposed it was ALF) sent us the huge, gorgeous German Queen to ease the pain.

She didn’t replace ALF or Blondie, but she has traces that keep both of them as alive and present as ever.

Her beauty replicates Blondie’s, and her nature reminds me of my Love.

To all of them, my love, my heart, my forever.

baby blondie tJ

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