I know I mention Klimt a lot on here, but I just wanted to say,
I can look at your thigh and see a beautiful, force of nature.
And this artist could look at a woman and see the surface of a distant shimmering planet.
Women in repose.
I think it reminds me that the artist found this sight beautiful enough to paint. And generations of people found it captivating.
And not only did the artist find her beautiful, but the artist found her as beautiful as the blue that is the shadow of her knee.
It’s a lovely blue that was chosen to express the loveliness of that knee. And an equally lovely pink to express the loveliness of her calf.
How lovely to remember that I can look at women every day and remember that they’re as lovely as my favorite shade of purple.
Maybe that’s the artist’s gift to society. To remind us that the things we don’t always look at are still beautiful.
Let’s talk about my mustache.
Or, Jesus Christ let’s not. I’m mortified already. Generally the exact same mortification I have when acknowledging any body hair I have (and, if we hadn’t covered this already, I’m a Jew, I have all of it).
Today I saw this article:
(Editor note: Yes, I know that a labiaplasty is permanent and surgical and a lip wax is something thousands of women do twice a month but we’re talking about mortifying embarrassment here, not comparing hospital bills).
My sophomore year of high school I went to prom. Most of my friends were seniors that year so I went with a friend. I looked like Cleopatra in my dress and curling my hair took an eternity.
The morning of the dance my best friend and I went to get manicures at her local place, our manicurist was a very talkative Russian lady in her late 30s. We told her all about our dresses and who we were going with, everything fit to print.
When my nails were half dried she said “follow me” and walked me to the back of the salon and into a small room. I thought I was in trouble. I hate being in trouble.
“I’m not going to charge you for this but I’m going to wax your lip. I just don’t want you to look back at these pictures and have regrets.”
It was the first time that I realized that people could be distracted by things about me that I had decided weren’t worth caring about.
I didn’t know what to do, I was horribly embarrassed and let her do it. The pain sucked of course but what I’ve always hated about wax is that overly sensitive feeling afterwards, like a patch of my body is pure nerve ending, lacking that protective covering known as skin. I know some people love that feeling but I’ve always hated it. Like everyone knows what I’ve just done.
She promised the redness would go down by the evening and it probably did. It turned out she was wrong. I rarely ever look at pictures of that day and when I do there are other things to regret. I regret who I went with and what I cared about. I regret wearing shoes that hurt like hell and that I didn’t even like. I regret not getting the dress shortened. I regret not taking a picture with my mom.
I would not have regretted having the little NORMAL JEW LADY amount of hair on my lip that continues to NOT bother me in every picture I have taken since.
I love this question. There’s a picture of me from when I was about 11 where I’m just looking at the camera and thinking nothing. It’s a picture of just my face and its hanging in my mothers hallway.
My hair isn’t that long anymore, nor my eyebrows that unkempt but when I am standing in line at CVS and a stranger looks at me, that picture is what I look like. Even if it was taken 15 years ago. I’m sure that in reality I don’t look like that anymore but in my head that’s just my face.
Except now the rest of me looks like this.
The other night I was in bed with a lovely fellow and I asked him to tell me what he liked about sleeping with women. I had been hanging out with a bi friend earlier in the day and it was on the brain.
He used some really unhelpful words to describe parts of my body like cute, pretty, hot and perfect.
I like specificity. I was unsatisfied.
So I demonstrated. I told him very specifically what I like about male bodies. Including descriptions about tastes, textures and smells. I used metaphors about fruits, topography, weather. I spoke an essay on male beauty. I wish I’d taped it.
And inspired by my stunning display of verbal gymnastics he improved the quality of his responses.
His answer was yet another example of a man in real life being very attracted to things which the media has been telling me men don’t like. If I had a nickel for every man who told me he liked thick thighs and hairy armpits. It makes me want to call Gilette and Jenny Craig like they’re old friends “Guy’s we’ve had it wrong this whole time! What kind of freaks were in your study group anyway?”
His words made me feel like art.
Rosy cheeked, lumpy thighed, bony fingered, hair askew, eyes sleepy.
Completely undeniably beautiful.
And if you’re getting a lot of her hair in your mouth then you’re doing it wrong anyway.
Also, you might find that you like it. It would seem that 62 percent of men with female partners prefer it.
A quick favorite anecdote: A friend of mine just started working at a salon doing waxes and started waxing more of her body than usual because its free. She started doing her eyebrows and underarms, she tried waxing her butt too.
And her boyfriend asked her not to do it anymore. The ladies at the salon make fun of her for it but his opinion matters more than her coworkers and she doesn’t care one way or another. She gets more out of him being happy in fact.
Your body is pretty great the way it is, stop working so hard at it. And especially stop worrying about it so much.
I’ve been so exhausted this week; it’s been really rough. It’s been hard to stay awake, but worse it’s been really hard to keep a positive disposition. I’ve felt myself sliding into negativity and I don’t like it.
So here are a few things that have been helping this week.
I guess “Hot Toddy” is a generous term for what I’ve been making. Tea + The Whiskey I Found In The Cupboard is a more title accurate.
For some reason I’m incapable of being sad while listening to this song. It is just the answer to everything.
Showering the day off is always the way to go. Don’t forget to treat yourself to a nice massage afterwards, gotta get that lotion all over.
I have Acid Reflux and it can get pretty bad if I’m not careful. I can’t recommend probiotics enough. If you are prone to stomach issues you should be taking a daily probiotic. If you’re taking antibiotics you should be taking probiotics. If you’re me you should be taking probiotics.
Also, even though I take it every morning, I take my pill when I do my makeup which helps me feel like it’s a treat for myself instead of a medication. Every morning I treat myself to the chance to eat pain free! Thanks, self!