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    Showing posts with label women. Show all posts
    Showing posts with label women. Show all posts
  1. Do You Know Where Your Vagina Is?

    Tuesday, October 22, 2013



    Years ago I worked nights proofreading at a law firm where they sent a car service to pick me up.  The driver and I were talking a bit.  I learned his wife is very intelligent and has a masters degree in education.  He said she is qualified to teach teachers.  Then he proudly declared that she doesn't work, as though that made him look good -- like a provider who had it covered.  I said, "We all don't get to benefit from her gifts."  He looked shocked.  "Her gifts!?"  "Yes.  All that she could teach teachers.  Her gifts.  And we can't receive them."  I believe he thought her gifts were between her thighs but they are between her ears, and maybe he should think about that with what's between his ears. 
     
    For centuries, the human race in much of the world has deprived all of us of the gifts within the oppressed.  We will never know how many cures could have been found if more than half the human race weren't kept from participating.  Patriarchy kills all of us and fools many into believing it benefits them.  If the only way one can feel able to achieve is by holding down another, that person has a problem, and the problem is not the other rising.
     
    Patriarchy was carried out so thoroughly that just in case anyone made it through still thinking they have value and something to share with the world, we have women on the job crushing the dreams of other women. 
     

     

    Disney Letter
     
     
     
    That was 1938.  In case you don't think we have such problems anymore, when was the last time you saw a man needing a sign like this to hang on his own genitals?

    
     
    Photo: via I Acknowledge A War On Women Exists

     
     
    If we are going to continue to allow boys and females with brainwashed minds to be legislators, we must require a proper education for them.
     
    They can begin with some technical knowledge from Wikipedia:
     
    The vulva (from the Latin vulva, plural vulvae, see etymology) consists of the external genital organs of the female mammal.[1] This article deals with the vulva of the human being, although the structures are similar for other mammals.
    The vulva has many major and minor anatomical structures, including the labia majora, mons pubis, labia minora, clitoris, bulb of vestibule, vulval vestibule, greater and lesser vestibular glands, and the opening of the vagina. Its development occurs during several phases, chiefly during the fetal and pubertal periods of time. As the outer portal of the human uterus or womb, it protects its opening by a "double door": the labia majora (large lips) and the labia minora (small lips). The vagina is a self-cleaning organ, sustaining healthy microbial flora that flow from the inside out; the vulva needs only simple washing to assure good vulvovaginal health, without recourse to any internal cleansing.
    The vulva has a sexual function; these external organs are richly innervated and provide pleasure when properly stimulated. In various branches of art, the vulva has been depicted as the organ that has the power both to "give life" (often associated with the womb), and to give sexual pleasure to humankind.[2]
    The vulva also contains the opening of the female urethra, but apart from this has little relevance to the function of urination.
     
     
    I know a woman, Alexandra Jacoby, who believes if we see the vagina as an ordinary body part, women can be approached as people.  She says about herself:  Alexandra Jacoby is not a vagina expert. She just thinks that women’s bodies are fine the way they are, and is tired of being told differently. 
     
    Alexandra is a photographer among other things.  She gathered many vagina portraits that she photographed, and, combined with some stories, created a beautiful book which can be ordered on line.*  (My vagina portrait is included in the book.) 
     
     
     
     
    *I highly recommend it as a holiday gift to a young woman/older teenager.  This is not a sex book at all.  It is the kind of gift that says you are just perfect as you are.

  2. Penis-Free Era Continues

    Tuesday, April 2, 2013


     
    My penis-free era is going strong.  My buddy advised me to find someone good enough and not to talk with them too much because there’d be a good chance the guy will be an asshole, I’ll get turned off, and that will end that.  He always makes me laugh.

    I am admired by those already spoken for.  I wonder if I give off a mistress vibe.  Some of these men had a chance with me when they were free.  But now is when their interest peaks.  Don’t worry, wives.  I didn’t want my husband, and I don’t want yours.  If they were single, a couple may be up for consideration.  But they aren’t.  Then there are some single ones who are just not a good fit though they have some appeal.  On one hand, if they only have some appeal, there’s little danger of getting all involved more than I care to be right now.  On the other hand, I didn’t go all this time penis-free to be with someone who is only somewhat appealing.  Hence, the penis-free era continues.
    Men and women often don’t even speak the same language.


    Our self-images are often distorted.  We aren’t even starting out on equal footing.

        
                                         
    There is a married man I’d like to date IF he were single.  He’s passionate, unafraid, smart, not threatened by intelligent and willful women, and has a wonderful sense of humor.  That would be my man Joe.


    I saw my ex recently as he and our son took the dog out for an afternoon.  I try to do my very best to keep things civil for our son’s sake.


    I find that for some straight men, they are totally defined by not being a woman and not being gay.  It’s ironic because ‘woman’ means ‘not a man,’ yet we don’t spend all day grabbing our tits or checking our ovaries to make sure we didn’t suddenly lose them and become a man while we were distracted.  Maybe it’s the ones I meet, maybe they see me and get overly testosteroney, I don’t know.  In all fairness, I had a woman once falling in love with me and she was like that too.  I must draw them out.  I still have learning and growing to do.  I do know this.


    There was a man who I had some fire with, it seemed, but something was awfully lacking.  He’s a smart person and passionate, yet he seemed to have a gap in his growth regarding the opposite sex.  (I know, I know, some of you are thinking yeah, yeah, what’s the point, they all have that gap.)  This gap was bigger than what I am/was accustomed to.  My ex-husband was sexually compatible with me.  Not humanly compatible, so sex ended, but for the years we had it, it was typically very good for both of us.  (If he ever reads my blogs, no matter how much else I might say, he’d feel very proud that I give him and his dick some credit for their performance.)  Anyway, this guy with the serious gap was only an on-line acquaintance.  So anything sexual was via the written word.  I don’t use a webcam or Skype.  I still like not having to look good to be in my living room.  
    There are some things that were good the way they were.  The first time we spoke on the subject, I was quite displeased.  As time went on and after voicing what I found so distasteful, I thought maybe it was like a bad first time.  Like someone having a premature ejaculation or something.  His mind jumped too fast.  I let a second chance happen.  He began too far down the road.  I asked him to start earlier in the story.  He got defensive, we argued, that ended that.  I thought there was hope for the third and final time.  He knew I had wine and he told me to pour a glass.  I did and let my guard down to some degree, getting all cozy for what I expected to be a good time.  He spent too much time on what I consider silly and it felt uncomfortable and not sexy – names and checking with me if he may call me this and that, names I don’t find fitting or natural.  It felt like he was uncomfortable and worried about offending me.  But he worried about the wrong things.  He went from pet names to insertion.  Whoa.  I said, “You are skipping over everything I might like.”  He told me to pour more wine.  Wine is good, but it isn’t lubrication.  You’d think he’d have read some articles or a book or something, but it felt like he learned from male-made porn films.  In those, we are not real humans.  The first time I watched male-designed porn, I really gagged and I cried.  The second time, I just sat puzzled at how this could turn anyone on.  Basically a woman drives into a gas station, and then she’s having sexual intercourse with the worker or rather he's just doing it to her.  No anything.  Just gets out of the car and his dick is in her.  It was the only sense I could make of his gap.  I tried to work with the guy.  I said cock was not yet welcome.  Many would have picked up on the 'yet.'  It just wasn't going to work.  He’s talking wine, and I’m thinking, “Wine?! I fuckin’ need chloroform!”

  3. Under That Pink Skirt

    Tuesday, November 27, 2012


    Most of us are multi-taskers out of necessity, so I’m really glad there are many things that happen automatically that I don’t have to think about, like breathing and my heart beating, blinking and swallowing, digesting food and being a female.  It would be so exhausting and consuming to have to be constantly establishing how not a man I am.  Imagine …
    “That’s right I’m a woman; I’m menstruatin’ right now!  Yo, can you spare a pad?  Oh thanks.  You’re a doll.  No lesbo or anything.  Just thanks for the pad, girl.  ‘Cuz I’m a woman and I don’t go that way.   I’m a woman; these are real (points to breasts and then adjusts them exaggeratedly).  That’s right.  I ain’t no dude.  I’m menstruatin’ big time.  So don’t get any ideas. Why ya gotta stand so close to me?  I can hear you from over there.  No lesbo.”
    There are so many times I want to tell a man to relax.  Nothing will fall off.  Some are really so driven by this need to remind themselves how they aren’t gay and they aren’t a “bitch.”  Besides their disclaimer “no homo,” my young adult student also told me about the disclaimer “pause.”  I asked, “So if you are kind to another male, you have to say ‘pause’?”  He nodded.  I told the class that if a man goes home with another man and has sex all night, I don’t think that pause button is going to work.  Everyone laughed but the one I meant it for. 
    I’ve been taken for the opposite gender several times in my life, and I found it amusing.  So why is it such a thing, I wondered.  Then it dawned on me.  It’s the same thing with blacks and whites, gays and straights, etc., etc.  They’d be afraid of being treated the way they treat us.  Being thought of as childlike and cute or ugly and worthless, a bitch or a slut, being harassed as we go about our daily business and endangered by those lacking self-control must not seem very appealing.  And so some scramble around, holding their package while baring their ass, calling us bitches and complaining about not getting pussy. 

    A man I know, who does not fit that description at all, doesn’t doubt his maleness all day either.  He has other insecurities as we all do, but he doesn’t obsess about not being gay or not being female.  It’s a given.  He assumes his dick is still attached and doesn’t use one hand to cup it all day.  And when a bunch of women he knows wanted to dress him up as a woman for some kind of costume party, he was fine with it.  He’s not very feminine looking; his features are manly, and he is quite hairy.  They had fun trying.  He looked funny and not at all like a woman, more like a man in kooky clothes.  They took photos which were amusing.  He said that now he won’t be able to run for president. 
    He told me, in a voice as sure as nipples harden in the cold, that he didn’t care if they put him in a pink skirt with fringes because he knows that under that pink skirt, he has a big dick. 

     

     

     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Mindy Matijasevic will be performing her stand-up on December 13, 2012, 8pm at the Grisly Pear, 107 MacDougal Street, Greenwich Village, NYC  (NO cover & NO drink minimum!)

  4. By Lisa Harmon

    My life is sweet.  I have spent my entire life doing pretty much whatever I feel like doing.  OK so I have to work, I’m not independently wealthy, but that’s it.  After work its all Lisa time!  For that I need to thank my mother, my grandmother, Laverne DiFazio, and of course, the most wonderful invention ever -  birth control.

    The sixties were a pivotal time for women.  Women’s roles were changing, and women were becoming independent. 

    As a girl growing up in the late sixties the old and the new were right in front of my face.  My grandmother was a married woman.  My grandfather was the boss, and my grandmother did most of the work.  I saw that with my own eyes.  They were the old generation.

    My Mother was the new generation.  Single, with a job and her own money.  She had it going on.  If it wasn’t for my brother and me, she could have had the life! 

    But who really had everything that I wanted, who really was living la vida loca, back then, well, it was Laverne DiFazio.  I loved her and I wanted to be her roommate.

    Laverne DiFazio – she had a job, an apartment and she was tough and funny.  She had no kids slowing her down.  Sure she had to work a shitty job, just like me, but she was free, free, FREE!  She was my idol.

    It was fantastic knowing that I didn’t have to get married, that I didn’t have to have kids.  I knew I could just get a job and an apartment and be happy!  And believe it or not, that was my plan, when I was twelve.  I was going to get my own job, my own apartment, and done.  That was it.  That was the plan.

    The plan came into effect at eighteen.  I left home, got my own place, and made my own rules.  I can listen to the stereo whenever I want!  I don’t have to make the bed!  I don’t have to do anything anyone tells me, because this is my place that I paid for with my money which I procured through my own hard work!  This is Lisa’s world.  Lisa’s apartment.  Lisa’s rules.  I was ecstatic.  I had my freedom.  In my entire life, that’s the only thing I ever gave a fuck about.  Being free.  And when work would get shitty and awful, I knew I was working for my freedom.  And I kept at it.  I loved being on my own, and I didn’t care how much I had to work for that little apartment.  I loved that place.  It was my little place to be me.  It was my tiny piece of this giant world. 

    And none of it would have been possible at all without Grandma, Mom, Laverne DiFazio and birth control.  Thank you!  I love you all.

    Laverne & Shirley Theme - Theme to my Life!