Showing posts with label women. Show all posts
Showing posts with label women. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 05, 2015

CYBERNATION: SEDUCTION & FLIRTATION

 
Technology and flirtation have been in the news over the past several years. A congressman's career crashed because of sexts in 2011, but his weinerisms remain ensconced on a Wikipedia page. 2015 brought a noted 60 Minutes journalist's sexts out in the open, but it appears he was more embarrassed over the messages where he bragged that he was Obama's "go to" interviewer. Humiliation seems to be oh-so-over as popular culture celebrates the "accidentally" released nude photos of various actors. The Washington Post published an article last year on how to sext safely. Adolescents are not exempt from the sexting phenomenon. They think it's just flirting.

The first text was sent in December 1992. By 2010, various sites were alive with cybering (cybersex). Sexting is short form. Cybering is long form. More emphasis on body parts and visuals for the former; context, and even scene, is significant in the latter, although erogenous zones are not ignored.

In one of my first writing groups, 4 out of 5 of us had never cybered or sexted. That 5th person was a woman in her 30s. She gave us a play-by-play that sounded crude in a hastily made porn way, all slavish adoration of male and female body parts. Not a whole lot of creativity. We laughed and squirmed and made disgusted faces during her unblushing recitation. I left the meeting knowing that I had to try it, even though my marriage was twenty-five years deep.

The question: is cybering and sexting about sex or is it the new flirtation? People used to flirt in bars, or at parties. I know this not so much because I did it, but because I watched my parents do it in bars and at parties. Usually one or the other would get jealous, and a fight would ensue. The key in this scenario is knowing when to stop, not crossing over that invisible line to adultery. Neither of my parents seemed aware of any lines anywhere. As a result, I grew into a straightforward non-flirter; if I wanted to have sex with you, you'd know it. That was in college and grad school. In the business world, sexual harassment was the byword and flirting was discouraged. Fine with me; I needed to focus. When my writing career began, an experimental and adventuresome side to me reawakened.

Usually Eros as Cupid is represented flying around or sneaking up on two human lovers with his quiver of arrows. Below is a rare print (in my experience) of Cupid kissing. Perhaps he has already shot himself in the foot and she is Psyche.



Is the shot in the foot the essence of Seduction? There are risks, to be sure, especially for married people.

I'm nothing if not goal oriented. In a chat room, a few men and one woman appeared to flirt with me. Presumably they were the gender claimed, but it didn't matter much to me: I wanted to play with words in a sexually explicit and creative manner.

Was this flirtation or seduction? During these provocative flare-ups, I liked myself very much. It was fun. The conversation nourished me in ways I hadn't acknowledged were important in my life. Reciprocity was key. So was good spelling.

But if one flirts, does that mean they are open to seduction, and more importantly, can we want what we already have? Which brings me to the subject of my husband, who sat across from me in the den with his own laptop, listening to me laugh and type. Did he wonder what the hell I was doing? I figured there was no wondering or even thinking about me. Except for sex, he'd long ago dropped any pretense of trying to please me. That narrow focus was enough for a very long time.

I didn't stop to consider what effect cybering might have on my marriage, but it certainly was an aid in writing the erotic passages in The Sandoval Sisters' Secret of Old Blood. Writing is all imagination and so is cybering. This is not a recommendation for writers or anyone to immediately start sexting. It's my experience. More on this after Mother's Day.


Also at Huffington Post.



Saturday, March 02, 2013

Yael's Hamentaschen Bake

I rarely do recipes, but I like a daytime party.  I love women and to occasionally break out of my writerly isolation with them is a joy.  

My friend Yael hosts a Hamentaschen Bake in her home during Purim, and never forgets to invite me, for which I am extremely grateful.  Not only do I get some group girl fun, in the time-honored baking tradition, but I get to eat all these delicious cookies which are not that fattening (unless you eat 20 all at once. Which I've never done. Really.) They're three-cornered cookies with a fruit filling. Purim ended on the 20th.

Since I'm a history and mythology nerd, the background for these delicious cookies needs to be noted.  Hamen, for whom the cookies are named, was the villain of Purim which is a Jewish holiday that commemorates the deliverance of the Jewish people in the ancient Persian Empire from destruction in the wake of a plot by the aforementioned bad guy.  So when you eat the cookies, you're also getting sweet revenge.  


That's Yael in apricot putting egg on the folded cookies before popping them into the oven. Rose is listening and watching, while Rochelle, in foreground, is mastering the art of Hamentaschen shape.





 2 1/2 cups flour
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup oil
2 eggs
1 teaspoon baking powder
water or orange juice
poppy seed or other fruit filling.  I like apricot and strawberry.
Directions:
1
Mix everything together until you have a nice dough.
2
Take piece by piece from the dough and roll it out with a rolling pin on a floured surface until you get a nice disk.
3
Taking a drinking glass, use it to make a nice circle.
4
Fill it up with fruit filling and close it in the shape of a triangle.
5
Schmeer some egg on uncooked dough.
6
Bake it in a preheated 350 F degree oven for about 30 minutes. Makes 50 to 60 cookies.


 By the expression on Helene's face, I don't think the commentary is regarding the recipe.   Rochelle looks  amused, so we may have started our Shades of Grey discussion.  







More women arrive.  Eris, on the end facing camera, flew in from Pittsburgh especially for this event.




Yael's grandson being tended by Jaime.

           



 
   Yay, the last batch, and now time to sing and dance.




Men are there to eat and listen to gossip. Don't let them fool you, they love it.

      Yael, and the best toddler ever.  He didn't fuss or cry once.


On a non-dietary note, Rudy Ch. Garcia, whom I introduced in last week's Next Big Thing blog, has posted more on his new book Here.


Wednesday, May 25, 2011

A Woman Should . . .

Maya Angelou wrote this and each one is worth a blog post:

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...enough money within her control to move out and rent a place of her own, even if she never wants to or needs to.

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...something perfect to wear if the employer, or date of her dreams wants to see her in an hour.



A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ..a youth she's content to leave behind.

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...a past juicy enough that she's looking forward to retelling it in her old age.

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE .....a set of screwdrivers, a cordless drill, and a black lace bra.

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ..one friend who always makes her laugh... and one who lets her cry.

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ....a good piece of furniture not previously owned by anyone else in her family.

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...eight matching plates, wine glasses with stems, and a recipe for a meal, that will make her guests feel honored.

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...a feeling of control over her destiny.

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...how to fall in love without losing herself.

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...how to quit a job, break up with a lover, and confront a friend without ruining the friendship.

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...when to try harder... and when to walk away.

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...that she can't change the length of her calves, the width of her hips, or the nature of her parents..

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...that her childhood may not have been perfect...but its over.

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW..what she would and wouldn't do for love or more.

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...how to live alone... even if she doesn't like it...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW.. whom she can trust,whom she can't, and why she shouldn't take it personally.

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...where to go...be it to her best friend's kitchen table...or a charming inn in the woods...when her soul needs soothing.

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...what she can and can't accomplish in a day...a month...and a year...

Sunday, September 14, 2008

Flashback to the Start of a Vacuous Future: Vicki Cristina Barcelona.


Saw "Vicki Cristina Barcelona" last week. It was exactly what I expected, no more no less. What did I expect? Lot's of talking (Woody Allen wrote and directed); good camera work, tight shots of beautiful young people; plenty of exits for Scarlett Johansson (Allen likes Johansson's ass, and so do I. We can’t be alone in this.)

The movie is a character study of moneyed, educated, not so tortured, artistic wannabe people, making choices during one period of their lives. Many people will hate this movie for that reason alone. There’s also an effete narrator throughout pivotal parts of the story, most notably at the beginning and the end.

As the movie closes and Vicki and Cristina leave Barcelona, he sums up their choices, heralding their not-so-rosy future. The movie works as a flashback for me. It’s also a statement on where the director/writer is in his life, and where he has been. Who is better able to describe a certain class of women in their 40’s, 50’s, 60’s and 70’s, and examine the choices they made in their 20’s and write a story about it, much less get Scarlett Johansson to play one of the leads? Not every story has to have miserable, struggling people with a huge point to make about LIFE.

Javier Bardem, with very much the same equanimity as he displayed playing the serial killer in "No Country for Old Men,"(but with a better haircut) plays a sexy artist with Whoa! Money. Be still my heart. But although he seems to be the focal point (read: phallus) around which Vicki and Cristina spin (along with Penelope Cruz, the only semi-tortured soul in the movie, who unfortunately comes off as a hot-blooded stereotype who takes herself too seriously; maybe all stereotypes do that), the central characters in this movie are the ones in the title: Vicki, Cristina and Barcelona.

Like the 1994 movie “Barcelona” and 2001’s “Gaudi Afternoon,” the title of Allen’s movie reserves the best for last. It was a return to my dream city for me. I went to Spain with a girlfriend in 2004. My Barcelona was filled with art, but no phalluses, I mean artists. We spent a lot of time trying not to eat dried tuna tapas. The city did seem devoid of serious thought. In Madrid and Seville and Granada there were banners hung from apartment balconies saying, No a la Guerra (no on the war; Iraq). In Barcelona, there’s probably an ordinance preventing such a display. Or maybe people are too busy having a good time.