Fun Woman Sex Mother

An Attitude of Gratitude is essential for the Goddess Self Respect Project.


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Under Arm Hair: A time of growth

I’ve decided to re-grow out my armpit hair. That’s right. Grow it. Grow the full crop.

I mean it’s happening anyway. I neglected attending to attend to it for a few weeks recently and it got ‘outta hand’. So I thought I’d just wax it.  My waxing lady is hilarious. I can not fault her work.  She corrects me when I say ‘arm pits’. It is ‘Under Arm’. We don’t mention ‘pits’.  It’s inelegant.

Anyway, I usually have my body hair tamed but at the moment, I’m feeling like an uprising. I mean, ‘Tamed’. ‘TAMED!’  Argh! My inner 20 year old is pissed at this.

By the time I hit about 20 years old, I had looked with penetration at what makes a woman valuable in this world and had noticed that looks and youth have a great deal to do with it. And, although I fitted the value system, that made me mad.  

When I was 20 years old, studying at University, I found my preferred peers. They were a highly affectionate, funny, gentle, uplifting, intelligent and super fun gaggle of young lesbians (in the main). They had hairy armpits. It was a political statement.

When I think about it now, they would surely kick my ass for calling them a gaggle. I think they’d prefer a ‘murder’ or at least a swarm, troop, grist, rabble, pod or, something. No! I’ve got it! In honour of our ‘radical’ reclamation activities, honouring menstruation, we were a Rag of Lesbians! (And some men-fucking ‘Queers’ like me. Some energetic gay boys and awesome women-loving fellas.)

Oh university in the 90s. Le sigh…wow. It was great. I remember, at the ripe age of 18, I had been out of home for a year, was living in downtown Fitzroy, paying $52 a week rent, being shown into radical bookshops and poetry halls, and covert speakeasies where women, naked or otherwise spoke great inspiring words that rocketed my mind capsule out of the suburbs and transported me to realms of courage and juice that I had only dreamed the glimmers of at high school.

During this time I saw some deliciously subversive body hair creations. The girl on the tram at orientation, changed my life. She was hanging on to the rail: her full hairy copse, dyed as green as a spring meadow. Then there was the Girl who had shaved horizontal stripes down her lower legs: nice job! Strange effect, but you know, Respect!

48006-8832474-DSC_2524

It was liberating.

Thus, I have never since been interested in what uptight men and women have opined in vox pop street polls on under arm hair. I mean, who cares? Whatevs!

AND, OMG, There is currently an international action trying to get on it’s feet called Armpits4August! Oh, bless.

So, now, I’m 40 and I really do love the silky smooth (and social acceptable) bald-ass underarm but from time-to-time I mix it up. No one who loves me minds – although we’ll see.  Frankly I feel so tender about allowing the soft furry kitten of my pit-ling to visit again after all these years. A subtle sensuous act of reclamation.

I feel like this temporary change is like a little holiday. A ribald, wild, uncivilised, drunken, tit-flashing, karaoke-involved holiday. I think with lipstick, false eyelashes and heels I could confuse the fuck out of some people next cocktail party. … Ha. Awesome.


* Photo source: Julia Squire…respect.  For full shoot (with nudity) see: http://www.juliasquire.com/biophotology/saturated-blossoms

The Light of Self Acceptance

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Meme Self acceptance

…and the Irony is, those parts of ourselves that we least like must be embraced, not shunned if we are to be free of them.

They must be wooed back to us, held, loved better and given what they need – and that is to stand those parts in the Light of Self Acceptance until they are forgiven and have reintegrated into the whole self. This is Self Acceptance and this is Acceptance we crave.

We sometimes think it is Acceptance from others that we are yearning for – from people in particular or society in general. Yet we cannot even receive that acceptance from anyone unless we have first allowed ourselves to accept that fragment that has been out in the cold.

There is no running from those parts of the self we deem ‘ugly’ or ‘weak’. Shunning or denying what we don’t like about ourselves just keeps the behaviour, thoughts and judgements in a holding pattern.  When we do not take responsibility for our shortcomings, incidents borne from the fruit of these old redundant parts of the self and from the secret conflict we have inside because we don’t like this part of ourselves, keep recurring.

We all do this. And we all have denial about it …until we don’t. I always find when the denial lifts, this is when I feel the most pain because I feel bad that I have spent so long living in the dark (on a certain issue). That is when I feel a lack of self acceptance: that I should be more evolved than I am. How can I STILL be at ‘this stage’. That is when I take both the shortcoming that I have just become aware of and the self judgement of not being perfect and stand them in the light. Which is to say I practice a series of meditations on Self Acceptance.  And, of course, I reach out to wise friends who remind me: It’s about Progress not Perfection.

So, do we embrace that shitty, weak, desperate, pushy, mean, selfish, or feeble part of ourself? Or do do we try and shut her out; starve her and hope she will die quietly?  Pull those parts close, amors. They are your little children, learning through mistakes. They are not to be scolded for learning! But held until their lesson is learnt and their pain subsides.

It casts another Light to the saying:

“To err is human, to forgive is divine.” ~ Alexander Pope.

Love (all of) you,

FunWoman

xx

ps I am able to provide access to meditation material from my mentors upon request.


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Internet Dating: “This is red five. I’m going in.” Part 2

Luke: “What’s in there?”
Yoda: “Only what you take with you.”

yoda-luke

Now when Yoda was advising Luke in this way, I am sure he was not talking about Online dating. But still – it applies.

I write this on the cusp on my first online-induced date.  With Jack.  Real name:  Not telling.  

(See Part 1 of this series.)  We are being conservative. It’s just coffee.

My friend – who is like a professional consultant for such bold and often awkward endeavours has offered to call me 15 minutes into it to give me an excuse to go.

Another friend who works in IT for one of the big dating sites also gives me 15 minute advice. “Tell him you will meet him for 15 minutes. One drink and you can go from there. Then if you’re having a good time for can always keep it rolling.” Having a good time? I dare not hope!

Internet dating. I’ve heard the horror stories and I’ve heard the doe-eyed ‘how-we-met’ stories.

I will admit I find it a bit daunting. But I’m not sure about these contingencies, I think I’d rather go in being real, trusting my own boundaries, holding my own ground.  I am more than equipped for such a journey:

I could really over think this and go in with all sorts of anxieties but instead I reckon the worst thing that will happen is Jack will be really rude, belligerent, creepy, overly familiar in a creepy sort of way and mean. AND creepy. Did I say that already? Or he could be creepy in a vapid, inane, messed up kind of way.

The second worst thing could be that there will be nothing to talk about. The third thing – especially if paired with the second thing – is that there will be no attraction.  At all.  Flat linin’…________Beeeeep_________.

But I won’t know unless I go.

Jack is making it easy after all.  He’s like:  “Hey, we’ll probably not hook up, and maybe we’ll never see each other again but, it’s harmless and we’ll probably be better people for meeting each other.” Now I can’t argue with that.

If nothing comes of it, BOOM! on to the next adventure.  And finally, I can always rely on Yoda for realistic advice:

Obi-wan: “That boy is our last hope.”

Yoda:  “No, there is another.”


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From Bore-lesque to brilliance: a compendium of favoured subversive performers.

carnival of mysteriesRecently a friend asked me of performers I admire.

This was after I had ranted at her in a bar after another un-inspiring Bore-lesque show in Melbourne, Australia.

Oh how boring I find these little show ponies.  Not only are these shows based on gimmicks but mimicked gimmicks. Pure derivation. Oh, you are naked beneath your clothes? Who woulda known… :/

Now I could be considered an ex-carny (4 years in a circus, and a dozen more in theatre and other performance), so I may be a little over the tricks of the trade, but I do know when I see something that comes out of a person’s own genius. Even if it isn’t the most impressive accomplishment I have ever seen, it is always proferred with a dollop of soul, a twinkle of mischief and spiced with the piquant confidence of a performer who has dived for a pearl and managed to fetch one.

And I love it. I’m the one, at this point, hooting and yawping and waving madly in encouragement. How rare, how lovely, how vulnerable, how real.

As for burlesque, I know a few National champions of this art. Have worked with many others – in my job as stylist – and some of them are excellent at what they do. A few of them truly bring something new and delicious to the table. But I’d have to say that this is rare and these artists would be good artists in any dance/theatre / performance/ cabaret setting. ‘Burlesque’ just seems to be an umbrella term these days that includes copy-cat, look-at-me, cutesy stripping. Tre Boring!

Bring back the cabaret! Bring back the vaudeville! Yes! But may it straddle the divine and the ridiculous, may it make a mockery of mainstream homogenised representations of female sexuality. And for that matter, may it stop telling us what men (or women) desire! The mainstream can’t speak for men’s (or women’s) desire! Desire is vast and strange and wonderful and unique to the one who is having the desire. For that, queer cabaret is delectable.

Ah there are so many fantastic talented performers. I’m so excited to learn of so many more.

So in answer to your question Charlotte, here are just a wee few of my favorites.

The hilarious comic genius of Ursula Martinez:

The incredible Moira Finucane and her bevvy of compatriot performers including Maude Davey, who bring new meaning to the word Provocative:

Amanda Palmer is a good to explore – darling that she is. Not only is she helping to revolutionalise (is that a word?) the music industry (See Below) …

…but just days ago, in London,  Amanda also has a fabulous response for the Paparazzi’s (and the people’s) obsession with perpetuating the evaluation of women with youth, sex and beauty.

Oh there is the recent incident between Erykah Badu and Flaming Lips that you may know about, and why Amanda Palmer stepped in, I do not know. But it is all an interesting situation. What I find most interesting is that – via the internet- we can all be a part of, or privy to these important conversations and that voices can be heard that speak out of the bounds of the confines of the media. Really, they had the run of it for too too long!

Oh so many fabulous performers and thinkers and dreamers and geniuses… I leave my compendium there for now.
I hope this answers to your enquiry Charlotte, and you have a nice time trawling through these many links.

My love,

Fun Woman Sex Mother.

 


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Tangy Lemon Curd

Quick and Easy: Ready in 30

lemon curd fwsmI’m fond of Tarts. The more tart she is the better.

Make her tangy and sweet, but not too sweet, and lemon…make her Lemon. Mmmmmmm.

But , to my taste, the curd in many lemon tarts is too sweet and just not sour enough to tickle my Piquant Button.  Ooooo yeh. …I like it Zesty.

If anyone ever asked me, I would advise, that for almost any lemon curd recipe one may HALVE the sugar and perhaps up the zest.

In fact, this also applies to baked recipes that are more than a decade or so old.  For many many years, I have been reducing the sugar in cakes and biscuit recipes by a third to a half and I kid you not, there is often very little alchemic effect.*

220px-INF3-219_Salvage_Up_Housewives_and_at_em_-_put_out_your_paper,_metal,_bones_Artist_Yates-WilsonIn fact, once I heard a conspiracy about the amount of sugar in cake and biscuits. Something about Post Depression Era Australia and the Country Women’s Association.  My Conspirator said that the CWA was encouraged to help stimulate our primary industries such as sugar by upping and promoting the sugar content in all the recipes.  

But whether this is true or not, it is true in my experience that most dessert recipes do over-do the sweet thang.

So here is a tangy little recipe for Lemon Curd that’s prepped in 10 and set in 20.  And yes, it’s Zesty. Stick it in a pie base or serve in parfait glasses or ramekins and lick your spoon clean. 🙂

Lemon Curd

  • 3/4 cup lemon juice
  • Zest of 2 small lemons,
  • 1/2 cup caster sugar, or any finely ground sugar
  • 4 eggs
  • 80g butter, finely chopped
  • 1/2 tsp of both cinnamon and nutmeg

Mix zest, juice, sugar, spices and butter in a bowl**. Place the bowl of a Saucepan of gently simmering water ensuring the bowl does not touch the water. Stir until the butter has dissolved. Whisk the eggs in another bowl, and add to the Lemon/ butter mix.  Stir constantly over the heat with a wooden spoon until it thickens enough to coat the spoon. Remove from the heat. Cool slightly and spoon into parfait glasses (or pastry cases if you please). I served mine with berries and Raw Chocolate drizzled on top. 

Refridgerate. Devour. Enjoy.

Fun Woman

xx

*Sugar also contributes to a more moist texture in cakes. To cut a lot of sugar, one may omit an egg white – which dries the cake – or to add an egg yolk.

** I based my recipe on the curd in Kate McGhie’s  ‘Little Lemon Tarts’

Other articles on this topic: http://www.thekitchn.com/how-can-i-reduce-the-sugar-in-135433


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Online Flirting: A Day with a Disembodied Stranger.

Names have been changed to protect both the innocent AND the naive.

Some of my girlfriends have the most amazing date balls.89roNC1367846500

I’m not talking low fat, sugar-free orbs of dried fruit and nuts served at health retreats. I mean big-assed balls of courage when it comes to dating.  Internet Dating!  That stuff takes big cajones. Or does it?

Last week I had a try of a dating site. I posted a profile and then ‘attended to my Inbox’ – which is the point of the exercise no?  That’s a dirty joke…case you missed it.   😉

T’was early Saturday morning and I received a intriguing message from a strange and cunning linguist.  I checked his profile – no photo.  I know!  Why bother reading further but I did and it was FUNNY!  I love funny.

On this dating site, there is section where one may indicate what one is looking for:  long-term dating; short-term dating; friends; activity partners…etc.  My punter had written:  “The idea of an ‘Activity Partner’ fascinates me. I don’t know what that actually means but I want one!”    

An Activity Partner! I want one too! It sounds so quaint and old fashioned and yet it is totally a phenomenon of contemporary culture. We used to just call them ‘friends’ but that word has been shot to pieces by the facebook phenomenon. 

So, I messaged him back and he messaged back immediately, and so I did again and he did again and so forth for most of the next 30 hours.typing guy and dogAt first he was brash, then flirty and familiar in a somehow gentlemanly way.  He was confident to one hair short of arrogant, and then redeemed himself with a shot of humility.  But most of all he was quick-witted, bold and cheeky.  I was receptive, a squeeze of coy, and a little ‘Tigress’. 

56 messages and 24 hours later we had shared a day.Here, I will share our abridged volleys.  He is in Bold and I am in Italics. Enjoy!

(Names have been changed to protect both the innocent AND the naive).

First we have a little chat and I ask him to message me later. Oh it is easy to be cheeky when we are safe behind a screen! 

 

7:36am

  • Come again. I’m here all week… 😉 
  • Ok. I always do anyway!
  • It must be exhausting being you … But inspirational nonetheless!
  • Its invigorating actually.
    Although I am having trouble this morning finding a reason to get out of bed.
    Brrrrrrr chilly
  • Brrrrrrr? Sounds like u have had assistance!  😉  
  • Oh my!  Really! 
  • Stop blushing… If it feels good… Well you could just stay there all day, couldn’t you?

 

11:13am  

I throw in a spontaneous poem:

beetroot_valentine

My cheeks look sweet with a little blush. 

My chest feels nice with a flush

            Of heat.

                  And I’m not in bed,

                     I’m down the street.

                             At the market Buying beets

(I’m not just saying that for the loop.

I’m gonna make some beet root soup.)   

Ok look here! Always good to throw in a rhyme. Fast forward to 10:41pm and I am getting a little tipsy at a party. But my mind starts playing with this morning’s flirt.  

  • Soooo Mr. No Photo… You’re 16, have poofy hair and live with your parents, right? 
  • No miss. I’m 35 and live on the south side by myself.  Not up to much tonight…. U?

Ok look here! He has sent a photo. …Not bad!

  • At a 40th in Fitzroy it’s all very chic. The people are lovely. Everyone keeps big-upping my hair. Oh it’s the small things in life… Hehehe.   I think I may take up smoking.  Why are u in tonight? Is it just too chilly?
  • I often stay in on Saturday nights, it’s all a bit crazy.  
  • I think u would be good at smoking…4PdRzw1367845116
  • I just went to men’s bathroom with a group of friends. Now I’m a bit sozzed. I’m sure I’m about to get very chatty.  Oh dear.  Tell me something else about you.
  • Ask me anything! You are an Artistic / Musical / Writer – all three?
  • Designer / mother/ spiritual warrior. Now I’m at some other feeble club. Lucky my friends are spirited.
    What’s your name?
  • Jack.  What’s yours?
  • Fun Woman.
  • Thought so…
  • Haha. You did not.
  • I did not i was just trying to induce paranoia… ! Hahaha

12:58am

  • My hair still looks good. That’s good.  I think I better apply myself to this smoking thing though.
  •  I bet your hair looks good… Work it baby… I’m going to sleep now. Will be back when I can’t sleep.

Next day…

9:41am

  • Jail?
  • Holy crap. It Coulda gone there.  40ths are mad.
    I got a cab back with friends and crashed on the couch then the rest of the party came back and everyone got in the 20-person spa. Now with little pinpricks eyes and trembling on a cellular level I’m midway thru a day course in the city.
    Currently scoffing first food since 3pm yesterday. Egg Tortilla.
    Better than jail food.

              Lots of men giving me sultry looks today. Guys love trash bags don’t they?

  • Yes but not when they’re grinding their teeth.  😉
  • What are you doing?
  • I have to go to my Aunty’s birthday and mingle with lesbians. 
  • Oh lesbians.  Thought I may have joined the ranks last night.  I woke up with some serious stay-fast lipstick over my face.  
  • What’s this Sunday course nonsense?
  • Um, blog course.  Yep.  I’m doing it.  But my mind is fading.
  • U would make a fine bloggerist…

12:49

  • Thankyou Jack.  People say that.  Say ‘hi’ to your aunty.     ;D
  • Until soon Fun Woman.

So there you go. A day spent with a virtual literal stranger.  I’m starting to see the online flirting appeal. With a good rapport, a match of wits, and a wifi connection, one can feel an almost instant alliance with a complete stranger. Ordinary life becomes a a running in-joke between you and the funny, uninhibited little monkey on your shoulder/smart phone.  Of course, it can be somewhat satisfying for a single person, kind of like having a partner but more like having an invisible friend.  

Now, as many do, Jack and I could continue this friendship online. We could get past the witty reparte, build loyalty, trust, and share our hearts and pictures of ourselves naked.  It sounds less risky than meeting in person and less satisfying than an actual relationship but lends itself more to fantasy.

But I think I’d prefer an ‘Activity Partner’ to an invisible friend. 

Jack wants me to meet him. Shall I?

Hope you laughed. 

FWSM  xx


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Carrot cake, tea and salty tears.

carrot cake

Yesterday I had two lovely long-time friends over for afternoon tea. Two dads. Two sincere, interesting, lovely, sexy, hot, handsome, soulful, intelligent men. Both music producers and both having excellent success in their field. Both deeply in love with their partners and having major trouble in that arena. I’ve known these men since we were 20. It’s about 17 years later. We are living in different parts of the country. I still remember when the 3 of us met that night in that share house kitchen in Collingwood. We stayed up late laughing and playing like we’d just found our soul family. And we had.

So I provided what I’ve come to know as the magic of my kitchen table. Where extraordinary people come to talk and listen and laugh and heal. And a cake. I baked them a cake and we sat as witnesses and friends.

Now I’ve only ever baked one other carrot cake. I didn’t grow up relating carrots with cake. But I was moved. And it turns out both men LOVE carrot cake. So…win.

We sat, we talked, we drank tea. At different times, both men got teary and dropped little salty, soul-sharing tears into their tea. Salt is good for the heart – in this case.

carrot cake crying fwsm

So, here it is. I baked it with love. I ripped a recipe off the net to get the basic alchemy and then changed it to make it EXTRAordinary. Cos where I grew up – on a rice farm 15 kms from town – cakes were an ordinary daily occurrence (thanks Nan).

Ingredients:  Remember to use quality ingredients such as unbleached flour – preferably cake flour, organic butter, grind your own spices for that fragrant punch. CHOOSE ORGANIC where possible.

  • Butter or Oil to grease the cake tin. 
  • 2 (about 300g) carrots
  • 1 cup (150g) self-raising flour – or make your own by adding baking soda to plain flour. 2 tsp baking soda per cup of flour.
  • 1/2 cup (75g) plain flour
  • 1 tsp bicarbonate of soda
  • pinch of sea salt
  • 1&1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
  • 1 tsp ground ginger
  • 1 tsp ground nutmeg (freshly ground is great)
  • 1/3 cup brown or brown coconut sugar
  • 2/3 cup (185ml) virgin pressed olive oil or coconut oil – or gently melted butter
  • 1/3 cup honey or thick agave
  • 3 eggs
  • 1 tsp vanilla essence

Icing:

  • 250g spreadable cream cheese
  • 1/3 cup icing sugar  – Actually you can use a raw or coconut sugar or something similar if you grind it in a coffee grinder – the idea it has to be a powder so it dissolves.
  • 1/2 tsp vanilla essence

Method:

Preheat oven to 160°C. The pan: This cake needs a high Cake to icing ratio. Lots of icing, my son says… You can use a 20cm (base) round cake but having made it already, I would choose something a little bigger so the cake is flatter with more top surface area to slather on the icing.

Grease your choice of pan lightly with oil, and line with non-stick baking paper if you like but its not essential. Grate the carrots, and set aside. Sift the flours, bicarbonate of soda and cinnamon into a large bowl.

Put the brown sugar, oil, golden syrup, eggs and vanilla in a separate bowl. Whisk to mix until combined.

Pour the oil mixture into the dry ingredients. Stir gently until just combined. Stir in the grated carrot.

Pour the mixture into the pan and bake for 50-60 mins. NOTE: when I can smell the cake. I know its ready. So if you can smell it before times up, check it! Set aside for 5 minutes. Turn out onto a wire rack to cool completely.

Icing:  place the cream cheese, icing sugar and vanilla in a bowl. Mix until well combined. Once the cake is completely cooled. Ice Ice Baby.

Share with beloveds…

Injoy,

Fun Woman xx