5 Words.

Interesting exercise via Joanna Goddard via Nora Ephron.

Five words I'd use to describe myself right now - that is, today, September 2, 2014, age 44

Smart. Funny. Mom. Searching. Homey.

Struggled with # 5 - Professional...Successful...Content...Homebody....Present...Here...all came to mind.

Perfect

I've made such progress...but oh, can I relate!  Thank you, Nick Galifianakis (my total crush).

The Poor Philanthropist

Today'sWaPo had a good Fact Checker blog post about Obama's charitable giving.  Apparently, at the recent Conservative PAC conference (excuse me...hairball), one pol full of hot air chastised Obama for giving less than 1% of his income to charity.  Fact Checker noted that Obama's giving was indeed rather low as a proportion of his income in 2002 through 2004 before he became a Senator, and took on running for President.  Back then, when his income hovered around mid-200K, he was giving 0.5% to 2% of income to charity.  In more recent years, with income over the $1m mark, his total giving and giving as a proportion of income increased dramatically - well above 9%. Factchecker takeaway: conservative pol mischaracterized Obama's giving, and was not accurate to date

My takeaway: At any wealth point, we must all be philanthropists. And by the way, isn't the idea of being a philanthropist so much more appealing and empowering than charitable giving?  Perhaps it's because I work in a non-profit that I see how much those donations matter.  However, more importantly,  I am a philanthropist because I place great value on many things that don't create a profit margin  - art, my reproductive freedom, high-quality news reporting, my kid's school experience, my spiritual home.  While these things cost money to create, protect, and provide, they don't readily lend themselves to free market pricing.  So I make it a point to not take any of them for granted, place some monetary value on these priceless things, and then give generously to them.

In my annual personal financial audit for 2011, I made good financial progress.  Last year's goal was stability, and I am more or less there.   Last year, that meant my financial housekeeping included virtually eliminating all debt; establishing legal and financial safeguards for Dear Daughter; and creating and enacting some spending controls.  This year's goal is maintaining that stability, and achieving better financial security. That will mean more of the same (I haven't mastered it all), plus socking more money away to create greater margin for error (well, life's financial vicissitudes).

All the while, I'm far from frugal, and sometimes I'm downright lavish even when my money house isn't fully in order.  I like nice clothes, pedicures, a good haircut, a regular vacation, and going out for a good time.  Sometimes I like all this when I should really be liking a college savings account, a brown bag lunch or a practical pair of snow boots.  (Boring.)

But I digress.  Even amidst managing my personal spending and my personal financial goals, I make sure to exercise my personal philanthropy.  Last year, I gave 2.5% of my income to charity (the average American gives 1.4%, making me above average, of course :-).  In my audit, I calculated that about half went to Dear Daughter's school and All Souls Church.  I gave another 30% to causes near and dear to my heart - reproductive rights and health services (NARAL and Planned Parenthood of Metropolitan Washington), and donating to my line of work in global health and development.  The final 20% went to other organizations of personal importance or connection - like the finding a cure and remembering my late niece with the Brain Tumor Society; my morning listening pleasure with NPR; and supporting my younger cousin traveling to the national finals with the West Forsyth High School Equestrian Team.

In 2012, I hope to give just a little bit more.  My goal is 3% of income going to my philanthropy goals.  It will be a stretch; I believe it should be.  I could just as well spend this significant sum money on a nice vacation.  But then I wouldn't be putting my money behind all that matters to me.  Besides it would be horrible if we lost access to high-quality, comprehensive, women's healthcare or the community arts workshop closed its doors while I was sitting on the beach in Jamaica.

Occupy DC

I am an avowed sympathizer of the Occupy movement.  Some people question it's coherence and challenge its lack of clear objectives.  Fair enough criticism, but I'm quite clear about it.  The income gap between  rich and poor is widening, and the super rich are becoming richer by orders of magnitude, while the middle class stagnate and fall behind  Foreclosures, upside-down mortgages, and student debt prohibit decent hard-working people from getting ahead, but these ills were in many ways created by the large financial institutions that are reaping record profit, with the managers of said institutions rewarded with massive bonuses.  And all the while, fiscal policy is structured to save, if not reward, these structures.  That is the 1%, and the rest is the 99%.  The tail is wagging the dog.

The Occupy DC site is in McPherson Square in view of the White House, and about 3 blocks from my office.  Over the last month, I've made it a point to use the Metro exit that allows me to walk past and through the tent city.  I've enjoyed watching it grow and take shape.  It now consists of about one hundred tents - residential sites - pretty much right next to each other in the center and southwest of the square.  The northwest section has grown to become a community hub, complete with medical tent, kitchen, community library, media tent (with solar panels and generator) and message boards.  The south end of the square seems to be loosely organized around social and community affairs - frisbee playing, spontaneous (or not) musical performances, and a meeting area.  Urban planners could not have done better - and this Washington Post article makes some interesting organizing and planning observations around that.

Who says they're not organized?  Check this out!

DAILY SCHEDULE
11:00 [Scribble unclear] Outreach 102
12:00 pm Political education discussion
12:30 p.m Announcements
2pm De-escalation training
5:00pm Newcomer orientation
5pm Roots of the Crisis Workshop
6:00pm General Assembly
8:00pm Committee Meetings

NEEDS
juice
cooking oil
PLATES
Water
Round table for library
Sleeping bags
Tents
Giant coffeepot

This photo shows the library about 2 weeks ago, back when the request was out for a round table.  I passed by again today, and I wish I got a picture.  The library tent is gorgeous, complete with a round table, about four to six chairs, and at least four bookshelves brimming with over 800 books.

Other organic and spontaneous community innovations have taken root.  There is  a "Human Mic," where when announcements are made.  A person says "Mic," and three to six people around him (or her) echo "Mic" and the announcements proceed from there - a natural human amplification of sound.

And while I haven't fully figured out the kitchen, here's a WaPo article about cooking 3 meals a day every day for 100 to 200 protesters with volunteer labor, and donated foodstuffs.  There's also a steady supply of donated prepared foods - burgers from Five Guys (it's not clear whether the store donated or a citizen sympathizer bought and donated), day-old pastries from the Starbucks across the street, and Cherry Garcia ice cream served by Ben and Jerry themselves earlier this week.

This year, we witnessed an Arab Spring, in which long-standing, firmly entrenched and protected government structures were toppled from a more or less spontaneous uprising of civil society.  No one would have bet on it a month earlier.

I have no idea was the Occupy movement will bring.  I am disheartened, disappointed, and disillusioned by heavy-handed confrontations by police on Occupy protests in Oakland and Atlanta.  The Occupy message and the objectives are not concise; and discredited because those messages are expressed by a relatively disparate group of fringe progressives.  Winter is coming.  Attention wanes or gets diverted by Michael Jackson, Justin Bieber,  and Joe Paterno.  Yet still I remain impressed with Occupy DC's stamina, growth, and organic organization.  Thus far, there has been minimal police intervention and confrontation in DC.  I'm pleased for both the protesters and the police.  Occupy movements in other cities continue to form and grow.  They just may be another American Revolution ahead of us.

FY12 Workplanning

The struggle

I'm struggling these days, weeks, months to keep my perspective.  For whatever reasons, it feels like the wind in my sails has died, and I am dealing with all sorts of self-doubt, second guessing, and a massive crisis of confidence.  I'm not sure exactly where I left my mojo, or who took it from me.  But I do know that I was in a much better place 6 months ago.  I know I am the same person, living the same beautiful life, in the same enviable circumstance.  I'm not ungrateful, far from it, in fact.  And yet, I can't seem to shake the feeling that I am less.  Sometimes it feels like loss.  Sometimes it feels like disappointment.  Sometimes it's a feeling of being overwhelmed by my current circumstances, while underwhelmed by the alternative.   My inner peace suffers discontent.  My creative spark is gone; and my energy is zapped; my optimism is crowded out by resignation; my passion, by apathy.

There are many things that lead me to believe that this is a temporary condition.  I have my faith that this, too, shall pass.  I'm aware that in some ways my time feels so dreadfully slow and stagnant, but so much happens over the course of a day, a week, a month, a year that I both don't see the progress, or recognize the inflection points until they become retrospective.  I know that a good swim can clear my head in 20 minutes (though these 20 minutes are few and farther between these days.  I know that my church can fill my soul with exuberant  joy, profound peace, and deep aches simultaneously in the best of all possible ways.  I know the best thing for me would be to let go, and let it be.  That my self-loving voice will serve me better than my self-critical one, but that ironically, that self-love must includes self-acceptance that embraces that inner critic.  I know that happiness is a practice.

But for now, all that shit is not kicking in and here I am...struggling...  

Old Boyfriend Tour

Yesterday morning, I had to drive from someplace to somewhere on I-495 - the 10-lane ring road that surrounds Washington, DC and connects its first-tier suburbs. As I whizzed passed the exits - Takoma Park...Silver Spring...Kensington...Bethesda - at nearly 80 mph, I thought of the once-boyfriend who lived there.  Our good times and our endings flashed through my mind; some sour feelings, but mostly warm ones washed over me.

And then a nerdy, bad pun entered my head, and the Old Boyfriend Tour screeched to a halt with a groan..."Notches in my Beltway"

You know it's a bad date when...

...when he keeps twisting your words to prove his belief that women are bitches
...when you begin to wish you followed him to the bar to order the drinks, in case he slipped in a "roofie"
...when you realize that it is time to clearly, definitively, and immediately extract yourself, and are scheming how to do so without pissing him off
...when you begin to go over the information you shared to figure out if it is enough for him to find you at work or home
...when you look over your shoulder constantly all the way to the metro to make sure he's not following you
...when you leave a voicemail and email yourself with the details of what you know about him, where you met, and what you experienced to help out the investigation just in case you end up dead somewhere
...when you get home you double lock the door, and set the alarm

Yikes, that was freaky!

That's NOT what I asked for....

I'm in a particularly irritable mood.  Today when paying for my lunch, I asked the cashier to add a Diet Coke to my order, and pointed to the fridge stocked with soda cans.  On my way out, I went to grab my soda.

But there was only caffiene-free Diet Coke.  When I asked about it, I was told they were out of Diet Coke.  I looked at the options - Coca-Cola and Sprite Zero.  Neither would do.  I want the caffeine of the Coca-Cola and the sugar-free, no calories of the Sprite Zero in my cold, lunchtime fizzy drink.

I left quite grouchy with a Sprite Zero.  I really shouldn't be this annoyed.

I [HEART] Nick Galifianakis

Nick Galifianakis is the marvelous, wry illustrator whose work accompanies Carolyn Hax's sage, sound advice everyday in the Washington Post.  He has just published a new book of cartoons, If You Loved Me You'd Think This Was Cute: Uncomfortably True Cartoons About You.

I'm not laughing at me, I'm laughing with me.... 

2010: Year in Review, Part 3 Dear Daughter and other Loved Ones

Dear Daughter Seriously, I sometimes think I think my wonderful, thoughtful, giving, deeply insightful, kind, innocent six year-old daughter doesn't deserves a mother as flawed as I am.  I am in awe of her miraculousness.  I'm not the most maternal of women.  I would not be mistaken for a martyr.  I do not have infinite patience, endless capacity (or even desire), to nurture, boundless energy, and constant cheer.  I savor and pursue my adult life, sometimes at her expense.  I'm far from a helicopter mom or even a doting one.  My fuse can be short; my attention divided.  I sometimes half-jokingly refer to my mothering as "benevolent neglect" - that I hope will foster independence, scrappiness, and a provide a good adult women role model.  Despite my "bad mom" persona, I do make sure she always knows she is loved, safe, and secure. So far, so good...knock wood.

Quite honestly - between you and me -

2010: Year in Review, Part 2 - Men, Love , Sex and Ex

Life's Big Buckets in 2010, part 2 of three - This part is a Biggie - bigger than it should be, I'd think.  But what is Life without  Love?

Men, Sex, and Love - Or some combination thereof...sometimes.  The biggest trial of all.  As usual.  My half-full glass and pragmatic romantic view prevails.  It was a good year.  There was progress, there were setbacks; but more progress than setbacks.

As we entered 2010, I was enjoying a romantic interlude with Hiking Viking.  We seemed to be navigating our complexities and individual needs, desires, and directions well.  We were even growing closer and more emotionally intimate with whispers of sweet nothings and love.  Perhaps this was the harbinger - we really didn't belong in that territory, as lovely as it was - because CRASH!- BANG! -BOOM! we had some deep uglies suddenly and immediately afterward.  Uglies that left me reeling and confused, though in hindsight, it was more likely a necessary course correction.  We managed a bit more in a gentle, kind, supportive friendship - two people who seemed to get each other...with benefits.  But nice, and even right, as this was, it was  not safe or comfortable territory for me.  I tried to feel my way around this zone...but CRASH! BANG!  BOOM! in one of these (perhaps misguided)  conversations, I encountered anger, blame, vitriol - hurling accusations and spewing resentment - and our friendship was mutually declared over.  I have never in my life declared a friendship over - I've grown apart (sometimes intentionally); I've created space;  I've lost time and priority in friendships that had mutually served its purpose.  But I have never actively severed a friendship.  It left me reeling and destabilized again.  Another area, as the year closes, where I have found myself destabilized and second-guessing myself, and my mojo shaken.  Enough bandwidth...onward and upward.

Vegitect is a big character in this year's screen play.  Springtime, and all is possible.  New, green design gigs and newfound legs underneath himself made him ripe for romance when we met.  Here is an awesome man....witty, sexy, creative, handsome, and international.  :-) We found ourselves and each other in shared a passion for creativity in its infinite forms, and in our individual resilience always manifesting from the core.  Our compatibility and chemistry was notable.  I sometimes long for the promise of April - venturing to Paris with friends, and getting sweet, funny international text messages on l'autobus and brilliant sketched postcards for my birthday. But I feared... no, I knew... that he was not ready for involvement, and I told him as much, while I carefully skirted emotional attachment. Hell, I was so fuckin' prescient, I even wrote into My Main Gal Hax about the issue on an online discussions in June, that was later published in the Washington Post in September.  And prescient indeed... timing and time is important.  And as time passed, the messiness and acrimony of his divorce became more apparent, and the reality of throwing his dreams, drive and financial stake into a start-up in a crap economy became all-consuming.  It was a shit-storm in which I could not get sucked into the vortex, nor toss the life ring from the edge.  I have had my own shit-storm, and as recently emergent, I can say that life's personal shit-storms are best weathered independently.  But here and now, Dear Vegitect, I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for your wit; your bizarre and endearing sense of irony; for sitting on my porch on early summer evenings talking with a bottle of chilled Spanish Cava or with sparklers in hand; for your photos, sketches, and sexy texts; for a well-planned mystery picnic; for teaching me the secrets of a perfectly fragrant and delicious daal; for the flowers; and for your continued friendship.  XO.

And while a few other minor characters made cameo appearances as love interests - one in particular that was not to be - it was a most of all a year of love and learning. And my learning has essentially led me to believe that it is timing that is mostly determinant, and that it takes time to see if love will stick among the competing vicissitudes.  And for the moment, I'm taking a chosen break, but surely not forever.

Irony  This was the year that I learned that Dear ex-Husband re-married.  I learned it on Facebook.  Two years after the fact.  This may well be my most mortifying and humbling moment.  I was enraged!  Anger and fury that I rarely feel, let alone express...but I did both to the fullest.  It felt amazing. But I know the source of my anger is also my disappointment, my sense of betrayal, and my sadness.  He and his wife are now expecting a baby any week now. And Dear Daughter suffers at the hands of an evil stepmother - it is not a cliche; she is a character study of immaturity, insecurity and passive-aggression. And Dear ex-Husband continues to make bad decisions that only spiral him downward, and his charm cannot save him anymore.  And the only good thing to come out of all his 2010 shenanigans is that I am freed of the horrible guilt and self-flaggelation for our failed marriage that I inflicted upon myself daily .    Did I make mistakes?  Yes.  Will I do things differently with my next partner/husband from the insight I have gained into (un)healthy, (dys)functional love and partnership?  Indeed, I fervently hope so.   Do I share the responsibility for our failure?  I do.  But I no longer blame myself.  There is nothing I could have done differently to save our marriage - as much as I tried and wished.  His latest antics are only proof that he could not and did not show up.  Not for me, and sadly, these days I worry, not even for himself.  And with all his hooey, I'm clearly, markedly, definitively better off without him.

2010: Year in Review, Part 1 - Work and Wealth

Overall, I'd declare this year Good overall, but most notably a year of Improvement and Progress.  :-)  For once, "most improved"doesn't feel like a consolation prize, but a hard-won, much-cherished feat.  The series of tragedies and bad news of years past have ebbed.  It was a welcome reprieve, and interestingly I noticed and appreciated the absence of constant losses and unheavals.  How often do we notice and appreciate that "nothing bad is happening" and therefore I am grateful?  Of course, I am grateful for the many good fortunes in my life this past year, and humbled by the setbacks.  Rather than a chronological review, this year I will examine Life's Big Buckets, and how each one fared.  This is a blog post in three parts (and some parts are a work in progress, as I continue to edit bit by bit).

Work - My job is demanding and stressful. At times, it can totally suck the life out of me.  For the better part of this year however, it sustained me and fulfilled me.  My boss, our CEO, announced her planned departure for early 2011, and this had some wonderful outcomes.  It was a great relief to know that a huge stressing, anxiety-producer will be releasing its grip.  Also, perhaps her own knowledge of her transition took some burden off her as well, because our relationship eased and became more trusting and respectful (for the most part).  Also, my ego was boosted, as both several members of our board and our funders saw me as a viable candidate to take on her role....but I am both smart and sane, and announced I would not be applying.  It was terrific to have the best of all worlds - good enough to do it, smart enough not to!

Freedom

Tonight, as I came in from fireside drinks with dear old friend, M, and I realized NO ONE was at home. NO ONE will be here for at least the next 24 hours.  Dear Daughter is with Dear ex-Husband, and au pair has flown off to Chicago for the holidays.  The house is empty, and ALL MINE.  I own this house - as much as anyone really can own their house in the United States of America - that is, the bank and I own this house, with lots of equity, and an affordable mortgage payment - which is good enough.  My obligations are all my own...I am only responsible for myself here and now.  I walked in the door, stripped off my clothes, and made lots of noise.  Tomorrow I will wake up, and make myself some good strong coffee, and take as long, as hot a shower as I please.  I will fart to my heart's content.  This is freedom for  this single working mom, folks.   Freedom plain and simple.

Mommy Dearest

I'm tired and grumpy today after a night of little sleep.  I tossed and turned, and worried about the CEO search at work and how it will all affect me; the state of merger negotiations and if there's still hope; the irksome ambiguities of my dating screen; vacillating on whether I'm bullish or bearish on my retirement fund; concerned about my body and health deteriorating -  my metabolism screeching to a halt and my reading eyes going blind starting the day I hit 40.  Oh me, oh my...to just have certainty about the future.  I know, I know....HA!  At most, I can have comfort that it will all be OK - which I generally do, but last night it decided to take the slippery slope downward.

So I took my exhaustion and uncertainty out on my daughter this morning.  As she readied for school, excited about her day, we just - as mother and daughters do - pushed each others' buttons.  It started with excess conditioner in her hair, discovered only after she was fully dressed, and me trying to rinse/comb it out without her getting back into the shower.  Which led to a wet dress, and a wet floor, and wet towels, and painfully combing through tangles.  Which led to tears (hers) and impatience (mine) and whines (hers) and yelling (mine).  And drama, that included stomping (hers) and slammed doors (hers) and cursing (mine - aloud, but to myself, if it makes a wee bit of difference in your opinion of me, dear reader).  And more crying and yelling (hers and mine respectively).

And her cries and whines were amplified in my tired and impatient brain, reverberating like a huge train barreling through my bedroom or an airplane taking off on my roof.  Just unbearable head noise that I just desperately wanted to end right at that very second.   I can handle a conversation, maybe even a negotiation - but not this screaming dear animal child!  And if it also makes a wee difference, dear reader, at one point she is sobbing and crying to me, but looking at her reflection in the mirror.  Which led to me getting even more exasperated, because I am watching my 6-year old Drama Queen audition for her Little Orphan Annie role.  Which led to realizing - thank god - that my patience had run its course, and my temper was taking over.  Which led to a time out (mine...yes, mine).  

And when it was all over, and we were sitting there amidst wet towels late for school and work, there were hugs and apologies (mine and hers, but mostly mine).  And I feel like a horrible ogre.  And I feel guilty.  And I feel like the Worst Mom Ever.  And I am embarrassed and ashamed that I do not have more patience and calm in me, especially with my dear child, who is wonderful and still innocent, and tremendously unblemished.  And I'm still sad and upset that I am not a better mom and a better person.

Smoking is absolutely filthy!

The U.S. Food and Drug Administration is proposing new large-print, highly graphic warnings on cigarette packs, such as the one to the left.  There are 36 more being proposed, and nine will be chosen.  These warning will comprise 50% of the front and rear panels of each cigarette packet, and 20% of any cigarette ad.  The images are appropriately disgusting  and jarring.

I think smoking is revolting.  It smells bad. It looks bad.  It makes people sick - fatally so.  It irritates non-smoking bystanders.  The foul smell sticks to clothes, hair, furniture, carpets, window shades, and tableware.  It turns teeth yellow and brown.  Kissing a smoker feels like kissing an ashtray. Sooner or later the young , hipster smoker turns into a hacking, addicted, aged-beyond-their-true-age, old, sick person smoking in the rainy, cold under an awning.

If my own personal horror does not make it clear enough, here are some hard facts from the NYTimes article on the new FDA warnings:

Public health officials are hoping that the new labels will re-energize the nation’s anti-smoking efforts, which have stalled in recent years. About 20.6 percent of the nation’s adults, or 46.6 million people, and about 19.5 percent of high school students, or 3.4 million teenagers, are smokers. Every day, roughly 1,000 teenagers and children become regular smokers, and 4,000 try smoking for the first time. About 400,000 people die every year from smoking-related health problems, and the cost to treat such problems exceeds $96 billion a year.

Smoking is increasingly stigmatized these days - if I have friends or colleagues that do smoke they would likely not be "out" in their habit.  In all honestly, I have less respect for smokers. I was devastated when I learned that Obama is a smoker, albeit a reticent and humbled addict. I'd even go as far to say that I find them disgusting themselves.  But I can't go that far because in all honesty, I feel sorry for them and their addiction and our shared human frailty.

I hope my daughter never starts.  Admittedly, I have smoked cigarettes at various times in my life.  I tried my first cigarette at about 12 years old...

Sometimes you have to kiss a few frogs...

I saw it coming.  As we walked and paused to admire some funky pumpkins, he leaned into me.  A few moments later, he touched my arm, and I (against my better judgment, but following the stage directions) let my fingers graze his elbow.   A pregnant pause.  "Here it comes," I thought.  His thin fish lips came toward me in a grotesque twisty pucker, and landed on my mouth which knew the drill and went into the pucker reflex.  It was short and tepid, kind of like kissing a frog.   I withdrew, smiled, and said, "Thank you for a lovely dinner.  I had a nice time."  "Hello, I must be going," my sub-conscious screamed with alarm.

A first (and last) kiss.  Sigh.  More adventures in dating...and yes, I did extract myself - as directly and kindly, as possible -  the following day.

Michelle Obama: Re-Fashionista

The last 24-hours have been nothing, if not intense.  You know - board meetings & merger deals, and trying not to look, care or get upset while watching my ex's life implode or freak out about how that might ultimately affect me and Dear Daughter.   Sigh. It all seems heavier now than it will with some perspective, some sleep, and a good swim....But in the meantime, I'll distract myself with some fluff and stuff.

Stuff like Michelle Obama's wardrobe - and some good re-use of basic pieces and accessories.  Black jacket, green pumps, wide black belt, yellow cardigan, white bow blouse provide great inspiration for her multi-purpose, but singular, style....check it out for yourself here at the Yahoo! slideshow.  It takes a time and some initial investment to build a stable of go-to wardrobe basics and stylish accents that can be cleverly and creatively re-purposed  to express one's personal style (particularly as a public figure with constant media documentation).  Michelle Obama has a great eye and fabulous fashion sense that will serve as some inspirational, diversionary tactic to me, far away from my other cares.

Sex Research

The results of a national sex research study were released today from Indiana University's Center for Sexual Health Promotion.  The findings are interesting, but not too shocking.  And phew! - it seems, I am, in fact, "normal."  The study was underwritten by Trojan, the condom company, and has the largest, most comprehensive sample size in almost 20 years, across a wide age range of 14 to 94 .  You can read it for yourself, but overall, it seems we're not doing so great on condom use (particularly among the 40+ age group), and we have a wide variety of sexual behaviors to keep ourselves and our partners happy.

I have always been interested in sex.  "Duh - who isn't?" you say.  But really, I am especially interested in sex - and not only from a personal pleasure point of view, but also from a sexual health perspective.  As a teenager, on Sunday nights, I'd listen to Dr Ruth (Westheimer) late into the night.  In high school, I bought the Shere Hite 500+ page report on female sexuality at a used bookstore.  In my early 20's, I was a Dr. Drew (Pinsky) fan on radio's Loveline, before he became famous on MTV.  And, as mentioned in a recent post, I am a savage fan of Savage Love by Dan Savage.  I stayed home one evening when I was 25, planning my night around a PBS documentary on Alfred Kinsey, underwritten by Hugh Hefner and the Ford Foundation :-).  The good people are My Heroes for being frank, direct role models and spokespeople for healthy, informed, consensual, positive, pleasurable, communicative sex.

I was a Planned Parenthood supporter, long before I had even been kissed.  In college, I was a family planning counselor.  In grad school, I studied public health, with a focus on Population and Family Health, now more commonly known and practiced as Reproductive and Sexual Health and Rights. In my career, I've worked on family planning and reproductive health programs.  And not so long ago, I even had to discuss anal sex in a job interview.

Top 10 Reasons I Haven't Blogged Lately...

1. I've been busy writing strategy memos for work - about 1-2 per week - and it's sucking up all my writing bandwidth.
2. I'm tired in the evening, making me incoherent and inarticulate.
3. I'm not particularly inspired these days.
4. When I am inspired, it's at the wrong time, and I lose the occasion to blog.
5. I'm confused - not all in a bad way - and so my thoughts are coming out all jumbled. 
6. My blog has lost some of its anonymity, so to protect the innocent....
7. My own version of ADD is acting up...I am easily distracted these days.
8. I'm busy -  booked with some obligation or other from 6:45 in the morning to 9:00 in the evening.
9. The few waking hours not booked, are reserved for chilling and doing nothing, so my poor brain can get a break.
10. I'm not really sure where this blog is going.

Sigh...oh well...in general, this is an immensely therapeutic and creative outlet for me, so hope to get back soon!