A titillating quandary

This post brings up a discussion I've been pondering for many years, and have been a bit wary to address, mostly because even my own feelings about the topic are so incredibly mixed.  Bear (or bare, which might be more appropriate) with me, feminist friends, I think there are some interesting questions in here that as "liberated" women we're trained to ignore or dismiss.  Perhaps instead they're worth discussing.

So, a couple of days ago, I walked into the locker room at the gym and was greeted with, "Hey, are you a dancer here?" I looked over to see a slight, blonde girl, who was probably about my age, but who had pretty clearly lived a lot harder than I ever have.  She was maybe six inches shorter than me, and every part of her five-foot frame was absolutely tiny.  Like someone had put her in a Willy Wonka machine and miniature-ized her.  Her hair had probably been processed 20 times this month alone, and her smile was more trained than genuine, but there was something very girlishly pretty and yet authoritative, about this diminutive woman.  She was also strong and toned, in a way that made me think she could probably back-handspring her way through the locker room, and do a layout, full-twist landing onto the treadmill in the cardio room.

As she stood there, naked, looking at me and waiting for an answer, I contemplated how to respond to this question.  I mean, yes, I'm a dancer.  But I knew she didn't exactly mean ballet.  This little powerhouse was a stripper, an occupation that has fascinated me as often as it's turned my stomach.

Learn something new every day

So, I haven't blogged for a long time.  Okay, a really long time.  I thought at first I'd write some kind of long apology, listing all the various excuses for my absence, then reprimanding myself publicly for creating the excuses, and then coming up with some passionate manifesto for how I am going to write all of the time - no - every day from now on.  I thought about making myself write 100 times that I will not take a day off from blogging ever again, even if I don't feel like it, because writing something  is better than nothing at all.  And that getting started is the hardest part and the first step...blah blah blah.

Fuck, no. That just seemed pathetic.

But!  It got me thinking about lists.  I fucking love lists.  Love 'em.  Like a beyond-all-reason-and-sense, cannot-function-without-them kind of love. So, instead of a self-deprecating, pitiful diatribe about my shortcomings as a writer, I am going to write a list. (Hear that? It even sounds cool. Lisssst.)

Here it is: My list of 50 things I've learned since the last time I blogged: