Taking my hat off to Julia

I had an evening out this week with an old friend I’ve not seen for ages; it was hugely enjoyable.

We drove out to a small village pub a few miles away to sample their lovely home-cooked food and have a couple of drinks.  The place was full of people having Christmas parties, with paper hats, crackers and all the festive paraphernalia.  We managed to get a table in a cosy corner right by the open log fire and got down to some long overdue catching up.

My friend has been on her own for the last six years, since her now ex husband traded her in for a younger model.  Have to say, Julia was looking great.

I also have to say that six years on from the most traumatic period of her life, my midlife friend has things pretty much sorted.  Yes, she struggles financially even though she has a full-time job.  Yes, she has had to take on endless new responsibilities.  But aside from all the obvious problems of being on her own after a being in a long marriage, she’s a whole new woman.  The Julia I knew long ago was always assertive to an extent; she ran her own successful business for many years.  But the new Julia makes the old Julia look like a mere shadow.

Julia is in her mid fifties; her attitude to life is that of someone 20 years younger.  “Young at heart” is a good description.

She told me of her trip to Hungary to get her teeth fixed; she went there because it cost less than having the treatment in the UK.  It involved three trips, and she travelled alone for two of them.  Whilst there, she visited the sights of Budapest, enjoyed the luxurious spa waters in the city, stayed in a good hotel and ate out.  All alone.  And she was happy with that.

This last summer Julia went on a camping trip with her two grown up children; camping would not normally be Julia’s thing.  The three of them and Julia’s dog stayed in a large old tent usually used by the kids for music festivals, so it’s well-used to say the least.  And the camping pitch they had in Cornwall was on a serious slope (they were late booking!), the result of which found Julia waking up each morning in a bundle several feet from where she started out as she’d slipped down the slope during the night.  They had breakdowns with the old car they were travelling in, requiring a new clutch cable and new wheel bearings just to keep them on the road.  All of this she thought amusing, although when her son suggested whilst driving home that they repeat the trip next year, she told him, “Over my dead body!”

There were other very funny tales to tell that evening and I came away with panda eyes from my mascara running down my face.  Inevitably, some of the jokes were at the expense of her ex husband, who incidentally is on to his third relationship since the split from Julia.  “He’s obviously having a hard time finding a good replacement!” was what she said with a grin.

Julia is more confident and happier in her own skin than ever before.  She’s thinking of re-starting her business on a part-time basis.  She’s thinking of the future; she feels that a new man would be quite nice, although she’s not sure where to find one.  She was hoping I could perhaps supply her with one, but I don’t know of any going spare right now.  She also knows that a new relationship could work now that she’s recovered and found fresh confidence; any sooner would probably have spelled disaster.

I’m loving that new sparkle she has in her eyes.  I admire her “young at heart” approach to life.  I adore that she can swear creatively, laugh and joke around and look to the future with joy.  I’m completely and properly taking my hat off to Julia.

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I Am Woman, Hear Me… Never Mind

I want to be a man.  If only so I can feel good about myself when reading magazines.

I’m a smart, confident woman.  I subscribe to the Atlantic Monthly and Vanity Fair so I can stay abreast of liberal politics and sit in my “garden-level” apartment pretending to be an elitist, East Coast blueblood.  Lately though, I’ve been keeping up with women’s magazines for blog ideas.  And I gotta tell you, reading them makes you feel like dog doo.

First are all those supermodels and actresses with their awesomely toned bodies, shiny hair and perfect skin.  Their photos are surrounded by tips on how we can achieve the look as if none of us have jobs or families to attend to.  Did you know Jennifer Aniston had two rice cakes and a teaspoon of peanut butter for breakfast?  When she wants to splurge, she eats bread.  Wild woman.

Women have been kvetching about the impossible beauty standards set by ladies’ mags for ages.  But to me, the articles are the killers.  In the past month alone, I’ve found out my hair is unsexy (because it’s curly), stress may cause infertility and men’s midlife crises now start at thirty-five.  I read an advice column that screamed, “Help!  My Internet Boyfriend’s a Bisexual Cross Dresser” and another offering, “5 Signs You’re a Bad Co-Worker”.  And I thoroughly enjoyed reading the masterpiece, “Why I Stole My Best Friend’s Guy”.  As if skyrocketing unemployment and endless wars aren’t scary enough.  Now we have to fear our best gals mackin’ on our dudes.

‘Course, in these mags, men are a bunch of selfish, untrustworthy hound dogs who either game-play their way into women’s undies or must be manipulated into relationships.  “Make Him Stay” and “Why Men Cheat” are constant titles, while the slew of articles meant to guide women through human relationships could be summed up by the headline, “Ten Things Women Do to Screw Up Their Relationships (and, basically, their lives…idiots)”.

The best article this week was a stunning piece of investigative journalism entitled, “Did You Know Your Vagina Can Fall Out of Your Body?”  Must be one of those secrets the medical industry keeps from us.  I can only imagine the conversations that’ll now take place across the nation: “You hear about Gwendolyn?  She was running to catch a bus and her vagina just popped right on out!”

Ladies, we’re doomed.  If you believe women’s magazines, we’re all a bunch of horribly unfit, unlikable, deathly ill losers who no one will ever love.  And we can’t trust anyone.  Not men, not our friends and certainly not ourselves.

Keeping oneself centered in the midst of life’s challenges is quite a feat, though usually I stay fairly balanced.  But now I find myself asking, “why don’t I look like an oiled-up Eva Mendes in my Calvin Klein skivvies?  Will the sunflower seeds I eat be linked to a healthier heart or leprosy?  And who really cares if stress causes sterility if your vagina’s gonna fall out anyway?”

Ah, but men’s magazines.  What beacons of hope!  What tidings they bring of reassurance and good cheer!

There’s Maxim, an orgiastic handbook of gadgets, cars, sports and half-naked starlets.  Maxim is like a guy’s frat brother urging him to have another beer (it won’t kill you), and offering tips on how to sneak out of the house or get his girl to shave everything “down there”.

Then there’s Esquire.  I enjoy this one because their well-written articles treat readers as if they might have brains.  Tailored suits, expensive watches, fancy cars, high-end scotch and disrobing A-list actresses – Esquire’s world of men rocks.  No matter how chubby, boring or unsuccessful a guy is, reading it will make him believe he’s awesome.  They present cover boys like Matt Damon and Bill Clinton as buddies, and offer comforting words for men’s failings.  Romantic ineptitude, professional failure, erectile dysfunction – no worries, Esquire’s got your back.

Reading the October issue, “The Feel Good Issue”, left me positively glowing.  Even before you open the darn thing, they’re already throwing roses at your feet.  The headlines on the cover offered readers the “Sexiest Woman Alive”, “Encouraging Words from President Clinton” and finished off with a “You Look Great, By the Way”.  Sure beats Shape’s, “Scary Truth about Germs”.

Inside was a “Box of Permanent Joy” which included ‘70s sitcoms and Mahler symphonies.  There was “A Guide to – and Celebration of – the Ablutions, Unguents, and Bathroom Rituals that Make Us Men”.  Wow, even their grooming practices are worth celebrating.

Really, I love being a woman.  Though I love peeking into the world of men, I prefer taking on life as a female.  I only wish my magazines liked me as much as I like myself.

This post is reproduced with the kind permission of Laura Warrell, Tart and Soul.  To enjoy further snippets of Laura’s work click the link below:

http://tartandsoul.com

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Billy Connolly’s Prostate Comedy

Billy Connolly jokes about a common midlife issue – the prostate! This is midlife humour from an hilarious middle aged man to put a smile on the faces of all male and female midlifers.  Comedy video that’s sure to make you laugh out loud.

more about “Billy Connolly’s Prostate Comedy“, posted with vodpod

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