Saturday, July 12, 2008
All Nude All the Time
My S Factor class meets Fridays at 4:30. Yesterday, like most Fridays, I writhed around on the floor with nine other scantily-clad women for two hours. Loud music engulfed us, and warm, dim light surrounded us. After a three week summer hiatus, I had forgotten how much I value this weekly ritual of paying homage to my body and soul. This sexual, sensual revelry is a source of profound joy and satisfaction in my life.
I started taking class a little over a year and a half ago because I thought pole dancing would be a cool skill to have (it so is), and because I aspired to increase the ripped-ness of my biceps. I didn't realize that that was only one small part of a much bigger picture. In fact, I scoffed at the notion that pole dancing and stripteese could be anything more than a sexy workout. Over the course of the last eighteen months, I have learned far more than how to hang upside down and take off my shirt. I have gained far more than I could have ever imagined.
As I sat yesterday and watched my classmates bare their souls through their dances, I felt insanely lucky. How often is it that I get to bask in the presence of sexually confident and alert beings? How frequently do I get to experience completely honest and vulnerable communication, let alone communication of a physical, sensual variety? The answer is, once a week on Fridays at 4:30.
Surely, I have opportunities for open communication in other aspects of my life. In fact, I seek them out. But there is something uber-exciting about experiencing this communication in such a focused and charged setting (OK, I admit the lacy underwear help, too). In my day-to-day life I see women spending so much time tearing one another down -- tearing themselves down -- "Am I too fat?" "She's too fat." "I can't believe you're wearing that." "I could never wear that." "What a slut." "What a prude." My class provides a fantastically refreshing respite from this storm of negativity. It is full of supportive women -- women who cheer you up when you fall, and cheer you on when you soar, both in class and out.
Of course it takes a degree of confidence to strip out of one's clothes in front of others, and the results can be electrifying, but it is even more risky and exhilarating to expose one's soul, one's self. Each week in class we have the opportunity to do this. To be real.
I relish the high I feel having exposed myself, and I am honored that others trust me and the rest of our class with their bare souls. This nudity of the spirit is not limited to the classroom. We can't help but carry it away with us each week. Maybe it manifests in the courage to admit new love or the strength to give honest feedback to a friend. As layers of clothing come off in class and I fly around the pole, I am able to expose more of myself in life and test my wings. Damn! Nudity is hot!
(Image courtesy of Eric C. Carter at Dizzy Pixel.)Labels: body image, dance, fitness, rant
tidbit posted by Mosa @ 10:56 PM
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
These Are a Few of My Favorite Things
I love summertime! I love those rare nights where I can go sweaterless in San Francisco. I love cool drinks and brown skin. I love how everyone's chaotic pace slows just a bit. Needless to say, I have been enjoying the past few weeks, and I am abuzz with the thrill of knowing that I have spent less of it than I have left to spend; there are two whole months left of this juicy season. Yum.
In the last few weeks I have found two new things that have already made my summer better, and I look forward to making use of both as I bask in my favorite time of year. They are unrelated, but both make my heart smile and my mouth jabber on about them. The first is workout skirts. These fantastic little spandex skorts allow me to feel the breeze on my legs without subjecting myself, and those around me, to the horrors of bike shorts or the gaping indiscretion that loose-legged shorts provide -- no one likes to share too much during sit-ups at the gym. For the last few years I have been wearing capri pants to the gym and rolling them up as I begin to overheat. Not exactly a Vogue moment. Workout skirts keep me cool and "cool." A friend of mine even wore hers out dancing the other night. It was a hit. I am inspired to pull a Smurfette and buy seventeen of them so I can have a closet full at the ready. I look forward to reliving my favorite trick of second grade: "Oh! You thought I was wearing a skirt? Ha! You are wrong! I sure fooled you!"
While wearing my skorts, I will be sipping my new favorite drink. Recently, I mocked a bartender and learned something very exciting as a result. He was cutting a big bunch of fresh basil, and I asked him if he had condescended to help the kitchen staff. "No," he said, "I make a drink with this." My interest was piqued, and he went on to explain, and then serve to me, a basil infused sparkling lemonade. Just like I crinkled my nose at the thought of my first cucumber water, I was a little suspicious of the tall, beautifully basil-garnished, glass he handed me. Wow! In a matter of seconds, basil became my new favorite drink additive. I have been obsessing about cool basil drinks ever since. The subtle flavor is so refreshing and surprising, and as someone who has always longed to eat basil by the bushel, I am happy to have found a new use for my favorite herb.
After talking to the bartender and sleuthing Al Gore's Fantabulous InterWeb, I concocted a version of my own. Just for fun, I have included the recipe below.
Happy Summer!
Basil Vodka Lemonade
(This is great in a pitcher or punch bowl so a large number of guests can serve themselves.)
1 part basil lemon zest simple sugar (explained below)
1 part vodka
1 part triple sec
1 part fresh lemon juice
2 bunches fresh basil
sparkling lemonade or water (to taste)
Make simple sugar:
Boil one part water and one part sugar with the zest of 2-3 lemons and a bunch of basil. Heat until sugar is fully dissolved. Allow to cool fully, and then strain out all of the solids.
Infuse the vodka:
Place half a bunch of basil in the bottom of your serving bowl or pitcher. Cover with vodka, and allow to sit for an hour or two.
Make the lemonade:
Combine the above listed ingredients in serving vessel. Add ice (for an extra kick pre-make lemonade ice so as it melts the drink's flavor is not diluted). Garnish the drink with fresh lemon slices and basil sprigs.
Enjoy!Labels: fitness, recipe, review
tidbit posted by Mosa @ 11:52 AM
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Wii's Got the Whole Pole in It's Hands!
Well, maybe I do need a Wii after all:
abcnews.com
Labels: dance, fitness
tidbit posted by Mosa @ 11:34 PM
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Shameless
Feet firmly planted in a wide stance, knees slightly bowed she stood in front of the full-length mirror, naked for all the world to see – at least all the world currently inhabiting the women’s locker room. She was not naked in the transition from swimsuit to sweat pants or the one from towel to tank top, she was just plain ol’ naked. Her flesh was not hidden by the open door of a locker or a strategically placed duffle bag. She stood in the sink area away from the lockers and the other semi-clad women. She flossed her teeth as one roll of fat rested upon another around her middle and her breasts draped across that, her nipples like two cherries on her melting sundae best.
I caught a glimpse of her on my way to the toilet and thought about her the whole time I was peeing. I have not been consistent in my views on public nudity. On the one hand, I had to give her a silent, “Right on, Sister!” for displaying with pride her whole self. On the other hand, isn’t it polite to show a little more modesty and a little less mons pubis when removing clothes in front of others? By the time I made it to the sink, the first hand had won – hands down. As if to answer my question of modesty, the fat, naked, grandma – still in front of the mirror – took a swig of mouth wash and began to gargle. Her short dark hair stood at attention in all directions, much like the mane of lion who’d had a run-in with an electric fence. Like the queen of her pride, she began to arch her head back; I could almost hear her Listerine-scented roar: “Damn right I am naked. I own my body, and right now I own the whole damn locker room. Whatcha gonna do about it?” Grandma arched until the back of her skull was level with her ample bottom, gargling the whole way.
In my mind, she is still arching backwards. The image of the naked, lioness grandma is tattooed on my brain (it wouldn’t fit on my ankle). I have spent years practicing my awkward dance of trying to avoid nipple or pubic hair exposure while changing in front of others. I have balanced a bra here and shimmied a skirt there in order to keep from view no more than a square foot of my fleshy real estate. Why?
When I was a kid, I was naked all of the time; I showered in front of my mother and sister right through the sixth grade. Even in high school I had a group of friends with whom I’d roam the halls, and the woods, sans clothes. It wasn’t even a sexual thing (most of the time); we just enjoyed being naked. I still enjoy being naked. My husband sometimes has to give me a not-so-gentle reminder that we “live in a goddamn fishbowl!” so that I will put on a robe or turn off the lights.
The locker room has been a different story for me. Perhaps I fear the scrutiny of others; if I keep a towel around my waist they won’t be able to see exactly how many dimples reside on the flesh of my bottom. Further, I seek not to offend. I don’t want to make other people feel uncomfortable by subjecting them to a fuller view than they had anticipated. I want to be polite.
Wow! What a load of BS!! Who the hell cares how many dimples I have on my ass? Why should it matter if a nipple or two comes into contact with an eyeball or two? Who made these stupid rules, and why the hell have I been politely following them?
Grandma makes her own rules, and I thought of her today as I emerged from the public shower post work out. Instead of awkwardly squirming and wriggling to make myself invisible while I reached for my towel, I stood up straight and dried myself as I would in the privacy of my own home. I took my time getting dressed. I didn’t quite make it to flossing in the buff, but I didn’t hide either. As ridiculous as the image of a naked, gargling grandma may be, it is not nearly as ridiculous as the concept of a grown woman so afraid of revealing her own body that she foolishly dances with her towel to avoid, at all costs, the dreaded exposure of a nipple. Right on, Grandma! By the time I’m sixty, I hope to be gargling right along side you.
Labels: body image, fitness, rant
tidbit posted by Mosa @ 10:09 AM
Monday, February 4, 2008
That's Hot!
Anna Benson, you’re my hero! Anna Benson, along with her sister, Cynthia, and their company, The Firm, first introduced me to exercise videos, and exercise more generally, some thirteen years ago. They had already been at it for a while having combined weights and aerobics back in the late 1970’s before anyone else was doing it, let alone women. I joined thousands of other sweaty, buff females and became cultishly addicted to The Firm’s numerous exercise videos (on VHS, no less). I knew I was hooked the moment I spotted my bicep rippling under my taut, young skin. I sang the praises of The Firm to anyone who would listen (and some who wouldn’t), and I was proud when people would ask me what gym I went to. “Oh, me? I don’t go to the gym at all. I do exercise videos from the eighties in my living room.” Ah, yes, those were the days.
I remember giggling at The Firm’s newsletter when they suggested doing Kegel exercises to “increase sexual pleasure,” but I did them anyway. Later videos produced by the company even had instructors leading Kegels with a subtle fist-clenching gesture to queue the viewer. I recall, as a young woman, being a little shocked that these crazy ladies from South Carolina were shamelessly teaching me how to exercise my vaginal muscles. They even showed detailed diagrams and said the word “vagina” matter-of-factly.
Years passed, and the Benson sisters sold the rights to The Firm. The numerous, and talented, Firm instructors split-up and started projects of their own. Anna went on to produce a number of new videos, including the Kick Butt series, which I own and adore. While The Firm and its creators remained an important influence on my workout regimen, they took a back burner to the elliptical machine and other exercises I could do while watching Martha Stewart roast root vegetables and talk to the stars of Desperate Housewives.
Recently, I received an email announcing that Anna has a new trick up her…. sleeve. Anna Benson has yet again made exercise anything but routine and, in the process, she’s won my heart again. In her new video, RootLock she is not only leading a variety of pelvic floor strengthening exercises, she is recommending the use of Smart Balls by Fun Factory to enhance these exercises. Complete with colorful balloon models of the pelvis, Anna’s new video makes me want to squeeze her (and my perineum).
Not only is she a successful and creative businesswoman, she is proud of being a sexually integrated woman. What a great roll-model! Why not exercise your vagina when you hit your abs and quads? Why not incorporate sex toys into a fun and challenging workout? Suddenly, the elliptical machine is not sounding so appealing. I think I will stay home and lift weights – inside and out. Thank you, Anna Benson. I remain a Firm Believer!
Labels: fitness, toys
tidbit posted by Mosa @ 9:07 PM
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