Wednesday, August 15, 2012

FIERCE & Famous: Helen Gurley Brown

Back in the day when I was an actual journalist, I had this idea that writing about sex would be the ultimate job.

I was inspired by Anka Radokovich, and even more so by former Cosmo editor, Helen Gurley Brown, who inspired a generation of women to have GREAT sex on their terms. 

I wanted to BE Anka and BE Helen. These women were FIERCE! 

Even though Helen lived to a ripe old age of 90, her passing on Aug. 13, 2012, caused me to reflect and see how far women have come (hahah yep, pun intended) in regards to being comfortable when it comes (bahahahaah) to talking about sex.

Sex, fucking, making love; it's all supposed to be something we can enjoy without the guilt yet so many women still have problems talking about it or, worse, even laughing about it.

I'm 37 so I've got a few years experience when it comes (HA!) to sex. I like to talk about it, make inappropriate comments in regards to it, and especially turn the most innocent comments on Twitter into a sexual innuendo.


Because (mostly) it makes people laugh. Those who are offended usually have sexual hang up *cough* in my humble opinion.

Everyone has sex. EVERYONE. And everyone masturbates or gets off in one way or another so as long as you're not hurting anyone (unless you're into that), or involving kids or animals (so not acceptable by any standards), then sex SHOULD be something that is enjoyed by all.

What I was 18 and just discovering sex (yes, shocker, I was a virgin until 3 months before my 18th birthday), having Helen say that it was OK for single women to enjoy sex, made my lack of inhibitions feel normal. I never felt like a slut because I didn't wait for a relationship to enjoy sex. I never cared about what other girls thought about me or said about me. I did what I wanted on my terms and enjoyed my single life (thanks Cosmo!).

When I applied to college, my entrance essay was on the taboos of single women having sex and the stigma attached to one-night stands, something I could never understand considering the same labels being applied to women were not stamped on men.

My argument was that in the 1700s, women were burned at the stakes if they appeared to enjoy sex. They were labelled "witches" because clearly women who orgasmed had to have some magical powers. 

I got into college based on that essay (and my sparkling personality) and seriously considered switching my career path from sports writing to being a sexpert of some sort.

I even had an idea for a book based on me and my friends but I never wrote it. A few years later when I was working at a daily paper as a sports scribe, Sex and the City became popular. To this day, I can't see that goddamn show without kicking myself.

Without women like Helen, I often wonder how much longer it would have taken to get to where we are. We've come (BAHAHAHA!) so far since the sexual revolution but we still have a ways to go when it comes to acceptance and removing taboos.

And I'm not talking about 50 Shades of Grey, either. There is far better erotica out there, ladies. All you have to do is google it.

Thanks Helen. Thank you for getting us this far. Rest in peace you naughty girl!

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Wednesday, August 8, 2012

Time to exorcise these demons, these motherfuckers are doin' jumpin' jacks NOW!

Not Afraid by Eminem on Grooveshark
Yeh... I stole that title from Eminem's "Not Afraid"... and this is why:

There was a time when I would blog about my past, tell my sordid stories of growing up in the inner city of Edmonton and over share WAY too much of my life with anyone who felt comfortable reading about it. I haven't done that for a while, mainly because my life is off limits as far as posting about it (plus you would be bored to fuck reading about my dinner menu or how I purged Lola's room for the 10th time this year, seriously who GIVES a shit about that shit?)

 But what I have always been open about is my past, my battle with depression and my grief over losing too many people in my life WAY too soon...


Tonight. I come home from a *shrugs* meh metiocre tweetup only to be thrown into the Tweets of Fire about the demolition of THE CROMDALE. For anyone who knows me or has read my story, you will KNOW what this means to me.

This tweet came through:
Selffop9:07pm via Twitter for iPad
“@TimAdamsCBC: Cromdale no more” @YouAreFIERCEwhataya know - yeah!

Then, my dear friend Jaimie Clements (who I met three years ago BECAUSE of this whole Cromdale bullshit) sent this: Jaimieclements9:49pm via Web
@YouAreFIERCE The Cromdale Hotel is no more! Crumbling to the ground as we speak.

Watching that building come down brick by brick, layer by layer, I can only equate it to how the Cromdale stripped away my own mom's life. She left her heart and soul in that building 30 years ago. 

 I remember. 

I remember because I watched it happen, layer by layer, brick by brick, and to watch on video the slow, torturous demolition of the Cromdale Hotel was fitting because in so many ways, it reflected how my mother's life was stripped away; slowly, painfully, and layer by layer.

My 10-year-old son came into the kitchen while I watched this video and put his arm around me, asking, "Mom, did you know the people who lived there?"

I smiled through my tears and said, "One day, you will know why I'm crying about this."

 He held me tightly and kissed my cheek.

"I love you mom." "Yeh," I said, swatting his ass. "I love you too."  I didn't want him to see my pain or question why the demolition of this building he had never seen, meant anything to him. One day he will know what happened to me and why the demolition of the Cromdale Hotel has me in tears at 10:30 p.m., but tonight is not that night.

 We all have our demons, our stories, and our baggage; it's what we choose to do with them is what matters.

 Lola just came in and saw my twitter stream and said, 'Mom, I came to say goodnight but did you know that YOU ARE FIERCE?" (she says 'fuhse' some sort of accent I can't explain). I said, "Why do you say that??" She pointed to my Twitter stream and said, "Because you tell everyone else that  THEY are FIERCE but really YOU are FIERCE!"

 I broke the cycle. 

My kids are happy, content, and brave. 
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