Enlarge the Compassion Sac

I am sorry that so many men are obsessed with penis size. They worry about the wrong organ. There needs to be a Viagra for heart size and dysfunction.

I know many might tell me that penis size does matter to women.  If you are abnormally small or large, yes that would likely be an issue.  We do need to feel it, yet we do not want to need the ER. 

The size of one’s humanity matters more to so many of us.  If any woman ever made you feel bad about the size of your genitals, that was a rotten thing for her to do.  It is her flaw, not yours.

I’ve known men who wouldn’t work on their main relationship in a genuine way, but would take pills with unknown side effects to make sure their dick worked.  I often thought what about trying to have an honest relationship where your dick isn’t weighed down by all the lies and cheating and being shitty in general.  But that doesn’t come in pill form.

Some of you may want to tell me about all the women who alter themselves – boob jobs, nose jobs, etc.  They also are focusing on the wrong parts most of the time.  Nobody I know looks forward to wrinkling, but when messed with too much, some people end up looking much worse.

I believe there is a good place for plastic surgery – burn victims is one example.  But deciding you need a bigger anything due to standards set by others is where I feel we’ve been pressured into a view that may not have authentically been ours to begin with.  I know of no newborn who cares if the feeding comes from a small, medium, large, or extra-large breast.  As long as that mammary gland is working and its owner is loving, don't mess with a perfect happening.

Shit Happens, and Then It Happens Again

The universe has presented me with a milder case of my childhood once again. As Oprah has said, until I learn what I need to learn, those opportunities will appear again and again.  My best friend refers to it like a vaccine – “…a milder form of the disease that hopefully makes you stronger.”

There are some differences.  Important ones.  The people involved are not my family (though they like to throw that word around).  I have a voice and complete articulate thoughts.  Though not the majority, there are ears and hearts, of those who see things clearly, open to me.  I do attribute God/the universe/whatever higher power that exists with blessing me with certain people/angels just when things seem darkest and least hopeful. 

Another difference is having experienced the freedom when I see things for what they truly are, not what I’d like to think they are or need them to be.  It frees up my energy to proceed as necessary.  And, of course, my anti-depressants help too.

I’d like to think that as long as I’m still growing, I still have a place on the Earth.

Birthdays, Books, and Flaccidity

I just found out on May 25th, which is my late mother's birthday, that it is also Eve Ensler's birthday.  Both are pioneers in their own right.  

When I was in a production of Ensler's Vagina Monologues, I remember saying to a co-actress, "I hope my mother can see this."  She answered, "Your mother probably has the best seat in the house."

My mother certainly deserved the best seat in the house.

At my job, staff is being encouraged to read 

which I am enjoying so much.  

My reading/writing class and I are reading  

 

     

which we are enjoying together.  I love ending the school cycle on a high note.

My buddy and I concluded that I should consider this a special skill to add to my resume:  I can talk most men out of their hard-on within sixty seconds.   It is a useful skill.