Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Pond Prince

Further fairy tale haiku.
--------------------------------

Upstart scientist
Proud, burning to make my name
Writing my treatise

Non-amniotic
Ectothermic tetrapod
Lissamphibia

Taxonomy first,
Phylogenetic tree next
No detail too small

Biological,
Physiological, and
Morphological

Esoteric traits
All-consuming minutiae
Obsessive was I

Study incomplete
Compelled to seek more knowledge
Turned to dark magic

Metamorphosis
Human to tadpole to frog
I am one with them

Hop, jump, flick my tongue
Consume gastropods, insects
Croak my song at night

My first-hand account:
Intimate portrait of frog
Tome becomes famous.

Golden ball descends
Orb of light, like her beauty
Shining through the mire

Frowning lovely lips
Averted entrancing eyes
Opalescent skin

Downy nape of neck
Ripening breasts - rosy fruit
Scented underarms

Smoothness of taut thighs
Curve of waist and small of back
Tempting, enticing.

Desire awakens
Not book knowledge, but carnal
Primal, visceral

I reach out to her
She recoils at my wet touch:
"Slimy cold creature!"

Struck down, horrified
Fame, facts, data, all for naught.
Amphibious Man

Unseemly moist skin
Webbed feet, gaping mouth, bulged eyes
Repellent am I

What have I become?
I beg, I plead:  "Just one kiss!"
All dignity gone.

Gathered in her skirt
Untouched, uncaressed, unloved
Returned to the pond.

Heartsick, rejected
Amplexus is forever
Unconsummated.

Monday, May 7, 2012

Carraig Aonair

We are the captains of our own ships sailing the sea of life, but in times of a stormy weather, you will discover true friends when they don't hesitate to be a lighthouse. ~ Dodinsky

This lovely image of Fastnet Lighthouse in Ireland was found at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Fastnet_Carraig_Aonair.jpg

Sunday, May 6, 2012

Melons

The calendar reminds us that Herself has her annual mammogram tomorrow.  In honor of the occasion, today we are contemplating cleavage. 

Growing up in the shadow of her beautiful younger sister, Herself was a scrawny, underdeveloped and awkward child who, on the first day of middle school, was inadvertently directed by middle-school teachers, uncertain of her gender, to the boys' locker room. Her male peers, who were aware that she was a girl, muttered "flat as a board" in false sotto voce to one another in the hallways, elbowing one another for emphasis when she walked by.  She rolled her eyes in their direction and otherwise ignored them, though she withered internally just a bit. She couldn't help being a late bloomer. 

Puberty eventually mercifully arrived, and with it, the Boob Fairy.  She went quickly from having no bosom to speak of, to having rather ample Tracts of Land. It was a surprise, not only to Herself, but to those who did not see her very often.  (A female acquaintance asked pointedly, when seeing Herself for the first time in a year: "What did you do, stuff your bra?")  Herself had to learn a whole new way of dressing:  it was (and still is) a delicate balance, to wear clothes that were sufficiently form-fitting to ensure that she did not look hefty, and yet that were not so snug or low cut as to be unduly revealing.

That was when things became difficult in an entirely different way.  Attending a baseball game with her classmates in high school, she endured the indignity of being hooted at by drunken middle-aged men in the bleachers: Nice sweatshirt, sweetheart!  There were also the college boys who were all too willing to offer "friendship with benefits" - though no friendship without the benefits. There were always, too, assumptions -- by men and women alike -- that the ease with which one could get into Herself's pants was directly related to her cup size.  Unfair, and untrue.

Pregnancy and motherhood generated within Herself a profound respect and fondness for her mammaries:  they suffered valiantly through the pain of mastitis, the indignities of lactation, and the years of being the primary food source for the infant Offspring, all without complaint. And now, the Girls have retired, and are merely decorative rather than functional.  Herself is grateful for their service, and looks after them, making sure they have annual checkups as well as comfortable support and coverage.

That is the newest challenge.  The motherhood era -- and middle-age -- have left a few extra pounds that have yielded an additional cup size or two, depending on the make of a garment, the phase of the moon, and other mysterious variables.  Shopping for clothes, brassieres, and bathing suits is a challenge that requires significant mental fortitude as well as consoling chocolate afterwards.  Regular retail stores do not often carry DD/E items, nor do they stock smaller band sizes with larger cups:  it is apparently assumed that if one has a large cup size, one must also have a large ribcage, which is not true for Herself.  Things don't often fit properly. Even T-shirts can be troublesome. And she is always anxious about needing to dress for semi-formal, or Heaven Forbid, formal, occasions.

Every now and then, she lucks out and finds a successful garment.  She wore one such dress yesterday evening, when she and her Beloved Husband had to attend a local professional function.  When they stepped off the elevator, a photographer from a local newspaper --amusingly-- practically ran towards them asking for a picture.  They obliged, though Herself was chagrined (she thoroughly dislikes having her picture taken).  She is fairly certain, too, that had it not been for her visible cleavage, the photographer likely would not have been remotely interested.  So mesmerizing, the melons, even now. Will the picture appear in the paper?  We shall see.

As this is a publicly available blog, there is no photograph to accompany this entry today. :)

Saturday, May 5, 2012

Tooth Koala

After having posted a rare story about her father, Herself thought it might also be nice to tell a short story about her mother, too.

When Herself was little, she was extremely fond of koalas.  She had several stuffed koalas (in fact, she still has the same ones now, tucked away in storage in the house), and would usually take one of them on every family trip.  She took a larger stuffed koala on a plane trip to visit her grandparents one time.  When asked why she had brought that particular koala with her, she replied:  "Koala had his heart set on going."

When Herself began losing her baby teeth, she would, as is traditional, leave them under her pillow for the Tooth Fairy.  Except, for her, there was no Tooth Fairy:  it was the Tooth Koala.  The Tooth Koala would faithfully leave a quarter every time. The Tooth Koala never forgot.

When Herself lost her very last baby tooth, she wrote a small note to the Tooth Koala, thanking her for her years of service and telling her that she would be missed.  The Tooth Koala -- for the first and last time -- left a tiny note in return. 

Herself knew by then that the Tooth Koala was, in fact, her mother.  The unwavering diligence of every toothy visit, and the daintiness and kindness of that miniscule, carefully drawn missive from the Tooth Koala, are heartwarming and unforgettable.

She still has that note, too. 



Friday, May 4, 2012

Hood

And once more, fairy tale haiku.
---------------------------------------

Red-caped young beauty
Skipping the path through the woods
Swinging her basket

Dutiful grandchild
Cares for me in my dotage
Wasting her young life

Purposeless, I wait
Children grown, husband long dead
Helpless invalid

Burdensome am I
She complains not, but I know
My time is long past.

I hear your howling
Your pain and my pain are one
Hungering are we

O, Beloved Wolf
Release me from my old bones
Take me, consume me

Quickly, quickly now
Lest she see my suffering
We shall all be free.


Thursday, May 3, 2012

Queen

Fairy tale haiku continue.
-------------------------------

Fairest of them all -
Skin as snow and ruby lips
Ebony tresses

Magical mirror
Cruelly crushes my heart
She is more than I

Feeble, the huntsman
Mesmerized by loveliness
Allowed her escape

Seven dwarved miners
Selfishly offered shelter -
Captive housekeeper

So willing to trust,
Resplendent and greedy:
Delicious apple

Glass coffin for her;
Weeping, weeping, tiny men
I reign, we are safe

Shallow, half-wit prince
Carries off her still body
Nature's work of art

Dislodged, the poison -
My rejoicing, premature:
She has awakened

She will be crowned queen
Enraptured celebration
Foolish commoners

None but I can see
Only skin deep, her beauty.
She cares not at all

She will trample us
Under her small dainty heel
And leave us to die

Abandoned, bereft
Not a soul will realize
She loves just herself.



Tuesday, May 1, 2012

Attractive Men

Slightly adult content warning:   today we delve a little into a woman's point of view regarding human attraction.  Consider yourself warned!

Herself recently had some lively discussions with a small group of her internet ladyfriends.  These women have known each other for years; they first met ages ago on one of the Moms Online message boards of AOL.  They have since gravitated to Facebook where they have a "Secret Group" in which they post with one another.  Some of the ladies have met in person, though many have not.  They are intelligent, thoughtful, humorous.  Their support for one another, despite living in different places around the country and mostly never having laid eyes on one another, is steadfast and unwavering. They can discuss all kinds of topics, from children, to husbands, to jobs, to health, to social and political questions. 

Of course, when a bunch of ladies gets together, the conversation periodically turns to Men and (of course) sex. Some of the ladies are single, and others are married; nevertheless, they all engage in speculation regarding certain comely men  -- e.g., various actors or other well-known individuals -- and their physical attributes, and whether such men might be good physical partners (so to speak).  There are varying opinions regarding eye color, hair style, and presence or absence of facial hair, as well as regarding the importance of particular body parts:  hands, arms, legs, shoulders, butts. 

(And yes, there have been a few brief excursions into their thoughts on The Manly Package.  While I shall exercise discretion and not go into significant anatomical detail, for those who are wondering, the consensus was: that's not particularly important. At all.  Should you require more details on this particular issue, though, you'll have to ask Herself in person.) 

For our edification, I present a few of the bits of information I gleaned from listening in on those discussions.

What is it that makes a man attractive?  I have learned that a distinction should be drawn between handsome and attractive. These are, in fact, entirely different things.  Much like the relationship between squares and rectangles - all squares are rectangles, but not all rectangles are squares - attractive men are handsome, but not all handsome men are attractive.

What is handsome?  Aesthetically pleasing.  Visually striking. Easy on the eyes.  Hooty hoo!

The actual factors that go into a determination of handsomeness vary tremendously.  Science has made an attempt to define beauty/handsomeness by pointing to symmetry of features and form as well as to physical attributes suggestive of fertility or successful survival strategies.  Many of these judgments are likely subconscious and biological.  There's no way to define handsome adequately;  women just know it when they see it.  As you no doubt realize, too, who is considered handsome differs from woman to woman.

Handsome is nebulous; but what about attractive?  Attractiveness is that overarching quality that inspires a woman to consider a man as a potential partner.  It is so much more than mere handsomeness. 

Perhaps unexpectedly, attractiveness most vitally includes modesty.  Fewer things are less attractive than a man who thinks highly of, or is too quick to display, his own handsomeness (whether real or self-perceived).  What might work for the peacock does not yield similar success in humans. Herself summed it up thusly after she and the ladies had considered a group of photographs of good looking men: 

Though the beefcake pictures are Very Nice Indeed, [if I were single] I wouldn't ever get into bed with any of those men. Anyone who is that self-confident/assured to pose nude or nearly so, is not someone I'd be comfortable with. Give me a man who is secretly a little horrified/worried about being naked - that's what I would want. It would be a more honest experience for me.

Attractiveness is also intelligence, wit and humor: for a man to be attractive, he must be able to carry on a good conversation, and he must be able to laugh and to make a woman laugh. Add in, too, a bit of competence in a field of his choosing (he should know something about something); a smidgen of attentiveness (he remembers something she has said previously and mentions it); a morsel of thoughtfulness (he looks out for her comfort, either physical or emotional); and a dash of gentlemanly behavior (he occasionally opens that door for her). Also required:  Honesty. Trustworthiness. Reliability.

As you can see, handsomeness is a mere miniscule fraction of attractiveness:  it is, rather, the sum character of the man that makes him the most attractive.  I wonder whether many men are actually aware of this?  Well, my intrepid readers, at least those of you who are men now do.

Beauty is not in the face; beauty is a light in the heart. - Kahlil Gibran

Certainly a very handsome lizard.
Only the lady lizards can tell us for sure, though,
whether he is also an attractive lizard.