As a 50 year young aging bombshell, I have recently heard from another single mother friend; a few years more chronically mature ... "Estrogen is Sexy." I absolutely adore this new quotable. For, if this gorgeous girly horome, males are so prone to literally hunt down ... apparently becomes depleted in woman, as they age, is not already famous, then, by the time I get through with one quietly demure first-runner up, she shall definately be heard and seen.
Is this why at 50, I am really not that much 'into men' or little boys, for that matter? And, I rarely fantasize about any victorious visitors coming inside ... to play. Well, maybe sometimes ... Is it really my hormones that control me, or do I manage them? Maybe I could easily handle it all from my portable one woman office; my cell? Could I program my estrogent to flow according to plan, sending off the sweet aroma of my fabulour phermones? Can desirous males still 'smell me coming?' or do men just want anyone at any given time at their disposal? Most testosterone carriers, I mean.
My good looking Japanese landlord, whom lives next door, when he isn't living at his posh marble-floored Kits address, once told me that he goes to the gym for his hormones. I have always wondered what this meant. Does he mean that he feels better with a little dopamine to relax him, as he collects all the rent money? Or, does he simply enjoy the jolt of a joyous endorphin-high, keeping mind and body more in beautiful balance? Does this somehow conclude, as to why, last month, Mr. Sexy middle-aged Japanese-style man, offered: "I care about you. I really care about you?" Did he put something in his store-bought gatorade or was he simply relishing the lingering lusciousness of my depleting estrogen?
I would like to begin studying my hormones. Is there some sort of an imbalance of progesterone and estrogen, causing me stare into the poorly lit bathroom mirror and swear I see one more white hair? Good thing I am a natural sunshine-golden blond. I will never go grey. Although, I am begining to wonder ... a little too much for my liking or licking. No, I actually have checked downstairs in the vacant mini-guest room, and all gold is of shining copper, curled up and resting. Someday, I will surely place an "occupied" sign in the enchanted entrance way. For now, maybe some missing hormones, have found themselves lost and needed to brought back to life and love.
Funny, how a 48 year old virgin male that I honestly do know; obviously 'not that well', clocked my monthly menses for the proceeding 5 years, and that was in 2001. Always concerned before a sexy photo shoot, that I might be bleeding all over his lustful lens. Did he think I would remind him of the virgin he still is or was it the carrying of too many tons of tampons home for his mother and sister that caused him the utmost of mensiacal concern? Yes, that is a word, as of now! So, get used to it. Just like discussing female hormones in cyberspace. Kinda fills up the cold emptiness of an emotional undercharged void, don't you agree?
I know a 63 year old woman, who claims she is not a dominitreux and excuses her permissive sexual antics, admitting only that she was "vulnerable" in her 40's and 50's, causing her to sleep and a few 'other things' with a couple of lesbians and to dominate men for money and free of charge. She said she was simply "nurturing" these males who"s heads she stroked while they lay upon her lovely lap. Anyway, the most fascinating part is that this very fit and youthful dyed plantinum blond, pretty and playful, recently shared with me that she still has her period. I am told that it is all the roller-blading and jogging around the seawall, on a daily basis, that keeps her heart pumping and her blood flowing ... This ageless wonder could be bloody well right?
Do you know that some people are quite taken aback when I mention, as I have; while serenely sweating in the sauna, last week, that I still bleed? It was a middle0-aged male, who will most possibly continue to produce sperm and make babies until he is 103 that showed his shock, that evening. Everyone knows that if I guy gets a finger up his prostate, and many do like it ... and he checks out fine, he is virually free to play around for a milleniui. Yet, why don't more boys know enough to be a real man and understand that some females such as me, can begin bleeding later at 17 1/2, and as did my 95 year old aunt who no longer wears a Kotex pad and not even a Depends, to remain int he foruituous flow ... Forever. Well, almost.
Somtimes I like to ruminate on giving birth to another child. Even though it woudl most probably be wise to begin with finding the close to perfect male partner, first ... I travel to all these timeless places of purity and preciousness, tenderly touching my gentle fingers upon the crown of the babies soft spot. Then, my left brain takes over and I start to tabulate that by the time this 2nd baby reaches puberty, where the testosterone-propelled first one is right now, I could be well beyond a mid-life crisis, into major men-a-pause, and may have already unmercilessly endured a complete meltdown of all juicy bodily juices. Fallingl through the rarified roof with my gravified 36DD's, which I have heard, don' t always 'grow on you', after a few too many decades of self-deceit, even with lifting weights for my pectoral region, since I was 19. What makes it all the breast and better, is that one of my many x's, this one from my early twenties telling me, that I once had a glorious set of gorgeouly hardened soft balls for boobies. Of course, never contemplating any of my much taken advantage of ... and for granted body parts would even hope to despicably deliver unto ... anywhere else!
So, how much of this is about hormones? I know that my son's 'distant Daddy', as I so kindly refer to him, and I, used to joke about a book we were going to write: "Raging Hormones". I was pregnant. So what if he was lying, stealing and cheating, with a nice slap and kick thrown in for good and manly measure ... We were having a baby, together. I was doing all the work and he was snorting cocaine until 8 months pregnant, when I finally let him back in ... Knock. Knock. What is a big adult-sized pain in the tight, toned ass and the prettiest pound in the belly, when you are expecting only the best, have done your reading, watched your mom raise 5 kids, and still remember Carol Burnette's classic comedic comeback line, concerning pregnancy: "Sure, having a baby is a cinch. Just pull your lower lip up over your head ...".
Well, my homeschooling 13 year young son, who came out of the cabbage patch a mere and magical "11 days late" and spent over 1 1/2 hrs checking out his very own cozy birth cannal, before narrowly escaping, barely covered in nary a spot of vernix, and starving to latch onto some real H CUP booby,, beckons me to watch one more comedy, on our new big screen. Could be a real scream ... Hope you have enjoyed my thoughts on a few subjects, including these hormones of magical mine that I really do not understand, merely live with and appreciate as I best know how. Guess I shall soon do some intense research on this aging bombshell temple of mine. Who knows, maybe the books and internet will tell me something that I don't know. Possibly how to refrigerate, for posterity, my "old eggs" as my lesbian-in-the-closet doctor told me, before she was diagnosed with terminal cancer, surely for living her own loveless lie. Guess I will check my hormones at the bedroom door before I laugh in the face of chronological adversity, and have a good cry over life and milk that never has to be spilled, because it is is still mine own to supply on demand, should I ever put in a heavenly request, at breast!
Katherine Marion
http://www.supernaturalwoman.com/
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