Things You Can’t Find on Google ( Dear Ladies )

This is a shout out to the female persuasion today, but as always anyone is welcome, and this may shed some light on some things in adult life that we can’t seem to find answers to on the interweb tubes.

A little background: I’m a woman in her mid 30’s and I am lucky enough to have many wonderful women from different age groups and walks of life. I’ve had many opportunities to learn from wiser and more experienced women, and have been able to offer up that wisdom in a modern format to my younger peers. I’m focusing on the female experience as that is what I know, and would love to hear a male version of it as well! 🙂

Many tidbits can be searched on the internet, but there are a few things that only seem to be shared when “the time is right”. These little tidbits mostly pertain to stages in life, and the things that (as a general rule) seem to come with those points.

What has instigated this is a recent development in a younger friend’s life, where she hit her “sexual prime”. for anyone who’s read about a woman’s sexual prime, it’s supposed to happen in her 40’s, so why am I talking about a woman in her early 30’s?

Growing up, I remember older women and men calling it a woman’s biological clock ticking, and then after peak, then after menopause. After going through it, and now having another friend experiencing the same thing, I have to call the world out on it.

From my experience, I found that it hit like a ton a bricks, and I was really easily emotionally stirred one month, and then the next month, it started. I found that I was always thinking about sex. I wanted it ALL THE TIME. And I’m not talking about little quickies, it got to a point where there weren’t enough orgasms, and toys didn’t cut it.

If an attractive man wandered through my life, and we had a little chemistry it would lower my intellect to about a cave woman level, and it was aggressive. I didn’t feel angry, I just wanted to either break stuff or – pardon the foul language – find someone and fuck their genitals off.


So, I like to talk about strange experiences that I go through that I can’t find resources for, and hopefully give some light for all the other people out there that may be looking for answers. I want my next blog to gor through more life milestones that really aren’t talked about in the order that I’ve experienced and also seen others go through.

We don’t like talking about women’s true sexuality, and it’s a shame.. because once I hit that milestone, it was a beautiful and interesting experience for me, and my partner, and it shouldn’t be played down, or made out to be some sort of act of desperation, it’s fun, exciting and well worth embracing and exploring. I only wish there were more resources so it wasn’t so daunting and unexpected.

Until next time,

Have a Happy! 😉



I’ve decided to sell time.

It’s the only thing that people seem to need more of.

Time for sale!!

Zero down payments, and zero monthly payments.. ever.

Side effects include: happiness, personal growth, adventure, hobbies, friends, social acceptance, and opportunities to find love.

So… Now that I’ve sold you a bit of free time, how successful and happy are you? Do you love your lifestyle, or envy someone elses?


Unfortunately people have been programmed to think that the next gadget represents a “lifestyle”, that a new vehicle is the key to adventure – your current car just slogs you back and forth from your crappy job, but if you get this other more new and fancy car, it will propel you to road trips and classy events. This product will increase your attractiveness because you have no confidence and you are lonely regardless whether you are in a relationship or not.


Significant others are as disposable as your seasonal wardrobe, but that’s not why you feel empty and miserable working 60 – 80 hours a weeks paying for the gadgets and car and takeaway crappy tasteless meals for your current s/o , while posting motivational posters on social media to make you feel better about your ever more hollow and uninteresting life.


The above is what we label as middle class “success”. And none of it — with the exception of your spouse… if you are lucky, makes you feel successful.


If you aren’t happy, or fulfilled, you haven’t experienced success.


But some aspects of success were outlined above, and you may not have even noticed them.


You may grumble to yourself during the summer months, looking at the hippies transitioning through your city, and think to yourself, “Effing stinky, lazy hippies…” and you wonder how many drugs they did to seem so happy all the time. I can tell you right now, that drugs have little to do with it.. psychedelics help, but aren’t necessary.


What they have is time. They have more time in a day than you have in a week, and adventure could be as simple as a tea in the park or hacky sack (which is great for fitness and flexibility BTW) with random strangers, or as “out there” as sticking out a thumb and seeing where they end up. They are rich in connections, and are free. You really despise them because they somehow survive, and are really healthy, and have time to be, time to do, and time to share.


Why are they happy and you aren’t? You have the gadgets and the house and all the things you were told you needed to be successful…. You aren’t happy because you don’t have the time to enjoy it… because you have to work so damn hard to pay for the lifestyle that sits at home and collects dust, and don’t have the healthy emotional and intellectual connections to share it with because you don’t have time for that random conversation while drinking your fav bevvy, while rushing off to the next very important thing with people you have nothing in common with.


I just had most of the week off, and well, honestly I could use another month. If I could get paid to do random stuff, I would be doing it tomorrow. Providing I had time at the end of the day to laugh about the strange things that happened, and maybe get my laundry and dishes done.


Maybe what need need to do to make change is immediately take our time back. No more overtime without pay. No more sitting looking at stupid things that have ads that make people rich, no more shopping therapy. Take that time to take care of that person sitting reading this article, you that person that’s feeling guilty that they are doing it on company time…


Your time is more important than theirs. You looking at social media and reddit and blogs is your little rebellion… Just ask your loved ones what is important. Would your kids rather the shiny toy… or time with you, out playing and adventuring through the forest making mud pies and looking for sasquatch. Your spouse (providing you are in a healthy relationship)  would agree that they would rather have nights where you come home and aren’t grumpy, and want to watch some cheesy movie and tickle and play or whatever it is you do to get the mojo working.


Happiness is letting yourself be you, and if you are happy, and your needs are covered with hopefully a little gravy,(meaning exploring interests and hobbies and personal growth) then you are more successful than most of the North American population.


You can be that Hippy without the patchouli, all you need is to take control of your time, because it’s yours and worth more than you realize.

The “C” Word

My Grandmother was a really interesting and dynamic woman. Exceptionally talented and active in our community, wit as quick as a whip and our family matriarch. For a good portion of my youth she lived either next door or relatively close by, so I was lucky to have a healthy and close relationship with her.

But then the “C” word came up. I’m at an age where while I was still young, it was whispered about behind closed doors. Auntie so and so has “Cancer”.

It wasn’t that long ago that it was considered an almost a sure death sentence, and was a major cause of anxiety and grief. But, now with so many medical advancements, we have come to a point where many cancers, provided they are detected early enough, are manageable or better yet, can be reversed into remission indefinitely.

In my early teens something happened, my Mom and Grandma began to act funny and whisper a lot. They were hiding something from my brother and myself. This in itself was frightening and upsetting, as my family has always been open and honest about the goings on in our lives.

And then one day, my mom and I stopped next door to my Grandma’s house, somehow instinctively I knew something was very wrong. Most of the conversation is a blur, but, they sat me down, and told me that Grandma had breast cancer. That terrible “C” word.

There were medical terms and explanations, and questions, and breast removal and all kinds of things that you don’t wish on your worst enemy let alone your Grandma. I know I cried, I cried a lot.

It was a long go of it, but she survived, missing lymph nodes and a breast, but, survived nonetheless. She changed as a person, taking life less for granted and becoming a little less conservative. Remission is expensive time to buy, and for many people it’s worth every painful step.

Five or so years later, I was in my twenties, the “C” word was dropped again for Grandma. Not saying there weren’t other people in our lives that had gotten diagnoses, but Grandma was the closest and most visceral. This time, Colon Cancer. the survival rate at that time, was about twenty percent.

I went into immediate denial with this round. Twenty percent couldn’t be a death sentence, because they didn’t say that it was terminal. It took until just before the surgery that it sunk in that even if Grandma survived the surgery, that the prognosis was bleak.

But, once again, my awesomely cool Grandma fought and survived it. There were complications and infections and ups and downs, but, that magic word came out…

Remission… more time bought. Not without a heavy price.

The stupid thing about youth, is that young people don’t understand the power of time, and especially time with their loved ones. They go off and try to make their lives, and don’t spend the time that they should be. They don’t learn soon enough that time is a thief, and when they figure out what a bastard time is, they learn regret.

Fast forward fifteen years, and through an ultrasound looking at a hernia (from previous surgery) they found something inside Gramma. There were tests, and by this point the family at large knew the routine. The surgeon and oncologist decided to work together the oncologist to inspect and remove the mass for biopsy, and the surgeon to fix the hernia.

After the surgery, I went to the hospital to visit Gramma. The sparkling strong woman that helped rear me, was in rough shape. And her sparkle was greatly diminished. I asked her how she was. She looked at me, and took my hand… and took a deep breath. She told me that it was ovarian cancer, and they took everything out.

More blur. Lots more blur. After the biopsy, we were told it was really aggressive. There was no prognosis, just treatment to buy time. At this point, the rest of my life was falling apart, and it was all I could do to keep the wolves at bay. Those wolves were the minions of time. They stole time from me and time that I could have spent with her.

I did my best, juggling life and living. And we took back what we could, but she couldn’t take the chemo. It almost killed her a couple of times. She refused radiation, it was too spread out. Her philosophy all through was, “It’s not about quantity, it’s about quality.”

With those words, she made the decision to stop treatment. The cancer spread so quickly, that it was less than three months after.

I don’t want to get into the details, but I do want to say this. My Grandma, went on her own terms, she went with dignity, laughter, and love. She was surrounded by all those that she touched in life, and the last time I saw her… the last conversation I had with her I would like to share.

I walked into her room in the hospice, and she was sleeping. Her white hair, curly like a cherub. She was wearing an almost white night gown and her sheets were white. She heard me come in, and stirred awake.

She smiled her amazing smile, and whispered, “Hi!”

I whispered back, “Gramma, you look like an Angel”

Her eyes sparkled, “Thank you…”

“How about I let you go back to sleep?”

She replied with “Yes please…. Love you..” with that smile and her green eyes sparkling.

“Love you too Gramma”

At the funeral I refused to look at the body. I didn’t want to ruin my last moment with her.

She was 77 years old, and lived life until the end.

I realized this morning that through all that, there were so many lessons learned, and gifts given.. some of which haven’t been opened yet.