Category Archives: Musings

For the love of women, from a sugar frosted nutsack (a book review)

One of my favorite authors is Mark Leyner. I have described him as the postmodern reasonable facsimile of Umberto Eco’s doppelganger… at least I do so to people with whom I care to discuss authors of impact without fear of judgement (someday  you should let me tell you about that time I was found wanting for my love of YA literature).

I am reading,  listening  read his novel about the gods, because I love novels about the gods. For the seriously important information about this book:

The Sugar Frosted Nutsack: A Novel
by Mark Leyner
Link:   (prices vary)

Get it? 

The throws of love seem to predominate any tales about the gods (I am looking at Neil Gaiman here, American gods was also a fucking awesome listen if you find the full cast audio version).

The Sugar Frosted Nutsack is a snarky and often hilarious look at modern culture, with some sweet gentleness mixed in. It is past absurd love-story that involves scenes reminiscent of Alice in wonderland (a human becomes 50 ft tall) and part pornographic romp (a plethora of dildos of an amazing variety are involved).  I have missed Leyners’ work, but decided that he was absent for about 15 years because the world needed to catch up in terms of interestingness.

You know I loved the audio-book when I purchase the actual one. Can’t wait for it to arrive.

Anywhosiwhatsit –

What stopped me in my tracks though, was a section where the character, Ike, plagiarizes this gem below which I am reproducing in an homage, if you will, to the story – but in actuality because I want  “Ninety-seven percent of people think it was SUPER-SEXY of…”


Ike to totally plagiarize that from O, The Oprah Magazine.”

1. Even little girls, in all their blithe, unharrowed innocence, have a presentiment of sorrow, hardship, and adversity…of loss. Women, throughout their lives, have an intrinsic and profound understanding of Keats’ sentiments about “Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips Bidding adieu.”

2. This sage knowledge of, and ability to abide, the inherently fugitive nature of happiness somehow accounts for the extraordinary beauty of women as they age.

3. Women have an astonishing capacity to maintain their equilibrium in the face of life’s mutability, its unceasing and unforeseeable vicissitudes. And this agility is always in stark and frequently comical contradistinction to men’s naïvely bullish and brittle delusions that things can forever remain exactly the same.

4. Women are forgiving but implacably cognizant.

5. Women are almost never gullible but sometimes relax their vigilance out of loneliness. (And I believe most women abhor loneliness.)

6. In their most casual, offhand, sisterly moments, women are capable of discussing sex in such uninhibited detail that it would cause a horde of carousing Cossacks to cringe.

7. Women are, for all intents and purposes, indomitable. It really requires an almost unimaginable confluence of crushing, cataclysmic forces to vanquish a woman.

8. Women’s instincts for self-preservation and survival can seem to men to be inscrutably unsentimental and sometimes cruel.

9. Women have a very specific kind of courage that enables them to fling themselves into the open sea—whether it’s a new life for themselves, another person’s life, or even what might appear to be a kind of madness.

10. Women never—no matter how old they are—completely relinquish their aristocratic assumption of seductiveness.

And here is one last thing I know—and I know this with a certitude that exceeds anything I’ve said before: that men’s final thoughts in their waking days and in their lives are of women…ardent, wistful thoughts of wives and lovers and daughters and mothers.


And because of this.

I give you this:



Dear Texas

Dear Texas,

I was raised to be gentle but I am at the point where I just have to say something. So, I am choosing this platform where I only officially call out one person, and I call her out because her doing this seems so out of line with what her work is.

Your state pride borders on being a cult. When even Dr. Brene Brown will wax poetic and extol its virtues as some sort of sacred space (near the end of her book Rising Strong) as compared to others, in her case it was about its “women”, I think we have  a problem.  Actually, I hear this so much from my Texas friends, I think my eyes my roll right out of my head sometime soon.

There is not something magical in your water, the women are not better, smarter, better cooks, better looking, resilient… these kinds of women are from all over the world… I might even venture to say that the women who were born into poverty in a third world might be more resilient than “ya’ll” are.

I so really roll my eyes. I am a proud descendant of a long line of women that I know had to suffer through things like famine, war, loss, pain, drought… and I know they are no more special than any of you. Our ancestors fought similar battles.  You know, we are all our own people, it doesn’t matter where we were born, what was happening, who was there, who settled it, or even when it was… everyone on this planet is trying the best they can. Ya’ll talk real loud sometimes.

sometimes it feels like it, not that funny

P.S. I make a mean pecan pie and sheet cake, but that shit is unhealthy to eat too often.

my marble jar inventory – 131/366

I have been very clear that I am struggling with some things. Those things seem to be centered on trust and so I am sharing some pieces of knowledge gained or work done while taking this class.

Do you have people in your life that you would consider marble jar friends? If so, who are they? If not, are these the kind of relationships that you’d like to cultivate? Why or why not?

Yes. People who I am comfortable seeing me as vulnerable. People who in the face of that are ready to help. People who don’t gossip as a main means of communication. People who celebrate victories.People who want to spend time with me.

How do the people in your life earn their marbles, or earn the right to hear your story? Identify specific behaviors.

They enjoy my company. They protect me when I am vulnerable. They don’t use me as an excuse or throw me under the bus. They support me when I am down. They include me. They mourn with me. They think of me and let me know it. Small sacrifices. They celebrate rather than ridicule. They recognize that being human is hard and so people should be gentle.

What does it mean to you to be a marble jar friend?

To be thoughtful. To be inclusive. To not be exclusive. To love in spite of flaws. To take care of people, be there for them. Help in times of difficulty, to be willing to listen. To support. To be vulnerable with them.

How about you?

By the way, take the class, there is so interesting guidance on trust and the best of all is that it is free!

The prompt for today is: What is my favorite dish to prepare. I love to make jams! There is something about the pops from a sealed jar that makes me so very happy, it is therapeutic.

the sun will come out, tomorrow 16/365

tomorrow will be better because…. it is a new day.

I will wake up after a dinner out with friends, where I get to taste a sushi roll named after my friend. I will wake up knowing I get to go to dinner with another set of friends, the kind you consider family.

I will wake up knowing I am alive, and happy… knowing that I can celebrate my world which is filled with things I consider gorgeous and beautiful.

(from here)

Dat’s done get done. 8/365


What did I get done? The prompt asks that, as it stares at me, from the screen shot on my phone like a duck-faced selfie ready to be giggled at like a twelve-year-old boy.

This is a crazy question.

I woke up today. I woke up feeling like crap.
I thought about calling in sick, then realized I had to take my son to school and just how much is on my personal schedule today.  Decided to take it slow, son and I could be late.  I worked on a grant, watched/listened to The Great Gatsby (audio-book during my solo commute, movie while I worked on the grant).

My day is not over yet. I have a logic model to finish, an event to attend, a child to pick up, some night-time cough and cold medicine to take and a bed to get in to. I think I will manage to finish this up, and thankfully tomorrow is another day!

(from here)

Whats for dinner 7/365

It is supposed to be about what I had for dinner, but that has not happened yet today… but, I do know what I will be having.


From this site.

Though I call it cochinita pibil.

I also pickled some onions.

from this page.

I did not really follow either recipe. I made the pork in a crock pot, because I thought it would make the house  smell awesome.  It did! I also improvised an achiote paste – and yes, I keep achiote in my pantry. I also used a blood orange.  Because of the slow-cooker and the improvised achiote paste, the meat is not as orange-brown as is traditional, but it tastes wonderful!

(from here)