This Week in Its Briefs - Tighty Whities

1. I’ve been hit quite hard with a case of the mid-May doldrums, evinced by my inability to write about anything interesting. Also, the advent of True Spring has been most distracting, what with its insistence on gentle breezes, fancy sunshine, and leafy greenery.

2. But hey, I bought new underwear this week. Alert the media.

3. As is my custom, good weather combined with writing doldrums gets me antsy to clear clutter away from my life. Hello, Guest Room – when last we saw each other, not too many months ago, you were in pretty good shape from the last sprucing up session and we could actually use you to house random guests. Sadly, your once semi-pristine condition has deteriorated yet again and you’ve become the final resting place or merely a convenient harbor for various household flora and fauna. It’s like the Well of Lost Souls in here or something - let’s try again, shall we? I’m up for a scrub if you are. I'll mix a batch of martinis if you bring the garbage bags.

4. A couple of years ago I was rabidly devoted to daily yoga practice. It was highly beneficial for me physically by keeping me bendy (I’ve heard this is much harder for tall people as they age; I don’t know if that is true but anecdotally I’ll go along with it). I also reaped many benefits from the spiritual aspects of practice, which was unexpected yet rather welcome. I don't think I was more mellow but I did feel better, even about things that would normally either send me into a red rage or blue funk.

I was quite fervent about it, and then, for some unremembered reason, I stopped daily practice. Well, I’ve now started up again and while I’m experiencing a certain amount of “muscle memory” my body is reacting as if it is a series of straight unyielding planks of wood joined with a combination of barbed wire and rusty paper clips. I know from past experience that I will improve greatly with a minimum of two weeks of solid daily practice, but Oy - the creakiness, people!

5. I purposely didn’t write or even comment about a recent study published by the CDC and cited in an egregiously jerky Washington Post article: Gulp - Forever Pregnant?

If you can't bear to click on the link (hey, look Ma - I figured out about links, only about 1,000 years after html was invented!) the article cites a CDC study about women's health, but wreathes the subject in concern only about their health as baby vehicles, exorting all women of child-bearing age to make all of their lifestyle choices as if they were in a constant state of “pre-pregnancy”. (Pardon me while I mop up the pieces of my exploding brain).

I’ve ranted enough about women being viewed as nothing more important or valuable than walking baby machines to satisfy both myself and my wee group of readers for probably the next decade, so I won’t waste any more valuable martini time on that subject. Only those of us with non-viable reproductive organs are invited for Martini Time. (Note to self: ending on a childish note of "neener-neener" is curiously satisfying.)