Is it hot in here, or is it just me?
When did I become Jack-Jack? I don’t know. Pretty recently. At first I thought it was because I’d had a lot of salt. Then I thought it was the alcohol. Or, maybe I needed to take a run. But, after a week or so of this affliction, it hit me: I am Jack-Jack.
Don’t get me wrong, I love a good sweat. Show me a sauna and I am in it. Sweat cures all sorts of evils. Leads to all sorts of pleasure. A “healthy glow” is just a bit o’ sweat. “Dewy” is, too. “Glistening,” slightly sweaty. Rosy cheeked, flushed, gleaming, shimmering. All have a damp quality to them.
But, this is not that.
What I have started to experience at night is kind of like being doused in gasoline and lit with a match. A sudden, violent heat. A freight train on fire. Jack-Jack the baby from the incredibles. Funny that when I saw the movie way back in my “dewy, healthy glow” time of life I thought the baby Jack Jack’s super powers were so funny, and useful!
But as I sit here feeling the pre-heated-to-450-oven-heat exploding from my forehead, blowing my hair upwards, emanating from my clavicles up my neck, to my chin, rolling over my jaw bone and full tongue licking my cheeks with red, I can say turning to fire is not that neat.
I mean, first of all, what the f#ck? Out of the blue I go from being a normal person (of sorts) to a science experiment. How has this been a thing women are forced to go through for some many millennia? Not everyone experiences the sweats, but for those of us that do, someone owes us an apology for god’s sake.
I’ve done some reading about the big M…menopause. I can’t say there is much written that is surprising (but plenty that’s helpful). This is yet another reason why I want to hear what other people are experiencing. (There are some good comments to learn from below form last week).
And Men out there! You also have a point of view. If your little lady has turned into a flamethrower, let's hear about it…anonymously. It’s still a personal subject, of course. You can send stories to me and I can erase emails.
As if women weren’t mystical (witch) enough to men from a physical (and mental) standpoint. We bleed every month and survive (witch). We create people and carry them around inside of us (witch). We can actually feed them too (double witch). It’s kind of like being a superhero. Isn’t it? But, without the fanfare or cape. Does Wonder Woman really need special powers? Aren’t her natural gifts impressive enough?
We went to see a comedian last week named Maria Bamford. I love standup. It’s so weird and brave. Maria is unbelievably brilliant and brilliantly nuts. She conveys an understanding of insanity to the point of discomfort for audience members. She’s like setting a wild animal on stage and you’re not sure what she might do. You hope she will land on all fours but she doesn’t always. She flips between characters she’s created based on her own experiences.
But just when you think she’s sailed off the edge, she shifts into what you like to think is really “her” with a level, Midwestern accent speaking with great insight and intelligence. A few times she seemed to break character when an over served woman kept asking questions and breaking her rhythm. Maria was used to that. She is a total pro, beloved by the comedy world Link.
Seeing Maria Bamford at the Colonial Theater in Bethlehem, NH has confirmed my latest plan: Go see more stand up, regularly.
Here is a treat! It’s cute…and telling:) Thank you, Djamila for sending…
That’s all for now! Want to help me get the online community off the ground? Lemme know! firstname.lastname@example.org
Whether you like the Royals or not, QE2 was an incredible woman. Rest In Peace.
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© 2022 Kim Druker Stockwell