beauty – Page 8 – Hopeful Romantics

Doing the Laundry on Saturday Night

I live in a high rise. As with most things, there are pluses and minuses to living in a high rise. The best part of living in a high rise is the views. And then there are the conveniences. There are cleaners in the building, markets adjacent. Makes life easier in some ways.

You develop a sense of living in a community in a high rise. That’s often an asset. But just as often when you have noisy or lousy neighbors, the community seems more like a tenement than a high rise. Then there are the party sessions and the neighbors who act like they just wandered in from a cave just a few short weeks before.

But one thing about life in a high rise and for that matter any building where the laundry room in centralized and accessible to all. You get to see who is doing their laundry on Saturday night. Surely, there are older folk, or middle aged couples who between showings on the pay per view race up and down the elevator to get in a load or two. But then there are the singles. You see very few younger couples doing the laundry together on Saturday night. Just singles. Single men. For sure. And a lot of single women.

Perhaps there is no better indicator that life ain’t exactly rich with romance than someone doing their laundry on a Saturday night. The only other indicator that life is a drag is eating alone, table for one on Saturday night. It means the networking efforts have failed, the online dating sites have yielded nada, and the fix up-blind date schemes and situations have resulted in disillusionment. So here you sit. Doing the laundry on Saturday night. Could be the title of a country song.
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I guess the one advantage of doing the laundry on Saturday night is you don’t have to look your best. Slop around in those sweats and tee shirts that should have been thrown out when the Chicago Cubs last won the pennant. And oh those pink acrylic fluffy slippers. Ironically, perhaps, it is not just the homely sort who stuff the washers and dryers on Saturday night. There are attractive men and women, sitting on those molded plastic chairs. Now some women may not be what you call socially adroit, and some of the men may be geeky enough, so inundated with that lonely guy thing, that finding romance may have washed out of their hopes like a rip tide from Hurricane Ike.

There is something to be said for the fact that the laundry doers being seen doing their laundry on Saturday night. Maybe they don’t realize that people take notice. Or more than likely they don’t really care anymore. They are lonely and miserable, and your sneers or pity won’t change the fact they can’t find a date, and dates cannot find them. What’s really odd, is upon observation, they don’t seem to talk to each other. You would think they would somehow form a lonely impromptu and random laundry club on Saturday Night. Exchange numbers, swap spit. Do something. Or at least talk with each other, down in the laundry room. I guess they don’t want to admit to another human that life has left them wanting.

And because of the funky outfits, the matted and unwashed hair and probable bad breath, the laundry on Saturday night crowd is not even a prospect for the other lonely people wandering in from the movies, bars and restaurants, empty handed. In a perfect world the laundry room could be the post-closing time episode, the salvation in desperation, where those wandering or staggering in from the parking lot could pick up on something that looks like Gilda Radner, as the Vick’s Vapo Rub-coated Lisa Lubner, in an old Saturday Night Live sketch. Maybe smelly and gnarly, but, hey, it’s a heartbeat.

But I guess sometimes the world is a cruel place, and people have to fend for themselves in withstanding the harshness. Where the rewards are meager, at best. Where those that come home alone from bars are burdened only with a liquor tab. And those compelled to do the laundry on Saturday Night never suffer from a shortage of quarters.

Botox is Showing More Wrinkles

According to BreitBart the European the European Medicines Agency had by August, 2007 recorded more than 600 negative effects that were attributable to Botox. This poses yet another wrinkle in the emerging Botox controversy where there are claims injections can result in harmful side effects, including death. This could mean that Botox injections have longer lasting effects beyond the predictable four to six months. While longer lasting effects mean you can get more bang for your buck, these are not necessarily the effects women desire.

Botulinum Toxin is at its cores a natural poison found in decomposing food that is a mere forty million times stronger than cyanide. Of course the poison is injected in very tiny doses and until a relatively short time ago it was considered harmless. Which is pretty amazing to start with. But for awhile there has been increased evidence including the mere suspicion it seeps into the brain stem. Perhaps for those that undergo frequent injections the loss of their brain stems is not nearly as big an issue as their youth.

Besides, when you stop to think about all the other dangerous stuff we put into or on top of our systems, Botox may offer less to worry about than others. We use cancer causing phtalates on a pretty regular basis, along with the asorted parabens and other chemicals that are red flagged on many environmental lists.

Not to be the caped crusader here, I’m not. But at the end of the day you have to wonder if a few wrinkles are worth injections of poison. I don’t know, really. People can make up their minds for themselves. They will, anyway. Even if it is banned, someone will make it, and women and men will use it.
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So we enter a hyper competive world where beauty at all costs is the weapon against aging. Aging is the enemy. Again creates disappointment, disillusion and betrays our idea of the viable candidate for dating, sex, and romance. In fact, the authorities could tell you flat out that Botox will kill you, and I remain assured that people will still use it. It’s not that nobody wants to live forever. It’s more that people believe they will never get sick and die.

The thing is we were born to lose. We lose our looks, our hair, our performance, and even our mind. The only thing that is tougher to lose when you are older is weight. But everything else, you lose it. You get old, you get sick. And you die. But with Botox, you never know, it could happen sooner than later. Or it may not happen at all and all those upsetting wrinkles will vanish under the needle.

And if you do die a little earlier, at your friends can look down into your coffin and remark, “Doesn’t she look good?” Who know? Maybe it was worth it for that.

The Big Easy…Sex Once a Week

A recent article in the Los Angeles Times’ Health Section, entitled Use It Or Lose It, told us what we all pretty much sensed already. If you have sex on a continual basis then your sex organs will perform better than if you you don’t. This report is especially true with…ahem…older men. It was fond that those who had sex once a week had less problems with Erectile Dysfunction, or ED, as they like to say in all the TV commercials, than those poor souls who didn’t.

Now the survey stated that the men were asked about sexual intercourse and not about all the other sex variations that tend to make men happy. Masturbation was not part of the questionnaire. Apparently there is a relationship to visual and tactile stimulation and response rates. In other words, as women have suggested for centuries, that is the one organ outside the brain that does its own thinking. That said, muscle memory apparently plays a large role in readiness.

While I can think of a a few men who have been involuntarily celibate for so long the associated stimulus is all but a vague memory, I refer to the other men who work out regularly and have sex regularly and seem to have no problem with either. If, as the article suggests, oxygen plays a large role in muscle response. the more the muscles are oxygenated, the more responsive they are. Taking it one step further, since oxygen is combustible it would only stand to reason it would fan the flames of desire.

We Find Out More viagra ordination have an array of medications for allergies, arthritis, asthma, diabetics and cancer. Has anyone warned you that cycling could make you impotent? Excessive cycling can lead to numbness and pain around the perineum because of the pressure created. cheap viagra prices This abacojet.com generic levitra only leads to further depression and in some cases even suicide. The inability of males to have an free sample of viagra erection hard enough to start pleaser game of sex and desire and keep an erection when they become sexually stimulated. Since protein is important in muscular development, along with oxygen, I guess your mother was right. Drink your milk and have sex often. Okay, so maybe your mother didn’t say that. She should have, probably, if she really cared about your health. Either way, I wouldn’t ask her.

All right, so what besides the usual dry survey does this article offer? Well, it offers ammunition of course. Men will readily point out the benefits of frequent sex to their significant or even their insignificant others. Savvy men will soon be telling their dates they have to have sex because they need it for your health. Maybe it’s wise not to press it on the first date, but then again some well. Men are pigs, after all.

If the relationship endures, beyond the early discomforts, men will point point out the virtues of sex will help keep the more meaningful part their relationship…well…meaninful. They will argue that when the years pass and they are faced with that precarious period when they are finding men their age appearing on Viagra ads, and she has arrived at her sexual peak, they will still be able to perform. All thanks to regular and frequent sex.

But then there is the reality. Nature loves to play practical jokes on us all. She will be at her sexual peak, and he, for the most part, will be well past it. She will be the one reminding him about the importance of having sex a week, and he will be reminding her to turn out the lights when she finished talking. Therein, as the bard would say, lies the rub. Perhaps the only thing hard in one’s golden years is actually having sex on a regular basis.

We Were Here…The Human Need for Recognition

There was a story released the last couple of days about how archaeologists stumbled upon an ancient cemetery in the Sahara Desert. This Stone Age graveyard sheds light on the great mystery when the great Sahara desert was lush and green, when civilizations dwelled on the edges of it waters. One such article was in the Los Angeles Times.

Yes, the Sahara was underwater. And green. The Waters came during monsoon season, especially. There among the bodies were tools, fishing gear, harpoons and other stuff to reveal the once verdant Sahara. There were the remains of 6-foot-long, 300 pound Nile Perch. So with fish that large and people on the edge of the waters, you would have to assume the reality of Lakeside property. Whether the property was divided into sub-tracts and McMansions will remain one of the desert mysteries.

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What is remarkable of evidence not just of a civilization, but people’s eternal and inherent need for recognition. We as humans strive for recognition. Be it fabulous monuments, cave paintings or even graffiti on the side of a bridge, we must find acknowledgment that once upon a time we existed. It’s pretty remarkable really. It is our way of attempting to deal with our finite selves in relation to an infinite universe. We were here.

Whether it matters in the long run become an entirely different issue. Schools of thought debate it and will continue to debate what largely amounts to the meaning of existence as long as we truly are on the planet. It is a heated debate in certain sectors and regardless of the mythical final conclusion, it is one worth having. But here as throughout all human history, we find the markers of our existence and in this case the identifiers of humanity. A mother with hands entwined with her two children tells us not only that they existed, but they cared about each other. There was life and there was love.