Dita Parker

Friday, November 30, 2012

Safe from harm

It's World AIDS Day, so you know what I'm going to say, don't you...?    If you can't be good, do be careful, sweetie darlings!

P.S. And I pressed the wrong button. It's tomorrow, December 1. Oh well. Forewarned is forearmed!

Monday, November 19, 2012

Typical male

Mantastic Monday, dearest denizens! Today, as promised, I'm a guest on Cassandra Carr's blog with a post on something we all love dearly: men. So. Is there such a thing as a typical male? You tell me, but some things make me go hmmm... Hope to see you there!

Friday, November 16, 2012

Memories of the future

Morning, sweetie darlings. It's November 16 and as you allll remember, right, wink wink hint hint, I'm a guest on Desiree Holt's blog with a post so hot, Blogger decided to censor it a bit and post it in magic ink. (You have to paint over it to be able to read it. Or is it just me, can you tell me? I did try every browser in the house and it still looks odd. Yes, I alerted Desiree, but until America wakes up, not much can be done about it. Off painting you go!)

On Monday, I'm stopping by Cassandra Carr's blog and talking men, and next Friday (the 23rd) it's Dita day once again at 69 Shades. You might want to start sharpening those elbows. Since it is Black Friday and X-mas is a mere month away, I thought we'd go XXX-mas shopping.

Sexcellent weekend, dearest denizens! If you can't be good, be careful.

Friday, November 9, 2012

What's going on

I love our modern times, I really do. But I sometimes feel as if something got severed on the way from the Enlightenment to today, some important connection between body and mind. For all the talk on holistic approaches to health, the body is still the seat of all that is base. Something to be feared, something to be mastered. Controlled. Think of the double standards applied to gender and sexuality. Or think of popular culture. Genres that evoke a physical response instead of an intellectual one (horror, comedy, romance...) have never been valued, awarded or applauded, not like their cerebral sisters and brothers.

And food and eating, OMG, sweetie darlings. It's not a pleasure, is it, it's a project to be tackled calculator in hand and monitor on wrist. Where's the joy? The enjoyment? I know people, most of them are women, sorry but yeah, who look at every bite as if it was trying to kill them. They look at every bite others have as bombs about to be digested, voluntarily, and they look at the individual about to die of living with pity. 

I look at those people, want to shake them, scream, "Snap out of it!" I think of those who have no food. Those so sick they can't eat even if they wanted to. How does all that guilt, all the shame and shaming associated with eating put food on their table or tummies? But it's not about them, is it? It's about you, the one thing, possibly the only thing, you can control in these uncertain times of ours. Which is just another illusion, isn't it?

I take care of my body to ensure, as far as you can anyway, it takes care of me, keeps me going. I know it pretty well, how it functions, its demands. We've been getting close and better acquainted through sickness and health, through sports and pregnancies, and sensual pleasures such as eating and sex. Right now, I know something is wrong. I just don't know what it is yet. Hence the radio silence. (Yeah, I'm usually a motormouth, aren't I, hard to get a word in. Tsk.) 

I will blog as scheduled on 69 Shades plus the guest appearances I've already booked, and leave a note here when I feel the force is with me. I'm not going to talk about it on Facebook, I'm not going to Tweet my medical record. (And I'm not judging. If it's something you do and find helpful, to you and perhaps others, write away!) I'll be out and about if and when I can, but what I really need to do right now is take care of myself while trying not to scare the wee ones. They're already a bit freaked out seeing Mom unwell and she can't explain why.

Here's hoping the something turns out to be nothing. In the meantime, go hang out with your favorite artists and authors, your family and friends. And be good to yourself! Listen to some music. Dance. Watch something that evokes every emotion ever felt. Laugh, cry, cringe. Feel it. Really feel it, without shame. Cook something from scratch. Eat without guilt. Take a long walk in a new direction. Enjoy the sensual world. I know life sometimes feels so senseless, and maybe it has no meaning, no one thing true and applicable to all, but you can always try to make yours a meaningful one. Do you understand what I'm getting on about, what I'm trying to say? It's all right, dearest denizens. I still love you. See you around,

Smooches, D.

Monday, November 5, 2012

Street fighting man

V: It is to Madame Justice that I dedicate this concerto.

Evey Hammond: [voiceover] I've witnessed first hand the power of ideas. I've seen people kill in the name of them, and die defending them. But you cannot kiss an idea, cannot touch it, or hold it. Ideas do not bleed, they do not feel pain, they do not love. And it is not an idea that I miss, it is a man... A man that made me remember the Fifth of November. A man that I will never forget.

It's Guy Fawkes', dearest denizens. You know what that means, don't you? It's V for Vendetta night at Casa Dita. Sadly, hubby is working tonight. Will you watch it with me?