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Cougar madness.


Beautiful Readers,

Last post was a big moan-fest about trivial details in my life getting me down, and today I share with you my beef of the week. This blog has recently become the place for whining. Regrets. But it’s too late now. I promise I’ll knock it off soon. Next week maybe.

Cougars. Has anyone heard this term? Has anyone had the pleasure of not hearing it? Here is the definition of Cougar in the Urban Dictionary (an awesome source of info, by the way, if you want to know what people hipper (or younger) than you are talking about around you) Essentially, if you don’t feel like following the link, a cougar,as I understand it, is a woman (not a man, mind you) in their 30s and 40s (screw the 50s–that would be waaaaaaay to old to even joke about) who, generally, looks distressingly hot, and dare I say, still wants to get laid. The horror of it all. And sometimes this threatening individual wants to sleep with a man who is younger than they are. A babe in the woods. Someone with all their hair.

Now imagine some wiley 40 something woman, wearing lipstick even maybe, just for the purposes of attracting a man the tender age of 30. Someone should clearly call the man’s parents and tell them that he is in danger. Actually no, someone should give every single person who thinks this is odd or even noteworthy a great big wedgie and tell them to get a life.

No doubt I should be less bitter. Nonsense. Every single woman who is approaching these ages or is among these ages or past these ages should be morebitter. Every man who actually respects any of these women should be outraged by this nonsense as well. Since when is mocking a group of any particular age or type, or publicly judging any kind of a relationship acceptable among smart people? Stuff’s getting better right? I’m seeing tv now that actually portrays women older than me, and they have decent lines, and strong opinions. Thank God. It was bound to happen eventually. I have happily presumed that this was the reflection of increased maturity within the tv industry, and likely more say on the part of female producers.

But then, we have this sh*t. What is this? Why is this clear contempt (and willing lack of self-respect on the part of the women who find this kind of obviously insulting pigeon-holing kind of cute) becoming mainstream? Talk to me people, because I really do not understand it, and I want to. How did the cougar character which is obviously a testimony to nothing more than good old fashioned fear of female sexuality get to be so damn popular? Yikes.

That’s it on this subject for me today. Seriously, I am so disappointed and surprised and hurt frankly, that the rest is all just swearing and muttering.  And just so you know, in case you were wondering, while the age of the cougar is the same as mine (41 years), and I do indeed like to have sex from  time to time, and would also feel free to love whomever I choose, I do not feel that I am in any danger of being called this or mistaken for this profile. I have a certain book-ish waspy look that makes me almost immune to this kind of teasing, and I seem to have an ongoing romantic life that prevents having to go out looking for sex. But what if it were different? How many women in that sometimes vulnerable stage of life, perhaps after years of unhappy marriage, and looking for a partner again, must now bear the additional burden of thinking “am I a cougar?” “Do I look like a cougar?” “Is this a cougar dress?” What bullshit. As if just having to pay for sixteen dollar drinks at a bar wasn’t enough annoyance.

I would have been rightfully upset about this several decades ago. Why? Because I love people. And I do not like to see them maligned when they have done nothing wrong.

Thanks for reading,

Alix Florio        President; Beautiful Fitness



Beautiful Readers,

Forgive my language. And please prepare to forgive my whining. I really do try not to do it very often. In fact I’m famously Jiminey Cricket about everything which annoys the cynics (who generally prefer to be called “realists”) in my life no end. Well, cynics, today is your day.

These last few weeks have been the pits. Too much work (WAAAY to much), too late nights, too much push back from the kids, too little down time, not enough of a certain thing that I like very very much, too many nagging little pointless seeming projects, too much time moving things from purse to purse, too often finding that something got left behind in the purse I used last, too little time at the gym, and not nearly enough reward. Ratsum fratsum.

Seth Godin (who I really think it a genius, though, apparently, he thinks he is one too, from what I’ve been told), wrote a book called The Dip, it’s a business book, so it doesn’t address all the personal stuff I feel like complaining about, but, essentially it says that the real winners in life are the ones who stick it out through the serious suckage. The dip he describes is that period that everyone has been through where it seems like you’re just treading water–like maybe shark infested water, and all that splashing around doesn’t seem to be doing much besides tiring you out–and maybe attracting more sharks. That’s the dip.

So my dip has been going on for a couple of weeks now. And it is certainly worse because of my recently bad attitude about it.  But in a certain way that feels wonderfully self-indulgent like eating Kentucky Fried Chicken, with a biscuit and fries, while drinking Pepsi (Ok, I don’t eat any of that stuff–but my bf self-medicates in this way occasionally) having a little Bitch-and-Moan here with you all about it is nice.

Here’s the kind of thing I’m talking about—right now, as I write, my bf is on the phone with Kinkos on my behalf talking to someone there for the 6th time about getting a banner printed. We need it today. It’s 5pm, they close at 9, but the Botanical Garden which we had planned to visit on a rare day sans kids while no one is officially working, closes in an hour. We’re not going. The banner at Kinkos has been fuzzy since 11am and we can’t figure out why. Why aren’t we having a proper designer do this? Because it seemed easy enough and we thought we could do it. Also, I have been so busy lately, I only just realized today that it would be good to have one. And now ’banner fuzziness’ instead of ‘beautiful cherry blossoms’ has been the theme of the entire %*&^((#$ day. We’re at the point where we’d love to quit because it looks like this may never work out for us before Kinkos closes, but yet, it has seemed all day like we’re so very close. Grrrr….

I know this is not what blogs are for. They are not for catharsis. They are not for whining about personal things. They are not for talking about your bf, or gf or bff or anything like that. But after dispensing so much high falutin’ wisdom and well-meant advice (which, no doubt I’ll be doing again shortly) about how to live your life to the fullest and what to do when your having a bad time of it—I thought I should share a little behind-the-scenes look at  my own rare but occasional inability to pull all my good advice together and lighten up. Yes, I meditate, and yes, I work out regularly, and I also drink green tea, eat healthy and prioritize sleep. But sometimes that stuff just isn’t enough to drag me out of burn-out, and then I enjoy a big ole’ Bitch-and-Moan like this one, and maybe have a good old fashioned cry, and that ususally seems to work.

So if meditating and tofu, downward dog, and Crane pose, don’t always make you feel that you are living a charmed life, don’t worry. That’s cool too. You aren’t the Dali Lama afterall (though, God Knows, maybe he eats an entire pint of Haagen Daaz with a plastic spoon in front of the TV sometimes too) There’s a reason that even in the most enligtened corners of the world people still crawl underneath blankets, complain about their lot in life, and cry.

Oh yeah–and come check Beautiful Fitness out at what should be an exciting event called GetFit   tomorrow, Sunday April 18th from 10am – 6pm at the Adidas Store on Broadway and Houston. You probably won’t get to see me weeping, but you will get to see me speaking at 2:45 on Adding Chaos to your Fitness Plan and shaking hands with attendees at our booth all day! And if you look at our table you’ll get to find out whether or not the banner ever got made! Come on down!


Alix Florio      President; Beautiful Fitness