The Girlfriend Mom Speaking at The NotMom Summit



THE NOT MOM SUMMIT is the first major conference for and about women without children, by choice, or by chance. Friday and Saturday, October 9 & 10, 2015 – Cleveland, OH, and The Girlfriend Mom is on the bill.

Founding Voice and Executive Editor, Karen Malone Wright, introduced me to a whole new group of women on her site, and I am honored to be speaking at her summit.

This is what Karen had to say about me.

“I’d never thought about NotMom Moms until I met Dani Alpert last year at a conference. She’s the woman behind TheGirlfriendMom blog. Its title tells her story: Dani was decidedly childfree by choice when she fell in love. Now, she says, she’s in a committed relationship and living with a divorced father of two.

A professional comedian, Dani instantly saw the humor in her situation and turned it into what’s now a very popular website. Everything, however, was decidedly not funny, especially in the beginning. She wrote about those early days:

“’This wasn’t the life I wanted.’ I repeated this daily. I had uprooted myself from all that I knew, to begin a life I knew nothing about. I looked for appreciation and acknowledgement from my boyfriend, for the sacrifices that I had made. I resented him for not having to make any compromises. I was lost, living outside of my comfort zone and not entirely sure that I had made the right decision.”

It’s an interesting coincidence that both Dani and Kim make others laugh for a living. They each have loads of love for the kids they’ve found themselves parenting, but without finding some laughter, too, things might not have worked out so well.”

Things have changed since then but I’m proud to be on the panel and speaking about my life as The Girlfriend Mom.

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Read more about the Summit.

Straddle The Pole Like A Master

Straddle The Pole Like A Master


In her autobiography, Good Morning, I’m Joan Lunden, Joan writes, “4:30am comes around very early.” I couldn’t agree with her more.

I was up at the butt crack of dawn, for I was about to compete in my first Pole fitness event. Go big or get off the pole, I say.

I rode my bicycle to the theater, as a feint drizzle fell onto the city streets, and onto my flat ironed hair. I wondered if rain was good luck on competition days like it is on wedding days.


I started pole fitness at Body & Pole a year ago. Straddling a 45mm chrome pole agreed with me. The world outside, with its stresses and noise, disappeared and my focus was on squeezing the bejesus out of a pole without falling on my head.

My inner thighs were bruised, my knees looked like I’d been whacked by the mob, the tops of my feet were scratched and I was in love.

My romantic relationship had ended and I trotted out my ‘things I must do’ list, which included activities that I’d been meaning to explore but hadn’t. Why does it take a dramatical life shift before we visit that list? Why do we set aside the potential joy?

When I was learning how to climb, it was impossible for me. I’d get frustrated and I couldn’t wait for the class to end. I shrugged it off, murmuring, “I don’t need this.”

Often, such challenges had me quitting if things got too tough; a dance move, a sport, a math problem. I wanted the first draft to be the final draft and I wanted to climb to the top of the pole on my first try.

As a Pilates instructor, do I tell my clients struggling with a particular exercise that they suck and that they should quit and try Yoga? No. No, I don’t. Then why expect that from myself? It’s called work, and practice, and then more work and more practice.

When I learned that there was a pole competition that had an over 40 category, called Masters, I knew that this would be the perfect way to break some old habits.


While I waited in line to check in, I nervously watched women, wearing leg warmers, (and not much else) stretch, kick, bend and twist, as they warmed up. Am I really going to dance on a pole, half naked, on stage, in front of strangers?

I ran my routine, humming the music in my head, and when I finished, I went to the end of the line. I was growing increasingly nervous, and anxious. I wanted to bolt.

I told myself that it was okay if I didn’t run it a second time. Then, if I did poorly, I could tell myself that it was because I didn’t have enough practice time. What kind of crack ass lame logic was that? And who exactly would I be hurting?

But this was the year of doing the opposite of what I might have done in the past. I waited in line and took another spin. Why, oh, why, wouldn’t I do whatever it took to ensure the best possible performance? Hey Jung, you’re needed backstage.

I was putting too much pressure on myself. I had to remember that Pole wasn’t a career move, as sad and as disappointing as that was. Oh, sweet lost potential. Doing something for the pure joy of it had to be enough. I think it’s called a hobby.

This mental masturbation all happened before 8AM.


I looked at the pole and I took a deep breath. My only job was to have fun, and not fall.

I took the stage and danced my Masters ass off. My body switched to auto pilot and I couldn’t tell if I was in the moment or I’d blacked out.

When I finished, I skipped offstage, adrenalin pumping, my youthful grin grinning, and I heard the Stage Manager say, “Keep doing this.” Yes, I think I will.

Later, when I got home and changed clothes, I noticed that my shorts had been on backwards. I suppose the up side was that they weren’t inside out.

To my humble surprise, I placed second. It was the icing on a very informative and revelatory cake.

As evidenced by pole dancing in shorts worn backwards, I’ve opened my heart, my mind, and my legs, and will see where this hobby takes me.

Pot is Legal in Alaska

Pot is legal Alaska

Pot is legal in Alaska. It’s the first red state and the third U.S. state.

However, there won’t be any dancing in the streets; not only because it’s friggin’ cold outside but because it’s still not legal to light up in public.

Who you calling the Last Frontier now!

When I was a child, I thought pot was legal because why would my parents roll it and smoke it in our living room with their friends if it wasn’t.

Turns out it wasn’t.

As my brother and I waited for our babysitter to arrive one night, kneeling at my fathers feet, he told tell us that, although it was okay to smoke in the apartment, it wasn’t okay to share this information with the babysitter, if she should inquire about the odd smell wafting throughout the apartment, that was coming from the joint hanging between my father’s fingers.

And so it was, the birth of my struggle with boundaries, half-truths and mixed messages.



She Gave Him A Fake Phone Number

There’s a commercial running now, I believe for the lottery. It shows a guy talking to a girl at a bar. He asks her if she’d like to go out with him, and if he could get her number.

She smiles, says yes, and he enters her digits into his phone.

Cut to, perhaps, a day or two later. He dials her number. Uh, oh, he’s called a pizza parlor.

So I ask, why did she give him a bum number? Why did she say that she’d go out with him, when she clearly had no intention of doing so? Why lie? And what does this have to do with the lottery?

I’ll tell you. He decides to play the wrong number when he buys a lottery ticket. I guess he got over that pretty quickly. Maybe he was used to women giving him wrong numbers.

The commercial ends but I think it would’ve been sweeter if he won the jackpot, and was somehow able to throw it in the wench’s face.

I understand if you meet a guy, or gal, and they seem creepy, overly zealous in wanting your number and shows stalker potential, but I know that both women, and men, practice the art of lying. I’ve probably done it myself but why?

Why waste time with wrong numbers and stringing people along, giving them hope? False advertising, nest pas. You don’t want to hurt the other person by blatantly rejecting them to their face. It’s so much better to be rejected by the pizza parlor owner.

Is it?

Love Is In the Air and Online



Love is in the air, so in honor of Valentine’s Day, I bring you original emails from days of yore (that means a long time ago) on J-Date.

It won’t be difficult to see why my experience online lasted about two months.

To amuse myself, which is always a priority, I commented on said e-mails, but I never sent them.

Too Jew For You, Excerpts from Real J-date Emails. They’ll have you saying, “Holy shit nuggets, he said what?”

10/28 2:38 pm


A healing penis with no baggage. Totally self confident except for a few social phobias. Driven by Wellbutrin and grounded by Effexor. A jew with his own toolbox who can do minor household repairs. According to Tom Leykis, you have the perfect profile for me. If you have a Costco membership card…I’m marchin’ to the altar. Won’t you give me a chance and help get me off this site?


Where to begin? Penis? This guy actually wrote, “a healing penis with no baggage.” That took balls. However, this vagina won’t be responding. Some people shouldn’t go for humor. It just makes them sounding like an escapee from Bellevue.

10/27 10:32 pm


Hi – I am the one that came up with the 100 word minimum on J-date. If you’ll have dinner with me, I’ll reduce the minimum to 50 words. If it REALLY goes well, I’ll dispense with the minimum altogether! I LIKE it when you’re serious – did you surprise yourself? Joseph


This was in response to my bitching about the 100-word minimum that J-date asks you to meet when answering their questions. A lot of guys think they’re being cute and funny when they address this issue. Often they’re neither. In my profile, I answer a question rather seriously, and then call attention to my seriousness. This chap thought he’d get inside my head. Bad idea. It’s dangerous in there.

10/27 12:18 am


Hi Great Smile and teeth. I’m a newyorker, or, x its been along time. Im in west hollywood and would enjoy hearung rom you..i just rejoined/good /or bad? Ill try. Scott 323 555-1212


There’s something creepy about pointing out someone’s teeth, even though mine are exceptional. I had braces for 5 years. His spelling and grammar is horrific. Spell check? Most computers have it. Do the work. Don’t be a lazy, f’er.

10/26 12:47 am


This is fun. Sit down in a chair. Take the index finger of the hand you write with and point it forward. Now lift your leg so your foot is off of the floor. (If you are right handed use right leg and vice versa). Move your foot clockwise. At the same time, write the number 6 with your index finger. Let me know what happens. Ken (My picture should be online tomorrow)


I’ll tell you what happened, Ken. I got dizzy and almost fell off my chair. The f’d up thing is that I actually did it. Okay, that’s my issue but c’mon. I got a little scared when I saw index finger. Index finger? Where is this perv going? What actually happens is that your foot and your finger start moving in sync. See ya Ken. And good luck.

10/22 12:42 pm


Love’s labor shall not be lost (As long as you respond!) [Play on Shakespeare]


This brings me to the ‘pre-made’ teases that you can choose from. I think if you use a prefab line, you’re saying, I’m lazy, and I have no imagination or will to live. Which is a total turn on. A little effort goes a long way. You are looking for your future ex-wife after all.

11/20 2:26 pm


Now I don’t date actresses, being a manager, but I can’t resist telling you that rather than leaving my hat on, I date women free of STD’s and don’t want any part of condoms. Leave your diaphram in.


Seeing STD in print gives me the heebie jeebies. Do you think that by telling me that you’re a manager is going to get my pants down? And what makes you think I use a diaphragm?

And scene.

Vaginal Weightlifting

vaginal weightlifting

Russian weightlifters; Vasiliy Ivanovich AlekseyevYury Vlasov and  Ruslan ALBEGOV.

And now Tatyana Kozhevnikova, the 2009 world record holder in… Vaginal Weightlifting. What else can I say about the Russians.

So often I sit down to write and it’s pure torture trying to come up with a subject matter that I can get behind. And then there are times when golden laced gems fall in my lap; signifying that my muse is working overtime. Thank you Bernice.

And coming off of the heels of Steam Cleaning Your Vagina. Suffice to say it’s been a very pleasurable couple of weeks.

Yes, Vaginal weightlifting is here. And I’m coming late to the party. It’s been a thing, well, at least since Tatyana was crowned, Strongest Vagina In The Land in 2009. God knows if my grandmother practiced this shit in her day but was too repressed (or modest) to open her pie hole about it.

Kim Anami describes herself as a holistic sex and relationship expert. What actually constitutes an expert? Having lots of holistic sex? She is how I found out about VW.

I like this woman. She’s traveled, practiced Tantra, Taoist philosophy, gypsetted in Bali and beyond, and has a collection of couture crystals and Maribou dildos. Isn’t a Maribou a bird? I’m so confused but let’s not get too off topic.

She practices vaginal weightlifting and even offers an 8-week seminar, called Vaginal Kung Fu. I think it’s $500. A friggin bargain if you ask me. I wonder if she supplies the objects to be lifted.

I’m all for sexual empowerment, sexual energy, connecting mind, body and spirit. I jazz walk down off beaten paths, welcome unconventional systems and have dabbled in unorthodox practices.

However, I also cannot ignore the absurd, and humorous.

Kim says that us ladies can buy a jade egg, which has been pre-drilled (convenient) on one end and a string hangs down from it. Insert above egg into your cooter and tie the dangling string to any object that strikes your fancy. Easy breezy fun.

Kim has lifted, among other things, a container of cold pressed juice, dumbbells, crystals, gluten free donuts and Rambutans, an Indonesian fleshy sweet fruit. No, this was not lost on me.

But the piece de resistance is… drumroll please… a friggin surf board. I am kidding you not.

vaginal weightlifting


Her belief is that a strong (literally) and powerful vagina has many benefits, including better sex. She says that it’s like yoga for the vagina.

I don’t want to be argumentative or a contrarian, but when she says that lifting surf boards and small children from her cooter, strengthens the pelvic floor better than, say Kegels, I would offer that this vaginal weightlifting is more like Pilates for the vagina, not yoga. (no offense Yogis)

Pilates is all about the pelvic floor and Kegels, and better sex and I don’t have to stick an egg in my cooter, and try to lift a buffet from my vagina to get it.

Her claims:

1. Have better orgasms. By better she means, longer, deeper, more intense, and includes the ability to ejaculate.

And why do I want to ejaculate? Is this an example of feminism grandstanding? “I am woman, see me ejaculate.” Which coincidentally was Helen Reddy’s other, lesser known, chart topper.

2. Keep your internal organs lifted, strong and perhaps prevent vaginal or bladder prolapse.

Pilates! Table for one please.

3. Have an easier childbirth and recover more quickly afterward.

I’ve spoken to several Pilates instructors, and they admitted that childbirth still felt like hot andirons coming out of their vaginas, strong pelvic floors be damned. Sorry, but no guarantees there.

And let me just say that your pelvic floor can be too tight (and strong) The muscles need to be able to relax as well.

4. Up your libido. When the vagina is weak, it feels numb. Sex is infinitely more pleasurable with a sensitive and articulate vagina.

So what, now my vagina needs to be able to express itself fluently and coherently? That’s a lot of pressure.

5. Eliminate issues of urinary incontinence. Really, eliminate?

Cut To: Equinox and Crunch gyms now offering vaginal weightlifting classes for seniors.

Now that’s a snapshot I don’t ever want to see.

6. When women are dissociated from their vaginas, they are also cut off from the natural and enlivening flow of their sexual energy. When the vagina is brought back to life, that vital, life-force energy is available to you to channel into all parts of your life.

My life-force was brought back to me when I bungee jumped off of a bridge over a stream. The next time I jump, I’ll hang from my vagina.

If I vaginal weight lift, am I going to be sore the next day and not be able to have sex? That would seem counterproductive.

7. A natural facelift. When you strengthen and pull up the pelvic floor muscles, you create an energetic lift throughout the entire body, which even registers in the face. I have had clients stop using Botox after beginning their lifting practice.

I will never stop using Botox. I’m all for lifting everything that can be lifted, and I consider my pelvic floor muscles in wonderful shape but nobody has ever told me that my face, or vagina, looks more pulled up, after a Pilates session.

8. Be able to shoot ping pong balls.

Now we’re talking. Bring on the piano stool. Thailand is waiting!