Some days I cry a lot.

Smelling the sweetness of a brisket baking in the oven to feed my children who were all home for the weekend or eating an overly salted fried egg on Sunday mornings-my late father’s breakfast special- makes me cry.

But last week, while reading Elizabeth Renzetti’s poignant article in the Globe and Mail about the vanishing faces of older women in film and television, I cried for the fifth time that day. It was a stunning and well-written piece about women and aging- a subject that consumes me.

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Love that Diesel underwear!
Maybe I’m making too big a deal about turning 5O but when my best gal’s big birthday came up- I knew we had to do something fun and naughty!

We first hit the spa. I was massaged by a six-foot fiver who liked to talk more than massage, but I’m sure asking an onslaught of questions about his childhood, his past relationships and his plans for early retirement, prompted a flood of verbiage.
Later, we threw back glasses of some bubbly, I put on some mascara and slick faux leather leggings and off we all went to a cool dinner spot for some amazing food at Lee’s on King Street West. http://www.susur.com/lee/

But the highlight, other than entertaining the curious male servers who were forced to listen to our incessant giggling about our girlish fantasies, was our adventure at Remingtons-Men of Steel http://www.remingtons.com/ a most-of-the-time gay male strip bar that is open to us women after 9 p.m.

Never thought I ‘d really like to watch almost-naked guys on stage wearing only DIESEL underwear, but I did! http://www.diesel.com/underwear They looked surprisingly innocent, as they nonchalantly walked on stage, took off their shoes, remembering to neatly tuck in their white socks back into their runners. Impressive!

The music got louder when this tattooed smooth-chested beast of a man dropped his pants, and teased us gals with a dance that was a culmination of discarded dance moves from Saturday Night Fever and Dirty Dancing but it was entertaining.

I loved it when he spun himself around, and up and down the dance pole, and then without warning broke into an especially sexy dance reserved for the young ladies sitting on the side of the stage. They were the lucky ones I thought- as they coyly placed a few dollars into the stripper man’s briefs and sweetly tapped his belly. “Why couldn’t I do that?” I thought I was braver than these girls.

But whenever a dancer tried to make eye contact with me and my friend shouted,

“ He’s coming for you”, I immediately broke into a sweat and gazed down at my black boots bouncing under the table.

The strangest thing was that these well-built guys with hairless legs and other body parts, wore Diesel briefs, in an assortment of red, neon green and army camouflage patterns. “Maybe they went to an outlet mall in Buffalo and got a really good deal on Diesel?” I thought or “Maybe they got a Diesel sponsor to cover them up- just like David Beckham and Calvin Klein?”

I loved their underwear so much that I really didn’t want them to take it off- that is after I saw what was underneath. “Nothing to write home about,” my mother would say.

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I thought that Monday was a good day to start a blog about my midlife antics. Monday mornings are generally known to cause nausea and anxiety in anticipation of the work week ahead. This Monday was different.It was exactly 5:28 am when I suddenly woke up from another back-to-high school nightmare, one of many that have trickled into my REM sleep over the years. You know the usual- “Argh!” I forgot the combination to my locker- or “Damn” I’m naked walking down the school halls and everyone is looking at me but I don’t care- yikes maybe I do?

But last night was different. I was a high school senior and my teacher handed me back my math test with sorrowful eyes. Etched boldly in pencil in the top left corner was “ 6/25”- not exactly a stellar mark. Panic ensued, “How am I going to get into university? “ ” Do I have to take summer school?” “Oh no! ”

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Hemand and Vaishali Panwar in Indian dance.

Under the glow of white patio lights, amidst a swirl of friendly faces, Indian music playing in the background, over 300 of Toronto’s Jewish and Indian young professionals gathered last Thursday evening at Tryst Nightclub on Peter Street, to experience BINDAAS – an artistic and inspirational event celebrating a fusion of Indian and Jewish music, food, art and dance.

The word, “bindaas”, Hindi slang for “cool” or “it’s all good”, best described this spectacular event, organized and sponsored by The Centre for Israel and Jewish Affairs (CIJA), SizeDoesntMatter.com and Hillel of Greater Toronto, in partnership with 16 other organizations from Toronto’s Indian and Jewish communities.

Catering to all the senses, guests attending BINDAAS were welcomed with a line-up of savoury Indian and Jewish foods. Vegetarian pakoras, samosas served with spicy mango dip and mini pita falafel sandwiches floated about the room, and an assortment of colourful Indian sweets, honey cake and halva followed. Henna tattoos were a big hit, and it was worth the wait to have one of Vaishali Shah’s (Shagun Henna Designs, vaishalivms@yahoo.com) beautiful creations. The excitement continued with a mesmerizing classical Indian dance performance, called Katahk, performed by husband and wife team, Hemand and Vaishali Panwar of the Panwar Dance Academy.

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