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Redefining The "Hot Flash"

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Pamela Tames's blog on post-menopausal sexuality is red hot.

Pamela Tames's sex life was dying, her marriage was ending, and her mood was homicidal. But it wasn't until she received a traumatic wake-up call that she realized it was time to turn her life around.

"I'd been watching a home movie one evening, scrutinizing this flabby middle-aged woman as she slumped across a room with her back to the camera," she says on her blog, Seasoned Sex. "I was about to say to my friend, 'who's the fat ass?' when I realized in a flash of heart-exploding panic that the fat ass was me. My friend tried to reassure me that the camera adds weight. 'It doesn't need to,' I screamed, as I ran to hide in the closet, under my clothes that didn't fit anymore."

Tames knew at that moment that it was time to come to terms with her menopause. Menopause was relentlessly expanding her backside and belly. Menopause was killing her sex life. And menopause—or the desire to cover it up—was making her nuts.

Almost immediately thereafter, Tames met with Dr. Chris Heward, a research endocrinologist and President of Kronos Science Laboratory. With his help, she learned all about menopause and hormones, and health and sexuality. After two years, they co-authored a book about everything he taught her entitled Ride the Pink Elephant. And in the midst of all of this, Tames launched the blog entitled Seasoned Sex, which, just as the title suggests, is all about sex and the seasoned gal. 

Featuring tips on how to have great sex after menopause, editorials on how the media discusses aging, interviews with hot women of a certain age, sex toy reviews and poignant confessions, it's more than likely you'll learn a little something with each visit to the site.

But what makes Seasoned Sex truly special is the honesty, humor, optimism and self-effacement that Tames brings to each entry. Whether she's talking about her dedication to Kegel exercises ("soon Mr Kegel himself would be writing me letters of congratulations"), reviewing Ben Wa balls ("the thought of giant marbles falling from my crotch as I walked out of a meeting, say, wasn’t that appealing") or describing her dry vagina ("not even a bit of tacky wetness…just tree bark rubbing against tree bark"), it's hard not to laugh along with her.

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