In Reality

For the longest time I thought I might become

someone else.

I could be Norwegian and learn the language well so people would say how

no one could tell I wasn’t a native.

My hair would miraculously turn blond.

It would be ok to like sex.

I like the sounds of their desserts.

Or I could be a lawyer in Manhattan wearing crispy tight suits in black with very high heels and click click click across the court room floor stating my case with brilliant red lips and always winning.

Rootless like a malformed carrot I

refuse to flourish in one place.

I know this is a  problem this rootlessness.

It’s prevented me from 

applying myself  to much of anything: love, housekeeping, friendship, home repair… you get the story. I kept a suitcase filled with cash hidden in my house and a bag packed with essentials which changed from month to month.

Now my rootlessness fits right in. No one is going anywhere but everyone would like to be rootless.

Where will I go when I can go anywhere?

Hawaii because I can’t get the music of palm trees out of my head.

Like Eloise, I could move into the Four Seasons hotel on the Big Island and go down to dinner every night sitting at the bar overlooking the lapping ocean generously tipping the bartender so that he always saved my seat.

And oh yes there is the spa with palm leaves that rattle above your hut while you are having a massage. Preferably a Lomi Lomi massage and I don’t know what that is.

I have entertained myself all day thinking of places I would like to go when I can go anywhere. Frankly, it may be better in my imagination. That’s been a life long problem of mine.

Person of Interest

“I bought a trailer because I joined a gang.

My feet itched and my rain was shutting

down so I became a nomad

something I’ve always wanted to be.

Some language has a word for it: people

who don’t feel like they belong anywhere.

That’s me. I’m pretty old so I was worried

about camping places

alone. Don’t get me wrong I’ve got two

dogs but they haven’t been trained for

anything

but disobedience which I am fond of.

I am old now so no one would be interested

never knowing that I have a flipstack of cash

stored in my hubcaps: left front and right

rear.

I’ve always liked going north.

It doesn’t matter where I start

I just like heading north.

And I like it

Alone”

Taken from the Missouri Star interview with Lulu Roamer photographed in front of her Teardrop camper

Last Woman on Earth

I am the last woman on earth.

I live alone in my house and every day I do the Schedule:

yoga, coffee, meditation, breakfast, look out the window, laundry,

make the bed,

take a shower, take a walk, lie on the floor, wait for the dogs to

jump on me, eat stuff from the fridge,

gaze into it awhile. Brush my hair.

Add blush. Add mascara after thinking about how long it will take

to remove later.

No lipstick.

Yesterday I considered a small glass of red wine with breakfast.

I can’t remember the day.

My neighbor’s new dog barks

enough to make napping problematic.

I drink a lot of tea with half and half and maple syrup which is

tastier than sugar.

After 6 my garage is a café for friends

and dinner comes in white cardboard boxes. We slip food under

our masks like horses with feed buckets or dogs with muzzles.

We are dreamers who believe

next month will bring hope back and neighbors come

two by two

like passengers on Noah’s Ark

run aground and have a hard time leaving.

I’m glad for the distraction and for the wine and anesthesia.

I don’t tell anyone about the hopelessness.

Wasp Homelife

WASP- Homelife

I hate Italian families.

When you see them in a group they’re always laughing and eating,

kissing and hugging and touching each other as if they really mean

it and they don’t mind being close.

Don’t they know that they’re not supposed to behave like that?

In the best of WASP families you never touch anything but a cheek

with another cheek.

You have children but they leave the house

young.

To a WASP there can be no answer as

nothing is written down.

It turns out your family will never resemble an Italian family. 

Never.

Wasps require large houses because everyone needs a greater than normal

amount of space in which to sequester themselves from their

childhood memories.

So if they can afford it they move into mansions and most of the

rooms are left empty.

Certainly on holidays there is one long table but it’s like

Covid before Covid.

I’m trying to learn how to be Italian.

I’m a genetic aberration.

I used to have a friend in the mafia who definitely was Italian.

He used to take me to dinner at the Italian club and during the meal

the table would shimmer and shake according to who was shooting what

weapon at the gun range on the floor below.

Having dinner with Vincent made me feel weirdly protected but

also somewhat

apprehensive . Like having indigestion before you even thought

about eating. I asked him to adopt me but that wasn’t what he had

in mind.

I found out a year ago that Vincent had died. I hate that.

People that you keep thinking of for years

and years and then suddenly you hear that you shouldn’t

have been thinking about them because

they were dead.

“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, we bury the upper crust!”

Motto from a WASP funeral company

In the Desert You Can’t Remember Your Pain

 

In the December desert near the crepuscular 

hour many people experience subtle, ocular

change. Sometimes these changes are

permanent. Saguaros (Te 

quiero) can begin to move

and appear to challenge with their arms

the delicate prickly pear while the Feather

cactus plays, “catch a falling Star“. It is, however,

the Christmas cactus that interests me: 

blooming blood red pink like a baby‘s lips exactly at the

time they say we had a virgin birth.

Who will tell it to bloom now that we have lost faith:

a world divided, no party lines, no Avon lady, no 

agreement  not to kill each other?

 

 

 

Ferguson

So today on Facebook I posted a piece written by a black woman who was raised by white parents which Gloria Steinem had originally posted. It’s been up for a few hours and there’s only one comment. No likes. A friend of mine “unliked” it saying it was biased. I think it’s right on. The writer describes what it’s like to be black in a world where racial profiling is a part of our national profile. It’s a very moving and passionate piece expressing what the writer feels in her own life and asking us, the white people of the world, to do something. She says that prejudice can only be changed by the people who are prejudiced. We are all prejudiced. We can’t help it. No matter what the reality was of the shooting incident in Ferguson, the cops there would probably have hesitated if the guy had been white. Yes, he may have robbed a convenience store prior to the incident, but that mean he should be shot on sight? The only way we can have true equality as a society is if those of us who are in the position to speak up do so. What would it be like if everyone was “colorblind”? It’s not up to the underdog to change things, it’s up to the people of the world who never had to worry about being the underdog. Change happens at the top of any organization. If everyone made an effort to look at their own misplaced fear of those who are different than we are, interesting and positive things will happen.

Hybrid Drivers: Angry or Not?

Hybrid Drivers: Compassionate or Insane?

So every morning Stan and I go for a two mile walk long before most normal folks have even batted one eye. It’s really lovely here by the bay and one can hear many sweet, early morning noises. I used to listen to the news on my IPHONE but one day the battery died and I realized it was much nicer to hear only the natural noise of the neighborhood. We walk up a long set of stairs about half way through the walk and Stanley tries to delay things by pretending to have to pee or sniff the very important grasses along the way.

At the top of the stairs there is a fairly busy street that runs across Sausalito and up to the highway. The street is narrow and it is difficult for two cars to pass one another due to this narrowness as well as the cars parked on the side of the street. As we walk along this street we often pull into a small space between the parked cars to allow a car to safely pass us. I hear the cars coming and usually find a place to pull into with Stanley as I find it safer for both of us.

Now I think of myself as a patient person as well as one who tries to be courteous to others but these days I have noticed there is a war starting in our neighborhood. The hybrid car drivers are really angry and have no patience at all. I noticed this a few years ago on the highway when I became aware of the speed and aggression of Hybrid car drivers. It actually frightened me. So I began to hypothesize about why this was happening. Did the bulk of hybrid drivers buy the cars because they wanted to save money on gas? Did they buy hybrid cars because it was better for the environment? I really don’t know the answer to these questions but I do know that for the most part hybrid car drivers are really pissed they are in these cars in the first place and seem determined to show the rest of the world how aggressively they can drive and how fast they can go.

The other morning Stanley and I were honked at by a hybrid driver who had silently driven up on us and even though we were within our rights to be walking on the side of the road, the driver apparently felt we weren’t giving her enough attention.

The honk was really loud and made both of us jump. I turned, startled by the noise and thinking there was a real problem, only to see that this woman wanted to go even faster than she had been and I was delaying her by seconds by walking my dog around a car.

Now I am perplexed. Isn’t part of the thinking in having a hybrid about being environmentally aware and isn’t sound a part of that awareness?

Isn’t there another solution? Like rolling down her window and calling out,” Excuse me, please?”

The one thing I have managed to maintain (knock on wood!) in my old age is my hearing and those hybrids are really quiet! If I were driving one I would worry about honking at people at such close range thinking I might hurt their ears or be bothered by my rudeness.

The last time something like this happened a young man honked at me and I shouted out at him, “That’s very rude!”

I know, I know. I should learn to just ignore these people but I can’t because I think they have no idea what they are doing.

This young man stopped his car and asked me what I had said which was very strange as I know he heard me. Perhaps he wanted to become belligerent with a 5’5 inch 120 pound lady walking a beige Chihuahua who is really a mutt but is so much more! In any case I said that he would probably have a heart attack if he didn’t learn to calm down and become a more patient driver. Then I told him meditation might help and that there was a class in the evening right down the hill.

He sat there in his car with his mouth open and then just floored his gas pedal and shot off into the morning. You can’t tell me these folks are happy.

So here’s what I think. I think the hybrid drivers are sheepish about their cars and want to prove to the world how powerful they are both mechanically as well as spiritually and they are unable to do either.

I will never drive a hybrid car as I would never progress beyond my own driveway. I like to make a lot of noise when making an entrance!

Tyler Clementi:The crime of Psychological Manslaughter

Bullying on IRFE as of March 5, 2007 (the firs...
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Tyler Clementi: The crime of Psychological Manslaughter

In reviewing the death of Tyler Clementi with friends and family, everyone had an opinion on what should be done to the two students who caused his sexual encounter to be publically broadcast and his resulting suicide. Some felt his death would be punishment enough for the two young people believing their lives would never be the same. The majority, however, felt there should be some type of retribution for this death paid by the two students who intentionally bullied Tyler.

A friend of mine, Joanne, invented a new term which seems apt to me. “Psychological manslaughter”.

We have Vehicular manslaughter, why not psychological manslaughter? I can think of many crimes this term might be attributed to. People who have been cruel to other people , abused others verbally, played tricks on them,  manipulated and ignored others….the list goes on and on.  The net result was the suicide of the tormented person. The crime of causing the suicide of Tyler deserves  a conviction. If these two individuals had not been students at Rutgers, Tyler would still be alive.

Psychological manslaughter would be an accurate description of what happened in this case. I hope the courts consider the facts and consider a punishment that fits the crime. Bullying seems to be escalating in all age groups but particularly the young. Setting a boundary of acceptable behavior would be a good thing.

family wall

In our house in Maine there is a family wall where many memories are drawn or painted. The first measurement of a child’s height was done about 35 years ago when my daughter, Christina, was 2 years old. The wall is now covered with lots of memories and people who visit continue to make more of them. This house is the only house I own which I have owned for this long a period of time. In my real life outside of the months of summer I buy and sell real estate like a grass hopper. I love to move. I love exploring the new property and finding new nooks and crannies to hide in or hide things in. It makes me feel as if I am reinventing myself all over again which is a good feeling. I have noticed there are two different groups when it comes to houses: those that move and those that do not move. Neither group is better than the other , just a different mind-set. I think I like to move because movement seems to be a better feeling than stillness. Stillness can be sobering.

We are in an economy now where there is a lot of stillness interjected without sharp periods of insane fluctuation in the financial markets. Many still believe we are on an upswing. I do not and have not as you will know from my older posts. How can we pull ourselves out of this recession with so much accumulated debt in our government and those of other countries in the world?

So I say “STORE NUTS!”

Just like the squirrels do in time for a long winter we all need to store nuts. Don’t suggest this, our government officials tell us as we ned people to spend to end the recession That seems like a Catch 22 to me. Tell everyone to spend their savings so our economy will improve but what about what happens if people do just that and our economy gets even worse? We all need nuts in our trees to survive what looks like a very long winter.

So I have an idea. What if we all stored nuts and then added a few more for people who didn’t have enough?Wouldn’t that be a good plan? The world is different now and will become more different and less safe. If we band together and help each other life would be better for most.

I don’t have a huge network of family where I live but I do have a large network of friends I am grateful for. I would like to have a wall in my house here of all my friends heights and their small drawings as it would keep me company at night.  Maybe I will begin that project soon.

More Erotic Fantasies from an Older Woman

More Erotic Fantasies from an older woman

Though I am not married, I believe in marriage. I like the word, “husband”. I know this may make some of you smirk.  How can someone like me, an avowed feminist, be supportive of marriage? I think I believe in marriage because I believe in happy endings, holding hands, sending cards on birthdays, celebrating anniversaries, making a relationship romantic even if it is a long term one. I like to word “husband” because it means to me a nice man who is there for you in the long run. Someone to watch your back.

Last night at a dinner party with a group of friends the subject of marriage came up, and I said I hoped to remarry before I was dead. Several of my guests laughed and then a few comments were made like, “Why would you want to get married?” and “Why not just live with the person?” and “Would you want someone around all of the time?”

I am used to these kinds of comments but they still bother me. It seems to me that I should be allowed the same kind of romantic hopes one has when one is young. I have been single for a long time, actually since I was relatively young, and I haven’t lost my romantic desire to be with a significant other. I have no need for financial support nor do I want someone to take care of me. I just want to have a husband.

Yes, it’s true I have gone out with a lot of men. As Marilyn Monroe said so wisely, “Some girls just get asked more!” I have had a really good time over the last 15 years dating up a storm and I don’t regret a minute of it. Now that I am announcing to the world I want to settle down, the world laughs at me!

I wonder why this is. Is it because their own relationships have lost their romance? Is it because they feel uncomfortable when I speak of romantic love and how I would like to find it? Is it because they think I am “too old” to be thinking like this? I am embarrassing them in some way?

I don’t think you are ever too old to be a romantic. I think it is what those small moments are for when you have a really happy daydream about something romantic and you find a small smile on your face. I think it is when you see something about your beloved that reminds you how tenderly you feel about him. I think it is having the pleasure of seeing something in a store you know he would like and buying it for him.

I think sometimes if people could still try to believe in magic they would be happier and have more fun, be more relaxed, and have more meaningful relationships. I am used to people laughing at me because I say things they may have felt but are uncomfortable hearing. Fantasies are not for the faint hearted.

In recent years I have run into a few men who have tried to have a relationship with me despite that fact that they are married. This is such sad behavior. I find it not only bad behavior but also insulting to me. These men prefer, it seems, to compartmentalize their relationships: one for the family, one for love and sex, one for business, etc.

So what am I saying here? I believe in romance despite the fact that I am old yet I find it difficult to speak about my beliefs as most people I know seem uncomfortable with dreams and romance. Romance, to me, means loyalty, faithfulness, passion, support and most of all, flatly refusing to give up my hopes as they get me through the night! And that means a lot particularly in today’s’ world.

So to all of my friends who make fun of my desire, I ask that you change your tune and support me. You may find it fun to dream as well!