Another Tomboy Becomes A Feminist

As an only child I played with the neighborhood children, who were mostly boys. This worked well for me since I had rejected every doll my family had ever given me. I loved playing baseball, basketball and even tag football in the streets with the boys. And I turned into a tough little girl too. I played as rough as I got, and I had the scrapes and bruises to prove it.

The boys would often play nice with me and then when I would win, they would step up the intensity. I always wanted them to play with me like I was a boy, an equal. Playing like equals was pretty easy between the ages of 4-7. Something happened at age 8 though. I think I become a GIRL, and now the foe.

Ever since I was 8 years old, I have never regained that easy camaraderie with boys or men. My attempts to be an equal whether in school or work have been rebuffed at best. I was now restricted to the company of girls and women. And, so I discovered by age 11 that females were considered by many people to be unequal to males.

But I knew better from my tomboy days...and so since then I have devoted a significant part of my life to ending sexism. I have become a feminist. I have gone to rallies and marches, I have been an editor of a feminist newsmagazine at UCLA, and I have worked at women's organizations in Washington, DC. I guess you could say I've contributed to the women's movement.

But I don't know if this tomboy will ever get to play like an equal with boys and men. But my hope is that future generations of women will have far more opportunities to play ball with the guys. And I hope they win too!

For Art’s Sake

Have you ever wanted to be a painter and live on the Left Bank in Paris? Well I have. So I just decided to teach myself how to paint. For me it was just like the Nike slogan, "Just Do It."
I used up a tremendous amount of paint and paper. My discovery process required making a lot of mistakes. Some mistakes were moments of serendipity where I had an "Ah-Ha". But most moments were just the makings of bad art---no grace or beauty about it. But I persisted, and with each and every attempt I became even more charged up about painting.

Finally, I had a breakthrough in technique, and voila I produced two or three paintings I could put up on my home's walls. (Kathleen has been a very supportive partner who has been willing to live with my art. She's wonderfully kind.)

Since boldness has always been my strong suit, I decided to share my work with the world. I choose to show at Artomatic. It's a non-juried show, so I didn't have to worry about not being "good enough." I just had to worry about being "bold enough" to do it. Well, I debuted in the 2004 show, and several other artists liked my paintings. I had accomplished my goal: paint and show. Now I needed to show and sell---much harder to do.

Meanwhile I kept buying enough paint and paper to fund a third world country. It was using up most of my discretionary income, but I was hooked on painting. I produced a few more presentable paintings and got an opportunity to be a part of a staff art show where I worked. Showing at work was like coming out as an artist to people who only thought they knew me. And since my work is abstract expressionism, they really saw a side of me that I hadn't "shown" them before. Despite my anxieties, everything went well. I now had two shows under my belt.

Finally, I got my big break. I donated a painting to a charity's gala, and my painting sold for a modest amount. But unfortunately, by then, I had painted myself out of money. And I'm still looking for another good job so that I can afford to paint again.

But above all else, my painting odyssey gave me confidence in myself. While I hope to do it again soon, if I can't, I am satisfied with the time I had with my painting---She was a lovely mistress, and she taught me some of my first lessons on becoming a Renaissance woman.

A Defining Moment…

You’d never guess it from my freshman year that I was going to be popular in college. I certainly didn’t plan on it or even plot it. It was just 1982, and I came out to myself and everyone else (except my family). And then there was an open position (or rather a huge vacancy) for a radical lesbian feminist student at UCLA. It was a wide open opportunity. I don’t think I had any competition except my girlfriend, who worked a different angle than I did.

At UCLA in those days we had special interest papers for ethnic, Jewish, LGBT and women’s issues. As a feminist I worked on the women’s newsmagazine, Together. I worked my way up from reporter to editor-in-chief. Finally, as a journalist I had become a BDOC (Big Dyke on Campus) and popular, at least with some people. But being a BDOC wasn’t all fun and games. The position had responsibilities too.

The LGBT student publication, Ten Percent (as it was known then) had lost its Business Manager, and if it couldn’t recruit another one, was facing shut-down. I struck a deal with the Chair of the Communications Board that if we could show support for Ten Percent in the form of a petition and a rally, the Communications Board would extend the deadline for finding a Business Manager and keep the paper alive.

I asked everyone to sign that petition to keep Ten Percent alive. People signed and signed. In a week I had close to 200 signatures. The campus Gay and Lesbian Association (GALA) got into the act and organized the rally for Ten Percent. We mobilized. Now remember this was 1983…it was UCLA but still it was 1983.

GALA got at least 12 different speakers for the rally. A crowd of at least 100 people gathered. Finally, my turn came to speak. All I could think to say was a rallying cry. So I raised my fist in front of that crowd and shouted “We’re gay and we’re not going away.” The other gays and lesbians in the crowd picked up the rallying cry and repeated it several times. Before long the whole crowd was chanting it.

From that moment onward, I knew what my heart’s mission would be in my lifetime. I had experienced my defining moment.

By the way, Ten Percent did get a Business Manager and is still thriving (albeit under a different name) today.

In My Day

What did you do in “your day” way back when? My day was when I was a student at UCLA in the early 80s. Oh, I did the typical pseudo-intellectual stuff---I drank a lot of coffee and smoked cigarettes (we still smoked in those days) while philosophizing about who knows what (I think we were really just exercising our developing minds). Later, after a six-month stint of hanging out in a Santa Monica gay bar, I launched into women’s studies classes, feminism and finally I become an editor of a women’s news magazine.

Meanwhile, there were romances and really just hook-ups, but it was all very lively and entertaining as I recall. Oh, there was heartache and heartbreak too. Let’s just say there was lots of drama, as you would expect from a university in the middle of movie land.

I even wrote a screenplay with a friend. It was a punk vs. mod new wave version of West Side Story titled Masquerade. Gee, I can’t believe I can still remember that pitch line. I must have repeated that pitch line to every agent and producer who would lend us an ear. My friend and I even got some action (interest) from a producer (a woman, of course) at Tristar. But unfortunately, the pressures of the biz contributed to the break-up of the collaboration between my friend and me. Oh well…

We didn’t have many parties in “my day” (because who could afford it? We were students after all). But we had one memorable party. This Halloween costume party stands out in my memory because people really came as themselves but just dressed up in costume. I came as Batwoman, and my collaborator, who we thought might have TB, came as the GERM. We were a motley assortment of characters.

So what about you? Please write me a brief comment about what “your day” was like. Did you come out? Get straight A’s in college, or just cut up a rug dancing your heart out? Come ‘on, tell us a little about “your day way back then…”

I Googled Her

Have you ever googled your Exes on the Internet? Just to find out what they’ve been doing since you’ve left their lives? I’m not a stalker. Not by any means. I’m a storyteller and the most familiar story I know about is my life and the lives of my friends and lovers. And anyway, I’m just a curious person I guess. I’m always wondering how my college friends and lovers’ lives have turned out. I guess people go to reunions to find out about that stuff. Well, now you don’t have to dress up or pay to go to a reunion. We have Google and a search by name.

The problem with googling your Exes by name is that so many people will have the same name as they do. I’m sure you all have encountered this on Facebook as well as the Internet. At least on Facebook you have a picture to work with. Not so if you do a Google search. It’s a name, a description and your best guess.

The funny thing about the searches I’ve made of my lovers is that Kathleen, my dearest of almost 16 years and who is into IT, can’t be found on the Internet. Gives me pause to wonder---what do those IT folks know that we don’t know…Anyway, most of my college friends and lovers turned up---some in expected places and doing expected things and some in not so expected places and doing unexpected things.

It’s not surprising that most of my friends and ex-girlfriends can be found on the Internet. They all were drawn to the spotlight and were mostly student journalists way back in the day at UCLA. Most of them have done a lot with their lives since college. I can’t wait to Google everyone when I suspect we’re all retired. Won’t that be interesting…I wonder what trouble we’ll all stir up then…

Come Out!

October 11 is a big day for us. It’s National Coming Out Day for the LGBT community. It’s a day full of challenges and inspirations. How you will come out depends upon you. Many of us are brave and come out to family, friends and in our workplaces. For others who need to take baby steps, it may be as simple as sporting a haircut that makes you “look like a lesbian.” Whichever way you choose to come out, remember this: only come out on your own terms and in your own way.

Many straight people are happy more of us are coming out. And yet they are unaware of the risks we are taking when we do so. I wrote the following rules for straight people. Please pass it along as you see fit.

LET THEM TELL YOU

A gay person faces many perils when coming out. If you are an LGBT person, coming out is a life-long and constant process.  For the most part, whoever you are, whatever you do and wherever you are, LGBT people are assumed to be straight.  Our society considers all of its members to be straight unless otherwise determined.  This puts the burden on LGBT people to reveal themselves, often at the risk of losing friends, family acceptance, their careers or even their personal safety.

Despite these risks, many LGBT people have come out and refused to live in silence and invisibility. There are many levels to coming out.  First, LGBT people must come out to themselves.  This self-recognition can happen anytime during the course of a lifetime.  Usually, the next level is when an LGBT comes out to other LGBT friends or a potential lover.  Later, people often seek out the LGBT community for friends, significant others or sexual partners.

There is an unwritten code in the LGBT community that it will not endanger its members.  This often translates into not “outing” someone’s sexual orientation to straight people, anyone who is not a member of the community or who is deemed untrustworthy.  This trust issue is where things get tricky in the community.  Sometimes it leads to a degree of paranoia within the community.

The next level of coming out is to straight friends and eventually family members.  For some this comes early depending on the expected level of acceptance from family and friends.  For other who have reasons to expect a negative reaction, it comes later or perhaps never.

Coming out in one’s career can be very difficult.  For most LGBT people the workplace is still one of “don’t ask, don’t tell.”  Many people have been either harassed or fired for revealing their sexual orientation.  In some municipalities non-discrimination laws are on the books, but in many workplaces the climate is still chilly for LGBT people. Exceptions are on the rise, and workplaces that endorse a “pro-equality” position encourage LGBT people to come out in this significant part of their lives.

Finally, the ultimate coming out is a public declaration in the media.  These LGBT people, nowadays often celebrities or politicos, go on record and often become role-models.  Ironically, the media attention often acts as a shield from detractors---not hiding or living in fear makes one stronger and less vulnerable.

Given the dangers and potential losses of coming out for LGBT people, straight people are advised to let LGBT people tell you.  Don’t come out for them.

October 11th is our day to come out and be proud. You may be surprised just how many people come out. Remember there is strength in numbers…and our numbers of brave people are growing every day. Let’s make October 11th a great day! Come outf
 

Such a Deal!

My friends and I are having ourselves a BFLYS (Big Fat Lesbian Yard Sale) in a couple of weeks. I’ll be liquidating the last of my hand-made tie-dye at clearance prices. Everything is priced to go.

Several years ago (in the deepest part of the recession) Kathleen and I tried our hands at making a small (in this case tiny) business go and make a profit. We were in the business of making and selling tie-dye t-shirts, tablecloths, scarfs and bandanas. The name of our business was Serendipity One, Retro Textile Designs, and all our products were hand-dyed and originally designed. Kathleen and I sold our wares at a county park’s flea market in an ice skating rink. The 1st year’s sales were encouraging, and we almost broke even.

I wrote the following promotion piece for Serendipity One’s Facebook page (which is still up and has photos of the t-shirt’s designs and colors) after our first day selling the t-shirts.

Why I Tie-Dye…

About a year ago, I went to my favorite arts and crafts store. This store is like a candy store for me. So many possibilities only limited by imagination and inspiration. I wandered the aisles and found myself in the blank white t-shirt and fabric dying aisle. I have never considered myself a crafter. I have always had loftier ambitions. I mean I’m an abstract expressionist painter. I’ve shown, for god sakes! But I found myself drawn to the tie-dye kit. “Oh, I can play at being a hippie,” something I was never very good at due to my bourgeoisie pretensions. I bought the kit, telling myself that I needed something to do with all my time since I was recently unemployed.

Well, I had a blast! I bought a handful of shirts and did tie-dye. A few of my creations even got compliments from a professional artist friend. My mother in LA was completely baffled by my new venture. “What about your painting?” Well, I painted, and then I fit in the tie-dye. I wore the t-shirts every day and everywhere. Soon I was buying t-shirts wholesale and dye from Dharma Trading Company. I was in production mode. I even got my girlfriend into making them. We bonded over tie-dye, and I even quit my 3 pack a day smoking habit—a miracle!

Soon all the shirts were creating a storage problem. So I bought bins and then more bins. I sold a few but I mostly sought encouragement by giving the t-shirts as gifts to friends. Much to my surprise, my friends raved about them. Quite frankly, I didn’t quite see what they saw. But doing the tie-dye was keeping me off the cigarettes, and I was grateful for the distraction.

Next, my friends began requesting a fall line, with darker colors and long sleeves. So why not, I was into this thing that had overtaken my life and kept me off the dreaded nicotine. I changed my dying methods and voila—a fall line. I sold a few more.

Meanwhile my part-time contract job was finishing up, and I decided that with little prospect of finding another job during this severe recession, I’d go into the tie-dye business. I’d start out with t-shirts and do custom orders for big jobs like tablecloths and bedspreads. So I took $200 out of my checking account and bought a $100 worth of t-shirts and another $100 worth of dye. My plan was to do a summer line of 40 shirts, all of which would be hand dyed.

I tie-dyed shirt after shirt. Slowly I built up my numbers. After approximately 30 new shirts, I mixed them into my inventory from the past year. I was ready to debut. Now I needed to find a location. I’m well aware that it’s all about “location, location, location” when it comes to business. But the arts and crafts exhibitor world is like a food chain; the better ones cost more in entry fees and are juried while the less desirable ones are cheaper but with questionable returns. So with the sage advice of my girlfriend, I decided to start small and hope to grow—I chose an upscale flea market.

Last Saturday we packed up the car and left at 6:45am for the Flea Market in the Park. The location was a covered outdoor skating rink in a county park. We had about 25 vendors ranging from the hat lady to the cake lady. (There were plenty of people doing the typical yard sale thing too.)

My girlfriend and I made sales well beyond the cost of the entrance fee. We felt like a success!

Well, we probably sold over 200 handmade t-shirts over the course of two years. I loved doing tie-dye but just couldn’t afford to keep putting money into the business. You know how it is… cash flow problems. But I have no regrets. I had the time of my life.

Now I need to move about 50-75 of the leftover t-shirts. I hope to sell them at The Big Fat Lesbian Yard Sale. Serendipity One’s t-shirts that sold for $15 will now be marked down to just $3. Where else can you get a cool looking t-shirt for $3 bucks? Such a deal, I’d say.

So if you’re in the DC area and on the listservs, keep an eye out for The Big Fat Lesbian Yard Sale. Details will be forthcoming.

The Line-Up

Guess where I am during the evening commute? I pick up my dearest at the Metro Kiss n Ride. It's really a happening place. I pull up and line up behind the other cars. We're all waiting for someone to emerge from the Metro's exit and get into their car. I often come early, long before Kathleen arrives. (So that I'll get a good place in the line-up and hopefully, move up to the front by the time Kathleen's train comes.)

At the Kiss n Ride I've got time on my hands. So I listen to the radio and drink a soda. Often that amuses me. But sometimes, I'll admit it, I people-watch. Lately I've been playing a game which I call "Can you match the car with the passenger?" or another one which is "Who goes with their bumper stickers?".

In my neighborhood almost everyone has bumper stickers and/or vanity plates. My neighbors aren't shy about advertising their political views, spiritual beliefs or preferences in restaurants. Some people are an easy match-up with their bumper stickers, and other people you would never guess so.

We do the pet bumper sticker, as you might guess. Since we're cat ladies, it all comes down for us to a short and pithy "MEOW."

In My Movie

You know how every town and industry has its own lingo? Well, I grew up in LA and went to UCLA. So as you might guess, I was surrounded by movies and their magic from the time I’d watch black and white movie classics with my mother as a pre-teen to now when I pick up another Netflix movie from the postbox.

When I was growing up movies were my portal to the outside world since I was stuck in conventional suburbia (and just hating it). But I didn’t just watch movies. No, I imagined movies or more precisely my future life as a movie. In Hollywood lingo, this is called imagining your own personal movie.

I guess you could say I have an active imagination. But ever since I left home at 18, I’ve been living out my imagination, whether it was horseback riding on the beach in Baja, Mexico or when I was working in Washington, DC for a progressive professional association that was just a short walk away from the US Capitol buildings.

It seems like life itself needs to be imagined and then willed into being. I know this is a Hollywood philosophy and from people who have more imagination than common sense. But there’s just something attractive and thrilling about being “in your own movie.”

So the next time you pop in a DVD into the recorder, hit the pause button and imagine what’s going on “in your movie” a year from now. You’ll probably be surprised!

It’s CHAOS

That’s right! Our house is in a state of CHAOS (Can’t Have Anyone Over Syndrome). Just saying that our house is in a state of disarray or just needs a little tidying up would be disrespectful to the creative state of upheaval our house has become.

Of course, my partner and I both have issues about this CHAOS. We both want a tidy and clean house, but we just don’t seem able to execute the chores to make it so. So what do we do?

We buy books about housekeeping (My partner even reads them!). We also try “take back your house” programs (with some success until we’re overcome with some additional stressor that derails us for a while). Or we do the sure fire method: invite people over to our house for a get-together or a party. (Now it’s necessary that you actually care about what your invitees think about you; otherwise this motivational technique fails miserably.)

Still, after the party, the read book, or the Internet housekeeping program, our house de-evolves into another creative mess. At best our cleaning and tidying up rotates like the lunar cycle. Now, it only takes 28 days for it to become a full mess again.

But things are getting better. Both my partner and I are committed to overcoming the CHAOS somehow or someway. Because, you know, we’re really not messy people.

The Change

I guess you could say that both my partner and I are going through “The Change." It's subtle in many ways. There's of course, the forgetfulness or short-term memory loss. There are also the hot flashes or the "warm flashes", as Kathleen puts it. Oh, yeah, then there's the icky night sweats too. And what about all that weight gain and how it's next to impossible to lose twenty pounds?

Definitely not fun! But for all the hormonal fluctuations “The Change” puts us through, it has one noticeable benefit --- improvements in self-confidence.

Nowadays, I am confident that I'm the standard of what's normal. Basically, if there's a problem, it's not me it's them. Compare that to my insecure and angst-ridden twenties and you wouldn't believe I was the same person. Now all that increased testosterone floating through my system is no doubt contributing to this new edgier self. I believe in myself as only a medieval warrior does when storming a castle’s walls. And when driving, I always have the right-of-way.

But for all the changes, it's also nice to feel at ease with myself. Sure we all don't look or feel as sexy as we did 30 years ago, but I'd gladly give up all the accompanying drama that went with being young, beautiful and available. But then again, that's just me!

Lately, I’ve even noticed that young people defer a little to me and Kathleen. And I wonder how we ever got old enough for that. But the scary thing is now our generation is running the world. The problem is there's no one better to run it. It's just us guys...hot flashes and all...

Fresh Air

At 50 years of age, I often find myself looking backwards and wondering how things might have turned out if I had turned left versus right at crucial moments during my life. Of course, I’ll never know what would have happened, but it’s an amusing pastime.

Most often I’m intrigued about how my life would have progressed if I had chosen a different occupation. I ended up in psychology research, but my heart was really into journalism and social work. There just doesn’t seem to be enough productive years in a lifetime to do two or maybe three careers. And getting the necessary education, whether that be a master’s or even just a bachelor’s, has become very expensive for one career let alone getting the training for a second or “encore” career. Somehow making a career switch for the sake of love and happiness just isn’t so feasible in these difficult economic times.

So what do you do if you need some fresh air in your life? If you can’t change jobs, you can change your recreational activities or volunteer at your local zoo, school or hospital. You’ll meet new people who are doing things that are new to you. You’ll be refreshed, and you’ll probably make friends too.

For the most part, retirement gives one “refreshing” opportunities to do things close to one’s heart. You’ll be amazed at how many things or ideas interest you when the stress and strain of working drops away from your life.

I may not have another paying job, but my interests and hobbies are taking me on exciting adventures whether it’s “chatting” on email listservs or blogging to a community dear to my heart. I sorta get to be the social worker/journalist I always wanted to be. You see, I’m a volunteer now. And you know, in a way, it’s a whole lot easier when you don’t get paid.

Ah…Let’s Go Shopping, Dear!

You know the saying that when “the going gets tough, the tough get going.” Well, my partner and I have a different take on it: We go shopping. Now we did this a lot more ten years ago before the economy went south and we hit our 50’s with its mounting pressures to save for retirement. But lately, it’s getting so tough that maybe we might put off saving a bit for retirement and indulge in some immediate gratification.

Nowadays shopping is so easy. The stores just about grab you through the Internet and barrage you with mailed catalogues. You know how it goes: hard to make the money and so easy to spend it (and so fast too). But now we’re all seeing the virtues of frugality and demonizing gross consumerism. I’ve tightened my belt too. I just don’t look anymore. It’s like giving up chocolate or wine. After a while you only faintly and intellectually miss it like a fading memory of good times. Oh well.

I just wish that I had appreciated my shopping vice more when I practiced it years ago. At the time, the shopping sprees were all part of the whirlwind as we all floated along on a false sense of prosperity. But the Great Recession has sobered me up; I too have lowered my expectations, or my standards, as we all come to grips with the “new normal” economy.

So now instead of “going shopping”, I attempt to create things that I can sell. Actually, Kathleen and I play around with book ideas, story ideas or just about anything you can do with a computer and two minds. Who knows, maybe an idea will pan out and bring in some extra cash. If not, we’ll have some fun at being creative. Heck, it sure beats TV.

Calamity Du Jour

“Well, these are our specials: We have an earthquake on Tuesday and a hurricane on Saturday. Not to be out-done by Vermont's flooding, the next week we have our own flooding after three days of torrential rains. And then, our grand special is the "credible but unconfirmed" terrorist threat for the 10th anniversary of 9/11. All specials come with all-you-can-eat media hype and a souvenir flashlight for any emergency situation."

Our "specials" in DC, or as I like to call it "ground zero", can really work one's nerves. If the disaster isn't political, it's natural. Or at least it is lately. And then, we're just blessed with the entire country's scorn. If the country just knew how hard some of the country's best minds were at work in DC, maybe the country’s expectations would be on a human scale and not that of a Hollywood movie. But everyone expects magic while no one understands how it works.

I just hope that tomorrow's “specials” are side dishes and not dinner entrees because DC needs to go on a calamity diet.

F-A-T-I-G-U-E

We are all knee-deep into the second week of the US Open (Tennis), and I'm starting to experience Tennis F-A-T-I-G-U-E. It's a condition brought on by prolonged exposure to endless tennis matches, often during a Grand Slam Tennis Tournament. I've been watching tennis for many days now---all day, every day and most of the night. And when Tennis Channel dropped out, I picked up my laptop and started live streaming matches. You could say I'm into the Open.

And I'm only on Day 8. We've got a few more days to go. Guess I'm just going to have to take a break from my obsessional behavior. So I'll miss some great tennis, some historic tie-breaks or stupendous sets. It’s just too bad for me. Anyway, everything is starting to all look alike to me. And, I'm starting to get to know the players too well. When I start making comments about their clothes more than their last play, I know I'm burning out.

So what do I do? Do my errands? Is that enough of a distraction? For one thing, we'll have to put a moratorium on all talk about tennis. Guess the car rides will be quiet. Well, maybe it's on the car radio...it isn't. No way around it---I'm just going to have to go through tennis withdrawal for an hour or two.

BTW do you know of anything else going on in the world today?

I Love This Sport

One of my favorite things is happening...the US Open (Tennis) in New York City. We went to it in 2004, and Oh My God...it was like a Disneyland for tennis junkies. More tennis being played than you can imagine. And more tennis superstars than you'll ever see in any one place in the USA.

Usually we watch the Open from our living room. Kathleen at work is known for taking off the second week of the Open for her vacation. At home she sets herself up from the vantage point of our living room couch and watches match after match on all the channels broadcasting the Open: ESPN, The Tennis Channel and CBS. She even sets up her laptop so she can watch two matches at the same time. As if that's not enough engagement, my dearest is also busy knitting yet another sweater, with of course the cats requiring attention intermittently. And she complains she never does anything!

Meanwhile I'm keeping an eye on my favorite champions and watching also for the next up-and-comer-superstar. I predicted Nadal would be a winner, but my crystal ball has been murky for women's tennis. Well, so has a lot of other people's lately.

But this year's eyes are all on Serena Williams. She's a fierce champion and an American, which are two things both the media and the public love. She also can be quite theatrical, and her presence adds some excitement to the whole Open. Tennis has never been sedate when Serena plays.

If Serena stays healthy, she probably is your best bet for the women's side. I don't know what kind of odds Vegas has on her, but you'll probably make more than even money. However, at this point, there's been so much hype about Serena returning triumphantly to win the Open that we may be convinced she already has done so before she steps out on the Women's Final Match court.

A lot of matches have yet to be played. So I'm taking a wait and see approach before handing Serena the US Open trophy. Actually, I'd rather be surprised by an under-rated underdog winning the Open, wouldn't you?

A One-Night Stand with Irene

You know, I've never known any Irenes until now. And now she's coming to our town with everyone's undivided attention. For about 24 hours or a little more than one night, Hurricane Irene is going to move through my life (and everyone else's) and leave who-knows-what-in-her-wake. It's so like those romances (well, one-night stands) we all indulged in when we were still sowing our wild oats.

But this Irene is different. I just had to buy my one-night stands a drink or two or maybe at most dinner and a movie. Hurricane Irene requires "emergency supplies". This means non-perishable food, gallons of water, radios, batteries and candles---and that's just the basics. Furthermore, it takes days to prepare for her while you're constantly trying to catch the latest news about her arrival.

But it's certain that she's arriving since she's a force of nature and we live in her "projected path." We know she's going to turn off the lights (and the power!). So we busy ourselves with tasks that require electricity since our power company was so "kind" to phone us with the news that there would be extended power outages. Such service!

This Irene may be the most memorable one-night stand I'll ever have. I'm sure she'll be beautiful, powerful and damn scary. No wonder they named this hurricane after a woman.

Fresh at the Farmers’ Market

We have a Saturday morning ritual: We go to the farmers' market. We used to go on Sundays, but the market in our neighboring town was a zoo! It was so crowded that I got pushed to the side-lines. Granted our neighboring town’s market has mostly organic fruits, vegetables, breads, meats and cheeses, and our town’s market mostly doesn't. But I can actually shop, pick and choose my produce at our farmers’ market, which is the whole point, isn't it? And, I regret to report this---our neighboring town’s market brought out the rudest behavior in people. Lots of pushing and shoving...Sorry everyone…I just can't get into it over tomatoes, corn and peaches.

So now we go to our town’s market. It's quite nice and located in the downtown plaza. Sometimes they even have a band playing (and not too loud!). The produce is fresh, local and very much in-season. The people seem cool and laid-back. And now I no longer have anxieties about being mowed down by somebody seeking tomatoes or flowers. It's such a happening and happy place that I took some video of the market, which I have yet to edit. (Maybe someday I'll get video on this blog too!)

Did I mention that Kathleen LOVES shopping at the farmers' market? She never forgets her re-usable canvas bags and smiles the whole way through the market. Afterwards, she tells me over and over again how we got "some good food."

I'm happy too for the opportunity to be mingling and shopping with my neighbors. The market on the plaza has become a meeting place for long lost friends and colleagues. Somehow it seems more likely to meet like-minded friends at the farmers' market.

I guess shopping at the farmers' market is now the "thing to do," and we're doing it too. Will you?

Hiss n' Spit

Ever see a real cat fight? It ain't pretty! About every month or so our cats wrestle and do a little hissing and spitting. Nothing too alarming. Actually, I think our alpha cat, Perrier, is just re-asserting her dominance. Meanwhile, Evian doesn't just roll over but puts up a little fight to maintain her dignity. Or maybe they're both just blowing off steam from living together all the time (they're indoor cats). But then, really who knows what motivates cats...?

Actually, Kathleen and I aren't that different from the cats. For the most part we get along well through life's trials and tribulations. But even we snap now and then. And fight like cats, hissing and spitting at each other. After being together 15 years, I think both of us feel pretty confident that the relationship will survive the fight. At least I hope so...

But then there's nothing like a good fight to clear the air. As long as you fight fair and know when to stop. Often in the middle of a blowing-off-steam-from-stress-fight, Kathleen and I catch a glimpse of ourselves and start laughing. We realize that we're really fighting over nothing. Or what we are fighting about is so trivial that it doesn't merit the emotion or the volume.

And then we make up---and somehow like the cats, life just goes on---and we often go out to Starbucks. Before you know it we’re drinking lattes and laughing. And in time, all’s well again.

Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

I've always had the expectation that life would be smooth sailing. But all through my life I've run into obstacles and blamed myself for them. I believed that I was the cause of the obstacles and that something was wrong with me. Something like I either must have a lot of bad karma to work through or like "life" is just supposed to be perfect, isn't it?

But I've lived and learned that one person's perfect is another person's hell. So maybe all those obstacles, or road blocks and detours, were guidance in a very indirect way. Oh, my will has been thwarted many a time. And I'll never know how things might have turned out if I had gotten my way. But at least at 50 years of age, I now know when to avoid, ignore and generally find some positive way to cope with life's obstacles and set-backs.

The learning curve isn't so steep anymore either. And I feel no compulsion to live a "perfect" life. I may not take life's obstacles in stride, but I'm less likely to curse myself or the gods.

I guess I can finally mount my Ganesh mask to a wall in my living room. Ganesh is an Indian god who is a remover of obstacles. Kathleen found the mask when she traveled to San Francisco on business. I don't think Ganesh eliminates the obstacles. He just makes me more comfortable removing them.

I needed an Indian god to teach me that obstacles will always appear in life. Now my "perfect" life includes even obstacles.

Nap Time

You know you're squarely into middle age when you look forward to your naps. Personally, I'm not a big napper. Now I like a good lie-down while listening to the radio now and then, but as far as going unconscious for long stretches of time I'm just not your girl. Oh, I like sleep, but I prefer thinking or really zoning to a long nap.

Now I've found that some people actually nap for hours, and they even schedule it into their afternoon's weekend activities. You've got to be real close to a person before they'll tell you about their nap schedule. Often they'll just be "busy" in the afternoons a lot. Or always. Sometimes you don't find out about the "napping" until you move in together when it, well, becomes obvious.

I know all this because I live with a Sleeping Beauty. She's a real sleeper. Hours upon hours of sleep. And she’s practically nocturnal too. She's like the cats. They sleep all afternoon, and so does she when she naps.

Every once in a while I try out this nap thing. The most I get is 45-60 minutes and then I'm up. It's just not for me. I'd rather listen to music while playing mahjongg on the computer. I guess I'm just not a napper. I'm a zoner. What are you?

Clicking Chopsticks

I love food, don't you? Well, my favorite food for the moment is Asian. Not just the Chinese that they will deliver to your door. Oh no! I like it all. The Thai, the Vietnamese, the Burmese, the Chinese and the ultimate: the Japanese!

I was introduced to Japanese when I was eight years old and visiting family in Tokyo way back in 1969. We got the grand tour and my uncle being a foodie gave us memorable dining experiences. Well, my palate had been conditioned and ever since I have been in search of my favorite food: SUSHI.

Sushi is everywhere nowadays. It’s prepared and sold in grocery stores, food courts in malls, and yes, restaurants both low-end and high-end. What varies is quality, quantity, freshness and price. I have sampled sushi in all of its different venues. And depending on your cash-flow and your mood, I'd say go for the most you can afford. Also trust your instincts about the fish's freshness. Such as, if the sushi place is doing a brisk business, the fish most likely isn't sitting a long time in the glass case---a good sign of freshness.

Also, sushi requires an adventuresome spirit for most Americans. Most of us can't pronounce the morsels of fish that we will consume and many of us have no idea which ones to order. Be brave and experiment. You'll like some and others you won't like. But you will have at least tried it. That's what's great about sushi---It pushes your boundaries!!!

Shopping for Tennis Shoes

I used to love shopping for shoes...what woman doesn't? Well, now I'm not quite so sure I do. I'm in the market for tennis shoes for playing tennis. And I'm having a heck of a time finding something I like.

Oh, I've gone to the athletic shoe stores only to find dozens of men’s tennis shoes and maybe three or four styles for women's tennis shoes. Now I know we didn't pass the Equal Rights Amendment but I'd like a little more parity with the men’s shoes. I mean women DO play tennis and so they DO need proper footwear.

But Kathleen and I aren't waiting for the brick and mortar shoe stores to discover our niche market. We are now exploring tennis shoes on the Internet. After Kathleen’s exhaustive search, she found that I would have my choice among 13 or so brands and four to five styles within a brand. I did the math and figured out I'd have almost 85 different shoes to choose from. One problem: I don't get to try on the shoes before I buy them. And unlike Cinderella, if the shoes didn't fit, I'd have to return them and take them to the post office. Since I'm not good about getting to the post office, I think I'm going to do another Google search and find a tennis shop near me.

Knit One, Purl Two

A while back most of our friends were either breaking up or moving overseas. We were bereft!!! After saying good-by and good luck, we took stock of our social life and realized that we wanted to make some new friends. So what do you do? Where do you go? Who do you talk to?

So Kathleen and I embarked upon a mission: Making Friends. Much to our surprise we had good luck from the get-go. We started a knitting group that met at a local coffee shop. We advertised on some Yahoo Groups listservs. And so, we had knitters arriving once a month for over a year at our gatherings. We made friends too. We even became members of a clique.

But unfortunately, it seems our clique is breaking up now. People are moving away again and moving on to new and different things.

Guess, it's time to get out there again and make some new friends. One has to make new friends constantly because, as many people have told me, people in Washington, DC are transitory. It’s strange that this LA girl who has been in the DC area 22 years is considered by some to be a native. I guess somebody has got to hold down the fort!!!

Summer Shut-ins

"It's hot and Code Orange." That means one thing in our household. We'll be inside our house waiting out the bad weather and the awful air quality.
I used to fight this when I was younger and go out anyway. Well, we still do when Kathleen can't work from home. But nowadays I accept being heat-sensitive and prone to heat stroke. And Kathleen doesn't fight the bad air quality anymore either. As we age we learn to adapt.
It’s like living during a summer hibernation when we stay indoors. Now you'd think our house would be sparkling clean. I'm sorry to report it is not. It's amazing how many naps one can take in the course of a day. But I do believe we catch up on our email and we cook a lot (and eat a lot too.)

Oh, I hate to mention that we also develop cabin fever and have the eventual fight about something trivial. After a while we get over ourselves and make some ice coffee and laugh it all off.

But we've got two more days to go during this heat spell...What the hell, let's clean the house, darling!

Kitty Kismet

I’ve got the kitten fever

And I’ve got it bad, really bad.

Which one will it be?

Another black one, or

Something different like a calico

Or maybe a tortoise shell?

Shall I name her Juneau or

him Vincent after Van Gogh?

A kitten will bring our household headcount

to 5 like the fingers on a hand or

the toes on a foot.

I hope we will all get along?

And where will we find you?

Will the Universe be our agent

And work it out for us?

I hope so, Kitty Kismet. I hope so...

Forgetful After Fifty

I don't know about you, but lately I can't remember what I have in the frig. And I do the shopping! Oh, yes, I know that all I need to do is open the frig and look. But sometimes when I have to pitch a menu of dinner options to my beloved at the Metro Kiss n Ride, I've got to know what I have on hand. And I just don't know what I've got.

It’s the same when it comes time to do grocery shopping. I do it the place-an-order-on-the-internet-and-they-deliver-it-to-me method. So I don't need to leave my laptop and arm chair. And the problem is, I don't. For some reason I trust my memory of what we've got on hand, which is a foolish old woman's vanity. The result is that I over buy. At last count, we had 4 bottles of laundry detergent, 10 bags of coffee and 4 jars of spaghetti sauce. (And I'm sure I'm forgetting something!)

This weekend I'm doing grocery shopping the old-fashioned way. I'm taking an inventory, making a list and going to the grocery store. I'll try to buy only what's on my list. But I'll be tempted to buy goodies. I guess I'll just have to tell myself that if I keep pushing the cart, I'll forget about it. Because you know I will.

Keeping Busy!!!

You know, 18 years old to 50 years old is a busy time of life. You've got to get yourself educated, you've got to start a career, you often are looking for a mate whether it be lifelong or temporary. Then some of us marry and settle somewhere. Maybe it’s a permanent place but most likely not. We move, buy a house, upgrade and move somewhere else. In between these moves and career changes, some of us find the time to even have children. Hopefully, our relationships survive all of this. If not, we break-up or divorce and eventually look for someone else. Meanwhile most of us are working and trying to get ahead. A few of us succeed, but for the many of us who don't, we just fade into the background as the successful get the attention of front-runners. And then wow you get hit with a mid-life crisis: I've done what I was told to do and I've got what I think I want and need...So why am I so unhappy?

So we visit therapists, we visit our clergy and it all comes down to this: Just get yourself a hobby, a creative outlet. You'll feel better. And voila, the existential angst goes away...for a while.And then you turn 50 and you're looking at retirement, medicare, social security, and death... All of a sudden everything just got real hard. And then you realize you’re going to need A LOT of good luck!

My Ex is on TV. Well Sorta…

How many of you have an Ex whose first name is now an NBC sitcom? I mean her name isn't usual. It's Whitney. We parted on fairly amicable terms. But NBC runs so many of the Whitney show commercials that I think I'm going to stop watching NBC for a while. Talk about a relationship haunting you!

A Roll of the Dice

Kathleen and I play a lot of backgammon on her iPad when we go out to eat. It’s fun, and it relieves us from coming up with something interesting to talk about. But more important than it being just something to do while we wait for our food, backgammon has become a metaphor for the flow and ebb of life itself for me.

Backgammon is played on a board with discs and dice. It’s the dice that really matter after you've mastered a certain skill level. And I propose that this luck factor is how it goes with life too.

Sometimes the dice will be with Kathleen, and she will win game after game. Now she knows what to do with the good rolls and also how to minimize the damage of a bad roll here and there. So with some good luck, Kathleen will have a winning streak that will last the meal or even days on end if she's really hot.

It pretty much goes the same with me. I love the dice and often have good luck with them. Things get really interesting when Kathleen and I are both throwing good rolls and the dice are working for us. It’s then a hot game that is full of excitement.

But eventually, the dice go cold, and all your rolls are losers. But I've learned that this too shall pass. Either stop playing for a while or play through the losing streak. The good rolls will come again, and you'll win again.

And so you see, this too is how life goes. After you get the skills, experience, and have honed your intuition, it’s all a matter of the dice. And a willingness to play the game whether it be backgammon or life!

Training Humans

Well, I guess you could say I'm a cat lady in training. Most of my pet experience was with dogs until about 15 years ago. So you could say I've just started my training with the basic care-taking duties for cats. I chose to be the "food mama" for our cats. I'm a person of routine and pretty regular, so the regimen of feeding and providing water is easy for me. Of course, the cats ignored me at first. No acknowledgement that I provided them with their food. For so long I just felt like a servant. But cats are not easy with their affections. And I knew that if I persisted that they would come to appreciate my ministrations.

You also must understand that the other cat lady in our household ranks on the level of a cat goddess. Kathleen practically grew up in a zoo. Her mother was both a breeder and trainer of dogs. And her mother always had a few cats in the house, so Kathleen was surrounded by pets from an early age. I also think that Kathleen's affinity for pets, and cats in particular, is both genetic and a product of many lifetimes. Cats will often ignore me while they are drawn to Kathleen. So, you see, I've got some tough competition for the cats' attentions and affections.

Well, years of feedings have passed, and I've been reliable. I make sure feeding time is always "on-time", and the food is top quality and never in short supply. Our alpha cat, Perrier, will actually remind me an hour or so before feeding time. This is the only time she pays attention to me, but we still do the will-you-feed-me-now-routine every day. We have bonded. I have found my place in the cats' lives. Finally.

Sucker for a Pretty Face

"You're a goner," Kathleen flatly states. "They've bewitched you."
"Is there a treatment? A cure?" I implore.
" The kitten fever passes...just be patient."
"How patient is patient?" I wonder.
"Soon you'll appreciate cats and kittens without having to make them yours."
"Hmmm, sounds good, and we've got Perrier and Evian. Two will do." I sigh, "For now!"

A Fine Shelter Indeed!

I have been to the nicest, cleanest, well-kept and kept-up animal shelter. This shelter was beyond even my imagination. It was like a Beverly Hills Rehab and Spa Center for cats and dogs. The Washington Animal Rescue League's facilities are state-of-the-art. The cats and dogs look very healthy and seem very emotionally stable and well-adjusted. If I can drive there, it would be a great place to volunteer.

I think I'd become a cat socializer, which is someone who plays with the cats and kittens. That’s just my speed. I'm sure the cats and kittens would do me more good than I would them. But isn't it always that way with us humans? Well, I think animals give us so much and really ask so little in return. It’s amazing that they decide to live with us…

You know, President Truman said that if you "want a friend in Washington, DC, get a dog (or cat)." Really, we humans need the companionship of cats and dogs. We need them---a lot. They help keep us emotionally balanced and physically fit. And amused. I mean how many times have you laughed at your cat or dog? Countless, right? And then there's the unconditional love...priceless!

A Tough Cookie

Lately, I haven't felt like such a tough girl. Maybe it’s been the not smoking. There's something about a cigarette dangling from your mouth that just evokes that tough girl aura. Well no longer for me. And maybe all that bravado I had was really a by-product of the nicotine and caffeine that I was ingesting. So now I'm calm and not quite as passionate about things. I find myself not caring about political issues and quite apathetic at times.

The big issues consumed my life for many decades; in many ways I neglected myself and my own life. Well now I've discovered the notion of self-interest, and believe me, it doesn't always contradict with your social/political/economic altruism. And since my progressive politics are now considered centrist by some, the world has evolved enough for me to relax a little. My fighting days at the front lines are over. At times I feel like a place-holder or at other times like a sacred observer. It’s very different than being a warrior or an activist.

So now I'm more interested in reflection than advancing a cause. I'm just trying to make sense out of it all. So what about you?

A High-Priced Ticket

I was dreaming last night about attending Wimbledon. So I did a little Internet research. I pulled up the tour company we used when we went to the US Open. Well, depending on the package you want, it ranges from 2 days at Wimbledon for about $5,000 (plus airfare) per person to a top-of-the-line package for $15,000 per person. These packages include hotel in London, tickets---the only way you can get Centre Court tickets---and transportation from the airport, and to and from Wimbledon.

Most likely we'll be buying a car instead in a few years. Maybe we'll splurge and get a wide-screen TV and watch Wimbledons in the future from our living room in HD style.

But I'll miss saying I saw the Queen at Wimbledon. She looks so lovely in that robin-egg blue. Oh well...

Long Lost TV

I've re-discovered TV. For almost 15 years I hadn't watched it except for an occasional basketball game, tennis match or presidential campaign news coverage. Before that, the TV was on constantly from morning to night. I lived with a girlfriend who was very keyed into the entertainment industry and LA culture, and the TV was her portal to it. And consequently, she HAD to have the TV on all the time. Needless to say, I quickly became turned off with TV. And it stuck all these years.

Now I can barely operate our TV or decipher the remote. I'm learning. I watched all sorts of shows yesterday. Amazing what's on when you havn't been watching for a while.