Not Serena's Night

Well, Serena lost a big one in the 1st round at Roland Garros  (a record breaker for her). Kathleen and I watched the match on tape, and it just wasn't Serena's night. Maybe she just couldn't rely on her serve or paint the lines like she usually does. And then there was the French crowd, who were vocally pulling for her French opponent. Or maybe as Kathleen speculated in a moment of new age color theory, her sea green outfit while beautiful was not a fierce enough color for winning a grand slam.

But regardless of the reasons for Serena's poor performance, after a second-set tie-break that Serena lost and that left her in tears, I think our American Champion realized she wasn't going to win this one. All that remained was saving face. And so she did; she played out the match like a champion.  She lost the match but not her dignity.

Little Known Roland Garros

Everyone knows about tennis and Wimbledon. Most know about the US Open. But only a few seem to know about the Austrailian Open (maybe due to the time differences). However, only the people who "follow tennis" watch Roland Garros (aka the French Open). Oh, I've heard that the French people can be difficult and that they don't like Americans. That may be so, but I love the footage of Paris, its landscapes and cultures. And most importantly, I adore the French people's sense of style.

Voilà---Let's play tennis, my friends...

I've Been Zapped

Every time I return from a trip to LA, I engage in a compare and contrast essay that usually lasts for upwards to a week or so.  This is much to Kathleen's annoyance. My need to "process" these two coasts and two parts of my life and psyche can go on for hours (as my therapist knows oh so well). So I will be brief.
 
As an overweight middle-age woman living on the East Coast I don't get many men or women for that matter who look at me with a smile and sexual glint in their eyes.  Over the years I've missed these everyday and playful flirtations that were so much a part of my youth.
 
Well I got zapped a lot while I was in LA.  Getting zapped is when someone just says "hi" and flashes you with their eyes a look that says " I like you." I grew up with this kind of interaction all the time. It's great for the ego then and now too.  (And it makes you believe you're a hottie even if you're not...which is worth millions!!!)
 
Sure, I know, that those young men and woman most likely thought that I might be someone who could help advance their careers in the entertainment industry. But maybe not. Maybe we we just wanted to get zapped and flirt a little. And really, couldn't the world use a little more playful flirting?

Just Me

I've been on this planet for half a century. I've worked for over thirty years, and I've contributed to the greater good in many ways both personal and political. Along the way I've played many roles and had many manifestations. Now finally I get to re-create myself for me. Not for an employer, not for the lesbian community or not even for my partner.
 
As a retired person, I have no one to please but myself. I feel so liberated by this. No more peer pressure. I can dress whatever way I want. I can wear my hair in a way that pleases me. And no longer is the lesbian haircut required for identification purposes as a political activist.
 
Over the past two years, I've grown out my hair. Many lesbians of my generation no longer ID me as gay. Somehow the "lesbian haircut" made me feel like just another cookie cutter lesbian. I love having longer hair, and trust me it doesn't make me look like a femme either. Kathleen recently joked that I've now become the "Fabio among lesbians." Kathleen likes the longer hair even though she wears her hair short.
 
Becoming me means being a bit of an eccentric while trendy at the same time. I do Versace eyeglass frames and Birkenstocks in the same outfit. Sound confusing? It's not really. I'm just being me. Not a fashion plate or a political party type. Just me.