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.

The Voice Finds Us

The Voice has nearly taken over my life on Monday and sometimes Tuesday nights. We didn't watch evening TV much until the Voice. Now we're hooked on the show's competition and who will eventually become the number one "Voice."
 
I've never watched American Idol or Dancing with the Stars. So these talent shows are still new to me. But finally, even "I  who does not watch TV" has succumbed. I mean consider our other options...ok, we've got hundreds of channels on cable but how many do you really watch? 10 to maybe 15? And of those, who nowadays wants to watch the news, sitcoms, another WWII war documentary or a silly romantic comedy on the Disney channel?
 
We've done it all before. But give us a singing competition, the American Dream, and a good show among hopefuls, and we can't get enough.
 
On the Voice, we all have our favorites who we are pulling for or even voting for. These hopefuls compete for exposure and a possible big break in the music business, such as a record contract (or maybe even more...) We want them to succeed...We want them to win! Because somehow we'll win a little too!  

Livin' The Good Life --- Cat Style

Our cats live the Good Life. Not only do they have the best in food, shelter and medical care, they have an attending Cat Goddess (or Keeper of the Cat Shrine). My beloved Kathleen administers to the cats' emotional, psychological and general well-being; she pets them constantly and talks to them all the time. (I feed them with an occasional pet here and there.)
 
Now we have a TV show for us cat lovers--"My Cat From Hell" on Animal Planet. (For a quick fix, check out the videos on the Animal Planet website.)  It showcases Jackson Galaxy, who is an eccentric yet charming (of course) cat whisperer by day and a musician by night. He visits distressed companions of cats and offers rehabilitative solutions for their cats'  psychological issues. This show is fascinating if you're into the psychology of cats.
 
Kathleen made me watch six episodes back-to-back one Saturday. She's hooked on the show and now follows Jackson Galaxy advice like some people follow their Sunday minister's sermon. One example is when Jackson encouraged companions of older cats to take their cat into the vet for once-a-year check-ups. All of a sudden our Perrier was listless (which she was--it was winter). Perrier went to our vet and came out with a clean bill of health that cost over $350. We were happy but a little unhappy about the bill---does it really cost so much to tell me our cat is healthy?
 
But the best advice we got from Jackson Galaxy focuses on the importance of cat trees for kitties. We already had one, but it was old, frayed from clawing and just generally very used. So Kathleen went shopping on the internet and found one of the best cat trees that money can buy. She even assembled it (without cursing or meltdowns). And it looks beautiful.
 
The new cat tree took a little while for our kitties to claim. But it's now theirs. Unfortunately, the cats won't part with the old cat tree. So now the cats have their own furniture in our living room.
 
So I guess you could say Kathleen comes with cats. And I love her for it too.

Friends Are Asking For More…

I had no idea that I would still be blogging Forgetful After Fifty. Somehow the muses have remained faithful to me and have whispered sweet inspirations on a regular schedule. I am just these comedic muses' typist, and sometimes I wish I could type faster to keep up with them.  But my slow typing gives both the muses and me ample room to edit as we go. And we go a little here and a little there until finally we have sentences, paragraphs, and lastly, a posting.

But this isn’t funny, you say. True, even my cats are funnier than writing about writing. You’re right---It’s really boring.

But you must understand that we writers fret about process and are amazed by its mysterious qualities like gleaming gems in sunlight. The best of us and the worst of us live for those moments when we are entranced or just “channeling” some muses’ work which we later claim as our own.

Basically, we writers don’t understand what we are doing but we do it nonetheless.

So I’m going to keep doing it,. Hopefully, my muses will be funnier in the next posting. Maybe I'll get back to funny basics: CATS.

I Want to Play Keyboards

I love music. I listen to it almost every waking moment. Well something at least that most of us would consider music. But do I "know it" or "understand it"? Not at all. When I played a little (and I mean a little) piano when I was in high school, I learned to read music well enough to be in the school's choir. That was the extent of my musical education.

Since then, I've bought and played over 700 CDs. Oh, I have my favorites, but I'm also proud of my range in musical tastes---from Opera to Pop or as artists go from Mozart to Buddha Bar.

But I also want to play an instrument. My voice is old, thin and has got more "grit" in it from cigarettes than a rock quarry. So the voice is out. I've decided that I want to get an electronic keyboard because we have no room for a piano, which is my first choice.

I want to play keyboards. Take lessons. Practice when Kathleen's home. And drive her up the walls. (Gee, I hope I won't be that bad, but you know I will be.)

If you think I can take lessons at 50 years of age and learn to play the keyboards, give me a "like" in the comments section. But don't worry. I'll still blog. I don't think I really have got a serious future as a rocker!

Name Something Wonderful After Me

You know, everyone wants something named after them...a street, a building or a song. Well, I got something named after me. That's right, "Diane's Large Economy Shower Cap." It was so ugly. It looked like something you'd see in a surgical ward. I think next time I'm gonna go after a street...in a nice residential area.

My First Pair of Birkenstocks

I know, I know...I'm way behind the curve on this one. Well, almost three to four decades behind, but I've caught up...I bought my first pair of Birkenstock's just a week ago. It was a long time in the coming for me.

Even though I'm from California, which everyone thinks is a hip and happening place, I grew up among the conservatives. And trust me in the 60's and 70's, they didn't buy their children hippy Birkenstocks. God forbid! They bought their children sensible shoes, and so I wore Keds sneakers---remember those?

Well, as life would have it, I've worked my way from the conservative Keds to the hippy-dippy Birkenstocks. It's been a twisty, long, and sometimes treacherous trek. But now I'm outfitted for my retirement journey. And I made it to the other side. WOO HOO!!!

Thanks Guys!

I’ve been blogging Forgetful After Fifty for about 9 months or the time it takes to bring a baby into this world. I have endeavored to remain true to a whimsical, musing approach to life. And also I have attempted to present the unique perspective of an older lesbian who is partnered and who lives with cats.

One thing about this blogging business that I don’t like (as its author) is that I never see the faces of my audience. I just hope that you all laugh when I hoped you would laugh and you also teared-up when I anticipated you would.

But your comments have been really helpful, and I appreciate them a lot. They at least give me some idea if I’m amusing you or not. Please feel free to comment either on the blog or to me personally. Or better yet become a follower. I know none of us consider ourselves a follower to anybody else. Think of it as we are all leading and following each other at the same time. Or consider this: you will just have to sign-up for my blogroll. Either which way, you’ll be assured of getting each one of Forgetful After Fifty’s postings

Well, just before this posting, the blog reached the 3,000 pageviews mark. The blog has traveled around the world to English-speaking and many non-English speaking countries. We indeed are everywhere.

Thanks so much for reading Forgetful After Fifty. I’m having a blast. I hope you are too!

With laughter,
Diane

Taxes, UGH!!!

Hey guys, its that time again. The IRS has got us in its grips with the April 17th deadline. Have you filed yet? Or are you only filing for an extension?

Death and taxes are the two things you can't avoid in life. And everyone feels different about taxes, well sorta different. One thing is certain; no one wants to pay more taxes than they have to. But everyone has different ideas about how the taxes ought to be spent. And some of us want even less taxes collected.

Regardless of your political viewpoint on taxes, taxes will dutifully be collected by the IRS. Some of us will pay taxes to the IRS, and some of us will get money back. For a lot of us, we will engage in a Spring spending spree. For others, we'll deposit the money in the bank and see a bump in our savings account.

Either which way I hope the economy grows and joblessness declines because we've got an important election coming up...

The Write Stuff

I'm finally doing something I enjoy because I simply enjoy doing it. Not for money, not for recognition, not for popularity and certainly not for fame. I enjoy writing and I think more so than your average writer. Because from all the writing classes I've taken, everyone acts as if the writing is just something they did while alone to pass some time. Now, in class, they want to talk about agents, publishers and producers. That's where their passion lies. And then there's the market research and demographics and your target audience. It's easy to get consumed with the sale side of writing and forget about your writing itself.

I know this all too well. I did it until now, and if you don't believe how obsessed I was with selling my work, ask Kathleen. Maybe now I've gone extremely the other way and want only my artistic freedom. (I'm sure I'll find the middle road some time soon.)

But in the meanwhile I'm still looking for a writing class. I wonder which one will be right for me?