Aging

What A Woman Needs To Know

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 4 Comments

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Lately I have been thinking about what a woman needs to craft a joyful and successful life. Of course, being a ying/yang sort of person, I also ponder  what women don’t need as well. As I have thought about this it occurred to me that what I would write now is something completely different from what I would have written at 20, 30, 40 or even, God forbid, 50 something. Seems to me each decade brings a different sort of wisdom that carries us forward, and yet, we also seem to mislay this wisdom because of the mistaken notion that at various ages in our lives we are “suppose” to live and act in a certain pre-defined ways.  Culturally defined ways. A way our mothers would be proud of. A way that we must act and things we must lose if we are to find “true love” like Katie Morosky in the movie The Way We Were.

I think that as women we often we work so hard at becoming who we think we are suppose to be that we lose who we really are; our souls slipping away before we actually do. So in hopes of avoiding becoming soul less souls sooner than later I have written a list of What A Woman Needs  To Know (Or Doesn’t Need To Care About) for my daughters and granddaughters. Here you go girls:

  1. Laugh. Loud and often. Snorting is even better.
  2. Never compare yourself to another unless it is to encourage yourself to go in the direction of your dreams.
  3. Keep your body in shape for you and for your future health. Never diet for someone else…it doesn’t work.
  4. Get all the education that you can so you can be interesting to yourself and others.
  5. Get all the education you can so you can support yourself in the manner you would like.
  6. The first time he hits you…leave.
  7. If you are being called bitch, cunt, or slut by your “loved” one; then you don’t know what love is. Run away fast and find YOURSELF before you find another partner.
  8. Seeing IS believing.
  9. Every week… without fail… put away $10 into your “If I Die Fund.” Then if you have to leave your love interest you won’t be without resources and if you do die your relatives  can bury you in a coffin instead of a cardboard box.
  10. Vacation often and in places that help you to learn more about yourself.
  11. Learn to disagree pleasantly but if the other party is an asshole let your inner “mean girl” come out.
  12. Being a doormat only wrinkles your dress.
  13. Every time you have sex with a stranger you chip away at your soul. Get to know someone first and for goodness sake use a condom (or 2)
  14. Find someone who puts your needs in line with his/her own.
  15. Pick someone who is smarter than you but doesn’t lord it over you.
  16. You will never sustain that honeymoon glow. Be realistic and just try to keep the extreme highs and lows to a minimum.
  17. Being on an emotional rollercoaster DOES NOT mean that it is true love.
  18. Practice kindness especially with those you love and those who love you.
  19. Grant grace as often as you can.
  20. You can choose to be miserable or you can choose to be happy. Choose HAPPY.
  21. Find the things you really care about and then do them. Often.
  22. When you are older you will realize that it is all about the connections. Nurture them.
  23. If you are unhappy it is up to you to have the courage to take the steps to make some changes.
  24. For years I lived in the past and the future. Now I live in the present and I am able to tie my shoes. ( Yeah, scratch your head and think about that one)
  25. If you don’t take some risks you will never know what you are made of.
  26. Find love in all its many forms. We all need as much of it as we can get.
  27. Once a day do something nice for someone.
  28. Words without action are nothing but words.
  29. You will not always be young and beautiful but if you have good manners and great confidence you will be treated like the queen that you are.
  30. If your thoughts/actions are hurtful or unkind you are blinding yourself so that you cannot see clearly.
  31. What seems impossible will be…until it is done.
  32. Have many “huggers” in your life and be the first to give one freely.
  33. Every person has a story so take time to discover what it is.
  34. Be aware enough to know when to give up and when to stay the course.
  35. Beating yourself up leaves nothing but bruises.
  36. Change your mind only if YOU want to.
  37. Be brave. Take risks.
  38. Replace those negative thoughts with positive ones.
  39. Dance freely.
  40. When you are 30 take up a new interest. When you are 40 do the same.
  41. Be around people who cherish you.
  42. It will always get better especially if you take the steps necessary to make it so.
  43. A hot beverage that is drunk it a hot bath is as near to heaven as you will get without being there.
  44. Get over the notion that LIFE WILL ALWAYS BE FAIR. It won’t.
  45. Your job is to raise your children to be the type of person you would want with you when you are on a sinking ship.
  46. Sometimes the only words that fit are “Fuck You” said with total conviction.
  47. Pulling the covers back over your head is often better and smarter than drinking a martini.
  48. Save for your old age. It will be there before you know it. Yeah, I know you don’t believe it… but it will.
  49. Chances are that when you die you will only be talked about by three generations. Try for five.
  50. If you are living on a beer budget, then drink beer, not whiskey.
  51. Which reminds me, if you are getting a cold get in the hottest bathwater you can stand and lay there for awhile while throwing back a couple of shots of whiskey. The cold will mostly likely not develop but you may have a hell of a headache instead.
  52. You reap what you plant.
  53. Be honest.
  54. Don’t let evil into your life whether it be people, music or movies.
  55. Only be as old as you want to be.
  56. Be thankful and look for everyday blessings.
  57. Expect more than what others think is possible.
  58. You get what you get and you don’t throw a fit. Of course there are always exceptions to the rules.
  59. If you only had 6 months to live what would you do? Do it NOW.
  60. Your happiness is controlled by you.
  61. Don’t get complacent in your relationships, in your work and in your life.
  62. Be dependable to yourself first.
  63. Speaking and doing are the same action.
  64. Sometimes in saying nothing you are as guilty as the person doing something.
  65. If you are drinking too much you are probably saying too much too.
  66. Pursue excellence.
  67. As you age you will get hair in places that your dog doesn’t.
  68. As good as it sounds having a threesome is rarely a good idea.
  69. As good as it sounds drinking on an empty stomach is rarely a good idea.
  70. Sit with yourself often.
  71. When you screw up apologize immediately.
  72. On your deathbed you will not be saying “Geez, I wish I had put more hours in at the office.”
  73. The sooner you learn to let things go the sooner you will stand straight again.
  74. Trust your intuition.
  75. Never be afraid to scream or run if you think you are in danger.
  76. If you are feeling uncomfortable there is usually a good reason.
  77. Most of what “others” think doesn’t really matter.
  78. Be silly. Be playful. Be that person that others want to be around.
  79. Say whats on your mind but say it without malice.
  80. If you are in a serious relationship don’t let a week go by without sex. Okay, a few days actually but who wants to hear their grandmother say that!
  81. If your friends and loved ones don’t like your boyfriend there is a reason for that so dump him.
  82. Gossiping is like running a truck over yourself…again and again and again
  83. Going after a married man only leaves you with crucifixion scars.

Self-Deception

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 10 Comments

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When did I …STOP…

Seeing myself as a StRoNg

And CoNfIDeNt Woman?

Was it when…

I didn’t finish my Master’s Degree?

DoUbTfUl

Was it when I stopped working

To take care of a family…

The loneliest Job in the world?

Maybe

Was it when those unexplained absences

Occurred

On those silent nights

When you were gone?

Didn’t help

Or perhaps I never really was

StRoNg and CoNfIdEnT

Those powers lost when I

Was But a ChiLD

Struggling to UNDerStand

A World I Couldn’t

Possibly know

A world made for adults

At which I played dress-up

Taking tea laced with whiskey

Trying to act cool

And impress people

I shouldn’t have bothered with

Did they BeAt me down?

Or did I do it to myself?

I would guess the latter

Yet, I would also suspect

This is a more recent

Phenomenon

That has arrived

Tangled in those few gray hairs

I pluck at

To remove from sight

That age I should be celebrating

Instead of fighting

Like an epic battle

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Between GoOd and EviL

Lost in a dark forest

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In which most of the trees were

Felled long ago

But where shadows remain

With a poster tacked to

The BriTtLe bark of a downed tree which reads:

Lost…StRoNg & CoNfiDeNt Middle Aged Woman

With Blue eyes

A big heart

And dark circles under her eyes

If Found

Please return her to…

ME…

 I miss her

 

 

 

Birthdays

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / Leave a comment

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Next week I head east for the  BIG BIRTHDAY BASH. My Aunt M will be turning 90, my father will be turning 80, and my cousin will celebrate her 70th.That is 240 years between them which amazes me. Even more remarkable they share the same birthday each 10 years apart.

During this weekend celebration I will have the opportunity to visit with cousins that I have not seen in 40 years. But best of all, my daughter and my grandkids will travel up north too. where we will spend time visiting the towns that my relatives used to live in 100 years ago. It will be a blast.

As I have prepared for this joyous occasion I have come to realize that birthdays are something we don’t pay enough attention to. Sure the day you are born is random but who you are and who you become is not. When you were born you brought hope, joy, and promise into this world and you are all still doing it today. Sure the luster may have tarnished a little here and there but the promise we offer the world and each other remains the same as the the day of our birth. What we give of ourselves is still precious. What we teach others is still important. The love we share is priceless. And often the same people who welcomed us when we arrived, still hold the dreams that they held for us on that day deep within their hearts and rejoice as we achieve them.

That is not to say that birthdays don’t have their downfalls. They do. Sometimes as we age we question what our purpose is. We sometimes stall when we should soar. Often birthdays serve to remind us that we must make good of the limited time we have on this earth and gently remind us to get our ass in gear. But most of all birthdays have proven to be good for your health as studies have shown that those who have more birthdays live longer.

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So here’s to birthdays big and small. This year, may you give yourself the gift of allowing yourself the freedom to be who you were born to be and the ability to rejoice in who you are!

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Under The Strawberry Moon

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / Leave a comment

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Tonight, the first night of summer to be exact, a strawberry moon rose steadily from horizon to that place so high in the sky that it appeared to take up almost all the space in the galaxy, leaving room for nothing but a few pulsating stars. The moon’s color was like a Mary Magdalene rose…fluffy and full the luscious golden pink  tinged color. I have seen better strawberry moons where the sky had the hue of a hearty David Austin Sharifa Asma rose, it’s brilliant pink filling the night sky; but if you were just looking for something like a miracle of nature, the other night would do just fine.

As B and I held hands in awe, gazing at the nights passion play, I thought about how the moon had changed from when I was a child. Back then, I would search for the Man in the Moon, who seemed to hide in delight every time I tried to get a glimpse of him. Later, as children arrived and the busy demands of motherhood intervened; I stole quick glances at the sky seldom appreciating the miracle that was unfolding above me. But tonight, my appreciation for the moon peaked when B said, “I love to see the glow of the moon as it shines over you.”

These days as I settle into the later part of my life, I see in the moon what I see in myself. A creation that is glorious in its simplicity, sparkly, and has no ambitions to be anything but what it is…a moon. Like the moon I wish to be appreciated for the light that shines outward from me and for producing those joyous high tides can help change the landscape around us.  And as moon also provides stability to the earth, its gravitational pull ensuring that we don’t spin violently out of control, I would like to be seen as possessing that kind of dependability and support to my family and friends as life shifts around us. And while the moon is moving away from the Earth at a rate of 4 cm per year, I would like to think that when it is my time to move on that I will have left just enough light in my children’s lives to guide them even when clouds linger overhead.

For I am like a strawberry moon…I am brilliant, full of life, and just freakin’ spectacular.

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Sizzle

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 7 Comments

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The other afternoon B and I were stretched out on the sofa just enjoying the time spent together when all of a sudden he did it…one small touch sent sparks to my nipples and I groaned. Not one of the quiet as a mouse groans but the kind that radiate deep below your belly in that soft and slightly wet place that knows you are suddenly exploding into sexual awakening and just wants to help get you in the mood…quickly!

“What was that noise?” Andre yells down from the family room upstairs. “Did someone step on the dogs tail again?”

Oh, God, please …. NO. Stay upstairs. JUST STAY UPSTAIRS.

B reaches for me and all the struggles of the past year seem to melt away. I am happy that we still have this lovely hot connection. A place where we can “get into” each other once again and let our hurts vanish for awhile.

B starts to put the tease on me. His kisses yield my body and I melt into him. He begins brushing me softly and then with slightly more pressure, so that my back arches higher, wanting to him to reach those high places that often get ignored. Another audible sigh starts in my toes with its attending electrical current snapping awake those parts of my body that are still in “kid induced limbo” and escapes from my lips…”ohhhhh…myyyyy” I whisper with delight and a sense of impatience. To borrow a phrase from my friend, Marvin Gaye, “Lets get it on!”

B gets the hint and  whispers “Come on baby, lets go upstairs.” I consider the odds of completing this fantasia while our children are awake. One kid, the most perceptive one is gone. According to my calculations that gives us delightfully low only  661/3% chance of being interrupted or “caught.”  A bookie would faint with those odds at this house.  I quickly decide its a chance I can live with. I even let the dog in the house so he won’t be barking and whinning at the door surely killing this arson-setting spark that we have set of which has the possibility of setting this place on fire.

“Ohhhh…Myyyyy!”

This feels like the old days. The Lets See What You Are Made Of kinds of days. They are those raw, needy, urgent, life affirming, first coming together moments of young ferocious sex. That kind that shakes you down to your core and tears open you heart with the kind of lust that has enough energy to change to course of rivers and perhaps even part the Red Sea.

I would like to say we made it to the comfort of our bed but I can’t. The bathroom provided multiple view points and B is harder than the granite countertop that I laying across. My legs grip B like a cowgirl riding bareback, calves against his muscular flank. I must say I was tempted to make a dramatic sweep to clear the counter but I will confess that the thought of what it would cost to replace my Dolce & Gabbana Light Blue (my ONLY expensive I WANT TO FUCK YOUR LIGHTS OUT scent)  and my favorite #242 lipstick made me hold back instead of sail. I was filled with him… all of him. My head.. with sexy “take me now” thoughts of him. My nose… with the musky scent of his body. My eyes… taking in the delightful naked sight of him taking in me, and well, those other parts too. It was hot but with a children-are-in-the-house type of seductive quiet. It was oh-so-sexy and desperately needed.

Everything was perfect…until the dog started howling. Loud, long, and off-key. A fingernails on the blackboard sound.

“Andre,” I manage to pant/yell from the bathroom. “Please go let the dog in.”

I hear the door slide open and the howling stops. But we continue on for as long as age, children in the house, and howling dogs let you. And I am reminded once again…this is why I married this man!

Later, in the evening Andre looks at me with a blush on his cheeks and a grin on his face. He is one of the smartest people I know and the autism just adds to it because he recognizes things and tunes into things that most of us don’t.

“Mom, did you and Dad have a good time this afternoon?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know this afternoon when the dog was howling.”

“I’m sorry I don’t understand”

“Haven’t you figured out yet that every time you and Dad have sex the dog howls?” he replies with a laugh. ” I’ve noticed he’s been howling quite a bit lately.”

Now it is my turn to blush.

Damn dog!

 

 

 

 

Gone Missing

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 7 Comments

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I recently realized I have no idea who I really am. That is a hard thing to write at my age.

If you had asked me last year who I was and what I stood for I could have given you a laundry list of my good qualities, the bad ones, my likes and dislikes, my truths, my foibles, the things that I tolerated and the things that I could not. Now I have few clues. I am left holding a bag of pieces, a rope and flashing sign which reads detour ahead.

Sometimes I wonder if this is the definition of  a mid-life crisis because it seems as if I am wiping clean the slate and starting over. Only problem… the cleaner doesn’t do its job and all I am are left with is grimy streaks that just muddy things all up and make clarity a rarity.

Supporters of Sigmund Freud believed that a mid-life crisis was brought about by a fear of impending death. I will confess that thoughts of dying do not keep me awake at night but what I want written on my tombstone does.  I guess that is the writer in me wanting to make sure the final sentence of my life is THE perfect one.

Or maybe this loss of “ME” is as simple as early onset dementia. I cannot seem to remember ANYTHING anymore. In fact, I took one of those on-line memory tests and the outcome was SEE YOUR DOCTOR SOON… at least that is what I think I remember. It used to be that I remembered every telephone number in my head nut now I can’t even find the phone. Maybe who I was is now crammed into the junk drawer in the kitchen between the batteries and the eyeglass repair kit. Who knows…but I do know I cannot find myself anywhere.

When Grandma was 85 she told me that when she would walk by a mirror she would think, “Who is that old lady?” because what she saw didn’t match who she saw in her head which was a 25 year old girl. I laughed when she said it but maybe now it is my issue too. What I see doesn’t reflect back who I think I thought I was…that is before I went missing.

It is shocking to me that his has happened. I mean it took so long for me to “find” myself, a self that I was finally pretty comfortable in, only to lost myself again in the prime of my life. I had gotten used to salesgirls ignoring me, the total absence of wolf whistles and having to buy compression socks when I flew. But this…arriving home to a perfect stranger…  I wish I knew her better…it would make life a whole lot easier for all involved.

 

 

Falling Spirits And Falling Faces

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 5 Comments

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My face is falling as are my spirits

My life in free fall too

The jowls of my life crammed and swollen full of life’s misery

While the jowls of my face sag and slide into other parts of my body

Lines like jump ropes criss cross my life

Over which I play an endless game of jump rope

The beat as they interrupt my life kerplop, kerplop, kerplop

In rhythm with my teardrops falling

While my heart goes into an arrhythmia making up its own disorganized beats

The lines around my eyes crinkle

Belting out a song sounding like an opera of sadness and worry

Madame Butterfly perhaps

These lines now permanent reminders of times gone by

And things yet to come

Scary things, sad things, worrisome things

Over which I have little to no control

Will I find joy with the hand I have been dealt?

Or must you look for it under rocks and in deep dark forests?

Elusive joy. Elusive happiness. Elusive everything

My eyes are closing through no fault of their own

Loose skin moving like an avalanche

And weighing them down

The suddenness of this onset surprising me

Taking me down

Down further than I have ever been

I hate it down here

In this sad and lonely place

I have given myself a week to digest this doctor’s news

Give myself a pity party

And then I shall climb back up

Plaster a smile upon my face

And find some sort of life

With the new knowledge at hand

What it will look like

I have no clue

Do we ever?

Copyright 2016 as are all writings put onto this blog

 

 

 

 

Being A Mother Sucks…Part 2

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 7 Comments

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She didn’t like the art museum. Okay, I kind of “get” that seeing pictures of old men with shrunken penises and heads being lopped off may not be your cup of tea but what about the woolly sheep standing in a brilliant green field or the pretty cuddly kitten chasing after a butterfly. Surely out of the thousands of paintings on display you could find ONE you liked. Just ONE. NOPE.

She didn’t like our dinner. She ordered pizza…what’s not to like? It’s a dish she requests time and time again but today it was as if the waiter brought her a plate of liver and onions.

She didn’t eat much of the blueberry pancakes she ordered. What the heck…we have blueberry pancakes all the time! But with hotel prices at $12 a plate for blueberries and batter she couldn’t stand them. ARE YOU KIDDING ME!

She didn’t like the Field Museum…one of the greatest museums in the world. You mean to tell me Ancient China isn’t amazing? NO. Or the gemstones the size of small hills? NO. How about SUE the most complete T-Rex in the world? NO. Really? You didn’t like her either? BORING.IMG_4388

Maybe the Ancient Egyptians with their mummies…thank you… NO!IMG_4429

Or maybe the animals mounted and stuffed in all their glory? GROSS. There was nothing in the entire building that caught her fancy.

Okay, BOLD MOVES by the Joffrey Ballet. This one I was a little worried about. I have really never loved ballet but figure I am giving her some “culture” and if nothing else ideas for her routine. images-6 Of course, she developed a nosebleed in the first part of the performance but I’d be damned if we were leaving. Here is a kleenex. Stuff it up your nose. And so we sat through the three performances and I wept like a crazy old cat lady during the final one. Never have I seen something so beautiful and moving in my entire life. Never could I relate so well. Today I learned to LOVE ballet…my  tween daughter…not so much.

As a mom sometimes it feels like nothing you do is right.EVER. But then you finally catch on and realize it isn’t about you at all. It’s the hormones and your daughter is turning into a bitchy, selfish soon-to-be menstruating maniac and you remember back to a days when your mother could do nothing right. You didn’t like the dress she bought for you…it was too old fashioned just like her. You didn’t do the dishes and she did them for you because it was easier than dealing with the likes of you. You wouldn’t eat her pot roast and sulked like a two-year-old because there was only vanilla ice cream and not chocolate. You refused to SING ALONG WITH MITCH and instead turned up the volume on Led Zeppelin. And that is when it really hits you…horror of horrors… you realize that she has returned as you when you were a horrid cruel totally-into-yourself-snotty-14 year-old. Suddenly you have become your mom… old, boring and certainly not cool. Then, like the principle dancer who hastened her demise and threw herself upon a sword, you briefly consider doing the same, just so you can experience a quick and easy death rather than deal with a reincarnation of a teenage you in the house. That’s when you fall to your knees and wish for just one more hour with your mother so you could apologize, beg her forgiveness and tell her how great a mom she was and that you remember how hard she tried to create moments so special that you would remember them for the rest of your life but not appreciate them until your own daughter’s hormones went awry. And then you cry yet again because suddenly teenagehood is upon you and YOU aren’t ready to give up that sweet little girl that once hung on your every word, freely cuddled with you and loved you back without restraint. Yep, the teen years are upon us…God help us all!

Things Your Mother Never Told You About Aging

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 7 Comments

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So How Does It Feel Turning 55?

Frankly, it sucks …but… it is better than dying in the toilet with your pants down. I mean at this age the probability of that happening increases with every trip to the bathroom. Unfortunately, by the time you are over fifty your bladder has shrunk to the size of a pea which means you “go” every ten minutes which means the chances of getting caught dead with your pants down are approximately  144 per day. This makes going to the bathroom a terrifying experience which often results in holding everything “in” which in turn causes severe constipation.

Turning 55 makes you grumpy. It becomes a perpetual state of being because everything gets even bigger than when you were in your forties. Your medical bills, your waist size, and your appetite. Even your ears get longer…and why? What exactly is the point of having bigger ears at this point in one’s life? I really don’t want to hear the normal everyday crap. Frankly, I just want to tune my kids constant arguing out. I really don’t have a need for longer ears but I suppose since I have two they will just match my not-so-perky breasts. Yep, their giddy-up-and-go, to my dismay, turned into how-low-will- you-go? And need I remind you that your feet also get bigger. Why so you can trip over them and break a hip? Oh yeah, and your nose also grows. Really! I already paid for one nose job does this mean I will need another?

At this age vanity about one’s appearance is just not attractive. You may raise, nip and tuck but you certainly don’t talk about it because no one wants to hear about the fact that the nurse forgot to deflate the balloon on the catheter when she tried to pull it out. (true story that!)

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Another not so pleasant aspect of turning 55 is that you develop gas…bad gas. The roll down your window down for 5 minutes, blow fresh-air-in-your-face kind. The “ewww are we driving by a dairy or something?” kind of farts. It’s then that you realize that your only option to prevent cow comparisions are to live on foods such as liver and onions and tomato juice. Nasty disgusting foods but luckily your taste buds are also going on the fritz so suddenly low-gas causing silk worms seem palatable.

And did I mention hot flashes? The kind that can light up  New York City. The kind that mean you have to wash your sheets on a daily basis. I don’t know about you but I kind of feel like at this age the laundry should be getting less and not growing into monstrous unending piles of drudgery.

Fifty-five is when you start thinking your cellulite looks good compared to the rest of you. It’s when chin hairs become a topic of conversation and figuring out how to clip your toenails becomes a half-day chore. It’s when the bags under your eyes weigh more than the ones you have to carry home from the grocery store and its a time when your g-string gets lost in the folds.

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When you turn 55 you also start considering your options for funerals and do complex calculations to determine if buying the plot now is more cost effective than waiting for when its needed. And if you are smart you leave written instructions instead of letting your kids decide you look good in red when you know all it does is make you look  all washed up and out.

Yet, if you think us over 55 women are washed up/washed out and less desirable than any other woman then there is only one thing I have left to say

 

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California Dreamer

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / Leave a comment

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I am not a dreamer…at least not in the bedroom. I rarely dream during the night. My hypothesis for never reaching REM is that at my age I wake up three times a night to readjust my knee which wakes me up screaming and I get out of bed about five times a night to pee. I guess I should count my blessing that I don’t pee the bed yet but frankly at this point it just might be easier. What I do know for a fact is that all this up and down stuff adds up to a terribly disrupted sleep resulting in a state of dream denial. Until last night…

Last night I dreamt I was some sort of secret agent. A Jamie Bond type of girl if you will. I was thin (loved this dream just for that), younger (ditto), classy and looked exceedingly hot in a long dress with stilettos. There were bad guys, gorgeous girls whom I was trying to save, and then there was B. Yes, B! How he got into this dream I will never know but he did save me from the bad guy (wonder what Freud would say about that!) and then he promptly disappeared never to be seen again. (Ditto the Freud thing) It was comforting to think that he would save my life instead of taking the insurance money and skipping off with one of those other younger women with whom he would have sex three times a day…yet… where did he go?

Anyway, eventually, I found the missing “save the world” chip and slipped it under the skin in my foot, not bleeding a drop. I was amazing…and then I woke up to find I was 30 pounds overweight and wearing flannel. (No, Violet, it wasn’t flannel pajamas but a flannel I am testing for warmth on our trip to Tibet)

Now you may be wondering why I am writing an oddly disjointed post about dreams. It’s selfish really. I am wanting you to interpret my dream for me so I know what to do with the rest of my life…cause frankly I haven’t a clue. One can only hope in a moment of clarity you will find some answers for this girl who is California Dreaming.