things I’d say to an ex

I like this topic. It reminds me of a poem I wrote at some point in the last year or so. Here it is:

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Love Timeline

Could I have my youth back, please?
There are boys and men I’d like to embrace.
I didn’t then because I was told that I shouldn’t.

Could I have a redo?

There are boys I wish I’d said no to,

     and one I told to go away,
     to whom I’d now say “stay.”

May I take a weapon back in time?
There’s a fella who could use a lesson or two,
     and I, more than anyone,
     can find exactly the right examples.

And I’ll take just a moment,
     to kiss that one boy on the cheek,
     before he’s taken by the flames.

And let me tell THAT young man
     that he IS worthy of his father’s legacy,
     before the water fills his lungs.

And let me whisper in that special soldier’s ear
     that he is loved and cherished,
     before he ends it with his gun.

Time, a fickle beast, refuses to yield.

I'm stuck with the choices I made,

    and the choices I was never given.

four weird traits about me

Just four? I have so many. Ugh. These prompts are starting to get on my nerves. But I’m determined to finish all thirty. I usually fizzle out on things like this. Not this time! So, four weird traits.

1. I really enjoy doing absolutely nothing, by myself. I’m perfectly happy sitting in a chair, with nobody else around, just thinking. I joke that I’m an introvert who fakes extroversion really well. When I’m around people I’m animated and engaged. But I’m happiest when it’s just me. And my dogs! I frequently get advised that I should have more activities. People who say this to me are often scheduled beyond belief. A lunch date can only be planned for “two weeks from Wednesday.” That’s fine for them, but not for me.

2. I keep lists of character names, book or chapter titles, scene descriptions and snippets of dialogue. Maybe all writers do this. These things just pop into my head. I was working on the second floor of the library last week. There were workmen changing out a small art gallery area, so random furniture had been pushed here and there. I spotted a customer sitting in a chair facing out a huge floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall window. He wasn’t reading. There were no other chairs or tables or customers near him. He was just watching the world. And if you read #1 on this list, you’ll know I was thinking how much I would like to be doing exactly what he was doing. I wrote “The Brilliance of the Man in the Orange Chair” which I will use at some point.

3. I’m socially awkward, but only in very specific ways. I’ll say something benign that is interpreted in a negative way. I won’t realize right away that I expressed the thought in a poor way. By the time I do realize what has happened, I’m frozen with mortification and can’t figure out what to do or say to fix it without sounding defensive. Because nobody perceives me as socially awkward, I come across as aloof, when all the while my brain is trying out and rejecting explanations, clarifications, apologies, and other strategies to fix my unintentional faux pas. I’m a lost cause.

4. I have hoarder tendencies which I combat with very minimalist surroundings. If I see even a hint of things piling up, I institute my Every Time Rules. Every time I get up, I must put something away. Every time I leave the house I must take something with me. Every time an item in my house reminds me of something unpleasant, I throw it away. One happy aspect of getting older is that with the object out of view, I’ll never think of it again.

I’m not reading ahead on these prompts. I’m hopeful, for my sake and for yours, that the remaining topics are less about me and more about … anything else!

some things I miss

Catching fireflies in a jar, then letting them go again.

Acrylic nails, but not the expense or the seeing-stars-pain of hitting one on a surface.

The Mom I had from 1975-2002. I never saw that woman again.

Crane onion skin writing paper & envelopes in canary yellow.

My guitars.

My cousins Bobby, Catherine and Beth.

Good Humor Chocolate Eclair Ice Cream on a stick.

Full-sized toilet paper rolls.

Thin Mints - original size, three sleeves in a box.

Hill Street Blues.

Playing backgammon with college buddies.

Sam, when he was a newborn, 3 years old and 6 years old.

My dogs - Belle, Peanut, Jennifer, Sunshine, and C.R.

My cats - Ninja, Angel, Nicole, and Joe.

The excitement and joy of Christmas mornings as a child.

Cap'n Crunch cereal.

My Slip 'n' Slide.

Pittman Park UMC.

Montreat, NC.

Knowing my brothers.

a family member I dislike

There is no family member I dislike. There are family members with whom I disagree on major issues such as politics, religion, and social privilege. And there are a few family members who (I think) dislike me, or simply don’t understand me. And more with whom I have very little in common. But I can think of no one I dislike.

So, where do I go from here? The whole premise of this prompt is to motivate me to give rich detail about why I don't like a specific family member, or to describe a series of precipitating events that led to a Hatfield/McCoy situation. So what does one do in the absence of familial hostility?

Ah, this, from Gloria Steinem: “Happy or unhappy, families are all mysterious. We have only to imagine how differently we would be described – and will be, after our deaths – by each of the family members who believe they know us.”

I believe that only a handful (or two) of people really know me. And most of them are not family. I created a family of friends who know me and love me. So perhaps the same is true for everyone else in my family. I think I know them, but I don’t.

And the family members I think don’t like me? If I'm right, I think it’s because they don’t know me at all. They’ve inherited a dislike from other family members who think they know me, but don’t.

But being liked isn’t critically important to me. Being honest and authentic, and having the courage to speak my truth is important to me. Sometimes there's a heavy price for that.

I do wish I could spend more time with family, especially those I don’t know well. Maybe in retirement! And who knows? Maybe time will yield deeper relationships than I currently think are possible. Wouldn't that be sweet?

my morning routine (fiction?)

My first thought every morning is coffee. But I have to take the dogs out first. And they need their breakfast. Priscilla had too many months on the streets scrounging for food to ever be relaxed about meals. She is frantic for breakfast, shivering with anxiety and excitement, barking if I don't move fast enough.

Then I put water on to boil. I need one cup of coffee in the morning - Columbian drip. Yes. And breakfast of some sort.

Next move is a toss-up. If I'm working that day, I think about what I'll wear. I might start a load of laundry. Will I need lunch or a snack? How much time do I have? Do I need to wash my hair? Once I'm ready for work, I read or play on the computer until it's time to go. Sometimes I write.

If I'm not working, I'll pull the zandikyn and contact the mother ship. I'm required to report on any significant contacts with humans and provide coordinates for last known locations of my partners. This can take some time if they're probing for details or collecting biological samples.

Next, I drive over to Alice Cooper's house. We play Skip-Bo (my favorite) and Caroms (his favorite.) We might go for a swim. I record our conversations for the book I'm writing. He will talk extemporaneously with very little prompting from me. Sometimes we take little road trips - to the Brass Armadillo or to hit some golf balls. Then it's time for lunch!

That's it!

does my zodiac sign fit me?

Libra. And my name is Catherine. I like a man who's bold; a man who's not afraid to be original. And if that's you, come with me. Take my hand. Come with me, baby, to Love Land. Let me show you how sweet it could be ...

OOPS. Sorry, I was floating on for a minute there.

No. I don't think my zodiac sign fits me. I think zodiac signs are manufactured nonsense. I've seen this proven multiple times. If you take descriptions of each sign and remove obvious clues, such as "bull-headed" for Taurus, "balanced" for Libra, and "two sides of you" for Gemini, any description can fit just about anyone.

But it's fun to play with. Not that I do. I can't remember the last time I even looked at it. Let me go do that now ...

Now THIS is spooky. My horoscope for today. "Words from you carry a bigger punch than you sometimes acknowledge. Many more people listen to you than you realize. Be careful with what you say and write. One of your readers will send you $5,000."

Just kidding. I wrote that. Let me go read it, for real.

"Connect with the stabilizing force of the day, Libra. It's important for you to keep at least one foot on the ground, as powerful and intense emotions are likely to try to take over the scene. This is a good time to do things with passion."

Okay. Will do. I always do!

Or was this the horoscope for Pisces? Hee hee!

music shuffle

The instructions are, "Put your music player on shuffle and write the first 3 songs that play and what your initial thought is."

1. 'S Wonderful - Joao Gilberto. His version is very sensual. My first thought is that I wish my lover was here. He's still at work. But the night is still young. Maybe I'll still get lucky.

2. Twisted - Joni Mitchell. Hilarious. This is my theme song, so of course it popped up. I was just talking to a friend about this song a few weeks ago.

3. Trouble No More - Allman Brothers. Well, this band takes me back to the happy parts of my adolescence. It was always the music.

five fears

1. Alligators. I have no idea when this became a thing for me. I've always had a vivid imagination. My ability to supply awful detail to every potential tragedy means that I have about two hundred potential imagined scenarios in which I am snatched by an alligator, drowned and eaten for lunch. Last year when we were looking at a possible relocation to Miami, we fell in love with a rental property on a canal. I told the real estate agent about my morbid fear of alligators. He said, "It's Florida. You're on the water. There are gators. But they're more likely to snatch your dogs." Nope! Couldn't do it!

2. Dying alone. I have no doubt there will be people around me if I die of cancer or old age. But I live alone. So I imagine a slip and fall at the beginning of three days off. I don't always answer my phone. How long would it take for someone to come check on me? Again, my imagination is not my friend.

3. Donald Trump as our president. Yikes! No imagination is necessary. He says it all. Terrifying.

4. The number four. In Japan, the number four is viewed in the same way we view the number thirteen. The character for four sounds like the character for death. Some buildings don't have a fourth floor. Maternity wards in hospitals avoid the number four. I somehow internalized this during my early childhood in Japan.

5. Schroedinger's Rapist. Every man is not a rapist. Most men are not rapists. As women, we can't tell by looking who is and who isn't. Therefore, caution is a necessary evil. And the fear is very real.

I have other fears that aren't quite as prominent. My imagination provides me with endless opportunities to be afraid. The fact that I step out into the world is sufficient proof to me that I'm brave. But you will notice, I'm sure, that there are very few alligators in Phoenix. Or in Canada, if Trump is elected!

my favorite color and why

Purple. I've always loved purple. Purple was an unusual clothing choice when I was young. Only my hippy friends wore purple. So I associated the color with freedom of expression and a let it all hang out mentality. When I wore purple, I felt zany and happy. I can still remember specific items of purple clothing from that time period.

The first time I read the poem "Warning" by Jenny Joseph, I recognized myself, except for the part about the sobriety of my youth. I don't think I had a particularly sober youth. But I loved the idea of doing unexpected things as an older woman. My best friend actually bought me a framed copy of the poem done in calligraphy.

I decided I would buy an entire purple wardrobe, one piece at a time, tossing my non-purple things along the way. I figured by the time I was forty, I'd be known as The Purple Lady. I liked that thought. I imagined myself as Auntie Mame - in purple.

But then that poem was used as the basis for the Red Hat Ladies craze that swept the country. You'd see groups of older ladies in restaurants, all wearing purple outfits and red hats. I gave up my all purple idea. It would hardly be a signature look if half the country was doing it. But it made me sad.

There is one other choice that appealed to me. Paisley. I liked the look on people's faces when I gave that as an answer for the favorite color question. It was unexpected. I actually heard it in song lyrics. Carole King? Melissa Manchester? I've looked for it, but couldn't find who sang "Paisley is my color." But I appreciated the intent.

I'm a kaleidoscope. My internal colors change. So paisley suits me with its swirl and its endless color combination possibilities. But an entire wardrobe of paisley? I'm not quite zany enough to pull that off. But I can imagine at least one or two items in purple paisley.

I'll just have to wait out the Red Hat Ladies. I'll reclaim purple when I'm older.

a quote I try to live by

"Never put a raisin where a chocolate chip could go."

I don't recall where I originally read or heard those words, but they resonated right away. The phrase became a mantra of sorts. And it works on so many levels.

On the surface, it's chocolate chips. I love 'em. They're delicious, even if you're using Nestle semi-sweet. But go up a notch and use Callebaut or Scharffen Berger to get a real treat. Or even better, try Trader Joe's chocolate chips.

But look at that quote another way. It can also mean "Don't settle." You deserve to be happy. If you're not happy doing what you're doing, do something different. There is no requirement that you stay where you are or keep doing what you're doing. Just because you initially started with raisins doesn't mean you can't trade them in for chocolate chips.

And finally, in your quest to be coupled, don't settle for a raisin. Wait for the chocolate chip. And remember, raisins sometimes look like chocolate chips. Don't take a huge bite, thinking you've found a chocolate chip, only to find you're stuck with a raisin. Go slow. Ask questions. Examine things with a clear head. If it's a raisin, walk away slowly. You deserve better than that.