Friends are kind and try to set me up with dentists from Orange County, film directors, wholesome-looking next door neighbors. I am amused by it but frankly I have no interest. My daughter asks if I would become a lesbian instead. The thought has crossed my mind, briefly. I can't think of anything worse than going through the awkward path to intimacy, the social niceties one has to go through to get to know someone properly, the worry of whether or not to get botox in order to look twenty years younger, or whether your jiggly bits are showing. The closest bump of intimacy was having my hair cut today by a handsome young Italian, who blew warm air into my face as if I was Ann-Margret in an Elnet commercial, and fluffed up my hair with his fingers until I resembled a well-tousled terrier. Ruff ruff. He was also gay which was far easier to handle. I know this because he wore a woman's green and turquoise silk scarf around his neck, which I complimented him on. June, who was having her hair cut at the same time said something very grown up like "phwoar" as I followed him upstairs to the private rooms and gave her a wink worthy of a footballer's wife.
I'm thinking a nice fireman who would throw me over his shoulder and take me to his truck might be in order. I can play the damsel in distress very well. Also, a stubbly beard, strong hands, a broad chest and not a very large vocabulary.
Everyone says -- all my girlfriends, even my mother -- 'oh your life is going to be so much better; this is the beginning of a new adventure' and I smile and I think, but what about the old age I'd dreamed of, where we held hands and read books on the beach as the sun set, or the tomatoes we'd tend together, or the walking tours of Venice we promised we'd go on? What do you do when someone who knows you that well -- knows every single inch of you and purports to love it all -- walks out? What do you do when it's their dream they're following and not your dream? How do you not look particularly pathetic and needy and bereft when you're not really that kind of person?
Who was it that said there is a Paul Simon song for every occasion. The Mississippi delta sounds like a pretty good adventure.
And so I move on to more. "There's a girl in New York City calls herself a human trampoline." More life, more love and, I guess, more separateness.
See you on the bright side. Onward. Sunlight.
PS. Reasons to be cheerful:
Spiders on drugs
Riding horses first thing in the morning
Disney Hall by night (see this)