"Book Smart"

     I imagine you are wondering what happened with my friend’s date last week.  Well, suffice to say that there will not be a second date.  The fellow may as well have come on horseback, because…he didn’t have a car!  He rode on a bus to get there. To make matters worse, he had something she didn’t bargain for-he was, shall we say, aromatic, and not in a good way.  A funny coincidence is that she found him on the same site where I found that bargain house I mentioned last week.  And no, I’m not telling. 

     I will be starting my fall semester at school next week. I was discussing my upcoming courses with 20-something son #2, and I expressed puzzlement at my class schedule. Classes start on Sept. 4^th, yet I apparently don’t have class until Sept. 6^th.  I found that odd.  So did my son, who suggested that I consult the “academic calendar”.  “What’s that?” I naively queried. I am loathe to admit this, but I didn’t know that such a thing existed.  So, as per his instructions, I navigated the school website, and sure enough, there it was…Well, guess what? Classes don’t start until Wednesday…If I hadn’t looked closely at my schedule, comparing it to the academic calendar, I would have been the only student to show up at school on Tuesday.  All of the other students, the youngsters that is, would have been at the beach enjoying themselves, unlike this clueless “semi-senior student”, who would have been wandering the campus grounds completely perplexed.  I have a 3.85 GPA! How can I not know these things?  Perhaps I fall into the category of being “book smart”.

"Miss Clairol is an Enabler"

     

      Seriously!  Would it be even remotely possible for me to successfully deny my age without her? Doubtful! 

     I sometimes peruse old photos of my mom and her sisters when they were my age.  They all looked so much older that I do. “Why is that?” you may ask.  Because they were not acquainted with Miss Clairol, of course.  They only rarely dyed their hair!  My mother would, on a rare occasion, never consistently, as I have for a number of years.  When she did, it looked so unnatural.  I believe it behooves a woman to start coloring as soon as she has too many grays to discreetly yank.  This way, people are accustomed to her signature dark hair, regardless of her age.

     Coloring my hair does present its own set of problems.  For one thing, I have to remove my glasses so as not to get hair dye on them.  That is tantamount to having my hairdresser color my hair while wearing a blindfold.  I have to wear bangs for days to hide my tinted forehead, and at times my hair looks like it was highlighted, but that is actually just where I missed.  Coloring my hair has also distorted my sense of perception.  I mistakenly perceive people with gray hair to be somewhat older than me, but I am frequently incorrect in that assessment.  This can cause me to be dismissive in the hunt for a suitor.  I don’t know how I’m going to overcome that hurdle.  Maybe I should take my glasses off…

"Indian on Horseback"

     Some of my 50 something girlfriends and I are embarking on our first sojourn into Internet dating. One daring friend is meeting a fellow for coffee this evening. Once they formulated a plan, she spent the better part of the week in preparation. She had a manicure, a pedicure, and her hair done. She adroitly planned her choice of outfits, spending a number of hours trying on different blouses, slacks, and skirts, until she found the perfect combination of flattering and fashionable. With an air of self satisfaction, she was ready to meet the potential suitor.  Her date subsequently called, and indicated that he would meet her outside of the designated coffee bar. He said she would know him by his apparel: he’d be wearing... a grey tee shirt emblazoned with a picture of an Indian riding a horse…. Aghast, my friend though to herself:  “A what???  He’s really pulling out all the stops, isn’t he?!?!?!?!”  (Personally, I have to wonder if there is some hidden male significance in his choice that we females may not be privy to.)  

     Another of our friends indicated that a fellow’s choice of apparel is not important. After all, she opined, her beau isn’t a fashion plate. Whenever they go out together, she chooses his clothes so that he doesn’t embarrass her…Correct me if I'm wrong but, isn’t this the kind of stuff we gave up when we got divorced? 

     As for me, I decided to take a look at “Our Time”, the dating site for ages 50 and up.  I perused about 8-10 photos, and found that my fierce denial of my advancing age was in serious jeopardy. Somewhat perturbed, I promptly logged off.  I am definitely going to ease my way into this…

"Too Good to be True"

     I know I should be avoiding clichés, but I deem this instance a necessity.  I was halfheartedly looking at local rentals (on a popular website which shall remain nameless) , when I found a cute little 3 bedroom house renting for only $800.00 per month.  My first thought was that the ridiculously low price had to have been a typographical error. My curiosity piqued, I Emailed the contact, and asked him to confirm the amount. I was expecting a one or two line email response confirming my suspicions, but what I received was a preposterous seventeen line work of fiction.  Red flags were raised immediately, as I found it absolutely painful to read his implausible tale. The grammar was deplorable, the sentence structure, nonexistent, the punctuation, mostly missing.  He indicated to me that the price was correct, and to make a long story short, that he was out of the country and would send me the keys, and that I should ignore the agent’s sign that was perched on the front lawn and deal with him directly. I subsequently scrutinized the picture, where I could see a fraction of the realtor’s sign, and…I recognized it. I then went on the realtor’s website and discovered that the house was, in fact, listed with them, for sale.  The scammers apparently hacked the picture and fabricated this elaborate scheme, expecting that someone would fall prey to their deception and send them money. 

     I really do want to trust people, but so many are just not trustworthy. One often reads about scams similar to this one, about how trusting people are robbed blind, especially older people.  I have now witnessed first-hand how easy it is for this to happen.  So, keep this thought in mind: if something seems too good to be true, it is most assuredly, too good to be true. 

Poetic Confusion/Bereft

  

     One hundred two and counting…That’s the number of poems and children’s rhymes that I have typed, printed, logged, and organized by genre-so far.  I knew this undertaking would be overwhelming, but I had no idea it would be this intense.  I am in the midst of an extraordinarily complicated task.  I guess I should have been organizing my works all along, instead of accumulating countless scraps of paper since…1988!  (Thankfully, for many of those years I only wrote sporadically.) Additionally, I am incorporating my current works, which adds to the enormity of the task.  There is barely room to eat at my kitchen table because it is 75% covered in my writer’s paraphernalia. (I don’t have a home office. Oh, woe is me.)

     We recently watched the movie “The Hours” in class, a story depicting author Virginia Woolf.  In one scene, she is beginning to write her novel, Mrs. Dalloway, with a pad and a pen, and surrounded by countless stacks of paper. I marvel at the level of talent, organizational ability, perseverance, and mental capacity that had to have been required at that time, when writers did not have the luxury of technology to make the task less daunting. I find it daunting, with technology.

     I wrote the following jingle as the result of a "writing Prompt" provided by my Creative Writing Professor. One evening, a man was sitting outside our classroom window peering in, arousing Professor's curiosity. Professor loved this, by the way. I hope you will find it amusing:

"Bereft"

He sat outside the classroom window, his index finger crooked.

I could not pry my gaze from him, from the moment I first looked.

He attempted to distract me, though, his motivation I did not catch.

I tried to discern his body language, while his plot, he thus did hatch.

He subsequently distracted the class. I no longer had control.

The students exited the room. It now resembles an empty hole.

In unison, they followed him. To where, I do not know.

So, now I’m sitting at my desk, bereft and all alone.

I decided to go after them, when, to my amazement, did I see,

They had all joined a marching band, which was headed right towards me!

The school declared a holiday, but failed to let me know.

My students quickly pulled me in, and marching I did go!

"A-A-A-A"

     This year has been a roller coaster ride that I would not have missed for the world.  One year ago, I walked into my local Community College with an air of uncertainty, and I tentatively registered for my first class in thirty years.  I have now completed four semesters, I have earned twelve credits, and four A’s. 

     While I do try to relate mostly humorous aspects of attending school as a 50-something, in all seriousness, I find going to school to be exhilarating, as well as challenging. My decision to return to school was one of the smartest I’ve ever made. Come on September!

     P.S. Since I will be attending school full time next semester, and I am hopeful that I will have many amusing stories to relate. Many thanks to my faithful readers! Stay tuned!

You've Come a Long Way, Baby...

Happy Anniversary to me!
I love my life of autonomy.
I have lots of friends
And the fun never ends.
It's wonderful to
Finally be free!

     This is the final week of my Summer II semester, Creative Writing.  I thoroughly enjoy  this class, but I am ready for a break before I attempt the unimaginable-I am registered for four-3 credit courses in the fall semester.  I am having difficulty envisioning myself as a full time student, but I am taking the plunge.  I have enrolled for two of my electives. English: Fiction and Film Studies; Communications: Evolution of Film, with my favorite Professor. (Have I mentioned that he reads my blog?)  Not to worry! I’m not looking to score any points here. I will always apply myself wholeheartedly in film study. In any of the classes, really. I’m too old to play games. Let’s face it, I wouldn’t bother going to school if I didn’t want to learn.  I am also registered for Dynamics of Communication and World Geography. Dynamics of Communication will entail Public Speaking, which is not exactly my strong suit.  I won’t have any trouble composing speeches, but the oral presentations will be challenging.  I am looking forward to Geography.  Since I am not a world traveler, I will be familiarizing myself with the various destinations that many of my friends visit. While I am eagerly anticipating this semester, there is a down side.  I have saved Biology, Algebra, and Political studies for later. That will be fun! Not! I also have yet to take the three requisite Communications courses. I fully expect to reach the halfway mark (to my Associates Degree) this winter, if all goes as planned. I have made some progress in the three years since my divorce...

Cabin Fever

    

     I am developing a severe case of cabin fever. One contributing factor is because Buddy, my Lab, can’t bear to be alone.  I realize that I have touched on Buddy’s anxiety a bit in the past, but, believe me when I tell you, this dog is a full blown Neurotic, with a capital N!  My scenario was exacerbated recently because 20 something son #1 and his girlfriend were away for a few days. Therefore, I have been pretty much confined to quarters, since I don’t want the dog barking and howling his fool head off, and ultimately bothering my neighbors. (I can’t very well allow Buddy to make a racket when I was so hostile to my new noisy neighbor. Don't you agree?)  My Psych professor would tell me that I am reinforcing negative behavior. Well, I suppose she would be correct in that assessment.  I have been half contemplating getting Buddy a pet, someone to keep him company when I am out. Having two dogs was more difficult in some ways (as many of you know, my Husky passed away in December), but in other ways it was much better. I had more of a life when I had two dogs, as I found it comforting knowing they weren’t lonely when I wasn’t home.  I love my dog, but I am seriously craving some human companionship.  On a positive note, being home so much has enabled me to indulge my love for movies quite a bit.  I watched “Night of the Hunter” for the first time. I had tried watching this film a couple of times previously, but I could never get into it, and ultimately gave up.  However, after having recently studied some of the different lighting techniques utilized on this film, I was intrigued. So I persevered, only to be swept off my feet! It was an absolute, edge of your seat thriller!  I strongly recommend it. I also watched “Lolita”.  In the past, I was rather ambivalent about watching this movie. However, this coming fall we will be studying the films of Stanley Kubrick in my "Evolution of Film" class.  Consequently, I watched the movie, and recorded it for future reference. I was actually pleasantly surprised.   

     Here’s a snippet of information. Shelley Winters played the female lead.  I know of four movies where she was, shall we say, eliminated.  Lolita, Night of the Hunter, and A Day in the Sun, and Poseidon Adventure. Is that because she was so annoying?  Or perhaps her annoying characteristics signify the ability of a great actress…

     Does anyone know of other films where she was killed off?  Any thoughts or comments?

"Ivy"

     Last week in class, Professor indicated that he had seen a strange woman in the hall carrying a planter of ivy. He suggested we utilize his "sighting" as a writing prompt. I did, and he liked it. I wanted to share it with you:


                                                                             "Ivy"

I noticed her carrying a planter of ivy.

I started wondering where she was bound.

She was not someone I recognized.

I had never seen her around.

The grace of her gait intrigued me,

Soon compelling me to follow.

I found her appearance to be so alluring.

She was someone that I longed to know.

I followed her out through the commons,

Then, to my horror and disbelief,

She quickly exited and headed to her car.

She was an unlikely, potted plant thief!

Comments

     I know some of you have been trying to leave comments, yet I have not been receiving them.  Again, I think it was my fault.  Hopefully I have corrected the problem and I ask that you continue trying.  Regarding the "follower" issue-it seems to work if you have a Gmail account. Click on the follower icon. I don't see followers if you use "subscribe".
Thanks for your support.

A Washout

     Our most recent day at the beach was a washout. We did everything right this time. We arrived early.  We snagged a closer parking spot.  We even remembered to bring the dolly. The weather was, initially at least, comfortable and breezy. We were thoroughly enjoying ourselves, eating muffins and drinking tea, watching the waves, when, craning my neck like a hungry owl searching for prey, I spotted some ominous looking, nearly black clouds, slowly approaching.  Being ever wary, I could not take my eyes off of them, and turned my chair so that I had a bird’s eye view. My friend, realizing that our conversation had become completely one sided, due to my obsession with the approaching storm, pulled a magazine out of her bag and began to read. I quickly snapped a few pictures to send to 30-something son, and realized the storm looked even more perilous in pictures. My friend showed scant interest as I related to her how people were beginning to leave the beach. She deemed it safe to stay as long as the red flag wasn’t raised. I deemed it somewhat safe to stay as long as I didn’t hear thunder or spot any lightning, and believe me, I was watching for it, the way an outfielder in a sunny ball park seeks a fly ball. The storm finally did arrive, and once overhead, gushed all over us, and all of the other stubborn, optimistic, beach lovers who had likewise futilely wished the storm would pass us by. Most of us gathered in an open, yet covered, area, where we could watch the storm, as well as the people fleeing it. Once the lightning and thunder started, my friend watched in amazement as I ducked behind a pillar. I tried to be discreet, but I was incapable of fooling my astute friend. Yes, I was hiding from the lightning…

Finally...

     I finally have the "following" widget fully functional. (It only took three weeks!)   If you want to follow my blog, click the "follow" icon, not subscribe. Thank you!

Pretty in Pink

     How do I describe embarrassment? Four words: hot flash in class! I am the only student in my Creative Writing class, or in any class I’ve had thus far, who suffers from hot flashes. To make matters worse, tonight, Professor gave us some handouts to use in class, since we don’t use a text book. My copies served a dual purpose-to study, of course, and as a portable cooling device. I had two hot flashes in a two hour time span, and my handouts were utilized as the fan of choice. My embarrassment was exacerbated, however, when Professor asked me to read in the midst of one…I had half of the papers in my left hand, fanning myself, and the other half in my right hand, to read from. I  meant no disrespect by using those papers in such a fashion, but I would have melted in my desk if I hadn’t. Perhaps I will buy a large bag which would accommodate my chair pad, my sweater, and a miniature portable fan, which I could bring to class with me.  Victoria’s Secret has been advertising a pretty, hot pink, limited edition bag... Wouldn’t that be a hoot?!?!?!?!