The pandemic has infiltrated our dreams as well as our daily waking lives. When u r under an umbrella, all encompassing stressor, that may even destroy u, whether by death or permanent disability, i.e. “long COVID,” which has a constellation of symptoms…well, u can’t escape the fact that this existential threat has to be put into perspective, in some way, or else it’ll harm u in ways u can’t imagine. No one can be in a constant state of “fight or flight,” as in adrenal gland pumping out stress hormones like cortisol. U will go into massive inflammatory response internally, and that isn’t any good 4 u. U have to reach some internal accommodation w your stressors, also known as homeostasis. I do have a scientific background, as u can see, w this vocabulary and explanation. And that makes me proud of who I am, that my background is rich in language and culture, science, tech, volunteerism, skills like photography, writing, arts like cooking, so many things! But enough now about me. I am saying so just so u don’t look at me as a life failure, because the culture that I am part of ascribes enormous significance to your physical appearance. I AM SO MUCH MORE THAN MY BODY APPEARANCE!! And so r u, as well. And conversely, my profession is not the totality of who I am either. My tendrils of a beautiful tapestry weave into many lives, over the decades I am alive, and will even do so possibly post my live existence, because of this blog and other writings I have made. I reach into the future even. I hope my story will be helpful to others, via the eternal internet.

But back to dreams. Your subconscious mind tries to make sense of this change in life circumstances, in order to deal better w it. People have found escape in dreams, whether they be sexual, as in discharging anxiety thru physical orgasm, a preferred method of dealing w a lack of a real partner, or even in place of someone u r with in life, who isn’t cutting it 4 u exclusively, or the ordinary symbolic dreams w need for interpretation of how it all fits together. Many people have also suffered nightmares that intensify their anxiety even, re the pandemic, or other stressors. We r tired by now, well, good and tired, as we have entered the 2nd year of the Pandemic Blues. This means some r just flouting the CDC public guidelines, by burning masks, avoidance of usage, not socially distancing, screaming out on social media how it is all bunk…and no more compliance! And also r delaying and obfuscating the need to get the vaccine, w excuses, concerns, anecdotal reports of bad bad side effects post vaccine, worries of the long term safety of same….any excuse will do. Stay in, day in, day out, go out only for necessities, do not see anyone anymore, either as friends, or for business reasons, even maintenance deferred. No one is safe! I know of shut ins like this, here in NYC. They break my heart.

Will u be able to resume normal life even eventually when significant numbers of people refuse to get the available vaccines?? Will we ever achieve herd immunity when so many millions just REFUSE?? IT IS TRULY A DYSTOPIAN NIGHTMARE. Can u live in a society where the disease continues at a broad clip to consume lives, w many millions more who have brain fog, tiredness, nausea and vomiting, joint aches, movement troubles, a constellation of mental illness, dementia, stroke, heart disease, it goes on and on…blood clots. Pick your poison. Some proportion of those afflicted w long COVID will be unable to work again, ever, permanently disabled. And your insomnia will also ramp up, as u cannot relax anymore in your isolation, your veritable oblivion. How long can u sustain that?? Well, as 4 me, I urge literally EVERYONE to get their vaccine(s), when that is possible 4 them. Not only 4 u, but 4 your broader community. Your dreams and sleep depend on it too, to reduce your inner stress.

I urge sexual dreams to everyone, to release your pent up miseries. There’s really nothing so good as an orgasm, to make u want 2 live! And use your chocolate sparingly, w it, or in waking time. Get pleasure, while u can. Your very life may depend on it, especially now. When your husband dreams of sex, it isn’t his fault, even if he dreams of another person. We r complex beings w strong appetites after all, and u can’t hold him responsible 4 his subconscious desires. I personally do not believe that any man can be exclusively solo w his partner 4ever in this way; it’s contrary to nature. He will see others and want them; it’s just a fact. Be glad that he inhibits his desire, in deference 2 u, and your marriage. That has to be enough, ladies. They aren’t wired as we r, after all. The mere thought of sexuality w another person is just something u have 2 tolerate. Enjoy, my friends! And pleasant dreams.

I will close w another form of media mention, even tho I lack the copyright to said song: “Dreams” is a magnificent song by the group Fleetwood Mac, w Stevie Nicks singing lead on that one. Love it! And it went platinum again not long ago, because a guy on a skateboard was drinking Ocean Spray cranberry juice straight from a 2 quart container, singing happily w this song in the background! And he made a fortune from that video too! Booya! That was also pleasurable to this hedonistic woman, who dreams lustily often. Such a waste to lose such a resource to the world, guys. Some folks can never get enough. Even in an arid desert of desire.

The Pain of Love

None of us want to read a tale of woe, unless it is a love story gone bad, with which we feel better about our own situation because of a wonderfully German word called schadenfreude. Schadenfreude is that feeling of joy that someone else’s romantic misfortunes make us feel better about our own fates, or as in “pleasure derived from another person’s misfortune.” So it is not merely in matters of the heart therefore, but also other areas of life, like finance, business, etc. But the notion of taking pleasure from other people’s pain is sort of devilish, evil, like goading someone, flirting, making one think that one stood a chance, w someone that sadly, only one of two fall in love. And so, all is lost.

Literature and movies r full of such scenes of ill tidings, break ups, menage a trois, which is incompatible w the human heart’s need to give and receive in equal measure, like a happily married couple, not instead what is known today as polyamory. I recently posted about a set of 3 houses in Brooklyn filled w young people who prior to the pandemic were happily ensconced in orgies! But when u r told that u need to socially distance, mask and disinfect yourself about 20x per day, this has a chilling effect around casual sex. The only person u might safely avail yourself of will be your spouse, your live-in partner, or at the very least, an honest person, who is concerned for your safety, not merely his own orgasm. So that precludes casual getting together in that way, not even kissing, or even hugs, touching of any sort is taking progressive risks…and so, the pandemic left us in this quandary of being unable to date, safely, because how can u know that u r safe, or that the other person is safeguarding your safety too? Even one encounter can be too much. How exposed r u?

And the disease, if u r unfortunate, and at risk, particularly, due to significant medical conditions, u run the risk of dying alone, or in your house, unable even to reach a phone, or in a hospital, all hooked up, waiting to die, alone….except for these very exhausted, overworked nurses, who feel terrible that this is your fate. And still, w now as of today, USA has over 400,000 dead, and leads the world in death count as well, an ignominious distinction….coming apart at the seams, w US citizens wanting blood from each other, in Insurrection, a populace gone amok! What happened to civility, and taking your licks, accepting that the majority wanted something other than what u did? We went thru this too, when Donald Trump was elected. Surely, u can swallow your discontent, and give the incoming Joe Biden Administration a chance. But even now, Fortress Washington DC, w the largest contingent of National Guardsmen and women, local police, supplemented by other state forces, Secret Service, u name it, they have it there, and also around every single statehouse, because we r expecting trouble from violent malcontents, some of whom r still at large, from the Insurrection, and their cohorts. Sounds like a master plan 4 Civil War, as Donald Trump spends his last full day in office, issuing some 100 more pardons to convicted felons, on the Federal level. We give thanks however that he kept quiet for these last days in, and did not launch any nuclear bombs, or start new wars. We prayed it might be so, for the sake of our beloved, tho bloody, nation.

I will cite movies that r beloved to me, which hold a special place in my heart, for I am a victim of love, overall. Some of my favorites r all love gone awry: Casablanca, Gone With the Wind, Titanic, Les Miserables, especially unrequited Eponine, for Marius Pontmercy…Love Story, The Fault in Our Stars, Moulin Rouge! It goes on and on…A Star is Born, La La Land, Romeo & Juliet, Call me By Your Name, A Walk to Remember, Boys Don’t Cry, My Best Friend’s Wedding, The Notebook. Cinema is full of a good cry, re love. Does your beloved perish from disease, or from the proverbial broken heart? Maybe the body follows the mind, w its unremitting torturous non-ending loss, that becomes more weighty w time, as the body gets sicker, and the mind too, for want of what can never be had. At some point, death becomes preferable to living w this.

And so it is for the USA also. As a microcosm of grief at not having achieved the most important thing in life, my nation is also convulsing now. The greater macrocosm of destruction and its seeds, in all of our collective, thorny hearts, adds up to a dead towering tree, now swept away, on a hurricane wind, toppled over, onto our houses, mountains, hearts…and we r the cause, by our collective hatred, of each other.

Only love can heal us. Both me, in my misery, and my country, w forbearance, justice, gratitude, and peace. May the cancer in America be killed! Before it’s too late. Give peace a chance- John Lennon. All We Need is Love.- The Beatles. Sometimes in order to heal yourself, u have to go to the lowest rung of hell first. And that is where u lived a long life, w at least some earlier experiences of real love, some consolation…and yet, it is indefinable and profoundly unfair that a good kind person should be so snubbed. Even while they languish in their own collective Hells, in another dungeon: the one called Unhappy Matrimony. But yet, they stay there, w their gruel and cold, bitter hearts, because they can’t see any way out that they can live with.

But yet, I always tell people, “Don’t Cry 4 Me, Argentina!” And what I mean is it could have yet been way worse. Maybe I would have been born w a disfigurement, of the face, or spina bifida (a spinal deformation, which cripples) or osteogenesis imperfecta, where bones break from everyday activities…or I could have been burned in a house fire, when I was but a small girl…a million things could have gone wrong. But they stayed far enough away, while I watched others close to me, succumb. I have seen and felt too much, perhaps. Despite all of this griping, I have had a wonderful life. I just feel so so much, all around me. Not just me, but those whom I am close to. I feel their pain, worse than my own. It is known as the gift of Intersession. To stand in for someone else’s grief, take it on, and expiate 4 it, like Jesus did, tho not in such grandiose fashion as to torture and Crucifixion. I feel like I am a sacrifice for others, besides myself. Maybe there will be a reward some day, when I go to the other side. I hope so. I am also unworthy of the gifts given me, which r many. I want to pass them on, that they belong to those whom I love. And in deference to an original series Star Trek episode, called The Empath, am I Gem? Forced to take on the men’s severe pains, in order to prove my worth to these God-like creatures, who maim and kill others?? (But not to liken our real God, Yahweh, to those aliens!) Our God is kind, and compassionate, even if we do not understand His whole purpose 4 us.

Love in the Time of Corona

So u think that all the travel, movies, indoor eating at restaurants, theater, plays, musicals, concerts, ballet, symphony, even outdoor sports, all group events r just GONE?! POOF! Not even sacred rituals like funerals, weddings, baptisms, bar mitzvahs, graduation ceremonies…if they happen at all, they will be socially distanced, like cars honking down a street, or parked in a drive in, because indoor movies r just GONE! What do we do? No touch either, unless u r coupled, living together, low risk, because u know what exposure each partner has to The Plague. And most of all, trust. That is the secret to long life. Do u have someone who u love and trust, who is committed 2 u?

Let me tell u, dating in the time of Corona just sucks. U have to assess every damned candidate w a frigging list of questions, like to see if they have an STD (of which there r innumerable common ones), not only who they bed and how often, but also who they tongue kiss..AND exposure prophylaxis as well…any known exposure to an active patient w The Plague…and also contact w the public, as an essential worker, say a teacher, w little germ factory students, running in and out of rooms, day in, day out, even if it’s only 2 days a week…yup, hi risk. When did u last test 4 COVID?

Time to go invest in sex toy companies, methinks! I’d expect sales to go thru the roof as people think of bodily needs and life risk re Corona. And apps and lies, and bullshit, and just casual sleep overs, just casual kisses at gas stations, one time, tongue kiss, doesn’t count?! Yeah, it does. If u kiss, u might as well fuck. As to Corona passage. Please pardon the language, but I’m mad. Mad as hell! And when mad as hell, well, I yell “FUCK!” That’s the Bronx side of me, mince no words, and spew it out, my vitriol. I love the F word actually, it’s so expressive, even tho vulgar. My friends know me well. Tho I can and do control the usage, it depends on my audience. I like to shock people too.

When I tell tales of many construction men up on the scaffolding out my windows, all surrounding said apartment, they wonder if I am flashing those workers! Because I like to be about my home naked, as it’s a rare pleasure that others don’t have. When u r alone, u can do just about anything in your space. Pretty much. Complete freedom. No snores either, bed when u want. Sleep naked in a cool bedroom. Draw the shades. Sleep fitfully. My isolation is a good thing in terms of Corona. Much less likely to get hit up. Go out only when necessary. Or do so because frigging stir crazy! And assess precautions taken in the places u deem safe enough to frequent. I have been traveling, only exclusively by car, this summer.

Places driven to: Atlantic City, NJ, once down, one more to go; Uncasville and New Canaan, CT; Fishkill and Wappingers Falls, NY; and soon to come, a first time to stay: Montauk, NY, on Long Island. More mileage than usual, because flying seems too sinister still, even tho the airlines r trying like hell to clean their cabins, and use good filters, BUT u will sit next to a stranger, no matter where u sit on a plane, and that is dangerous. And people act out w the prohibition against removing your mask…so if a flight attendant demands u wear it, real trouble is brewing, because Americans couldn’t give a flying fuck what u say, including wear your frigging mask! All flight long??!! But I can’t breathe wearing it! I actually bought a pulse oximeter to measure my oxygen saturation level wearing a variety of masks I have purchased. And one of them actually reduced my oxygenation to a critical level! And this mask was issued by Plainview Hospital, on Long Island…and I would have passed out had I kept it on, actually. My O2 sat was at a mere 72%, when u need to be at 95-100%. Unreal. Garbage then, once I saw.

But back to sex in the time of Corona. Articles in the media mention that 20 and 30 somethings r still getting it on, casually, even tho they recognize it’s even more fraught now. U need like a 20 question interview in order to safely hook up. And then, what? Once only? All that effort in order to screw once, and let it be, no more…seems like wasted effort. I think Corona is going to tighten up sexual mores into the before times, like the 1950’s, in these United States of America. It was a time of if a guy wanted regular sex, he was pushed into marriage, as the only reasonable, socially sanctioned custom, in order to propagate the species, but also in order to just, damn it, get off! And women were taught to keep their legs tight before the ring is on that finger, at least. So there wasn’t too much hanky panky going on then. And the churches, and the synagogues and the mosques taught that the only ok way to get what u needed, re sex, was via marriage.

I know it sounds draconian, especially to today’s youth, who r so inured to sex now, that they don’t think that a tongue kiss is equal to intercourse, but in the time of Corona, hell yes, it is! Same transmission from both orifices, ladies and gents. And they actually believe that post Bill Clinton’s romp, oral sex doesn’t count as sex either! Hell, if a President says that, under oath, no less, well, it must be that oral sex is just whack. Doesn’t count, nope. Even when the dress is stained w semen on it.

So what is a single girl to do? One w a major league sex drive? Well, those sex toys don’t talk back, don’t need Viagra, and can be made safe by washing….what a life! One of my uncles died and we cleaned out his house, and we found oodles of videotapes of pornography…and frankly, that is reasonable, when u haven’t got a partner. He died unfulfilled however. More’s the pity.

In the 1950’s America however, a major segment of the population was disenfranchised w regard to sexuality, and this has changed, a lot, since then. I speak of the gay contingent of LGBTQ+ people. Back then, a person was led to believe that if u perchance were gay, u had to keep it silent, buttoned up, 4ever. The only acceptable outlet was heterosexual marriage, consistent w all major religions’ belief systems as well. So many of those poor souls were denying themselves, and pushing a square peg into a round hole, which didn’t really fit, in order to conform to the societal standard, and not bring shame on the family. And those wives, and those children, who resulted from said unions, were made into caricatures of themselves also, as they did not know, even unto death do us part, the truth…and it had life repercussions on whether they ever mated, or got remarried, and the sexual activity was also not reciprocally enjoyable, not by a long shot. I speak first hand of this, having had several important members of my own family be both out and closeted gay. I have outed some of them in my writing before this, but I will keep it quiet 4 this one, who they r.

Do the gays who r young now go out and do the 20 questions, some of which differ, like do u do PreP? PreP is a drug only for male gays which reduces risk of getting HIV. Some folks r even blasé about HIV today, as there r many drugs that r multiples of ingredients, in one pill, a cocktail of sorts, to keep the virus at bay…so they feel like what’s the big deal if I get HIV now?? But Corona is that new boogie man, and it feels like your worst nightmare, not being able to breathe, because of a million chemical reactions in that wizened body, waiting to die. Watch out, all u active sex types…the Corona is The Loch Ness Monster, coming in the night, to eat u, in a way that u really don’t want to be eaten.

As 4 me, I’ll survive, likely, just because I know my infection control regimen, plus this isolation is actually reducing my risk, so if I wait it out, maybe till vaccine development, well, maybe then life will be worth living again. I am uncertain, but I assign life goals slowly, deliberately, w great precision, as to what matters. And I hold out hope, that intangible, that propels us. In the meantime, buy those sex toy stocks.

Evergreen in the Rain

I just LOVE rainy afternoons, all lazy, thick bands of clouds forming grey and dark, foreboding, w the eeriness of the tree branches blowing, and a thickness of the bands of sweat forming on passerby cheeks and necks…on a humid, sultry NYC afternoon, just u, me, and our thoughts 4 company, amidst a controlled chaos of sorts. And u hear the thunder echo in the distance and perchance actually see the lightning spikes, but NYC is messed up, as too many buildings in close proximity often obscures the sky.

To have an open vista view of NYC is to live like a Queen or King, as such is not being built, except for the monstrously wealthy who can afford sky and water views of skyscraper residences on tony areas of midtown and elsewhere. Such views merit prices in the millions for a mere 1 bedroom, concierge building…the ordinary people have obscured views of bricks and mortar, concrete and if u r fortunate, some tree plantings.

So in order to feel less imprisoned, and actually get a view, u head out, to vacation escapes, where u stay in hi rise hotels, w views overlooking said water and skyline, perhaps a direct view of incredible sunset…happiness is your playground. A pool to walk to, only for hotel guests; a spa, which because of COVID restrictions still requires masks be worn, but ok, we r in it to be respectful and concerned 4 our fellow man. And a massage, wow! How is that possible when NYC doesn’t even allow indoor dining yet?! Hands on tired and aching muscles, joints, backs and even your scalp, it feels so heavenly to be touched again! Even 4 hire as such.

All u need is to look 4 it online, and seek, ye shall find…Gaming and exquisite dining, serious precautions to look for re keeping the virus at bay, but because gamblers tend to lose, the casinos can afford the extra precautions to keep their properties safe. And we can catch up on our summer reading, juicy gossip re the POTUS in the past, percolating his upbringing, which as u can imagine, was horribly abusive. How else to explain this travesty of a man occupying the Oval Office today? Hey, give him a break: no one w a sociopathic father, absentee or unconcerned mother, aunts and cousins all pitted against a poor little dumpling kid, who did not measure up, sufficiently…what can happen? Either death by alcoholism, too soon, or drugs, or mental aberrations of finding a way to withstand the abuse and neglect all around u, for years on end…U do not emerge unscathed, no one does. I can tell u that.

Murderers r usually made, not born. The trouble is u have the power of life and death over others as Commander in Chief. The nuclear codes r things u hold, and the “football” is that locked briefcase, held by Secret Service near the POTUS, at all times, just in case. So much power. And a personality disorder holding that power. I am eating up that verboten book by Dr Mary Trump. When I can read it, being too busy most of the time, blogging like this, or running my household. Or escaping to my desired sunset. Or cooking, drawing, talking w friends, a million other priorities like voting for America’s Got Talent, now in the live finals rounds, w no audience but 4 ZOOM. And the TV audience. All separated, like always. I lament that my liked news anchor Lester Holt closes with nightly, “Take care of yourself and each other.” And knowing that each other implies family in your home, of which I have none, except the spirits of those now departed. But I cheer up and remember that my family is chosen, my friends, whom I love dearly, and they love me, which is quite rare nowadays. We just live distances from each other. And being alone does not mean that I take all comers on, nope. I relish my solitude and my freedom a lot. I will not bend to the vicissitudes of the current situation. I have my standards, and tho I might opine that leaving my home country might be a better life, I know that that won’t be my fate. My friends r my family, and it is 4 them that I live. I need to remain within a certain geographical proximity to them. And if alone, so be it. Better it is so than to be w an egghead!

I will not marry up or even consider people who r too dissimilar from myself. It is ironic that while u can want a certain type of person, anyone who knocks on your door will not do. I have actually been sought after repeatedly, but always the wrong types. I need someone who is at least my equal intellectually, w certain educational levels of attainment. At least working, w a middle income, and not looking for a sugar mama, to provide everything. Someone who feels good about themselves, who is within a certain age range, who does not live too far…and who will accept me for who I am, imperfect. And if it be my fate to remain unwed, so be it too. I accept God’s will, knowing that all will not be granted anyone. All in all, I got more than most. And I intend to spread it far and wide to my loves, in whatever form that takes.

I will close w a thought of a beautiful song by Barbra Streisand: Evergreen. So incredible!

Flowers & Chocolate

Today’s Valentine’s Day in the USA and other countries as well, by virtue of commercialism and a reason to feature certain products for your lovers, to spur sales of flowers and chocolate, jewelry, give away appliances and trips on game shows, plus the obligatory weddings and proposals, on TV, in Times Square despite the bitter cold, no coats on even, and just a veil against the whoosh, possibly being swept away by the wind, not your newly married spouse. Remember in sickness and in health, as u swore an oath, publicly, to those folks out there, and your spouse.

Those of us who have never had a proposal in so many words, even if it was close to that, like promises to go shopping for an engagement ring next day, together….but it was mere opportunism, because a guy saw a good deal 4 himself, and figured a $2K diamond ring was a good deal vs sleeping alone w sleep apnea 4evermore, not even knowing that, because no one slept w him! Yeah, hungry 4 sex, and a maid, and someone to watch over him, to check his skin, assess his health problems, and be a cure all to a low standard of living in the ghetto Bronx, at the time…I was his ticket out! But this girl is wide openly aware of schemes, and tricks, and manipulation, so it didn’t last, even past that one night spent together…

I took him home and said bye, rather than be a fool. I am a strong, independent woman, perhaps jaded, wise, but fortunate also, to know what words r said, and which aren’t, to know the inner meaning, and to see those who would be actually good, in truth, and those who r rank opportunists…I have noted that had my own parents had had this ability, I would not even have been born. How ironic! They found the situation more tolerable than spending 4ever w their parents picking at their emotional wounds.

The man in question was a nurse’s aide at Montefiore Hospital in the Bronx, caring 4 my father, right near the end of his life it turned out, as he was post-op from total hip replacement surgery, w many other co-morbidities at the time. He was 82 yrs old. He wanted me, all right. I was flattered and watching it, as I visited my father, and we grew closer over the course of several weeks. He was upwardly mobile, studying on his laptop also, as nurse’s aide isn’t a viable career to pay the rent in the Bronx even. U need a roomie or a spouse, or someone to share with. Even in walk-ups, w intermittent hot water and intermittent heat outages being common, boil water on the stove, pour into a stopped up sink, and wash from that, a whore’s bath we called it, that strategic smelly body part wash at a sink, crouched over, splashing water everywhere, w washcloth in hand, a lick and a promise…too many times myself w that too, over many many years of degradation as such.

Freezing cold houses as the boiler broke when it got extremely cold, and tenants get sick, and die even, from the roaches’ carcasses under sinks, walls, causing potentially fatal asthma, in the defenseless children, and u get sick over and over again, because New York is dark and dank, and freezing, if u r poor, living in the Bronx, w no viable way out….and every infection leads to further damage, permanent, of lungs, despite not being a smoker myself, but having lived repeatedly w other smokers, parents, boyfriends of mother, roomies at college, when that was permissible…and asbestos at various jobs, including as a nurse at St. Ann’s School, where I served, caring for the local children, walking up many stairs daily there, inhaling all the time, white flaking asbestos…so my lungs r my ticking time bomb, of no fault of my own….multiple pneumonias, COPD chronic bronchitis, spirometry annually, inhaler, being unable to exert anymore because of those damned lungs, which I cannot escape, because it was 4 too long, and now it’s too late. I was in the Bronx mostly from 1964 until 2011, but for stints at colleges near and far, and a 1 year experiment in Miami FL.

I will be laid to rest at Woodlawn Cemetery , near where I spent the greater chunk of my life, because it’s non-sectarian, and very beautiful there, a National Historic Landmark, a point of local pride, and also because my mom and I lived near it, and we will die w separate religions, officially, so we needed a place where our division was not an issue, as there it isn’t. She died in 2014. I have a friend who wants to go w me there, to visit, and we will, next spring, as the trees r so lovely blooming then, and the grounds r very welcoming. I put up a vase on the mausoleum, of marble, so beautiful, filled w artificial flowers, in memory, because mom always bought me flowers and chocolate 4 Valentine’s day, in commiseration of not having a boyfriend or a husband, but I am that strong, independent woman, aware of all forms of love in this life, even while I lament the lack of THE ONE.

I JUST WANTED MY LOVE TO BE THE ONE WHO WOULD HOLD ME CLOSE AND KISS ME, EVEN ONCE, BEFORE I DIE. It isn’t right that only my dear beloved passed mother is the only one who could be the substitute love. I deserved better than that, even if it can’t be.

But also, very grateful 4 those close friends who r my consolation, and they r not fickle, nor opportunists, they just love pure and simple, 4ever, and they r my reason 4 going on. Tonight’s a great way to celebrate life: Hotel California, The Eagles, live in concert, NYC, w a dear friend who also loves them…just a song, let’s see…I Can’t Tell U Why, the Eagles. Or You’re My Best Friend, but that’s Queen.

Moulin Rouge!

20191027_182956Opened in Paris in October 1889, and still in operation today as a cabaret venue, with its Can Can Spectacular Spectacular! It’s made to be over the top, and still is. Even an elephant dressing room, a blue elephant!

Then Baz Luhrmann, an Australian filmmaker, decided to become its movie director, and the film was out in May 2001, in the USA, w big stars in the lead roles, Ewan McGregor and Nicole Kidman, star crossed lovers, because she has sold herself to a rich Duke, who keeps the cabaret afloat financially. He wants power 4 his $, and he gets that, and so much more. Satine, the lead chanteuse of the Moulin Rouge, who dances, strips, and lays her life down, and even her very safety forfeit, plus that of anyone in her love sphere as well…because the Duke, Your Grace, is an incubus incarnate, intent on having everything, every ounce of Satine…or else she will be disfigured by acid thrown in face and her lover exsanguinated by garrote! That means his throat cut ear to ear, in front of her! Such horror. He is an evil man, and Satine is owned by him, because she is a prostitute back then. Such were opportunities 4 women’s careers in 19th century France. Les Miserables indeed.

So she takes up her cross and dances and more 4 the Duke, hoping he doesn’t grow bored or worse, finds out he has been cuckolded by virtue of her true love w Christian, with whom she has a true love affair of the heart. She is forced to denounce Christian and break his heart, in order to save his life, from the merciless Duke.

And the backdrop is interwoven popular songs, in both the movie of 2001, and also the Broadway show, of 2019…but the songs differ, due to the time lag between productions. And they show u that love is suffering, and pain, as well as glory and the greatest thing u spend time on in this life! And circumstances, the backdrop, gets in the way, making true love impossible, yet again! Ugh. Only stolen furtive kisses, life risks, gossip mongers, spewing lies, and truths too, when they r lascivious, and others have 2 pay the price. And others face homelessness and starvation if the Moulin Rouge closes, through no fault of their own. Is that just? It all rides on these 3 people, and a mountainous debt that the club owner owes, that make it such that u r on a precipice, teetering. And the music plays on, and the dancers dance, and we sing, and other audience members object, because we really can’t sing….even tho we do, and the hell w them! It’s our show too, and we paid 4 our seats! Why can’t we enjoy it as we want 2??!!

And the maitre d’ comes to us post intermission, 2 tell us not to sing! Such nerve! That some patrons complained…and they r foreign tourists as well. Tell them 2 go back 2 their country, and stfu! (shut the fuck up!)  Even tho we know we shouldn’t sing, we wanted 2….and we moved in time w the music of our lives, and we felt every lyric as if it had been written 4 us, the lonely hearts…who want other loves ourselves, but we can’t have them anymore. They have moved on 2 other loves, not us…alas. And so, Satine’s tragedy is ours too. Quickly snatched love bites, and then no more, left unsatisfied, because of the whole backdrop that does not permit true love to thrive. Satine is owned by the one who owns the whole Moulin Rouge, the Duke. And that is us too, waiting 4 the grave to consume us, b4 we get our life back. Our love is real and never fulfilled. Such an epitaph it is…

If I Could But Speak my Feelings…

20191027_181026In life u have to stfu, which is millennial speak 4 “shut the fuck up” because your words have power and cannot be recalled once uttered. Sure, u can apologize, but that’s not the same thing as shutting the hell up in the first place, when some things really shouldn’t be uttered. This is going to be one of those poems of love that should have stayed silent 4ever within. U have been warned.


If I had had the timing and feelings reciprocal at any point in a  relationship, this is what I would have said.

If u had been on my radar and me on yours, I’d have spent every available hour analyzing what u really want from life, and would have given it 2 u. I wanted our son and daughter like I want my next breath, because the world needs more like u. And we didn’t get that, because we were on alternate life paths. We’d have loved the hell out of those kids, and given our best to them, w love, good counsel and a good home filled w real love. They’d have seen a great example of who we r 2 each other. And had a good idea of what 2 look 4 in their own partners later.

I’d have given u the home of your dreams, instead of merely singing Elton John’s “Your Song” 2 u, w tears in both of our eyes. Instead of our separate lives in apartments because of big expensive New York making homeownership well nigh impossible. Well, a real house anyway, not just a co-op or condo. And I’d have given up my beautiful home as it exists, 2 get u closer 2 your job, because long commutes keep u away from me, 4 far too long. And I can’t bear the separation any longer than necessary.

I’d have asked what u wanted to achieve in this life, and taken up a plan to fulfill it. If u wanted to travel the world, I’d have gladly joined u. If u wanted to retire at an earlier age, I’d have invested such that that would become possible. If u wanted to learn and play piano, or cello, or any musical instrument, I’d have said, have at it! Or 2 indulge a hobby, like photography, I’d have given u the best equipment available, and we’d have taken it up on our African safari, or the fjords of Norway, or the peaks of the Himalayas…The world would have been my gift 2 u. And the pictures would remind us of our well spent lives, when we were too old 2 climb or dance anymore.

I’d have taken long times at studying your sexual desires, and finding ways to fulfill that too. Even the unusual, so long as harm is not part of the equation. Only pleasure, sweet languorous lovemaking, on our patio, way far from the madding crowd, in front of our in ground swimming pool, or in it. Anywhere u like, as long as consensual. I’d have worn u out b4 we got too old. Believe it. U would never know what I had in store, because I rehearsed, waiting 4 that day…It is beyond the norm, what I speak of here. Just use your imagination, rather than detailing it explicitly.

And we’d have a vacation home, filled w art that we love, a view, in a cooler locale, because that’s what we do 4 each other. We deserve everything in the world, because we r good at heart, because we see want in the world, and need, and we help those whom we do not know, because we who have been fortunate owe it to those who r less fortunate. The world is made better by giving freely. We keep in mind the example of Jesus, and as such, we r blessed. We pledge our wealth, 51% of it, post death, to a foundation that serves many charities, such that our gift goes on in perpetuity, like the Getty fortune did, years ago.

And we adopt children from impoverished countries also, such that our natural born children get a good example of what a rich person does w incredible good fortune. Not merely consuming, but making the world a better place, which began when I met u, and we were on the same page, making this all true, instead of words on an online page. I am a dreamer, who hasn’t given up, but as the days become weeks, months, years, and we have limited time on Earth, I settle 4 the words at least. That they r out there, and my feelings spoken, even if impossible.

I have loved u w all of my heart, 4ever and a day. And I accept our life paths, even if it was not what I truly wanted. This much I know is true. Wherever our destiny lies. Play a song 4 me when I go, as I deserved that too. And if u had someone u wanted to meet, I’d have bid on an OMAZE experience 2 get u 2 meet him/her, because I want all of your dreams 2 come true in this life…u can’t imagine what it feels like 2 love in such a way, like this….When Doves Cry, by Prince.

The Pleasure of Agape (A Greek term)

Insomnia induced love of learning and quest for knowledge sent me to my computer at 4am. I needed to know the history of my alma mater, the Bronx High School of Science, specifically what of inventions made by alumni of the school. So if one cannot sleep, getting such information will certainly suffice to this task…

But seriously, I feel like this decision to attend, post admission offer, in April 1978, when I was but 13 years old at the time, to enter in 10th grade, because of having skipped 8th grade, in a special NYC program of that era, I was given the biggest opportunity of my so called life, to date at that time. I was given the door to a better life, right then. I was thrilled! Of course then, some folks started to look at me like I wasn’t a lightweight, because one must beat 30,000 other test takers for a slot, a seat at a grand table, which puts you on a trajectory of who you are, and where you are going in life.

Even some boys whom I was interested in looked at me differently, because I had made it in. Did this mean I was going to get my heart’s desire then? It was good news that the ratio of that era was 57% male, 43% female. And I knew how to dance too! We had practiced at the Mosholu Montefiore Community Center recreation room. I was developing confidence too, in the romantic arena, having been an early bloomer. I had a virtual harem of men! I can recall that many boys were feeling their libidos as high school went on; some teachers as well! Even though my own experience in that regard was sedate, and I knew quite assiduously not to be romantic too much with any boy in my own class of 1981. Boys were going to brag afterward: other girls had intimated, and then reputation was going to ruin.

And so, when someone in particular caught my fancy, I recalled my warning, most strongly, to not let it go too far, on a date. Yes, boyfriends, year after year, but quite sedate…limited sexual activity. However much one wanted otherwise. The Bronx Science crowd was verboten. Men already out at college might be safer, even though I was under age, for them, by virtue of statutory rape laws. If they were under 18 though, and so was I, well, I was an early bloomer, and not as clear cut. I was quite ready, and in love at the time. And so, it happened.

The early years stayed with us a lifetime, as I am now 55 years old! Writing my memoirs in prose, short forms, as our attention spans have shortened by virtue of using cell phones and computer/tablet screens too much, so I write little snippets of my life, when the urge strikes. Even today, I manage to surprise my dear cohort, my sisters as friends, my brothers as both lovers and friends, because what to make of the limited activity of youth?? Was it lovemaking? Or was it just a tease? In any case, never enough, not then, not now. The shadows of those years remain, with an asterisk, what if?

What if the particular boy then, the one I fancied, had been an actual full length lover? Well, of course, the silent voice says that that would have wound up as an experiment, just a course to see what it was like, and then inevitable breakup. We were going to different colleges, far apart geographically. And the chemistry might have screamed yes, but clearly that would not be enough, not then. We were going places, academically, and professionally, in life.

And then, looking back, isn’t it better actually to have a life friend, whom you truly love, in a holy way, without the taint of early sex, well, not much, anyway…and the answer is yes. To have had sex all the way then would have meant the friendship would have had no chance to flourish, and then we would have gone our own ways. And another boy turned man who was a lover, just once, he stayed around too, but we have to put the brakes on, every time. And so it goes, this life tale. The boys know who they were, and are. And I am most blessed to call them both friends, now and always! Even with that past. We accept our life journeys, wherever they lead us.

It is our destiny to be singing “WE Go Together!” From beloved Grease, movie, 1978….aged just 14 that year. Unreal this life. I am still grateful, even if my birthday prayer is the same every single year, and still unmet. But my friends are worth EVERYTHING! I love them all, with everything I have and more! God bless them all with long, healthy lives filled with love!

And there was a Dr. Gluck substitute teacher, who reminds me of a ducky these days…I wonder why that is, how the brain twists tendrils of memories, to such forms. And the boy turned man, he went on another path also, not as a ducky….but he inhabits my dreams. What say you, my dear comrades?? Is there such a thing as fate, in love?

50 Shades of Submission, Male

Ok, setting a scene here: I need a submissive man to come to me. Someone who likes to be dominated, a la studs and black leather, stilettos and fishnet stockings, with props. He should wear only a pair of Speedos, and be prepared to be bound and walked like the dog he is, to me. I will castigate him, pet him, let him lick me if he does well in his role, that he has requested that I fulfill, for him, because he is a very important businessman, who if the truth came out, would be thrown out of the corporate boardroom, and summarily dismissed with his Golden Parachute. He wants to be humiliated. This gets his rocks off. I like to accommodate men. Give them their most secret fantasies. Tell no one, because the silence is intoxicating, that only he and I know. He knows of what I speak, and in his mind’s eye, there is cashmere, silk sheets, pillows piled high, to get certain rewards, after the scene. My breasts are always a source of arousal for him, he loves them boundlessly…And even though I am plus size, that really doesn’t matter, because we are on the same wavelength, and I give him what he dares not voice to anyone else. I have him by the balls, you see, in a sex toy store, he likes to be bound, but then released, and when release comes, it is beyond sweet. We do a dance before meeting too, which is also calculated to increase susceptibility to orgasm. In fact, it’s all I can do to him to keep him in check, but I have my moves too, and am a grand master of this game.


Yes, we are well matched. Even if the outward lady here is sickly sweet, demure, proper, but in the arena of love, quite the Panther. He will become my slave, happily aroused, sated, in a lather of froth, going on and on, over the years…because no one who tastes this sundae ever forgets, or is able to put it in the past. I am addictive. You have been warned.

Oh, you thought this was real life scenario? Don’t you guys know that I am a writer, and my blog is my therapy? It works too, to drain the swamp of desire. But a few readers know of what I speak here, their names die on my lips. “Perchance to dream…”- W. Shakespeare, Hamlet. Have at it, boys and girls: dreams can come true, with the right person.

Cruising Lover

At 47th-50th St, up against a pillar on the platform, my lover presses me, obliviously

to the multitudes of commuters all round. He knows I like the pressure and the PDA,

though this goes further than that. His hands are in my long hair, luxurious blonde locks,

as he kisses me, yes, even tongue kissing, with his hips against mine, so we are shrouded in a raincoat, but I feel him, and it’s hot, really hot, because I know people are watching us, and thinking how disgusting, because we are in our 50’s now, not 20 somethings that people would just walk away, and think crazy horny kids…

Because I was that girl on the platform that you saw, aged 25, doing the same thing, but then it was almost acceptable, or even ignored, because people know 20 somethings are just very hot for sex, and that’s kind of universal, unless you have had a major trauma.

But it’s even better now, because mid 50’s, it’s definitely NOT acceptable. You should know better, that people can’t stand the concept of their parents doing the nasty. But we do, and we do it way better, because it’s a rarity, to find someone on your wavelength

And we have had lots of practice, and we know what we like, and we’re better listeners, and we aim to please our lover, because he’s liking the forbidden aspect too. You have to catch them in the availability window: between spouses, or else you are verboten, whorish, vixen, who dangles concert tickets between lusciously heavy breasts, upthrusted in half laced blue midnight bra, showing nipples proudly, for his hungry gaze and more….

And his wildest dreams are laid out, planned, plotted, both in secret and in public, because now unencumbered by marital ties, he is free, and so am I, happily free, and drinking wine or whisky, choose your poison, dancing, living, loving, endlessly, screaming when the time comes, both of us, YES!!!! For we were made to be one, and so we are, finally…

And he throws me in the suite in the bed, on the European cruise, and we are so well suited, so hungry, so endlessly creative, that there isn’t enough time left in this life to do all I want to do with him, there, in the bed, in the soaking tub, jacuzzi jets, naked, almond oil, bubbles, thick towels, not needed for long, continued in the king bed, kisses, oh thousands of kisses, on his lips, his mounds, his very body, hunting around the needle point, where his desire is concentrated, and I know more, of erogenous zones, than he even imagines, but he can lead me too, if he wants, if he likes what he sees and hears, my moans, involuntary…

Because my mouth is not the only thing that expresses love. You can hear it if you listen carefully, in the closed compartment aboard the cruise ship, at sea, just him and me, and ecstasy….never ending, but for breaks of food, because we know after orgasm, we are in fact hungry, like a wolf. And I will give him everything he has ever wanted, but no former lover would dare. for I am woman, and you can hear me ROAR! Yes, quite loudly.

He will die from me, but happily. There is no turning back, once we get on that ship, beginning at Rockefeller Center, NYC. And I won’t kill him with kindness, but instead lust, fulfilled a thousand ways to Sunday!