Invisible

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From the age of sixteen until I was somewhere in my fifties, there were times I wished I could be invisible. I don’t mean like children wish they could disappear from parents or sneak into the candy store. I wished I could go places and not have men bother me just because I had “the face”. Well, I also had the body since I was a perfect (gag) size six for decades and did not earn it with endless hours of exercise. Yes, you may hate me but there is always another side to the coin.

Attention is fun and stopping the conversation in a room when you walk in is a power trip. That being said, you are expected to always look like you deserve “the face” so you are supposed to have a bit of make-up and acceptable clothing on whenever you leave the house. There have been men in my life who thought I should wear clothing that I have only seen on crime shows, worn by hookers. I didn’t wear any of those (with the exception of the pink dress, but that is another story). But attention stops being fun when it never ends. When men ogle you or worse pester you as if you were single even with a big wedding ring on your finger.

Now that I have my wish, I am sad. The other day I was in the line at the post office and the guy in front of me was gorgeous. Strong face with a slightly broken nose (ex-fighter?), dark hair, strong arms with dark hair and crystal blue eyes. Yes, he was one of my types and he looked right through me. I was invisible. For a moment, it hurt that such a handsome man could not see me looking at him. Then I remembered how much I always wanted to be invisible. I could look at this sexy 30ish guy with abandon. He could not see me. I am now old.

Be very careful what you wish for! If you live long enough, your wish may come true. The plus side of my wish fulfilment is that I got to stare at this guy, who should be on the cover of my next book, for nearly twenty minutes without ever having to speak or politely tell him I’m not available.  It was really Fun!

Winter

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#historicdrought
Shakespeare had it with “..now is the winter of our discontent made…” but I would say fire, not flesh. The very air in California is brittle from lack of water. I am still gathering the bones of my poor white birch, skeletal white and so dead, from the ground of my slowly dying landscape. Yes, they will pay you around a thousand dollars to remove your grass and install “drought tolerant” plants with bark or rocks but don’t be fooled. It costs way more than that and even tolerant plants still need some water.

The clouds come by once and a while, but they leave without a drop. Did you know that virga is rain that does not reach the ground?? The weather maps show some green, but no water actually falls. I’d never heard that word until I reached this desert. Rain that does not reach the ground, is that a cosmic joke on us? Have I mentioned we are trapped in a C. S. Lewis novel? (if you don’t get the reference “always winter, never Christmas”) Always cloudy never raining.

I am not a travel writer, I like my fiction. I write love stories, no not romances, not enough sex (or so I’ve been told). I like fiction because I can control (usually, sometimes things get out of hand) how the story goes. Reality is not as much fun and bad things just feckin’ happen. I am proofing LIGHTED WINDOWS one last time before sending it on to the editor. It is disappointing to see some of my rookie mistakes still happening in these last chapters. To be a writer, you must write. To be a good writer, you must write a lot and daily if at all possible. The more I write the better (I hope) I get. But it does not correlate with the drought problem. The longer we go without water, June 6th was our last real rain, the less we are able to handle it. Being in a drought never gets easier, no matter how hard you try.

Ciao darlings! If you have rain read this bit one more time before you get too depressed. It will stop raining but will it ever start???

Again

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Oh, God, it’s happened again. Some insane monster took a weapon and murdered students. And again, the talk is only about the weapon not the monster. WTF! A C-130 went down yesterday as well taking just as many lives but no one talks about retiring that old air-frame.

I’m so angry with that thing called Obama I cannot speak politely. Let us control the guns and, the inference is, this sort of tragedy will stop happening, like a knife or sword would do no harm. It is to awful to imagine a Katana in the hands of a murderer such as this. Am I the only one who sees what is actually happening?

IT’S NOT ABOUT THE GUN. Sorry, shouting doesn’t do any good I realize that but no one seems to understand. Sane people do not kill defenseless students. Insane people will find a way to kill with whatever they can get their hands on and gun control will not stop them.

Health Care is an industry. It is painful just to write those words but that is the real problem. Insane people are expensive and the “Industry” does not want to deal with them. So there is no place to put mentally sick people, because it would be too expensive and the corporate jets might not be the newest ones available. Don’t let them fool you, even the “not for profit” health care folks pay shameful amounts of money to their CEO’s, COO’s, CFO’s and on down the ladder.

Do we want the killings to stop? The insane and the dangerous mental cases must be put in an asylum. There are no institutions for the general public to place their unstable relations in because it costs lots of money. Yes, the real problem is the money. The Health Care Industry does not want to lose money on crazy people, so crazy people kill lots of innocent people.

Seriously, sane people do not kill students. I don’t know how many times I’ve written those words. Why does it seem that I am the only one shouting about stopping the crazy people?

Okay, enough! The ones who could stop this won’t. Attacks on the second amendment to the Constitution (you know that old document the Obama-ination says is outdated) won’t stop these terrible events. As long as the insane are left out in the cold, they will continue to murder us.