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Things I Don’t Need Mansplained (Missive from the Frontlines)

September 22, 2019 in Age Matters, Etiquette Matters, Feminist Matters, Listing, Queer Matters

1. Parallel parking. Trust me, I’ve been parallel parking since you were in nappies, son. Actually, I’ve been parallel parking since I was in nappies, too.
2. Movies. Read the room, Einstein.
3. Technology. My dad is a computer scientist; chances are good I can fix it before you can diagnose it.
4. Donald Trump’s psyche.
5. Any male psyche.
6. Definitely not my psyche.
7. Anything, actually.

Dating cis-men has been such a drag lately that I may have to put the kibosh on it entirely (not that many will cry in their beer over an ornery 40something who can’t massage a male ego to save her life, yeah I should take this down).

The Straight Dirt of Dreams

September 21, 2019 in Age Matters, City Matters, Feminist Matters, Ruby Intuition, Spirit Matters

The ultimate 20th century trickster (Mata Hari).

The unconscious is a powerful thing, everyone knows that. Or at least everyone who doesn’t get tripped up by their own shoelace. But sometimes I forget how much smarter my unconscious is than my regular self.

Also how much more of a trickster.

Certainly when it comes to my romantic life, my unconscious bests my conscious (and conscience) every time. I can ignore what the tarot is trying to tell me–or, worse, respin it to match my most piteous impulses. I can ignore my friends’ two cents. But for me wish fulfillment is only a fancy of the waking mind. I’ve yet to bullshit myself while dreaming.

My dreams always tell me when beaus are stepping out.
My dreams never fool me about who is attractive or attracted to me.
My dreams are harsh but o lord I can trust them.

There are men and women I broke up with decades ago whom I still bed in dreams. Sometimes sexual chemistry has an extraordinary shelf life. Other times it does not. Continue Reading →

Dreams of a Metaphysical Detective

September 16, 2019 in Age Matters, Book Matters, Cat Lady Matters, City Matters, Essays, Feminist Matters, Ruby Intuition, Spirit Matters

As I write this my head hurts, my stomach hurts, my heart hurts. This is because my period is due to arrive this morning like the fusillade of bricks that is menstruation when you are 48 years old.

Rest assured that as rough as PMS can be when you’re 18–and I remember it as a wicked pissah–it’s a billion times worse 30 years later, as if your menstruating self refuses to go out without a bang. This is something women don’t really talk about because there’s so much shame around menopause and getting older in general.

Anyway, the pain is so bad that I can’t work on my book today. But rarely does PMS fabricate anything wholecloth and so the truth is I’ve been feeling stuck for such a long time that part of me thinks I should scrap the entire book endeavor and find a line of work that, you know, actually pays. The problem: What exactly would that be for a woman rounding the corner to 50 who’s only word-played for a living? Not to mention that, even in dark stretches like this one, I remain convinced there’s a reason besides solipsism to share my story.

Also the universe keeps trying to redirect my hazy, lazy self.

Continue Reading →

"All, everything I understand, I understand only because I love."
― Leo Tolstoy