Serving It Up

So, now that I am gainfully unemployed, it's time for me to vent some deep-seated crap I've been dealing with for a couple of years now.

I used to be a contender. Not whining, just reporting. I had a newspaper column (not one of those Pennysaver bullshit "papers--a real one) and wrote for magazines that enabled me to indulge in my fantasy. It was a good fantasy--pretending I was a wealthy traveler, going hither and thither, having special treatment and special treatments (I'll get into that later) that fed my insatiable desire to "be discovered."

Excuse me while I laugh my guts out. Yes, I confess, I was hoping for the Right Person to read something I wrote and JUST HAD to sign me up, get me on the talk shows, blah blah. Look, I said it was fantasy. Then something shifted.

With my soul-mate (and husband who came for the ride) we pulled up stakes from New York after a 20-plus-year hate/love relationship with it, and moved far, far away.

Into a Galaxy of the Great South West. Now, don't get me wrong. I like strange plants and animals---at a distance. So when we discovered our neighbors included Bobcats, pig-like creatures called Javelinas and scary coyotes, it was very cool. For a week.

Now, two years into our experiment, we are trying on some 2-year plans (or sooner) because we sure as hell don't belong in this dust bowl. Not that there's anything wrong with attending Presidential events with rifles and guns. It's just that, well, I miss the ocean.

Not that I went that much when we lived on Long Island. But just knowing I could (and often did when the kids were small) was enough. Salt Air. Hard to find in the scrubby badlands.

So I've been adjusting (slooowwwly) to life in Tucson. This little venture will hopefully give women a smile, a snort or even a belly laugh.

And please comment, or I won't know if anyone is really out there. Yes, I take pity comments. Thank you and goodnight.