DON'T BE ASHAMED TO MASTERDATE

I've been masterdating for as long as I can remember. Yesterday I did it at the Vero Beach Mall in full view of everyone. I haven't done it at the library for awhile, but tomorrow I might! One thing is for sure, I don't do enough of it. That's masterdating with a D as in Dianne. I didn't come up with that word, but I love it and also love doing it!

Masterdating is treating yourself to things you enjoy, no company required. All but a few of my many exotic vacations were taken alone.

Before moving to Vero Beach I didn't drive due to anxiety attacks, but that never stopped me! Our house was inside the city limits and within walking distance of nearly everything! The historic downtown area with stores, restaurants, museums, and a theatre was just a short distance away. My bank was even closer! Numerous doctor & dentist offices were close by, and the hospital was just down the street. And the library was just blocks away!

Growing up, I walked to school and back right up until the last 3 years before I graduated. Then I walked to the Junior High where I caught the bus out to the new High School.

Several of my jobs were ones to which I walked. Also I put in applications to others nearby. However they asked a question which is now illegal, one that involved my transportation to and from work. One interviewer actually said to me, "I see you have a problem getting to work."

I stated there was NO PROBLEM! Should it storm I would have no trouble getting a ride. Someone living farther away would have more of an issue if their car broke down. Still this seemed to be a stigma against me!

As long as I had 2 functioning legs I got around just fine! I carried an umbrella to shield me from the blazing sun as well as raindrops.

Unfortunately without a job there was no spending money for excursions into town or anything else. For entertainment, much of my time was spent at the library just blocks away. I even became a volunteer hoping it would lead to employment. It did not.

In 1999 came the big move to Vero Beach! Here, nothing was close to home! With continued therapy along with professional lessons I finally was able to get a license and drive a car.

After my father's death in 2001 and before my staggering loss in a bad investment, I was sitting pretty financially. Every week I enjoyed a Date-Myself-Day and treated myself to a movie and a meal. And I was the best date I've ever had! I could choose both the movie & restaurant I wanted, plus leave & come home when I felt like it on the day of my choosing! Life was wonderful!

It still is, just not as. Despite financial issues and other woes life goes on. I enjoy meeting friends for lunch & shopping, or sometimes just lunch. And I treat myself to an occasional movie or meal alone, only not as frequently.  

At home, I always set a lovely table just for me to enjoy. Perhaps it's old age kicking in, but sometimes as I pull up after a day out I feel relief that I don't have to go anyplace for the remainder of the week.

A relaxing nap also feels like masterdating!

THE VACATION BIBLE SCHOOL BRIBE

At the end of summer I would be starting school for the first time. This was back in the 1950's! My exposure to other children was limited. Mostly, my time was spent with my closest neighbor Sharla, 4 years my senior who was spoiled rotten and my parents considered a bad influence, but was tolerated.

My mother feared I'd be socially retarded. She had this idealized image of what her daughter was supposed to be and never failed to let me know that I was a big disappointment.

My brother, 11 years older had been attending church alone ever since my family moved to Florida 5 years earlier. Thanks to our Pentecostal grandmother up north he was quite religious then.  A few years later when drafted into the army he discovered alcohol and exchanged one crutch for another.

That particular summer the church was holding a vacation bible school for children my age. My family thought it might do me good to meet more kids my age. Thankfully it was only for a week, but it turned out to be one of the longest weeks of my life.

Class started early. The teacher was a woman on the elderly side. Another in her 20's appeared to be her assistant. The students were a mixed group of girls & boys about evenly divided. I noticed that one girl kept shooting me a less than friendly look.

At 10:00 AM each day, class paused for a 15 minute break. Everyone went outside where punch & cookies were served by the assistant. The boys & girls separated. We ate on benches. I sat alone.

The other girls seemed to go out of their way to avoid me. That one continued shooting evil looks. She appeared to be their leader. I'll call her "Alpha"! Perhaps she felt threatened by me because we both had the same Buster Brown haircut. However I was probably the least threatening person there.

The first day was it for me! I never wanted to return, but was urged to give it a second chance.

The following one played out the same. I declared to my parents that I would NOT be returning. The other kids excluded me plus I was getting an outright hostile vibe from one girl.

At that time, I did have a friend my age, Lindy who had moved nearby. My mother invited her to join me and pay the small fee for the remainder of the week so I wouldn't feel alone.

The following morning as we sat waiting for class to commence, I couldn't believe my eyes as Alpha gave Lindy the warmest most welcoming smile I'd ever seen in my life! -- Why didn't she do that for ME??? Lindy smiled sweetly back.

When break time rolled around as we stood getting our refreshments Alpha waved Lindy over and invited her to sit with her and the other girls, which she did. I sat alone and watched them all play together afterward.

I told my mother that was the proverbial straw that finally broke the camel. However, Mom had an idea. The following AM when my brother picked Lindy up he was instructed to bring her back to our house, first.

I owned an elaborate doll collection despite the fact I never played with them. (I was more of a bug, rock, & reptile gal.) But my mother adored dolls! Lindy did, too. She loved playing with mine whenever she visited. -- I was probably just the side attraction. Anyway, Lindy was partial to one doll in particular.

My mother offered to give her this doll at the end of the week provided she remain at my side. Lindy was thrilled!

The following day as we sat at the bench having our cookies & punch Alpha came over and asked Lindy to come sit with her and the other girls.

"No, I can't," she replied. "I have to stay with Dianne!"

It's that "HAVE TO" part that always sticks in my mind.

I waited for Alpha to say, "Bring her, too." Instead, she just shrugged and walked away.

But Lindy was a good little whore! She earned that damn doll! However, I never wanted anything more to do with her afterward. She was never invited to my home ever again.

I don't believe getting a so-called friend to prostitute herself was the answer. Better to have complained to the minister and demanded a refund since the 2 women in charge were either clueless or indifferent.

I wondered if I would be encountering Alpha again later when I started school. This was not the case. Unfortunately, there were others of her ilk. I found myself in their crosshairs.

And despite my mother's best efforts I grew up socially retarded, but I'm OK with that.

THE GIRL FROM LONG AGO

That summer I must have been 4 years old because I didn't start school for another 2 years at age 6. My premier friend Sharla, (4 years older) a grade schooler was quite sophisticated and worldly. Just the year before she took a train trip with her mother to an exotic sounding place called Pennsylvania. I was in awe.

This particular summer their church was sponsoring a fun day at a swimming hole in a neighboring municipality just a short distance away for children in the congregation, they were encouraged to invite others. Sharla's mother Jayne invited me, probably without her knowledge, I'm guessing.

Just as soon as Jayne drove away Sharla raced off to join kids her own age. I knew I would not be seeing her around me until it was time to go home. I was hurt but not surprised, Sharla was just being Sharla.

I loved to swim and found myself automatically walking toward the water. It wasn't too deep and comfortably cool, perfect for swimming. I wasn't in long before a girl around age 10 swam over and asked my name. We played and laughed together in the water.

Lunch was included, at this time the swimming ended. The older girl took my hand as we stepped from the water. She grabbed a towel and began drying me off, one leg & arm at time. Sharla would never have done that! Just the week before at the beach I asked her to hand me a towel and she told me, "Get it yourself!"

This older girl took my hand again and we headed toward the picnic tables. We sat together and chatted. Afterward she pushed me on the swings and we sang. She never left my side that entire day. Later she waited with me still holding my hand as the event drew to a close. My friend, Sharla was occupied elsewhere.

When Jayne arrived to pick us up it was painful to wave good bye. I knew I'd never see this girl again, but I would never forget her, either! I could not have imagined that someone older would take an interest and give me such TLC. I had never felt so cared for by anyone, not even my own mother. She made me feel so special that day!

I wasn't even that cute. And there was no pay off for her.

Perhaps she was the preacher's daughter and had been instructed to befriend any stray kids. If so, I never felt she was acting out of obligation. Even now as a senior citizen I still vividly recall this angel of a girl and that day long ago!

WHAT? IS THAT AN INSULT!

A friend told me she often made popcorn while watching flicks at home just as I do, then quickly added, "Did I just use that antiquated word FLICKS!"

I told her she probably picked it up from me. I use the word "FLICKS" all the time. To me, a light entertaining movie is a flick; where as a powerful one, the stuff of Academy Awards, or any foreign one is a film. This is MY thinking, anyway.

I LOVE antiquated words and phrases as well as many new fangled ones, anything imaginative, colorful, that's just plain fun to roll off the tongue. Many Victorian euphemisms in particular hit the mark, often without excessive vituperation, plus their insults were clever and hilarious! We need this again, desperately!

Below are only a few examples:

Bag o' Mystery:  Sausage

Bitch the Pot:  Tea is served!

Fustilug:  A touchy, crabby person

Gongoozler:  Someone who dawdles or idles

Totty One-Lung:  A sickly person with an inflated sense of self-importance.

Zounderkite:  A goof who makes awkward, avoidable mistakes.

Gas Pipes:  Tight trousers

Dirty Puzzle:  A lustful, loose woman

Tot-Hunting:  Prowling for sluts & sex.

Heymarket Hector:  A pimp

EYEBALLS SKYROCKET!!! Those cheeky Victorians even had names for male & female body parts:

The Staff of Life & Master John Goodfellow were a reference to the penis. Tallywags were testicles as were whirlygigs & twiddle-diddles. Crinkum-Crankum, The Phoenix Nest, & Mount Pleasant referred to the vagina. Cupid's Kettle Drums are now called tits, knockers, boobs, tah tah's; take your pick.

Now I've been inspired me to come up with some NEW WORDS OF MY OWN!  See below:

 

SLUPERDUFF:  A habitually late person. If you know someone like this, buy a cattle prod or a flame-thrower.

Gnatbeezer:  An annoying pesky, petty, over-critical person...Purchase a bottle of strong Dollar Store perfume, one that smells like insecticide & spray into their face -- accidentally of course!

Dudhumper:  Usually a barfly, someone who indiscriminately becomes intimate with strangers. -- Calling all Neanderthals & troglodytes; have at it, yeeehaw!!!

Toodledoom:  Someone romantically involved with a highly toxic person. Love is not only blind; it's deaf, dumb, & retarded. These cases are hopeless!

Grabbersnoodle:  Someone who forces a hug. -- For this, I plan to create a long pair of gloves with sharp metal spikes and then appear on Shark Tank. Kevin O'Leary would immediately go for these! And I'd give him a big tight squeeze of thanks!

Hahahooti:  A funny joke, just like the one I posted in an earlier blog about the Frenchman & the old lady. Scroll way back to The Continent of Pangaea to read this joke.

Spider Pus:  Exfoliating creams that sting!

Neon Hat:  Someone who shamelessly seeks attention & will resort to anything to get it. Think reality show celebrities!

Ratflinger:  A vile person who hits under the belt to undermine an opponent. One is occupying the White House at the moment. I wish to see him bungee jump off the Washington Monument with a frayed cord!

High-flying-jig:  How you feel when karma zaps a deserving person. However sometimes karma needs a helping hand!

Platepooper:  Someone who thinks they're a skilled chef, but in fact is quite the opposite!  -- Start gasping & wheezing! Suddenly exclaim, "Gadzooks! I must be allergic!" Make a quick exit.

Roach Soup:  An invitation you'd rather decline. See Above!

Now I expect YOU to start using all of these as part of your vocabulary and work them into your conversations!  -- MINE FIRST!!!

A CULTURAL APPROPRIATOR, ME???

I read about the teenager accused of cultural appropriation because she wore a Chinese dress to her prom. Oh for crying out loud!!! If cultural appropriation was a crime I'd be lined up against a wall, blindfolded and shot by a firing squad! I'm the worst offender out there! I'd probably be slapped with a with misappropriation label!

I saw a photo of the young woman online. She should be proud of how beautiful she looked in the dress! She did nothing wrong and owes no one an apology or even an explanation. She was much kinder to her critics than I would have been!

My flagrant compulsion as an appropriator began at a tender age. I was around age 4 when my family took me to visit a Seminole village. There, at my insistence, they purchased a turquoise & brown Indian dress with tribal markings. I've always loved pretty dresses! This one became my favorite! And coming from an Indian village made it that more special.

Today, I purchase many clothes from black women's catalogues. I love the styles! Plus they're made for women who are built like me with a protruding bosom & behind. Also they lack that frump-a-dump look found in most catalogues for women of a certain age. And I've always been attracted to colorful and interesting clothing.

Cultural appropriation/misappropriation means turning the clothing into a costume and making fun of the culture. Now I love costumes and I've worn many! I dressed as Norma Desmond when I attended the complementary lunch sponsored by the retirement home. And I wore black from head-to-toe at the one sponsored by a funeral home. -- These were tame compared to some of the get-ups I created doing commercials I wrote and performed live at business networking events.

However I've never derided anyone's cultural heritage. I consider myself a citizen of the world first and an American second.

Yes, I've worn Mexican attire at a Cinco de Mayo festivals, but no giant sombrero. Others did, however it was all in the spirit of celebration. And I once wore Rhine maiden duds for Oktoberfest. Look at all the people who wear funny green hats on St. Patrick's Day!  I've never done that, but someday I might!  During holiday merrymaking and festivals different rules apply.

And I would have no issue if someone from China dressed up in a ten gallon hat, chaps, boots & spurs from the rip roaring days of the old west! Or if anyone from another culture came dressed as a pilgrim for Thanksgiving, why would I even care! Geez, many people from exotic cultures wear North American styles!

After returning from Thailand in 2016 I started wearing the colorful harem pants I bought. (Lots of non-Asians wear them, there.) One day I happened to be wearing a pair with my turban when I went to fetch my mail. A neighbor's redneck lawn man passed by in his truck, he gave me a really dirty look. I glared defiantly back at him.

I could just imagine him telling my neighbors down at the cul de sac "Did you know there's a Mooslum woman living just up the street!?" And I can imagine them replying, "Oh you must be referring to that liberal lesbian who voted for Obama." -- For the record, I am neither liberal nor a lesbian, but I DID vote for Obama, TWICE! I had campaign signs on my lawn.

A year before Thailand, I met a friend at the mall for lunch. I was wearing exotic palazzo pants, a long sleeve fringe top, & giant earrings. I mentioned that I'd read it was the height of fashion in Dubai. "Are you going to Dubai?" she inquired. I shook my head and laughed.

Little did I know that a year later I would actually be in Dubai!!! I had to change planes there on my way to Bangkok. While at the airport, I found it fascinating to people watch. I saw styles from all over the planet! What struck me was how drab and boring North Americans looked by comparison. Jeans and T-shirt have almost become a uniform. Well NOT mine!

OK, I've worn jeans for heavy duty work around the house and on vacations while traipsing thru jungles, riding elephants, or climbing pyramids, but only then.

While in Ecuador, I noticed the native women wore long black shirts with lacy or embroidered white tops. They looked lovely and quite elegant. I asked a guide and later one of the women in the market if anyone would be offended if I started dressing that way. (At the time, I was considering moving there.) I was assured not and given the green light.

After returning from Ecuador, I put together an outfit like the ones I had admired. I've worn it many times and will again. And this is true of every outfit in my vast collection of culturally appropriated attire! I wear them all with pride!

Remember, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.

THE INEVITABLE & MYSTERIOUS UNKNOWN

Yesterday I attended a complementary luncheon, this one sponsored by a funeral home. Of course I went! This was a free meal at a country club. Several years back, I attended one sponsored by a cremation society.

What happens after death? I find myself thinking more & more about this as I grow older. As I'm fond of saying, I'm now 67 and one year closer to Heaven. What is Heaven? I've heard it's whatever you want it to be. If that's true, my dead relatives will be elsewhere! I've had encounters with ghosts and also some downright inexplicable experiences so I'm inclined to believe there's something after.

Reincarnation makes sense to me. However I don't want to return to this planet, it's Jerk World! I'd rather come back as an amoeba on another one. During autohypnosis I saw briefly a past incarnation, my death as part of the Roman war machine. I was part of a small group separated from the others. We were ambushed and outnumbered in a shallow stream under a steep, sheer cliff only a few feet higher than my 30ft cathedral ceiling. The barbarians wore helmets trimmed with fur. Quickly surrounded, we were overcome! While frantically engaged in a fight, a warrior came splashing thru the water and slashed me across my lower back with his sword! I swung around and fell face first into the stream! But I didn't die of my wound; I drown in the bloody water.

This revelation explained an issue that's plagued me since childhood. I loved to swim, but I'd freak out just thinking about my head under water. Eventually, I overcame this phobia. However, I'm still uncomfortable with it.

But what if this vision and all of my inexplicable experiences are a brain glitch and nothing but mere illusion? What if this life is ALL there is. Why is that a bad thing??? During surgeries I recall the feeling, or rather the lack of it, no dreams during my unconscious,  as if I simply ceased to exist. If that's what death is, I don't have a problem with it. If I could remain eternally young in good health with an endless stream of wealth, I'd want to live forever. But that's not reality! I've enjoyed wonderful times and endured horrible ones, I can accept finality.

Actually, I'm far more frightened and worried about advancing age and illness than I am of death!!! Even a brief hospital stay would ruin me financially.

Most believe that you are automatically entitled to receive Medicare once you hit age 65. That's untrue! If you are ineligible for Social Security you are also ineligible for Medicare. I am proof! -- And don't tell me to get a job unless you are offering me one. And I mean one that pays a living wage!

A few have suggested a GoFundMe page when the need arises. However I am someone many people cannot relate to, much less sympathize. Most would probably be happy to see me die. -- And I'm spitting on each of you in my head!!!

We live in a screwed-up pseudo religious society where owning an assault rifle is a God-given right, but affordable healthcare is a privilege and often a luxury. And this is only one issue!

The previous complementary luncheon I attended just weeks before was sponsored by a retirement home. The speaker was good and she made the place sound fabulous. If an appliance breaks, you just phone maintenance. They will not even allow you to change a light bulb by yourself! Best of all, should a hurricane appear on the horizon, no cause for worry, you do nothing. It's someone else's problem! Plus there are 5 restaurants to choose from and one meal per day (your choice) is included. As for medical care, no problem!  All of this for only one check per month.

Whenever someone inquired about price, we were informed it all depended on the dwelling of your choice; pricing was listed in a brochure on the back table. And we were assured this place was the most reasonable around.

I picked up one of those brochures. The most inexpensive dwelling there, a small studio apartment the size of a hotel room, (no porch or veranda) cost $500 more a month than I pull in! That does not include the purchase price! If I sold my 2-story house that I love with room to roam and a private back yard I might be able to afford it. However, I'd better take an enormous purse to that one daily meal because I'd have no money left for groceries, or anything else.  At least the retirement home I visited in Thailand included all meals.    

Also I find people to be draining. I don't like to socialize with groups, much less live with them! I would feel like an inmate confined to that tiny apartment. NO THANK YOU! If I had the amount required to live there, it would be unnecessary! I could be enjoying life way better right here.

Everyone who sees me cannot believe I'm as old as I am. I want to keep it that way.

I've switched to a healthier diet and I'm doing everything in my power to preserve my health. I'm not trying to live forever, I can't afford to! I just don't want to die in a hospital! Nor do I want to be one of those senior citizens with a kitchen counter or medicine cabinet full of over-priced drugs. Perhaps everything I'm doing will never be enough, heredity is a major factor. But when the time comes, I'm determined to leave this world on my own terms.

YOUNG & FREE

Decades ago before all the concrete & traffic, and before half the state of New York moved here to ruin it, Florida was paradise! Gorgeous tropical wilderness was everywhere! I was raised a free-range child. Everyone was back then and exploring is what we did.

Whenever outdoors, whether it was with friends or alone my parents never knew where I was at any given moment. In First Grade while living on the Intracoastal Waterway in Hobe Sound, I often walked blocks to friend's homes without informing my parents. All my folks cared about was whether or not I showed up on time for meals.

From Hobe Sound, my family moved to the 100 acre place on the Port Salerno border. Here, there were no neighbors within socializing distance, just beautiful eye-filling nature that felt like heaven. Every inch of it was explored either on horseback or on foot.

At age 9 under protest, I moved with my family to our new home within the city limits. Our house overlooked the St. Lucie River. We enjoyed a magnificent view from the back because we were on a steep hill. Visitors would gasp and their jaws would drop at the sight. However, I would have given it up in a heartbeat to go back to those seemingly endless acres of beautiful green wilderness and the lake we left behind. The beauty of that place was serene with no people noise.

The new house was a bad fit for me right from the start. Also life for my family seemed to quickly unravel there. But some of my memories at the beginning are good ones.

We had a 150 ft. dock with a boathouse at the end to the right. On top was a sundeck where we'd take the binoculars. The river was a mile across plus we could see for miles each way. And we brought the radio up there, too. We'd dance to the music! Back then the twist was popular. (They were probably doing it in Siberia!) Thank goodness it was easy to do.

My friends and I swam in the river too and often drifted far from home.

Just to the right of our dock near the shore was a clam bed. During the season I'd wade out and feel them under my bare feet. I'd toss them into my bucket and for days after I'd have fried clams or clam chowder for dinner. I loved it! 

Alone, I frequently took long scenic walks down the shoreline. I watched herds of manatees swimming down the river. Sadly they became fewer and fewer with the passing years until they disappeared altogether. And there were dolphins too! I'd stroll behind all manner of homes. And more than a few times found myself behind the hotel where Natalie Wood honeymooned the first time she and Robert Wagner married.

Once, after a storm I discovered a raft with a long pole & oar washed up on shore. I paddled way out on the river and for long miles. Life moved slower then with plenty of time to savor it.

Just as frequently, I walked to what is now referred to as the Historic Downtown District. A theatre was there and Saturday movie matinees were only 25 cents. Often, I'd stop at the Drug Store for a scrumptious ice cream soda. These were 25 cents also.

Later, when I was in the 11 and 12 age group friends would stay over. On summer evenings we'd walk to town and have dinner at the Drug Store counter; usually hot dogs, fries, & a coke. Then we'd catch the 7:00 PM movie. Afterward, we'd walk home by ourselves in the dark. We were never afraid.

During friend's overnight visits we stayed in our guesthouse across the carport. After my grandfather's death it became vacant. Later, at age 39 I moved over there after Dad re-married. As a kid it was the perfect place for entertaining. We could stay up late as we wanted. Often we'd act out everything we saw in the movie adding our own plot twists and alternate ending. We reveled in pure clean fun and it was glorious!

Children both small and tweens enjoyed far more freedom from parental supervision back then. I can recall only one harrowing incident while being out and about. This happened when I was age 10.

My friend Shelly who was a year older, received a bike for her birthday. She took me for a ride. I sat on the back. We had wheels now and intended to do some major exploring far from home. She peddled into a neighborhood neither of us had ever seen before. Inside an open garage were a group of boys ranging in age from 7 to 15. They were gathered around a motorcycle.

As Shelly pedaled past, a huge vicious German Sheppard came tearing out after us barking and growling! --That dog belonged to one of those boys; you'd think someone would have called it back! Instead, all just looked on with intrigue as if they'd paid tickets for a show! Quickly the dog caught up with the bike! It grabbed my skirt within its snarling teeth. I jerked it free as Shelly pedaled fast away.

I was shaken, but relieved it was only my skirt and not my leg! But usually my friends & I were safe.

Unbeknownst to my parents, to make extra spending money, friends and I would go door-to-door selling oranges, grapefruit, & kumquats from our trees in the yard. We'd start on the next street over and work our way into town. Citrus fruit in Florida was as common as Italian restaurants in Italy. Yet sometimes we got lucky. A nice man once bought our entire bag for a dollar! He led us into his kitchen where he handed us the money.

In retrospect, I see how risky this was. However back then, most adults were considered above reproach and trusted. Now, I can see how this would enable a sicko to take advantage. We just happened to be fortunate. Eventually, a neighbor told my folks and we were ordered to stop. But our fun remained unabated.

Summer days were splendorous and overflowing with joy! Never did I want them to end! Freedom filled the air like perfume.   

Everything changed dramatically with the start of a new school year. There was absolutely nothing pleasant about school, at least not the one where I spent the majority of my attendance.  

I remember my childhood times vividly. Technology had yet to commandeer every aspect of our lives. I may as well have grown up on another planet in comparison to the kids now. And I'm grateful for that!