the unicorn always rings twice....

this past May, at my annual, my gyno told me I was in the 1%...at 57...if you're not sure what he meant, let's just say that yes, for a few days a month I still could probably get away with most homicides with a predominantly female jury, sprinkled with some terrified males...as he said it to me...1%...I thought to myself, you had to be an over-achieving shit at this?!?...but then when I listed some new complaints his smile disappeared...a few weeks and many tests later and there I was in surgery friday...the secret of a somewhat youthful glow erased instantly...which begs the question...what really does it mean to be a woman?..why is age not revered in our society?..who sets the bar and determines our worth?..and ultimately, had the true essence of who I am been wiped from the slate?...now, granted, up until Friday, I really had a long crazy ride well into my fifties...and actually I've been walking a tightrope of the before and after for endless months...but today, as I write this...as I stare at the computer screen waiting for divine inspiration...occasionally fingers flying on those keys, avoiding the matter at hand...I contemplate the road ahead...and while always hoping for the best...praying for the strength for all else...I think this journey of womanhood is really a helluva roller coaster ride...it's a one ticket deal with no second chances...and so I'll continue on...ascend that next hill...eyes open...arms up in the air...yes, even with that, ahem, arm jiggle...screaming, laughing, stomach through the floor...the bracing wind of life through my hair...writing the next chapter...then probably forgetting it the next minute...but mostly, hoping to see you all with me...strapped in beside me...coasting those hills, off to the horizon...

achtung, baby

when I was a little girl, I loved going to see my Dad at work...he was a salesman in a high-end men's retail establishment...everything seemed so big and vast and when I would spot my Dad it was evident to me he was the most important man there...all his co-workers would shake my hand and I can still smell the fresh fabric on display...flash forward and I am 25 starting a new job and as fate would have it, I will be working in the same building as Dad...and so, when I could, I took a mid-afternoon break, forfeiting the traditional lunch hour, and met Dad for bagels and coffee at a hole in the wall next door...Dad never took a lunch hour as that is when his customers came to see him...and I am sure many of you reading this can relate...your dads were factory workers, lawyers, teachers, policemen, firemen, and maybe doctors...but, in the sweet recess of these memories, do you every recall your dad turning to you, saying, "hold this scalpel, dental drill, police revolver, or fire hose"??? Such, it seems to be with Ivanka Trump. Let's get some facts clear. Almost 50% of you didn't bother to vote, so sorry, you really need to sit on the sidelines for the next 3 1/2 years and shut the hell up. And for the rest, I don't care who you voted for really, our election process concluded that Trump is President...if he can't fulfill his duties, the runner-up Pence steps in, and Lord help us, after than Paul Ryan. So Ivanka...well, your dad is not a monarch, in which case, traditionally, the next male would step in, you know Junior...then Eric...Barron...or in some cases, the queen, and finally you, the princess...I don't recall your name on the ballot...anyone else?...these are violent times...the summit in Germany takes on weight as never seen before...please, Speaker Ryan...the learning curve was over when that hand was on the Bible...maybe Constitutional Crib Notes?...Democracy for Dummies?...Ivanka, you said you were not interested in politics...concentrate on the new fall line...and remember the sleeves....