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January 22, 2009

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It is the opinion of my daughter's neurologist that:
1. I should date
2. I should get married again
3. I might be a lesbian

Interestingly, 3. was the opinion of a friend of mine as well, when we first met. We met on our first day of work at Sunset Magazine, twenty years ago, and after work I drove him to the Marc train, and on the way we talked, having instantly liked each other.
"I'm gay," he said.
All righty then. Hello, I'm from Connecticut! We don't just announce that kind of thing on the first date. But I knew I had to set the record straight. So to speak.
"I'm not," I replied, and he said, eyes wide, "Really?"
Really.

I guess he thought I was in denial. On the bulletin board in our department we hung photos of ourselves, and over mine he put a little cartoon thought bubble that said, "I don't have a penis and I don't want anyone else to have one."

At this point in my life he might believe I am straight, but I think that's only because he knows I don't actually have any desire either way. Somehow it happened that I am unmoved by brains, brawn, or beauty. It is a sad situation, I know, only it doesn't feel sad, it feels peaceful.

Herself's neurologist is a very interesting man, maybe brilliant, and he has a way of talking to me and asking questions that makes me talk back and answer them. While we should be discussing migraines, CAT scans, EEGs, we talk about my love life. During our conversations I have the idea that this is not the usual way it's done, but nevertheless I can't seem to stop myself from telling him stuff I don't want to tell him, and consequently he now knows my entire spotty history with men.

"You should follow your interests," he urges me, and I wonder what he means by that. And what he has in mind when he says it. "Women need tenderness," he says, and I think, "Isn't that what I have Bob for?"

Posted by JudyLa at 06:00 AM | Comments (0)