The Year of the Monkey

I don't know what the monkey signifies in Chinese astrology.  In my family, the three of them are snakes and I'm a dragon.  I don't know anything about snakes and what I knew about dragons I'd forgotten, except that I wrote about being a dragon in a post,  The Newest Baby Dragon.  

This is not the original image but its spirit is similar to that of my tin.

For me the monkey conjures up an image of impishness and always has.  My first year in college I went to Harvard Square and shopped in a very fanciful 70s store called Truc (was it underground?) and somewhat uncharacteristically but actually characteristic of my urge to buy things for my "someday-children," I purchased a colorful metal tin similar in size to a cigar box except square.  The circus image on its cover starred a smiling monkey on a unicycle center-ring.  This monkey made me smile and being a student of Sociology 101, I decided to flash that tin at the unsuspecting riders on the T (Boston's transit system) to see how they wold react.  Nine times out of ten that monkey would elicit a simple smile or a big grin.  Only occasionally would the person frown or look away in annoyance.

Another impish monkey I think of is the one in Heidi the organ grinder's monkey who delights Shirley Temple by leaping in through the open window, swinging from the chandelier, and wreaking havoc on Frau Rottenmeyer. That monkey made me laugh with his mischievous ways. 

This bag is from Bloomingdale's in New York... 

I fear that somehow Bernie Sanders is a monkey in the minds of the electorate.  He appears impish enough with his straight-talking, spit-in-your-eye Bernie-truths about the ways things need to change. (Single-payer healthcare! Free college!)  And just like that organ grinder's monkey running amok, Sanders keeps upsetting those proverbial apple carts.

Then we've got Trump posturing, postulating, pontificating and preening — the epitome of monkey business.

And there's Ted Cruz — monkeying around with his position on immigration and even Donald Trump.

I guess no matter which side of the fence you're on, seems as if this truly is the Year of the Monkey...

NOT MATCHED by match.com

For the purposes of this post, all names have been altered to spare anyone embarrassment...except for ME.
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Thinking it was finally time to start seeking male companionship I thought, "Why not try match.com?"

I already knew three people — all slightly older than I am and all people I liked — who found five, yes FIVE, successful, happy marriages between them.

Clearly this was an indication that through match.com it was possible to find true love.

And — this is important — there was a free 7-day trial.  What was there to lose?

My sanity for one.

Not to mention time.

First, you answer a series of questions that categorize you and the person you're looking for — in the broadest of terms: physical characteristics, age range, hobbies, likes, religious and social habits.  Fair enough.

Next, you write a profile...how much or how little is up to you.  I simply said I was looking for someone to share a meal, movie or museum visit with — I wrote next to nothing because I just didn't know what I wanted to say. And yet soon my inbox was filling with all sorts of unknown and difficult-to decipher communications.  

There's 

a "wink" 
                 a "like" 
                                a "chat" 
                                                 possibly leading to ... an email.

At first, it seemed novel and fascinating...guys were reaching out to me, wanting to contact me, liked me!  Each communication I opened was a new possibility, an opening in the closed universe I'd been living in this past year.  I clicked on the link to view their profile, looked at their photo (if there was one), and then read how they described themselves and what they said they were looking for in a woman.

Some wrote gushingly; others forthrightly, some with humor.  Some put next to no effort; everyone was looking for the love of their life.  

Often when I'd click on someone who really looked promising, I'd get:

The profile you're looking for is not available at this time.

Instead take a look at these.

It made no sense. Where were they? Why weren't they available to see? 

And then there were the ones I was able to see.  Well, they were time-consuming.

I'd read through and be interested but then — then I'd see that the guy was in his 30s or 40s or be living in Miami, Baylor, Texas, San Diego, even Nashua, New Hampshire or Butte, Montana! What the F**K? Why would anyone be trying to date someone that lived states away?  MY profile I said I was looking for someone within 20 miles of New York City...how was this filter not working?

It took me three days to figure out that I wasn't actually seeing my "mutual matches." To see the guys who fit what I was looking for, I had to go to Search Mutual Matches...and then a whole crop of pics and profiles popped up.  And it took me that long to figure out that there were people who were just looking for an electronic pen pal. Someone to add a little vicarious excitement to one's life and "chatting" through match was a way to do this. 

Love2loveU thought I wrote "a lovely profile that makes me want to get to know you" and worldtraveller "enjoyed my profile and thinks "we could meet for coffee and start a conversation ..I'm looking for a serious relationship, but leave me a text and I will send you one." Or TruthfulOne who emailed "I wanted so much to meet you from your profile and pic. You have this intriguing and intense look about you that I love it. I would enjoy talking with you... " and more and more and more. But their emails often seemed as intense as a therapy session.  Way too much information for an opening salvo and far too revealing for my sensibilities.  It just seemed insincere and uncomfortable.

I went through those mutual matches but anyone who said they played basketball five times a week, or put camping and hiking first on their list of interests or said they were "God-fearing" or "NEVER" drank, well these were clearly not the best matches for me.

If they were looking for "athletic and toned," not me.

If they were looking for someone who wanted to settle down for prolonged kisses and a life together, well, that just wasn't me at this moment.

Eventually, after days and hours of sorting, reading, deleting, replying, "You look nice but you're too far away...good luck in the search!", I got down to three men that looked good to me, sounded nice, had similar interests and were in New York City. [Or so I thought.]

I decided to email a message expressing interest.  And they each replied.

All looking for true love, a "one-man woman," someone who wouldn't break their hearts.

One was in Shanghai on extended business.

The next was in Brazil.

The last was deployed in Iraq handling bombs and ammunition, not due back until end of March. (Or was he? Turns out there's a huge scam of men claiming to be in the military but simply wanting some electronic entertainment from the wife, and saying you're in the military gets you a free pass from any one-on-one involvement.)

It left me totally, totally, TOTALLY confused and disappointed.  I just want to sit across from another human being at a Starbucks and talk.  Is that so impossible?

How are people successful at this?  

What am I NOT getting?

On day seven, I was relieved to quit the whole thing and give up on the online version of the dating game.  The thought of trying eHarmony or OurTime made me squirm.

Time to go back to the old-fashioned way.

Tried going in to a neighborhood bar by myself for a glass of wine, just hoping to meet some other singles to talk to but couldn't do it.  I just stood outside the door looking in or walked back and forth thinking I'd propel myself inside, but didn't have the nerve to go in...

Know someone you want to introduce me to?? 

It's CYBER-TIME

Well, I am under strict instructions from a dear, dear friend to write something that will make her laugh or at least smile.  With everything going on in my life I feel overwhelmingly sad so much of the time that I’m wallowing in grief.  But I guess this wise woman (Shirley) is telling me that I need to find some humor in the world…so, I’ll guess I’ll table my “Mourning the Marriage” post for the moment and try...

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On the bus ride in to Manhattan — the Vamoose bus I might add — not to be confused with the Megabus or the Bolt bus — this was the VAMOOSE bus — and as we were vamoosing our way through New Jersey into the Big Apple, there it was — 
a big huge billboard message screaming out to me — 

How’s YOUR Cyber-Hygiene?

Geez.  My cyber-hygiene?  

I got enough problems with my personal hygiene. 

When it comes to personal hygiene, I don’t know.  I’m not a germaphobe.  I don’t fanatically wash my hands.  I don’t use hand sanitizer of ANY kind.  Does it make me an unclean person?

I also have given up on being hairless which apparently is a sign of excellent personal hygiene (for females). 

I mean you LOVE the lustrous mane of hair on my head but that same hair elsewhere on my body?  No way!  Get rid of it!  It’s not attractive!     But why? 

To me that hypocrisy is the same as the people who look with horror at those elsewhere in the world who eat horse or dog.  How’s that any different than eating cow or pig?  

Cause we somehow erased the actual animal by calling it beef and pork?  Are you kidding me?

And if my personal hygiene weren’t enough of a worry there’s my FEMININE hygiene to grapple with…

Why is it that Matthew McConaughey can go without showering or using deodorant and his body odor is considered “masculine musk” (with great appeal to the ladies) but if a woman doesn’t cleanse and perfume and use expensive products to completely mask HER body scent, she just SMELLS.

Personal hygiene, my feminine hygiene, now there’s CYBER hygiene to worry about. Geez.

                       

Speaking of cyber hygiene…the NJCCIC...the New Jersey Cybersecurity & Communications Integration Cell (the WHAT?) wants you to know that October is Cyber Security Awareness Month and they're asking — 

“Due for a cyber hygiene check?  We can help.”

Well, thank God SOMEONE can help. 

I’m gonna give these folks a call and while I’ve got them on the phone, maybe THEY can give me some pointers on my you-know-what…

[Shirley?  Are you laughing?]

This Needs To STOP

Today, I was struck by an exhibit at the National Museum of African Art at the Smithsonian entitled

The Divine Comedy: Heaven, Purgatory, and Hell Revisited by Contemporary African Artists

The introduction asked visitors:

What do your fears look like? Are they located in the dark or in a blinding light? Do they feel hot or hopelessly cold? And what or who is it that scares you or deserves your condemnation? People and places fracturing and splitting apart? Forces of nature spun out of control? A senseless war in which men blow off one another’s heads? The artists in this section explore these questions and others, for hell can be found in a passion for land or religion if it leads to war; it can even be embodied by a beached whale. This is a hell in which we never see ourselves and others fully but always in bits and pieces. What would your hell look like?

That last question?  I thought about it and very quickly something popped into mind.

For much of my adult life I have had the same nightmare.

It usually involves me in some dire situation, often being chased or threatened by a man, desperately trying to get someone's, anyone's attention and yet, when I open my mouth to scream for help — nothing comes out.

Nothing.

No scream. No yell.  No screech.  No sound.

It often ends with me waking — in a complete sweat, shaking and feeling horrible.

Occasionally, very small, hoarsely whispered cries of " Help ! "  " Help !! " do escape and rouse my husband who then gently awakens me to say, "You're having a bad dream."

It IS a bad dream, a hellish dream in fact, that always rattles me to my core and leaves me feeling vulnerable and shaken.

And what really disturbs me is that whenever I mention this, I've heard several women (even my friend's mother) share that they too have this same sort of nightmare.  A nightmare where mouth open, no sound emerges and horrifyingly they are unable to call for help.

Why?

Do men ever experience this dilemma in a dream?  Or is it only women?

Recently, I was profoundly disturbed by a documentary I watched on Netflix — 

IT HAPPENED HERE

... a compelling new documentary from director Lisa F. Jackson and producer Marjorie Schwartz Nielsen, explores sexual assault on campuses through the personal testimonials of five survivors who transform their experiences into a springboard for change.

In raw and intimate interviews, the students describe surviving sexual assault only to be met with apathy, disbelief, blame and retaliation from the authorities when they tried to report the crime. When they tried to get justice, they were ignored, belittled and shamed, while their attackers remained on campus with impunity. But instead of hiding away in shame, they chose to speak out, and found a way to force institutional change. 

[from the website http://www.ithappenedhere.org]

We live in a culture that accepts rape.  The rape of women during wars; the rape of women by abusive partners; the rape of women in the military; the rape of women on college campuses.

I can't imagine what their nightmares are like and the hell that each has gone through.  

In this film five young women summon the courage and resolve to speak up and yet their voices are ignored and while my nightmare, is not about rape, it IS about feeling completely and utterly powerless.

Feeling powerless is a hell.  

It's time for all of us to work to end the way women who have been raped are treated. There is NO justification for excusing rape.

If you are someone on a college campus, in a military institution, a police station, or in any way privy to helping a survivor of rape, just imagine the person opposite you is your sister, daughter, mother or friend, and STAND UP.

It's time for all our voices to rise up in a very loud crescendo and say,

NO MORE.

What can we do to stop this?  What can YOU do to stop this nightmare ?

I'm Bettin' on HGTV

homeless:  having no place to live; having no home or permanent place of residence

Lately I keep thinking:  How am I going to find a new home?

Let's clarify that I am not actually homeless.  It is insensitive to even say that I am because there are so many people who are homeless, who lack a roof over their heads.  That is not my situation.  Currently I'm staying in the lovely home of my friend Elena with a floor all my own, a room that is incredibly comfortable and now decorated with artwork of my own choosing.  But as welcome as she's made me — it's her home.  

I could go back to the house my husband and I own, but that would be a temporary and perhaps awkward fix.  

I am feeling homeless.

I need to find a new place to call home. (And it can't cost a lot.)

I watch Tiny House Nation and Tiny House, Big Living.   I thought perhaps I should find a small plot of land near where I'd like to be and pay for someone really skilled and really clever to build me a tiny, tiny house that I could call home.  But at less than 400 square feet (in order to qualify as "tiny" vs. "small"), well, that's probably not a realistic idea for a collector-type like me.  

Then I thought maybe I could win a home of my own by entering HGTV's Home Giveaway Sweepstakes — which are many.  At any given moment there are two or three absolutely spectacular homes, totally furnished, that these folks are aching to give away.  For most of their sweepstakes, you can enter online twice a day at HGTV.com for your chance to win the perfect home (of someone's dreams) in the perfect location.  

There are Smart Homes and Urban Oases and Blog Cabins...and there's extra cash, prizes and more, so, this seemed a practical way to begin.  When I first became aware of these giveaways, there was one in Charleston, South Carolina (not far from where I am now) and then an Urban Oasis in Boston, Massachusetts (I've always liked Boston; near my friends Lizzie, and Linda & Jim). 

Unfortunately I missed out on both and the 2014 HGTV Dream Home giveaway in Lake Tahoe.  I imagined this house would better connect me to my nephew who loves and visits Lake Tahoe frequently from the Bay area.  If I had this home, well, it certainly would be a gathering place for all the skiing enthusiasts.

"Built in the style of New Mountain architecture, this home offers a modern twist on the traditional, rustic mountain house."  

I'd say it looks comfy enough for a non-skiing type like me.

2014: Lake Tahoe, California

Following those losses, next there was the HGTV Smart Home, "a modern Austin farmhouse" that went to lucky Isabel V. of Harlingen, Texas.  This house — if I'd won it — I thought might work for my friend Liz' son Lucas who lives in Austin and is getting married next year...

I'd say this seems like a pretty nice master bedroom to start one's married life.

And then the next disappointment, and this was a BIGGIE:  not winning 2015's Martha's Vineyard getaway — cause Katherine O. of Huntsville, Alabama won it.  They even have a video of her and her husband getting the key and touring the house. She sure does look happy.  Why wouldn't she? This package giveaway was worth $2,000,000!   Lucky HER.  




And I'd so hoped to become Vineyard neighbors with my friends Victor and Judie — sigh — it's not happenin'.

Disappointment won't stop me.  I get my email reminders.  There's still a chance for the 2015 Urban Oasis. This "newly renovated 1920s bungalow is a haven of relaxed charm in the heart of Asheville, NC."  I wanna relax.

My friend Judie (in Martha's Vineyard) might really like the artwork above this bed...cause of the doggie in those cute boots.
 And isn't this art more Vineyard than Asheville?

Personally, I'm more taken with the stylish piece below which reminds me of very decorative paint can lids very artistically arranged...

Well, if I don't get picked as the winner for this Asheville Urban Oasis, there's always the DIY Network Blog Cabin, "a modern mountain retreat located in Coeur d'Alene, Idaho."  While the view IS beautiful, I do think this choice is rather too remote for a non-outdoorsy type like me...

Maybe blabbing about this wasn't the smartest idea — because if all you readers out there go ahead and start entering, well — it would certainly reduce MY chances of winning, but then again, 
UH-OH...gotta go.  I just got my email reminder to "Get 2 More Chances to Win Right Now!" telling me 
"You're a Minute Away From 2 More Chances to Win!"  because it's time to...

Win a Beautifully Furnished House, Plus a Car and $50,000 Cash!

Hey — don't laugh.  This could be my lucky day.