Before marriage and children I traveled often. It was way back in the sixties and seventies. Even when my kids were little I did some traveling with them. I always had a ball and always had someone to talk to if I so chose. When I was single there were single men as well as women. After the kids were there, everyone was wonderful. The stewards and stewardesses (originally ther were only stewardesses) were always wonderful. I remember one flight I took with my boys, then 3 and 1, when we were delayed and delayed. Their schedules were thrown off and when we finally got onto the plane and took off my older son fell asleep immediately. The baby, however, was ready to play. I was completely exhausted. The crew took my baby, fed him, made him a rattle of cocktail shakers and martini glasses and entertained him almost all the way across the atlantic. I slept and was a human being again when we landed. I tried to tip them but they refused and thanked me! I think that they were the most wonderful people. Flying today is nothing like those days. I am in my sixties and do not appreciate having to take off expensive jewelry, my shoes, etc, walk on filthy floors and be questioned by people, some of whom have, I am convinced, IQs in the single digits, And, yes I am an intellectual snob, if by intellectual snob you mean I believe that a person should understand what he/she is saying (the script they must recite) and is able to understand the various answers they are apt to hear in reply. Flying is no longer the fun it once was and while I understand the need for security, I believe that some of the rules are stupid. I will not go into which ones. They are probably the same ones most people feel are ridiculous. This is because they are. The last time I flew was 4 years ago and the march to the plane was probably nowhere as bad and lenghthy as it is today. The flight was okay. We got there safely and we were on time. They offered us pretzels and coffee or another beverage and it was free. (I remember the days of steaming lasagna on Alitalia and coq au vin on Air France. Even the British airlines had edible food.) Most of the people in the vicinity of my seat were tapping away on laptops or were plugged into what I guess were i pods. Were they around then? Maybe predecessors of the i pod? At any rate they were plugged in. I had a book, several magazines, and my sketchbook. There was some knitting in the bag in the overhead rack and that was that. I was set. The woman next to me was also reading and we discussed our books as we both pulled them out at the same time. There was no need to carry on a prolanged conversation. But, you know, I missed the conversation. I have always enjoyed people and listening to them and exchanging ideas. In closing, I have met a few people with whom I’ve formed short term relationships. For example I once spoke to a woman who was visiting Rome at the same time I was and we made plans to meet there and to sightsee together for a few days. We did that. However upon spending real time together we both realized that we really didn’t like one another all that much and that was that. A couple of other “I’ll meet you in Paris.” type things did work out but later died a natural death due to distance.

I forgot the positives! I never have to shave. Ever! It’s the best! No hair on my legs or underarms! There are negatives, of course, like male pattern balding (I am lucky and started out with more hair than anyone has a right to have, so even with the mpb I have more hair than most other people ever have) but I am not complaining. I am also set to begin my second master’s in September.

OMG! Who would ever want to be like a man? I, like Eunice was 13, though it was not considered a late arrival, but right on time. I was fortunate, too. I rarely ever had cramps, never had any PMS, and never considered it a curse. At the age of 48 it was all over and I felt, I don’t really know. I guess I felt disappointed, empty. It wasn’t that I wanted any more children. My youngest was 12 and I was planning his Bar Mitzvah. I was also planning to, maybe, go back for my master’s. I did not need a baby to fill up my days. What bothered me, I think was the fact that I could no longer have children. I have 2 wonderful sons and I never thought of having more. But the fact that despite what I decided, I really couldn’t have any more kids, well that bothered me. I wasn’t depressed, or obviously unhappy. It nagged at me. I would see babies and I would think, I will never have that adventure again. I would remember that I didn’t want that adventure again, but it still nagged at me that I could not make life any more. It took a few years for that feeling to go away. I am now waiting for my daughters-in-law to give me the adventure of being a grandmother. Someday.

I was never terribly thrilled with the way I looked until I went to Italy when I was 23. The first thing I did was dump my American clothes and splurge on Italian things. I discovered that I loved the way I looked in those clothes (and so did the Romans). Ever since that day I have overlooked what little things don’t seem quite right and just have gone for the total look. I feel good about the way I look most of the time (everyone has an off day) and the little things no longer bother me. No one really looks that closely. They’re all worried about their problem areas. Anyway, one little feature should never get to you. I am not my eyes (very small) or my nose (I got my dad’s) or my hips (not too curvy) but how I feel, because that’s what comes through and that’s what people see and what I see when I look in the mirror.

My sons, and of course that means my daughters in law and then there are the cats (none of us can live without the cats), I would need my art supplies because without my art I would go mad. I also have to read. I am now thinking of a long and constantly lengthening list of things I really don’t need but have come to rely on, like the sound of my friend’s voices and my cousin’s watercolors, and the feel of smooth fresh pine just before I cut into it. Most of all I need my kids. Without them, what’s it all about?

Sorry, I thought I was looking at just the one pair. I really don’t like them very much other than the purple and the red and gold. I also remember how these shoes feel. I used to live in Rome in the days of the platform shoes and had an incredible pair that was about 10 or 12 inches high. My heel was lifted about 3 inches, but they were just for show. I couldn’t go too far in them. I loved them and they made my legs look great, but I could do next to nothing in them. I stuck out in a crowd, a little like one of those mediterranean firs, but that was about it. I have graduated to comfortable shoes and I love them. I do not live in pain. It’s great. I really don’t like the look of these shoes, perhaps because I do remember the pain.

truly an ugly shoe. It ruins the line of the leg.

Having it all means that you have no time to enjoy any of it.

Buy it! That’s what a friend told me when I was a lot younger and was (once again) agonizing about buying something I wanted but couldn’t justify buying because I didn’t really need it. She was right. I never thought about it until she said it but as long as you pay your bills and have a little put away, why not indulge yourself? My husband is cheap. I buy all my own jewelry and I buy the best. I just put it on lay away. After all I could be dead tomorrow. Why go with regrets?

It isn’t one thing, it’s two. I have to touch base with my kids at least once a day, even if it’s to say hello and goodbye. fortunately they and their wives understand this little insanity of mine, and because I am otherwise not a pain or overly annoying (I make an effort not to be) they are sweet and tolerate my calls. Also, I am an artist who, due to child rearing and the costs of life, has not given my art the time it required for many years. I need to work every day. It does not need to be in the studio. I can just sketch at the dinner table if the mood strikes me or pull the car over and work if need be. But, when I have to work, I have to work.

My mom was a teriffic cook and a fantastic baker and I was always heavy. When I asked her not to bake she told me she needed baked goods in the house in case someone dropped by and that I didn’t have to eat it just because it was there. Right. My mother’s top weight was 125 pounds when she was 9 months pregnant with me. I have a picture of her in a bathing suit and she looks like she had a big lunch. This is about two weeks before I was born. Food just wasn’t very important to her. I love food. Fried tastes best. I haven’t had anything fried in about 10 years. I am an overweight diabetic with heart disease who has spent her life on and off diets. I lost 113 pounds on weight watchers and gained it back when my marriage went south. It took me 11 months to lose it and 3 years to gain it back. I have tried every healthy and non healthy plan there is including one where you drank this vile tasting liquid made from the hides of animals. No food. I lost 7 pounds in 7 days. Then I read about a woman whose kidneys had failed on this program and I was done with it. I have never been suicidal. I became epileptic at 14 and in an odd way that saved me from my addictive personality. I stayed away from drugs. I never wanted to have a public seizure. Never liked the taste of alcohol so food was what was left. I just have this immense appetite. Now, having had my knees replaced (Still have pain 4 years later) I am looking into lapband surgery. It is said to be able to reverse diabetes and that is my goal. I am doing WW again. Not terribly successful. As for surgery, I have only had my eyelids done and would never put my health in jeopardy, knowingly. Of course, who knew about trans fats and all those other horrors that lurk in our food? I understand women who have surgery to look better. I might do it if I could afford it. Who doesn’t want to look good? When I had my eyes done I didn’t care what anyone else thought. I felt great! That’s one terrific thing about getting older. You just don’t give a damn about anyone else’s opinion. I don’t want to embarrass my sons or their wives, but everyone else can take a flying leap!

As far as mythological characters are concerned I am torn between between Judith and Esther. Both got things done, but in such different ways. I think they were both amazing and courageous. One learns to try anything to reach the right ends. I actually do not think of them as mythological, but … Historically speaking I would have to say Mary Cassatt, a Philadelphia artist (like me, but much more talented, I am afraid) who, nevertheless had to struggle to be accepted and to sell her work. Being an artist is never easy, but it is so worthwhile.