All my friends, sadly, are dead. Nell, Roz, Phyllis, Joan, Rhoda, Betty, Jack, Nick, David, Jerry, Maxine, Gail, Ellen, Susan, Ricki, Annie, and many more. Some remain.
Thankfully, I never get lonely. I like being alone and enjoy solitude. Attachment was never a goal for me... nor did I have a need to "partner up" and become a "we." My mother never nagged: "Get married." My single status never assigned me diminished status. My mother actually told me to be independent and encouraged me to have my own money. "What do you need him for?" was usually her response after I returned home from a Saturday night "date."
But sometimes, after more fall away, I try new ways to connect with others to fill what seems to be a need for communication... so that usually happens on the phone and sometimes the conversations last until well past midnight. Night owls have weird internal clocks.
Last night, I decided to become more active in a facebook group dedicated to singles. I posted a recent photo and several men sent me friend requests. I interacted in messages with a few and after a while I thought: "Marjorie what are you doing? You can't even cook, do yourself a favor and stop wasting their time and just dive down the escape hatch." I knew I preferred at that moment to watch episode 7 of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel. I may go to a doctor. I think I have a severe problem.
Oh, this guy Jack told me yesterday his 8 year old grandson draws better than I do. Ya think? Penis Envy was designed to be The Disaster Artist of books. Basquiat meets Mapplethorpe? Or a poor man's Egon Schiele?
If a banana duct-taped to the wall can sell for $120,000 at Art Basel, my "Vagina Dentata" could be worth some serious money.
LIFE FOR DUMMIES
Life is so surreal
Even after his appeal
All he really got was this deal:
A stay of execution and eventually a final meal
Because even brave men die I feel.
© Marjorie J. Levine 2o23
Not funny? Too soon?
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