The LesbosBuyaRadiator...

LesbosOnTheCouch by Beth C, one of the Lesbos

We needed a heater. Well, I don't know how much I need one, with the rate at which I am consumed by the Hot and Bitchies (my pet name for my Heat Flashes). But it is December and my Wife, she needed a heater.

Our houses are built to keep in the cool air…A good thing in a Mediterranean climate…but with the winter upon us – well, the house is just too cold to sit in during the day without a winter coat – which makes working on the computer – and doing anything else indoors, a bit of a challenge. So, after doing a wee bit of on line research, off we went to get a radiator.

Radiator…in my mind the word radiator conjures up all kinds of weird and fantasia-like images. I imagine an apartment in Brooklyn, with the radiator clanging as the heat is finally turned on. I imagine a beautiful old house in the city, with the radiator painted green to match the walls. My mind then wonders off to hearths, fireplaces and gas heaters and hot soup, deliciously made by my Wife's loving hands.

Now I am just hungry. And even a bit cold. What was I writing about? Oh, yeah, the radiator expedition. So we went out to do our morning errands. I couldn't find the number 2 on the ATM machine, so after 3 tries the machine 'swallowed' my card. Bon Appetite.  Apparently the ATM was thinking about something warm and tasty too, got hungry and greedily ate my card…

Back to the heater…My Wife and I go into the local electrical appliance shop. We say that we are looking for a radiator. The salesman says that they have only two brands; one, well-made (in theory…a theory which we intend to test) and a less expensive, not so good brand. We are surprised that in the middle of the winter they only have these two but after some discussion, we decide to splurge on the better seeming one of the two.

We go to pay. We've shopped in this store before, so the salesman says that they 'have us on record.' At least they say they do. They actually have my Wife on record -but with the wrong name, the wrong address and the wrong phone number…but who's to say that this is not really her anyway? After some convincing, the salesman's boss instructs him to change her details in the computer (for some reason, this was not part of the 'keep the customer happy' instruction that the salesman has obviously been to. How do I know he went to a 'keep the customer happy' course? Well, as we were paying, I notice two other brands of radiators. When I ask about these, the salesman replies that, "they don't really work, so I didn‎'t tell you about them. They just run on air. "

I see, I say and then burst into hysterical fits of Hot and Bitchy laughter. My Wife asks the salesman, "If they don't work, why do you keep them in the store? "

"We have to. Somebody may want them anyway" he says…

I am giggly like a mad cow the whole way home.  And now for the soup…

 

Rescinded~~LesbosOnTheCouch to be Recognized, Part I and 3/4

LesbosOnTheCouch by Beth C, one of the Lesbos

So…my Love and I, that is to say, my Wife and I went today to the Internal Ministry to get registered as married on our identification papers.  There is a bit more paper work than we originally thought. We need to get an Atilis or and Atalit or was it an Astelles or A Stella or maybe it was an Apostle?  – No it was an Apostille… What? That's right, an apostille. An apostille is a certification issued by the legal authorities of a state certifying that a document issued by the state is official, authentic and issued by the legal authorities.…

Isn't that amazing? – we are able to get recognized as married in the State of Israel…I am amazed…after all, people love to tell us that we live in a backward,  third world country…but when it comes to us LesbosOnTheCouch, we are able to be who we are.

I have to admit it was a bit frustrating not being able to get it done on the spot and finding out we do have to go and get some more paper work done…but it can be done and it will be done. We are accepted here.

Whew--- I don't know what I would have done if it wasn't accepted. Truly, after reading about all the struggles around the world to be accepted…I am relieved that I live in a place where I can be me.

I guess I don't have much to say today. It was a hard week around the world…although it is a cliché – a little love and acceptance goes a very long way. And guns--- wouldn't be necessary if we could all remember to love.- But there are others who have said it so much better...

"All the particles of the World are in Love and looking for Lovers."
~Rumi

"In the blackest of your moments, wait with no fear."
~Rumi

The Girdle - Gramma's or My Own?

LesbosOnTheCouch by Beth C, one of the Lesbos

The Girdle

Sometimes I feel like my life is being lived inside a girdle…you know the kind – the things that our grams used to wear- and that even I wore for ''in honor'' of my son's nuptials…(who am I, my Gram? I wish! Is that where all this came from? My Gram or the girdle?)

What does it mean to live inside a girdle? Well, it is definitely not as fun as living inside a chocolate mousse. Although living inside a chocolate mousse might eventually necessitate living inside a girdle…unless all I did was live inside the mousse without eating it…That would require a good amount of disassociation. I can do that!

My therapist used to tell me that I was the 'queen of disassociation'…I could disassociate, not feel or react to anything…She rejoiced with me as she/we tore that wall down and I began to feel and see and express the things that I had been avoiding…

Now, some 20 years later, I feel like I need to have a girdle. So I bought one to wear for the occasion. It held my belly and butt in place and I didn't jiggle at all! All was well – the occasion was over and no jiggling or inappropriate age behavior occurred. The girdle served its purpose. The girdle was soft and strong and sturdy…A lover's dream…the girdle was soft and safe and held me together… Held me together all to well -now I think I want to live inside this girdle. It is a bit tight and way too snug for comfort –but if I hold my self well enough it is quite bearable.

I am afraid that if I 'let myself out ' of the girdle I don't know what will become of me. With the girdle, I am now...the me that everybody 'knows' and the me that some of us love…What if the person that bursts out of that girdle is gruff and mean and a loud bitchy lesbian instead of the quiet unassuming giggly one?…What if I am not fun to be around? What if I have opinions that make people angry? What if I disagree with allot of people? What if I tell them that I disagree with them? What if I don't want to be nice to everyone? What if the person who I become is a truly bitchy bitch who has lots of anger that needs to be shouted out…What if coming out of that girdle means that I want to shout and be angry?  And then, what if I want to shout and be angry but I still can't find the voice for that anger? What if I can't do this? What if?

Maybe I'll just stay here inside the girdle for a while longer…after all – there are a whole lot of angry people out there. The world does not need another one…certainly not another bitchy, angry lesbian – on or off the couch…

Good nite!

Lesbos Journey to the Others' Land

LesbosOnTheCouchby Beth C, one of the Lesbos

Here I am…it is winter…it has already been such an eventful winter filled with so much emotion.

My eldest son got married ---as you may have heard -to the most amazing woman…I love their love. I love them. I am so happy for them and feel them so blessed…

The wedding of my eldest son ---the day took forever…the choosing of the day…the making plans, the where and when and when again…finally we are off…

Our Journey to my Other's land….

We started off in Atlanta – a visit to my brother was the first stop…my Love and I, my Wife (now twice married to me – more on that later…) disembarked at the wonderful Atlanta International Airport…International – really? So sophisticated they are in Atlanta…As we headed for passport control, we approached the booth together. This is what we do. This is what all married couples do in all civilized countries…

Are you two related? asks the MAN

We are married. I answer.

He looks at me. He looks at my wife.

You get back behind the line ma'am…He says shaking his head and pointing at me.

He takes my Wife's passport and processes her entry into the Great United States of America, Atlanta version.

Next he shouts when he's finished with her and sees her passport in order. As I approach his booth…again…She waits for me at the end of his booth…

Move along – he waves her off ---move along…

I guess Atlanta and Ahmed the Dinner Jacket have more in common then they know.

2 

I do not like to travel. I hate to fly…I do like to be away from home…but this was different…My eldest was having his wedding and not Hurricane Sandy, not a bunch of gun toting, gay –phobic, southern crazies and not anything was going to stop this from happening with us there…THEY were getting married ---and we were going to be there…so there we went…we're off to Houston Texas, the wonderful world of Oz…where everything is so polite and smiley that even the stewards on the plane looked like plastic…

We are sorry miss, we've over booked the flight and we have no room for your luggage, says the sugary sweet and plastic flight attendant. You can send your luggage on a later flight.

Huh? I say, my son is getting married and the wedding gifts are staying with me.

Well then, you can also take a later flight with your luggage, says the same sugary plastic flight attendant.

Maybe you don't understand, I reply, equally sweet and sugary, my son is getting married- I’m the mother of the groom!!! We ordered and paid for these tickets and our luggage 6 months ago. We and our luggage are staying on this flight!

Well then ma'am, maybe you want to ask these people already seated to move their things from the compartments above…

Now, I have seen this before. The sugary sweet, blond and steely blue eyed All American flight attendants had never met me before.

Sure, I say. Okay, I say…and begin opening up the overhead compartments, removing coats, computer bags and anything smaller then several loaves of bread.

Who does this belong to? I say with each item I bring down. As my fellow passengers answer slowly and with a combined vocalization of fear mixed with much hesitation; I say without hesitation and with the absolute certainty of my just place on this earth, no matter what these southerners think…Are you willing to put this between your legs so that I can get to my son's wedding?

Much to the credit of my fellow passengers, each of them took their possessions and allowed me my preordained and already paid for space…and we flew, almost without additional incident, to Houston, Texas for the wedding…I say almost, because the moving of the luggage caused me to injure myself and bleed all over….Well, if the flight attendants where docile until that point, the sight of my blood sent them into an absolute tizzy of movement and they actually brought me – a BANDAID!!! How great is that!

3

Texas, here we are!!!

 

My son and his fiancé decided to get married in her mother's Buddhist Temple.

We went to this wedding – my Love and I. It was in Texas. That is right – LesbosOnTheCouch spent an entire amazing week in Texas! Luckily, we were accepted and welcomed by my new daughter's family…I didn't feel weird at all…well, no more weird than usual. They were wonderful and accepting…Yes folks, even in Texas, there can be acceptance.

We did the whole wedding thing…we helped the new couple prepare for the wedding – we got our mannies (although why they are called this is beyond me – there was not a single 'manni' in the place – just us gals!) I wanted to get my nails turquoise, but the maid of honor said that wasn't age appropriate (I didn't know that at fifty there is such a thing…was there a danger of swallowing the smaller turquoise color nails?) Anyway, after a few mimosas, the color didn't really matter to me…as long as it was shiny (My bad!). So, the lovely grey color (age appropriate and matches everything) was soon covered with many, many layers of glitter…apparently glitter is the new fifty for groom's moms…

The Groom's moms…yes, there were certainly enough of us!!! Three to be exact!!!

My son's mom and her wife (the LesbosOnTheCouch) came a few days early to meet my new daughter's family and help with the arrangements.

My son's dad and his lovely Haitian wife and their beautiful infant son (my sons' half-brother) came as well. During the wedding, they walked down the aisle before me and my wife.

My new daughter's mom and her brother walked down the aisle after us.

Then the groom, my son walked down the aisle followed by his best man and brother, followed by his groomsmen …

Then the bridesmaids and then the bride and her dad…

The walk down the aisle was exceptionally colorful if not exceedingly long…my poor son had to wait through an eternity of moms and dads until his beloved finally arrived!

I have never seen such a lovely wedding. I have never seen such a beautiful couple…with such wonderful love surrounding them! And the Venerable…If I was uncertain of the ceremony….I was at home with the ceremony and his words…Respect and love…those are the keys….

It was all so beautiful. I've never been to a Buddhist wedding before. It was all about respect and love…about caring for one another…about acceptance and about life...The monks, the words, the music the colors…It is my prayer for them that all that was said remains with them always.

4

NYC

We have arrived…our Plan Of Action – to have fun and to get married in city hall…WE DID IT….and it was beautiful.

After my son's wedding, in a somewhat less extravagant but equally meaningful (for us anyway), my Love and I tied the knot again. This time we wed in an ''official civil service'' courtesy of the state of New York. My son and daughter (I love saying that) and terrific friend came with us as the State of New York proclaimed us official…Officially wed, we are…the LesbosOnTheCouch! For all of you out there, struggling with this action, take heart…the ceremony was significant, but our love is what prevails, legal or not.

True- I almost screwed it up – didn't have enough numbers in my paperwork….and the bureaucracy almost did us in… my love, my wife and one of my oldest friends discussed their mutual ''dislike'' of people (as they sat together on the couch waiting for our turn to exchange our vows of eternal love – apparently of each other alone.

With all of this wedding and love and celebration…this trip was not without sorrow. The terrible flooding by hurricane Sandy just the week before and the war at home, Pillar of Cloud, while we wed in New York. Sadness and apprehension overshadowing our adventure…The world outside our own persons and relationships always finds a way to sneak in, one way or another.

What else did we do? We saw the off Broadway play – Five Lesbians and a Quiche. We went to the MET and MOMA…we walked and walked, we rode the subway and walked some more. We visited the places we hadn't seen and some we have…we ate, we drank…we played, we cried…we loved, we sang, we danced and played…but in the end…there is no place like Home.

New York is my past…but not my future. My younger son went home and war looms and is…Even as the war over there is fought with guns and hate, the lack of understanding and compassion here is magnified and I long to get on the plane and go Home…with my Wife to our life…our real life…real love…real life.