Terrific mornings....

LesbosOnTheCouch by Beth C, one of the Lesbos

There are these terrific mornings...I wake up early, my love makes me a cupa and I go off to work – just knowing that she will be there for me when I come home. I get to the office – it’s still quiet.

The thing about the quiet…it doesn’t really last…soon the hustle and bustle begins- mostly in my head – Strangely enough I am focused all day…I mean truly focused.  I make my calls, write my reports and prepare the plans and more reports for the next day, week…I don’t hear the people around me unless they sing my name…and even then they aren’t really there…just movements outside the head….(ok, so I exaggerate…I love these people too….even if I don’t really see them)

And then I go home…If it is not yet dark, the drive is pleasant. I love the drive when the sun is shining and the music is blasting – sometimes I put in an old CD – yes, I am a Joan Baez and John Denver diehard. I love sitting in the car singing the old tunes….Country roads, taking me home to the place I belong…..the night they drove old Dixie down…while I sing low sweet chariot, coming to take Oscar Mayer home…just as Someone Saves my life tonight – right before the Bitch is Back from the boxer and the fighter and a nnnnaaaa by my name I carry a reminder of every,,,blllaala til I cry out –I am leaving I am leaving but the fighter still remains singing la da de dadadada….And then – Daylight Comes and We Are Home…aaayyoh…AAAAAAAAyoooooo! Daylight comes and we are home////

But as soon as I walk in the door – it all changes. My Love envelopes me in her warmth and caring – looks me I the eyes and loves me too.

And then the silly – the Loopy begins…Here I am, loopy again….ah ah…the race to crazy has begun…I don’t even need a beer – and I am rhyming nonsense and speaking the language of the babbling wo-man. Soon the old songs, mostly commercials come in – sometimes with a twist…you know the Oscar Mayer one …the rocking the booty in the bosom of Abraham…or maybe shooting the sheriff, but not the deputy.- I love shooting the sheriff – and did you know that once upon a time they shot a canary? And soon the giggles begin…the giggles can be extremely dangerous…they usually come with some very loud and fragrant booming – (I recently learned the word Dutch Oven – who would have thought? Do you think the Dutch know?)

And who knew about Toe Jam? Not me , we didn’t have Toe Jam growing up – just the regular grape jelly…but Toe is special. Apparently when you get into bed at night the sheets are hungry and the toes so kindly share their jam with the sheets  - And THE BLANKETS.  And watch out – soon the whole bed bottom is covered. This means, no putting your head down there – no twisting the blankets with the toe jam side up to the face – toe jam is ok as long as its by the feet – but watch out – if it hits the face and you get toe jam on the face – or the Nose…well…that is just not ok;..and that brings me to the nose.

Have you ever noticed that noses come in 2 forms; hard and smooshy. I, have the smooshy kind. My nose can be squooshed almost completely flat to my face –Admittedly with some breathing difficulty. My love – her nose is hard. Her nose, doesn’t bend, mush or even move – even when she is laughing hysterically running to the ‘other room’, her nose just get a little crinkle…and that’s it…Who would have thought. I have a theory. I don’t think that smooshy noses can be with other smooshy noses. I think that one nose must be smooshy so that when you kiss the other nose can smoosh it…and the kiss can still be good.

Any way…At some point you must wonder, what exactly did you hear through the grape vine and how? You can no more hear something through a grape vine that I can squoosh my loves nose to her face or get her to agree to put head on the Toe Jam side of the bed even if it is The Midnight Special, while someone saves my life tonight as I roll around the basement floor ----whoo whhooo whooo – Dutch Oven coming, warning warning….woops to late- an oh no we put the fan on – Dutch oven on the face-

What a life.

Shower me a Blue Fridge...

LesbosOnTheCouch by Beth C, one of the Lesbos

It’s a holiday- we are all to be dressed in white…Everyone looks so lovely.

In the wooded area, dark and green and cool the little girls are running and skipping, while their elders sit on the benches by the picnic table, sipping their coffees and wine. In the distance we can hear the gentle babbling of the water as it falls down its soft algae covered slope into the pool below. The water from the pool can be seen from a certain angle as the sunlight plays though the leaves of the trees and sends sparkles of light dancing in the air.

Off in the corner of the clearing there is a refrigerator. A line of girls, still in there play clothes wait their turn. Apparently the fridge is actually a shower room, but we are all hesitant…How can we get in there to shower with all of those refrigerator shelves?

The girls open and close the door…and open and close the door again. I really want to take a shower and put on my white dress too…But I can’t figure it out…how will I fit in there with all of those shelves…I look for my Love – I know that she will have the answer.

My Love comes up to me and takes my hand…she opens the door to the fridge and steps in. As she does I see that the fridge is actually a much larger room with shower heads sprouting from pipes that line the walls and the ceiling. A little girl is sitting at the entrance. She was the first to go in, no questions asked – she knew …She’s already showered and sits on the floor in her white dress which looks yellow and quite frilly in the off white light of the fridge. She is smiling and giggling as she puts on her shoes. Her hair is short and straight around her head with bangs just above her eyes. Her face is round and freckled. The happy seven year old ties buckles her shoes and my Love points me into the shower as she stands by the door keeping watch.

I shower with great difficulty. The shower heads are all over and they go off and on as if independently orchestrating a concert of water and spray.

After my shower, I want to put on my white dress and run and skip and sip my wine…I open the bag, which is my dress and shake it out. Hey, it’s green and short and snaps at the legs…

I guess I will stay in my jeans…and sneakers…and have a beer. Where are the fridge shelves anyway?

Self realization -Really?

LesbosOnTheCouch by Beth C, one of the Lesbos

“Write with your non dominant hand ten things that you are thankful for.” This was an exercise given to me by my acupuncturist, trying to help, me deal with a deep back pain that we decided was connected to stress…imagines that – stress!!! Who could possibly be so stressed that her back just decides not to cooperate with living for an entire week? Absurd! What on earth do I – or anybody else for that matter have to be stressed about?  Somehow we came to the idea that this stress is connected to my self realization. How is this even possible – or sensible? I am, after all, forty nine years old. Could I still not be self realized? If I am not self realized now, when exactly is this going to happen?

Of course I am self realized! I am here aren’t I? I’ve got this pen in my hand and I’m writing aren’t I? (And yes, I still write with an actual pen, or even a p e n c i l, on paper!!) I am married to the Woman of my dreams. I write whenever I get a few minutes away from the job that pays the rent. I read. I laugh allot with my love and with my friends. I eat. I sleep. I pray. I pray allot. I laugh allot, too. I’d say I’m pretty self realized. Wouldn’t you?

Well, then why am I so afraid? Why does this panic grab me in the chest and squeeze me so hard –straight through to my spine- I can barely breathe? Why does this panic seize my muscles and freeze me into an ice cube so hard and stiff that if dropped, I’d shatter into a million pieces before melting into a puddle, barely noticed on the floor, to be wiped up and tossed away?

And if I am not realized now, when will I be? If the past years are any indication of the speed of time, then the next bunch of years will definitely pass too quickly to realize anything else at all, let alone my self.

Will I get to know my grand children? Will my children return to me? Will that be the sign of my self realization, when my offspring realize me? Or, will I be self realized when I am lying in the ground, covered with sand and dirt and rock, one with the earth? I think that is when it will take place, my self realization….one with the earth, one with my maker, one with The Maker….Self realization me as part of The Whole.

So, forgive me, I am rambling, yet again…I am going to do it… The exercise….Ten things that I am thankful for, written with my non dominant hand…

1. I am thankful for the love I have received.
2. I am thankful for the love I receive now.
3. I am thankful for healthy children.
4. I am thankful for my Love.
5. I am thankful for the Creator whose sun warms my body.
6. I am thankful for the laughter.
7. I am thankful for the crazy.
8. I am thankful for the breeze in this hot summer.
9. I am thankful for the sleep that gives my mind the much needed rest from my crazy.
10. Beer. I am thankful for my beer.

and more Double D

LesbosOnTheCouch by Beth C, one of the Lesbos

and more Double D....

Jane goes back to the preparation room where the Juniors anxiously ready themselves ~ "Well JJ's – looks like I won't be with you for the readying process but, fear not – You are in good hands. Just remember all that you have learned and no harm will come to you and if it does, well, RUN!!!" says Jane with a wink and a smirk.

Jane has changed into her formal whites – which are the same as her informal whited, except whiter and shinier, the white linen of her formals mixed with a very fine silk that reflects the sun's rays and the moon's halos. She returns to the office of the Cowander in Chief where she is to receive the exact coordinates for the intersex meet, but a surprise awaits her.

The Cowander is Chief says, "Jane, I know this has been a long time in coming…We, the top of the Woman's Forward Movement have decided that a change must take place before the intersex meet. Women…" (In walk Kate and 2 other top WFM officials.)

"Jane, we send you on this mission not only as our ambassador but as a warrior – a defender of the principles of womanhood and all that she embodies. As such we empower you to negotiate freely and with full authority. We, your comrades give you this…( a pin is presented and pinned on her upper collar). You are now Jane, Double D 2^nd Cowander of the Woman's Forward Movement. "

Ordinarily such a presentation would not be made so ordinarily. Ordinarily there would be a big party with plenty of pomp and circumstance. Today however is different, the intersex meet is scheduled to take place and the future of the WFM as well as the ML are in the balance. There is no time to think and no time to celebrate.

Jane leaves the office of the Cowander in Chief a bit dazed but she quickly recovers and heads straight for the portopad where her transporter awaits her.

Jane, in addition to being the highest ranking Judoist in the WFM, is also an Ace pilot, having clocked many hours as a rogue driver in the days before the WFM initiated transformation and advantation for women of the planet, before women could be full Belted Fighters.

As Second Cowander Jane Double D gets into her new dome shaped transporter her mind begins to wonder and she sees herself so many years before, maybe 20 years back, to her first transporter – if you could call it that. It wasn’t even dome shaped – more of an uneasy lump – bright red in color. It was an eye sore –It stuck out like a bright red pimple on an otherwise clean and clear white telepad. But, it was hers and, it was her first was her first. She remembers with fondness, it’s loud and smoky takeoffs and near crash landings. She remembers it with a fondness the way she remembers all of her first loves – Her first Virlican sea crab, her first Irish truffle, her first man, her first woman.

Jane shakes off the urge to reminisce and focuses on the task at hand. For Jane, the new Second Cowander, the ability to compartmentalize and redirect her focus at any given moment was one of the gifts that made her who she was and got her the recognition she deserved. Although she might argue that this recognition came about only after the male/female split, that fact is, that even before the advent and coming into power of the WRM, Jane’s abilities and innate talent for focusing and analysing any given situation was recognized fairly early on. The only problem was that before the WFM, all the praise Jane received got her exactly nowhere. She was not able to move up the ranks and most of her ideas practicalities where implemented by her male counterparts. ..mostly without so much as a thank you – but a whispered kind of silent acknowledgement that ‘this’ could only have been done with Janes amazing brain.

And here she is, some 25 years later, fully respected and openly acknowledged as being one of the leading political and analytical diplomatic figures of all time….And in both the WFL as well as the Men’s League...

------------------------------------------------------------
You see, I need to write...I really do...
My question remains, What do you want to read? Should I blah blah bla about my life and how my Love and I blindly forge forward while sitting on the Couch? Or should I put in these fantasy chapters of the book I hope to publish before I take my dying breath, while sitting on the Couch?
What should I do?

Happy Birthday?

LesbosOnTheCouch by Beth C, one of the Lesbos

So it begins…the words begin to spin in my head---conversations with those I've loved, those I miss, those I've  lost touch with…conversations with  the past…

I suppose that today this is more prominent then usual… here it is, I am now officially in the last year of my 4th decade- yes, I am now forty-nine years old…Forty-nine years old! What does that mean anyway? I actually do feel like I've lived forty-nine years…I remember being a child, helpless and fidgety. I remember being a preteen and a teenager – uncomfortable in my own skin and not at all sure what I was.  Forty- nine years of life…that's quite a long look back. ..And for someone as near sighted as me, this is quite a feat. I can barely see the person sitting on the train next to me, let alone all of those who have affected my life for better or for worse for the past decades.

There are those whose memories are with me daily. Those whose voices are the voices that guide my life – my aunt Ellen, my Therapist, my dead friends, my living ones, my rabbi and of course my love who manages to stick around and not get overwhelmed or overburdened or just plain fried from my crazy.

Just today my dead aunt told me that I am strong and she is sure that I am doing the right thing…And my therapist, she's always proud of me ( in my head) just for getting out of bed every day and going to work….

I have been having a harder time than usual – but I am reminded by more than one of those voices that my birthday is approaching…The birthday of my childhood was never much of a celebration. I mostly remember a sick feeling of dread…but since my thirtieth, I have learned to take matters into my own hands – a day off from work, a friend to take me to lunch and a present from me to me.

One of the best presents that I ever received was something that my uncle taught me, one of the most important Life lessons, if not the most important one. He said to me, quite simply, this is not a dress rehearsal. This life that you are living now is the life that you have been given. It is now. This is it. This is not a dress rehearsal.

Life is not a dress rehearsal. It is taking place right now. Well, right now I want to do it. Right now I want to talk to my love. Right now I want to be with my son, make him dinner and hear about his day. Right now I want to ride my bike, I want to dance, I want to write. Right now I want to pray, I want to help and right now I want to be a part of the world….

Because if I am not going to do these things right now, then I just want to sleep and wake up when it's all over…

Ok…I need to be quiet now and write more later…

It is Sunday – I love Sunday

LesbosOnTheCouch by Beth C, one of the Lesbos

It is Sunday – I love Sunday. It's my day. It's our day.

My love and I don't get to do and spend allot of time together…mostly I work away from home…and mostly she's at home working – and taking care of me…(truth be told).

But Sundays – I am home and we are together – true, usually working, writing, running errands…and maybe even making each other just a bit crazier then we already are. And yes, we are both a bit crazy, although each in our own way…But, I will not write about her brand of crazy – not here…this blog is mine, all mine…and any crazy that comes out as if from her, well…that really is just the way I see it – Like I said…my own brand of crazy.

Sometimes I do forget that crazy or not, the way we live is not altogether accepted by all…I forget that even our closest friends are not necessarily comfortable with the life that we lead and even more to the point, some are most definitely uncomfortable that I write and talk about our lives - …Now, I do expect allot from those I love and those who love me…and I guess I expect allot from those who chose to read my blog…

You may have noticed that my blog is not always just about 'my life in this world' but is also about my other lives… my fantasy life, my dream life and my desired life. The place where we have Cowanders and orange plastic tents, the place where those I've lost are alive and those I dream sit next to me on the couch….My worlds can be and most often are, actually quite blurred sometimes, especially in my writing- and I guess in my mind.

I often expect my heroes and my friends to actually be these people that I fantasize that they are…it's a tall order. ..and I suppose not quite fair---so to those of you who are interested and who aren't afraid of my various lives – both real and fantasy, I hope you will continue to enjoy LesbosOnTheCouch…I know that this is my intent…

As I said before, today my love works at home while I schlep every morning-but it wasn't always like that. Once upon a time, I worked from home and tried to take care of my love while she schlepped and this is what I remember.

I remember it well, the perfect day to clean the house.  The dust has reached the level – that perfect level.  You know, just enough dust that can be seen – and therefore would be missed after being wiped off the TV screen (oh, dust…) A consistently consistent smattering of popcorn kernels, sand and some unidentified once upon a time food particles mixed with dust bunnies.

Since I was raised a female, I must obviously and intuitively know about the workings of all household appliances.  Housecleaning couldn’t be simpler – obvious and clear to all, especially the woman raised from the female girl type.  It goes without saying that a vacuum cleaner – you know, the kind that doesn’t have a bag…should be taken apart and emptied outside … – So, I don’t know, I don’t have those genes or background…I think I’ve said before that ‘normal’ and ‘regular’ aren’t  words generally used to describe me….

I opened the vacuum cleaner right there in the house in the kitchen, next to the refrigerator and sink.  And as I open this vacuum cleaner, I watch – in slow motion – as the dirt – yes, DIRT – and soot and G-d knows what else, magically take flight like a cloud of – SOOT!!!! I watch as this cloud of soot lands with amazing precision on the kitchen cabinet, covering all of the dishes in the sink, the stove, the clean pots and pans, the floor, the table – everything covered with a beautifully thick, even layer of SOOT.

As I run from sink to table with the filter in my hand, like an open artery, spurting more and more SOOT in every direction, I at last think about the bathroom and there I run.  The trail of soot, snow-like but grey-brown follows my every step.  The bathroom, where else would one go if one was carrying an open artery of soot – straight to the shower….Ahhh…water must be the answer.  Water cleans all wounds.  Relief – momentarily fueled by an apparently, hasty flash of hope – is quickly dispelled (too bad this was not the case for the soot).  As the soot flows off the filter and splatters mud – sooty mud, all over the shower and sink, walls, toilet, shower curtain and me – I take a deep breath, and pull my back out.

So, there you are honey.  That is why the house is well, so covered in filth.  I did try to clean…but as you now have explained to me – you must know – no, IT DID NOT OCCUR TO ME TO OPEN THE VACUUM CLEANER OUTSIDE.

Many things don’t occur to me…I am like that, I just don’t think the way everybody else does.  I forget things.  I remember strange things, and I suddenly remember even stranger things! (Like the time I made my best friend Angelica measure her nose, her mother’s nose and her sister’s nose to see which was bigger…strange.)

So, it’s been weeks now, maybe months…I can no longer tell.  Every night we get in bed and after a few seconds, there it is….BEEP.  Every night I vow that tomorrow I will look again for that BEEP…and after some time, maybe an hour, maybe half an hour, there it goes again, BEEP.

It’s not like I don’t hear it during the day.  Hell, I spend the whole day sitting at the computer writing. I am in the house, in the room and there it is, BEEP.  If it was a constant BEEP, or even a longer, BEEEEEEEP, then, maybe I would remember to find it when I actually could hear it.  Think about it.  One BEEP, every half hour to an hour…Some sort of bizarre Chinese water torture without the water and without constant annoying drip, drip, drip…Just, BEEP and that’s it for the next 30 minutes or so.

Anyway, annoying…yes, quite… while I am cleaning the house, I look under the bed, behind the shelves, under the desk.  I take out every box and open every drawer.  I take apart every gadget and check every outlet.  Maybe it’s some sort of weird bird or newly evolved partially mechanical cricket.  Maybe it’s my landlord trying to get us to leave so they can raise the rent…Maybe it’s in my mind and my wife is just placating me and doesn’t actually hear it herself.  It woke me up in the night, but not her.

Another day, I am sitting by the computer, writing…I am sitting by the computer staring out into space contemplating all of the work I have left to do and thinking about how hard it is to concentrate and focus…BEEP! But wait…my heart is filled with hope.  The BEEP is followed by another BEEP just 15 minutes later!

I know that today will be the day.  I finish editing the last article on my schedule for the day.  The BEEPs are getting closer and closer together.  I may be crazy, but I think, “There must be a God who loves me.  He will lead us to the BEEP today, at long last.  I will sleep through this night …”

Maybe I celebrate too soon.  There is another 30-minute break in between the BEEPs.  My honey comes home and finds me curled up on the couch, stressed and weepy…She reminds me that she has vowed to help me through all of life’s trials.   She brings me some chocolate ice cream and starts to search herself.  She finds many things…my fuzzy grey sock, the sunscreen from last summer, my phone book…ahhh, now we’re getting somewhere, she says…

She brings out an old palm pilot, a hearing aid (yikes, whose is that?), an ancient cell phone and a smoke alarm.  All of these things would indeed BEEP if their battery was running low.  My hero!  She removed the batteries from ALL of these gadgets…and the BEEP was gone.

My mind was once again free to wonder and remember irrelevant, strange bits of my history…I could go back to writing and trying to work the various appliances that fill our home.  Life is good.

Jane Double D-

LesbosOnTheCouch by Beth C, one of the Lesbos

Jane Double D

By Beth Cohen

With great self assurance she hurries into the judo chamber…The Chamber is well lit, white walled and the floor is a thick blue with mirrors floor to ceiling on one side. Double D’s outfit is the same bright white as the walls, making her face and hands all the more strikingly sharp in appearance. Her accentuated female physic is striking and firm. Her hands are small and defined, lined with a delicate pattern of blue veins and the outlines of chiselled sinews leading up her arms, covered by her white quilted cotton jacket.

Jane Double D’s years as a sensei, dedicated to teaching and mentoring her students the art of Judo or ‘The Way of Gentleness’ had become well known throughout the world of defence and honour. Indeed even her enemies could be heard to claim their abilities to be ‘at least as effective as Double D.’

Double D’s students are already assembled, eagerly waiting her instruction as she steps on the mats. Her ever word and movement are inhaled and absorbed by each and every girl in the room. The acceptance to the academy is a great honour; acceptance to these courses, taught by Double D, even greater. Double D’s cadets are among a lucky few, selected for the agility of spirit and mind as well as their extreme physical capabilities. It is a known and excepted fact, Double D’s cadets will be the first called and the first to fall. This fact is not taken lightly by Double D and she gladly gives all that she has both spiritually and physically to her brave and loyal students, the JudoJuniors special elite.

The lesson passes quickly for both Double D and her students. Her quick movements –matched only by her sharp sense of humour and commitment – keep everyone lively and enthused.

As the class comes to an end, D’s panmitter emits its signal. Double D click’s in…” Jane Double D…Yes…yes…yes, I understand.”

Within the hour, Jane Double D is at Headquarters, discussing the reason for the clicket  that had interrupted her class. Her old friend and colleague, Katie King Junior had sent the clicket. It seems that the Men’s League had been invaded by an unknown element which had caused a chain of bad air to float. The Men’s League in turn blamed the Women’s Forward Movement (WFM) and threatened to launch an attack.

The entire upper stratus of the WFM had been called in- including the young and inexperienced JudoJuniors special elite, who arrived in a noisy wave of energy.

Jane and Katie gave each other a knowing glance and raised their hands, pressed together and brought down to stomach level. This greeting immediately brought the JudoJuniors to silence.

“Juniors…we have called you all here today because we are under threat of attack by the Men’s League. It seems that an unknown element caused a floater in the Men’s League airways and the ML in turn, place the blame on us.” Jane’s voice booms on as the JudoJuniors look on with trepidation.

“We call on you, the JudoJuniors because we believe that although you are young and inexperienced – You have the ability to meet your potential as women of the WFM. We call on you, in this our time of threat because we know that you understand this threat and will do everything in your power to counter its pose.”

Within minutes the JudoJuniors were divided up into units according to level of ability and understanding. Double D led the first wave of 10 into the preparation room where they were issued uniforms, panmitters and weaponry.

"Can't diplomacy get them to stand down" asks one of her charges? l

"Obviously diplomacy has been tried- but the men at the head of the Men's League are an aggressive and bitter bunch. They are convinced that the WFL is planning for the destruction of 'man'kind. They fail to understand that we would never do that. They fail to understand that it is us, womankind that gave birth to them, that they are our children…and that all that we want is our fair share of mother earth's fruits and father sky's vastness.

"It is these very men who opposed 'the equality divisions' of the 22^nd century. It is these men who believe that all that is not right with their world has been directly and intentionally caused by the WFL's commitment to the emancipation of the female. They don't see the man in woman or the male in female. We are all linked semantically. We are all linked in destiny….

Just as Jane finished her lengthy explanation, the Cowander in Chief came into the room. "Jane Double D, I wish to have a word… JudoJuniors, may you travel strong and return in peace."

Jane and the Cowander in Chief took leave of the JJ's who are left to themselves to speculate their mission and their fate.

The Cowander in Chief's face is as stern as ever. It is impossible to read anything from her expression or movements. Only her words carry the possibility of any inner reflection of the Cowander's thoughts and skill. "Jane, the head of the ML's negotiating team has left word – the Commander in Chief of the ML wishes to speak with you."

"Cowander, do you think that this is wise. It may be a trick – a hostage situation would not help our morale and certainly not our cause."

'I don't believe this is a trick. Jane it is no secret to anyone from the ML and the WFL that Commander in Chief Jacque has a 'thing' for you. He doesn't understand our preferences are what they are –ingrain, inborn and desirable and innately woman for woman."

Jane tries to interrupt but the Cowander continues," Besides, if anyone can protect and defend herself as well as defend the cause of the WFL, it's you, Jane. You are not only the most knowledgeable in the arts of the Great S.D. but also by far the most cunning tactical thinker we have. I trust that if your situation becomes 'difficult' you will be able to extract yourself from any threat."

"Yes Cowander."… And before Jane has finished her sentence, the Cowander takes leave of Jane…

 (too be continued...

or not?)