At first I just bought a set of just three, but later walked back and exchanged them for a more extensive set. I am dreaming of all the beautiful things I can do with the brushes if I just get some colorful paint. I could paint on paper or wood. Most of my furniture and walls, I have already painted all over, well really mostly the kitchen. I would like one wall a heavenly blue, but I imagined painting porcelain dolls and things, you know quaint stuff.
A guy no more than twenty-five looked me up and down. I was wearing my skinny jeans and combat boots with my Kelly green sweater. Also, I had my hair in a ponytail and had earrings and green eye shadow. Maybe I was just standing out too much. I am not a cougar anymore.
No, those days are over. Now I am over fifty, over the hill, fifty-one, legally blind. I am more like a grandmother now, even ask for a senior discount if I'm short on cash. No, I am not a cougar anymore. I never really was, and I suppose I still could be if I wanted to, but my psyche is changing, as I run wild with the wolves, as in Women Who Run With the Wolves, I have become a bit of a lone wolf. I lost my tribe years ago in a sense. Some of us dropped out of the sky to the wrong family, the wrong religion, the wrong everything. I feel I did. I feel I belonged to someone else, somewhere else, and never found my lost tribe. Oh, my children are my tribe, and although I know this is a textbook narcissistic symptom, but I feel like my kids are a part of me, my people.
A guy who knew my son David, saw me for the first time and said, "you look so much like David." That was a compliment. Sometimes people think my kids are my brothers. Well, so much for self-flattery. On to more important matters of the day. Namaste.
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