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21st Century Lesbian Trailer Trash

These are the mad musings of a middle aged woman, dyke, nurse, poet. I have a dog, a cat, a mobile home, and delusions of grandeur.

Location: California, United States

Monday, September 26, 2005

Intimacy Anyone?

One of my nurses wanted to give me a special ring tone. I told her to use Rainy Days and Mondays. It seemed fitting at the time. I probably ought to have picked Desperado.

Right now it is Monday morning and my eyes are stuck together. When I was 23, this meant I had spent a hard weekend of beer, parties, and gratuitous sex.

These days, it just means that I am over 50 and have not had enough sleep. Gratuitous sex at 23 btw, was with men. Today it would be with women but right now I don't have any volunteers. I remember an older woman I used to see around the SOL meetings (Slightly Older Lesbians). Her most memorable line was "I just want to find an old lady who will let me massage her feet."

I could go for that. But I seem to have intimacy issues. A psychiatrist once told me that I had an attachment disorder. He saw me exactly one time. For 15 minutes. My sister would disagree. She says that my basic problem with relationships is that I become too attached. I never let go. Therefore, I have difficulty moving forward.

Sis may be right. I still carry a torch for Bill. And Jerry. And Lois. That was my 20's, 30's, and 40's. There were others in between but they were merely plugs in the dike. (Pun absolutely intended). But for a single lesbian, I have an abysmal love life record.

One would think that we dykes would be out trawling the bars, looking for love in all the wrong places. The problem is that in lesbian bars, things aren't much different than in straight bars. So I stay home and watch CSI with my dog. She just may be my most long lasting relationship in life. The Dyke and her little Dudette.

It's possible that the ex-housemate is my best example of how my relationships work. She is heterosexual and depressed. We spent almost 6 years under the same roof with her budding juvenile delinquent daughter. She slept and I played on the computer. We could not have an honest conversation about what was going on in the house. Every time I tried to confront and issue, she said I had a problem. That's the trouble with living with a social worker.

I gave up. I shut my mouth and tried to live a separate life while she slept or gambled at the casinos. Now she's in jail. She stole 125,000 dollars from an old lady in the nursing home where she worked. I hadn't a clue. Not having a clue was a good thing in this instance. Had I known, I would have lost my nursing license.

Relationships aren't bad. I know this. But I do pick wildly dysfunctional people to hang out with. I think this means that I am wildly dysfunctional. Maybe being single isn't such a bad thing if one is that screwed up when it comes to other people.

I remain, humbly yours, Clueless in Southern California.

Kinja, the weblog guide


Blogger Seabiscuit said...

I wish that I had gratuitous sex while I was young! Sigh

1:53 PM PDT  
Blogger G. L. Gross said...

As always I like your honesty!


8:01 PM PDT  
Blogger Gina said...

letting go is hard for me also, I keep an image in my head of some ideal time we had together and try and capture that again. But the problem is you really can't go back. I think for me, it's so hard to for me to make that emotional leap to intimacy that when I do, I want to hold on and not let go.

The best thing that ever happened to me what when a laid to rest my last long term relationship (after three years of watching it linger after we broke up...never live with an ex, it's just painful!), I met me husband three months latter!

7:33 AM PDT  

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