Confessions of a Not-So-Dead Libido

Louise                                               p.1

The most exciting thing I’ve done in the last three years is give myself a public haircut. Last October in a frenzied attempt to perk myself up, I decided to lop off the straggly ends. Baring myself in front of a full-view mirror – Lord, that ought to be outlawed! – I snipped a little, just a half inch or so. I thought I’d end up looking cute and sassy down there. Instead, I looked shorn. But the worst part was that it never grew back.

Well no…the worst part was that I had to go to the gynecologist the following week. In a misguided moment (I have many of those) I tried to pass off my near-baldness as a joke.

“How do you like my new cut?”

“I wouldn’t notice it if you dyed it and tied it with a Christmas ribbon.” Dr. Howard never even looked up.

I don’t know what possessed me to say such a thing to him. For goodness sake! I’m the kind of woman who carries dental floss in her purse and raises her hand for permission to speak at Friends of the Library board meetings.

I guess I’m still a bit unhinged by grief. When I think about it, the most gut-wrenching aspect of my foolhardy foray with the shears is that nobody is here to notice.

Patsy                                              p. 42

Oh, I know what people say about me. Because of the way I carry on about men, they think I’m a woman of vast experience. The mean-spirited ones even say I’ve been around the block more than once. That’s a big fat lie.

I’ve have only two men in my life – Rocky and Bill. Women of my generation don’t go in for one-night stands: we’re hoping for true romance and lifetime commitment.

I might have mistaken my respect and deep regard for Bill as true love if there had never been a Rocky. But there was. And I know the kind of soul-connection we had is rare. Still, a part of me has always believed I’d find that kind of love again.

In spite of my wayward ways, it looks as if the universe is smiling on me. Lord, if you’ll let him come my way I’ll ring the bell for the Salvation Army’s Christmas kettle.

I feel safe making this promise. December is a long way off, which gives me plenty of time to reform.