The cold is Siberian.

I have been on a roller coaster of emotion,

all weekend.

Worrying about plans for my friend’s funeral,

things seem to be settled,

on that front at least,

I still don’t know when,



will find out today.

It has been a comfort to know,

that people did care.

I don’t think we should ever assume,

that people are really alone.

Betsy, lived alone,

she was not and is not,


I hope I can be there to hear Kaddish.

I’m upset and troubled about so many things,

I may need to rename the blog,

bookish butch melts down:-)

or whatever.

I started this year,

as you may recall,

optimistic and pumped for the future.

The first few weeks were good,

even sales at the store,

were decent,

which is practically unheard of,

for January.

Things were great,

everyone was healthy and happy.


introduced me to a lovely woman,

we went out,

 it was delightful.

I looked forward,

to slowly getting to know each other,

possibly developing a relationship,


The prospect seems dim.

I think as usual,

I suffered from over enthusiasm,

and intensity.

That should be,

one of my projects for the year,

work on not being so scary:-)

Personally, I enjoy intensity,

to me,

intensity= passion.

Passion is an important thing,

towards life, love, your career,

passion and curiosity are the great,

motors in my life,

they are what propel me forward.

Some people,


 propels forward,

or worse,


I refuse to loose my faith in love,

and in the inherent good of people,

nobody’s perfect,

we must all live with our demons.

You have to get up every morning,

and try again.

My biggest problem,


 I think and reflect too much,

it can occasionally border on the obsessive.

Why do I do what I do?

Could I have been better?

more sensitive?

more understanding?

The fact is,

I’m far from perfect,

like every human creature on the planet,

I try my best to be sincere and real.

I over analyse,

I write to many sentences,

trying to be clear and concise,


attempting succinctness through verbiage:-)

I wonder if everyone is as confused and messed up,

as me,

you think I would have learned,

 a few things over the years.


I’m 45 and still sort of clueless.

Later girls,


4 Replies to “Even at 45, I’m still sort of clueless:-)”

  1. Thanks again, Bookish Butch for honouring my Auntie Betsy or Betz as I used to call her. I really appreciate your words, wisdom and memorial. Please let me know how the funeral goes tomorrow. My mom and Auntie/Cousin Rhoda will be there. It was my honour to connect all of you. As for feeling “clueless” as a 50 year old lesbian feminist femme dyke Jewish fag drag queen artist living in Vangroovier, a real Easterner in a Western town, clueless is my permanent state and I have learned to love it, embrace it and revel in it. As I get older, I realize I know less and less and you know, it’s okay. Thank you very much for being a wonderful friend to Auntie Betz and for being so understanding throughout this whole shock and grieving process. Take care, Elaine Carol

  2. She deserved it, I will miss her. I will let you know about the funeral. I’ll probably write about it, it will be my first Jewish service.You are a classy lady, and I think Betsy would have been proud of your intervention and mediation. Miserable circumstances,to “meet” but, … c’est la vie. We’ll talk soon. BB

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