Life Goes On ™️

My obsession this year was watching a new Netflix series, Nobody Wants This. I watched the entire series four times. It’s about two sisters who have a podcast about relationships and dating. (There’s a rabbi in it too, but let’s not get into that.) The writers of this series, Erin and Sarah Foster, actually have a podcast in real life, entitled, The World’s First Podcast, in which they discuss and banter about friendships, sistership, and dating, among other things. One of my favorite episodes from the series is “The Ick”, which is basically something that turns you off when you’re dating someone. Coincidently, the actual podcast’s latest episode is entitled “The Ick Episode”. So, the cosmic forces are in place because there are no coincidences. I was meant to write this entry because every time I go on a date or even talk with a guy on the phone, “The Ick” is always a possibility looming in the air. My date with the “spitter” that I wrote about in my last entry was a perfect example o...

The hardest part of widowhood, for me, is it changes your identity, without your permission.  “ I am single now”–– just saying that now makes me cringe. Single means you are one and one is an odd number.  I am from the Baby Boomer generation; therefore, I grew up believing I would one day be a wife like June Cleaver or Donna Stone; I never thought I would be Miss Brooks.  Miss was definitely a four-letter word to most baby boomer girls. As a matter of fact, in college, many girls would say I’m here for my “MRS degree”.   While I was in elementary school, I would lay in bed at night and wonder which one of the boys in my class would be my husband one day.  This is how programmed I was to believe that my ultimate goal in life was to be part of a couple.    Then came the 70s when women began to challenge the traditional roles of Mrs. Cleaver and Mrs. Stone. We stopped believing that we should only give up our virginity to our husbands.  We boldly def...