A Few Matters

Last night Lola came and waited for Anna and Paula. We had a good visit, about 30 minutes, but she had to leave before they arrived. Then they came, and Carol Pladsen was with them. We went to dinner, they came in afterward and stayed an hour. This story has a point. It's this: all the while, I was wearing only one earring. Here and at the restaurant, of course, and no one said a word about it. No one. This substantiates my claim that women become invisible as they age, especially white-haired women. And, no, my hair does not cover my ears. It's just that nobody really looks at me. Oh well.

Or perhaps they think I'm losing my mind and they didn't want to call attention to it. 

Naah. That's not it.

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Troubled by my dream. Wayne was in it. So was Gary O'Keefe, but he was not the troubling part because he means nothing to me. It was Wayne, his indifference, his total okness without me. Just a dream, Carol. Funny, they both looked as they used to. Only I had white hair.

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My friend Joan says I should keep telling myself I'm young. I'm trying to. Last night didn't help.