Lisa P Writes

I sometimes see a gray-haired, hunchbacked man walking down the street in front of my house. As he walks, his back is rounded over but he holds his head up, kind of like a turtle with a quick gait. He occasionally puffs on a cigarette. His clothes are youthful, usually jeans and a trendy sling shoulder bag which I assume he’s on his way to the train to go to work. He looks like he could be retirement age. I make up stories about him that maybe he lives alone in an apartment, his children live far away so they only visit once a year. He doesn’t visit them because he’s too busy working in advertising. His wife divorced him because he didn’t contribute to housework and refused to give foot rubs. He eats fortified cereal for dinner. Why do I go to the depressing side? I don’t know. . .

Last year, I did the vegan cleanse twice, in the spring and in the fall. I’m on my third time and it’s day four. I eliminate not only animal products, but also sugar, gluten, alcohol and caffeine. The things that I eat are fresh, from nature – fruits, veggies, nuts, beans, etc. and soy products, rice and corn. Now that I’ve done it a couple of times, I see that my food choices are opening up even more. The first time it seemed impossible but now I’m trying even more delicious, fresh meals. There are four things I know for sure will happen on this 21-day journey. . .

Ahhh, I just love sunny So. California. The photo was taken a couple of years ago in Ocean Beach, a neighborhood in San Diego. I always think of this magical place, but more specifically of my friends Anne Marie and Thomas who live there, when I begin my vegan cleanse. They are vegan. Anne Marie told me that it was a gradual change from meat eater, to vegetarian and now vegan. She said that once they bought their place in Ocean Beach, they became vegan. It started because they had access to a delicious vegan deli at a co-op grocery store called People’s. And they’ve maintained a vegan lifestyle not only because of animals but because they feel terrific on that kind of diet . . .

“Did you know that when you live in a warm climate, like in Phoenix, you lose track of years? You know, like you don’t have the weather reference like you do in Chicago,” Christina mentioned after the customer left. “I know that I got my dog in high school in the winter because it was so dang cold out when he had to go pee.”
“Yeah but that could be now because you still live at home . . .

Christina rubbed the red lipstick off her teeth and smiled into the mirror. She glanced over her appearance and smoothed her straight blonde hair. Round brown eyes gazed back. She smiled again into the mirror and then growled. The lipstick had stained her front teeth again. She reached for a brown paper towel and rubbed the lipstick off her lips and teeth. After she applied a new coat of clear gloss, Christina headed out of the bathroom pulling a small, black rolling bag behind her.
As she wandered down the expansive airport corridor taking in the sights and sounds around her, she noticed the vibrancy of the passengers . . .

Here’s another email from my Egypt trip in 2000 . . .
Welcome to my third and final letter about Egypt. Let’s see if I can remember two weeks ago. Last I left off we had just arrived in Luxor. We saw tons of stuff in Luxor in the two days we had there. . .

In the fall of 2000, Carol and I had a three week adventure in Egypt. It was a life-changing trip. I had been to Europe before but never to the exotic Middle East. The architecture, colors, smells and sounds transported me to another time – like being on an old movie set. It reeked of ancient stones and civilizations. Some of the ruins we visited were 3000 years old. When I entered these stone temples, I would walk up to the wall and observe the carvings, sometimes with bits of color, and imagine the person decorating the massive structures. I pictured them in white long flowing gowns, speaking a language I couldn’t understand. When the guide wasn’t looking, I would sneak a touch of the walls just to try to feel the history. Before the trip, I had no knowledge of Egypt and after, the mythology fascinated me. My photos are tucked away in albums but now want to scan and post them . . . so that’s one of my goals in 2010 – daunting but doable. I posted a couple of them on my flickr site. I can’t wait to go back and also explore other regions in the area. I came across a couple of emails that I sent while on the trip and decided to post them . . .

“Jim, how long do you plan on lying here feeling sorry for yourself?” Jim’s mother got up from the side of his bed and opened the curtains. She turned the television off and then tugged at the bottom of her jean jacket. “It’s been a week. I would think that you would be relieved, not having to go to that job.” Jim felt too weak to respond.
“Coffee Gail?” Shelly came in with two mugs and handed both of them to Jim’s mom. Gail nodded and smiled at Shelly. She wrapped her fingers around the mug handles, careful not to bump her large stone rings that lined some of her fingers.
Gail’s long cotton dress floated over to Jim’s beside. He sat up, rubbed his face and reached for the coffee. Shelly went back into the kitchen and then returned with a mug for herself. She leaned against Jim’s dresser. Shelly had been the one to call Gail to get Jim up. Gail told Shelly that when Jim was young, it wasn’t uncommon that Jim would become depressed . . .

Jim was sitting at his desk on the showroom floor checking personal email. He started chuckling at a ridiculous email about men and women. When it came to men and women, the men seemed to be the butt of the jokes. Shelly had sent him the joke and knew if the tables were turned, she wouldn’t be laughing. He started to reply to her but then was tapped on his shoulder. He jumped . . .

Jim’s tall, lanky frame had made him a target in his teenage years. It didn’t help that he wore glasses with thick black frames when wire frames were the style. His mother bought them at an estate sale and told him that he looked arty. All he could think about was the dead guy who wore them before. Plus, Jim wasn’t convincing as an arty type of guy. He couldn’t keep up with his successfully arty mom. He wasn’t smart, either. The glasses might have given that illusion but he was a mediocre student. Straight Cs.
Fast forward ten years to a different Jim in his mid twenties. He had the same lanky body, but it had started to mature and fill out. The pimples were gone and he was left with a decent enough looking face. The kind of face that women usually just wanted to be friends with but Jim had developed a confident attitude . . .