March 9th, 2010
PLEASE send your advice to two single women, whose lives are suddenly crashing in chaos! Zoe and Sophia, BFFs for thirty years, find themselves unexpectedly cast into the world of re-creation and redefinition after decades of being faithful wives to George and Marty. They need advice from anyone willing to offer it. For instance, what advice would you give your BFF were she to ask, “I WANT TO SPEND TIME BEING MORE CREATIVE. WHAT SHOULD I DO?”Any advice you can give to Zoe would be helpful, but this is what Sophia said.

Before Zoe opened her eyes, she tried to remember where she was. The smell was familiar. Sparky, her stroke-impaired yellow Lab had involuntarily purged enough hard turds into the dog bed to fill the air with a distinct olfactory unpleasantness. Zoe could feel the weight of her laptop on her stomach where she’d left it when she fell asleep after Webcam “dating” late into the night with Florida Guy. But the angle of her head was unfamiliar because she wasn’t sleeping on her own pillows. Finally, she remembered she was in Cambridge, at the home of some old friends, who invited her to dinner and to stay over. The windstorm a few nights earlier stole the power from hundreds of thousands of people in New Hampshire, and Zoe still didn’t have hers back. Because the branch of Zoe’s company didn’t have power either, Zoe had to work out of its Boston office for a couple of days.

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March 2nd 2010
Please send your ADVICE to two single women, whose lives are suddenly crashing in chaos! Zoe and Sophia, BFFs for thirty years, find themselves unexpectedly cast into the world of re-creation and redefinition after decades of being faithful wives to George and Marty. They need advice from anyone willing to help them. For instance, what advice would you give your BFF if she asked, “IN ORDER TO GROW BEYOND MY PAIN, I NEED TO FIND COMPASSION IN MY BROKEN HEART FOR THE MAN WHO BROKE IT. HOW DO I DO THAT?” Any advice you can give to Sophia would be helpful, but this is what Zoe said.

Zoe pinched her cheeks in the pre-dawn as she drove north over the Tobin Bridge in Boston. The night before she’d slept at her daughter Sara’s house, after first attending a bi-monthly group-therapy session in Cambridge, and then later meeting Traveler Guy for a date in Copley Square. She had a three-hour drive ahead of her before she would start her work day. Zoe strove hard to fill in the space left by another silent spell from Florida Guy. Dating other men wasn’t really working for her though. Zoe was also chasing away her mounting alarm about Sophia’s plan to move to Florida. The only way she knew how to quash her feelings was to drive and connect, drive and connect. Zoe was skilled at snapping pictures and talking on her Blackberry–at the same time she checked her Facebook page and chatted live on her laptop—at the same time she drove. She took multi-tasking seriously.

Sophia meanwhile paced the bedroom floor of her 1770s house on a lake in New Hampshire. She counted the knot holes on the pumpkin pine floor boards, the ones laid before George Washington was president. Somehow, Sophia had it in her mind that her own life was a patchwork of knotholes, like those from the old boards. Trees grew around knotholes, the ones created when limbs were ripped from their trunks. Sophia felt like an old tree, whose trunk had been ravaged by wind. But unlike a tree, which “knew” it had to grow around a knot hole to reach skyward, Sophia was stuck in the hole of her failed marriage to Marty, a man she adored with all her heart. He broke that heart when he left her for his girlfriend Fugly, as Sophia called her.  And Sophia simply could not figure out how to grow around the hole left by his departure. The hole gaped open and dripped with pain because at the base of it, she had to admit she still loved and missed Marty, notwithstanding the profound choices he made to cut her from his life.  The ‘hole’ was also literal when it came to their financial affairs.

Fugly and Marty first met when Fugly approached Marty to become involved in a project to be financed by Fugly’s very famous father-in-law, Famous Father. Famous Father pulled out of the deal when he discovered Fugly and Marty were involved. Fugly moved out of her home, leaving behind a husband (Famous Father’s son), and their three young children. When the project crashed, Marty’s and Sophia’s financial situation plunged into a downward spiral. Sophia guessed that Fugly would be financially set for life and would ultimately take care of Marty if their relationship lasted. As it was, he lived at Fugly’s new place on the days she didn’t have child visitation, and she paid for Marty to live in a motel near her house on the days he wasn’t allowed to stay with her. (Only Sophia’s dogs were allowed to live full-time at Fugly’s). Sophia, on the other hand, couldn’t afford to pay the mortgage on the marital home. So, she had decided to move to Florida, not only to get away from Marty, but because she found a place to rent that would cost a quarter of her current mortgage payment.

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February 24, 2010
PLEASE send your advice to two single women, whose lives are suddenly crashing in chaos! Zoe and Sophia, BFFs for thirty years, find themselves unexpectedly cast into the world of re-creation and redefinition after decades of being faithful wives to George and Marty. They need advice from anyone willing to offer it. For instance, what advice would you give your BFF were she to ask, “IF YOU MOVE AWAY, WHAT WILL I DO?” Any advice you can give to Zoe would be helpful, but this is what Sophia said.

Late one afternoon Sophia sat at the dining room table in her large 1770s home on a lake in New Hampshire. She leaned into her laptop, working on the manuscript of a mystery that was in the last stages of editing before she could send it out to publishers and agents. In the eleven months since she was laid off as a reporter, from a newspaper where she worked for twenty years, she had written two books and was well on her way to a third. Unfortunately, her ability to work effectively was interrupted five months before when her husband Marty left her for his girlfriend, Fugly, as Sophia called her. Writing kept Sophia from living on Planet Nuts permanently because when she wrote, she was able to manage the grief. But the minute she stopped, even for a few hours, she crashed. And it didn’t help that she was beginning to feel discouraged about selling her work. So far, she had received only rejections except by one literary agent who, at least, agreed to read her first completed manuscript.

Agents and publishers were not Sophia’s problem that afternoon though. It was her huge Maine Coon cat Tolstoy who wanted attention. He sat on the table next to her, giving her the evil eye because he thought he was hungry. Tolstoy had an eating disorder. He captured and ate all small living creatures, from mice to crickets to birds, and devoured everything else even remotely edible in the house. Sophia wasn’t the only one suffering from her marital split. Tolstoy started his compulsive eating shortly after Marty left and took the dogs with him. Marty still refused to let the border collies, Voltaire and Dickens, visit with Sophia and Tolstoy. Voltaire and Dickens raised Tolstoy from the time he was a poor abandoned kitten, whose mother was unable to nurse him. Sophia fed Tolstoy with an eye dropper back then, just to keep him alive, but it was the dogs who were his big brothers, and Tolstoy missed them something wicked.

Tolstoy butted his head against Sophia’s arm a couple of times, thinking Sophia was being awfully insensitive to his needs. He figured he’d show her a thing or two and leapt on to her keyboard, deleting an entire paragraph.
“Dammit, Tolstoy,” groaned Sophia. Tolstoy was so heavy that Sophia had to stand up to leverage his weight off of the laptop. Just then, a brisk wind blasted into the dining room, followed by the clatter of Zoe and Sparky, her incontinent, stroke-impaired yellow Lab. The two ran inside away from the icy air and blankets of falling snow. Sophia held Tolstoy in her arms, but he was so heavy that her feet were planted to the floor. So, she couldn’t get out of the way when Sparky ran sideways toward her, catching her behind the knees. Tolstoy sprang from Sophia’s arms, but not in time for Sophia to catch her fall.

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February 19 th 2010
PLEASE send your advice to two single women, whose lives are suddenly crashing in chaos! Zoe and Sophia, BFFs for thirty years, find themselves unexpectedly cast into the world of re-creation and redefinition after decades of being faithful wives to George and Marty. They need advice from anyone willing to offer it. For instance, what advice would you give your BFF if she said, “I WANT TO SUSTAIN THIS DETACHMENT. WHAT SHOULD I DO?” Any advice you can give to Sophia would be helpful, but this is what Zoe said.

Zoe and Sophia had been up since dawn, running around like loons, packing clothes and cleaning up after Sparky’s messes. Sparky, Zoe’s stroke-impaired yellow Lab, was always incontinent, but his bladder and bowels worked overtime when he was stressed out. Sparky was anxious because he feared Zoe was taking another trip without him. He wished that bitch Sophia would just go away alone, maybe take a long walk off a short pier somewhere.

Just then, Sophia’s daughter, Poppy, crashed through the door in a panic. She’d been pounding on the door for a couple of minutes, but her mother and “aunt” were too busy getting ready for their trip to pay attention to the odd noise. The door wasn’t locked, but piled in front of it was luggage and the girth of Sparky, lying on the luggage, thinking he could stop Zoe from leaving. All that weight created a barrier that was hard to push out of the way. Sparky finally stood up and stepped back. Poppy was pushing so hard that the door swung open with great force, and Poppy fell into the house on top of the luggage. Of course, this scared Sparky and he let loose a yellow stream.
“Dammit, Sparky. Git,” yelled Poppy, who lay on the floor damp and gross.
“Hi, sweetie darling,” Sophia called from the bathroom. “We’re almost ready to leave for Vermont.”
“Ma, I gotta go home and change. Sparky just peed all over me.”
“That’s a shame dear. By the time you get back, we’ll be ready.”

Poppy lived in New Hampshire, just minutes from Zoe’s and Sophia’s homes. She wasn’t happy about going back to her house since she’d already said goodbye to her husband “Fonzi” and her daughter Lilly. They were being good sports about Poppy going off without them for a weekend, to see her cousin Lulu, who was up from Texas on a ski trip. But Poppy knew a momentary reentry at home to shower and change clothes would be disruptive.

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VALENTINE’S DAY EDITION
February 13th

PLEASE send you advice to two single women, whose lives are suddenly crashing in chaos!  Zoe and Sophia, BFFs for thirty years, find themselves unexpectedly cast into the world of re-creation and redefinition after decades of being faithful wives to George and Marty.  They need advice from anyone willing to offer it.  For instance, what advice would you give your BFF if she asked, “AM I DESTINED EITHER TO WANT THAT WHICH I CANNOT HAVE OR TO SETTLE FOR DAMAGED GOODS BECAUSE THEY ARE AVAILABLE TO ME?” Any advice you can give to Zoe would be helpful, but this is what Sophia said.

On Saturday afternoon, snow fell in blinding sheets. Sophia sat shivering in front of the dining room fireplace, in her 1700s home, on a lake in New Hampshire.
“Okay, tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day. Fuck me,” said Sophia.
Zoe sat in a rocking chair next to Sophia. Her eyes stared blankly as she chewed on one fist. She was contemplating whether she should become celibate for the rest of her life.
“Ikk,” said Zoe. “Everything associated with Valentine’s Day sucks. I gotta figure out what I’m doing here, Sophie. I have all these men, and in the end, I’m not sure I want any of them.”

“Let’s lay them out, Zo. Maybe one of them is right, maybe not. These men are just part of your present journey.”
“Well, I feel like I’ve crashed into so many guys on this journey, that the road’s getting pretty littered with bodies.”
“List them off for me.”

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February 10th 2010

PLEASE send you advice to two single women, whose lives are suddenly crashing in chaos! Zoe and Sophia, BFFs for thirty years, find themselves unexpectedly cast into the world of re-creation and redefinition after decades of being faithful wives to George and Marty. They need advice from anyone willing to offer it. For instance, what advice would you give your BFF if she asked, “HOW DO I LET GO OF THE PAIN AND BEGIN TO HEAL?” Any advice you can give to Sophia would be helpful, but this is what Zoe said.

Zoe was dog tired when she awoke the first morning back from her business trip to L.A. Sparky lay on the floor next to her snoring, so Zoe didn’t move a muscle for fear of waking her stroke-impaired Lab. She knew the minute Sparky was conscious, she’d have to race to get him outside before he jettisoned a yellow stream from his bladder. As Zoe lay there, she thought about the night before.

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February 7th 2010

Please send your ADVICE to two single women, whose lives are suddenly crashing in chaos! Zoe and Sophia, BFFs for thirty years, find themselves unexpectedly cast into the world of re-creation and redefinition after decades of being faithful wives to George and Marty. They need advice from anyone willing to help. For instance, what advice would you give your BFF if she asked, “HOW CAN I SUSTAIN THIS PEACEFUL FEELING?” Any advice you can give to Zoe would be helpful, but this is what Sophia said.

Late one morning, Sophia lay in her bed in New Hampshire, yearning to call Zoe, who wouldn’t be home until the next night from her business trip to L.A. Sophia stayed up most of the night before obsessing on her cheating, soon-to-be-ex Marty. She needed to talk to Zoe, but the “man of the house” since Marty left, lay on top of Sophia, preventing her arm from reaching for the cell phone. This “man” was her enormous Maine Coon cat, Tolstoy. Sophia loved Tolstoy, but lately, he’d become possessive of her. Whenever she was in bed, he jumped on her chest, then spent hours cleaning Nutella chocolate spread and Chex Mix off Sophia’s cheeks and chin. This meant that poor Sophia was often pinned down for hours or until Tolstoy ran out of “food.” With all her might, Sophia pushed and poked until Tolstoy gave her a dirty look, jumped to the floor, and wondered why Sophia was being such a bitch.

Meanwhile, Zoe stood in panties and bra, studying her face in the bathroom mirror of her hotel room in L.A. She was preparing for her last day of contract negotiations with various film producers. What she saw reflected in the mirror was a certain calm she hadn’t seen in her eyes for a long time.

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February 3, 2010   
 

Please send your ADVICE to two single women, whose lives are suddenly crashing in chaos! Zoe and Sophia, BFFs for thirty years, find themselves unexpectedly cast into the world of re-creation and redefinition after decades of being faithful wives to George and Marty. They need advice from anyone willing to help. For instance, what advice would you give your BFF if she said, “HOW CAN I SLEEP AT NIGHT WITH THE GHOSTS AND THE ANGER AND PAIN?” Any advice you can give to Sophia would be helpful, but this is what Zoe said.

Zoe and Sophia stood side-by-side in panties and push-up bras, sharing the bathroom mirror at Zoe’s house. They finished slathering their bodies in moisturizer, and were now expertly working the enchantment on their eyes and lips. Sparky, Zoe’s incontinent yellow Lab lay at their feet, gazing up at them with doleful eyes. He might not be able to walk straight or control his bowels, BUT he wasn’t stupid. He knew the meaning of the packed luggage beside the front door. It meant Zoe was taking another trip. Zoe had to be at the airport in Boston by 4:00 a.m., so she decided it was best to drive from New Hampshire that night and stay in a hotel. Sophia, who was suffering from acute separation anxiety, offered to drive Zoe to Boston and see her off on her business trip to California.

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January 31, 2010

Please send your ADVICE to two single women, whose lives are suddenly crashing in chaos! Zoe and Sophia, BFFs for thirty years, find themselves unexpectedly cast into the world of re-creation and redefinition after decades of being faithful wives to George and Marty. They need advice from anyone willing to help. For instance, what advice would you give your BFF if she said, “WHAT AM I SEARCHING FOR, AND WHERE WILL I FIND IT?” Any advice you can give to Zoe would be helpful, but this is what Sophia said.

Zoe lay in her cold bed, teetering on wakefulness. Her hand felt for the long, lean gorgeous man lying next to her. Wait a minute. What was that smell? Who was licking her hand? Her eyes snapped open, and she realized she was in her own bed in New Hampshire, with her beloved, incontinent Sparky on the floor next to her. His stroke-impaired body had purged turds in the night, and Zoe knew she would have to race her sweet Lab to the door before he left a yellow stream throughout the house. As she stirred, she realized her laptop was still on her stomach, where she’d left it the night before, after a Webcam “date” with Florida Guy. He was the long, lean gorgeous man whose limbs were not occupying her bed. Gingerly, she began to remove the laptop, just as an incoming email blinged its arrival. Sparky still snored, so she risked opening the message. It was from a colleague saying Zoe was booked on a business trip to L.A. in a few days. Zoe smiled, wrote back the word “Yippee,” then flung herself out of the bed and made a mad dash to the door, with Sparking running sideways behind her.

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January 27, 2010
Please send your ADVICE to two single women, whose lives are suddenly crashing in chaos! Zoe and Sophia, BFFs for thirty years, find themselves unexpectedly cast into the world of re-creation and redefinition after decades of being faithful wives to George and Marty. They need advice from anyone willing to help them. For instance, what advice would you give your BFF if she wailed, “HOW CAN I GO HOME WITH ALL THAT PAIN WAITING FOR ME? Any advice you can give to Sophia would be helpful, but this is what Zoe said.

Early on the morning of Zoe and Sophia’s last full day in Florida, Zoe found Sophia sprawled in a heap on the deck outside the guest bedroom, sobbing, of course. Zoe expected this would happen when Sophia realized the transitory nature of her escape from the searing pain of her broken marriage to Marty. Sophia stopped crying out the litany of harms, a morning ritual, when she saw Zoe’s shadow.
“Get up, Sophie. The sun’s out and we need to put the polish on our tans.”
“Florida Guy’s been such a good host. Oh, Zo, I’m dreading going back to New Hampshire.”
“Don’t waste precious time on that shit. We don’t leave until tomorrow. Today is today.”

“Okay. How are you doing?” Sophia asked as she struggled to her feet. Before Zoe could answer, Sophia reached out for a badly needed hug, but Zoe didn’t see her, and at that instant she bolted back indoors when she heard Florida Guy call her name. Consequently, Sophia wrapped her arms around air, leaned into the same then fell flat on her face. “Trust” was not a game to be played with Zoe if she was answering the call of the “nature.”

An hour later Sophia heard Zoe open Florida Guy’s bedroom door and heard the bathroom door bang. Fully expecting to find Zoe immersed in one of her too-many-to-count ‘afterglows,’ Sophia barged into the bathroom, boundaries being a concept they ignored with each other’s space. To her surprise, she heard Zoe weeping in the shower. Instead of letting Zoe cry alone, Sophia jerked back the curtain. Frightened, Zoe screamed and slipped on the soapy tub floor. On her way down, Zoe grabbed the shower curtain, and took both the curtain and fixtures down with her.
“Fuck sake, Sophie. Why did you scare me like that?”
“I’m concerned about you,” she said to the back of Zoe’s head, since Zoe’s face rested on the bath mat, while her legs and torso still occupied the tub. Since the curtain had lost its purpose, water spurted everywhere, not that either woman noticed.

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