Zoe & Sophia Spend a Ski Weekend in Vermont with Sexy Twenty-Something Women as the Sublime Consumers of the Lightness of Being

February 19th, 2010

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.

Zoe and Sophia stood side-by-side in their panties and bras in front of the bathroom mirror blowing out their blond hair. Next, they expertly applied understated make-up to enhance their pretty eyes.
“Whose gonna take care of Tolstoy while we’re gone, Sophie?” Tolstoy was Sophia’s huge Maine Coon cat.
“Marty said he’d stay at the house while we’re away.”
“Fugly must have visitation with the kids this weekend,” said Zoe.
“Marty wouldn’t stay at the house for any other reason.”

Marty was Sophia’s husband who left Sophia after she forced him to tell her the truth about his affair with Fugly, as Sophia called her. Fugly was married to a famous musician, and he was the son of someone really famous, Famous Father. Originally, Fugly approached Marty to become involved in a business project that was being financed by Famous Father. Early on, Fugly stopped even trying to be subtle about wanting a more intimate relationship with Marty, and for a host of reasons, Marty took the bait. When the affair was exposed, just two days before groundbreaking on the project’s building, Famous Father cut off the funds. Soon afterwards, Fugly moved out of her house without her three kids. Now, Marty lived with Fugly, but he wasn’t allowed to stay with her on the nights she had visitation with the children.

The other nights Marty stayed in a “residential motel” called the Sleepy Manor Inn. Marty refused to tell Sophia the name of the place. He claimed he was afraid she would come there and attack him. Oddly enough, Marty had attacked Sophia a few times since the split, not the other way around. What Marty failed to grasp was that Sophia didn’t want to see him unless she had to. Sophia couldn’t deny she still loved the “old” Marty, the man who was a wonderful husband for many years, but she viewed the “new” Marty as a jackass who was puffed up by his self-aggrandized sense of importance.

Even though Marty hid his whereabouts under a false premise, Sophia found out by accident one day when she was driving down Rte. 1. She was on the way to her favorite TJ Maxx, and she happened to look to her left. His car was parked right in front of the crappy motel. But Sophia didn’t even bother to tell Marty she knew where he stayed.

What absolutely tore Sophia’s heart out though, was that Marty took their dogs when he left, and he wouldn’t let Sophia have them, ever. He lied and told Sophia the dogs were allowed to stay at his motel with him, but they weren’t. They stayed at Fugly’s house all the time. And the most pathetic aspect of all was the dogs could stay at Fugly’s even though Marty wasn’t allowed to. Sophia’s lack of respect for Marty was growing in direct proportion to the lack of respect he showed for himself.

“Boy, Marty’s life has gone to shit since all this happened,” said Zoe.
“Yeah it has.”
“He put you though hell during the months leading up to the split, but I wonder if he even thought about how bleak your financial situation would be if his affair was exposed.”

“I don’t think he was “thinking” with his brain, Zoe. Lower. But in all fairness, it wasn’t just about fucking that troll Fugly. Marty also worked his ass off for over a year on that project and never got paid a dime. He was promised that as of ground breaking, he’d start getting paid. Meanwhile, during that period, he gave up income to work on the project, and we ate up what little savings we had after I was laid off. It’s ironic how he and Fugly “found” each other a mere two months after I was told the newspaper was in trouble and would probably go belly up within a year.”

“I’m not sure how much was irony or calculation concerning Marty, but I do know how much you loved writing for that paper, Sophie. Twenty years was a long time. And dammit, that was a good paper. I miss it.” Zoe looked at Sophia in the mirror, watched her face begin to pucker. “Please don’t cry. We don’t have time for you to start over with the mascara.”
“Okay, Zo, but let’s not talk about the newspaper.”

“Okay, Sophie. Do you think Famous Father was aware of your situation?”
“Even if he were, why would he care? His son was just screwed over. I’d probably feel the same way if someone hurt my kid like that. Funny thing is though, everyone else got paid—the architects, engineers, lawyers. Even the construction crew was paid for the first day of groundbreaking. The entire project was Marty’s creation, but when he asked for compensation, Famous Father’s handlers in New York flatly refused to pay Marty a red cent.  And they were fully aware of Marty’s efforts and what he gave up on the expectation of being paid.”

“Sophie, that seems so unfair.”
“Zoe, life isn’t fair. Interestingly, Famous Father, his son and even Fugly are all set for life. And I’m guessing Fugly will take care of her “pet” Marty in the long run.  I’m the only one who’s looking at eating toothpaste for breakfast.  But I don’t see myself as a victim. To some extent, I’m just one of the unintended consequences of a lot of thoughtless choices made by other people.  I know I’m the author of my own story, and I need to go dream another dream. It just has to be a cheap dream at this point because I am tapped out.”
“That really sucks, Sophie.”

“I have to give Marty credit though. He’s doing his best to resurrect the old business. He gives me money for a few bills, and he paid the mortgage this month. I just wish I could find a job. Better yet, I wish I could find an agent and sell one of my manuscripts. You know how hard I’ve tried on both counts, but again, I have very little control. Fifty-something professional women are not the hottest game in town. I haven’t wanted to say this out loud, but we’ll probably lose the house.”

“Fuck sake, Sophie, that house was your inheritance.”
“I know, but we refinanced it once the Marty-Fugly project was underway, to tide us over until he started getting paid. I’m just trying to find a positive spin on the fact that Fugly gets my husband and my dogs, and I lose my home. Please tell me every cloud have a silver lining, Zo.” At this, tears unleashed streams of mascara down Sophia’s cheeks.

“You’ll find the silver lining, Sophie. But for now, could you redo your make-up. You’re a mess.”
Sophia blew her nose and threw water on her face. As she started reapplying her make-up she said, “Well, you know Pema’s favorite quote: “Only to the extent that we expose ourselves to annihilation over and over, can that which is indestructible be found in us.”
Sophia was quoting Pema Chodron, an American Buddhist writer whom Zoe and Sophia adored and respected.
“Well, Pema’s right. This isn’t the first time you’ve survived appalling loss then re-created yourself, Sophie. That’s why you’re a strong person.”

Just then, Zoe and Sophia heard that odd noise again followed by a crash and Poppy’s high-pitched wail. This time Poppy had fallen through the door in such a way that she managed to avoid Sparky’s steady stream of urine.
“Are you two ready yet?” Poppy yelled.
“Yes, we are. No need to shout,” said Sophia as she rushed into the living room to give Poppy a big hug.
“Okay then,” said Poppy. “I’ll load up the car. Is this everything?”
“Not quite, honey,” said Zoe, who was bent over cleaning up Sparky’s mess. “There’s a suitcase in the bathroom filled with our lotions, make-up and hair stuff.”

Poppy just rolled her eyes and began lugging the bags outside, while Zoe and Sophia argued about who would wear which coat. They each owned an Ibex coats, one gray and one brown. Normally, they agreed to take turns wearing them so they wouldn’t show up somewhere in the same coat. But today they both wanted to wear an Ibex.
“I believe it’s my turn to wear the grey Ibex,” said Zoe.
“No, no, no, no, Zoe. You wore it last. I get to wear the gray one, and you have to wear the brown one.”
“Whatever. Let’s just go.”

On the two-and-a-half hour drive to Woodstock, Vermont, Zoe and Sophia knew they couldn’t talk negatively about Marty or George in front of Poppy. Poppy loved her father, of course, and she’d also known her “Uncle George,” her whole life, so any discussion that put her in the middle was way too painful. Poppy wasn’t overly thrilled about listening to details of Zoe’s and Sophia’s social life either, but since it was the preferred topic, Poppy just sat in the back seat trying to block out the chatter.

“The guy from Tennessee called yesterday, and when I told him we were doing a ski weekend, he said he wanted to fly up to Vermont to meet me.”
“Zoe, he’s only twenty-five years old. What’s he thinking?”
“He claims he’s in love with me.”
“WHAT,” cried Poppy from the back seat?
“Calm down, Poppy, I told him he absolutely should not come to Vermont, and that he’s barking up the wrong tree if he thinks I’m a cougar.”
“What’s a cougar?” asked Poppy.
“It’s an older woman who pursues younger men,” said Sophia.
“Yuck,” said Poppy.
“Anyway, he’s very grateful to me for helping him get out of a terrible situation with this young Russian woman who has ties to the Russian Mafia. The girl tricked thousands of dollars out of the poor kid.”
“Aunt Zoe, how do you even know this guy.  Does he have a name?”
“I know him from an on-line dating site, my love. That’s where I talk to zillions of men.  And his name is Bucky.”

Reluctantly, Poppy asked, “What about you, Mom. Are you dating anyone?”
“No one special, dear,” said Sophia vaguely.
Zoe laughed so hard she snorted. “By that, your mother means she is dating absolutely no one.”
“That’s not true, Zoe. You and I have been out with plenty of guys together.”
“Okay, but let’s just say, we can count the second dates for you on zero fingers.”
Sophia couldn’t argue the point.

“Anyway, Poppy, I’m always on the lookout for suitable guys for your mom and your cousin Lulu.”
“Why Lulu? She’s gorgeous and smart and can find her own guys. And I know for a fact, she’s found someone she really loves,” said Poppy.
“Oh yes, we’ve heard all about that guy, but one never knows.  Bucky is just so cute and sweet.”
“He sounds a little dumb to me,” said Sophia. “Why did he hand over all that money to a Russian girl, who’s still in Russia, by the way?”
“She was needy, and the money was to help her get to the U.S. It just shows Bucky has a kind heart,” said Zoe.
“Let’s talk about something else, Aunt Zo.”

“Do you want to hear about your aunt’s special crush, Jackson from Florida?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Do you want to hear about all the great restaurants we’ve eaten in lately?” asked Zoe.
“Not especially. Let’s talk about skiing.”

“I don’t actually ski, honey,” said Sophia. “Long ago I decided of all the ways to imperil myself, skiing in the cold was my last choice. I grew up in California, and for me, snow is nice to look at through a window.”
“What are you gonna do while we ski all day, Mom?”
“Well, I’ll try the bunny trail maybe, but I brought one of my manuscripts to work on, and I can shop and cook. If I can find a tanning salon, I’ll meditate each day, and if there’s time left over, I’ll see if I can meet some nice man at the ski lodge.”
“How far is the place we’re staying from the mountain?” asked Poppy.
“I’m not sure,” said Sophia. “Lulu only said the house is in Woodstock. I guess it’s been in her friend’s family for generations, but it’s rarely used.”

“Yes, I actually talked to Lulu on the phone the other night,” said Poppy. “By the way, she knows about your matchmaking with Bucky, and she told me she’d rather date an armchair cushion. She also said that her friend from college, whose house we’re staying in, is a lesbian, and she’s bringing her lesbian lover.”
“For joy,” cried Zoe. “I love lesbians. Your mother and I used to have lots of lesbian and gay men friends when we were young, living in Boston. I miss them, don’t you, Sophie?”
“Yes,” said Sophia wistfully. “I’m sure lesbians and gay men actually do live in New Hampshire, but we just haven’t run into them. Let’s face it, New Hampshire’s lovely, but it doesn’t embrace its gay community. Although, it doesn’t really matter where you live; gay people in this country are treated shamefully if you ask me.”
“Before you get on your soapbox, Mom, could you please hand me the directions?”

A few minutes later, the women pulled up in front of a huge old house that sat on a slight hill, overlooking a river. Lulu and her friends heard the Land Rover drive up, and Lulu threw open the front door and dashed across the veranda to the steps. Cries of excitement sang in the air. Unfortunately, the steps had ice patches, and Lulu’s foot caught one of them. She ended up flying out over the steps and skidding the distance to the car on her stomach. Poppy, meanwhile, opened the car door and leapt out to greet Lulu, just as Lulu slid to a stop. Poppy’s momentum prevented her from stepping anywhere except on Lulu’s shapely bottom. From there, Poppy lost her balance and fell length wise on top of Lulu, providing a ramp for Sparky to run sideways across. Of course, Sparky had been holding it for longer than usual, and amidst the four women’s cries of agony and ecstasy, he lost control.

Zoe and Sophia demurely climbed out of the Land Rover and stepped over the girls. They smiled widely and extended their hands in greeting to Lulu’s friends, trying to make the best first impression. Sparky raced ahead of everyone into the house then involuntarily crapped on the floor of the immense vestibule. Poppy and Lulu brought up the rear as they limped inside and headed for the shower.

That afternoon, the whole gang went to the mountain to ski. Lulu’s friend, Brandy, and her lover Sherry graciously supplied Zoe and Sophia with a number of important things they’d forgotten to bring, like skis and ski boots and gloves. In return, Zoe and Sophia offered Brandy and Sherry the use of their lotions, make-up and hair products. Brandy and Sherry thanked them and said they’d think about it.

Everyone except Sophia took the chair lift to the top of the mountain and made several runs down. Sophia slowly walked to the children’s bunny slope, where she frightened most of the young ones with her grimaces and cries every time she fell. Sophia could balance okay when she went down the slope, but she couldn’t master snowplowing. So, the only way she knew how to stop herself was to fall over when she reached level ground. She narrowly missed colliding with a group of four-year-olds, whose mothers glowered at Sophia and hurried their children away to safety.

As dusk began to close the curtain over the vista of amazing mountains and forest, Zoe and the others found Sophia sitting at the foot of the deserted bunny slope; even the instructor had fled by that time. Sophia was encrusted with snow and crying quietly to herself. For once, she wasn’t crying about Marty. Instead, she cried because she was so tangled in her skis that she couldn’t stand up. Poppy and Lulu freed Sophia’s imprisoned feet, and they all drove back to Brandy’s house, for some brandy.

Because Sophia was so traumatized from the bunny slope, the others decided she shouldn’t cook that night, and instead they ordered pizza and salad delivered. Candlelight caught the glow and animation in the women’s faces as they visited around a long table that sat near leaping flames in the fireplace of the elegant dining room. Conversation included updating Lulu’s status with boyfriend,  Poppy’s status with her beloved Fonzi, and hearing the tale of Brandy’s first romantic meeting with Sherry in a country-western girl bar in Austin, Texas.

Zoe and Sophia shared their news too, so the topic of conversation naturally veered around to their social life. Soon Poppy and Lulu, saturated with too much information, seeped from the room, but the lesbian lovers howled with laughter at the sardonic and vivid descriptions of some of Zoe’s and Sophia’s dates.

The next day was much like the first only Sophia did not reappear at the mountain. When the others returned late afternoon, they found Sophia in the kitchen preparing a Greek meal of braised lamb, tomatoes and feta cheese to be served over couscous. Zoe lost no time setting up her Mac laptop on the kitchen island, as she sipped a glass of Zinfandel and watched Sophia cook. Soon the younger ones joined the elders, and each carried in her hand a cell phone, on which they checked their emails, texts, Facebook, and twitter messages.

As Poppy pulled back her dark, soft curly hair into a pony tail, she gestured for Lulu to sit next to her. Lulu flipped back her thick chestnut hair and nestled her shapely bottom on the stool. While Sophia poured everyone a glass of wine, she studied Poppy and Lulu, smiling at the family resemblance in their lovely brown eyes and high cheek bones.

“Hey, Zoe,” Lulu said, “What’s all this stuff about a guy in Tennessee? You know I’m madly in love with my boyfriend.  Why are you trying to fix me up?”
“I’m not really, Lulu. It’s just he’s pursuing me, and I thought I could foist him off on you. Plus, he’s adorable. Come look at his picture.” The four younger women crowed around Zoe.
“Yummy,” said Poppy, “But he doesn’t hold a candle to Fonzi.”
“He’s drop-dead gorgeous,” said Lulu, “But I like my guy better.”

Brandy looked confused. She was a tall, slender woman, with short hair, and she had that woodsy-preppy look, dressed entirely in Ibex clothing. She glanced at Sherry who was short, very plump, and pretty, and she had that artsy look, in a torn t-shirt over sweat pants. Sherry returned Brandy’s glance, raised an eyebrow and shrugged. For the life of them, they couldn’t figure out the fuss over Bucky.

Soon, the women took their places at the dinner table and began eating.
“Brandy and Sherry, do you girls have to contend with bigotry because you’re lesbians?” asked Sophia.
Brandy smiled at Sophia’s bluntness then said, “Living in a place like Texas, we don’t advertise, especially outside of Austin. We’re too afraid of the lynch mobs.”
“She’s exaggerating,” said Sherry. “But we stick with our own. It is hard to be the constant object of so much contempt.”
“What do you mean exaggerating, Sher?” said Brandy. Then she turned to the others as the color rose in her cheeks. “Sherry can’t even be “out” at work because she’s terrified of being fired. I’m lucky. I’m an attorney for the ACLU. They are the good guys. But Sherry teaches art in an elementary school. If the parents found out she was gay, the school would invent some reason to fire her. ”
The other women shook their heads and murmured their disgust.

“When did you first become lesbians?” asked Poppy.
Brandy and Sherry laughed. “We didn’t “become” lesbians,” said Brandy. “From the time we were girls and became aware of our sexuality, we knew we were attracted to other girls and not to boys.”
“Then why do they call homosexuality a ‘sexual preference?’” asked Lulu.
“That’s a social myth,” said Brandy. “Why would anyone choose to be a member of one of the most despised groups of people on earth? Why would I choose to be a soldier willing to fight and die and be governed by the farcical rule of ‘Don’t Ask; Don’t Tell?’ Why would I choose not to be able to marry the person I love because the law says my love is somehow invalid based on my human condition?”

Sophia looked compassionately at the two young women and asked, “How did your families respond when you told them?”
“Mine were fine with it,” said Brandy. “Previous generations in my family were filled with “maiden aunts” and “confirmed bachelor uncles,” so homosexuality was accepted, but not discussed, until I forced the issue.  And my parents are politically correct to a fault, despite what they might feel inwardly.”

“Not mine,” said Sherry. “All through high school I was so ashamed of my secret that I just wanted to die. I didn’t want to be the way nature made me, and I thought if I wished hard enough, I could change and be like everyone else. I waited until after college to come out. Since I was the first person in my family to go to college, I thought my family’s pride in my accomplishments would balance out my sexual identity. I was wrong. They’ve shunned me entirely. Brandy is my only family now, except for a handful of loyal friends like Lulu.”

At this point the women all felt like crying, so they ate in silence for a minute until Brandy said cheerfully, “Hey, let’s go dancing after dinner. I know a bar that has a live band playing tonight.”
The young women were all over the idea of dancing, but Zoe and Sophia were a little tired and tried to beg off. After some coaxing, the older women agreed to go along. Things would have turned out differently, had the young ones just let Zoe and Sophia go to bed.

The six gorgeous women dazzled as they walked into the dimly lit bar where music bounced off the walls so loudly that conversation was out of the question. After ordering a round of red wines, Poppy and Lulu jumped up and hurried onto the dance floor. Both of them were wonderful dancers, and men stood on the sidelines watching, with their tongues hanging out. Pretty soon Zoe and Sophia joined in. Zoe tried to keep Sophia from spastically spinning into other dancers, as her arms and legs flailed without restraint, in her “free form” interpretation of the Golden Oldies the band played. But before long, Sophia was really unpopular on the dance floor.  Finally, Brandy and Sherry danced over to Sophia, creating a buffer around her and made it their job to haul Sophia to her feet every time she tripped and fell.

Just as the band started a lively rendition of Ride Around Sally, a stunningly handsome, young, tall African American man walked into the bar, his eyes wildly searching the crowd. The women didn’t see him at first, but since he was the only African American there, he drew the attention of several customers.

Lulu saw him before the others did. She danced over to Zoe and shouted in her ear, “Aunt Zoe, I think you have a problem here.” Zoe kept on grooving sensuously to the music, nodding her head, pretending she could hear Lulu over the clamor. Lulu grabbed Zoe’s shoulders and turned her body toward the door. Zoe’s eyes widened in alarm.
“Holy shit,” Zoe cried, “That’s Bucky from Tennessee.  What the hell is he doing here?”
Sophia, seeing the horror on Zoe’s face, yelled, “You look like you’ve just seen a Stephen King movie. WHAT’S WRONG?” Zoe pointed to Bucky.

“We gotta HIDE,” said Sophia, pulling Zoe toward the table and gesturing for the others to follow. But it was too late. Bucky spotted Zoe and ran over.  Zoe tried to smile, but the look she gave the man was more shocked than friendly. She grabbed his arm then dragged him off to a quieter place near the restrooms. She learned that he flew to Vermont the night before, checked into a motel and spent the day looking for Zoe. She told him she was flattered by his attention but spat out her dismay at his folly. Then she reminded him of the “rules.” Virtual dates should only actually meet face-to-face upon mutual agreement. With this, Zoe turned on her heal and rushed back to the table. He followed, begging her to stay and dance with him.

“Let’s get OUT of here,” said Zoe to the other women, who at this point were bent over laughing at Zoe’s predicament. The six of them hurried from the bar and into Zoe’s Land Rover. Zoe drove at break neck speed, afraid that Bucky might be tailing her. The women piled out of the car and into the house, and only when the door shut behind Zoe, did she start to see the humor the others saw. And that’s when the banging began.

Bucky stood outside pounding on the door screaming one word over and over, “ZOE, ZOE, ZOE.” Even Sparky’s barks could not drown him out. Just as Zoe started for the door to let the man in, Sophia stopped her.
“Zoe, no good can come from you talking to Bucky.  You’ve tried. Let’s let the others handle it.”
“Okay,” said Zoe, and followed Sophia upstairs to their bedroom.

After debating whether to call the police, the young women decided they had sufficient safety in numbers and invited the deluded, broken-hearted guy inside. They offered him a beer, and sat around the fireplace in the living room, while Bucky spilled the story of his utter devotion to Zoe, the woman of his dreams. When Poppy pointed out that Zoe was over twice his age, he dismissed the fact as irrelevant. Once the women figured out that they were sitting with a sweet, harmless hick from the sticks, who was just “looking for Mommy in all the wrong places,” they relaxed and tried to convince him to look elsewhere for the object of his desire.

After half an hour, Bucky cheered up. If truth be told, he grew downright jazzed by the lavish attention from four, sexy twenty-somethings, and he agreed to a game of Monopoly, which they played until 2:00 a.m. Then they sent him on his way.

Meanwhile, Zoe lay in bed next to Sophia. Although the house had ten bedrooms, they wanted to share a room so they could talk themselves to sleep as they did so many nights at home.
“Sophie, I left my lap top in the kitchen.”
“You don’t need your lap top tonight, Zo. In fact, you might want to take a break from virtual “dating” for awhile.”
“You might be right,” said Zoe.

“You know what’s amazing? For two days I’ve barely thought about Marty. If I were at home tonight, I would be sobbing and obsessing on him. “ZOE, I WANT TO SUSTAIN THIS DETACHMENT. WHAT SHOULD I DO?”

Zoe thought for a moment about the wider implications of her friend’s question. Then she said, “SOPHIA, MAYBE YOU NEED TO MOVE FAR AWAY FROM MARTY. DISTANCE WILL BRING YOU DETACHMENT. OTHER THAN THAT, YOU AND I NEED TO STOP GRASPING AND FIXATING IN OUR HEADS.”

Then Zoe added, “I sure wish we had some Chex Mix up here.”

Hearing this, Sophia jumped out of bed, opened her purse and drew out a jar of Nutella, the hazelnut chocolate spread. As she opened the jar she asked, “Do you think tonight taught you a lesson, Zoe?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“I learned I should become an activist for gay rights. I want to help bring awareness to the plight of these people whom our society treats so badly. Hey, did you bring spoons?”

“Hello? Of course I did. Zo, did you learn anything else tonight?”
“Yes,” said Zoe, as she spooned a gob of Nutella from the jar and licked it slowly, relishing the texture and rich flavor on her tongue. “I learned that my BFF always comes prepared, just like when she was a Girl Scout.”

“Was that a Buddhist thing, Zo?”
“Sounds like.”

While Zoe and Sophia lay nestled in a warm bed in Vermont, eating their Nutella, they talked far into the night about how to start letting go of the obsessions that ruled them. Then the BFFs slipped into splendid slumber, off on another Adventure as the Sublime Consumers or the Lightness of Being.

To be continued…remember if you want to read the whole story, start at the bottom of the blog and read up!  And keep sending in that wonderful advice.  Thanks!

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  1. AMI
    February 19th, 2010 at 14:59 | #1

    I love this one!!! Poor Tennessee guy; so in love, yet such a loose grasp on reality! It sounds like Sophia’s tear ducts are beginning to dry out- which is a good thing. Thank God she has Zoe, Poppy and Lulu to surround her with the love she needs!!! Love the addition of Lulu’s Lebians; they sound like a riot- wish they were real!! All of my girlfriends are (regrettably) heterosexual :) The good news is, Austin is not nearly as biggoted as they make it out to be, and here everyone would agree that Sherry’s family are a pack of real shits…

  2. March 9th, 2010 at 12:45 | #2

    Hi, Ami.
    Sophia and Zoe apologize for taking so long to respond to your message. Lately Zoe’s been whirling around like a rabid bat, and Sophia’s been acting like horseshit on someone’s shoe. But something in the spring air is stirring feelings of rebirth in them both, so they are finally willing to talk to me again..(They can be bitch bags, and their crap is usually aimed at me.)
    Okay first, Poor Tennessee Guy, my ass. You should see him. He could be a model! But you’re right, his unrequited love for Zoe remains in limbo even though he persists in sending her naked pictures of himself. Sophia’s tears are indeed drying up. Why, she’s not sure, but perhaps she’s just tired of having Tolstoy licking the drops from her eyes all the time. He is SO dominating! Lulu and her Lesbians are three of the prettiest, smartist and kindest ladies who ever walked the earth, and Zo & So just loved spending time with them. GIRL POWER ROCKS! So, since Austin is hip with girl love and girl power, let’s have a convention at Lulu and Guy Guy’s house. Do you think Guy Guy would mind if 5,000 lesbians and 5,000 not lesbians met at his house for a couple of days to discuss how we can stamp the irrational hate/fear from the hearts of Sherry’s family and millions like them? Do you think Guy Guy would be willing to buy the beer for the event. Does he have a couple of older single friends he could invite to keep Zoe & Sophia company during the off hours of the convention? Lulu can supply the music…she has great taste. She can also supply the entertainment. Boy-oh-boy can that girl dance (or should it be girl-oh-girl can that chick shake her money maker??). Anyway, thanks for writing, sweet fan.
    Rock on sister.
    Julie

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