HOPSCOTCHING EMOTIONS FIVE


 

                           ADVENTURES IN LESS LIVINGNESS

            Maybe the obstacle is not Limbo landmines, but my own neurosis to solve this clandestine episode. If I wasn’t writing this, I’d collapse with grief.

             ” The essence lies not in the events of life in themselves, not in the things that ever happened to us, but in our inner relationship to those events.”  Ira Progoff.

    It is only seven o’ clock but I’m going to get in bed and watch movies after I go into the house to get some of my summer clothes. The Santa Fe tease of summer is baiting me. I hear the shower that Limbo uses. My head did a 360 and I went to the bedroom door, locked of course, and yelled like hell, “Get out.”  Then I left. It doesn’t feel as good now, but that roar had to come out.  Limbo hides his cars, leaving me open to a surprise visit.

       White Zen said, ‘You have to get him out of there, he’s too mentally unstable, and it’s not healthy for either one of you.”  My head is a dart board of questions, demystifying his plots, options, and prayers. Several weeks after my attorney didn’t receive an answer from Limbo’s attorney he wrote, “Are you going to respond and if so when?” Today it appears he’s gone again, he’s not working at La Posada otherwise he’d be dashing up the sidewalk. I’m in the kitchen of the main house looking for paper towels. The back door opened, and we both just froze.

       “Limbo, I’m really sorry this is happening. Can we talk?”

He took that door and slammed it with every bit of strength he had.  I took a Valium, exhaled and got into bed to watch the film Match.  A few hours later, Knock-knock-knock at my door. Then, “Luellen Smiley.”  I didn’t move. A flashlight speared the drape, and then, “Santa Fe Police.” I opened the door to five Policeman.

      “Come in. What’s the problem?”

      “ Mr. White filed a complaint?”

      “ For what?”

      “ H e said you confronted him.”

      “What? No,, that is not accurate. I’ve known Mr. White for thirty-three years, he has turned against me in a vicious manner and hired an attorney to force me out of this house, and I’m half owner. I tried to talk with him, in a very gentle manner. I can’t believe he called you.”

     “Well you seem to be a very down to earth woman, but we have to respond to the calls. I think it best if you don’t attempt any more reconciliation.”

     “I feel like going to the hospital. You’ve no idea what he’s doing to me.”

     “Would you like us to call an ambulance? We can do that.”

     I shook my head as the incident ricocheted through my heart. The next day the outrage simmered and I sent an email to my attorney alerting him to Limbo’s tempestuous actions. After he read that Limbo called the police, he wrote back a very polite letter of resignation. “This is not my area of expertise. Limbo appears more interested in irritating you than resolving your real estate issues.” To be continued.

Advertisements

Adventures in Singleness


I’ve never been a woman who dated.  There is too much pretense and preparation. My preference is  to just meet him by circumstance, become friends for at least a few weeks, and then either we are inseparable or separate.  Dates are like the holidays, a whoosh of expectation. Had my attitude been more flexible and my social presence more waggish, I could have met more men. They don’t have to be long-term commitments, or marriage, just friends.

The freedom of traveling solo was the prong of my selfishness in my thirties, not anymore. As the curtain drops  on romanticism of solo adventure, it’s really second place to romancing with a partner.

Singleness after several years is feeling the chill , envy of couples embracing in laughter,  staring into a wedding party as if it was a fairytale, dining alone with the TV,  laptop, or music as my audience, but worse of all is wearing the wicked blue robe!  The one that feels like a blanket and looks like it should be thrown out.

The actuality of my detachment from a relationship, is posted everywhere and it is neon bright in my head.  When this singleness sinks my spirit, I take a bath.  Women you know, if you drop down and eliminate, the room that may  not be as you please, or a phone call, text, beep, and  soak out everything, it is bliss.

Freedom is the bait and the blessing. I  can do, go, think, act, without argument or alarm.  I have always been more observer than joiner. Even in High School, in a gang of ten  gals and guys I continually turned down invitations, or bowed out at the last-minute.

If you are a dreamer like me;  youth doesn’t end,  people don’t end, ambitions and passions still erupt and the blood in my veins boils to reinvent, redecorate, and relocate. All of those choices are upon me.

FIRST WEEK058

Taos 2007

 

 

SINGLES


All of them.  I mean all ages, classes, genders, and sexes.  Single people must  be brave; they do not have a partner to hold on to when THE LIGHTS GO OUT.   The eye of the United States Government knows  we are single.  Why are we not included in your speeches, legislation, and laws?330px-WLANL_-_MicheleLovesArt_-_Museum_Boijmans_Van_Beuningen_-_Eva_na_de_zondeval,_Rodin?

COME IN. DOORS OPEN


        My stories stem from the inner voice where all the gaps of expression are liberated.

As a child reared under the MAFIA CODE OF SILENCE, speaking was too terrifying. My diary became the root of my expression. So I write!

I’m self-taught so if you notice my syntax off you know why.  My pen moves from Creative Nonfiction to poetry. Column writing is how I began; I love the 2000 word lifestyle story that rises from adventuress in livingness.  

This year (after a seventeen-year crawl) I’ve finished a memoir:  “CRADLE OF CRIME.”

 THANK YOU FOR VISITING.

Luellen Smiley is a creative Nonfiction writer and award-winning newspaper columnist who writes a bi-monthly column “Odyssey of Love” and has been a regular contributor to MORE Magazine. Her “Growing Up With Gangsters” stories appeared in the New York Post and in Southern California.
Luellen has completed a memoir  based on her life as the daughter of Hollywood racketeer,  Allen Smiley, Benjamin Siegel’s partner and best friend. Her extensive research the past twenty-five years led to numerous TV and Radio interviews regarding her discovery and breaking the silence.