As you all know, I do tend to have titles for people in my mind as events are happening, and then also when I write…so hopefully I don’t offend anyone when referring to others by their sexuality. Since you all know me, I am pretty sure you know that discrimination on any basis is not a character trait of mine…or for any of you for that matter 🙂

OK – disclaimer done..

Yesterday was lunch with the lesbian whose wife died a month ago of cancer, and in fact the only remaining lesbian of the group I met on my first day here. The lesbian with the dog as I think of her. She is also black, in a predominantly white/Asian demographic here and in fact thats how we got talking in the first place, I was asking her about racism here. Slight digression… if she had one leg, she could fit so well into a target group…meaning when I get sick of people talking about diversity in my work, which seems to be one of the most misunderstood terms amongst NGO’s, I often say lets find the black, lesbian, disabled woman to make a beneficiary (another term I hate) as she would tick all the boxes…

Lunch was also with another woman I haven’t managed to find a title for yet – I did refer to her as the Prima Donna to the other lesbian who was here, but who sadly left back for the US. Lets keep to Prima Donna for now. She is American, single mum, small and slight, mid 40’s, into healing in, I think an annoying way but can’t put my finger on it yet,  and has a very lovely 8 year old mixed race daughter.

And the dog. Did I mention the fucking dog? Not sure if the dog is a lesbian….she is white though.

The lunch place is lovely – great food, organic, tasty etc. The majority of the conversation ended up being about the dog. Lesbian stating that she felt the dog was drawing her to move back to the US. My tuning out began around then, but I still heard parts of it…the reasons were because the dog was going blind, and was missing the dead wife…nobody at the table could figure out how being back in the US would make any difference. I began to watch my will to leave sidling out of the restaurant. Moving on to the cost of getting the cataracts removed for the dog – $3,500 dollars for those that may be interested. Per eye. Moment of levity as me and Prima Donna both share the thought of fixing one eye would do…then how to figure out which eye would be better for the dog … could perhaps dog kinesiology to work it out…and so on.

But no, levity is not to continue. Back to a natural cure for the cataracts. For the next hour. I fortunately had the 8 year old to talk to, who is great. I went to the loo to escape the inane conversation of the adults, and send a couple of quick ‘save me’ messages to David (the new Man, need a title for him as well). Next a little voice pipes up outside, the lovely 8 year old, ‘I’m surprised you didn’t put the flip flops on to go into the bathroom’. (To qualify, here you remove your shoes entering pretty much anywhere – shops, restaurants, etc. So in the restaurant, there were plastic flip flops for people to use outside the toilets before entering.). I replied that I hadn’t thought of it. She is a little put out by this, did I not realise the floor could be wet? I was trying to control my giggles..

I return to the table, we are still on dog natural remedies. The same natural remedy I must add…I begin wondering if crying will make it stop.

Then we get to leave – I literally am near to tears with relief. On the way out, some woman asks about the (fucking) dog…I nearly rugby tackled her to to the ground to make her stop, but I was too late. 15 minutes conversation about dogs. I am outside, sitting in the car for most of that.

Conclusion? I got back ‘home’ around 4pm, completely and utterly exhausted and did not leave again. 11.20am and still here…loving seeing and listening to the sea.