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Pam knew for a long time her clairvoyance was a trait bestowed on her from her maternal grandmother. However, she wasn’t so sure it was a gift. It was a sunny spring morning, and she had been working hard in the garden. It was the first chance she had to clean up from the winter storm season. The sun was starting to break over the top of house; Pam knew it was near lunch time so she went inside to grab a bit to eat. Afterwards, she grabbed a blanket and took a nap on the patio glider.

Pam bolted straight up; she was out of breath and looking around her yard. A red car. She saw a red car running into another car. Someone was hurt. Who was hurt? She couldn't see. The bright red car, why was it going to fast? The vision faded away. Pam started to see her garden again, the irises had buds, and the little pink shamrock flowers were gently waving with the breeze. A tear rolled down her check as she whispered, “I hate this.” Pam wrapped the blanket tightly around her. She watched the tree limbs dance with one and other. She closed her eyes; she turned her face towards the sun and basked quietly in the afternoon’s warmth.

The visions made her feel impure and used. They had a life of their own which she couldn't control. It also came with the grim responsibility of convincing people they were in harms way, and that made her feel crazy and disconnected from the world. But for one moment with the sun warming her face and with the crisp noise of the wind in the background, Pam never felt more alive and connect to the world around her.

Pam’s body jerked; her feet hit the patio running as she yelled “Not Chris, please don’t let it be Chris.”

Thoughts on Dating after 20 Years of Marriage

I don't think some of my dating plans are going to work out for me. Doing the bar scene is not an option. Problem #1: the bar scene doesn’t get going until 10:30 or 11:00 which is way past my bedtime. Problem #2: Girls must dress to impress which means their private parts are hanging out while guys wear long pants, sleeved shirts and maybe a jacket if they are really trying hard. Absolutely not fare and down right chilly during the winter months. Problem #3: The Pickup game. Oh, just shoot me. I would rather be back at a 7th grade dance standing on the girls side of a crate papered cafeteria staring at my shoes praying for a fast dance song to come over the AP system. Don’t get me wrong, I have fond memories from 7th grade (staring at John Marrow from across the classroom. Sorry, I’m back…). I am just guessing being drawn and quartered would be less painful.

The next plan was to become a lesbian. My girlfriend’s husband said he really liked women and would highly recommend them. So I considered my options. We would have the same parts, so that would be check in the Pro column (nothing new to learn). I know several lesbians, and they are all quite nice normal interesting people. Check in the Pro column. Many seem have hips the size of small canoes. Check in the Con column. Many seem to dress and cut their hair like men, so what would be the point. I might as well date a man. Don’t get me wrong, if Hiedi Klum or Sandra Bullock were to announce they were single and lesbians, Dude, I am there.

The trophy wife plan seems to have some problems associated with it right from the start. Most rich single men are usually enjoying their golden retirement years. While this may not have been a problem for Anna Nicole Smith, dating someone who could have been in the same Boy Scout troop as my dad seems a bit warped and creepy. While there are plenty of 20 something trust fund babies out there, they just don't seem to be hanging out at the garden store or taking book art classes. Besides if I thought dating someone my dad's age was weird, dating someone my son's age is just down right repulsive and skanky (now there is a word I have not used since the 10th grade). So that leaves me with the rich 40 year olds who just happen to be single, I think I might have better luck being labeled a virgin.