is standing right behind me and might ask me what I’msitting on. Yes, it’s been nothing but high misadventure for me, especiallysince I lost my extremely brave and sincere first husband, awonderful Austrian-American Jew, to combined MS and cancer onFebruary 23, 1985. I loved him so much…even after more than a dozen intensive,fascinating, and downright roller-coaster relationships beforethen, my first real commitment, he was still the only man I evertruly loved (Remigio, stop looking at this over my shoulder!) Anyway, several eventful years and as many nerve-wracking,tumultuous, and sanity-defying relationships later, I landed inthe plastic schoolroom seat in front of Remigio, my futuresecond husband, in a five-week Certified Nurse Aide class heldat a nursing home near Northgate in Seattle, next to a merrilyperking and brewing coffee pot. Innocent and unknowing, I ...

...washeaded for yet another high-pitched roller coaster ride. All my relationships, especially as an adult, have been crazyones. My first husband thought he lucked out marrying his sexyyoung attendant. In his early thirties, Gary was dying horribly,often in great pain, and I was forced to fall deeply in lovewith his stubborn courage and what was ebbing away of his oncetrim and athletic youthful body. He was the first person whotruly needed, wanted, and loved me. His courage lastedcompletely, until the very end. Oh, how I have missed hisloving, gentle arms. After he died, I had several wild, bitter and tragically briefaffairs. If I ever write about everything that happened, itwould make three or four excellent trashy novels. Whatever, itwas fun being single again, a vast relief from the hours ofwatching over Gary’s dying and emaciated form. But Remigio stopped my new single life cold simply by kickingthe frail back of my chair in CNA class—HARD! He received all myundivided attention, distracting me from talking to a fellowclassmate, a middle-aged black lady. He caught me in the middleof accidentally sniffing at her. I apparently was coming downwith a major head cold. Really, I would like to think ‘twas because he preferred thepretty, teasingly mid-calf length crisp white skirt I waswearing for the first time in class to the pretty much bulkilypantaloned, overweight, and married other female denizens of ourclass. Well, Grace, the middle-aged black lady, was only sittingpat. A hard worker of several years standing, she was being“grandfathered in” as a CNA, but still had to take the class. Remigio may have been trying to protect her from me, as I’dbeen sniffling at her for the last three or four sessions…suchwas vengeance from Karen the Terrible. SNIFF !! Grace was sitting to the right front, I was seated to the rearleft, and as I’d recently had an extremely weird experienceinvolving three black men and a basketball, I was fitfully“taking it out” on Grace. I was casting her sidelong glances,and sniffing loudly, intermittently and guiltily consideringfetching her a hot cup of coffee as the pot was brewing closerto me than her. It would have been hard for her to squeezebetween the seats and fetch herself a hot, fresh cup. I begangetting her some coffee. Sometimes I added creamer. I even stirred it with the littlered plastic stir sticks. She finally asked me to add a sugarpacket, please. She liked the coffee, but our distantly commiserativerelationship as two ladies of nursing was rudely interrupted bythe rapid-fire entrance of Remigio’s sneakered foot through thereverberating back of my nearly shattering cheap plastic chair.I’ve lovingly saved the black marks on the back of my whitenursing jacket for years. Turning around, right after the “kick-off,” I astonishinglyfaced a middle-aged, awfully hate-ridden, and flatly Hispaniccold stare. This angry face, however, reminded me of a similarnut-brown countenance, a Middle-Eastern teacher I’d beenattracted to ‘way back at Ohio University in 1978. Said chapalways mispronounced the word “equilibrium” in a characteristicaccent that could shatter a glass retort. He explained the rulesof physical science to us neophyte med students in as high of apitch as he could muster, but it was musical and alluringsomehow…and this kicky guy behind me looked a lot like him. Remigio turned out to be a quite engaging and multi-talentedPhilippino/Hawaiian import, a seventh-degree black belt martialarts expert, a fabulous chef of all regional cuisines and oneheck of a lip-locking rugged kisser, in approximately thatorder. I was an artist and writer of long standing who neededsome work "on the side," so I'd decided to take a CertifiedNursing training course and move in with a little old lady Iknew who needed the help. It was a great free way to continuewith my career without interference. But now this new guy hadshown up in my life. What can you do when they come at you frombehind like that? I tried out assuming there was something niceabout him. He gradually broke down in his enmity towards me, merrilychasing me to the bus stop in his beat-up old blue and whitepickup truck. He soon followed me home, and Mommy said I couldkeep him. Actually, “Mommy” was that little old lady, Carrie, adisabled, fellow "freckly" dwarf (you could spot her) I wasworking for and living with at the time. She needed extensivein-home care, and Remigio went right to work helping us moveinto a larger apartment, even cooking and cleaning for us. Iscarcely had to lift a finger; Remigio was simply everywhere,driving us to church and generally relieving me of my cares andwoes until Carrie abruptly died, peacefully in her sleep. Well,possibly those Catholic nurses gave her a lethal injection. Shemay have been wandering around at night and screaming her lungsout. She had a very bad knee problem, and had kept me awakenights frequently with it. Again, what can you do? We married a week and a day after Cinquo de Mayo, 1991. We’restill madly in love, and near Christmas day of 1994 we wereblessed by a Pinay from Heaven, our little princess Angela,nut-brown as her Daddy and sporting my chipmunk cheekbones. Yes,Remigio is crazy about me now. We should be okay, as long asthey don’t use the nets. This incident may be the only time in history that acold-stricken gal every attracted a lonely, jealously protectiveguy through being an apparently obvious, blatant andcoffee-fetching sniffing presumed bigot. Bigots and non-bigotsalike, take note. I guess I’d suggest that more single white ladies, and anyother intrigued parties, try sniffling (or sniffing) at nearbyblack people to see whose attention they furtively attract. Ofcourse, you may inadvertently attract a black person, whichmight work out quite well for you, especially if they happen tobe an excellent cook -- as the husband of a friend of mine (whoused this method) turned out to be. Hope that he or she has asense of humor. Or, believe in whatever powers that may be. If so, it helps a lot if you fetch them some coffee. It soothestheir tired, ruffled feathers. Seems some folks are moredescendants of birds than lizards. Be sure and add some cream and sugar....