We’ve had fairly odd weather this month. There was a week when it was nearly 100-degrees everyday. Now, we’re entering our monsoon season with low pressure coming up from the south. Today is really sunny and 88. Yesterday it rained in the mountains and rained on the front range after I’d gotten home from our hike. We hiked about seven-and-a-half miles. We had elevation gain too and saw clear alpine lakes.
Tomorrow I have to work all day and then I go straight to the house for the walkthrough and final list of things that have to be fixed or taken care of before we finally list two months late next month. I have dinner with the author and the small group at a bar and restaurant. Because tomorrow is so busy, I’ll do just over ten-thousand steps today so that I can be at 300,000. I guess that I’ll walk my dogs a mile when I finally get home and then I’ll take a walk too to round out the month at 310,000. It was so hot that I couldn’t walk as long as I normally do. It’s unconscionable to not do an average of 10,000 steps a day when I’m mostly on vacation. Next week, I work 42-hours, and I have the following week off. Then the week after I’m back to my three jobs.
The ballet dancer and I had a great hike. I spaced picking up my phone where we’d stopped for lunch and we had to go back up the rocks and smooth granite another time, but she wasn’t mad at me. I didn’t get home until nearly six pm. My dogs and cats were happy to see me. The ballet dancer is seeing a very cool and attractive young man. They have bad timing as he has to move back for school at the end of next month, but I am hoping that they can take a three-day vacation in the fall to stay connected. She’d like to be married, but doesn’t want to force anything. I am always on the lookout for her!
Life is motoring along. I feel like I have a handle on things in my work, social, and active life. I’ll write when I have something juicy and read others’ blogs too.
My son was supposed to live with me one more year in this big house.
On Wednesday I took my cat to the groomers. I read many pages of “Far From the Tree” while I ate green chili hash. I also walked about 3-miles. When I finally got ahold of my son on the way home he said that his girlfriend said sorry that she didn’t see me and goodbye. When I got home he said, “Don’t ever mention my weight in front of my partner again.” I said, “You two got home from the Thrift Store yesterday and unrelated to nothing you said, ‘You forced me to play sports’ and I said, ‘It’s good to be active and it impacted your weight positively.'” And he said it to me for the last time. Well, three times, actually.
I texted his Dad, picked up his Dad, we all talked, and he freaked out. And the one room of Hilton that he trashed out constantly is over. I actually found a sub sandwich box, a pizza box with a garlic butter cup, a moldy glass, a plate, and silverware. And this time, three empty beer bottles. We’d had a coherent conversation when I found nearly all my tupperware–some of it has white spores of mold–under his bed with silverware on June 4th before I left for OR. The time for conversations is over. He can move from the couch to the bathroom in his Dad’s two room apartment. He literally does nothing and it’s not possible to motivate him. He’s a high school graduate and needs to be with his father who knows what it’s like to be male.
His Dad lives in a Brownstone on the third floor with a galley kitchen, small table, small living room and one bedroom. He has no car. Not my problem. I am not being told f-you anymore. He’s 17.5, has three parents and my direct tenure has ended. I shut down his savings and checking and called it good. Well, not really, he’d spent a couple thousand dollars this summer so far and has less than $70 to his name. I took it to him with a couple of checks and his Dad can open an account for him.
Time for male influence. I’m not a punching bag. I also can’t live with him because he won’t follow simple rules and never has. He is a lot easier to live with when there’s another adult ego in the house. Honestly, he knows what I’m willing to do. And I’ve saved in an ESA for him since he was 2-months-old. He has 20k which would pay for a year of a state school. I will:
Buy him a car when his Dad will co-sign a loan for $100 for 36-months that I think that he should pay, but it wouldn’t be my loan
Pay any tuition check or electronic statement to school, college or university when he has Cs or better in all classes
Insure him until he’s 26 (medical and dental)
I won’t:
Continue to have him direct profanity at me
Bail him out of jail
Support or help with a kid that he has fathered (outside of living on his own completely and paying all his bills–but you can’t do that at 17)
He called me narcissist and abusive. I know that his girlfriend has a friend who calls social services all the time to try to get out of her house. His current girlfriend has been to residential treatment three times. She also has gotten in two car accidents already and had the last one on Tuesday. He runs with kids who have had lots of years of therapy, and frankly, he has too, and think that their accountability is pretty limited. They’re all either addicted to vaping devices or smoke a ton of pot.
It’s so nice to be in this empty house. Sure, there are a ton of pets here and only the one almost 12-year-old dog is mine, but it’s good to not have someone who begrudgingly cleans the kitchen, sleeps all day, and binges Netflix, YouTube and sometimes Prime and Disney most of the day and typically expects all meals. Sometimes he gets up at 1, so I don’t make but one or two. I changed all the streaming passwords, because these are not a car, school or health. He does coach, and has mostly done cardio with me on Mondays, but I’m just so tired of fighting. He apparently resents the years that he had to play sports and an instrument. Those years ended in 8th grade.
Last night I went to the women’s discussion group. It was wonderful. I made some good connections. On Monday I go to dinner with an author and check out the other group. I also got an invitation to an exclusive formal event on August 20th, which will be with other like-minded folks. Bowling is done until winter. I have guitar. I’ll have a mini-golf team this fall.
I’m still not going to swipe.
Yesterday my best friend and I swept all the masonry in the back garden. She fell in love with the view, the creek that feeds into the river, and the garden. She had her husband come over and work the numbers with their loan officer. They want to buy a house for their kids. The realtor came by and photographed all the issues with workmanship. She hugged my best friend and went to hug me and I said, “I’m way too sweaty. I’m a dirty hippy right now.” She said, “She is sweaty too; I felt it.” I laughed and said, “She’s definitely glistening.” Then they both complimented each other on their outfits.
She told me what the next steps are. We should be able to do a walk through on the weekend, but I can’t personally on Monday because I work all day and have dinner with the author and a group. The realtor leaves for Germany on Tuesday. She’ll been in France and Spain next to walk the Camino. I think that she’s back mid-August. I’d imagine that we sell the house either to my best friend, or sometime at the end of summer.
She’s so competent and sexy. My best friend told me that she’s going to tell her that I like her and I said, “Don’t. We’ve been through that. When we hike the summit, I’ll bring the Ballet Dancer so I have a buffer.” She said, “You’re going to have to start hugging her. That’s just her.”
ARG. It sucks sometimes to just be attracted to women. It will be interesting to be back at work and see the climber. She always misses the first two weeks of work because of Burning Man. I really hope that by then I’ve had some dates. Again, I’m not going to force anything, but it would be nice to have some kissing–not sweaty hugs though.
I can stop the three jobs that I have currently in six-years. I want to work outside and also want to work 20-hours a week. I think that with the bank holidays I have 16-weeks off every year, and really have no idea how people have 2 or none. My work wears me out. I don’t see myself retiring for another 17-years, but I do see myself working way less. I’ll be so excited not to have a mortgage in 6-years too. I think that I can start pulling from my pension when I’m 59-and-a-half, which is about 10-and-a-half-years from right now.
The house looks pretty good. I went over there last night before my guitar class. To me, it’s just making sure that the carpet is ok, the carport security door has been fixed, and there is damage to the closet door (hollow core) in the basement bedroom now. Otherwise, I know that the new Project Manager would like all outlet covers and light switch plates matching and are, well, on. I think that they put silicon on the wasp hole. There was zero activity. I saw one more Chinese Elm in the day lilies, and think that we should buy a few plants for the garden beds, and my best friend is going to help with that tomorrow morning. I may put Round Up in the driveway on the cracks. If there is any chance of rain or any wind, I won’t. I don’t use it at my house because of butterflies and bees, but where the house that I’m selling is there are mostly lawns and such. People don’t seem to think about impact over there. Hopefully, the realtor and I can complete the final walkthrough with the company this week. Hopefully, she won’t hug me.
Yesterday marked a year from when my son has to move out of my house. After he does I’m going to take everything out of my house. I want a fresh start and whole vibe here. The porch extension will start that feeling. I’d like to begin that in May of next year so that it’s done before the heat ensues.
Climate change is really odd here in the desert. We have just begun extremities. The spring was incredibly wet, and once we were a month into summer, we started having extreme heat. I think that means that some March seasons we could get 4-5 feet of snow. It melts here because of our elevation, but that will be another extremity.
Last night I woke up right at midnight and was super hot. I think that it was 79 in my house. I noticed that my son and his girlfriend weren’t home yet and was surprised. I went back to my room and heard them about 10-minutes later and then they were gone. I texted and called him and they went to the gas station to get snacks. Teenagers are so gross. I really struggle with his huge stomach. I wish that he cared, but he doesn’t, and he has a really nice face so girls don’t seem to care either. He said that they had fun dancing. I doubt that I’ll see him before I leave this morning. I have to take our long haired cat to the groomers and plan to walk for about 45-minutes and then I’m going to read. We’ll see what he talks about with respect to the climber when I see him before I go bowling.
Years ago when my son was breaking laws and getting into trouble at school I heard a book review of “Far from the Tree,” and then I read more about the book. I finally ordered it as a used copy. If you’ve never used abebooks, you really should because you just pay to have books shipped to you. You can get almost anything for a few dollars. Anyway, it is so thick! It’s also great. I have just started the chapter on deafness. It would be great if I could finish it by August 13th. After that day, I’m back in the work tunnel!
Today was a good day. I had lunch with a former colleague and took my son to a bus station so he could see his girlfriend. He and I biked two miles this morning and did 20-minutes of cardio as well. I just didn’t climb today, which is a small bummer because my friend went with her son. I’ll go next week, but they’ll be in Belize. I’m not doing Zumba tomorrow. I’m hiking 5-7 miles with my son’s godmother.
At the house, there is so much progress. The tile is completed in the bathroom and the painters shellacked the walls and repainted after putting plastic on the carpet. Now, it’s fixing the carpet so it looks cleaner on the stairs and doing a deep clean. The company is nearly done with the backyard landscaping and my son and I pulled all the weeds up front and I took out the Chinese Elms which had volunteered everywhere. I also mowed. I think that the folks across the street will regret turning down my low offer. It’s going to have lots of curb appeal and the inside will look great!
Last night I was getting some thinly veiled criticism at worst and definitely some challenges regarding to my never co-habiting or merging finances again. I tried to explain the concepts in relationship anarchy and two of the women at our dinner party got stuck on how you de-escalate with someone. I think that, for me, anyway I will always make clear that I won’t live with anyone or have money decisions that are collaborative. It’s funny because I’m super generous. I’d happily pay for hotel rooms and the like. I just don’t want anything day-to-day. If you keep that consistent and don’t deviate from it, then you’d never have need for a separate conversation about de-escalation. Another woman said that she couldn’t be emotionally intimate with more than one person. I told her that I have larger amounts of emotional intimacy with friends anyway and that my best friend knows more about me than my two ex-spouses combined. It doesn’t have to make sense to everyone. It’s my life.
At lunch today I told my former colleague about the lack of understanding and she was shocked. She said, “I would have defended you!” She asked if they knew any truly happy marriages and I told her one woman had never been married, the other had worked through lots of problems in counseling, and that my best friend loves her husband and jokes about spending all of his money. She basically gave that look that meant, “Case in point.”
I’m so excited for this week!!! I have a small group discussion with one group that I belong to and perhaps dinner with the author and another meet up as well. I have the normal stuff with guitar and our last game of bowling too. Incidentally, I got a turkey+ (4 strikes) in my third game. That was quite the ego boost. There is a good vibe right now and I’m grateful.
Yesterday was emotionally intense. Around 3 I got a text from my Realtor and she told me that she had hung up with the Chief Operating Officer (COO) of the company who puts together projects for home sales. He felt badly about my getting stung at the house and winding up in Urgent Care, so he’s hiring out the landscaping. He called me about an hour later and told me that he was sorry. That went a long way for me. This process has been a complete freakshow. I liked having that acknowledged. I’m still going to write him out a timeline of everything. The house was supposed to be listed 7/1 and the company said that we could after 6/16. Here we are!
Shortly after I hung up with the COO, another Project Manager called me. He and I are meeting with landscaper today, and I’m hoping that we’ll also have time before I bowl tonight to document in pictures the horrible work and destruction. I want to also show him all the messes–like dumping joint compound and paint into the carport. I also want him to have photos that he takes and uploads of the destroyed sleeper sofa to the front facing app that the company uses for project updates. I wonder if there is paint on the carpet or problems under where they put it in the now finished basement? That wouldn’t shock me.
The day before the neighbors who want to buy the house cancelled a meeting with my Realtor and hired a Realtor. I was so upset. Mine explained to me that just means that they have to pay her and pay theirs. It’s dumb. Also, it makes me feel as if they don’t trust me at all. So, I’ve made a decision. The house is worth 525k now, and so they can have it for 500k. If that isn’t acceptable, I’ll get it looking pristine and we’ll go through the whole staging process–I have things to put in it–and list it. It will sell for well over 525k then, and I don’t need the money soon anyway.
I have decided that one thing that I want is a porch extension. I don’t like shoes in house. I want to design a little entryway because my porch is scary and people fall off of it anyway due to the height, and I’d like the sides of the small entryway to have boxes inside. I’ll call it the shoebox. People can put their shoes in the boxes. They put them back on when they leave. I’m going to use the money for it and then get the rest in CDs and another account so I can move $7,500 a year into my IRA. I don’t want my lifestyle to shift very much. I do want that one thing: the shoebox. There are certainly other things that I want to do in my old house, but can do them anyway when I’m not paying monthly maintenance to my ex-wife. Two payments left!
So, my Realtor is to thank for this shift. She and I had to text much of the day yesterday. She’s such an ace.
It’s been weird to work on the house. It made me think of my Dad a whole bunch too, and I scanned a picture of me in elementary school and one of him from high school and made a FB post. I look identical to him. My son does too, but has brown hair and blue eyes, so people don’t see the resemblance which is uncanny, because people are obsessed with skin and eye color. Good old threads of racism. Anyway, it’s just been heavy.
As a result of all the emotion and the savior complex that now I’ve put the Realtor in, I had another dream about her. It was one of those where she was coming onto me and I was confused by it. We did wind up kissing and such. It’s a dream, and I don’t confuse it with reality. I also don’t touch or hug her. I’m good with boundaries. Crushes, even when you’re 48-years-old are just sucky.
I was born in the city that I live in; however, my Dad was in a Civil Engineering program 25-miles away so I was first taken as a newborn to married student housing. We moved when I was 13-months, and then we moved all the time literally. This particular move was because my Dad dropped out of the program. I was always thinly blamed for that, which is so stupid. I didn’t ask to be born.
I guess that I had wicked colic. My Mom never much of an eater, and she said that I just basically screamed all the time; but given that my Mom really only liked coffee and cigarettes, I’m sure that my food wasn’t nourishing. I was weaned at 3-months. My Mom was obsessed with me. She held me while I slept. I eventually slept in 16-hour stretches. I guess until I could move around, I was dissociative 🙂 May have had something to do with the fact that my Dad wanted to leave me to die in the snow when I was screaming. My Mom told me that. He decided against it and when I was 5-months, I wasn’t colicky anymore.
On the fourth of July in 1981, I climbed up the hill behind the four-plex that we were renting at the time and got comfortable. That was the only time in my life that I have ever been stung by a bee. When bees sting you, they die and the barb stays. I’d been stung on the wrist and my arm looked like Popeye that night. I love bees. I know that if I hadn’t probably almost squished it in the clover where it was working, it wouldn’t have stung me. My arm was HUGE and we had to keep mixing a paste of meat tenderizer for it. My Mom did that many times and then I started doing it. I was 7-years-old when I got my first sting.
I do not love wasps. I do not love hornets. I have a complete disdain for yellow jacket wasps.
I have to complete all the conditions of probate. I have to file estate taxes by next June. I have to obtain a Personal Representatives Deed. Since 2014 these are many types of tasks that I have had to do. It’s well different than fighting with doctors who wouldn’t let my Mom get surgery, wouldn’t let my Dad take Seroquel, etc. He couldn’t even have one shot of whiskey. Not one. He asked the Medicaid Physician to kill him in November of 2019 and the rounding doctor said he wasn’t terminal. He told my Dad to pray. My Dad told him that he was an atheist. The doctor said, “Pray for death.” Did it work? He got COVID 5-months later.
My son and I went to the house to use weed whackers, but because the soil is so good the prickly lettuce was like bamboo. The Russian thistle could mostly be pulled, but some really had thick stalks. We borrowed hand shears and a bypass lopper from a neighbor. This neighbor wants to buy the house. That would be great. We could stop doing yard work then because I could sell it for 20k less.
The whole thing is Monopoly money anyway. 75k goes to my ex-wife and I have to ensure that I don’t do anything which will result in my having to pay capital gains taxes. Luckily, the final estate appraisal fee can come out of the estate account. There is very little money in there and I’ve already paid $6787.03 out of my pocket, and don’t want to pay anything again. Oddly, that is about what my debt is for the the next 19-months. Almost to the penny. I thought of it as the retainer for the lawyer, new engine mounts for my vehicle, and the trees and irrigation system, but it was really about what I was short this year. I know it didn’t help to be paying maintenance.
The subcontractors who work for the company that gets their piece of the Monopoly money pile at closing are actual shitty people. New things were Cheeto shrapnel, Monster cans and a divided lime. The latter was on the mailbox. When I moved it, a yellow jacket decided to sting me. I think he wanted the lime for a food home. I was able to do 3-hours of yard work, and it certainly hurt. However, yesterday my hand was disappearing. I went back and forth to Urgent Care because my insurance had changed and I initially had forgotten my cellphone. Anyway, it got so gross last night even through two Prednisone. I know that I’m not technically allergic to stings, but I do get weird reactions. I hope that I can bowl on Wednesday. The oven mitt that my hand has become reminded me of my first sting, and how these subcontractors are really unprofessional and sloppy.
Fat, red, swollen hand is difficult to use. Last night it was also past the wrist and 2/3 of the way up my forearm
Yesterday was so nice. I think that the high was 76. I did all the pet duties in the morning and then texted around with friends to ensure that I have some plans before I go back to my two other jobs. My new mentor: a journalist and an author, and I will grab dinner on the 24th or on August 14th. I can’t wait. She’s an East Coaster and probably 5-10 years older than me. She has two long-term partners who get along and is best friends with her ex-husband.
I only have two long-term friends who are lesbians. They’re six-years apart and their birthdays are just days apart. I had lunch with one of them at a Brewery yesterday and I’d seen the other to climb. I love talking to both of them. And, I’m glad that I’ve kept a couple of women who are romantic with women in my life.
I hadn’t had lunch with my friend since I had most of a week off in April–she always forgets that I have to be at work every weekday with the exception of June and July. Actually, I work the entire week of the 31st this year for training which is less than half of my per diem and that’s ANNOYING.
The last time that we had lunch in April she recommended “Attached.” After I read it, the nice guy from work read it, and now my best friend from work has it. I didn’t get book recommendations, but we really caught up. She has had to replace a knee and will have to have the other replaced. Surgery sucks. I haven’t really been around anyone who does very well after surgery. One of the servers was really friendly and had body work that was based on Miyazaki. My friend wanted ice cream, so I had the server take $10 in cash after I forced her to take it and she went down the street and returned with two chocolate cones. One for my friend and one for her. It was really cute. When I meet kids like her, I keep hoping that my kid will be like that when he actually has a working prefrontal cortex.
I came home with just enough time to let the pets out, return texts, and then my son came climbing with me. He got 3/4 of the way up a route and I was about 6-feet higher than I was yesterday. I feel so shaky with I’m not on belay with a partner, but on auto-belay. However, I can climb any day that I want until Halloween because of the way that auto-belay works, and this outdoor wall is set up. That’s good news, and I just need to get comfortable. My hands are somewhat torn up because the handholds and footholds are outdoors and get marred. However, I don’t like gyms well enough to spring $120 a month. I’ll just climb on this wall June through October and then boulder until the following June.
My best friend had her friend host music night last night. I had never been to her friend’s house. She is a really good dancer and a clinical psychologist. She can also play violin. There were very few women there. I had my teammate come to music night and she had fun. She’s a really accomplished musician, and has a great voice. Finally, the nice guy and his dance teacher showed up. He lead “Rivers and Roads,” and we layered the harmonies. It was beautiful. He’s going to Portugal with his Dance Teacher tomorrow and then next week, he’ll leave for Brazil to study with a Master Samba Teacher. We played another spiritual song and sang it, but I can’t remember the name of it.
Now, I’m off to Zumba and then yard work at the house. I need to make lots of progress, so I’ll probably drag my son and take him some of the distance north to his girlfriend. My Boss is a really good dancer and is dancing with us today, so I’ll try not to get too intimidated.
Climbing on auto belay is frightening. When you fall, you fall a few feet and you need to make sure that you place your feet toward the wall. You can start whacking your body and your face on hand and footholds. We got there and the wall wasn’t open. So, we bouldered. Just like me I got up the rock really quick and then had no idea how to get down. I’m the same on a summit. I can get up really fast–especially for my age–but my janky left knee makes going down really slow. I need to start bringing my trekking poles.
Anyway, we stopped bouldering because we were burning our forearms. We weren’t pumped. The rock was way too hot. I think it was 94. Then we talked. My friend has grown impatient. Her partner’s ex-wife hasn’t moved out of the house yet, and they’ve been in relationship 16-months. They had a chat recently and my friend’s partner told her, “I know that I’m not giving you what you need and deserve.” She almost cried. I feel so badly for her situation.
I went ahead and went to the bar to be in air conditioning, have beer and tons of water after we climbed. I had a couple of good conversations. The crowd was really, really young. The nice guy met me late and we put our names in to sing and weren’t called so we left and went to the good venue. He had to work today so he got tired and we didn’t sing there either, but he only smoked a tiny amount of pot at the good venue and we both ate there so he was cool. He also is addressing his codependency and not obsessing on the girl in FL right now. We had wonderful conversations.
I’ve got less than 80-pages left in Gahran (2017). I think that I have had some shifts. If you’re not looking for a traditional beginning, middle and end upon death, you might want a partner just like a friend. I had learned in Fosse (2021) that relationships without demands and expectations tend to cause less of a need for therapy. I got that then. Now, I think that I’m coming to wanting some partners who are just like a friend to me. Having a great time in that moment and then navigating how often she would like to see me. I spend so many days quietly in my house when I’m not working. I may not get a text or personal email all day. I’m good at it. The only time I get lonely is during holidays. I think that my workaround would be doing something huge or otherwise epic for a holiday.
Yesterday, our teacher and safety person at the wall said that he climbed a difficult Class 3 long mountain on the 4th. Why didn’t I do something like that? Not a difficult Class 3 with no partner, but something fun and different. I think it’s because I am usually around for my son. He’s really busy with his girlfriend most of the time these days and does family stuff with her family. I don’t want to join or do I want to seek out a close friendship with her parents. They’re nice. Her mother shot lots of prom pictures for Senior Prom. I just don’t feel close to them, or immediately drawn.
In ten-days I have a new Meet Up that was directly recommended to me. I am excited. Three-days after that I have a women’s discussion potluck Meet Up. Again, I’m excited. I am actively making new friends. I’m going to have coffee with a new mentor before I go back to my full-time job and start teaching a class that I’ve taught a whole bunch of times. I need to add some neuroscience in it, but that won’t be a heavy lift for me. However, I ought to start this ten-month working cycle with way less stress. The house will be sold. I will not be paying any maintenance. I’ll have been divorced a year. My son is not in high school. And, I have new friends who have more experience than my limited and dated experience with ethical nonmonogamy.
It takes me awhile to put things together. I’m reflecting on the demise of my parents today. My Dad has been gone three years, and my Mom just over a year-and-a-half.
I mentioned that I’m on Slack now. It’s been fruitful–good connections. Last night during bowling our other teammate asked if I was dating or swiping or anything and I told her that I’m not. I’m actually fine being solo too. My divorce isn’t even a year finalized yet, and I know that will be a shift for me. Today I’m climbing with my friend and going out later to sing. The weather is disgusting. The night before I woke up at 4 and the house was 80 and this morning I woke up at 5 and the house was 81. It’s 71 right now; I’ll see if I can get it a bit lower in here. I have a large attic fan. I can buy a new cooler for the whole house (roof) next spring. I’ll shop around too. There’s gotta be one less than 10k installed, right?
Back to Slack. People wrote about aging and dying parents. I figured it was time for me to process in writing.
My Mom shattered her shoulder in 2014. My Dad called me at work and I had to tell my Boss that I was leaving early. She was a bit shitty about it, but my Dad sounded terrible on the phone. I rushed over there. My Mom was laying on the floor and looked ashen and gray. It was probably her 12th fall. The fire department had been getting irritated with her, because they had to help her all of the time. I asked her where it hurt and she said in her right arm. My mother had been paralyzed on her left side most of her life. I never knew her to be able to use her left side at all and she walked with a limp. This disability called hemiplegia was a result of a stroke that she had when she was in college at the age of 21.
Back to the floor in 2014. I didn’t want to move her; although, my Dad kept saying to please pick her up or help him do so. I stayed until the Fire Department got there and she winced when they put her back in her wheelchair. I heard a pop too. They transported her to the hospital, I think. Or she followed up that week. I don’t remember. I do remember seeing the x-ray and the doctor saying, “You just hurt looking at that,” where the socket was and bone shards were floating. They never operated. They had excuses. One time she went for surgery and hadn’t been off two of her medications long enough so they sent her home. Then she got the run around. Her one, good, usable arm could eventually be raised to almost shoulder level. Of course her other side was still paralyzed. I tried to work, finish my dissertation, parent, and attend to a new marriage while doing all these things for my parents.
She survived a stroke. She survived losing her son at the age of 39. She survived her childhood. She survived a terrible marriage. She survived that fall. She survived COVID. Then for the next year-and-a-half, she disappeared. Her voice got smaller and smaller. I used to visit her every week. During COVID it was phone calls for three-months, but with her tiny voice I couldn’t hear her. Then the staff broke rules and opened her window, put her ten feet back, I wore doubled masks and talked to her 6-feet through the window. I don’t think that I got to be next to her for 9-10 months.
I had gotten married a month before my Mom shattered her shoulder. One time, my Mom was in either the hospital or rehab as she was for three-years at intervals all the time, and my son, my wife and I had flu. We couldn’t move. They were both throwing up, and I was just achy, in bed, stomach churning for days in December during my vacation. I couldn’t get ahold of my Dad on the phone. My wife called her mother and her mother’s boyfriend and said that she would sanitize a key and put it in the mailbox. When they got to my Dad, he was on the floor covered in pee. They sat him up, gave him a glass of water that he gulped, and then he drank two more. He had the same flu. If they hadn’t gotten there when they did, he probably would have died on the floor. He went to the hospital. These things are the way in which people blow through 225k. For years you pay co-pays, a few thousand for your portion of 3-9 days in rehab, caretakers in your home, and then 11 – 15k per month for skilled nursing until you have 3,000k to your name.
All that to say that when the house sells, I’m meeting with my attorney to get my affairs in order. My parents had a will and all documents, but it didn’t help them ultimately. My son will not be my POA or MPOA like I was via my parents’ Durable Power of Attorney. They never asked me. They just did that. I had just turned 40 and had to try to do things that I was legally required to do.
I’m setting up a scholarship which will be permanent in my brother’s name this fall which will pay fall and spring. I’ll put 7,500 in my IRA every year, and when I’m 62, I’ll start paying out 12,000 every year to my son. I’m starting to pay for long-term care insurance this year or next at the latest. I need my Attorney to advise me with which company and the like. I’m changing my will too. I’m getting a DNR right now. I need to see options for people who don’t have a Durable Power of Attorney. That won’t be my son.
I feel so much better today compared to the way that I felt yesterday. I was just heavy and low.
Zumba was actually cute. I’m still hideous, but don’t care one bit. My son went with me! He is actually a really good dancer so although he had no clue about the steps and turns, he just danced his ass off! He got in the car in an “Iron Maiden” t-shirt which is so funny. He dresses like the boys that I hung out with on the smoking pad (patio) next to our lunchroom in high school, but tends to wear very tight jeans. He had on his plaid wool cap too. He looked a bit like Matt Dillon in “Singles” as well. I put my foot down and made him change into the sweatpants that I bring in the car, which are usually for when I pick him up in the morning at a friend’s house and he smells like death. I have drum sticks and a North Face t-shirt too that I keep in my car. I thanked him for dancing with me. He’ll dance with his current girlfriend at the climber’s house on the 25th too. I’m so glad he’s moving. It has been so alarming to watch him gain so much weight since the pandemic.
I finished “Broken Horses.” Although I really don’t desire ever to speak to my ex-wife again, I’m so grateful that she introduced me to Brandi Carlile. We saw her 5 times together, I think. She’s phenomenal and her book is so raw, vulnerable, and authentic. It makes you want to chill with her.
I have book club this afternoon. “The Devil’s Rooming House” was really good. I like to read books that are put together with research and don’t get into the psychology very heavily, because then I can do diagnostic decision trees in my head while I read it. Not that I would ever want to touch murderer’s diagnoses, but it’s fun intellectually. I’ll leave that stuff to people like James Garbarino.
I think that some of my mood was because my son was so nice. He walked the dogs with me on Friday night, and went to Zumba. He rarely does anything without being asked. And, I have to be on his ass constantly about doing his laundry and ordering his room before he leaves to be with his girlfriend. He was nice for many hours and then spent the day with his Dad, and I really don’t have money right now to go out, so I read, weeded, and hung out with my pets. I think that yesterday was just derivative mostly of the quiet reflection and some of the things that I’m going through currently are in fact, sad.
I refilled my shower gel and met a sweet runt Norwegian Elk Hound and the proprietor told me that her name is Smokey and that she has so many nicknames that Smokey is just one of her names. I told her about the name cluster chart for one of my cats, and she got it. That is the first time that anyone has understood how nicknames can have other off shoots from other nicknames and why I’d have a chart of that. She was my brand of weirdo. I love weirdos.
I thought about my Mom.
I thought about my son.
I thought about how I’m a weirdo and that was one thing that my ex-wife just got.
I thought about how weird it is that I’ll be selling this house soon.
The good thing was that my sad, psychic energy reached my mentor. She texted me out of the blue with my sign-in note from her art show that she had in 2015 or so. Then she sent me some of her work that she’ll be showing soon in Santa Fe. I saw something that no one had. After a bit she asked how I was and I said pretty low today. She said that she was glad to connect in those valleys. I love her. She’ll be traveling soon, and I’ll get to see her. I’m really lucky.
I guess that I better use a little bit of this momentum and walk my dogs and scoop litter. Then I can lift before I shower and go to book club. I don’t know if I’ll see (except briefly) my son until afternoon. He’s walking home from his Dad’s apartment in a couple of hours. I’ll cook chicken piccata tonight. I think that I’ll have him bike with me to Whole Foods to select a veggie. Costco didn’t have brussels sprouts when we went on Friday, and that was a small tragedy. Again, I own that I’m a weirdo.
These are some drawings that my Dad did which I found in a footlocker one time
I dreamt about the Realtor…again. I met her for dinner and my son was sitting by me and my best friend would be joining. The waiter got really antsy. I looked like shit. I was un-showered in my Adventure Time t-shirt and some beat-up jeans and the Realtor looked gorgeous and was confident and poised like she usually is. My son was quiet–so I know that is a dream. Finally, the Realtor went out to the parking lot after sending a text and came back in fairly quickly and then she got out a P-card from her firm. She was going to run it in the remote credit card machine, and then changed her mind and whipped out another card that was my best friend’s and the waiter balked. She explained to him that my best friend was out in the parking lot–parking–and would be joining. She got there just in time for us to toast–my son had a Pellegrino–and I reminded my son and best friend to make eye contact. I didn’t have to remind the Realtor.
My son asked me yesterday if I’d heard from the climber and I told him no. He asked why I don’t text her, and I said that I don’t chase. I also told him that she is Batman. I recall when we were in my bed after the ballet and she was talking about comets. I didn’t know what the hell she was talking about really, because I wasn’t as well read as I am now:
“The Polyamorists Next Door”
“The Many Faces of Polyamory: Longing and Belonging in Concurrent Relationships”
“Plural Loves”
“The Ethical Slut”
“Stepping off the Relationship Escalator: Uncommon Love and Life” came yesterday, but I want to finish “Broken Horses” first. I had to read “The Devil’s Rooming House” within 24-hours so I’m ready for book club on Sunday in between things too. But, I digress.
The climber is Batman because she is a satellite to me. She’s not a comet. She has a signal. My son was at her house a couple of weeks ago dancing. I work with her some weeks–I have to say some because she doesn’t sleep, but instead adventures to the max so sometimes literally is still elsewhere on Sunday nights or Monday mornings–and can feel her office when I’m at work. She’s Batman because there is a bat signal that emanates from her home, which is blocks from mine, from conversations with colleagues at times, in my car for commutes, and of course occasionally in the building.
OK, I participate in a Slack channel now. It’s a good community and nice to have some conversations in it which are related to a life that I am leading alongside many others and also serves to discuss podcast episodes. I like the connection on the app so far. I really want to see some of these folks personally (In real life: IRL) someday. I haven’t had a date in a long time and will not get on an app. I just can’t. I know that when nothing is going on, I would have sad and empty feelings and that it would be generally a time sink for me.
I texted Aquarius yesterday and asked her if she wanted to head west to see the Ballet Dancer, and she said that she had a friend in town who is a musician. We drove up there and sat around in a dive bar nursing a beer. When ballet dancer got there, we split a pitcher and then walked around the outdoor mall and decided on tacos. Libra bought them all on the sly including guacamole! So kind.
The musician said that she spent a whole year swiping and it was incredibly labor intensive and just wore her out completely. She said what I hear a lot, “I eventually deleted the app.” I think it sounds depressing, but I do know that apps work for lots of folks.
Ballet Dancer has a neighbor who she pranked about his parking in the handicap spot near her unit. She would make signs and put them on the sign with his name, and when he talked to her about it she feigned surprise. That farce and the signs were really funny. The guy is odd though. He’s spent all spring with her which has included sleeping on her couch after watching movies and vice versa and has never kissed her. He has hiked with her and made her dinner. He called her “little lady” via text last night. Ew.
All three of these women are from the south though. In addition to being raised to be pure, only in love with God, and feeling all wrapped up in living a life that was probably only endemic to life in 1950s US, they have religious baggage and given that they’re 26-31, are working out what it means to be female. One is lesbian who’s recently out of a controlling straight marriage, and the other two are heteroflexible at least slightly. Swiping is probably avant-gard, and certainly having a neighbor in your apartment is maybe sinful.
My parents were atheists. They baptized my brother and I right after we were in the accident, and of course, my brother didn’t survive. All my family on both sides were Catholic, so I decided in college to study in classes for a year, take communion, and get confirmed. I went to church from 1994 to about 2007, actually. Then I got divorced and thought it odd at all to get my marriage annulled when I had a 1-year-old child. Also, being out, I could never take communion again. One of my colleagues is married to a man and is a devout Catholic and draws a lot of strength from Catholicism. He takes communion. I can’t say I understand that at all, and I do know, however, that religion is deeply personal and complicated. I think if you watch some of the documentaries and dramatizations about the priests in the Catholic church, you certainly get a dislike of much of the cover up and condoning of abuse that has gone on for many years. Again, religion is complicated.
Relationships are also complicated. I’m not going to swipe. I could see myself going to a Universalist church to check it out. I belonged to an MCC for several years and did well with a sermon that I delivered at the two services. Community is important and a majority of my friends have their own kids and such so I don’t spend consistent amounts of time with them. I think that getting lonely is common though. However, I was much more lonely when I was married.
Return 