My ex-wife moved out more times than likely the years that we were together. I’d have to count and don’t want to do so.
My ex-girlfriend is falling into their categories. I’m not honoring her bullshit “soft breakup.” We’re done romantically.
Her brand of poly is hierarchical and involves the same “afterthought” versus “taken for granted” in terms of “veto” versus “concerns.” Fuck that.
I’m going to be her friend. And she is fun to be around. I learned a ton about communication and conflict in relationship with her for our year together.
I have a beautiful woman who I can’t wait to meet that I’m excited about. We have exchanged so many pages of DMs and when she called me on Tuesday she had me laughing with her irreverence and it was such an easy conversation. I wish that she wasn’t, at present, in a time zone 9-hours different than mine; however, I am so excited to meet her and begin to explore what we seem to be building. She swears to me that she’s worth the wait. 🥺
For someone who has never fought with a romantic partner, last night was off the chain.
Not that it’s new to me.
Women and even my ex-husband a couple of times when he’d been drinking cuss at me and flip out.
It’s because I showed some other people that TikTok to see if it was mean. The consensus was that it was passive aggressive. She swears it was because she and I beat the odds.
I asked her how’s that?
I asked about the ultimatum. I said it was a veto.
I told her that she wants to offshore me for sex, which is dangerous and will result in STIs for me as women who are sleeping with tons of women are not exactly practicing safer sex. I told her that it was empty. She told me that I’m incongruent. I said that I could’ve had sex on Wednesday and I don’t want to. I’m wanting two GFs and she’s hierarchical.
I told her that she has stuck her own “For Rent” Sign on my heart and no one can be there. It’s rented. I said that didn’t honor that my heart moves on it’s own as does another woman’s heart.
We didn’t land on anything.
She would only own that my thinking that I am an afterthought could be true.
She said that she will gladly take her spare free time back.
I guess that my feeling taken for granted is my “story line.”
I guess that my feeling hurt by that TikTok is projection.
The other stuff that we talked about was related to her “encouraging” me regarding that my 12-14 hour work days that include an activity sometimes in which I can’t see clients, because my clients don’t have transportation, but I still have to log those hours doing nothing being “fun.” After she explained her perspective on my having good jobs, I understood that. I told her that I don’t need any advice about work and going forward we could talk about it and I don’t want to text about it.
In fact, I don’t like texting with her much anyway. I haven’t in a really long time. She is sooooooo great in person and presents kind and sweet. That phone fight last night was awful and it did lay groundwork for today. I’m leaving for her apartment in just under an hour. It doesn’t feel great and is scary. I’m not a wimp though.
We’d be together a year on Monday, so I wrote out the anniversary card that I’d bought. I wrote in the last sentences that like I promised with her ring, every February can be made special and surprising as well as her birthday as long as she lives here. I can keep that promise.
I put my birthday gift to her (Her tradition is giving loved ones presents on one’s own birthday.), a dice game that she bought which is unopened, the journal that I’ve written in for her and her daughter daily since 1/1/25 (9/5/25 is the last entry), and her 52 questions that we’d planned to use in 2026 in a brown bag. I’ll leave it in the car until she’s done talking to me. Then I’m 95% that I’ll run down to the car, hand it to her and give her her keys back.
Tonight is about listening with compassion. We hashed everything out. It’s about my marching orders how she wants us to be moving forward.
I’d still like to see her for many days for the month of February. I’d still like to celebrate her birthday in July. I’d still like to teach her daughter to ride a bike. And none of these outcomes are up to me.
I dreamt about being late to my date today. I don’t know why I got coffee out before my date, but in the dream I did. I was in one of our older neighborhoods getting some coffee when the whole street got really crowded. I looked out to a suddenly busy street from the coffee shop window.
At home I make coffee and take the last two cups with me in thermos. In the dream, I wanted to be a couple miles away from the park where we’re meeting, so I ordered coffee in a shop. The crowds were teeming and then city police started closing streets. I finished my cup, and left the coffee shop.
I didn’t like the way that I was dressed. I didn’t have any makeup on either. I got to the car a couple of minutes before 11 and the GPS said it was 55-minutes in a car. I was incredulous. It would be faster to walk.
I got out of my car and started out on foot when police started diverting people off of the sidewalks. A couple of people and I wound up in an apartment. We turned directions and a couple said, “That’s a bedroom.” We shut the door, and walked back out to the street.
I ran back to my car and got in and was watching as water barricade barrels started being put up on the main street. I knew a side street that I could drive down and then I could make a whole bunch of turns and likely get to the park at about 11:25, so I was going to send ________ a text.
In the dream I was back in the coffee shop. My Mom was there and asked, “What is ________ looking for in a man?” I told her that I truthfully didn’t know. I also told her that I didn’t know her relationship history and her timeline with dating women. My Mom asked where I’d met her and I said that I’d interacted with her minimally and listened to her frequently in a women’s discussion group. I said that if I could get there anytime soon, I was looking forward to my date.
My Mom talked about how it was good that the date was this year. She told me that I wasn’t really ready to date anyone these past two years and now I have enough space away from my divorce.
My plan today is to take the dogs on a quick jaunt after I finish some more coffee. I’m pretty groggy. I’m going to go to the gym and lift weights. I usually get an adjustment after I lift, but I’m going to get those on Tuesday and Friday nights instead. After I get home from weights, I need to refill 9-gallons of water and buy coffee beans. When I get home I am going to shower, and get ready. I don’t know if I’ll have time to do any cleaning, and if I don’t, I’ll just head out to my date at 11:15.
I think that the main things in the dream that are realistic are that I’ve not gone on a date with someone who I don’t know in many years, and I don’t know much about her. Unlike the dream, traffic shouldn’t be a problem and I could realistically bike to the park. I’m wondering what it will be like today? I know it certainly won’t be so fragmenting like my dream.
The woman from group texted me last night. She’s good at writing small statements so that you’ll share more and asks good questions. She also texted several times, “Good question.” And then would answer me in longer paragraphs. I counted–because I like details–and she sent 60 texts.
We had a nice text connection. I’ll see her a week from today. She suggested Saturday night dinner. I wrote:
Very bold! What if I’m a hideous dinner companion? Then you’re stuck for two-hours…
Wanna take a walk Sunday before work? I love being outside… I would enjoy getting to know you better.
And I would. I love that she is smart, a mother of one, athletic, and straightforward. I’m looking forward to Sunday. She’s also just three-years younger than me, which is lovely. I like fellow Gen Xers.
One of her texts to me said:
That makes sense. I’ve never been drawn to strangers. I tend to go the opposite direction where I try to make deep attachments.
So I asked her if she was a water sign in the Chinese Zodiac. Of course she is. No other person from another element would say something like that about people.
My ex-husband and the woman who moved to FL, had to get a new liver, and with whom I was originally with in a polyamorous relationship share birthdays. They’re five-years apart to the day. I think that’s odd. I met him in a college theater club and I met her in a bar. I think that I am drawn to strangers. I get a feeling that I should talk to them 1-1.
They were both water signs.
I’m trying to think what’s important to me in terms of characteristics in someone with whom I am romantic.
Chemistry is a definite thing that I need. That comes from looks and ability to have engaging conversations. I like to laugh. I also can’t imagine being with someone who isn’t either an athlete or a dancer. She’s both.
I also loathe shitty hugs. In fact, I have a couple of friends who I won’t hug because of the half-assed, weird lean, and flutter pat on the back that they provide. I think that I’ll ask, “Are you ok with hugs?” when we meet initially next week for our walk. That will be good information.
I met her in our women’s group, and I don’t usually stay after group to chat. That’s largely because I don’t like groups of people unless there is a specific activity. After the discussion is over, I leave.
Honestly, I’m glad to have a date with a new woman. It’s also incredibly nice to have someone initiate interest in me. (I guess with the last two women who I’ve kissed since I’ve been divorced, both did initiate. I’ll have to consider that for future writing.)
My preference would be to be seeing 2-3 women and it would be really neat if a woman lived elsewhere. I like seeing new places and have only met up with a woman in a location when I was seeing the woman who moved to FL. Romantic get aways are fun.
I told her toward the end of three-hours of texting that I’m intentional. I don’t want to add any people to my life unless I enhance theirs. I like to be helpful, am direct, and a bit peculiar. I am looking forward to time with her in person next Sunday to see if we are meant to be friends or more.
I can have incredible conversations 1-1, but those don’t occur everyday unless I’m at work.
I belong to two discussion groups. One is co-ed and one is all women. I went to the former on Tuesday night.
I introduced myself and talked about my relationship journey and then I listened attentively to all the women. It was enlightening. At this group, which is held in a home of a friend, we eat potluck style. My friend did “Breakfast for Dinner” for a theme so I made hashbrowns. They didn’t last at all.
We ate and discussed questions. I only introduced myself, then I grabbed my cast iron skillet, and put on my shoes. I enjoyed the discussion and interaction, and didn’t have the “spirit move me” so as to introject anything. My friend came over and held me for a long time.
I got a text from her the following morning.
Hey, Lady. Thanks so much for coming. Your presence is always a nice welcome. Also, my friend, ________, told me last night that she is intrigued by you. I guess she has been the past two months, although not much conversation has occurred. I think she’s pretty, not sure if she’s your style or not. She was the one with the black cool glasses and was telling _____ about the blueprints book and how people get aroused differently.
We texted back and forth for awhile and I told her to give ________ my cell number, which she did.
Hopefully, ________ will text me and we can grab a beer or meet for a walk. If not, I’ll talk to her, 1-1, on September 25th if she comes to the group. Again, I don’t force anything and want to see what unfolds free from expectations and demands. Regardless, it’s nice when someone likes you!
I want to have my book in my hands in February so that I can give it to people who will read it to children. I’d like some free marketing from other mental health professionals and giving it away (25 copies) is a good effort. Otherwise, I’ll use my website and connect with other authors in the genre.
I think that the Carpenter and Batman are at Burning Man. Thinking about being there gives me anxiety. The dirt, the noise, bringing in water, and the smells.
My ex-wife and I went to tame bluegrass festival in 2019 and realized that we were too conservative for that crowd. Multiply it by ten, and I’m sure that is what Burning Man is like.
However, the former said that he would be building my shed in the summer. There are twenty-days left of summer when he is done with Burning Man. I’d imagine it’s a day or two to drive back, and then maybe 10-hours of sleep in a bed, which puts us at September 6th probably. That means that there’s 16-days left for building a shed in the summer because you train all fall. I’ve grown tired of taking my lawn mower out from under a tarp. I need a little shed on the concrete slab.
My catio took less than two days. It scares my son’s cat, so I’m going to buy fresh cat nip and get in there with all of them. They’ll get some positive associations with it. I’ll scatter treats too.
The company swept the entirety of my porch too. I felt like they were helping me. They left cedar scraps and a few longer pieces and a lot of sheet metal. These can be used for the shed.
I think with several trips to the lumber yard my former sister-in-law could make a shed in a week for me. If she didn’t work full-time, if she wasn’t a conservator on the probate initiation for her niece and nephew who are now orphaned, and if I would even ask her. Which I wouldn’t.
Will the Carpenter wind up building me a shed? I’m incredulous.
Now, let’s talk about Batman. She has worked on our book on 2/15, 6/26 and 8/7. She said that she’d get me a page 8/8 and I emailed about it on 8/15. My email went into the ether. The lack of consistent communication is annoying and is not the way that I roll. So, I’m interviewing illustrators that I would simply pay as a one time thing with no royalties going forward (flat rate for pages) starting in October.
My best friend asked me how long I would wait for communication. I said September 30th. I also will never contact her again. When I run into her, I’ll get a great hug. That’s it. That’s fine. I’ve always been a pragmatist.
Having a table in two-days and a catio within two-days has shown me that complex work can be completed. It just has to be a priority and follow a timeline. I don’t think that I can stomach being fifty and waiting around for people who don’t prioritize working with me.
AR got the table top done in two days. She is so incredibly efficient and kind. She mortared the bottom of it and used the black grout that she had.
The artist’s tiles are handmade so their edges aren’t uniform or do they follow a straight line
I love the way that it looks near the corner of my living room window. I’m so happy about it.
I gave her a $100 check so she can spend money on my son’s cousins when they’re there for my former sister-in-law’s celebration of life. Ironically, I’ll be in NYC that weekend for my 50th birthday.
I texted back and forth for awhile with the artist. He’d done a commission of my son’s cat last year. That work hangs in my entryway. We texted about possibilities. He was touched by the tabletop and said that he was making the whole thing more complicated. He also said that he might starting thinking about simple designs for tables. I hope that I get to see him in person on September 2nd.
I’m doing so much better since I started therapy. I am connected with my former family members and not getting enflamed by things that my son is doing. I am enjoying my house slowly, but surely. Getting this table done quickly has been encouraging.
I don’t have any original family. My brother was killed in 1988 by a drunk driver. My Dad died in 2020. My Mom died in 2021. I have my son, and he doesn’t live with me. I am a Solo.
When I was staging the house a year ago–how could that have only been a year ago?–I bought two items from the Thrift Store.
One was a heavy wrought iron side table with a wicker top. The other was a table just slightly higher with an almost square tiled top, but I don’t think that the legs are solid. It’s wrought iron too and easier to heft around. Not if you lay it on it’s side with other things in a small SUV. Anyway, LA accidentally broke the tile top on the table!
Broken top
I had been gifted a tile from one of my friends from the co-ed discussion group that I attend when I’m not bowling. I hadn’t hung it; although, it has a loop embedded in the back. As he’s the artist, I paid him $100 as a retainer after asking if he could arrange it with other tiles on the table top so I could use the table.
He told me a month later that he didn’t have the executive functioning skills to get it arranged and done. When I was picking the broken top up from him, the tile broke off in two pieces which was great. Now, I had the board, which fits the table.
I went to Design Center for contractors having spoken to one of the women who worked in the tile gallery. She had lunch leftover and I had a wonderful sandwich. She didn’t have any square tiles. However, she had two large tiles that were beautiful. They’re very heavy too. One of the designers couldn’t use these anymore as the manufacturer has discontinued the tile. I got them for free!
I started thinking about design
I figured that I would check out a tile saw from the non-profit that we have in our city. I was texting off and on with my former sister-in-law about my idea for a cool table top. I mentioned that I would be using the non-profit. Her wife said that the non-profit has shitty tools. She said that she had all the things that I would need, and she’d help me make a new table top.
I’ve had to store things in my basement for almost a month!
I went over to my former sister-in-law’s house late afternoon yesterday. I gave her a giant hug. I gave her file folders which had been stored in a filing cabinet that’s in the closet in my office. The files had drawings and pictures that had been labelled by my former mother-in-law.
She said, “That’s my mother’s handwriting.” I said, “It’s all _______’s.” I told her that it would be good things for her twin’s celebration of life next month too. There were pictures of all three sisters in those files. It was emotional.
We talked for half-an-hour while her wife was getting everything ready for the project. Then her wife was super hungry so we went to dim sum. I got to know her much better at dinner. I’d met her briefly in July of 2022 when she and my sister-in-law arrived at my house to move out all of my ex-wife’s possessions. Now, I know her.
I’ll call her AR. She competent, direct, and quirky. She also is able to build and fix anything.
It was really late when we got back to their house. She started with a level and pencil. She found stored black grout. She’s making the top for me in exchange for dinner at dim sum. I’m not comfortable with that, so she’s also taking $100 and spending it on my son’s cousins. I may not be part of their family anymore, but I want their friendship and my son still considers all of them his family. Former or not, they’re wonderful humans.
It’s supposed to be one of the most stressful things. Now, that the painters are gone, I’m not feeling as much stress. However, the house is upside down.
I’d moved 13 times as a child so it’s been funny to be feeling as if I’m moving again.
I’ve lived in two different states in the Midwest when I was an undergraduate and for my first round of graduate school. During my higher education years, I moved only five times total across seven years.
My ex-husband and I moved to the state where I’m from and where I live today. After I’d finished my first graduate degree, he and I moved states and into an apartment. We lived with my parents for a month while we looked for an apartment. A year later moved into a townhouse while we worked with a realtor and then we bought this house. We lived here together for about 4-years, and he contributed to this mortgage for a year.
When I was with my ex who is an alcoholic, I was in FL about once a month. Sometimes I was gone 10-days so I felt like I was living partially in FL with her in her townhouse.
I’ve finally stopped physically moving.
However, it feels like I am, in fact, moving. I have gotten rid of a tall bookcase, three chest of drawers, a bulky end table, a nice futon and mattress, a lamp, a chrome island with a cutting board top, three high back oak bar stools, and lots of shelving. There are also many odds and ends that I’ve also let go of completely.
Now, I’m doing the work of getting kitchen items back into cupboards. If there are some items that I’ve not used in 3-years, they’re going to the thrift store. I don’t want to store things in precious cupboard space.
It’s really dirty too. Moving always is, and I’d forgotten that. I have been going through tons of dust rags and wiping grease out of corners of my freshly painted cabinets. One of the latter swelled shut and pulled off some paint. I’ll have to patch that area before I put new bumpers on all the cabinets.
I’m not sure when I’ll be done, but I’m glad that LA is coming over this morning to help me hang more art. This move is likely the last one that I’ll do unless I wind up in a hospital or some rehabilitative care.
It’s starting to get really, really old. I told the Crew Boss for painting that Thursday is the final day ever and that there are no more days for my kitchen. I had to tell them the same thing about Wednesday, the 31st, because all the painting was dragging out and I had to get furniture upstairs again. I was being driven mad.
I think that I also have to consider that July has been bizarre. I found on the 6th that my former sister-in-law was murdered. My Aunt died on the 27th; although, we knew May 3rd that given she wasn’t seeking treatment, that was a foregone conclusion.
Anyway, with these deaths, it makes living like this very difficult. This:
It’s like moving into a place that you can’t move into because there aren’t rooms that you can use. I have trouble cooking which is my daily therapy because I have to go downstairs to get skillets and the like. I also have dust and shards of paint everywhere.
Brookyln is coming over this morning to help me hang artwork in new and fresh places. She’s also going to give me feedback about arrangements. I haven’t had her over at my house in years.
That will definitely help. It’s like a barren environment here.
I told LA that she was a bad friend for not renting me a large airstream for the pets and I this month ;). I can’t wait for workers to not be at my house. I’m also excited for the end result and no longer living in a construction site.
At the beginning of May I got a text from my aunt who lived at my parents’ house April of 2020 through mid-December of 2021 which said that my Mom’s only brother’s wife (my Aunt by marriage) had Stage 4 Brain and Lung Cancer and wouldn’t be seeking treatment. In the text it said that I was only to go through her and not anyone else. That felt weird so I said that I would send a message to my other cousin through FB because I had communication with her there and she freaked out. I get it. She’s 70 and thinks that people can read private messages.
I called her and she was so upset that she spent most of our conversation yelling at me. That’s about her and isn’t about me. She’s about the same right now and really negative so I’m not talking to her or communicating with her much. I never had noticed how much unsolicited advice that she gives either until this time.
She called me Saturday afternoon and I was in a coffee shop.
I was at a coffee shop because my house is still tented, plastic is everywhere and the rooms are either barren or have odd things around such as ladders, equipment and I don’t have faces on many of my cabinets as repainting those is a whole 3-day process that the project manager has described as “tedious.” I was taking space from this disorder in a local coffee shop.
When my Aunt called I said, “Hi, I’m in a coffee shop and I’ll have to go outside,” and then when I walked outside and put my cell back to my ear she was still talking. She then said, “I’m not sure that I’m supposed to tell you but Aunt _______ passed away this afternoon,” and I said, “Thank you for letting me know, I’ll text ________.” She told me don’t call until tomorrow. I said, “Ok, thanks for letting me know.” She talked about my not calling or getting into contact with my cousins today some more and I just listened to her prattle and didn’t say anything because she’s been on edge and prone to yelling. I know it’s stress, but I can avoid being the recipient of her mismanagement of it.
I texted my cousin and she and I exchanged texts afternoon and evening on Saturday. My other cousin, who I recently had breakfast with when she was here for an appointment with her daughter, texted me too.
It’s going to be really rough, but I’ll drive approximately 5-hours before the sun comes up on Thursday morning to attend my Aunt’s wake and funeral. I’m driving back around 1 pm or so because I don’t want to be away from my house or pets. Luckily, my neighbors are feeding (both meals) and tending to my pets a few times on Thursday.
I’m loyal to this Aunt. She has put flowers on my brother’s grave for years. This uncle, who is my Mom’s only brother and was married to my Aunt, drove my brother’s body to this area where my mother’s family was born and farmed. He got my brother’s body to the church and he’s buried near my Grandfather who I adored.
They’re good people and I’m proud to have them as my family.
When my mother died, my son, my then wife, the Aunt who took care of my parents’ house, my Uncle (mother’s brother) and my cousin and I conducted a short graveside service at my brother’s and grandfather’s grave for my parents. We spread ashes of my parents’ on those graves. Doves landed on the wires and sang songs. It was nice and simple.
I’m really glad to be there for this cousin on Thursday to be part of rituals for the loss of her mother. Sadly, her mother was my cousin’s self-described “person,” and from what I’ve gathered via text was her touchstone. This loss will be incredibly difficult for her. Like me, she has one brother, and I’ve not seen him in nearly 30-years. It will be nice to see him; although, that our connection is at his mother’s funeral is sad. His sister is a gem and wrote to my mother for years. There were times that my mother received her letters when she was in the facility too. Again, they’re wonderful family members.
I went to kickball last night and had a good time connecting with my team. I didn’t go play flip cup, because I don’t want to drink very much while I’m processing the murder in the acute stage. I also have my feelings with regards to not being in my previous family anymore.
I’ve gotten so many of my friends and also my family members to donate to the fund for her orphaned children that she leaves behind. I think that I’m doing as well as I possibly can with processing this event and what it means in my life given that I am not involved with my ex-wife’s family anymore. I’m feeling better with regards to this tragedy.
I’m not Zen about my house. How do people live in a house while it’s being painted without going over the edge?
It’s really hard to live with tented furniture that was limited anyway. I’d only left my bed, my dining area table, and the desk and it’s wires. Yesterday, because the floors were taped, plastic-covered and papered, I felt like I was living in “ET” when the hazmat scientists start to study the creature.
So, I had a lapse in judgement. I didn’t pay too much. Well, a bit.
I bruise easily. However, these are pretty bad. If I knew where my oral arnica was, I’d take it, but things are piled in linen closet and other places so most things are blocked, and I only know where my topical arnica is. I applied it, but I imagine that I’ll look bad for a week or so.
I’m reading “Where Men Win Glory,” and it’s great. Last night after kickball, feeding my pets, and walking my dogs I wanted to read in a chair. Not in my dining area, but in a chair. I wanted to get a fabric chair upstairs from the basement. I have a staircase and a baby gate that is retractable at the top of my stairs.
Best laid plans…
I got the ottoman for the chair upstairs fairly swiftly and slunk around the ladder, the staging area, and traipsed through the paper and plastic that my dogs and cats have dug up and moved around, but the chair that goes with my ottoman is an entirely different story.
I got it out of the hoarder piles and around my upturned loveseat and existing table in my basement. Recall if you’ve read previous entries that movers emptied my upstairs so my basement isn’t usable. It’s like a Jenga Tower which has fallen.
I moved the chair around stacks of boxes and such and then got it to the base of my staircase. I thought that inverted and pulling it up each stair was good. I got it up all the stairs. Then it got caught on one of the plastic hooks on my gate.
I needed a Phillips Head Screwdriver, but those were in the laundry room closet. All of my large storing and my laundry machines are downstairs. Downstairs was blocked.
I was sweating so badly. Although the chair is fabric, it was really difficult to get it back downstairs because plastic tenting kept attacking me in my stairwell. It would stick to me too or would trip me. I imprisoned my shoe under the chair and almost fell until I shimmied the shoe off under the chair. It was now 8:30 and I’d done cardio with my son, ran errands, kicked, ran and scored two runs in kickball. I was a sweaty and angry mess.
I texted my neighbors who are like family to me. They said that I could borrow a screwdriver. I got the clip off without breaking it. The screws were really long. I made a mental note to use my electric screwdriver when I was no longer blocked out of my basement and could get tools. I pushed the chair all the way back down and removed the gate clip and it was really hard.
I went back downstairs and realized that I would have to slide the chair sideways with the legs toward the banister. That worked until I had to hoist under it from the top of my stairs. Heaving and hoeing finally got it upstairs and I got it into the corner by my living room window and successfully avoiding buckets of paint and a ladder.
I still couldn’t read though.
Now, I had to screw back the gate clips. Well, the screwdriver was set to left. I unscrewed my work and nearly fell backward. Then it was too big for the screwhead. I got the other one that we have and discovered that the nut is missing to attach non-drill pieces. That was something that my son was famous for during his whole life. He would take things out of my tools and they wound up in the _______ chasm of loss. My drill isn’t usable as a screwdriver anymore and the other electric screwdriver is too big for very small screw heads.
Finally, I just screwed them in by hand enough so that the top of the gate was somewhat secure and read for an hour in the damn chair! I have the bruises to prove it.
It’s been helpful to tell the story about my former sister-in-law’s murder to people who care about me or love me. I also completed an intake with my department’s employee assistance program last week and they’ve matched me with a therapist who can provide Eye Movement Reprocessing Desensitization (EMDR). I was able to sing with friends last night too, which was lovely.
EMDR uses techniques to engage both sides of your body with noise, light, your hands, etc. and the therapist has you talk about what happened and then you feel your feelings about the event or events. I know that sounds trite. “Feel your feelings.” However, people are more likely to numb with alcohol or drugs or play hours of video games. They also may sleep or read for hours shutting out the world instead of thinking about the event. Some people don’t remember the event at all!
In EMDR the therapist or clinician also takes about your safety and coping in initial sessions with resourcing for you. That way, if you’re really triggered about the event, you have something that you can rely on in the session and after the session is completed. I’m looking forward to it.
In another entry I’d written about the appeal that I have with theater, music, and movement for trauma treatment. Well, last night we had one of our singalongs that we do at my best friend’s house. My Boss came as well. We also had a man there with a thick accent that sounded like Arabic or was influenced by languages in the middle east. However, he said his name in Polish, so I’m not sure where he is from or how many languages he speaks. I would imagine it’s three or more.
He could play a box drum and later in the night he played a tambourine. It was very cool. He didn’t sing and called himself a percussionist. We had two ukuleles as well. My best friend played two songs on the guitar, but mostly played her ukulele. I have no idea where my guitar is! I’ll be living like this in my house through Monday night because of the painting.
We sing by request from the group. I learned a new song that was in my head this morning when I woke up. It was sweet and fun.
There was this time when we were singing and playing “Greatest Love of All” that I started to cry a bit. No one noticed and I was able to quickly stop. I was thinking about in 2021 when my sister-in-law got out her guitar and was playing songs and her kids were sitting with her on the floor. My son was listening, and my wife was singing some. I didn’t sing, but was so impressed with her playing. She could remember without any music so many songs and then later she got out some music from her closet and sang more.
My brother-in-law was hovering and going in and out of the room. Finally he started complaining about “bedtime.” It was the only time that I heard my sister-in-law use a curt tone with him. She said that she didn’t know how many more songs that she would be playing, but it would be a few. He stomped off.
I’m looking forward to starting therapy on Tuesday. Music last night was healing too. I want to be functioning better than I am right now in two weeks. However, I am so lucky to have resources and friendships as I work through this event.
Yesterday the cleaning woman came and washed walls and baseboards. I’m going to go back over a few areas with a carwash microfiber and rag soaked in alcohol after I walk the dogs. They paint and redo the cabinets today. The movers come back tomorrow.
I’m letting things go and moving things around.
Desk #1 belonged to my maternal grandfather. It has an ancient Co-Op Calendar taped in it from 1912. It was probably made in the late 1800s. It’s going in the spare bedroom.
Desk #2 belonged to my paternal grandmother. It has two drawers and one pullout desk. It’s probably from the 70s, but I like it. It’s going in my room for my clock. Yes, I like a digital clock and don’t sleep with my cell phone around me at all regardless of Airplane Mode.
The sofa table is going behind the long couch in front of the window. It used to be in my bedroom where Desk #2 is going.
Dresser #1 belonged to Indianapolis _____. He’s referred to this way because my son had a stepbrother figure with the same name for about 6-months. My ex-husband has had two serious girlfriends in 17-years. The former _____ moved, sadly, with his Moms when my son was two-and-a-half. His dresser remains and my ex-wife repainted it and it looks funky. I don’t want any dressers. It’s going to be donated.
Dresser #2 was my Mom’s. It’s cool. It’s made of heavy old wood and has three long drawers. I need to get it to the non-profit recycler, but don’t know how. I’m not sentimental. I do remember her having probably 20 plants on top of it when I was 19 all the way through when she went into a nursing home. Both my parents had green thumbs.
I will have a sundried tomato accent wall. It used to be a deep maroon, but I don’t have the special paint anymore, so it will be sundried tomato now and the hutch won’t go there anymore. It’s going across the living room to where the piano used to be. LA has the piano.
My former mother-in-law gave us an armoire. It’s red. I like it. I don’t like it near the dining area. It’s going in the kitchen across from the pantry. That will be a tight walkway, but I’m letting my hanging spice racks go and probably not rehanging the black floating shelves. After removing both the spice racks and the shelves, I realized that they never really stay clean and oil, spices and vinegar needs to be out of sight.
There is a five shelf particle board bookshelf outside for the city trash folks to pick up today. I am doing a professional book purge. I have two graduate degrees. The first one was 74 hours and the second one was 85 hours and terminated in a doctoral degree. I have a lot of professional books, but don’t use all of them. The said bookshelf also held test kits. I’m not sure what to do with those, but will likely go through my office closet and store them and a few books that I still reference for reports there. I don’t want anything in my office anymore with the exception of the crate for my ex-wife’s dog, and will put back up the window perch for my cats. I’ll still work at the desk here where the main modem is.
The headboard is going!
The daybed will be under the window that you see as you walk down the hall toward mine and the spare bedroom.
I’m starting to think that this house is mine. I won’t have any energy here with the exception of my own upstairs and then I can go through the basement and store my son’s things thoughtfully. This paint is a renewal.
Yesterday the movers were here and basically emptied the upstairs. Even the echoing of my typing is wild in my office. An empty house is weird, and I should be used to things looking like this as I moved 13 times as a child. Unfortunately, in this room–my office–they’ll have to work around cords and get behind the desk which has been pushed away from the wall.
Downstairs is alarming. It looks like a hoarder’s paradise. The scheduler for the moving company said that her crews are Tetris experts, but it is really very strange. I can’t really walk in there and I don’t even want to get my cell phone charger this morning, but if I could slink around last night to put the cats to sleep, I can do anything! Part of me didn’t want to give the cats their Greenies and leave them down there last night to sleep. They were perfectly fine this morning.
I have to take hooks, anchors, picture hangers, the cat perch, the window perch and shelving that is wall mounted down after I blog and walk the dogs.
The hair is another story.
When the cleaning crew comes today to wash the ceilings and walls, I have to say that I’m properly embarrassed about all the pet hair. How long have corners and some parts of walls, where the hutch was for example, been this way? Who lives like this?
I told a friend on the phone yesterday that now I know why people travel when their house is getting painted. It’s a whole process. The movers came yesterday, the cleaning crew and cabinet crew come today, the house is painted on Thursday, and Friday the movers come back. It will be August 1st before art is hung and furniture is rearranged too. I don’t trust myself to do this process alone. I’m so glad that I have Brooklyn. She likes hanging art and is going to be brutally honest with me with regards to what I should get rid of and where furniture and the like should go. I’m looking forward to having a freshly painted house; although, the hair that I’d been living in is gross.
I’ve been connecting with some women who are in my far away friends circle via phone. Our lives just don’t intertwine, and I’m personally more apt to make myself do things than I am to go hang out with people frequently. I don’t mind if there’s an activity, purpose or meal, but otherwise, I can’t just hang out.
There were times with my ex-wife’s family that I felt like I was going to crawl out of my skin just sitting around talking for hours. I would get up to take a walk, and often be asked what I was doing and then folks would say, “Wait a minute, I’m going to join you.” I guess that was mostly fine, because at least I was with people doing something.
I have a birthday twin. Except for both liking polysyllabic words and details, we couldn’t be more different. Come to think of it, I don’t know her moon or ascendant… Likely that explains some of our differences. Anyway, she was biking to her favorite coffee shop midway through last month and hit gravel. Unfortunately, she went over her handlebars. She broke her nose, had road rash on her face and broke her radius badly.
What do people who are single do when they have medical appointments?
Their friends take them to the appointments.
I’ve found too that friends are way less resentful about hustling for you when they don’t have to. A spouse has to be involved with you constantly according to societal norms. They’re also expected to take you to medical appointments when you’re injured.
I had a very strange week last week and talked to many people who I hadn’t really spoken with much in years. Some of them are newly single, some have almost always been single, and others are those who have been coupled with various people during the tenure of our friendship. It’s interesting to me that being coupled is the norm and being single is somehow seen as isolated or at the very least unconventional.
Do you have single friends? What is the percentage of your life that you’ve spent single since you graduated from high school? Are their drawbacks to having a live in partner or being married?
In 2021, we three went to visit my wife’s family. I said that we would be staying in a hotel room because although we were welcome at my mother-in-law’s, I had never liked my brother-in-law who also lived there at the time. He lived there on a small amount of rent, had the upstairs with his other three family members, and still bitched about my mother-in-law and her boyfriend all the time. My mother-in-law and her boyfriend, who owned that beautiful house, were doing much of the childcare and my mother-in-law also cooked the meals for all of six of them for over a year when their daughter was born. They already had one son.
It was mostly an ok trip until the last day before we were to begin our drive home.
We started out the day with my sister-in-law having to work; although we had a hike of a wild cave planned that morning. Because she worked in the solar industry, my son expressed interest in it and she took him to work with her. He helped her with some of the installation and learned a ton, and they listened to Nirvana and Pearl Jam, which blew his 15-year-old mind.
My wife and I did this incredible hike together while they were at the house installing some solar hook-ups. It was a nice way to wait for her to be done working. I was grateful that my sister-in-law took my son to work.
After she and my son were done with the installation, and they were heading back to pick us up at the trailhead where she’d dropped my wife and I off. We all went back to my mother-in-law’s to pick up her two kids for our exploration of a wild cave. Unfortunately, she got a call from the homeowner who said that her streaming service and internet was not working. My sister-in-law explained how to hook it up again, but they didn’t want to work on it. She ultimately had to go back all the way out to their house, so we were delayed to leave for our wild cave hike.
I was starving. I looked in the fridge and asked my mother-in-law if I could have two of the cooked eggs in there because she was making muffins for the road for my sister-in-law and us for our drive back. The kitchen was busy. My sister-in-law and her family were going to San Diego the next day for a few days, and as I’d said, we were beginning our drive back home that day as well.
They were special eggs. They were cooked and then cold water cooled. Not soft boiled, but not hard boiled either. They were my special-brother-in-law-eggs. My mother-in-law said that after she was done with the muffins she’d make two exactly how my brother-in-law liked them as he would be taking them to San Diego. She was making those muffins for us (her daughter’s family) and them (her other daughter’s family).
I ate two, and then we all sat around on our phones waiting for my sister-in-law to get back from the homeowners where she only had to turn on a switch.
My brother-in-law came home and said, “Oh, nice. Everybody is on their damn phones.”
I said, “I’m paying a new premium for my bundled car and home policy and had something time sensitive.”
And he scoffed.
I thought to myself, “Why should an adult have to explain what an adult is doing on a phone?”
Then the missing eggs were discovered. He said, “What the fuck!” He started slamming cabinet doors and said, “This kitchen is a mess!”
My mother-in-law said that after she was done with the muffins she was replacing those two eggs and told me that I could have them. I should point out that my sister and brother-in-law had chickens.
Then, the freakshow ensued. He was screaming and yelling and saying fuck more times than anyone could count.
I left and got in my wife’s car and went to Safeway. My mother in law called me when I was at Safeway and asked me to pick up vanilla ice cream for her cobbler. I bought that and the eggs and came back to the house.
My sister-in-law and my brother-in-law were arguing in the driveway. After awhile he came over the car where I was parked two houses away and he said, “I didn’t know everyone is so sensitive!”
I said, “______, you’re in the wrong. You flipped out over two eggs that would be replaced. They will be and I bought you a dozen new ones. He said, “Well, I’m sorry.” I said, “Ok, I hope that you have some rest when you get to San Diego.”
We explored the wild cave only us three.
Wild and scary cave.
I guess that my telling everyone that I was raised by someone who raged and flew off the handle all the time and wouldn’t be around it or that behavior ever again was a catalyst. Within a few weeks of that day they had a family meeting. Within a few months they would move back to their house that they owned. My mother-in-law still helped with her grandkids all the time. I’ll never forget her telling me that night when we had cobbler at our hotel, “That is between them. I don’t understand her choice in a spouse.”
The following winter they moved. They had to complete some renovations on their old home before settling back there with their two kids. They lived there about two-years.
He murdered her there last month.
I have cried off and on all day. I texted my ex-wife in the late afternoon. It said that my son said that he’d spoken with her. I asked if she was all talked out and said that if she wasn’t, I’d listen. I talked to her for well over two hours. I had not spoken to her in 25-months.
I feel empty, depleted, and I hope that narcissist rots in hell.
Left behind are two orphaned children. I can’t believe that my sister-in-law is gone. She was funny, active and took me on some wonderful hikes. She played Nintendo with me in my basement before she had her kids. She could play guitar and was always up for anything. I’ll never laugh with her again or go on an adventure. My son never had the opportunity to learn from her again.
I’ll leave you with one of the last texts that I received from her “I’m glad that I got to spend some time getting to know ___ a little more too when you guys came out. His interests remind me a lot of my teenage years too. 🙂 We’re moving out of this house in a few months so I’ll have a chance to look at some of my old stuff I saved. If I see anything he might like I’ll save it for him. 🤠”
I’m having such a better year so far. When I think back on my holiday weekend last year, I was depressed and lonely. I’m so glad to be two-years away from my divorce and am feeling connected closely to people. Sometimes when you’re married, you’re less connected to your friends when you’re not careful about how you invest your time.
Vacation versus work: I’ve been off of work one month tomorrow. The current class that I’m teaching requires me to only check email so far. I did teach once, but because the class was optional, only six students showed up (21 students). I’ll take it though, because last fall I had 26 students in the same class and my pay was messed up until October and my supervising professor somehow had an oversight and didn’t completely address the issue of my pay until January! So, collecting a nice paycheck for checking email this summer is completely fine by me. Things will go back to the work tunnel on August 9th. That class will ramp up too because students will be in sites.
Thursday: I went to a BBQ at the house of the woman who leads our women’s discussion group. I had a great time talking to her husband. I brought a tossed salad and grilled some corn kernels that I never would have eaten with scallions, granulated garlic and Mexican spices. I did it on the Weber, which is always fun. I got to know much better the woman’s husband and I also met her boyfriend. I had a nice time connecting at the party. I had to get home though before dark because my dog gets really scared with fireworks.
Cooking on my Weber for my 40th bday party (almost 10-years ago)
Friday: Yesterday we went to happy hour for some appetizers and then I was late to karaoke. I was embarrassed later, but had lost track of time. I was having a good time talking with LA, a woman from my bowling team, and the Realtor. It was really nice to see the latter. I’m glad that we are comfy around each other. I had a nice time and sang one song the best that I ever had. Singing and hanging out together is so nice.
Today I have to help LA get her car. It’s in front of my neighbor’s house. They’re like family to me, and I hope that they don’t mind having a car in front of their home. I had driven LA to the venue where we sang karaoke and then drove her all the way home. I’m going to pick her up and bring her to my house too. It’s the least that I can do, and she was gracious and came all the way to pick me up Christmas Eve when I was T-boned. I’d have been sitting alone in my house on that holiday without her.
This afternoon, I’m picking up my friend who I didn’t know if I was going to date to take her to my friend’s house for a little snack before we go to a drumming circle and band for an alternative 4th of July activity. My friend is just three-months younger than my friend that I just met for Happy Hour last month. This particular friend is married to a woman who is ten-years-older than her. So, I’ll be a junior for once. Last night, although LA is a year and some change older than me, I seemed like the eldest. And I was for the most part, because members of my kickball team who were at karaoke on time are 14 to 26-years younger than me! I’m grateful to have all of these plans with friends over this holiday weekend and think it’s interesting that I have friends of all different ages.
What are the ages of your closest friends? Do you have friends who span different age ranges? What did you do that was special for this holiday weekend with friends or family?
We had our first game last night on summer bowling league. Sadly, I averaged 117, but I do think that I can bring things up to 130 or more for averages next week. I love hanging out with these three women. We connect and encourage each other and laugh so hard.
I can’t remember the last time that I slept this well. I have just switched doctors and can see her on October 2nd when my super expensive insurance kicks in. I have been waking up once in the middle of the night for probably 6-months and am having other new and lovely middle aged things like a weird fanny pack below my navel, aching hips for no reason, and have had two times after exercising felt like I’m going to faint. I assume it’s time for a cocktail of progesterone and estrogen.
I woke up just before six and felt so cozy. So, I stayed in bed, slept another hour and had another dream cycle. It apparently finally rained down here. It had been raining the in mountains and not getting down here. It’s cool and partly cloudy.
I bought a domain yesterday and started playing with pages a tiny bit. I’ll finish the text draft of the book today too. I feel so rested and loved this cozy morning.
What can fuel your productivity? How do you best create?
The first time that I went to the women’s discussion group, I met my friend’s husband’s Mom. She attended it and when I found out who she was the next time that I attended group, I thought, “I can’t believe how supportive she is of her son and the life of him and his family members.” It’s one thing to support orientation and it’s quite another to sit in a group as an ally. She is very cool and she likes my salads, so she’s getting that on the 18th for group! She’ll be in town in a couple of weeks.
I was grateful that when my Dad died and my Mom wanted to get home, but was probably never going to get there, that her youngest sister stayed in their house. She visited my Mom every week too when my Mom was still in assisted living and was declining. I talked a lot with my aunt then. We used to go swimming together at my wife’s condo as a family and had her over for dinner several times too. My Mom’s last outing was at my house for Thanksgiving with my Aunt and my family. My wife had just gotten out of a short psychiatric placement the night before. I wouldn’t want to relive very many moments from 2014 forward.
I liked that my Aunt supported. I appreciated all that she did for my mother after my Dad died and always thanked her. She moved out of state at the end of 2021, and has visited a handful of times in 2022 and 2023. I don’t want her to visit me again.
She asked how my son is and I was honest. He’s not working. He failed a class. He took a leave of absence from school and is restarting the program midway through next month. He can’t give me a straight answer with regards to how many clinical rotations he needs. He’s morbidly obese. His current gf is controlling and hasn’t been a good influence on him. I don’t see evidence of him trying to address his mental health.
I talk to my aunt once monthly on the phone. She is a link to my Mom. On Thursday, we spoke.
I told her that his father’s lease is up on Halloween and I don’t know if our son will have a driver’s license then and don’t think that he’ll be done with school. I told her that he can live with me in November and December and then has to move on.
She unloaded on me. She said that my ex-husband and I are enablers. She said that we are like her daughter’s friend’s parent’s who have 40-year-olds living at home.
With all due respect, I didn’t ask for advice.
You also sound really misinformed when you compare the brain of an 18-year-old to that of a 40-year-old.
My Aunt believes that because my son wasn’t out on his own when he was 17 and graduated that he won’t be different at 25.
I know that my aunt is 20-years older than me. However, she’s super critical and very religious and says things about people all the time. I know enough to realize that if people talk about others in a judgmental way that they’re also following suit with you.
My son will turn 19 at the end of January, and because he doesn’t have much motivation, he’ll have to learn lots of things through error because he can’t live with either one of us after December 31st. I don’t want him here because he doesn’t help, is always on his phone, and hasn’t learned how to contribute yet. He also has a tendency to yell or say demeaning things when he’s asked to help with something, or has to complete something that he didn’t want to do. His Dad is moving in with a gf which is very good because he hasn’t lived with me in almost 17-years. I don’t want to live with anyone. I also don’t want to engage with my aunt anymore. I’ll call her once in July.
I will have to see her face to face sometime soon. My Uncle, who is my Mom’s only brother, is losing his wife to cancer. She’s a non-biological aunt. She has a goal to die in August. I think that she has really rough days. I know that my Aunt helps them out a ton. She operates in a binary and has a dichotomy of saying “God’s plan,” all the time and then losing it other times. She has a tendency to bury strong emotion so it makes her critical, and frankly, explosive, at other times. I’ll have to see her at the funeral, and I’ll also have to find another house and pet sitter at that point too because my son will be with me.
Friday: I met with my friend on Friday at a new brewery to us wherein we had chips, queso, wings and carrots, and then our own individual entrees. She has only a private practice and has built it so as to only work Tuesday through Thursday. You can read about her here. We had fun, good fare, and I’ll see her again with my friend for the 4th of July.
I talked to my ex on the phone on Friday night. You can read about her here. She is super smart, works in higher ed too, and is generally fun to talk to. She now says that she’s going to live to be 85. When she had first had treatment, she said that she had ten-years. We had a nice conversation and the only things that she did which were passive aggressive is say, “You were here and you didn’t see me?” and “Well, we all know that you’ll never leave [my home state].” First off, I do solo vacations in June. Me. That’s it. And, secondly, why would I have moved my kid, go back to court, and leave my house and jobs. And, why do you care, because you’re happily married! Regardless, we had a lovely conversation and I’m glad that she is in good health and no longer drinking.
Saturday: Today is beautiful here. It’s in the 70s and I’ve already done some yard work and worked on our book.
Sunday Plans: Tomorrow, the author and I will hike 4-7 miles. I have to give her broken table top and a tile that her metamour gifted me. He had completed a commission of my cat, and said that a tile of a butterfly and wildflowers fell from his wall and wanted to be with me. Now, I want it in the broken table top that he’s redesigning. When I staged the house last August, I bought a few things at the thrift store. One piece was a wrought iron side table with a tile top. LA broke it moving it in her car. I’d like the gifted tile in it along with other tiles in a design. The author’s metamour is a very good artist and is excited for this next project.
I am getting my house completely fixed up. Next month, there will be only two accent walls, white cabinets, fixed walls (You can reason the for drywall being weird in the insulation section here.), and my whole house with the exception of my doors will be painted. I’m replacing doorknobs and then will probably paint all my doors by myself. First, I don’t want these gross 80s gold doorknobs before painting happens! I’m getting a custom shed built by the carpenter and am buying and having built a catio. My backyard will be an oasis after I have skylights and new lighting in my patio. I have to get a new hot water heater and that should have a floor drain next to it, so that will be noisy work, but will make things safe here after I’ve updated all my electric. The last thing is faux hardwoods in the basement which are marine grade. I need to get rid of the carpet down there. Then, I’m set.
Weekends are so good and they’re even better when I have so few responsibilities and am mostly on vacation. Here’s to teaching one class! I’m having a good weekend. I have been with friends and am making my space homey. What are you doing this summer to fuel yourself?
The climber spent a couple of hours with me yesterday and we added a final scene with a crone type of character who had appeared in the book at a turning point in our story. She sketched five different scenes and I started numbering the existing storyboards. She’s going to show me more work on the 31st of July. She’s out of town climbing in Canada for a couple of weeks.
We had twenty existing pages, and I think that we’re up to 26 now. So, I’ll need to write out full narratives rather what is in the storyboards that simply illustrates plot advancements in a comic book style. It also includes my poor drawings. I should’ve taken a picture of her drawings for our book in her sketchbook. I’ll write over the next few days, which will be easy now because she called working together “inspiring,” and I reflected later and would term it “energizing” for me personally.
She looked beautiful. She had on a close fitting one piece sleeveless jumper with a plunging neckline. I had never seen her in anything low cut before or anything nearly as feminine. It was a little distracting to watch her draw at my dining area table especially when she was leaned against it.
We had an intimate dynamic yesterday. Just greeting and exiting long hugs; however, we talked about personal things when we made conversation.
I learned that she and her ex-husband were together for 16-years in total and that they read to each other every night.
The climber paged through her book and showed me some beautiful things that she had drawn. She is such a good artist. Although she had outlined sketches yesterday, I’m excited to see full pages when we meet yet as I had a point of comparison now seeing her work in the small sketchbook. I asked her if she’s always drawn. She has. I have always written.
There hasn’t been a day in 16-years that I’ve not written something. I certainly have not blogged everyday, but I have written notes, letters, emails, journal entries and the like. It’s interesting now for me to have a full story to tell and complete. I have a muse-filled momentum right now.
I was thinking this morning when I got up to tend to the pets that we all tell ourselves stories. Stories about why our lives are going the way that they are, and stories about other people. I think that feedback about those stories that are internal is important. The feedback helps us evolve.
For our book, it’s different. I need to have it in full draft form and read it to some kids before I take the next step for publication. I’m glad that we she and I have a commitment to monthly work on it too, because it keeps a timeline. For me, it was the conversation about the plot of the book that was most important when working with her yesterday. Although writing is a solo task, I think that I write better when I have some collaboration and joint work. Also, being around her is always something that impacts me intellectually and in my body.
I’m late to come out. I didn’t until I was 33. I did have a gf in high school and another in college, and they were long term, but I wasn’t out and both women were probably heteroflexible and not fully bi. I started going to parades for Pride in 2008.
This weekend I had to tickets to a couple of DJs and a concert. I stayed out until nearly midnight. I was with a friend group and it was fun. I don’t dance, but did enjoy my Friday night.
On Saturday, I made a quiche and plated some salmon and avocado and went to a Pride Brunch. These women–a married couple–hosted Christmas too. I wound up grilling for them. I wasn’t hungry and was sun tired. When I got home around 1:30 or so, I ate and took a nap. Then I went to my other friends for their block party. I play kickball with these men–they’re married as well–and our other friend showed up too. We walked to go to karaoke. I love them. I had a great evening.
On Sunday, I went to the Pride parade and the Realtor had gotten me VIP tickets so I had drinks, access to free food and some shade. Prior to the beginning of the parade, I saw the Mom, whom I didn’t recognize initially. She said my name and I said, “I’m sorry?” when she was hugging me. We talked for a little bit and I didn’t feel sparks. I was shocked that she remembered me as I’d emailed and texted her a few weeks apart. Who knows?
I watched most of the parade, but I got super hungry and just wound up walking to the main venue and finding the area for VIP ticket holders where there were shade umbrellas at tables. It didn’t matter though because it was in the mid-nineties, so I just went home around five. Pride was nice and I made friends with a lawyer and her friend or gf–I’m not sure–and talked with them. There was a really good drag performance too and the queen sang rather than lip synched. I went to dinner with my neighbors who are really like family members and then called it a night.
Did you celebrate Pride? If you’re an ally, did you acknowledge this weekend or this month in any particular way?
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