Fighting

There was a conversation that I had with my girlfriend after she had been hurt about my not telling a woman who was hitting on me that I had a girlfriend. I said that I don’t lead with that because it’s weird. She wanted to make sure that when we’re together, there are specific times that we don’t talk about other people at all. (However, she was doing that a little bit last night, but I wasn’t going to mention that. That kind of thing doesn’t make me feel jealous.) I need to be gentle and sensitive about my current outings and such. It will be interesting to navigate when I go out on more than a first date with another girl.

I am using this morning to write out what is hurting me.

I’d rather resolve it through working through conflict.

I’m not easy to fight with in general.

I have a memory like a bear trap.

In fact, bear trap is probably just a good way to describe fighting with an Enneagram 8.

She had told me that she was very sad to have not engaged in an adult Halloween activity with me. I knew that it was her favorite holiday, but she already had plans as it was. I told her that going forward I would check in with regards to what she wanted to do each holiday.

I told her that thinking on it, Thanksgiving was an important holiday to me.

We’d planned to go to a Tree Lighting just us three.

Her best friend came.

We had been texting back and forth a bit about Christmas a few weeks ago and she asked what my plans were. Then she said that she and her daughter were free Christmas Eve morning. I’d said that I’d make a quiche and we could hang out. She sent the rosy cheeks smiley face.

Except that’s not happening. She wants me to hang out at the pool at her best friend’s house. I told her that I’d do it.

However, when I took her home last night after the movie, she found out that swimming was 10-12.

I feel like an afterthought.

There will be no quiche. There will likely be not much of anything because she’ll have to rush home, get packed, and then see me and maybe my son for a second and then rush to my metamour’s for their plans and overnight.

I don’t like it. The plans have changed twice when we were going to hangout just us three.

My therapist isn’t seeing his clients until 1/6/25. I’m thinking that I won’t make an appointment with him anyway until the 20th…

How do you fight with a significant other? How do make sure that your words land well?

My Metamour

I had an impromptu dinner last night with the author. I told her all about my metamour. I really like him.

The author, who has two boyfriends, and a metamour who is one of her good friends said, “Tell me about your metamour.”

I said that he’s big, handsome and engaging. One of the things that I really liked best about him was that he and my girlfriend have many of the same mannerisms and also use the same expressions. They both consider things for a good period, nod and then say, “That’s fun.”

We’ve already exchanged emails. I want to teach him how to play frisbee golf, so I have to see which days he has off from work next week and the week after. (I played a lot of it when I was an undergrad.)

My girlfriend and he had built my girlfriend’s daughter’s playhouse that he’d gotten her for Christmas. She’ll wake up Christmas morning there and see it and it will be kept at his house. In many respects, he’s like a father to her; although, my girlfriend doesn’t agree.

On Thanksgiving, she had sent me this video of her daughter cackling while he picked her up into the air and was flipping her around. It was the sweetest video, and that is when I realized how much I wanted to know him.

My girlfriend said that she had to press him a whole bunch to ensure that he met me before Christmas.

We all went to the best Thai restaurant in our area on Wednesday night and talked. He paid and I said, “May I please get the tip?” and he gracefully accepted the cash. He’s from New England so he’s refined and has some almost feminine mannerisms, which are really just part of being from New England. Some of his manner is opposite of his large and muscular frame. He’s probably about 6’2″. He has twinkly blue eyes and is well-dressed and put together.

I’m not sure what their relationship will look like in the coming New Year. He’s moving in with his current girlfriend who also has a child. Her child is a preteen girl. I would imagine a lot of the features in their relationship will change.

I asked her if she’d ever remarry him and she said, “No.” They seem really good together and I think that both of them liked being married. I know that it’s complicated and obviously not on the table right now given that his girlfriend is moving in with him shortly.

I kept telling her that I needed to be his friend. Now, I know that I am. In fact, I’ll email him back on the 26th or 27th so I can see him and hangout solo. The weather is scary warm, so I’m sure that as long as it’s not windy we can play frisbee golf.

It’s interesting that the feelings of jealousy that I had prior are gone completely now. They were mostly related to my too quiet Thanksgiving and then hours alone. I wasn’t jealous of him. I was jealous of family. While I was lucky to have had Thanksgiving with my neighbors, they had a bustling one that was complete with boisterous cussing relatives.

I guess there could possibly be times when we had all three kids together at his place (my 19-year-old, her toddler and his girlfriend’s preteen). Maybe in the summer?

Regardless of what the future holds, I really like my metamour.

What does family mean to you? How do you do friendships? What do you think about adding people to your life?

Holiday

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?

Mom

I’ve been thinking about Mom and dreaming about her a lot lately. I’m reasonably sure that I know why.

I feel like that I’m having time to be and breathe. I’m sure, too, that given that it’s Easter this weekend, I am thinking about holidays without family.

Sunday, I have an invitation to friends, and I know that I’ve written here that I don’t say no to those, but I have been eating yogurt, eggs and canned soup and don’t want to be around yummy food and alcohol. I also don’t want to talk about the hole in my mouth with people whom I don’t really know. I’ve known this colleague for 24-years this fall, but she’s an extrovert’s extrovert, so loves to entertain and make small talk. LA always invites me to these things–she’s really close with this colleague–and I did go to the Blues BBQ (live band) and also Christmas Eve. I am not going to Easter. In fact, I’ll do yard work which is a lot like my Dad!

My Dad worked for the City and County. He’d dropped out of a Civil Engineering Program because my Mom had me and they had very little money and mice in the housing provided near campus via the GI bill. That was a contention. As was my ever being born. I had colic and my father always said that he was going to leave me screaming in the snow. Mom said that once I could imitate opera voices on the radio at about 4-months of age, I stopped screaming.

(I have said to my son ad nauseum, “You didn’t ask to be born. I will make sure that you have medical and dental care until you’re 26. I will also write a check for any tuition bill that you produce for me.” He has about 7k left in his ESA, so I’m going to set up a trust for 150k that I manage until he’s 30. I’m doing that in June. Trust me, this digression is topical.)

My Mom wanted kids. She said that my brother and I were the best things in her life.

She was sarcastic, a little mean, definitely depressed, and not quick with hugs or kisses, but always said, “I love you.” And she did love us.

We had no money. I really mean that too. My parents, both Boomers, were the last of the people who can buy a house on one salary. My Mom contributed off and on to living expenses, but never had a full-time teaching job likely because of her physical disability. She subbed for 4-5 years and would often come home with a migraine.

Today, I’m thinking about my Mom, the status of her teeth, her heavy smoking until she was in her 60s, and how much healthier and luckier than I am when compared to my Mom.

I was out in the backyard this morning giving my neighbor’s dogs and mine pieces of elk jerky, and my neighbor came out and asked about the hole. So, I have this screw and hole in my mouth right now. My neighbor will get her hole and screw in two-weeks.

We’ve been trying to figure out how her process is so much longer than mine. Her tooth broke eight-months ago. We figured it out today.

My Mom made sure that we went to the dentist every 6-months. She made sure that the weird tooth that came in sideways was addressed with a retainer. I have great teeth. So, it was easy for the dentist to drill it, pack it, help me make an appointment with a talented specialist, and I will see him five-days before I get a tooth colored crown. My parents were poor for sure–lower middle class, I guess–but we got good dental care.

My Mom didn’t support me going to graduate school. My Mom was mostly horrified about what others thought of her having a lesbian daughter. My Mom’s ashes that I have left could ignite given that I don’t want one partner and would never live with anyone ever again. However, my Mom loved and took care of me.

Tell me about your Mom. I don’t know you, so don’t worry, I am not impersonating Freud. Freud is mostly only good for defense mechanisms.

Angels

I was completing my second to last errand on the 23rd, and made a turn from a busy street onto a normally typical city trafficked street in a mostly commercial area of town. I was in the right lane and there was another car traveling in the same direction barely ahead of me in the left lane. Suddenly, there was a car heading across the lanes and I swerved, applied my brakes, but he still hit me. I pulled into the parking lot. He said, “Sorry, I didn’t think that I was ever going to make it across that street!” and then he went into a dispensary. I was disoriented and shaking. A woman in the large parking lot across the street started yelling at me. She and I tried to talk across four lanes of traffic and a turn lane as she was at the edge of the parking lot that the man had torn out of. Finally, I heard what she kept shouting, “He hit you!” It happened so fast and my vision of him was blocked until he was right there. There had been a car in the other lane traveling in the same direction that I was, so I couldn’t really process what had happened. I walked across the now busy street.

Her daughter had developmental disabilities. She was convinced that the driver was drunk. His face was really red when he was shouting at me. He was still in the dispensary. Because I couldn’t stop shaking, I called 911. She and I took pictures of each other’s licenses and she told me about the guy selling flowers. He was on the other corner of the parking lot with paint buckets of roses. He had been shouting too, and was upset by the guy hitting me as well as were this woman and her daughter. She kept telling me that she would be a witness and so would the man selling roses.

The guy did eventually come out of the dispensary and the woman with me started yelling across the lanes of traffic at him. He was laughing and smiling, and finally realized that there was a problem. He said, “I thought that I hit a curb!” It was the weirdest thing in the world. The police did respond. They eventually did allow me to go and gave me a business card with a case number on it and told me to give that to my insurance company and tell them that I was the no fault driver. He had expired license plates, and was in a fancy company luxury car that had other damage at the back and when the police asked him about that he said, “Oh, that’s been there. That’s another time.” He also produced a little folio with commercial car insurance. When I got home and could think about things logically I noticed the policy was for the years 2014-2015.

On Christmas Eve, I woke up at 4 and just got out of bed a bit before 5 when I realized that I wouldn’t be able to sleep. I called the number on his policy and 45-minutes later was able to make a claim. He must actually be insured. They took the claim. I’ll call them again on Tuesday. In fact, I’ll call them every day until January 2nd when I have to go back to one of my jobs.

The first angel was the woman. The second angel was her daughter. I think that folks who have intellectual disabilities are plugged into other planes and see things that others don’t. I think some of it is safety mechanisms and other aspects are related to other gifts. The next angel was LA. Last night, she took me to the Christmas Eve dinner party and took me home. It was way out of her way and too much extra driving. The next angel appears tonight and it’s the woman from my bowling team who is taking me to her friends’ house tonight. They’re a married couple from her soccer team, and I’ve already met one of the women when we went out one Saturday afternoon when an Irish pub was closing and it was their last weekend. I haven’t met her wife and will tonight. 

Beer and Thesis Art

My refrigerator looks like I think that I have four kids. I didn’t even know that my son was spending Easter with his Dad. I sure bought a lot of food. When my son’s not on Ritalin, which is most Fridays through Sunday, he really can’t think about what he is doing day-to-day. It’s fine. He needs to see his Dad.

I’m going to bike to the gym today because I can’t get in my car again without losing my mind. I’ll leave at 9:45. I just have to finish this entry and coffee and walk the dogs and then I’ll take a very quick shower before I lift. I need to add some more concentrated tricep work. (Why does WordPress think that isn’t a word? I could go downstairs and look at the female muscle poster in my laundry room to get the full name, but I’m not going to.)

I do need to clean again. Why I let me ex-wife convince me that we should have more than my dog for pets will always be an exercise in my foolishness. It gets so hairy and dusty in my house. I don’t know if I will clean today, but I probably can on Thursday. Maybe I should just write out nightly chores for my son. I think that is the best idea, because we’re busy today.

The nice guy is in a samba performance this afternoon, so my son and I are going. My Boss is Jewish, so I invited her to join us considering that she may not have specific Easter plans. Otherwise, it will just be my son and I. I don’t know if my other colleague is joining with her 4-year-old daughter, but she may. She’s Jewish too.

Yesterday I did get to see my colleague’s thesis. It was phenomenal. She had archival photos of intentional housing from the 70s, 80s, and 90s that were from common areas in a building that was designated as retirement housing for former teachers in a large district in the mountain west. She had taken almost the same shots today in black and white and had them framed next to the archival photos. Her thesis was that community is gone, older people are not supported, and that people don’t interact in 2023. My favorite was taken outside the building in 1995 and showed senior men playing putt putt and the 2022 picture is the same shot and is a park bench with no one on it with some grass in the foreground. Gone is the little golf course and people playing.

I was moved by other work too. I sent one about wolves and loss to my colleague who almost died. She is really working on the loss of her Dad these days. I also think a lot about wildfire and enjoyed a watercolor book and mixed media exhibit about the devastation that occurred recently in rural NM.

After I was there about 45-minutes, I got back to my bike and saw that a brewery our community cycling group had sampled in September last fall. I thought, “There are no coincidences,” and went and had a 3 taster flight and then a pint. I was super loaded; although, I didn’t have more than 24-ounces. Thank goodness a handmade pizza company had set up there so I could stay and eat. I did the overheard conversation porn for awhile, which was super entertaining and then a young straight couple with a purebred dog chatted with me too. The woman had the same first name as me. My name is very common, but it was still cool and their dog loved me.

I laid pretty low in the evening. I made asparagus and roast chicken but my son came home an hour late and also ate out. I wasn’t irritated with him though. He can’t follow rules and I would be the one with the problem if I kept expecting him to do so. At least if he’s vaping and doing drugs, he hasn’t done them in my house recently. Having smoke in the house like I did weeks ago is so traumatizing for me. And who knows what metal shit is in those vape devices?!? No thanks. I did return a container to my best friend’s singing partner and put asparagus and chicken in it. I didn’t stay at their house long, but invited them to dinner. I think now that we’ve talked more, they’ll come over. I’m going to portion 5 lunches to my friend who is still caretaking the house. Her brother just died. I’ll put those in her freezer at the house so she won’t have to cook when she comes back from TX.

Happy Easter and belated Happy Passover and may Ramadan and possible fasting be going well!

Image by congerdesign from Pixabay

Poor Life Choices

I’m facing the postscript music of too many beers and a large shot of Patron Silver this morning. Danced and sang. There was one really pretty girl in the bar who seemed to be having a first date that was going well. My friend did a duet with a really tall dark haired pretty girl which was fun to watch, and that girl took my friend’s number but lives elsewhere and is going through a divorce.

Something that I find cool about karaoke in general is that folks who are not striking have the most captivating voices. Every night you go, there is true talent. I bought a girl a shot. She was AMAZING. I just drank too much and feel like shit today. No drinks for T Day and none for a week to give my body a break. I usually crack a beer when I cook, but can’t stomach that idea at all.

I just have to bring beer and make brussels sprouts for my cousin’s shindig today, so it’s a low lift for me. Last year was my Mom’s last holiday. I did my usual cook up a storm for the family and brought food to the receptionist at the Nursing Home. I also made a big plate for the driver for my Mom from the Nursing Home to my house. Life had a rhythm that has changed since my parents died. Last Thanksgiving we sang, played piano, guitar and drummed and my Mom was lucid and happy. There are lots of pictures. I’ve sent the picture of her sister, her in her wheelchair with me and my son to lots of people. I’m glad that my ex wife had discharged from a crisis unit the day before Thanksgiving last year and took that shot and many other pictures. My Mom died at 2 am six-days after Thanksgiving.

Last night, the bar owner belted “The Story,” which was apropos because my son and I had just listened to “Bear Creek” on Tuesday together. I played a few other songs too. I just realized why I got so sullen listening to “The Eye” by Brandi Carlile. It’s because my ex wife was just a year ago completely suicidal and barely discharged for Thanksgiving. Terrifying. I miss things for sure, but not much over the last three years. I can look at pictures of us now wherein we’d always place our heads together in the same position for a pic at a trailhead, on a mountain, on a beach, in a forest, park or in some urban setting outside walking around. I can look at those easily. We had some really good times. Caring for someone with significant mental illness is so trying and drowns out those other good memories if you don’t explore them. Like the picture of my Mom last Thanksgiving, I’m glad that I have pictures of my ex-wife and I enjoying life in moments in time outdoors.

Even with lots of water last night and early morning, I am really dehydrated. I’m almost done with my coffee and nowhere near my normal pee quota. On Mondays, because we’re squished right now at work while a program relocates next fall, I have to interrupt other people working, teaching, presenting, and meeting because I have to pee out coffee and cross over other rooms to get to the bathroom. Sucks. Right now, I am obviously just absorbing the liquid. Time to shower, do a full body weights routine and drink as many glasses of whey that I can. Later, I’ll nest a couple of eggs and oven two Trader Joe’s hash browns, and if that doesn’t cure the hangover, I hope turkey and fixings does.