It’s likely that I am now fully in menopause. I haven’t had a cycle this year. It’s strange, because my mother had cycles until she was in her early 60s. There are only 74-days left this year, so we’ll see.
I haven’t slept really well since before I got married. My ex-wife had nightmares and would often scream in the night. Of course, given that she was in state of sleep paralysis, the scream was like a moan until she could wake herself up and then really start screaming. She eventually slept in the spare bedroom, but because it’s across a fairly narrow hallway, I would have to go over there and either wake her up or knock on the door if she had it locked. My sleep became poor during my marriage, but if she was elsewhere, as she was sometimes for a few months, I could always sleep 7-9 hours.
My son has been out of my house for 15-months so humans don’t wake me up.
I do that myself.
Last night, I was wide awake at 12:30 (I guess Friday morning is accurate). I got up. Reread text messages between my girlfriend and I whilst sipping Valerian tea. I slept another 4-hours.
I feel fine.
I had two rounds of dreams as well.
I would like to go back to 7-9 hours of uninterrupted sleep. And I’ve had medical advice from a FNP. I’ll reproduce some of it here.
Magnesium can make me feel like I have a sleep hangover. I wake up and I’m groggy. Not that the FNP suggested this oral over the counter, but the same is true of taking melatonin. I feel groggy the next day. I have taken CBD and had mixed results with it (not medically advised), and sometimes it also can make me groggy.
I shouldn’t read in bed. I should read in the living room and then go to bed afterward.
Unfortunately, I grind my teeth. However, I have an incredibly expensive custom nightguard now, so I’m adjusted to that just now. Even that took time, because I guess I was trying to grind my teeth initially, because they would feel weird when I woke up and took out the nightguard. They feel fine now, and have for the entirety of this week.
I also sometimes fist my hands in sleep and wake up with hands so sore that it feels like I’ve been boxing. That hasn’t happened in a few months though.
What sleep advice do you have for a 50-year-old? How do you sleep? How has the quality of your sleep changed?
I think that I drink if I’m bored mostly. I also sometimes drink with a few of my friend groups. I typically drink when I’m bowling and usually do so at dinner. I have fun at beer fests and did one solo recently. I have had wine with holiday dinners since I was born.
I learned from being with one of my previous partners, who now has a new liver, that it is anger-provoking to be with someone who is tipsy, drunk or loaded when you’re sober. In fact, I remember when she didn’t even acknowledge that I had landed, was swimming topless in a pool, and I had to drag my suitcase to the place where she was because I didn’t know the name of the complex where our room was in Key West. She was either drunk or was edgy and pissy all the time. If she hadn’t been drinking (yet), she’d snap at you.
Batman and I nearly split a bottle of wine once during dinner that we’d cooked together. We had drinks in a bar one time. Another time when we were doing book planning, she and I drank tequila and ate taco soup. Otherwise, she and I hung out sober. In fact, the time that we made out for almost four-hours we had been drinking tea. When I’m with women, I don’t drink at all unless they are too.
I had a hideous day at work yesterday and was tapped out too because the day involved my being away from the house just over 12-hours and the petsitter’s boyfriend came over after I’d gotten home. (He was supposed to be there 5:30-7:30.) I didn’t quite understand all of his explanation; however, I told him that I’d make two different arrangements while his girlfriend is abroad. I accepted his apology.
I low key wanted a drink. Instead, I made a potluck invitation and waited for my girlfriend to text me so I could connect with someone who I care about before I went to sleep. I would’ve made up my cardio given that I missed Monday because I was with my girlfriend and her daughter in a canyon, but I was too tired. I would’ve had a beer if I wasn’t thinking.
LA was either drunk or nursing a hangover by drinking when I she flew in to meet me in NYC after I turned 50. There was a time period that I wasn’t sure that the nature of our friendship would survive. However, when I was talking with my girlfriend about it, slept on it one night, and then when I awakened I realized that it was more about her sleep apnea that she doesn’t take care of that upset me. (My son was born with enlarged tonsils and by the time I fought with the HMO long enough and they removed them, his adenoids had formed plaques blocking his airway completely.) I don’t like that drowning noise. It scares me.
When I was pregnant with my son, I missed coffee. I had an even more heightened sense of smell then– and my sense of smell is strong anyway–but when I would smell coffee, I wanted a cup or five. It was only when I was eight-and-a-half-months pregnant and so miserable that I would have four tablespoons of red wine and take a bath. I didn’t miss alcohol for my pregnancy.
What’s your relationship with alcohol? When have you had more of it than other times in your life? What do you see with your friends and family when they’re drinking?
I have my fourth date with ________ tonight. I’m picking her up at 6:15.
I cannot wait to get my arms around her and listen to her.
She said that she likes the colors in the rainbow as her favorite color. When she asked mine, she’d painted a replica of Georgia O’Keefe on a small canvas and wrapped it. What’s really crazy is that I saw it at The Met. She added more red to it than was in the original.
I’m wearing a black t-shirt from my league that has rainbow letters tonight. I’ll wear jeans and Birkenstocks too.
She’s coming over for a bit because she’s never seen the inside of my house. Then we’re heading to the Realtor’s Housewarming. We can only stay an hour because she has to get home to relieve the babysitter.
On Monday we’re all three going hiking. If my son didn’t have school, I’d have him come along too.
I think it’s natural to reflect on previous relationships when you’re starting a new one.
The largest backdrop now is that I’m not exclusive with anyone. Whenever Batman pops up we’ll be romantic. When GA visits again, I’ll take her on a date. I’m still interested in having girlfriends who don’t live here too.
Face your past: One reflection point entered into my main site two weeks ago too and now I’ll work with her. I hadn’t seen her in 12-years. So they’re would be no issues, I texted her to meet. I think that she thought that I was still interested in her, which is alarming. It’s also arrogant.
How did it even happen: The CEO and I were excellent break-up / make-up people and I slept with this woman for a few weeks when the CEO and I were on hiatus. Of course the latter flipped out and then said that we needed to date again. This woman, who now I’ll work with, is called the Little Liar and Peter Pan in my blog. She ran with a lie about her career for weeks. I caught her in it when she wasn’t working. I was pissed.
Now, she’s just someone who I work with 3-4 days a week and we’ve agreed to say that we dated 12-years-ago so we don’t have to have dishonesty at work. She added, “I have a partner,” when she was standing by me when I was getting on my bike to leave, and I quickly said, “I have situations too.” Not that she asked. In fact, she didn’t ask me anything and jawed away for half-an-hour and I got bored and started getting up. Oh, the things that we do when we’re still in throes of a dysfunctional relationship!
Regardless, seeing her on site for an interview was alarming at first. Then, I processed and read entries from July and August of 2012. After I stopped seeing her and after I finally put the nail in the coffin with the CEO, I wrote about what I’m looking for:
Smart
Sexy
Wants to see me
Loves to be outside
Enjoys music
Wants to laugh
Willing to work through conflict
Open and adaptable
It’s so strange. I wrote this 12-years-ago. ________ checks off each number.
I’d heard all kinds of things about NYC from people who lived there, were born in one of the five boroughs, or had visited there once or with frequency. I didn’t find anything that I had heard to be true.
People are not friendly
There could never be something more far from the truth. People in the hotels, people on the street, people in restaurants connected with me and helped me
A young man approached me at La Guardia and told me where the taxi stand was and offered to take me to where I was staying for a flat rate which included all toll fees. (I tipped him well because he was the sweetest. He was handsome and charming and I kept hoping that in 5-years that will be how my kid is.)
I got in very late, checked into my hotel at 10, and my room was 61-degrees and I called downstairs and the concierge told me how to turn off the blower. Then he called me back. Then an engineer from facilities came upstairs to check on me
I got lost a lot. Everyone helped me
I needed recommendations, and everyone offered one when asked
I fought with a Citi Bike to get it in the back in the rack. I couldn’t get it to thread and a man born in Rhode Island who has been a transplant now in NYC for 30-years helped me get it in the clips
The lesbians were friendly, made conversation and were so affectionate
2. NYC is expensive
The prices that I paid for meals were like those in Santa Fe, Denver and less than in Boulder
Portions are so huge that you can take them with you. I ate Asian style ribs, skirt steak with excellent Chimichurri and yellow rice because LA who met me at the end of my trip didn’t finish it. I didn’t have to eat gross and overpriced airport food when I was flying home
This is one of the best things that I’ve ever eaten–and I’ve had 36-hour rotisserie chicken at Bobby Flay
NYC is dirty
I have never seen workers pressure walking sidewalks with that much frequency. Everywhere I’d go in Manhattan, I would have to dodge hoses because they were making sidewalks pristine
All of the garbage from giant apartment buildings and brownstones are bagged and collected constantly. There are not plastic bottles or bags anywhere in the gutter, and I stayed on Times Square!
People sit out on their stoops and if they’re smoking or vaping, they collect what belongs to them and put it in a napkin or the like and throw it out in the metal garbage cans that are everywhere
NYC has tons of crime
Ok, truthfully I was in Queens and Manhattan; however, my step count for the trip was 110,680 and I was walking after 4 am twice, and once was alone! I also used the subway, and have never felt safer. (Times that I’ve thought that I could die have been in Jacksonville and Las Vegas.)
There are police officers everywhere. They’re pretty stoic; however, they’re at work in one of the largest cities in the world, so I understood lack of eye contact and business-like natures. When we tried to take the subway from the theater district to Little Italy for the San Gennaro festival, a police officer got us through the turnstile because we were heading the wrong way out of Manhattan and he called another Police Officer at different subway station to let us through the turnstile and not the scanning gate (He didn’t want us to pay again.)
You can see cameras on the streets, on businesses, and there are private security guards near shopping districts
I just hope that if you’ve heard these myths and not visited, you’d consider NYC. It is a wonderful place to visit because you have art and performance. It’s also a friendly, reasonably priced, safe and clean city. I guess that now I understand “I love New York.” I think that my turning 50 there will leave a lasting impact on me and my life going forward. Don’t believe the myths.
I spent my 20s establishing my career, my 30s coming out, my 40s getting financially stable, and wonder what my 50s will hold. I’m not sure.
I got off of a plane and had a private driver explain the boroughs of NYC to me after he offered to take me to my hotel. He told me some things that I could do which would be unique. After I checked in, I went walking.
After a huge serving of guacamole and two tacos, I heard the staff singing to a man and realized, “Wait, it’s after 2 in the morning, so it’s my birthday! I went over to his table and asked when his birthday was and it was actually the day before. I told him that mine was today. He wished me a happy birthday.
An hour later, the staff came out with a vanilla ice cream rolled in toasted coconut topped with sprinkles. They sang to me, which I usually hate, but it made me happy. I told everyone at the restaurant that I was 50.
Did you know that Julia Child was an accomplished chef, but that her tv show which propelled her into fame was filmed when she was in her 50s? Judi Dench was a stage actress who’s appearance in “Goldeneye” made her famous. She made that film at 50. I hope to publish my book at 50.
I did things the next day that made me happy. I looked at art for 4-hours and walked everywhere. I went to a restaurant in Manhattan on the other side of Central Park, and I tried to eat broccoli rabe, but they didn’t have any, so I ate roasted carrots and calamari rings with homemade red sauce. When I did finally get back to where I was staying I read “Class,” and spoiler alert, this book is even better than “Maid” is.
NYC was a great place to reach 50. I’m glad that I made it happen. My other goals pertain to my book, reading for pleasure everyday, staying healthy and strong, working on my emotional landscape and being intentional with my time.
I try to ensure that I’m reading everyday because I want to publish my book this year. Right now, I’m looking for an illustrator. Batman is off-grid. I took her bio off of my website. I can’t wait around for her, so I’m contacting folks on Fiverr. I thought that I had a good connection with an artist in Spain, but now the messages are gone. I have to keep plugging away
Making it to half a century is a big deal. I want to stay in good physical condition and connect with people who I love. It’s important to me to continue things that are meaningful to me, and I know that I want to let go of many other habits thereby disrupting some behavior patterns.
I read an article to get ready to write this post. The author says that when women turn fifty that they have to see if the curtains that see match the patterns in themselves inwardly and outwardly. Looking inward is always a little difficult for me.
I struggle a bit making sense of my own emotions (inwardly) so I have to take lots of time to process. I wonder if it would be helpful to rate my emotion daily as a tracking? Outwardly, I’m in good physical shape–especially for my age and the fact that my body was in pieces 36-years ago. I think that my body matches my mindset. I am thinking about tracking where I am day to day with my sleep, activity, level and human connections that occur in real life.
I’ve done it. I am the last one in my family of origin and I’m half a century. I visited the coolest city in the world (I’ll have an entry upcoming.). I have been reading voraciously, I am contacting professional illustrators for my book, I am quite fit, I am committed to improving my emotional bandwidth, and I refuse to say yes to spending time with anyone who’s life I don’t enhance and vice versa.
I have a million thoughts in my head and have so many topics that I’d like to write about. I think that I need to make a plan. I haven’t written in a really long time and don’t know how to complete one coherent post. I would appreciate anyone making a comment with a vote of where I should start.
Why the myths about NYC are myths
Turning 50 in the most robust city
A new, incredible love interest
Why going slow and being intentional with romantic interests is helpful
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 started off my day having breakfast with one of my first cousins whom I’d not seen since 1997. I met her kids too, and they were so cool. I had to take my dog to the vet–she had a concerning lab result in her blood, and they’re running her blood through the lab again. I also had an appointment (telemedicine) for me because I’m having weird aches in my hips and can’t sleep very well given being perimenopausal. That appointment was great and the outcome will be part of subsequent entries as I trial out two meds. And then I went to a bowling team member’s house to cook meals that our other team member had ordered and couldn’t cook given the funeral back east for her paternal grandmother. We ate the meals with our friend who named our bowling team. I got a text showing the water cremation container and alter type of area in the family viewing area too for my former sister-in-law. It was a busy day.
I got to sleep around 10:30. However, I had weird nightmares and can only remember one with any detail this morning.
I’ve had nightmares most of my life. I had them as a child, adolescent, and young adult. During my second marriage they were less frequent.
I probably hadn’t had one this disturbing or memorable in 5-years or so.
The nightmare: I was helping my former in-laws in a house. My brother-in-law was in and out of the house and the last time he left he said that he was going elsewhere. I was changing in a bedroom and saw his face in the window and then he sauntered off. I went outside to confront him, had trouble finding him, and then found him by an out building under a tree. He said that he was playing music and there was a guitar and some whistles also outside. The latter were those that Pan or another mythical creature would play.
When I got back to the bedroom he was staring in again, and I screamed for him to leave. He stared me down, his eyes glowed white, and he put his large palm on the window and it glowed.
I think that it’s probably time for me to get back in talk therapy.
I read completely this summer “The Body Keeps the Score,” and found the chapters on yoga, theater, and art inspiring.
Moving traumatic memories through your body is efficacious and may be a better modality for people who’ve gone through events which were outside of their control.
I flirt around with learning to dance, recording audio content for books (I have a very nice speaking voice), and keeping up with my boxing.
However, I think that in addition to any new body centered practice, I better do some work with regards to this murder which I’m obviously processing.
My childhood was weird. I lost my brother in an accident that severely injured me. I have atrophy on my lower left side due to that accident. My parents never picked up the pieces of losing my brother and I probably haven’t either. My Dad was emotionally and physically abusive. My son was very difficult to raise, and he’s not raised yet. My ex-wife was the love of my life. She has massive health problems and is now partnered in an unconventional situation with a man. I think that is a good idea for her for a variety of reasons and she hadn’t been with a man since 8-10th grade.
Anyway, I have memories and experiences that are likely stuck in my body. I need to approach making sense of experiences so I’m not carrying the weight of them.
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.
Return 