I had a really scary Chevette in 1991. My Dad was generally an intense and angry person and he didn’t want to work per se, but did. When he bought a newer car (new to him, as it was used) he gave me his Chevette, which he used previously for commuting to work and errands. There were holes in the floorboards which would shoot geysers up when torrential rain would gather on the streets. He hated driving and literally pushed holes into the bottom of his car.
Some asides about my Dad: I think that his preference would have been to live abroad (He did for many years, and his mother did some power play stuff to get him back to the states.) in a commune working collaboratively. He was also a Marxist and well-read and he believed in a specific philosophy of Marxism. He didn’t want to be married and certainly didn’t want to be a father. He did, however, give me his Chevette when I was 17 and my Mom wasn’t driving me to school any longer. I don’t have a car to give my son and because my brother is now gone, I can’t get help with navigating this experience with my son.
I have only used a Car Broker for cars that I’ve bought. There just doesn’t seem to be a quick turnaround with Brokers these days.
I’ve put a ton of parts into mine in the last three months. I’m going to drive it two more years and then I’m going to research and get something new. I don’t know that I am going electric. I had thought that they were more ecological because the batteries don’t need to be replaced, which isn’t true. I’ll spend some of the summer of 2027 researching cars before I get mine. I have only had 6 different cars across 50-years. I never drove my ex-husband’s cars and only drove the four that my ex-wife leased a handful of times across the nine-years that we were together. I don’t think that I’ll drive my son’s car either.
We test drove two cars yesterday and now I have to go back to the lot by 2:00 or so. I’ve researched exactly what the car is worth. The nice thing about it is that the one that he prefers hasn’t been in any accidents. However, it did spend a few years in Minnesota, so I’m going to have my son take it to a mechanic who owns a muffler and radiator shop to look under it. If there is rust, we won’t keep it. We have 90-days to return it.
Now it’s time to pay closer to what the value for the car is actually, which is super unpleasant.
When I had a two-year-old, I was single. Two is a tough age generally. The good thing about it is that they can talk, and the bad thing about it is they are still a baby.
She came over yesterday afternoon and gave me a big smile in her car as she was parking in my driveway. She wasn’t wearing her glasses so her green eyes were not obscured and beautiful. I like them when it’s overcast.
My dog got so excited that she pooped in the house and there was a loose dog outside too that I thought maybe my neighbor had adopted, but he just put it in his backyard and said he’d call. The little dog had a collar on. We finally got into my house and I took her hands and led her back to my bedroom.
My son was studying at the library yesterday.
I know that much of our obstacles are her getting used to seeing someone who doesn’t want to co-habit or remarry. However, she has said that now she likes having all of her parenting choices within her sphere of influence and that is easier in most respects.
Anyway, Baby Daddy is a piece of work. No financial, emotional or any support. He’s not seen her daughter in a couple of years and he texts “Hi,” late at night and ignores all of her texts of pictures that she used to send. He also has or has pawned a 3/4 karat diamond that he has had in a safe for their daughter which was my girlfriend’s mother’s ring. He ignores texts my girlfriend sends to ask to get it back. He’s an asshole.
The ring makes me feel awful. For that reason, I am working with a jewelry designer who I know to make a white gold ring with rhodium overlay. There will be a lab diamond and two gemstones. Hers is a ruby and her daughter’s is an emerald. I want her daughter to inherit something given that her dad may continue douchebaggery.
Yesterday after we’d connected and talked a bunch, I asked her if she wanted to go get some food.
She said that she needed to get her finger sized. (I was super concerned that she wouldn’t wear / like her birthday present so told her about it on Tuesday after we were getting a late bite after the concert.) I told her that she’s a 5. She said her finger is bigger. There is no way.
However, we went to an expensive European jewelry store in our expensive shopping district. She’s a 5.5 and she barely listened to me, but believed the proprietor when she explained European sizing, bandwidth, and when it’s cold not wanting it to slip away forever. She texted the designer her size when we left.
Then we picked up fast casual burgers and I ate mine in the car. She told me that she can’t believe how fit I am with how much I eat. She said that her ex-husband couldn’t do that either. I told her that I exercise a lot and she said, “Not really. When I was doing various tris and marathons, I was in the gym an hour a day everyday.” I didn’t tell her that a mother could never do that. And that’s true. You can’t do lots of things that you’d like to do with a kid. Some of your previous self never comes back.
I asked her if I could tag along to the daycare school and hang out with them. We talked about interesting clients on the drive over. Her daughter was stoked to see me. We all played at the park together and then I asked her not to take the highway back to her house but take street because I intended to bail out when she was at a stoplight. I did and walked home.
I’m so glad that we talked through this conflict. I can’t wait to blog about what she does for plans for us this upcoming month. We’re in different phases of life. It doesn’t change how much of my heart she has.
I have a somewhat comprehensive evaluation that I’m completing today. I’m going to take all the kits and materials up to the practice office and get set up there. I am getting the dreadful COVID vaccination late afternoon, so I’ll probably be running fevers and generally feeling awful all night.
Yesterday, we took my girlfriend’s daughter to a Valentine Fundraising Event late afternoon, and then I stopped by WF and picked up food for my girlfriend to eat after we hung out and had adult time together.
Last Saturday she and I did a fancy dinner and saw a sexy ballet.
My girlfriend is another shrink. She has done the gamut: behavior tech, lead therapist in a Residential Treatment program, prison work, private practice, working for a large company with clients who are dually diagnosed and in recovery etc. Suffice to say, you can’t hide much from this woman.
I wouldn’t want to anyway.
She’s really easy to trust.
I’ve never been treated this well in a romantic relationship.
Our kids have spent some holiday time together and such. She knows that two weeks ago my son mixed LSD and lots of marijuana. He’s lucky he’s ok. I guess his Dad is too.
My girlfriend wanted to understand what my thought process was when I let my ex-husband 7 drinks loaded get into his girlfriend’s car and drive home when he was “babysitting” our son who was still very much in the throes of paranoia and other problems coming down from substances and his having not eaten much all day.
I told her last night that I didn’t care what happened to him. I don’t know why that is either. Last night I told her that he has rarely showed up for our son in 19-years.
I didn’t tell her this stuff, but I’ll write it:
He paid child support most all of the 18-years
Except when he had a breakdown and moved states, he saw our son every other weekend for about 36-48-hours each weekend
He made sure that our son had Halloween costumes and usually dressed up with him
He taught him more board games and also historical niche games that no one knows
When my second marriage was crumbling, he housed our son off and on for close to 2-years
He’s an alcoholic.
One time when we’d been married a year or under, he threw up in the sink. I was so angry. He called me a bitch.
When I finished my first round of grad school and we had a party at my parent’s house, he drank 8 beers and was talking to my second girlfriend’s fiancé in hiking boots and tighty whities.
He got a DUI and lost his license for just over a year in 2008.
My son explains that he was either laughing loudly at things that aren’t funny or falling asleep with a can of beer in his hand for an evening activity when he lived with him.
It didn’t even register to me that he shouldn’t drive home that Sunday. I just wanted him out of my house. I was also fuming that he can’t be sober or drink lightly when he’s taking care of our son who did something stupid and juvenile that could’ve had catastrophic consequences.
I’m going to talk about the situation in therapy. I’m glad that she brought it up to me.
Please comment. No shame or blame for confrontation.
My son experimented mixing two drugs with his friends at his friend’s parents’ house last Saturday night.
He lost his expensive headphones that I got him for Christmas, his keys on my old teenage keychain, and a climbing sling that was bought when we were visiting my former sister-in-law and her family, so it can’t be replaced.
My ex-husband got drunk watching our son for 4-hours.
The Ballet Dancer and I had a dinner–well, I ate–and a romantic concert in an 140-year-old school house in the hills and walked out under the stars Sunday night.
Too bad that the previous sentence was what was going on at home during our date.
Barring any emergency, I’m done speaking to my ex-husband.
It’s really awkward to leave a site after working there for 7-years.
ICE raids made Wednesday very difficult at work.
When you’re dating someone and typically only text between mostly weekly dates, things can get misconstrued.
I would’ve talked about my 5-month-old relationship in therapy, but had to process the first two sentences of this entry with my therapist.
I like micro dosing. I am going to have a full dose with supervision from a practitioner in July.
I made an appointment with our old family therapist who we had even seen during the pandemic.
I paid $21 for 2 dozen eggs on January 26th. I have to buy them again this weekend, and am worried that they’ll be $30.
I had a clean–from my perspective–appetizer and connection with the Realtor last night.
I don’t drink. Sometimes when I’m really thirsty or hungry and have been under stress, I want a beer. I drink Coconut La Croix.
If I’m out, I pound Club Sodas with lime while other people have a glass of alcohol or a couple of glasses of wine. I smuggled in two cans of La Croix to bowling on Monday. I only averaged 122, but did bowl a 181 in my final game.
My paycheck from my main job hasn’t cleared my account. I have to pay my mortgage.
My pay from the monthly teaching job has been reduced by over $400, so I emailed the Dean.
I need to go to the Book Designer on the 17th or 18th.
I can’t believe how much pet hair is all over my living room and furniture.
I have a dinner and hot ballet date with my girlfriend tomorrow.
Woof.
Have you ever had a week wherein you have to keep your head down and soldier on? How are you feeling now that we know that climate change impacts the way in which we eat and how much water we have for everyone? What do you think about the oligarchy? Fascism? How are your finances? Can you distract yourself with romance and entertainment when the whole world is seemingly going mad?
Enjoy this patterned bear nestled in the Smokies. Answer any questions that you see fit.
Last summer it rained throughout May and most of June. We had 5.86 inches of rain in June. This place usually gets 15 inches of precipitation in a year! It was really hard to do any yard work because it was raining and often very hard. Then the weather shifted and it just got beastly hot. I’m paying for that pattern next year. We have city composting, and on Saturday and Sunday I filled up my city bin with cheat grass, some long bindweed and Mullen. One of the latter had blown in the yard in 2020 or 2021 and now the seeds propagate everywhere from wind, birds and such.
I think it will take me forever to get these weeds under control. I gave my Roundup to my neighbor because it disturbs me to kill all the moths, butterflies and lady bugs. The bindweed is hideous. I’m unsure if you can ever truly get rid of it anyway.
I didn’t make a dent in the weeds.
Family Connections: I spent the majority of the weekend with my family because my cousin got married. She is my first cousin’s daughter. The former and I are very close. It was so great to be with her and her kids. Those interactions didn’t feel weedy with the exception of my son hitting a wall, getting overwhelmed, having a bizarre conversation on the phone with his girlfriend in the car after we had to leave the wedding, and then going home with me to talk.
Saturday night he told me that he wants to break up with her and doesn’t know how. Yesterday when we worked out he said that they were taking a break and then going to couple’s therapy after the break. I told him that an 18-year-old has to go to couple’s therapy is sad and strange. It’s no secret that I don’t approve in the slightest of their relationship. I’m not going to comment ever again about it. That situation is entangled too.
A few sunflowers in the bindweed
Children’s Book: It’s May. I told the Climber that I’d ask her again about illustrating our book and that story has a few turns too.
I had a good day at my other site. My last day there is May 31st! I got a really good job next year for that part of my assignment.
After seeing clients who are done, and terminating with three clients, I did documentation and wrote a report for my other site. I decided to go home an hour early and use sick leave.
We have instant messaging at work that it’s a little bit like Slack, and I chatted to the Climber, “Do you have a second today to answer a personal question?”
I didn’t hear back and left around 3. I was driving home and in a mass of traffic and got a text from her. She never texts. It said, “Came to look for you in your office!” I texted her a picture of my dashboard and the street. I got home and she texted again. It said, “Mega hailstorm here and I hope that you’re driving safe.” I sent her a picture of my dog and my son’s cat on the rug with a text caption, “I’m home safely. I hope that your drive is safe given the weather.” Then she called me 10-minutes later!
We had a quick conversation and she asked what I wanted to ask her. I said, “Well, it’s May, and I told you that I wouldn’t bug you about our book, but I’d ask again in May. Can you illustrate for us?” She apologized for not working on it and said, “Yes.” It was definitive. I told her that with the Boss laying into her, her not knowing if she’d still work there in the fall and spring, and all the stuff going on, I understood and that was great news. So, if she’s at work on the 31st, I’ll have to ask her about timelines.
Lots of weeds. Lots of connections. Some sunflowers.
I used to watch those when I’d get back to my room when I was on a solo vacation. Detectives had to make quick investigative moves within the initial exploration of a crime and there would be a countdown timer running to break up scenes and visually illustrate how cold a trail can go if you don’t have major lead for crime within two days. The climber gives me feedback, has dinner with me, we look at two published books which fit best the genre that we’re writing in, she talks about being excited to sketch, we cuddle on the couch and talk for probably nearly two hours, later we kiss awhile too in the bedroom, she goes home to her partner, I work all day the next day and learn about affirming transgender youth, have fraud on my debit card, go to dinner with Aquarius and Ballet Dancer, get up today, am going to box, do a bit of the guitar class and go to our old haunt for bowling. Whew.
Love Life Progression
She had something really intense happen in her household. She had to support, drive around, and then did make it over. Initially she said that she didn’t really want to talk about it, and then she told me details. I held her incredibly tight. When I said, “I’m shocked that you’re here,” she said, “You of all people are someone who understands these things.” She said that she needed distraction, so I opened good tequila, and we had that and the taco soup that I made. I cleared the dishes and we looked at the pages. She gave me some feedback and I took notes. Then I said that we should sit down. I got her a blanket and we were talking. My terrier was in between us and I said that she was a cuddle buzzkill because I am mostly legs and she’s really muscular so our torsos aren’t a perfect fit sideways on a love seat. She moved my dog, pivoted sideways and I slid behind her. We talked like that for probably close to two-hours.
There is a huge shift since the end of January wherein I told her that I don’t know her well. She offers a lot to me. She also converses with me back and forth when I ask questions. It feels so much different than it ever has. She told me that she watches my hands on the steering wheel and I told her that her ears are the cutest ones that I have ever seen and I look at them when her hair is up. We both said that we could probably comment on hands and ears because the nice guy would be asleep in the back of the car anyway. She can do this thing where if she has contact with your upper body that she can match the pace of your breathing. Later I laid on her chest and she said, “What are you doing?” I said, “Sorry, laying on you like this makes my heart race!” She said, “You’re barely breathing.” Later she asked if she could kiss me and I said, “Of course.” I hope that helped my breathing!
No more talk therapy for me personally
The Rower has a crush on a woman who does an alternate trauma treatment. It’s called breath work. She cried for two hours once in a session. I think that I’ll do some. I also want to start supervised psychedelic treatment. I’m so sick of anxiety and disrupted sleep. I would like to work on the way that I breathe and carry myself.
My son wants to move back home. I really don’t want him here. I’ve had almost 7-months of empty nesting and am perfectly fine seeing him once a week. He also has this prince thing wherein he has expectations of meals and such all the time. I find that I can’t be around someone who cannot follow a schedule. How can watching some gamer that you don’t know beat a video game on YouTube for hours on end be fulfilling? He also has stopped moving and says that he is reluctant to have his fellow students work on him because of the state of his body. Why do you only eat food out of boxes and bags then? I’m writing this stuff, but will be diplomatic on Monday night about it. He just can’t simply move back home because now that he’s in school, and it’s hard to do school and live with his Dad. I’m very sorry that his father is an alcoholic and binge drinker. That does suck. I also am not a servant who you get to say “F-U” to constantly.
In terms of the theme of this entry, I think that I’m making progress. Maybe this entry is more like 49-years? It’s taken me this long to get solid about what I truly want and where I’m going.
I’ve been to the art museum and the ballet with my new friend now. A few times last night I caught myself looking at her body. It’s funny, because I don’t feel a pull to kiss her or embrace close. We have great conversations and enjoyed expensive dinner and the ballet. We’ll likely see each other again soon. I explained that I don’t want strict ruled based partnerships and she told me that likely it was related to having just gotten out of my marriage and I told her that it was related to my returning to my native state. I just feel more comfortable in the magic moments with women and then having my jobs, pets, cardio, weights, boxing, climbing and guitar lessons be my side of my life. I also have creative time scheduled now. I’m going to write a prologue and epilogue today for the book.
I’m finishing “Solo: Building your own Remarkable Life.” If you’ve never listened to the podcast, it’s all new information. I’m enjoying most the small snippets about the author’s life. I think that is a ciswoman thing. Like Carol Gilligan (1982) wrote women are relational. Anyway, he writes about sexual friendships. I wonder if that is the way that I lean. I don’t know really. I know that barring any horrid emergency, no one at all can live in my house and I don’t want to blend any finances.
I’ve been transferring money out of my son’s 529c for school. I started a spreadsheet to give to my accountant next spring. I’m so glad that he’s going to school. He plays video games, looks at his phone, and hangs out with his girlfriend. This round of school will serve as evidentiary support regarding to whether or not he can set and reach goals. I don’t know, but am hopeful.
Spoiler: this entry could be boring to read. It’s just a dump for me and something that I feel like I can process better if I write it out. If I was still Catholic, I could confess it. I’ve had five-years of analysis, and I’m grateful for that, and really used it to process the trauma that my Dad inflicted which helped me at the end of his life to just show up: take him to appointments, talk to nurses, go to hospitals, go back and forth to his house, get a roofing company to help him get a new roof, get Life Alert set up, etc.
We’d been hit: I had 7 fractures and was in the hospital, my brother was dead, and my first gf was barely injured in 1988, but I am going to start in 1994 when I moved into my apartment that was mine, as a college student. I had few things–it was furnished–but my old roommate started coming over a lot and then we wound up being together intimately. That was a dick move on both of our parts because she had a cousin of a Spanish exchange student living with her in the dorms at the time and she called this guy her brother. She never saw her and was with me all the time and most every night. My landlord got mad after awhile, so the following year we got our own 2-bedroom apartment, and she mostly slept with me. She began seeing a high school classmate of mine too, and we’d go back to the state where I am from and see him. She still slept with me. She eventually was kinda still with my high school classmate, me, and her new bf (She eventually married him), and we just stopped being sexually intimate. It’s weird that few people know. I didn’t go abroad in college because I was with her and she freaked when I suggested it. I started seeing a guy for the first time really during my senior year of college. Yesterday, we’d have been married 25-years.
I lived alone in 1997 and really liked it. That was a year that my Mom wouldn’t really talk to me. My Mom was always my touchstone. She was so pissed at me for going to graduate school that she cut off emotional and financial support. She said that I was “acting like _______’s family who has money.” I told her that I didn’t want to work for Social Services which is all that I was qualified to do with a degree in English and another degree in Psychology (I had taken AP classes so that I received two Bachelor’s in four-years. Not a double major–but, I rather got two full degrees and diplomas.). She told me, “Maybe you need to work for Social Services.” I liked grad school. That was the first time that I felt solo. I ate for the first time in a restaurant by myself, which was weird at first, but is now something that I do all of the time. If I didn’t teach that day, I didn’t hear another human voice. I learned about being lonely and how it’s just a dynamic state that shifts and is not bad, but an uncomfortable emotion.
My previous bf pursued me and then asked me to marry him. I just said yes because I was 23 and really young and dumb. I was married to him for nine years. We never really used any birth control after I completed my degree and we didn’t get pregnant until 2004. That was when I really saw that he didn’t know how to be responsible for much. He never helped with cleaning or cooking. He liked to garden, and that’s about it. He hates being active outside. It’s weird because even to this day he says that he likes it, but if you’re outdoors with him he rages around and complains the whole time and is a bummer.
He is also not one to be inconvenienced at all. One time when our son had his days and nights mixed up, he yelled at him, “Sleep!” while he was smiling in a swing. It’s like my ex-husband wants to play, be on the Internet reading, read books, and not be bothered with any chores, but is fine going to a job that is straightforward: wash dishes or sell attire. It’s a good thing really that in 2007 I fell completely in love with my Boss. I found places for my soon-to-be-ex-husband to live when he screamed at me in front of our son while he was sitting quietly in the back of the car in his car seat. I’ve never looked back after our divorced finalized in March of 2008. I don’t have much respect for the way that he leads his life. His IQ is 142 and he works in retail sales. He lives in a 403-foot square-foot unrenovated apartment and the units next door have been renovated. I found this apartment for him in 2017 and he doesn’t move, ask about a 2-bedroom or inquire with the management or the owner regarding a good space for himself, and now, our son too.
I fell in love with her picture in 2009. I waited until she was single, and she had moved back here where she is from in 2012. She was single in 2013. She fell in love with me quickly, we got engaged in 2014 and married in May. We had some good times together, but are very different people.
I work in spurts. I work a lot too and have a capacity for enormous amounts of work. I have to get in a zone though and am not steady. She would get on my ass all the time about grading, prepping, opening mail, put away clothes, etc. She is beautiful, but super bossy. Actually, she’s probably controlling. I was around for her confronting her sex abusing stepdad, dealing with her leaving a therapy group that was a lot like a cult and all the aftermath from it, and her mental and physical health declining. She was around for helping me finish my dissertation and taking care of my son, and then watching my son decline.
My son made threats at school, he one-upped his gf and tried to get hospitalized, he began emotionally manipulating friends and family members, he punched himself in the face over and over when his Dad had moved out of state, and told friends that his Dad was back and abusing him, he robbed our neighbors and gave their possessions to “friends,” he got suspended from school, he has been on and off lots of meds, he experimented with drugs, he has done some things that I don’t completely understand that have resulted in him being bullied at school, he dropped out, and he has never been respectful to me when I’ve needed simple help in the house that we shared until 6th grade when he declined. He has lived with his Dad about a total of a year-and-a-half and now will never be allowed to return home without some serious family therapy and trial periods. He needs to grow up, or marry royalty. He has very little motivation though and gained tons of weight since the pandemic when he stopped playing sports. I know he vapes. I know that he occasionally smokes pot. I think he is drinking now, and his shape is less like a seventeen-and-a-half-year-old and more like a 30-something alcoholic. It’s sad. He’s charming.
He transferred schools and graduated early in one trimester and was Valedictorian. Teachers and many adults love him. However, my tenure is useless. I can’t impact him anymore and he doesn’t talk to me since I told him that I heard my last fu. He’s really just mad that he doesn’t have full run of a 1056-square foot basement including his own bedroom where his gf can come and go. Someday, he will realize that he makes his own messes. I don’t deny mental illness, but he lets it rule him. He’s been in therapy since he was 6 and completed 40-weeks of a very expensive Dialectical Behavior Therapy Group (DBT) and was only supposed to take two-months off and then do intensive work in that area, but he hasn’t called a new therapist. I’ll see it on my insurance if his gf ever makes him do that. I think that if he’d get up in the morning and take a simple walk, he’d feel better. He could make food when he got back and have some free time before he coaches at night. He told his Dad that he is taking a “senior year,” and his Dad said, “If you don’t have a full-time job by next spring, you’re a bum.” I’m sure that they’re having lots of fun in 403-square feet together.
I had one dog, and my ex-wife insisted on all these pets. They’re hard to afford, hairy, and make lots of messes. I do love them. They’re a ton of responsibility, but I’ll see it through. I do love them, but they are so much work and care.
While all these things were happening with my son, and I was in a new marriage, my parents went downhill. Several weeks after I turned 40 my Mom shattered her shoulder. About a year before that, my Dad stopped sleeping. I think it was the very beginning of dementia. Like me, he was always a good sleeper. I can’t tell you all the stress it caused to respond to all the falls that they both had while I was working two jobs, doing training, parenting and trying to preserve a new marriage.
One time there was blood all over the stairwell when I went to turn off all the lights at their house when my Dad was in the hospital for 4-days. They’d always discharge him to home and it would be another round. My Mom was at home with higher levels of private care (They used to have 225k in cash in an Account.) from 2014 to 2018 when she transitioned from care at home (17-21k per month) to the nursing home which is an average of 11k per month. She spent down, I did failed applications, and finally found a consultant, and got Medicaid. My Dad followed her midway through 2019. COVID would kill him and he would die with staff around him in hazmat suits on April 19, 2020. It was a blessing. He didn’t sleep except during the day and couldn’t communicate well and mostly sat in his bed with his eyes closed and earphones on listening to jazz. My Mom got COVID that June (2020) and her health just declined until she died on December 1, 2021.
My job involves taking care of students who are 11 through adulthood. It’s also very stressful. I’m only going to do it for 6 more years. I should mention that I teach graduate school too, and have also coordinated a graduate program. Neither of the people that I have been married to have contributed to my mortgage, or really ever had lasting careers. My ex-husband paid half of the monthly mortgage payment for one year, and then promptly quit his good job and that was back in 2003. He didn’t work, clean, cook or help for 8-months as he was “finding himself.” I work and make money. I have been responsible for so many people, am still at work, and for these 5 pets.
In relationship, I don’t ever want to be responsible for anyone ever again. I’m waiting for my son to need his money–I have 20k in an ESA for school–or need to move out of his Dad’s 403-square-foot apartment. I suppose that he may just move in his gf’s parents’ big house. They’re really wealthy. He met her in his DBT treatment. I could see him getting others to take care of him. He really doesn’t like to do much with the exception of watch YouTube and Netflix.
However, with intimate partners, I want to keep it simple and respectful. I want to have intentional time together that is mutually carved out. I want to take care of myself as well as I can now. As a 48-year-old person, I think that it’s time for me to be the best person that I can be so that I can add to others’ lives and they can enhance mine.
My son was supposed to live with me one more year in this big house.
On Wednesday I took my cat to the groomers. I read many pages of “Far From the Tree” while I ate green chili hash. I also walked about 3-miles. When I finally got ahold of my son on the way home he said that his girlfriend said sorry that she didn’t see me and goodbye. When I got home he said, “Don’t ever mention my weight in front of my partner again.” I said, “You two got home from the Thrift Store yesterday and unrelated to nothing you said, ‘You forced me to play sports’ and I said, ‘It’s good to be active and it impacted your weight positively.'” And he said it to me for the last time. Well, three times, actually.
I texted his Dad, picked up his Dad, we all talked, and he freaked out. And the one room of Hilton that he trashed out constantly is over. I actually found a sub sandwich box, a pizza box with a garlic butter cup, a moldy glass, a plate, and silverware. And this time, three empty beer bottles. We’d had a coherent conversation when I found nearly all my tupperware–some of it has white spores of mold–under his bed with silverware on June 4th before I left for OR. The time for conversations is over. He can move from the couch to the bathroom in his Dad’s two room apartment. He literally does nothing and it’s not possible to motivate him. He’s a high school graduate and needs to be with his father who knows what it’s like to be male.
His Dad lives in a Brownstone on the third floor with a galley kitchen, small table, small living room and one bedroom. He has no car. Not my problem. I am not being told f-you anymore. He’s 17.5, has three parents and my direct tenure has ended. I shut down his savings and checking and called it good. Well, not really, he’d spent a couple thousand dollars this summer so far and has less than $70 to his name. I took it to him with a couple of checks and his Dad can open an account for him.
Time for male influence. I’m not a punching bag. I also can’t live with him because he won’t follow simple rules and never has. He is a lot easier to live with when there’s another adult ego in the house. Honestly, he knows what I’m willing to do. And I’ve saved in an ESA for him since he was 2-months-old. He has 20k which would pay for a year of a state school. I will:
Buy him a car when his Dad will co-sign a loan for $100 for 36-months that I think that he should pay, but it wouldn’t be my loan
Pay any tuition check or electronic statement to school, college or university when he has Cs or better in all classes
Insure him until he’s 26 (medical and dental)
I won’t:
Continue to have him direct profanity at me
Bail him out of jail
Support or help with a kid that he has fathered (outside of living on his own completely and paying all his bills–but you can’t do that at 17)
He called me narcissist and abusive. I know that his girlfriend has a friend who calls social services all the time to try to get out of her house. His current girlfriend has been to residential treatment three times. She also has gotten in two car accidents already and had the last one on Tuesday. He runs with kids who have had lots of years of therapy, and frankly, he has too, and think that their accountability is pretty limited. They’re all either addicted to vaping devices or smoke a ton of pot.
It’s so nice to be in this empty house. Sure, there are a ton of pets here and only the one almost 12-year-old dog is mine, but it’s good to not have someone who begrudgingly cleans the kitchen, sleeps all day, and binges Netflix, YouTube and sometimes Prime and Disney most of the day and typically expects all meals. Sometimes he gets up at 1, so I don’t make but one or two. I changed all the streaming passwords, because these are not a car, school or health. He does coach, and has mostly done cardio with me on Mondays, but I’m just so tired of fighting. He apparently resents the years that he had to play sports and an instrument. Those years ended in 8th grade.
Last night I went to the women’s discussion group. It was wonderful. I made some good connections. On Monday I go to dinner with an author and check out the other group. I also got an invitation to an exclusive formal event on August 20th, which will be with other like-minded folks. Bowling is done until winter. I have guitar. I’ll have a mini-golf team this fall.
I’m still not going to swipe.
Yesterday my best friend and I swept all the masonry in the back garden. She fell in love with the view, the creek that feeds into the river, and the garden. She had her husband come over and work the numbers with their loan officer. They want to buy a house for their kids. The realtor came by and photographed all the issues with workmanship. She hugged my best friend and went to hug me and I said, “I’m way too sweaty. I’m a dirty hippy right now.” She said, “She is sweaty too; I felt it.” I laughed and said, “She’s definitely glistening.” Then they both complimented each other on their outfits.
She told me what the next steps are. We should be able to do a walk through on the weekend, but I can’t personally on Monday because I work all day and have dinner with the author and a group. The realtor leaves for Germany on Tuesday. She’ll been in France and Spain next to walk the Camino. I think that she’s back mid-August. I’d imagine that we sell the house either to my best friend, or sometime at the end of summer.
She’s so competent and sexy. My best friend told me that she’s going to tell her that I like her and I said, “Don’t. We’ve been through that. When we hike the summit, I’ll bring the Ballet Dancer so I have a buffer.” She said, “You’re going to have to start hugging her. That’s just her.”
ARG. It sucks sometimes to just be attracted to women. It will be interesting to be back at work and see the climber. She always misses the first two weeks of work because of Burning Man. I really hope that by then I’ve had some dates. Again, I’m not going to force anything, but it would be nice to have some kissing–not sweaty hugs though.
I can stop the three jobs that I have currently in six-years. I want to work outside and also want to work 20-hours a week. I think that with the bank holidays I have 16-weeks off every year, and really have no idea how people have 2 or none. My work wears me out. I don’t see myself retiring for another 17-years, but I do see myself working way less. I’ll be so excited not to have a mortgage in 6-years too. I think that I can start pulling from my pension when I’m 59-and-a-half, which is about 10-and-a-half-years from right now.
The house looks pretty good. I went over there last night before my guitar class. To me, it’s just making sure that the carpet is ok, the carport security door has been fixed, and there is damage to the closet door (hollow core) in the basement bedroom now. Otherwise, I know that the new Project Manager would like all outlet covers and light switch plates matching and are, well, on. I think that they put silicon on the wasp hole. There was zero activity. I saw one more Chinese Elm in the day lilies, and think that we should buy a few plants for the garden beds, and my best friend is going to help with that tomorrow morning. I may put Round Up in the driveway on the cracks. If there is any chance of rain or any wind, I won’t. I don’t use it at my house because of butterflies and bees, but where the house that I’m selling is there are mostly lawns and such. People don’t seem to think about impact over there. Hopefully, the realtor and I can complete the final walkthrough with the company this week. Hopefully, she won’t hug me.
Yesterday marked a year from when my son has to move out of my house. After he does I’m going to take everything out of my house. I want a fresh start and whole vibe here. The porch extension will start that feeling. I’d like to begin that in May of next year so that it’s done before the heat ensues.
Climate change is really odd here in the desert. We have just begun extremities. The spring was incredibly wet, and once we were a month into summer, we started having extreme heat. I think that means that some March seasons we could get 4-5 feet of snow. It melts here because of our elevation, but that will be another extremity.
Last night I woke up right at midnight and was super hot. I think that it was 79 in my house. I noticed that my son and his girlfriend weren’t home yet and was surprised. I went back to my room and heard them about 10-minutes later and then they were gone. I texted and called him and they went to the gas station to get snacks. Teenagers are so gross. I really struggle with his huge stomach. I wish that he cared, but he doesn’t, and he has a really nice face so girls don’t seem to care either. He said that they had fun dancing. I doubt that I’ll see him before I leave this morning. I have to take our long haired cat to the groomers and plan to walk for about 45-minutes and then I’m going to read. We’ll see what he talks about with respect to the climber when I see him before I go bowling.
Years ago when my son was breaking laws and getting into trouble at school I heard a book review of “Far from the Tree,” and then I read more about the book. I finally ordered it as a used copy. If you’ve never used abebooks, you really should because you just pay to have books shipped to you. You can get almost anything for a few dollars. Anyway, it is so thick! It’s also great. I have just started the chapter on deafness. It would be great if I could finish it by August 13th. After that day, I’m back in the work tunnel!
It takes me awhile to put things together. I’m reflecting on the demise of my parents today. My Dad has been gone three years, and my Mom just over a year-and-a-half.
I mentioned that I’m on Slack now. It’s been fruitful–good connections. Last night during bowling our other teammate asked if I was dating or swiping or anything and I told her that I’m not. I’m actually fine being solo too. My divorce isn’t even a year finalized yet, and I know that will be a shift for me. Today I’m climbing with my friend and going out later to sing. The weather is disgusting. The night before I woke up at 4 and the house was 80 and this morning I woke up at 5 and the house was 81. It’s 71 right now; I’ll see if I can get it a bit lower in here. I have a large attic fan. I can buy a new cooler for the whole house (roof) next spring. I’ll shop around too. There’s gotta be one less than 10k installed, right?
Back to Slack. People wrote about aging and dying parents. I figured it was time for me to process in writing.
My Mom shattered her shoulder in 2014. My Dad called me at work and I had to tell my Boss that I was leaving early. She was a bit shitty about it, but my Dad sounded terrible on the phone. I rushed over there. My Mom was laying on the floor and looked ashen and gray. It was probably her 12th fall. The fire department had been getting irritated with her, because they had to help her all of the time. I asked her where it hurt and she said in her right arm. My mother had been paralyzed on her left side most of her life. I never knew her to be able to use her left side at all and she walked with a limp. This disability called hemiplegia was a result of a stroke that she had when she was in college at the age of 21.
Back to the floor in 2014. I didn’t want to move her; although, my Dad kept saying to please pick her up or help him do so. I stayed until the Fire Department got there and she winced when they put her back in her wheelchair. I heard a pop too. They transported her to the hospital, I think. Or she followed up that week. I don’t remember. I do remember seeing the x-ray and the doctor saying, “You just hurt looking at that,” where the socket was and bone shards were floating. They never operated. They had excuses. One time she went for surgery and hadn’t been off two of her medications long enough so they sent her home. Then she got the run around. Her one, good, usable arm could eventually be raised to almost shoulder level. Of course her other side was still paralyzed. I tried to work, finish my dissertation, parent, and attend to a new marriage while doing all these things for my parents.
She survived a stroke. She survived losing her son at the age of 39. She survived her childhood. She survived a terrible marriage. She survived that fall. She survived COVID. Then for the next year-and-a-half, she disappeared. Her voice got smaller and smaller. I used to visit her every week. During COVID it was phone calls for three-months, but with her tiny voice I couldn’t hear her. Then the staff broke rules and opened her window, put her ten feet back, I wore doubled masks and talked to her 6-feet through the window. I don’t think that I got to be next to her for 9-10 months.
I had gotten married a month before my Mom shattered her shoulder. One time, my Mom was in either the hospital or rehab as she was for three-years at intervals all the time, and my son, my wife and I had flu. We couldn’t move. They were both throwing up, and I was just achy, in bed, stomach churning for days in December during my vacation. I couldn’t get ahold of my Dad on the phone. My wife called her mother and her mother’s boyfriend and said that she would sanitize a key and put it in the mailbox. When they got to my Dad, he was on the floor covered in pee. They sat him up, gave him a glass of water that he gulped, and then he drank two more. He had the same flu. If they hadn’t gotten there when they did, he probably would have died on the floor. He went to the hospital. These things are the way in which people blow through 225k. For years you pay co-pays, a few thousand for your portion of 3-9 days in rehab, caretakers in your home, and then 11 – 15k per month for skilled nursing until you have 3,000k to your name.
All that to say that when the house sells, I’m meeting with my attorney to get my affairs in order. My parents had a will and all documents, but it didn’t help them ultimately. My son will not be my POA or MPOA like I was via my parents’ Durable Power of Attorney. They never asked me. They just did that. I had just turned 40 and had to try to do things that I was legally required to do.
I’m setting up a scholarship which will be permanent in my brother’s name this fall which will pay fall and spring. I’ll put 7,500 in my IRA every year, and when I’m 62, I’ll start paying out 12,000 every year to my son. I’m starting to pay for long-term care insurance this year or next at the latest. I need my Attorney to advise me with which company and the like. I’m changing my will too. I’m getting a DNR right now. I need to see options for people who don’t have a Durable Power of Attorney. That won’t be my son.
I feel so much better today compared to the way that I felt yesterday. I was just heavy and low.
Zumba was actually cute. I’m still hideous, but don’t care one bit. My son went with me! He is actually a really good dancer so although he had no clue about the steps and turns, he just danced his ass off! He got in the car in an “Iron Maiden” t-shirt which is so funny. He dresses like the boys that I hung out with on the smoking pad (patio) next to our lunchroom in high school, but tends to wear very tight jeans. He had on his plaid wool cap too. He looked a bit like Matt Dillon in “Singles” as well. I put my foot down and made him change into the sweatpants that I bring in the car, which are usually for when I pick him up in the morning at a friend’s house and he smells like death. I have drum sticks and a North Face t-shirt too that I keep in my car. I thanked him for dancing with me. He’ll dance with his current girlfriend at the climber’s house on the 25th too. I’m so glad he’s moving. It has been so alarming to watch him gain so much weight since the pandemic.
I finished “Broken Horses.” Although I really don’t desire ever to speak to my ex-wife again, I’m so grateful that she introduced me to Brandi Carlile. We saw her 5 times together, I think. She’s phenomenal and her book is so raw, vulnerable, and authentic. It makes you want to chill with her.
I have book club this afternoon. “The Devil’s Rooming House” was really good. I like to read books that are put together with research and don’t get into the psychology very heavily, because then I can do diagnostic decision trees in my head while I read it. Not that I would ever want to touch murderer’s diagnoses, but it’s fun intellectually. I’ll leave that stuff to people like James Garbarino.
I think that some of my mood was because my son was so nice. He walked the dogs with me on Friday night, and went to Zumba. He rarely does anything without being asked. And, I have to be on his ass constantly about doing his laundry and ordering his room before he leaves to be with his girlfriend. He was nice for many hours and then spent the day with his Dad, and I really don’t have money right now to go out, so I read, weeded, and hung out with my pets. I think that yesterday was just derivative mostly of the quiet reflection and some of the things that I’m going through currently are in fact, sad.
I refilled my shower gel and met a sweet runt Norwegian Elk Hound and the proprietor told me that her name is Smokey and that she has so many nicknames that Smokey is just one of her names. I told her about the name cluster chart for one of my cats, and she got it. That is the first time that anyone has understood how nicknames can have other off shoots from other nicknames and why I’d have a chart of that. She was my brand of weirdo. I love weirdos.
I thought about my Mom.
I thought about my son.
I thought about how I’m a weirdo and that was one thing that my ex-wife just got.
I thought about how weird it is that I’ll be selling this house soon.
The good thing was that my sad, psychic energy reached my mentor. She texted me out of the blue with my sign-in note from her art show that she had in 2015 or so. Then she sent me some of her work that she’ll be showing soon in Santa Fe. I saw something that no one had. After a bit she asked how I was and I said pretty low today. She said that she was glad to connect in those valleys. I love her. She’ll be traveling soon, and I’ll get to see her. I’m really lucky.
I guess that I better use a little bit of this momentum and walk my dogs and scoop litter. Then I can lift before I shower and go to book club. I don’t know if I’ll see (except briefly) my son until afternoon. He’s walking home from his Dad’s apartment in a couple of hours. I’ll cook chicken piccata tonight. I think that I’ll have him bike with me to Whole Foods to select a veggie. Costco didn’t have brussels sprouts when we went on Friday, and that was a small tragedy. Again, I own that I’m a weirdo.
These are some drawings that my Dad did which I found in a footlocker one time
Dinner was good and because we were the second group of people there on Saturday night, service was swift. The appetizers came out within typical timing and our food was maybe 20-minutes after that. The pacing was weird, because I didn’t get mine right away, but it was delicious and we weren’t there long–just over an hour. Then I took my son bowling. Bowling is soooo expensive outside of league. It’s ok.
For some reason, I got an extra $90 from the University this month, which always makes the alimony bite better when I see extra money. There are 3 payments left folks, and I have already written in the Exclusive Right to Sell Document on Thursday that some of the money goes in a cashier’s check. I’ll get the title company to send that to my ex-wife and then this chapter finally closes. I think that it will be about a year from when my divorce finalized.
We picked up Maryland at his house and had a nice ride up to the trailhead. We even got a parking spot which was shocking! I had never been up there in the spring. There were some really muddy areas from the brook that feeds out of the canyon and there was a really pretty flower just blooming. Google Lens wasn’t working because no one had signal.
Pretty mountain flower
I had packed turkey, Swiss, and romaine sandwiches for us all. Then my son wanted me to store his raincoat, so I told him to put it in my backpack with my water bladder and first aid stuff and he threw a sandwich on the trail and blamed me for not having it wrapped well in aluminum foil. I told him to pick it all up and had to keep telling him where pieces of it were and he got so pissed about me not wrapping food correctly–mind you it was securely in my backpack–that he charged ahead of us. That was fine.
Maryland and I had great conversation. He said, “So, you’re returning to polyamory.” I said, “I’m trying not to mess up. I had a quad that only the girl and I knew about in college and it was unethical. And then I was in a Vee in 2009-2010. In fact, she was the first person that I thought of when I got divorced. I texted her, ‘How are you? I’m divorced.’ But, she wound up being really sick so she had to stay in her marriage because her wife has good medical insurance.” I told him my ideal would be a couple of married women who had girlfriends as younger people and are in a long-term marriage and not doing well with bisexuality, so they’ve talked with their husbands about opening up. I told him that I don’t see myself as a threat to a man. I’m direct, authentic, open and would never want to break up a marriage. I just like having girlfriends. He told me that I’m the unicorn. He also told me to get on an app. That won’t happen.
The climber would scurry and solo this stuff all the way up the top piece of granite.
Maryland has been polyamorous since college. He is in a year-long relationship with a partner who is my age. I think she’s probably just a little older than me judging from the way that she looks. He loves her and considers her his primary partner. She loves him and is solo poly. I think that I’ve discovered that people who make a decent amount of money and have a house identify more with being solo poly. The words seemed loaded. Eg. “My money is mine and I don’t cohabitate.” His partner brought him over to me at karaoke and introduced us and then she said, “I’m going to mingle.” He had gotten my phone number and then we texted and made these plans. I think that we’ll camp this summer too. I enjoy his company very much. He’s also sweet. He texted, “Ok, good to know. Yes, definitely feeling it but that was good,” after I’d texted him our mileage. I texted back, “Hahahaha. Me too! I got nine-years on ya, too,” and sent the sleeping head and grandma emoji. He texted back, “You rock it,” with the starry eyed emoji and a pine tree. I prayer handed that text. He’s going to be a very close friend to me. I’m very happy.
Today I have high tea at the Indian tea house. I wonder if liquor stores are open today? I want to add a bottle of Scarpetta Rosé to the candle and bath bombs for the ballet dancer. Hopefully, they’re open. I have to pick up her best friend out here before we go to the other city. Her best friend wrecked her car. She’s a lesbian too, so I’m looking forward to chatting with her. I told the ballet dancer because she’s newly out, I could be like a mentor to her. I’ve been out 16-years this fall.
I’m going to do yard work and organizing today before the birthday party at high tea. I have to have the house more manageable before I leave for Oregon. It’s pretty disorganized and the yards are actually insane because of all the spring rain. The yards at my house are ridiculous. Like other things from the 50s that I don’t agree with is not limited to all kinds of Kentucky bluegrass everywhere surrounded a brick ranch in the desert. I have mulch and a xeriscape up front and have a tiny patch of tall fescue in the back. I’m doing no mow May though, so it’s also crazy. It’s going to take forever on Thursday to cut it.
Has anyone seen “Indecent Proposal?” Robert Redford gives a couple a million dollars to have a night with I think Woody Harrelson’s wife… Is it Demi Moore? I can’t recall, actually. It fucks up their marriage entirely. I don’t want transactional intimacy. I want a couple of girlfriends. I want to do what I want that doesn’t involve sex, and want to always kiss who I want to kiss. With girlfriends, it would be wonderful to be friends with husbands too, because I really feel at ease around men. They don’t make my heart race or make me feel fluttery.
Maryland, who is so cool, and doesn’t make me feel anything but respect and companionship told me about the relationship smorgasbord. I don’t love this podcast, but have listened to 3-5 of them, and found the graphic in the podcast of the relationship smorgasbord that I want to include in this blog about my weekend and reflections on transactional sex.
Maryland is a Companionship / Playfulness and Emotional Intimacy relationship. The ballet dancer is also Companionship / Playfulness but there is some level or hierarchy given our age difference–Power / Hierarchy on the graphic. I think that will be the same with her best friend. The climber does some communication dynamics and is Romantic with some manner of Emotional Intimacy. Maryland was correct, as this graphic is really helpful with conceptualizing relationship. My best friend and I cross over so many areas on this graphic, so you can see visually the import of our connection.
Yesterday, I had gotten my son an hour early to the venue, so walked around a little bit. I had some errors in the paperwork that I need to address going forward regarding ensuring a phrasing in client goals so my colleague talked to me about that. I told him that I would ensure that I had phrases about specific classes or careers going forward. Then the colleague who told me that she was too busy to work with a client came in and I realized that my colleague was thinking that I was like her. Beyond reproach. Can’t take feedback. That’s not me in the slightest. I mess up, make mistakes and try to improve every single day that I’m graced with life. I still feel like I could punch the other colleague that wouldn’t meet with the client, so I think that I’ll talk to her about that in August or September. Not seeing her for ten-weeks will be very nice.
My son talked about being a COVID high schooler in his speech. He then transitioned to talking about dropping out and making the best decision that he could by transferring to a small, tight-knit high school wherein you’d be checked in on all the time. Finally, he thanked the Principal, the Mental Health Provider and each of his teachers personally with a few sentences. They were really touched. He tied up by addressing the fellow graduates. His class was small: 58; and I think had he not dropped out of the comprehensive high school that he attended he would have been one of about 400 next May. We went to a pizza place that is a chain, but does brew beer and sat around with my cousin, her husband, his Godfather and two kids, our neighbors who are now so much like family to my son and I, a mother from his school in 6th grade and her child and several of his friends. It was a nice couple of hours. I printed thank you notes today and have some envelopes that were left over so I made notes in Word wherein I wrapped the thank you font text with a loyalty-free mortar board on it, folded the notes and cut them so they fit the envelopes.
I was looking at his diploma yesterday and got really choked up seeing my brother’s name where my son’s middle name is on the heavy stock paper. It’s so weird to me that my brother never graduated. My parents weren’t at my son’s graduation. Neither were his Dad’s parents because they attended their other grandson’s graduation out of state which was the same day. That makes sense. It’s legitimately that grandson’s graduation year. It’s not like I want to have a large amount of people around, but it’s still weird. Like I’ve written before, I had a typical nuclear family for a child of Boomers with me and my brother. At 47, there was only me left.
I like my son’s current girlfriend. He had a couple more and now feels like he’s settling on this one, and I like her best if that sticks. My son has done his fair share of cheating. And, the love of his life, got back with him by saying that they were undefined, but exclusive and then made out with one of his good friend’s friends. So, he has some relationship baggage already at the age of 17. I’ve been talking to him about ethical non-monogamy. I think that he’s listening too. The only time lately that he is hostile and vile is when he can’t bully me into getting his way. He wants to store nicotine vapes in my garage, and I don’t want to smell rotten Kool-Aid odor when I grab my bike helmet off of the shelf. His argument took shape as a gaslighting bully; however, these events are few and far between, so I’ll take it.
Parenting is often a real treat. I can’t wait to be an empty nester. It’s really soon–14-months away. I’m willing to cook for him and a significant or friend when he prearranges that with me, and I’m willing to take him to Costco. I’ll insure him for dental and medical, pay for a flip phone, and also will write any tuition check that he produces. Otherwise, he’ll just have to figure it out. He’s tall, good looking, smart, charming and talented, so he doesn’t really need anything that he doesn’t ask for. He used to tune me out completely and then after two citations he started realizing that I’m not totally full of shit. Again, he can be a bully on occasion, but it’s rare.
I think that mainly what you can wish for is that your children have it a little better than you did. According to Putnam (2015) that won’t happen though. I’m just hoping like I told my best friend from work when I was talking to her on the phone today that I can pay into long-term health insurance and all he’ll have to do is interview a CNA, check on me to have dinner that someone prepares once a week, and then do a simple probate when I’m gone. I don’t want him to go through anything that I did. And, I also don’t ever want an intimate partner wiping my ass.
There is a picture of a radish on a blog that I read, and I also have some Asian radishes that I need to finish in my refrigerator. Has anyone seen “Living on One Dollar?” Growing radishes is featured in that documentary, which is quite good. A study of participants trying to complete an impossible tracing task involved chocolate chip cookies and radishes is featured in a small video from Fast Company (the Heath brothers). Are radishes healthy?
I’m sometimes not. I get obsessed with sports and pretend that I can play them with giant men. Thus, a blown quad. Enter currently the still healing pinky. It’s called denying your own limitations. It’s part of the unhealthy realm of the 8 as measured by the Enneagram. Eights at their worse can self-destruct because although they’re a body type who are physical; they tend toward pushing their bodies. I have been thinking about watching the climber fall asleep in a meeting, falling asleep in my car on the commute home, how grouchy she can respond to people when she’s obviously tired. The latter likely has to do with being woken up when you’re going to finally get rapid eye movement which you need for health. It’s scary that she put her car in park while driving down a street and fell asleep at the wheel. Denial. I deny that I’ll be 49 in September and get joy out of how well I pitch in kickball. The climber denies a need for sleep. Eights are given to excess and denial when they’re behaving unhealthy.
I had quite the nightmare. After my son gets out of the shower whilst playing music that I listened to in high school, but from his district-provided laptop, I’ll tell him about it. A bookkeeper who I know called me and said, “Your boy didn’t go to his final today. He’s left the building.” His Dad called me and said that he picked him up near one of the highways and that right before he was to take a final for Spanish that a friend said that he should enroll in a high school GED program. I asked why and told my son that he doesn’t need a full program having passed all the practice tests, and he couldn’t give me a straight answer that made sense. Yikes. Terrifying. And unhealthy. How do we all stay healthy?
I sang on Saturday night and met a really nice woman. The music teacher got her number. She was fun to talk to and very smart. I think that she was close to the music teacher’s age. Speaking of youngsters–the woman from the climbing class texted and we hiked on Sunday! We asked a fellow hiker if we were on the loop though, and we weren’t, so that was funny. I told her that we’d pay a fellow trailblazer for a ride to the other trailhead. She said that on All Trails we’d hiked for 5.5-miles! This really nice mountain biker went and got gas and then took us up the canyon. It was so cool of him and I Venmo’ed him $10 and then my new young friend sent me $5. She is having a birthday party at a teahouse over Memorial Day. Such a fun connection for me! She’s going to talk to my son about IT too. My son was Prom King on Saturday night. I’m so glad that he’s graduating.
The nice guy walked to my house and we three made good time in. When we had our morning meeting our Boss said that the climber was running late. I had lunch with everyone and took my lake walk. We have an absolutely awful meeting every Monday afternoon, and this one was only slightly better. With the exception that I learned from our Boss that the climber is late 2-3 times every week, and that the nice guy was sleeping, and that the woman with whom I share an office this year wouldn’t meet with me and a client feigning “too busy,” I was fine in the meeting. Then I was just grossed out at the lack of professionalism and entitlement. Gross.
There are professional lines at work, and I would be a terrible boss because I’d fire everyone. It’s good that I do what I do. I had to talk to the climber about memory and learning trials given one of our clients. It went well and she was interested. I didn’t feel sparks. I did smile back at her and she smiled a lot at me, but I think because she mentions plans and doesn’t do anything to follow through that she is moving to a comet for me. I used to think of her as a satellite because of seeing her weekly, but with the amount of Mondays that she misses it was already getting like a comet. Not that I chase. Now, I just am doing my thing three more times until late summer.
Speaking of which, the nice guy and I were driving home together and the climber was next to us on the highway. We paced her to be funny and also were waving our arms. She was texting! On the highway. She didn’t see us. Eventually we were on the street and did get her to look over with honking, yelling, and waving get her attention. I told her we’d been with her on the highway when she rolled down her window and she seemed a little embarrassed. I told her that her texts must have been interesting. The nice guy said that her driving often scares him. He told a bunch of stories. He also told me that she fell asleep at the wheel once and he had to clap by her face! The nice guy told her that she is going to have to start sleeping at night. It does explain being late 2-3 days a week. He also said that she had accidentally put her car into park when it was running and it was after that it became unfixable. Apparently, she met him in the copy room and asked him if we were mad at her. He told her that we weren’t and he always assumed that we commute Mondays so he walked to my house because I leave earlier. I’d never be interested being late 2-3 times a week.
I told him that I would love to be involved as a girlfriend in a couple of marriages. I acknowledged that it was a complete unicorn hunting episode, but said that it would be so cool if a couple of women who had been married awhile couldn’t deal well without a relationship with a woman given their bisexuality and made a consensual, ethical arrangement. He told me that it wasn’t unicorn hunting at all, and that my talking about it was giving it life. He told me to get on the app, Her, because that arrangement is super common. I told him that there was no way that I would ever do apps. Maybe someday I’ll blog about the cowgirl and flute player more specifically, but apps don’t work well for me. I’m organic.
My son and I did our cardio and my best friend was walking into the gym! She had a box of materials with her. She was going to throw clay in the studio. It was so nice to see her. She complimented my physique. I see her on Saturday to help her get furniture moved because her parents are coming. We’ll clean too. It was funny that the day was all about bisexuality and that a new friend here on WordPress was saying that polarized thinking is inflexible. It is. It’s a scale. Lots of women lean toward the middle on Kinsey.
It would be so cool to find some 5-6 scale women on either or both coasts and some 3-4 women who have an open understanding with their husbands. We shall see!
I did wind up hanging out with the doctoral group at the bar last night. I was the only one from our group who sang though. Energy was ok and I guess I’ll be a designated driver for the cardiologist’s friend next Saturday to go dancing. She is fun. She didn’t sing though, but was supportive to me. The nice guy came and stayed almost two hours and sang. He’s amazing. There is a nice blond woman who will be a friend to me too that came last night. The Social Butterfly came and was supportive. I sang two songs and did well with both.
I’m not going to write about karaoke this morning.
I had a dream about a pickleball tournament. You had to race sports cars to get to the tournament. I was in a blue one with my son and it was really difficult to drive. I was finally able to get it to the venue that also had a lodge. My son and I had some trouble deciding where to set up in the big room that we shared with other tournament contenders, but decided that there were so many windows that all spaces for the bed would be good. When we got out of the room, an orange compact Prius pulled up and my ex-wife was in the back of it and got out. Then her twin sisters got out and, finally, her mother. I knew that we’d have to hug and talk and was surprised, but ultimately neutral.
My ex-husband told me that dreams are downloads. I guess that is true, but there is meaning in them too. My ex-wife’s former neighbor at the condo that she bought dropped off some art that she had in her condo. My ex-wife was always redecorating, rearranging and reappropriating things from rooms. I didn’t get the door because I was in the basement and my colleague’s daughter was upstairs. I figured that my ex-wife was in town emptying her condo. I told my son that was likely the case and asked if he would like to see and call her. He called her right away when we were driving to the Post Office needing to weigh his returns to make sure that he didn’t need extra postage. She answered right away and said she wasn’t in town, but sold her condo and was getting out family heirlooms. He said that he would call her later and I think that they talked last night. I’m glad he’s in touch with her. She did a lot of parenting of him.
I had a good run of activities and socializing with my days off of work. I feel pretty solid about where I am going with my life and what I am doing with it. I have a busy morning. I think that I’ll wake up my son now and ask him to please clean the kitchen that he left a mess and walk the dogs with me. Then I’m going to make Trader Joe’s hashbrowns in the oven and some homemade chicken quesadillas. I’ll do my weight machines at the gym and he can get cleaned up. Then I’m going to my Boss’ birthday party and will do what I never do and that’s talk to all kinds of new people. I want to get some pre-arranged dates in the queue.
The wind died down! Woo-hoo. It was so depressing. I still was able to walk 230,460 steps for March, which was good for me as of late. I bike a ton so often that’s why my step count is lower. January and February were so trying for me because I couldn’t really cycle much. I had never truly known how much of my self-care is wrapped up in riding my bike. I have this thing wherein I like my walking and cycling to add up to more hours than being in a car. I failed miserably last month:
I had a bunch of fun with my friend yesterday at lunch. I drank two IPAs. I had the best charred chicken wings ever too. I told her that I have a goal of love for others. She said, “Like polyamory?” I answered in the affirmative. She said, “What if you meet an incredible woman and she wants you to be hers exclusively?” I told her that I would say that she is a great woman and if that is what she wants she deserves someone to feel that same way about her and build something exclusive together. When I have just written out what she asked me, my stomach truly turned the strong, black coffee that I consume every morning. There is something revolting to me about possession of a person.
I do think that marriage is a great idea. When I got married in 2014, I wanted two egos in the house–as I am forever seeking balance and have it tattooed on right bicep–to help raise my son well. She did so many things for him. I really hope that if he does get done with high school midway through next month that he calls and tells her. I would have stay married to her too; although, like I told my friend yesterday, she did wind up crying 3-4 days inconsolably weekly in the last year that she lived with me. She struggles with health and wellness. I wish her well, and am grateful to her that I finished my doctorate with her help. She will get $82,500 for it, and then I will consider our chapter completely written.
I don’t want to remarry. I don’t want to cohabitate. I also truly believe that I can be in love with 2-3 women concurrently. My friend was obviously intrigued by how that could be. I told her that I had 15-years of my writing, so it’s not like a new concept to me. Speaking of which, look what I found this week:
“I wonder if I can be very attracted to several girls at once,” as written by ______ on January 17, 2013. That’s because I always am. So, as I wrote about in March as written by the brilliant screenwriter Cameron Crowe, “So what’s love?” To me it’s being moved mind, body and soul. The soul thing is consuming and pervasive. I’ve felt in twice in my life. One lasted a few months and another lasted years. I’m fine with no sex until those three conditions are met.
My friend recommended “Attached” and there are 22 holds, so I used gift cards and ordered it. I can bike to pick it up tomorrow. I’ll give it to someone after I read it. Obviously, people are wrestling with their attachments if there are currently 22 active holds.
My colleague who almost died is in FL as I mentioned and we have her daughter. Her daughter is a year younger than my son and lightyears more advanced emotionally. I don’t know why. Anyway, she talked to me last night about her attachment to her mother and how mother-daughter relationships are complicated. Mine really wasn’t. My Mom and I only fought when she told me that I was putting on heirs going to my first round of graduate school. We weren’t the same after that, but we still had a foundation and she was my touchstone and safe point. I know that she wasn’t a treat to come out to, but we had an uncomplicated foundation that is difficult to completely explain.
I sang on Thursday and some members of my doctoral group and the nice guy from work and his girlfriend and I are singing tonight. I called the dance studio and no one is there until Monday. I may drop in there on Monday. I don’t work very much on Monday anyway. My son and my colleague’s daughter practiced a little bit last night and we taught her some chords. She has an electric guitar at home. I was so grateful that she entertained my son last night. I was also grateful that my son’s Dad went through his Federal and State returns and found an exclusion for tax rate because someone claims him as a dependent. I am looking forward to my Boss’ birthday party tomorrow. Her sister is an artist and has a huge poly community. I’ll definitely be chatting with her!
Finally, I read an article in the US version of “International Business Times” about April Fool’s Day. It likely started when folks migrated from the Gregorian calendar to the Julian calendar. There have been several types of spring jest as well. Sometimes sending someone on a fool’s errand or dressing up to make fun of the powerful is part of April Fool’s Day. All of those historical reference points seem good for a night doing karaoke with physicians and professors!
I have a picture of him with his tiny fist pumping in the air, jumping off the stairs from the front of his school where he attended a full-day early childhood education program–like pre-kindergarten. Today is the first of 47-days. He is no longer a hobbit-sized tow-headed Energizer Bunny. He stood in his egress window smoking cigarettes on Sunday night until I woke up. He always shuts down and says, “Send me back to my Dad.” It took about an hour on Sunday night and he finally shifted. He said that he was petting our tortie in the basement and saw the shelf with all the books that I used to read him and teared up. He and I could go to family therapy twice a week. He doesn’t have an off-cycle. He’s defiant and often very rude. I just want him to finish high school. He hates it and needs to be done. Today feels like my first day too.
The climber did get sick. I don’t know if she has COVID. The nice guy who also commutes once a week with us does. I was disappointed to not get her all to myself in the car. That could only happen now in the afternoon one day or possibly May 22nd through early June. However, I must note that she said that we need to go back to our climbing spot two-weeks ago and directly invited me to the indoor ice climbing gym last Monday. She sent me pictures of her in a crack way up some giant sandstone formation and a sunset picture on Sunday when I sent her a small text re: I’ll pick you up and text when I leave my house at 7:20. We seem good. I want a get together though.
Vegan texted me yesterday. It said that she hoped that my week was off to a great start and that it was wonderful meeting up on Friday and having the introduction to Green Goddess dressing. I texted back that when she heals, I want to climb with her. She is accepting and will be a good climbing partner–just can’t kiss or hug her.
I’m not going to ever text GA again. If she comes to my city, I hope that she gets ahold of me. I would call her if my partner-in-prowl and I do a workshop in GA, but that’s it. I’ll get tall redhead’s number if I ever see her again. I’m excited for guitar class tonight. Spring is on it’s way; although it’s cold as shit. Today could mark the first day of the rest of my life.
My wife and I had gotten married in NM where it was legal. One of her sisters was pregnant at the time. She and I had toyed with her carrying a baby that we would be parenting together. You know: give my son a sibling. We all stayed in a huge condo together in NM and cooked meals together and the like. Listening to her sister and her husband romanticize and frankly, idealize and fantasize about parenting propelled me into talking through what parenting is with my wife on the 5-hour drive home. We decided not to have kids.
I’ve worked 72-81 hours a week lots of weeks. I’m actually a workhorse. People call me that. Working is really easy, and I am able to do a lot of it. Parenting involves active and psychic burdens daily. Sometimes hourly. Is he going to vape in the bathroom on this co-located campus with younger students? Is he going to get distracted and avoid class and work that he has to complete for graduation? Who knows?
I’m sure that some people have kids who go to class, work, and do chores. I’m sure that exists. I can imagine that there are those who do not actively defy just like breathing in and out. That hasn’t been my experience. He actually tried to bust out of my womb when he was 8-months in utero. I have permanent scars around my ribcage that look like blue lines wherein he would push his feet anytime I was sitting.
My son’s best friend since probably about 4th grade was here last night. I was so peopled out that I had to escape: wash my car, find the cat litter that is difficult to find, get some vegetables, etc. because I didn’t want to catch up with his Mom for an hour or sometimes more. She had her daughter at 17, and so she’s much younger than I am. We don’t have a thing in common. Actually, now that I think about it, she’s probably the same age as the climber. I didn’t want to talk though because I talked with people all week. Originally, my son’s best friend was going to come and go. I thought that he was driving and he is licensed; although my own son is three-months older than he is, but his Mom didn’t want him driving so far. His family moved counties when my son was in 6th grade and he’s known him since 1st. They were laughing and my son was showing him the guitar that I rented for my son and they were having a great time. Hearing my son laugh was so great. I can make him laugh a little, but he’s not generous with laughter. I know it’s part of the depression that he deals with as well. His best friend stayed the night. I made southern chicken sandwiches, sweet potato fries and a monstrous salad. I left it out and will eat it tonight before dodgeball.
I also got three rounds of rapid eye movement. I can remember three rounds of dreams. I feel so, so good. It also was nice on Friday night to get hit on. And not by a man! By a super young, blond, blue-eyed, very feminine, ex-Rugby player with a slight southern accent. Fun. I actually looked terrible Friday night and didn’t have on one bit of makeup. I also never would have approached her to talk, because I was just chillin’ in the gay bar, which is something that I like to do. I’ve known the owner for 15-years and talked to her as well. It’s where I prowl with my friend.
Speaking of which, I need to work through more modules to update one of my trainings. It’s probably 5-10 hours of content. I’m motivated to do it though because the particular training is such a good one. These other two workshops can be a little dry. I need to really get familiar with the content so I can bring my charm. I can’t dance. However, I would say that I’m one of the best public speakers period. My partner-in-prowl has done these workshops probably more than I have. I’ve probably given about 3-6 times via the one that I’ve been endorsed in for the last 8-years, and have given close to 20 in the one that I like. During convention, I got a new one and am a virgin for it. It’s actually called “Provisional.” We should look for places to train in which there is hiking and pretty women.
That’s it! I just feel so good and hopeful. I know that I’m going to meet lots of new women.
I was surprised not to meet any at the convention, but the one night that a vendor had drinks and food was the one in which our old friend had chosen for a dinner out. It’s ok, she lives in CA now where she was born and without her I’d never have met my best friend. I also was intrigued by the best flatiron steak I’ve ever had. I have a couple, so I’m going to read a bunch of tips before I cook it. I make good steak, but this one was like butter. I need to look up some tips before I make my own. I just thought that the convention would be a good place to meet women, but it was more a time for reconnecting with students whom I’ve taught.
I took a 10-mile bike ride yesterday because it was 63-degrees. There is still a lot of ice on trails, but my bike to work route is nearly clear. I can do it in rush hour and will do it Tuesday through Thursday. I feel like I want to bike 30-miles a week to make up for all the commuting that I missed from snow-poc-alypse. I love cycling and tooling around on my bike.
I don’t work Friday or Monday. Friday I’ll have to deal with my parent’s estate and we do have family therapy. I want to talk about goals and rewards for doing work and connecting with teachers rather than leaving campus at lunch and getting high in the parking lot. I texted his godparents to help me. I didn’t want to be a downer during our climbing class in January, so they didn’t know that he dropped out. I wish my son’s Dad was a little more inspiring for my son. It was odd, but my son said last week, “I’d never marry a woman like you. It would be like marrying myself and I would be so angry all the time.” It’s odd because I don’t think that we’re similar. I’m super active and hardworking. I’m not sure what he meant. I’m going to ask what he meant in family therapy. As I was finishing this entry, his godparents were texting me back and they’re going to support me and him. I’m a lucky person.
I process things pretty slow. I’m also long-suffering. Those qualities do not make for a good match in exclusive partnership. Anyway, as I write all of the time as I’ve been doing since last November these features have made me want independence, and to love and enjoy others in specific places and times. I won’t live with someone again until I am in my 80s and need some help from someone younger who I pay with whom I have a business relationship. I will not remarry. I think that monogamy works for a handful of people. I have not been exposed to a marriage that I thought was working for both people in my sphere. I know that they exist, but it always seems like massive sacrifices are made by one person more than the other when I know both people. That is where I am.
I had talked to my ex who is dying slowly on January 21st and was on car adapter through speakers with her and her wife. The conversation was bizarre. It spanned medical procedures and the new cars that they’re thinking about buying. It made sense finally to me why she reconciled with her wife. I guess she was broadcasting their business on Facebook, and talking about their fights and possible divorce. I don’t get on Facebook unless someone tells me that I have to log in: eg. pickleball dues or a post that they need me to address. Didn’t ask how I was. Didn’t inquire about my son who she always says that she adores. I get she’s on a transplant list. I knew all the stuff that had happened via text when I donated to her Go Fund Me. I don’t like cars. I bought a sport utility vehicle in 2008 and still drive it. It was two-years-old. I repair it and put parts in it. I’m not going to hustle down there. I’ll go see them when it’s necessary.
I have a sinus infection. I guess what is going around is bacterial. I’m NOT getting antibiotics. Work was difficult, but definitely not impossible. And then I bought everything and took it for the first time last night, and I slept through the night except to blow my noise once and my throat is good. One night of vitamins and such. I always have Kickass Immune and EmergenC, and still have a little bit of the Chinese herbs that my ex-mother-in-law used to send, but I needed to add these until I felt cessation in sinus pressure and a sore throat:
I COVID tested negative–again–why don’t I get COVID? I have to be careful with zinc. It sends to nauseate me or make me throw up. I think that the sources on the left were more water soluble so it was fine. I also made mushroom risotto, chicken cutlets with panko and kale chips in the oven last night, so I was pretty full when I took these zinc.
I didn’t see the photographer at the art performance. She texted me the next day and said that she was texting with the woman who I was able to sit with–and her boyfriend and a lesbian couple. She said that she was sad not to run into me. So, I’ve texted with her a little bit about the sale of house this summer. I don’t actually want to hike or cycle with her. I want a professional relationship. I saw a few pictures of her recently and didn’t find her attractive. At the beginning of April, we’ll do a walkthrough pending the late afternoon that works for the tenants who pay bills there. I’m not hugging her and will bring my son if I can make it work with his schedule. He’s a good buffer. He’s also very good looking, so he distracts people.
He’s going back to high school. Not his high school, but one in which he can blend online and in person classes. He told me last night that he wants mostly in person classes. I don’t care, and am glad he’ll have a diploma instead of a GED. There still is some stigma. In his case, it’s truly being lazy. I have to hire a driver. Uber and Lyft have too broad a window, and I want him to be on time. He can take the city bus home. His Dad can take him once a week, and I can take him once a week. Hopefully, it won’t be as expensive as his out-of-pocket therapy that ended a week ago was. He has to go to school nine weeks only–not a year-and-a-half. They’ll get his schedule done on Monday. His personal essay for the application said that in 6th grade the friends that he had controlled him rather than knew him, and that COVID killed all his motivation for school. I wonder who else has a student like my son?
I have to study today and also read. I have a training of trainers event on Tuesday and Wednesday and work on Monday and have convention things all day on Thursday and Friday. There is a corporate sponsored party on Tuesday night as well. Maybe I should have my son stay at our house and I should stay in the hotel with an old friend? No, I won’t sleep well and that seems a little bit 20-something. Regardless, I’m excited for the convention.
I was scared of dodgeball. Wham! HUGE gay guys winging the balls against concrete. Everyone was 10-20 years younger than me. Wow. Why did I sign up? I got better as it went on and in our last loss I nailed a guy and it bounced off him, but one of his teammates caught it. Damn. I was the last one on our side. I didn’t go to the bar afterward, but may next Sunday. It’s difficult because I work on Mondays pretty early and have to leave at 7:20. I am going to practice with my son this weekend.
Monday was nice. I went into her office and chatted with her. She noticed the red highlights and I told her that I had the undercut and just turned around and made her lift my hair to examine the mountains and the horizon. She petted the buzz too, which felt nice. I was standing over her desk for awhile too but one of the people who shares with her was there intially, and after that woman left, we talked more. I was wearing a fitted pink shirt. She kept looking at my breasts. I got a little charge out of that and noted it and was glad that I could meet her eyes well, which I can’t always do because then I kept noticing how much she was checking me out.
I worked all morning and then in the afternoon went back to her office. I said, “Your sweater matches your eyes,” and she looked down and smiled big. Then we talked a little she walked out of her office. We stood at the window at the end of the hallway together. We talked and talked. She had never used the ice tool that I had just tried, and said that she knows it’s safer because you don’t have anything sharp. I told her that I was bruised all up so couldn’t wear booty shorts to dodgeball given the bruising from crashing into the wall over and over and she laughed. We talked about work, and I said, “I was thinking that when I was presenting last week that I remembered that you need to imagine the audience in their underwear and wondered if it works in reverse? Except for you, you wouldn’t use imagination, it’s a memory.” She blushed a ton and I said, “Oh, good! That was the effect that I hoped to get–with you blushing,” and she said, “Well, it’s that the heart rate increases.” She was still red so I kept looking at her. She adjourned the conversation and went back to her office eventually, and my partner at work said at the end of the day, “I saw you two talking for a long time!” I didn’t say, it’s because _____ has seen me in my underwear. (Wonder when I’ll have the same thing with her?) I quickly saw some purple ones–she had to take off a base layer under her hiking pants–the night that became 3:40 in the morning of Halloween and the same night she lifted the back of her shirt and I kissed all around a purple sports bra on her sculpted back. However, after the ballet, I was in a bra and underwear for a couple hours in my bed.
I was walking home from the liquor store last week talking to my partner at work and she said, “Would you ever date _____? She does all that white people shit.” and I stopped walking for a second and said, “She’s cute, but she’s really, really busy, and does real outdoor stuff. I couldn’t keep up with much of the stuff that she does and she’s a real dance teacher and dancer. It was fun climbing with her. I certainly would be open to doing something with her again.” All that is true. Again, her ball, her court, and not asking her out again.
I was at work today and was pretty busy. During my mid-day obligation that I have daily at that site I was walking with one of my colleagues whom I adore and she said that she’d been out on two dates. We traded some stories. She’s my ex-wife’s age (three years younger than me). I asked her if she’d date a 32-year-old and she said, “Hell, yes.” I showed her the climber later (us at the ballet) and she said, “She’s cute!” I told her that in two weeks when I’m on convention that I was going to find her a 6’4″ Swedish skier that she can see weekends in Europe. We’re both newly divorced, don’t ever want to remarry, and agree with the appropriate STD testing protocol that you could love and be intimate with 2-3 partners. We both have side work and make good money and have one kid. She likes men. So, I’m going to find her more men for her circle. Not men from my dodgeball league :). She’s a cool person and we always laugh together. I told her that in addition to an STD talk, I don’t want to have sex with any woman whom I’m not in love with. I also told her that I know that I could be in love with 2-3 different women concurrently.
I slept like shit last night. Sunday night was good and last night was tough. My son is with his Dad tonight. He only has to take one more practice test for the GED and his scores have been so high that he doesn’t have to take the full test in a center and can do it at home as long as he does well on the last one that he has. He’s taking that Friday. I’m taking him and his best friend out to dinner tomorrow night. He turns 17.
I think that things could be getting a little easier in all respects. I’m hoping so.
On Friday night I taught and was done at 7, and I was really hungry. My son had been at the music studio and he had met his ex-girlfriend there. I really like her. I don’t like them together. She has poor health in all facets, so I think that he was drawn to her because of my ex-wife honestly who was also in poor health all around. Anyway, we went to dinner. The kids told me that they want to get back together and I said, “That’s not a good idea. You should be good friends, and _______, if you want to break up with ____ you should talk to her. It’s likely impulse and it’s comfortable seeing ___ again.” They listened and considered all of it. Her mother met us there and we hugged and chatted. She invited my son and I to family karaoke.
I did my walk Saturday. My colleague who tried to kill herself called me and we we talked awhile. I played guitar, I sent the required paperwork to the Bank Manager for the house, and cooked a bit. I took my car to get detailed because I want it very clean when women who are new to me go places with me, and then although it’s still pretty icy, I biked 7-miles to go shopping. I got some dog food, new jeans and finally found a red t-shirt. Why is it difficult to get a red t-shirt?
When I got home, I had really rough conversation with my son and found out that he had only been to a few classes in the last two weeks. His Calculus teacher reached out to me via text. He said that if I gave him $2 a day, he’d go to all his classes, and that sounded like a cheap way for me to preserve some sanity for what I call my jail sentence. I have just over a-year-and-half left with him here. He has to move out when he turns 18.5. He has a move out day. Then my son left to his current girlfriend’s house for her father’s birthday party. I fed my pets and did a little cleaning and took them on a nice walk. While playing guitar, I got a text from my son that he was coming home.
He’s dropping out. I think that he’ll pass the GED in his sleep. He’s so good at math and a good writer, and will just need to work off the study guide for Science and Social Studies, but for the latter he passed an Advanced Placement exam two school years ago doing nothing. It’s not that he isn’t bright. He can’t navigate social dynamics and now can’t go to class at all. It’s definitely upsetting. Not what you want for your child either. He has to get another job and doesn’t drive, so he’ll have to bike or walk to work. His ex-girlfriend messaged his current girlfriend during the birthday party and a mess ensued. Doors slammed, awkward whispering, and he came home. Suffice to say, I had shitty sleep Saturday night and Sunday was difficult.
I talked with my colleague who tried to kill herself–she’s a single mother too. I got a text from the wife of my ex who is dying, and she had to get two units of blood on Saturday night and they can’t find the bleed. I’m buying tickets for the end of March to NC, and am hoping to see her with my son. That may not be the timing and I’m distraught about it. And I drove to the Rec Center and added 15-20 lbs more than I’d been using on the machines. I was still in a hideous mood and tried two friends, and it went to VM. I walked a bit over a mile and drank my recovery drink. When I got back to the car his girlfriend texted me that my son had a “family iPhone.” I was shocked. I called my colleague who tried to kill herself. As I was driving back to my house, I kept her call in the pocket of my jacket. I went to his room and said, “_______, ____ texted me and I need the iPhone that she gave you.”
At the time, I never thought in a million years that parents would undermine MY parenting and not talk to me regarding a smart device as they knew that the flip phone was a consequence. I kept my colleague on the phone. I went to their house, put the phone on the porch and took a picture which I sent to the girlfriend’s Dad and Stepmother. He texted, “Thank u.” Are you kidding me? My son’s on a flip phone and subscription separate GPS! On what planet do you give a child a phone who’s had a phone for 7-years and doesn’t get to have technology in his room? Why is that your decision? I woke up my son, said it all made a lot of sense why it’s been easy for me to collect his district-provided laptop and flip phone at night, because he’s never had to stop using text and social media messaging. And what’s worse is that other parents made that decision for me.
Although my mood was only slightly less hideous, it was then horrific. I was vile. My son asked if he should move out and I told him no, but whenever his Dad can have him overnight that he should. I just need space. Not that a 17-year-old understands interfering in other people’s parenting, and her parents apparently handed over the phone to him “so it would be easier for him to text their daughter.” I told him that they have bizarre boundaries, and it’s not his girlfriend’s fault, but I have no trust in them and he’s not permitted to date her ever again while living with me. I got a text from his ex-gf’s mom saying that she would include me in the next family karaoke, but her daughter hasn’t been feeling well all day and she’s not going out with her friends. I thanked her. I hope that I do hear from her again, as she’s cool and that sounds so fun. Just before 7, my son’s Dad picked him up. I was in a hideous mood still. So, I went to a new karaoke bar and put my name in and sang. People at this venue were really good, so my first song was mid. My second song was wonderful. Too bad what was derivative of that was two guys hitting on me and one trying to buy me drinks. I was polite and declined, but then didn’t wait for my next rotation. I just went home. I slept like a rock last night. I feel so good today. I’ve landed.
I’ll text the climber happy birthday. She apparently wasn’t at work on Friday, so I’ll text her that I hope that meant that she wasn’t sick, but was rather extending her plans to add a day. I don’t think that she’ll text back. She’s been bad about that as of late. However, I do me and I’m conscientious and wish people Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday. I don’t chase, and won’t ask her out again. We shall see. She’s sexy and incredibly fun. She lives with five people though and they dance all the time and also do elite outdoor adventuring. Admirable for sure, but not something that someone can just simply join into and I wouldn’t want to do so. I’m up for a sing-a-long if that ever happens.
I’m NOT texting or calling the Photographer. After we get back from NC I’ll send her an email calendar notice for late afternoon some early April day so that we can walk through the house. That’s it.
I’ve had this situation happen before wherein things fizzle and then I have new experiences. The main difference now is that I’m not looking for an exclusive thing. Case in point is these two situations. One could be my crazy adventurer, and the other could be my coffee and hiking / biking companion. I would love to add a third too. Like a woman to traipse around a museum and go to live venues for music. I have what I want dialed in and won’t compromise anything.
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