I picked up Batman and she didn’t say good morning. I couldn’t tell if she was simply exhausted or actually a little pissy. I gave her one of the year-old pinecones. This one I’d kept in my hutch.
A year ago, actually EXACTLY a year ago yesterday, she had been laying on top of me on my couch and was complaining about being hot and I apologized because I’m a radiating charcoal briquette and she said, “I’m dressed for outside and it’s definitely me.” She popped up, took off her hiking pants, removed a base layer–I saw a quick flash of purple underwear, nice–and put back on her hiking pants and we resumed. Later, I was running my hands along the waist line of her pants and found a burr. It was a very young pinecone. We laughed about that for a couple days, “Why do I have a pinecone in my pants?” She’d been in a corn maze with her household prior to seeing me on the 30th last year. I had found another one on my floor and texted it as a picture to her just before 4 am when she’d left to get a couple hours of sleep before we worked. I think that one is on the plate below my Christmas Cactus that a family gave to me after my Mom died.
The ride in yesterday was ok. She fell asleep a couple of times, but not too many. Her eyes were so red and were swollen. How does she work on a couple hours of sleep?
I got a nail in my tire and had to ask my new colleague–he replaced the one who almost died who our Boss removed–to take me to the tire shop where I’d bought these tires after we were returning from scattering my parents’ ashes on my brother’s grave. Catholic took me back after they removed the nail, patched the tire and aired them all up well. I’m glad that I’ve gotten two-years of life out of these tires!
We drove home and I asked about the 3rd–she’s going to a dance show with her housemates–and the 10th–she’s going to Austin for a dance convention. I said that I would think of something epic in December. She was falling asleep again off and on and I wasn’t sure if my statement registered. I don’t think that I will. My friends say that her presentation is hot and cold. It’s not that, it’s that she is scheduled to the max all the time and must have some degree of FoMO because she really doesn’t sleep except in bursts during the day wherein she nods off. Scientifically, it’s not a good thing because she’s aging her cells prematurely. Realistically, it makes it difficult to make any concrete plans with her.
It was only the Realtor and the Nice Guy for karaoke, but it didn’t matter that no one showed, because we had a ton of fun and I sang five times and the Nice Guy did three times. I really like the Realtor. She’s so fun and up for anything. She doesn’t sing and had a good time meeting the Nice Guy and hanging out with us. I’m going to likely take my son and his girlfriend to the Nice Guy’s new dance performance in three Saturdays and that’s the one that the Realtor is going to see too. She speaks Portuguese and is stoked to see Samba again, and showed the Nice Guy pictures from the same company’s dance show from three years ago. I’m going to sit with her even if she brings her girlfriend. I like her. She joked about sitting in the car for six-hours instead of climbing a peak, and I said, “That was just bad circumstances.” She doesn’t go hard with activity. She works that hard. Again, Batman and the Realtor are both blue-eyed Millennial Capricorns. They don’t half-ass their interests and that is sexy.
This morning I woke up an hour before the alarm and just got up to write. I had two dream cycles and am not incredibly tired. I need to reflect before I go into this extremely busy work week and cold, cold cycle into work.
I had a follow request from the CEO. I’ve not seen the CEO in about 11-years. I blocked her on Gmail when she kept getting my son’s basketball schedule in 2014 and then just wouldn’t show up for games that she’d said that she was coming to. I got about six connection requests on LinkedIn and then reported her as harassing after a few years. I’ve kept her blocked on FB, where I don’t log in anyway, and then deleted her Instagram follow request this morning. We ended badly and she’s obsessed with her image of perfection (I would bet tons of money that she’s a 3 on the Enneagram.) so she has kept up this odd behavior for years. I’ve never run into her organically, and I’m sure it’s because I don’t go to the giant women’s first Friday dance event. It’s not because of her, it’s because I sing and don’t dance.
Within 24-hours I have had interactions with a woman who I’ve had some dates with, a woman who I’d love to date, and an old partner. Yes, I woke up early and needed to write.
I slept like complete poo last night. I woke up at 10:30 and then midnight and had significant difficulty going back to sleep. Our Boss is now a bully at this site and I feel worried about the horrible afternoon meeting because it’s difficult to avoid being yelled at by her. She does it in front of everyone too. The good thing is that when I was tossing and turning not being able to get back to sleep with the midnight waking hour is that I came out to the living room, snuggled my cinnamon roll shaped dog and checked my phone. Batman texted me a picture of her in her Halloween costume that she wore to her themed dance Saturday. She looked so hot and it was a tight costume so you could see muscles and physique. AND, the nice guy is taking his car to get his moon roof fixed so it’s just us two this morning!
I will knock on her door this morning and ask her if she has her calendar. I want to do dinner and an aerial dance show on Friday or next Friday. I hope that she says yes!
Tonight is a huge group of folks for karaoke. The nice guy will be there–hopefully with an operational moon roof on his Jeep–and I invited Brooklyn and he and I both invited our colleague who almost died. I had a ton of fun with her in a Key West themed restaurant on Saturday. We both cried a tiny bit at dinner. I’m so glad that she didn’t, in her words, “join my [her] Daddy” last year at this time. She is also bringing her new roommate and her roommate’s mother. We worked with the former for a few years before she left given that she couldn’t survive our old Boss. I guess that we’re testing the Realtor’s extroversion this evening.
Back when I was with the CEO, we’d been at a house party at one of Brooklyn’s friends. Her best friend from that time of her life was crying off and on because her husband had a heart attack and was in rehab for the 4th time. It was right after this time that he lost all of his restaurant chains and they divorced. The CEO told me, “If I was single, I would give her a mercy ____ .” She was generally such a treat to date!
I think of this experience given my adventures last night. Before our game, I put back on the same dome, painted my face thicker, and added a tail. We were all dinosaurs at kickball last night. We played well. I really want to play with these folks again, and have more phone numbers now. I went to the bar and didn’t have to suffer through Flip Cup, because I always walk back home from the field, let my dogs out, and put on jeans, which makes me late to the bar the nights that I go. I was talking with two of our teammates and they’d brought one of their sisters who they said that think is getting divorced, so when the Nurse asked me to take a pickle shot with her, I introduced myself to the sister and bought three shots.
Then, because I’m trained as a psychologist, she began telling me about her relationship. It was very similar to the experience that I had 12-years-ago. Her husband is off fentanyl and pain pills and taking something that you can buy and taking lots of it. I told her that she had to take care of herself and nurture herself. I added people who are addicted are not who you fell in love with, and he’d been in rehab twice, but now is using this substance–I would know the name if I heard it–all the time and it is obvious when he’s on it. She told me when he’s using that he says verbally abusive things to her.
After awhile she hugged me. Later she said that she loved me. She’s 36 and clinging to any warm body. And I don’t have the same philosophy as the CEO.
I left with the Nurse, and two other teammates. We got a free wrist band at the bar where Flip Cup is held. When we got there it was a drag show at the venue, which I don’t particularly enjoy. I asked my teammate if we could go back to her car, and we did. Before then, the Nurse told me that the sister was into me. Super yikes.
I walked to the local walk-up burger joint that we have, ate what I always order on the walk back to my car, and came home. I did, before I hung out around a pickle shot, take a picture with one of the opposing teammates. He was in a Batman costume and before we took our picture he asked, “Oh wait, would you like me to put on my mask?” Of course. I sent it to the Climber and captioned it, “Oh, yes.”
The nice guy got pink eye on Sunday. We had all commuted together on Friday and it was fun–that was the day that we took the Batman to the airport. On Monday I picked up Batman at her house. We joked and connected on the way in and had to work closely together for a mediation with a client during the morning. It went well, and from what I’ve gathered, the solution seems to be sticking.
I had to go to her office at the end of the day because she still was working with a different client. Then we finally got out of there. Work at this site sucks a little because our Boss is acting like a moody asshole. I’m actually sick of her shit. I told Batman that I kinda missed our previous Boss. Then I talked a little bit about our colleague who almost died by suicide. I’m taking her to a grill and seafood restaurant for her birthday celebration on Saturday. I guess we were talking about two people in a way so she thought that I was taking our previous Boss out for a bday dinner so I said, “What do I possibly have in common with __ ______ ?” She said quickly, “beautiful eyes.” I paused, picked up her hand and squeezed it.
I guess I’m lying to myself if I say that I’m not going to figure out how to make some concrete plans with her. She said that she’d have her calendar on her on Monday so that we’re able to do so. She also said, “Honestly, I’d gotten back from California at 2 am so I didn’t really have everything on me today.” It wasn’t climbing and paragliding but a social thing with groups of people at a Hilton. I don’t know if it was with dancers or climbers. I’d assume the former. I need to think of something sexy-fun to do with her in early November. The first time that I’d ever kissed her was a year ago on Tuesday. And that kiss lasted until 3:40 in the morning!
I had kickball on Friday and was the only one dressed up. I guess our costumes were moved to next Friday and it was in the app, but I honestly didn’t see it when I RSVP’ed. I took the construction paper sun dome off and my teammates asked me if I wanted baby wipes for the yellow paint and I said, “I’m almost 50-years-old and don’t care.” We played well, and although I was exhausted, I did go to the bar and played a little flip cup. When I was in college we played beer pong and flipped quarters into cups, so I’m just learning flip cup.
I really like one of the Nurses on our team. He’s so approachable and funny. He had on booty shorts and was drinking really heavily because his husband, who is a PA, was driving. The Nurse was dancing and getting wild. The other nurse on our team, who I have just gotten closer with since last week, and he started spanking each other. Then he started talking about breasts and I was really glad to be in a sports bra. It’s just a weird and common gay man thing: many of them love and are obsessed with breasts. I was glad that mine were smashed down. The other nurse was saying that hers were too small. I left shortly after that.
I did the Saturday morning things and then drove to the foothills for an event. My favorite work partner–really my work husband–just had a baby. He’s gorgeous and really easy. I held him and we walked around and talked. I had brought coconut yogurt and the chocolate brownie flax muffins because his son is probably allergic to milk like he was as a young one, so his wife can’t have dairy. Their son isn’t gaining weight. I also brought pomegranate seeds mixed with berries. I kept those and sent the yogurt and muffins home with them. We only really talked about the baby.
I had a bit of time before my recital so I cooked and ate. I also had my neighbor come over and play with the irrigation settings so I could know how to use the fourth setting in the backyard which is my hose. I watered the areas that the irrigation doesn’t hit. I just don’t want water on my concrete patio. That’s wasteful and also ruins the concrete, so I’m going to get shade seeds from the hardware store and put those under the eaves near the patio and continue watering the grass under the shade of my neighbors’ Ponderosa Pine.
When I finally got to the art gallery and bar, they were rehearsing. They sounded great. The female vocalist was tall, gorgeous and had an incredible voice. I didn’t stay because I was drinking water, watching drunk people, realizing that I would have to be on a chair below the very crowded stage and things were already running late. I wanted to walk my dogs, watch tv, drink more water and get lots of sleep. I have had a ton of sinus pressure and some headaches lately too, so I wasn’t feeling perfectly well. I emailed our teacher in the car and went home and had a perfectly lovely night. I have to rally a lot of energy to talk in groups, so I just didn’t want to be there anymore because I’ve been talking A LOT lately.
I lift weights today and will get my weekly adjustment. Then I have an end of summer party with the organization that I volunteer with outdoors. I have even taken my son on one of the events wherein we hand watered native plants in an open space area. I love these folks. It will be fun. I’ll text the climber when I leave that event to see if she needs a ride home from the airport.
On Friday the nice guy rolled up with the climber and we drove in. The nice guy wants to go back to school. I didn’t realize that he only had a Bachelor’s degree and he wants to either become a mental health provider or write curriculum for schools. I gave him advice. I drove them and another colleague to a strip mall to pick up lunches, and paid for the other’s colleague’s lunch because I really like her. She’s so sweet. The climber and I reminisced about last fall and getting bear hugged and picked up together because Friday was an anniversary date of our site staying open. That could be a long, long series of blog entries, but many things are so scandalous and specific that it would alter this incognito writing that I’ve always done. Anyway, the nice guy said, “Picked you both up?” And the climber said, “Yes.” And he said, “You’re both petite so that makes sense.” I told him that people guess my weight under by 15-pounds usually and the climber quickly said, “Muscle weighs more.” The car got quiet. (//.//w/.//)
We drove her to the airport so she could fly out. She’s climbing and I’m sure paragliding all weekend with one of her partners who’s been in her life for 5-6 years. I’m sure that he is incredibly athletic and strong. I’m glad that she has him. I know that he flies here to see her during the year too. She thanked me for the ride and I gave her a hug and could feel her hands on the small of my back. So nice. I’ll either see her tonight, if she’ll let me pick her up from the airport, or I’ll see her tomorrow morning.
Next Monday will be very interesting. The nice guy and the Realtor and I are going to karaoke. I’ll invite Brooklyn too, and will text her about it tomorrow to give her a week’s notice. She and I sang for many years together in large groups, and she said she’d like to meet the nice guy. It’s going to be interesting to be with the Realtor in this group. She is a completely different person in a group. However, I told her that I’d cycle with her anytime, take her up a high peak, and that she’d love ______ and that she should come to karaoke with us. Now, with the exception of a birthday dinner in January, I’ve kept all my promises. I’ll bet that karaoke feels way different than the birthday dinner!
On Wednesday night, I had a fairly intense dream and want to write about it before my day forces it out of my brain. I was at a party at my best friend’s friend’s house. This friend had hosted a High Tea for Mother’s Day this past spring. The Realtor was there and we wound up flirting and later being physical. She was asking lots of questions about Batman. Vegan was there later and we wound up kissing. Before I left, I’d lost my shoes because furniture had been moved around, and when I found them, I wanted pictures of them both. The Realtor wanted one showing her legs flexed. I had my arm around her. Vegan and I also took a photo together. It’s like a poly download.
Updates on Saturday morning: I had made chickpea sandwich spread with Yumm! sauce. My neighbors are from OR, so they’d picked some up for me and I’m sad that it’s almost gone. We don’t have those restaurants in the Mountain West–they’re a PNW eatery. I stirred in onion whites and fresh dill and ate it on sourdough toast, so I texted Vegan that she’d like this sandwich spread, and she replied to sign her up and said that we should go climbing soon. That’s good because I don’t think that the University has auto belay.
I am wondering when I’ll have another pre-arranged thing with the Climber / Batman. I think that she was a little disappointed to not see me on Wednesday night. She had gotten sick–likely she has the same funky stuff that I do–and missed work on Wednesday. I only knew this because I was biking up the busy street around 7:20 in the morning and the nice guy rolled down his window and told me that she was sick. He wasn’t commuting in her car and was driving himself. So, when my son was over for dinner, I sautéed onion, garlic, celery and carrots and made a quick broth and added a few chicken tenders in my Breville. We dropped that at her house and her crabby cat greeted us on the porch. I snapped a picture. She texted a bit with me and said that she’d ventured out in the evening to climb because she felt better. I want to see her again soon. The art show was nice with her. I really like her company.
I’m not interacting with the Realtor at all. I did heart an Instagram post that she’d made. I look forward to her birthday dinner when we turn to 2024.
All the potlucks are also delayed until then, so I can’t see _____ . That’s a bummer. The only way to message her is to pay for the social app. No, thanks. That’s almost as bad as swiping.
I love all the members of my new kickball team. We’re pretty good too. I’ve only popped it up once and have otherwise always been on base. Time for some bases in my personal life!
I took the first half of the mountain biking class yesterday; however, I had summitted a mountain on Sunday after 4-and-a-half hours of sleep, was coming off a 48-hour M-F, played kickball on Friday night, and left my Thermos at home yesterday so had a lack of substantial caffeine. I also have had the Non-COVID, non-Strep bizarre sinus, poopy thing for awhile, so was certainly not on my A-Game. We jumped the first rocks to head up to start the long downhill and I dodged some rocks and was motoring when I felt lactic acid in my thighs. I dismounted and talked to the other instructor.
It was really cool when I got up there initially because the guy who is a joy was the other instructor. He’s young, from VT, and loves beer. I’m going to climb two more Thursdays to hang out with him. Then the wall closes. I’ve not heard from Vegan, so I don’t know how I’ll get gym time going forward. I wish that the Rec Centers had walls. I guess I can check if the University does, and use theirs if they have auto-belay. I can use it now because of climbing with Vegan. I can’t wait for VT to see that! He has only seen me not trusting it and has witnessed me downclimbing over and over.
There is a Yeti that has a small frame that is listed at $3,200. That is way better than 6k. You can get that one shipped to you or a bike shop for 4-5K, so I want to decide on the price beforehand. I sent an email to the owner of it. We’ll see. I’d imagine that by Craigslist haunting I can get one eventually. I don’t need instruction anymore. I cycle all the time so some rudimentary moves are ingrained in me. I just need hours in the saddle on mixed terrain and want to do some of that alone. I’ll also use my “Outside +” subscription to watch videos so I can get more tips. I know the basics now and have been on a mountain bike twice, and had a shitty mountain bike that Brooklyn gave to me that I rode for years. I biffed on it once riding a singletrack. I’m ready to commit to learning more, and the long class and half class instruction yesterday have made me ready.
After the skills portion of the class, and then my bailing after the initial downhill, I decided to hike and see some leaf changes. I’m a bit bummed that I saw a HUGE aspen tree that had many shades of orange and yellow on it last Sunday, but was hurried because the Realtor had to get to a 4:00 appointment, and I couldn’t justify stopping to get a picture. I had no idea until then that foliage is completely different at elevation. It was backdropped against a blue, dark green, and purple mountain. Oh, well. I wound up having a nice, little hike yesterday and saw some beauty.
I am going to walk my dogs after I finish my coffee, and then I’m meeting nice Aries for brunch. I have two nice Aries in my life. They’re birthday twins. One I’ve known for 35-years, and the other is my friend who I sang karaoke with all last winter. She was really gorgeous when we were in our 20s. We have fun together. Before then I need to do my weights day. I’m not going to do 55-lbs though, and will instead drop to 40-lbs for my sets because I still don’t feel in tip top condition. I wanted to write today to commit to a goal of saddle time on a Mountain Bike… Happy Sunday, y’all!
I parallel parked and walked toward the restaurant. I’d never been there so I was heading in, but the Realtor was on the patio so I went over there. I asked, “Have you been here long?” She said that she’d just gotten there and that she chose outside and asked if I’d like to move. I said, “Any excuse to be outdoors is one that I always take.” She laughed and said that she sat down at the tail end of Happy Hour and bottles of wine were $24, so she ordered a red that was spicy. I said, “Good choice. I wouldn’t have drunk any white.” She said, “Compatibility! I am so glad that I chose well!” Odd word choices.
And then we talked, and talked and talked. She asked me about Batman right away. She asked if she was a friend.
I said, “She’s not a comet; although she’d described herself to me as that when we went to the Nutcracker, but she’s like a satellite. I see her typically once a week and she’s blocks away from me so I can feel her bat signal.” It gave me pause that was the topic which she chose for the initial portions of our conversation. I told her, “She’s great. She went to my Christmas Party at the University last year and then did the art show with my best friend.” The Realtor said quickly, “I would do that!” I asked, “Are you an extrovert? I certainly wouldn’t.” The conversation was interesting to say the least.
Then we moved to relationship history conversation. We quickly ate the seared brussels sprouts, but didn’t eat our dinner completely or quickly. She’d ordered a Montepulciano de Abruzzo for our wine, which is so funny.
The majority of my Italian heritage is from Abruzzo and we’re Abruzzi.
The two-hours flew by. I walked her to her car and told her that I was hugging her and didn’t give the shitty shoulder hug. I embraced her. It wasn’t like pushing my whole body against the climber as we’d done on Monday, but it was a legit hug.
The whole thing was like a date. She’s a good dinner conversationalist. That’s a date! She doesn’t hike hard like I do and certainly would never try a peak again, but she’s smart, multilingual, easy-on-the-eyes, funny, flirty, and charming. I’m not going to see her until around her birthday. I had her write on the $100 that I had in the Thank You Note that I wrote for selling my parents’ house. She would’ve had to donate it. She put her first initial on it and also wrote 40. She’ll turn 40 three-days after Batman turns 38. Life is so weird.
When did having a birthday week become a thing? I had someone write on my FB timeline “Have a great birthday month!” No, I draw the line there. I would say that with a Tuesday for my 49th that I am somewhat entitled to a birthday week, but not the entire month. That’s weird.
I had dinner with my two favorite women from my bowling team on Tuesday and had a ton of fun. They knew my other colleague and got closer with her as a result of the dinner, and said that she was decidedly cool. I don’t usually ever drink hard alcohol, but it was my birthday so I asked if they could make their monthly (Oh, no, does that mean that I did, in fact, partake in a birthday month?!?) special margarita with Patron Silver in lieu of the house tequila and also pineapple puree? They could. The bartender also shaved cinnamon from a stick and lined one side of each glass and placed a fresh pineapple slice on the glasses with an agave leaf on the other side. I bought a round of those. They comped a salsa trio. I splurged and bought steak fajitas! They wanted to comp a dessert, but I don’t like sweets. We had good conversation and a great meal. It was incredible.
My son came over for dinner the next night and we had a nice time. I got to see him on Friday night as well and we ate dinner at a burger place with the patio where I could bring the dogs. The food was great, and he said that he would be eating there again with his girlfriend.
I had dinner that Saturday night with my best friend and Mini Boss. I had good rigatoni with red sauce and loved my best friend’s Clams Malfadine. I also had an IPA that was actually served at the correct temperature! They chill them often in restaurants or pour them from a keg with all beers that are super cold, so they have a hoppy bite. I couldn’t believe it, but my best friend kept drinking it! I told her that she would like a sour more, and she ordered one. I had to finish mine and hers, but was shocked that she was drinking beer. I’d never seen that! Maybe it’s because she’s 50. Mini Boss had a Mezcal drink. She loved it. She had summer risotto. They’d never met, but were fast friends. I love making friend connections. I made more of those the next day.
The alarm was 3:45 the following morning. We have this tradition of the summit cookie when we do super long hikes with my son. They’re just Rice Krispy Treats, but we used to buy them from a fast, casual pasta location. I made those Saturday morning with vanilla vegan marshmallows and cacao sprouted rice cereal. I also used a half-cup of regular butter so they’d bind well. My son was VERY excited for them. He was so cute the afternoon before our hike. He called me and asked how old he was when he had first climbed that particular peak and I sent him photos and a trip report I’d written. I was so excited to climb with him!
I got to the parking lot about 5:10 (I was late.) where my son and I were going to meet both the Ballet Dancer and the Realtor for our drive to the trailhead. The Ballet Dancer jumped out and embraced me and then immediately embraced my son and the Realtor. I would have been a complete tool had I not embraced her, so I did and noticed that it was a shoulder hug. Not a full body hug like it was this summer. It made things really easy right away. Both the Ballet Dancer and the Realtor began napping right away when I had been on the highway for about 15-minutes. Had my son not talked to me in the pitch black night for the 127-miles, I would have fallen asleep. He was open and charming and I was so grateful for him.
We got there and I started getting my gear. I was putting on my hiking boots when the Realtor started commenting about the cold. When we started out my son said, “I can’t do this in a t-shirt and a windbreaker,” so I gave him the keys to get the hoodie that I keep in the back of my SUV. The Realtor said about 10-minutes later, “I should have checked the forecast. I am going to go back to the car.” I told her that it would be 52 on the summit. She hiked more with the two of us, and when I saw my son sprinting up, we all waited. He said, “I’m not feeling well enough to do this.” I hugged him and said that it was no problem and the Realtor commented about the wind and I told her that we would be out of the wind once we were on the switchbacks of the trail, and she said, “I’m going to go back with _______. You have a buddy and I’ll have a buddy.”
I had a pan full of Rice Krispy treats in a bread bag and only the Ballet Dancer and I did the summit. When we got to the saddle of the mountain, she actually started getting pretty anxious. She was even using the high dollar profanity! In fact, she shall never be able to live me down saying “Fuck this,” in the stylings of the Exorcist voice. She was really freaked out and I saw a new side of her and a semi-demonic voice. I think that I channeled the Climber (Batman), and I asked her what she needed. I also gave her an out. She said that she wouldn’t get this close to the summit and turn back even being terrified. I helped her by being in front of her and only hiking when she would say, “Go.” We helped another woman who was terrified by the exposure too and had a nice summit lunch.
When we got back to the car, I got to hear one of my favorite things which is overheard conversation porn. The Ballet Dancer and the Realtor became fast friends and the Realtor has a dating prospect for the Ballet Dancer. The whole thing helped me. The Realtor and I have so little in common. Even if she wasn’t looking for an escalator relationship, we don’t really have overlap in the ways that we show up to be able to date. It wasn’t what I was thinking would happen, but I’m so glad that we stuck to the chance for her to climb a high peak although she sat in a car at the trailhead with a 17-year-old! And I’m incredibly proud of the Ballet Dancer for doing one of these. She said it’s her first and last. The Realtor also had a long conversation with my son about career. I’ll write out an appropriate Thank You Note to give to her Wednesday, which could be the last time that I see her pre-arranged.
The nice guy has flu symptoms this morning, so he generated a group text between the Climber (Batman) and I this morning. I texted to the group, “Feel better, ______!” and later the Climber texted two sweet lines to him. I texted her after I saw the text that she’d sent to the group thread, “I will leave my house at 7:20 to pick you up.” And she texted back thank you. I didn’t make coffee for her, but said, “Because you like sweets, I’m giving this bag of Rice Krispy treats to you.” She said, “These are fancy ones!” She even asked me again if I was serious about giving them to her when we got to work. We had a pleasant ride in, failed meeting together because Catholic hadn’t hustled to get the family at the meeting, and a lovely ride back home.
We shared work stories because the Boss at this site is behaving really negatively toward seemingly everyone, and we connected. I wound up talking about my coming out affair and the aftermath. I told her a few details which I had written about in May of 2010, but they occurred in December of 2007.
“The next morning we spoke and she explained that in addition to her never wanting to be a mother, she was so far past being ‘anyone’s dirty little secret anymore.’ I didn’t even see her until the following weekend, and she only would talk to me on the phone about twice a week, instead of every single night as she had done for about 4-months. That Saturday night, we watched some SNL, and she started holding me. That would be the pattern for the month of December. She would eventually touch, cuddle, or kiss me, and stop me if I got to where she couldn’t keep me from taking the next step, which had been normal for us until that month.
I resigned the following Friday. I got another job that Monday, which would start late January. She went out of town the week that I resigned. She texted me the day of the face-to-face interview with the team, as I had passed the administrative interview, and then we had a cold conversation on the phone. That is what December was like… She got colder and colder, and more removed from me. It was so strange–watching someone become an iceberg. It was like the lyrics to “China” by Tori Amos.”
The Climber rubbed my shoulder and had tears in her eyes. I held her hand in the car. She’s so incredible. I asked her to come to my best friend’s art opening and she said, “Yes.” I went to her house tonight and one of her housemates said that she was at the store. She came in the backdoor and said hello and that I should come inside and that her cat would greet me. She got ready within 7-minutes and looked gorgeous! Velvet pants, a tank top that would gather around her shoulders as well–but she left the sleeves off until later so that I could drool over her arms–and gold ballet flats. When she was coming down the stairs I told her that it was no fair! She said, “I saw you, and had to do this!” I did NOT look hot like her. We had a wonderful drive to the restaurant for the art opening. I introduced her to my other Boss, some colleagues, and few friends and the Realtor.
We left just under an hour later. I told her about her being Batman. She’s not a comet–she’s a satellite and a superhero. She said that we should climb under the full moon in 4-5 days. I said, “Your ball, your court. If I’m not teaching and you text, I’ll be there.” I told her that I would LOVE to see the dance between her and my Boss dancing and who would lead. We talked, flirted and connected. We hugged in the car and I kissed her shoulder. We kissed a bit and embraced. I asked her if I could get a full body hug outside my car and she said, “Yes, please.” After we hugged awhile she said, “You’re so great. Goodnight.”
I went to my friend’s house early last Saturday because she skipped yoga. We embraced for a long time and gave each other a kiss–Italians do that; it’s ok. And then we walked 6-miles catching up. We worked in her garden, made pesto, and drank a beer. We made a GIANT salad and some pasta.
I was shocked about the beer and pasta. She’s been gluten free since the very earliest 2000s. She said that she does fine with it when it’s in little doses. I believe that most of gut health is neurotransmitters and responses to stress hormones.
I can’t tell you how good it is to be reconnected to her again. She really knew my parents as do both of the ___’s that I’m still connected with, and that means something to me. They were so demented and in active decline when I got married that my ex-wife couldn’t really interact with them. They became just odd and sad to be around. My Dad said, “I didn’t sleep last night. I have to go the bathroom.” That’s all he said too. When asked questions, he would confuse pronouns. My friend was so upset and cried when I told her about the end of my parents’ lives. It’s definitely a unique situation.
I had fun on the new routes in the climbing class on Sunday. I’m looking forward to climbing gym time this winter. I need to learn how to plan routes. I’m going to play kickball on a gay league starting on the 22nd or 29th. I also want to add an abs day to my regime. I think that Thursday would be good.
My Boss in one of my assignments is behaving really poorly. She is requiring two nights and a Saturday. I’m not doing those dates and she can make me available to the market if she thinks that I’m supposed to. I am hired by a super large organization and placed in sites to see clients. I emailed my manager and she said, yes, I wouldn’t have nights or Saturday work because it’s outside my contract hours.
I’m beyond cool with my other Boss. I do the majority of my extra contracted obligations at that site, and I always work there 3-4 days a week. The other Boss is acting like she is cracking down on all of us. I don’t think that the nice guy should sleep at work, and I don’t think that the climber should miss weeks of work and also be late all the time. However, also as Susan Scott writes about and says, that doesn’t mean that non-specific feedback to everyone or group punishments will be healthy for the organization. It feels like she is sanctioning all of us. Honestly, now that it’s year 2 with my teammates in my main site, we run it like a well-oiled machine. I did all my documentation yesterday at that site, and wouldn’t need to do any paperwork in my other site. If I have to leave, I’ll leave. The nice guy and the climber have my phone number if they want to see me. I’ve had some of the same friends for 23-years not including my son’s godmother (30) and my best friend from middle school (36).
I finally have a hair appointment today. I feel like a shaggy beast. It will be so nice to have my partial highlights again, too. I am making two quiches tonight or tomorrow morning for brunch with my neighbors. We have to drink the sparkling Rosé that the Realtor gave me too. I really, really need to clean and trim bushes this weekend as well. I have to wash my car too because the climber had to use her inhaler a million times on our commute last week.
I’m going to celebrate my birthday with a couple of women from our bowling team and a speech pathologist who I worked closely with during the pandemic. We’re doing coastal Mexican food on a heated patio. The day before our summit trip, my best friend is taking me to modern Italian in a popular spot. The place has a full bar, so I probably will drink a glass of Zinfandel or Pinot Noir instead of a beer. I usually drink beer. My Boss who is decidedly being normal, and mini-Boss will be there too, which will be nice. I also have the Women’s Discussion Group on Thursday so although I don’t teach twice in person like I did this week, I’m very busy. Sunday will be fun, but I can’t describe to you how tired I will be. Elevation wears you out. That means that really Friday is my down day. I only want to contact a company who will move this piano to my friend’s house. The one who I sing with occasionally. These things help me not think solely about my brother being gone 35-years. I’m lucky.
Yesterday, the GPS took me to the hospital area instead of the train station hub. I had copy and pasted the title company address from an email into a calendar notice. I was in front of a brewery looking for a building large enough to accommodate suites and called the Realtor. She asked if I could see the train station, and I was incredulous. I got back in the car, used the address that she gave me for the parking garage, after going up many levels decided just to park in a “Compact” space and went in. It was so quick. Likely, I worked with the Closer for 15-minutes total. I got to work at my other site and did determine that my Boss there is being really weird. I think it’s because I’m fairly close now with my colleague who almost died and she got sanctioned by HR for talking about her after she, in the words of Susan Scott, “made her available to the market.”
I was emotional for most of the day when I wasn’t working directly with my clients. I told the nice guy that I was so close bursting into tears. I told him that on Wednesday when I locked my keys in the house, I stood in my brother’s closet (for the last time) and said goodbye to him, and that there really isn’t a single person who would understand having no original, immediate family by the time that she was 47.
The Climber did get stuck. She had to shelter in place for two extra days, and assured me that after 11-years, she and her other builders had extra food and water. She did say that she saw two cars spin in the mud while their cars just sank down up to the engine mounts. Some people really do think that they’re special. As usual, it was nice to see her, and as is typical she nodded off a few times in our dark, terrible meeting. It was in a different room and all the lights were off and because it faces south, the shades were down. I think that she probably falls asleep off and on all day because of the lack of sleeping at night. She looked great: bronze, and in new, quite tight, pants. She is so short and it’s funny that I’d even look at her. Probably some of it is that I do know how her back and arms feel. I will write it again: her ball, her court.
The Realtor gave me a gift bag. I asked, “Is there booze in here?!?” She indicated that there was, and I said, “Should I park somewhere and drain this bottle of wine?” She told me that she couldn’t advise me either way about that. I said, “Always the professional.” I’ll write a really good recommendation for her on LinkedIn before I leave after opening the bag. Yesterday was emotionally draining, so I have tons of stuff on my dining area table. I had to call her one more time yesterday because when my buddy went to the house to get the loveseat and table and chairs, the husband in the buyer’s couple said that they wanted the loveseat. They apparently left my buddy waiting for a callback from the wife to her husband and my buddy just left, and took those to a school where I donated them. They kept four chairs. The Realtor sounded appalled when I called her. I don’t care. Those solid oak chairs were in that house for decades. It’s sweet that they’re still there. Just odd behavior from those buyers. I hope that they’re cool.
After work, I went over to the credit union to check the estate account to determine if proceeds had wired there. It was there so I paid myself back to my savings account $7040.60. Now, I’m letting everything sit in it. I need some advice from my FA, and need to upload things for the Accountant. I need to call my Attorney next week and close probate.
Here are my plans: porch extension, new cooler, sprinklers for a little patch in my backyard, refinish the hardwoods and fix the bowed ones in my bedroom, paint my whole house, cap the gas off, get an electric furnace, and an electric water heater, add two solar panels and also a skylight, fix the main bathroom fan and vent through the attic my stove fan. It’s probably close to 100k, and I’d rather get a specialized loan. I don’t actually want to touch my inheritance at all. Thus, why I want to talk to my FA, Accountant and Attorney, because I want to ensure that everything is solid.
Today, I’ll be less emotional. I am reconnecting with my friend who I’ve not spoken to at all since 2014 or 2015. She’s Italian too, and is from Brooklyn. We just have beautiful friend chemistry and I can’t wait. This summer my best friend asked if I have anyone in my life who I miss and have any longing to see and I said, “Just __. I actually can only speculate about what happened between us, and I still miss her. We both had completely crazy, Italian grandmothers.” Now, she’s back. And from a FB post! She wrote, “I miss you,” on a photo that I’d posted. I told my best friend that when I told her about ___ that shifted things. My best friend is pure magic. Tomorrow I climb on those three routes. Two are so hard. I’m going to get max sleep tonight so I can get up to the top of the easy route and really try as hard as I can on the two difficult ones. Monday, I drive in the Climber and the nice guy.
I had a solid week at work. I taught last Friday and then this Tuesday night and was in both of my buildings for daytime pursuits on the typical days–sometimes Mondays and Fridays switch in terms of the building that I’m in. (That will happen this week, and I’ll be very late and not be able to drive in with the climber, Batman, or the nice guy until 9/11.)
It’s been so good to be back with people. That’s so funny for me to even say because I’m an introvert. My best friend texted me and said, “Go line dancing with me tonight? I miss you.” I had to decline because I’d been out many nights in a row and was peopled out. I can give the excuse that my pets need me around, but really work involves a lot of talking and much of it is with people that I care an awful lot about, so I just need hours of me time afterwards.
Now that I don’t work Saturdays anymore I can slowly sip coffee and write. I love both of those things.
From my solo vacation in 2021. It’s really good drip coffee and a spinach pastelillos.
I’ll reflect on everything that has happened. I won’t pop over to Miami and get a pastelillos, sadly.
I paid my ex-wife. The title company called me and said, “It’s an estate sale, and everything goes into an estate account, and no cashier’s checks can come out.” I said, “I don’t want to pay taxes on $75,000.” She said, “I can check with our legal team, but I’m nearly positive that can’t happen.” I thought and thought and thought. Then I realized that my Financial Advisor (FA) was completely accurate last summer when he said that wasn’t the way it worked and that what people bring into a marriage is what they get back. She retained her condo, I retained my house. Recall that only for about a year did my ex-husband ever contribute to this mortgage and she gave $400 here and there. Rent here are about $1200 for a small apartment or room in a house.
So, I wrote this in our Google Sheet:
You cannot receive an invoice or a cashier’s check because the house is not mine, but is sold through the Estate of ______________________. It’s being sold as part of an estate and through a personal representative’s deed. Taxes on the estate will be paid less the contractors, agent fees, closing costs and other county fees. That will be completed in the spring per the accountant.
I will hire an attorney to review the financial disclosures from the decree to determine what more is owed to you. Then you will be paid that amount.
I thought and thought and thought some more.
I then realized that I know the cash value of my pension, SS, and IRA. So, I added those, divided them by two, realized that I have worked 33-years now, and was married for 8. That ratio is 8/33 or 24%, so I multiplied that by the halved cash assets and came up with 24k. I had forgotten that I had already paid her $750 eleven times at the time. I thought it was 17k, which is so much less than 75k and made me realize that my FA was right! Anyway, I have a consult on October 13th with an attorney who sponsors our local NPR station. I likely don’t owe her nearly as much as I’d charitably agreed to paying her.
I’ll have it squared away before this year ends. Marriages take seconds and divorces are super complicated. Both of my exes are really reasonable people too, so I feel for other folks who are actually dealing with dissention.
I had dinner with my son on Monday. That day really didn’t work for me, but he’d suggested Tuesday or Wednesday. I taught in person this Tuesday night and Wednesday I had a poker lesson. More on those in subsequent paragraphs. It meant that I skipped guitar, which isn’t a good thing. It was innocuous. It really reminded me of how it was to live with him. He has a smart phone now–his Dad pays for it and the bill–and he laid on the couch, got tired, only ate one plate of food, and I took him home. We’d run a bunch of errands together after work though and that was good because we walked side-by-side and so he talked to me a bunch about his personal life. He isn’t working, doing psychiatry, talks about getting a therapist, and is still with the same girl. I don’t want to interact with her going forward. I know that they’ll break up within a year or two.
I saw him again yesterday when I was biking home past his Dad’s apartment and he yelled, “Hi, Mom.” I dismounted, talked to him, and hugged him and said, “See you Monday.” He was supposed to help me take apart the bedframe at the house so I can move it back to my house and help me remove everything else used for staging. He called an hour after that and said that he’d forgotten that he had Labor Day plans on Monday. I asked if they were the whole weekend and he confirmed. Hopefully, my friend and I can get everything moved ok. It’s not too many things. I need to fold the realtor’s items and pile them nicely with her pillows on something clean that can be discarded, so I’ll have to think about that too. I’m glad that it’s not a thing with my son. We’ve frankly tried to talk so many things out with at least three family therapists, that I think we’re talked out. Sometimes, you just have to step away and redefine or end a relationship. With parenting, you’re always a parent, and I assume that when they move out, you have close times and more distant times. My tenure for direct parenting is just over, but he and I are fine: hugs, “I love you’s” and able to connect.
I have latent feelings for both the realtor and the climber. They’re people I dream about each month. I really hope to run into _____ again too. Her husband is a bit much, but he’s smart and fun to talk to, and they already have a girlfriend; so I just need to ask directly if she has an arrangement for dates outside of that triad. Otherwise, because I’m so picky, I don’t have any other women who I’m attracted to at all.
Our summit with the realtor and the ballet dancer is scheduled! It’s in three Sundays. I will bring my son too if he’s not with his girlfriend and ask him about it the Thursday before. I think it will be really fun. I’m going to take my poles for the descent and my janky left knee.
I have to take our medium hair to the groomer’s today. He’ll be a little bit scared. I need to wash my dogs too. My poor old girl is stinky and itchy.
I will have money going forward permanently now. I got an 8% raise which is already effective, don’t pay anything for my 17-year-old, and don’t make payments to my ex-wife. Whatever the lump sum she’s owed will be figured next month. Therefore, I can get a porch extension, a skylight, and schedule steam cleaning for the basement for October 16th. I’ll also take my dog to the vet for whatever is up with her 12-year-old skin.
I am having dinner and getting dressed up with a colleague on my birthday. I wanted to see my friends who I went to Korean BBQ with recently, but one of them has a concert. This one is 49, and I’ll be in such a different space in a year that I can make big plans for my half century.
I reviewed poker which was fun, but I don’t like the dynamics in that group really. I would only do something active outside like our snowshoeing beer festival with those women. I have a couple of friends from that group anyway. Lesbians irritate me a little bit because many of them are cliquey and they get really territorial and odd with affection around other groups of lesbians. I don’t want to watch you sit on each other’s laps and kiss when people talk to your girlfriend. That is fucking weird.
I think that the new cohort that I’ll teach for a year are pretty cool. I just upload some content for this week and will do that on Sunday. I’ll read the Google Form feedback on the 11th for my next in person. I only have to teach graduate school six more years.
My hands have been really hurting in the joints, and it makes climbing and guitar difficult. I’m going to get collagen and lutein when I pick up filtered water (refilled) and coffee. I’m grateful for learning and my health!
My colleague who almost died called me this morning. I told her about the couple that I met last night at the potluck. I’m definitely intrigued by the wife and had a conversation with her husband–truthfully, I mostly listened to him and validated his perspective and asked a few questions wherein he’d talk more at length. My two friends and another woman who I know from our discussion group were there too. While I was talking about that with my colleague, I had this epiphany.
My first girlfriend lived across the street from me 1987 – 1994. Those last two years I lived out of state where I had completed my undergraduate degrees, but she didn’t move out of her Dad’s house until 1994 when she got pregnant with her daughter. Her daughter was adopted. Her son, who she had a few years afterward with the same guy, was raised by her Dad and her Dad’s new wife.
I don’t think that my first girlfriend ever slept with any other girls than me. I guess she’d be what you call now heteroflexible. She dated my cousin who is only 2-years-older than me, and that didn’t bother me. In fact, I’m not usually attracted to lesbians who are stereotypically so. It’s often called “100-footers.” That term came from an episode of “The L-word.” These women are usually quite butch, heavy set, wear boots and have edgy short haircuts. They remind me of men. I’m not sexually attracted to men, so I don’t hit on these folks.
I hadn’t realized that in the early 1990s that I was also in a polyamorous relationship. That makes three total for my lifetime. I think that I’m having a second coming out. I started out solo poly when I was 15.
I still don’t like hiking on scree and need to learn to balance on trekking poles. In fact, I think that I could do some of that next weekend. I think because I’d warned my private guide about my lack of love for downhill–I love climbing up–he decided to rope me to him in the event that I fell or slipped. Like when I used to have to have someone tie my figure 8 knot, it makes me feel like a toddler. So, time to practice with trekking poles hiking down on mixed terrain and especially loose soil and rock! I was up 40-feet! Highest ever. It was my summit; although, if I knew more about route finding, I had another 80-feet to go. My accomplishment was no fear of heights. I just talked to my guide who is a professionally sponsored, second best in the US speed alpinist, about next steps and such. Well, screamed is more like it. The creek is loud there and the traffic louder. I can’t wait to get back to my private crag with the group in September with my new set of skills. So incredible. I was scared of heights so I started hiking at 34. One time got back up to a small area of minor exposure to a summit a second time, looked, and wondered why I was scared the first time? Being slowly desensitized to fears is changing me.
Sunday we staged the house in about 3-hours total. We did a good job, and the Realtor (Photographer) added more plants, another lamp and a white large blanket with a white comforter with pillows. It looked so much better! She said that she had those things. I couldn’t get the cooler going. It was missing a nut. I went up on the roof after work on Monday and there were more yellow jackets, so I came down. Two trips from a company, and nearly $1,300 out of my pocket to get it going and the motor is also failing.
Wednesday, I went back over to meet the technician again and all the lights were on in the house. Then I saw the Realtor going back and forth between rooms. When I went in, a very tall, very large woman in baggy linen pants and a crop top with dark curly hair and nose ring came toward me to shake my hand. I said, “Hello,” and the Realtor said something about partner so I assumed she was ______, who had to clean the paint off the hardwoods and fix the sheetrock that the subcontractors messed up, and I said that I definitely owed her dinner for those 4-hours of work and the Realtor said “romantic partner.” I said, “Oh, wonderful! It’s so nice to meet you.” She seems very young. She’s from Montana and has “done so many things” for work and is currently a massage therapist. I talked with her a bunch waiting for the technician to arrive. She is very nice, and adores the Realtor. I still have a crush on the Realtor. I won’t be seeing her much anymore though because I already have an offer for 25k over the listing for the house so that I can generate a counteroffer with an afternoon meeting via videoconference. I spoke with my attorney already too so that I can take off things that cannot be paid out of my parents’ estate. The Realtor had a showing within 34-minutes of the listing going live and there were 6 yesterday and an offer. There’s another summit.
I texted the climber on Monday and asked if she was at Burning Man, and if she wasn’t, did she want me to give her a lift on Friday. The nice guy is in Brazil. She said that she was here and would be gone the next two weeks and then we’d get the car pool crew back together. She had a dental appointment after work. On Wednesday during all the back and forth to the house, credit union, etc., I had happy hour plans with two colleagues and my colleague who almost died as well. It was a house and deck happy hour and really nice. However, I had to go home and get the pets fed and bring my dogs. Consequently, I was out of gas on Thursday. I had training in a Convention Center very close to my other site so I texted the climber and asked her to give me a ride. She got it late and texted me back asking if I got a ride. I was at the stoplight to turn onto the highway and texted her a picture of the gas gauge and said, “On fumes–turning onto ___, wish me luck!” She texted me that she could pick me up if needed and go car, go. That was cute.
I got there! During the last breakout session at the conference center, I left momentarily and got gas. My colleague who almost died made plans with one of the women from Happy Hour, the gay male colleague–going forward we’ll call him Catholic–and I said in text to invite the climber too. Only he and the climber showed for lunch. She hugged my colleague who almost died first and then turned to me with a big smile and said, “Happy end of summer,” and I said, “Happy nearly fall,” and we embraced a long time in front of the two others. I pulled away and she still had me tight so I went back in and hugged her more abdomen to abdomen. She’s even in better physical shape than she was last fall. We sat close on the bench by the lake with the others.
I looked at video that she shot with her Jerry-Rigged paperclip, electrical tape and thick yarn on her phone that she mounts for videos. It was beautiful. It was a sunset over a lake in Chamois from her paraglider. She did some technical and mixed ice climbing in France, but didn’t make it to Pakistan. I showed her a few of the OR coast and Crater Lake. She’d never been there, but when her sister and parents lived in eastern OR, she’d been to the coast. I was so sad when lunch was over. We hugged twice yesterday having arrived at the same time, and I went to her new office at the end of the day and told her to have the best build and festival ever. She said, “I will tell you stories about it, and you tell me stories about your adventures for the next two weeks.” I wonder if we will seamlessly get a road back to some dates? I’d love that.
I had plans with my friend to go to an Italian Festival last night, but she canceled having thrown up in the morning. So, I laid low last night and texted with the realtor about our counteroffer signing meeting today. I was very tired, so it was ok. The woman who introduced me to my ex-wife is in town right now, and we have super tentative plans for Monday. Hopefully, it will work out, but it doesn’t matter if it doesn’t. I am fine losing her for the most part in the divorce. I have a potluck with the poly group where I met Maryland tonight. I have a formal event for solo folk on Sunday. What a whirlwind of a week! I’ve not had time to process everything and have more people with whom I’ll be interacting.
Behind that tree and the start is some smoother rock to the ascent
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.
So, there was this Thai lunch counter with four tables (You couldn’t sit at them unless you made a reservation and they accepted no walk-in sit downs.) in the area where I worked for seven-and-a-half years and I ate there with members of our consultation team. It was so good. I went back a few times before it closed, and miss the restaurant. It was HOT. And, I mean really hot, and sometimes not palatable. My son’s godfather is half Thai and said, “No one actually cooks like that,” but the owner was from Thailand. You ordered mild, medium, hot or Thai hot. Medium was very, very spicy. You also ordered dry, baby juicy, a little bit juicy, all the way up to very juicy. That referred to sauce.
I worked yesterday, biked to the insurance company–I only drove to work one of the three days that I worked this week and that was because I was when I had to go straight to the house for the walkthrough and then to dinner with the author–and then home to teach on Zoom. I got ready and was pretty close to where I’d be with another one of my Bosses for the night when she said that the Lyft was picking her up in 8-minutes. I called her and said, “I don’t drink much, so I can drive you.”
We had a lot of fun. I noticed something very odd about men though. They would stare, mostly at my friend, and we’d smile and they would avert their eyes. Peter McGraw says that men are unpopular these days and approaching someone in public is a bad idea. That’s sad. I was wondering what people think about that generally? I’m not an expert on men. We didn’t get a single phone number or even conversation started for her.
We’ve had fairly odd weather this month. There was a week when it was nearly 100-degrees everyday. Now, we’re entering our monsoon season with low pressure coming up from the south. Today is really sunny and 88. Yesterday it rained in the mountains and rained on the front range after I’d gotten home from our hike. We hiked about seven-and-a-half miles. We had elevation gain too and saw clear alpine lakes.
Tomorrow I have to work all day and then I go straight to the house for the walkthrough and final list of things that have to be fixed or taken care of before we finally list two months late next month. I have dinner with the author and the small group at a bar and restaurant. Because tomorrow is so busy, I’ll do just over ten-thousand steps today so that I can be at 300,000. I guess that I’ll walk my dogs a mile when I finally get home and then I’ll take a walk too to round out the month at 310,000. It was so hot that I couldn’t walk as long as I normally do. It’s unconscionable to not do an average of 10,000 steps a day when I’m mostly on vacation. Next week, I work 42-hours, and I have the following week off. Then the week after I’m back to my three jobs.
The ballet dancer and I had a great hike. I spaced picking up my phone where we’d stopped for lunch and we had to go back up the rocks and smooth granite another time, but she wasn’t mad at me. I didn’t get home until nearly six pm. My dogs and cats were happy to see me. The ballet dancer is seeing a very cool and attractive young man. They have bad timing as he has to move back for school at the end of next month, but I am hoping that they can take a three-day vacation in the fall to stay connected. She’d like to be married, but doesn’t want to force anything. I am always on the lookout for her!
Life is motoring along. I feel like I have a handle on things in my work, social, and active life. I’ll write when I have something juicy and read others’ blogs too.
My son was supposed to live with me one more year in this big house.
On Wednesday I took my cat to the groomers. I read many pages of “Far From the Tree” while I ate green chili hash. I also walked about 3-miles. When I finally got ahold of my son on the way home he said that his girlfriend said sorry that she didn’t see me and goodbye. When I got home he said, “Don’t ever mention my weight in front of my partner again.” I said, “You two got home from the Thrift Store yesterday and unrelated to nothing you said, ‘You forced me to play sports’ and I said, ‘It’s good to be active and it impacted your weight positively.'” And he said it to me for the last time. Well, three times, actually.
I texted his Dad, picked up his Dad, we all talked, and he freaked out. And the one room of Hilton that he trashed out constantly is over. I actually found a sub sandwich box, a pizza box with a garlic butter cup, a moldy glass, a plate, and silverware. And this time, three empty beer bottles. We’d had a coherent conversation when I found nearly all my tupperware–some of it has white spores of mold–under his bed with silverware on June 4th before I left for OR. The time for conversations is over. He can move from the couch to the bathroom in his Dad’s two room apartment. He literally does nothing and it’s not possible to motivate him. He’s a high school graduate and needs to be with his father who knows what it’s like to be male.
His Dad lives in a Brownstone on the third floor with a galley kitchen, small table, small living room and one bedroom. He has no car. Not my problem. I am not being told f-you anymore. He’s 17.5, has three parents and my direct tenure has ended. I shut down his savings and checking and called it good. Well, not really, he’d spent a couple thousand dollars this summer so far and has less than $70 to his name. I took it to him with a couple of checks and his Dad can open an account for him.
Time for male influence. I’m not a punching bag. I also can’t live with him because he won’t follow simple rules and never has. He is a lot easier to live with when there’s another adult ego in the house. Honestly, he knows what I’m willing to do. And I’ve saved in an ESA for him since he was 2-months-old. He has 20k which would pay for a year of a state school. I will:
Buy him a car when his Dad will co-sign a loan for $100 for 36-months that I think that he should pay, but it wouldn’t be my loan
Pay any tuition check or electronic statement to school, college or university when he has Cs or better in all classes
Insure him until he’s 26 (medical and dental)
I won’t:
Continue to have him direct profanity at me
Bail him out of jail
Support or help with a kid that he has fathered (outside of living on his own completely and paying all his bills–but you can’t do that at 17)
He called me narcissist and abusive. I know that his girlfriend has a friend who calls social services all the time to try to get out of her house. His current girlfriend has been to residential treatment three times. She also has gotten in two car accidents already and had the last one on Tuesday. He runs with kids who have had lots of years of therapy, and frankly, he has too, and think that their accountability is pretty limited. They’re all either addicted to vaping devices or smoke a ton of pot.
It’s so nice to be in this empty house. Sure, there are a ton of pets here and only the one almost 12-year-old dog is mine, but it’s good to not have someone who begrudgingly cleans the kitchen, sleeps all day, and binges Netflix, YouTube and sometimes Prime and Disney most of the day and typically expects all meals. Sometimes he gets up at 1, so I don’t make but one or two. I changed all the streaming passwords, because these are not a car, school or health. He does coach, and has mostly done cardio with me on Mondays, but I’m just so tired of fighting. He apparently resents the years that he had to play sports and an instrument. Those years ended in 8th grade.
Last night I went to the women’s discussion group. It was wonderful. I made some good connections. On Monday I go to dinner with an author and check out the other group. I also got an invitation to an exclusive formal event on August 20th, which will be with other like-minded folks. Bowling is done until winter. I have guitar. I’ll have a mini-golf team this fall.
I’m still not going to swipe.
Yesterday my best friend and I swept all the masonry in the back garden. She fell in love with the view, the creek that feeds into the river, and the garden. She had her husband come over and work the numbers with their loan officer. They want to buy a house for their kids. The realtor came by and photographed all the issues with workmanship. She hugged my best friend and went to hug me and I said, “I’m way too sweaty. I’m a dirty hippy right now.” She said, “She is sweaty too; I felt it.” I laughed and said, “She’s definitely glistening.” Then they both complimented each other on their outfits.
She told me what the next steps are. We should be able to do a walk through on the weekend, but I can’t personally on Monday because I work all day and have dinner with the author and a group. The realtor leaves for Germany on Tuesday. She’ll been in France and Spain next to walk the Camino. I think that she’s back mid-August. I’d imagine that we sell the house either to my best friend, or sometime at the end of summer.
She’s so competent and sexy. My best friend told me that she’s going to tell her that I like her and I said, “Don’t. We’ve been through that. When we hike the summit, I’ll bring the Ballet Dancer so I have a buffer.” She said, “You’re going to have to start hugging her. That’s just her.”
ARG. It sucks sometimes to just be attracted to women. It will be interesting to be back at work and see the climber. She always misses the first two weeks of work because of Burning Man. I really hope that by then I’ve had some dates. Again, I’m not going to force anything, but it would be nice to have some kissing–not sweaty hugs though.
I can stop the three jobs that I have currently in six-years. I want to work outside and also want to work 20-hours a week. I think that with the bank holidays I have 16-weeks off every year, and really have no idea how people have 2 or none. My work wears me out. I don’t see myself retiring for another 17-years, but I do see myself working way less. I’ll be so excited not to have a mortgage in 6-years too. I think that I can start pulling from my pension when I’m 59-and-a-half, which is about 10-and-a-half-years from right now.
The house looks pretty good. I went over there last night before my guitar class. To me, it’s just making sure that the carpet is ok, the carport security door has been fixed, and there is damage to the closet door (hollow core) in the basement bedroom now. Otherwise, I know that the new Project Manager would like all outlet covers and light switch plates matching and are, well, on. I think that they put silicon on the wasp hole. There was zero activity. I saw one more Chinese Elm in the day lilies, and think that we should buy a few plants for the garden beds, and my best friend is going to help with that tomorrow morning. I may put Round Up in the driveway on the cracks. If there is any chance of rain or any wind, I won’t. I don’t use it at my house because of butterflies and bees, but where the house that I’m selling is there are mostly lawns and such. People don’t seem to think about impact over there. Hopefully, the realtor and I can complete the final walkthrough with the company this week. Hopefully, she won’t hug me.
Yesterday marked a year from when my son has to move out of my house. After he does I’m going to take everything out of my house. I want a fresh start and whole vibe here. The porch extension will start that feeling. I’d like to begin that in May of next year so that it’s done before the heat ensues.
Climate change is really odd here in the desert. We have just begun extremities. The spring was incredibly wet, and once we were a month into summer, we started having extreme heat. I think that means that some March seasons we could get 4-5 feet of snow. It melts here because of our elevation, but that will be another extremity.
Last night I woke up right at midnight and was super hot. I think that it was 79 in my house. I noticed that my son and his girlfriend weren’t home yet and was surprised. I went back to my room and heard them about 10-minutes later and then they were gone. I texted and called him and they went to the gas station to get snacks. Teenagers are so gross. I really struggle with his huge stomach. I wish that he cared, but he doesn’t, and he has a really nice face so girls don’t seem to care either. He said that they had fun dancing. I doubt that I’ll see him before I leave this morning. I have to take our long haired cat to the groomers and plan to walk for about 45-minutes and then I’m going to read. We’ll see what he talks about with respect to the climber when I see him before I go bowling.
Years ago when my son was breaking laws and getting into trouble at school I heard a book review of “Far from the Tree,” and then I read more about the book. I finally ordered it as a used copy. If you’ve never used abebooks, you really should because you just pay to have books shipped to you. You can get almost anything for a few dollars. Anyway, it is so thick! It’s also great. I have just started the chapter on deafness. It would be great if I could finish it by August 13th. After that day, I’m back in the work tunnel!
Today was a good day. I had lunch with a former colleague and took my son to a bus station so he could see his girlfriend. He and I biked two miles this morning and did 20-minutes of cardio as well. I just didn’t climb today, which is a small bummer because my friend went with her son. I’ll go next week, but they’ll be in Belize. I’m not doing Zumba tomorrow. I’m hiking 5-7 miles with my son’s godmother.
At the house, there is so much progress. The tile is completed in the bathroom and the painters shellacked the walls and repainted after putting plastic on the carpet. Now, it’s fixing the carpet so it looks cleaner on the stairs and doing a deep clean. The company is nearly done with the backyard landscaping and my son and I pulled all the weeds up front and I took out the Chinese Elms which had volunteered everywhere. I also mowed. I think that the folks across the street will regret turning down my low offer. It’s going to have lots of curb appeal and the inside will look great!
Last night I was getting some thinly veiled criticism at worst and definitely some challenges regarding to my never co-habiting or merging finances again. I tried to explain the concepts in relationship anarchy and two of the women at our dinner party got stuck on how you de-escalate with someone. I think that, for me, anyway I will always make clear that I won’t live with anyone or have money decisions that are collaborative. It’s funny because I’m super generous. I’d happily pay for hotel rooms and the like. I just don’t want anything day-to-day. If you keep that consistent and don’t deviate from it, then you’d never have need for a separate conversation about de-escalation. Another woman said that she couldn’t be emotionally intimate with more than one person. I told her that I have larger amounts of emotional intimacy with friends anyway and that my best friend knows more about me than my two ex-spouses combined. It doesn’t have to make sense to everyone. It’s my life.
At lunch today I told my former colleague about the lack of understanding and she was shocked. She said, “I would have defended you!” She asked if they knew any truly happy marriages and I told her one woman had never been married, the other had worked through lots of problems in counseling, and that my best friend loves her husband and jokes about spending all of his money. She basically gave that look that meant, “Case in point.”
I’m so excited for this week!!! I have a small group discussion with one group that I belong to and perhaps dinner with the author and another meet up as well. I have the normal stuff with guitar and our last game of bowling too. Incidentally, I got a turkey+ (4 strikes) in my third game. That was quite the ego boost. There is a good vibe right now and I’m grateful.
Yesterday was emotionally intense. Around 3 I got a text from my Realtor and she told me that she had hung up with the Chief Operating Officer (COO) of the company who puts together projects for home sales. He felt badly about my getting stung at the house and winding up in Urgent Care, so he’s hiring out the landscaping. He called me about an hour later and told me that he was sorry. That went a long way for me. This process has been a complete freakshow. I liked having that acknowledged. I’m still going to write him out a timeline of everything. The house was supposed to be listed 7/1 and the company said that we could after 6/16. Here we are!
Shortly after I hung up with the COO, another Project Manager called me. He and I are meeting with landscaper today, and I’m hoping that we’ll also have time before I bowl tonight to document in pictures the horrible work and destruction. I want to also show him all the messes–like dumping joint compound and paint into the carport. I also want him to have photos that he takes and uploads of the destroyed sleeper sofa to the front facing app that the company uses for project updates. I wonder if there is paint on the carpet or problems under where they put it in the now finished basement? That wouldn’t shock me.
The day before the neighbors who want to buy the house cancelled a meeting with my Realtor and hired a Realtor. I was so upset. Mine explained to me that just means that they have to pay her and pay theirs. It’s dumb. Also, it makes me feel as if they don’t trust me at all. So, I’ve made a decision. The house is worth 525k now, and so they can have it for 500k. If that isn’t acceptable, I’ll get it looking pristine and we’ll go through the whole staging process–I have things to put in it–and list it. It will sell for well over 525k then, and I don’t need the money soon anyway.
I have decided that one thing that I want is a porch extension. I don’t like shoes in house. I want to design a little entryway because my porch is scary and people fall off of it anyway due to the height, and I’d like the sides of the small entryway to have boxes inside. I’ll call it the shoebox. People can put their shoes in the boxes. They put them back on when they leave. I’m going to use the money for it and then get the rest in CDs and another account so I can move $7,500 a year into my IRA. I don’t want my lifestyle to shift very much. I do want that one thing: the shoebox. There are certainly other things that I want to do in my old house, but can do them anyway when I’m not paying monthly maintenance to my ex-wife. Two payments left!
So, my Realtor is to thank for this shift. She and I had to text much of the day yesterday. She’s such an ace.
It’s been weird to work on the house. It made me think of my Dad a whole bunch too, and I scanned a picture of me in elementary school and one of him from high school and made a FB post. I look identical to him. My son does too, but has brown hair and blue eyes, so people don’t see the resemblance which is uncanny, because people are obsessed with skin and eye color. Good old threads of racism. Anyway, it’s just been heavy.
As a result of all the emotion and the savior complex that now I’ve put the Realtor in, I had another dream about her. It was one of those where she was coming onto me and I was confused by it. We did wind up kissing and such. It’s a dream, and I don’t confuse it with reality. I also don’t touch or hug her. I’m good with boundaries. Crushes, even when you’re 48-years-old are just sucky.
I was born in the city that I live in; however, my Dad was in a Civil Engineering program 25-miles away so I was first taken as a newborn to married student housing. We moved when I was 13-months, and then we moved all the time literally. This particular move was because my Dad dropped out of the program. I was always thinly blamed for that, which is so stupid. I didn’t ask to be born.
I guess that I had wicked colic. My Mom never much of an eater, and she said that I just basically screamed all the time; but given that my Mom really only liked coffee and cigarettes, I’m sure that my food wasn’t nourishing. I was weaned at 3-months. My Mom was obsessed with me. She held me while I slept. I eventually slept in 16-hour stretches. I guess until I could move around, I was dissociative 🙂 May have had something to do with the fact that my Dad wanted to leave me to die in the snow when I was screaming. My Mom told me that. He decided against it and when I was 5-months, I wasn’t colicky anymore.
On the fourth of July in 1981, I climbed up the hill behind the four-plex that we were renting at the time and got comfortable. That was the only time in my life that I have ever been stung by a bee. When bees sting you, they die and the barb stays. I’d been stung on the wrist and my arm looked like Popeye that night. I love bees. I know that if I hadn’t probably almost squished it in the clover where it was working, it wouldn’t have stung me. My arm was HUGE and we had to keep mixing a paste of meat tenderizer for it. My Mom did that many times and then I started doing it. I was 7-years-old when I got my first sting.
I do not love wasps. I do not love hornets. I have a complete disdain for yellow jacket wasps.
I have to complete all the conditions of probate. I have to file estate taxes by next June. I have to obtain a Personal Representatives Deed. Since 2014 these are many types of tasks that I have had to do. It’s well different than fighting with doctors who wouldn’t let my Mom get surgery, wouldn’t let my Dad take Seroquel, etc. He couldn’t even have one shot of whiskey. Not one. He asked the Medicaid Physician to kill him in November of 2019 and the rounding doctor said he wasn’t terminal. He told my Dad to pray. My Dad told him that he was an atheist. The doctor said, “Pray for death.” Did it work? He got COVID 5-months later.
My son and I went to the house to use weed whackers, but because the soil is so good the prickly lettuce was like bamboo. The Russian thistle could mostly be pulled, but some really had thick stalks. We borrowed hand shears and a bypass lopper from a neighbor. This neighbor wants to buy the house. That would be great. We could stop doing yard work then because I could sell it for 20k less.
The whole thing is Monopoly money anyway. 75k goes to my ex-wife and I have to ensure that I don’t do anything which will result in my having to pay capital gains taxes. Luckily, the final estate appraisal fee can come out of the estate account. There is very little money in there and I’ve already paid $6787.03 out of my pocket, and don’t want to pay anything again. Oddly, that is about what my debt is for the the next 19-months. Almost to the penny. I thought of it as the retainer for the lawyer, new engine mounts for my vehicle, and the trees and irrigation system, but it was really about what I was short this year. I know it didn’t help to be paying maintenance.
The subcontractors who work for the company that gets their piece of the Monopoly money pile at closing are actual shitty people. New things were Cheeto shrapnel, Monster cans and a divided lime. The latter was on the mailbox. When I moved it, a yellow jacket decided to sting me. I think he wanted the lime for a food home. I was able to do 3-hours of yard work, and it certainly hurt. However, yesterday my hand was disappearing. I went back and forth to Urgent Care because my insurance had changed and I initially had forgotten my cellphone. Anyway, it got so gross last night even through two Prednisone. I know that I’m not technically allergic to stings, but I do get weird reactions. I hope that I can bowl on Wednesday. The oven mitt that my hand has become reminded me of my first sting, and how these subcontractors are really unprofessional and sloppy.
Fat, red, swollen hand is difficult to use. Last night it was also past the wrist and 2/3 of the way up my forearm
Climbing on auto belay is frightening. When you fall, you fall a few feet and you need to make sure that you place your feet toward the wall. You can start whacking your body and your face on hand and footholds. We got there and the wall wasn’t open. So, we bouldered. Just like me I got up the rock really quick and then had no idea how to get down. I’m the same on a summit. I can get up really fast–especially for my age–but my janky left knee makes going down really slow. I need to start bringing my trekking poles.
Anyway, we stopped bouldering because we were burning our forearms. We weren’t pumped. The rock was way too hot. I think it was 94. Then we talked. My friend has grown impatient. Her partner’s ex-wife hasn’t moved out of the house yet, and they’ve been in relationship 16-months. They had a chat recently and my friend’s partner told her, “I know that I’m not giving you what you need and deserve.” She almost cried. I feel so badly for her situation.
I went ahead and went to the bar to be in air conditioning, have beer and tons of water after we climbed. I had a couple of good conversations. The crowd was really, really young. The nice guy met me late and we put our names in to sing and weren’t called so we left and went to the good venue. He had to work today so he got tired and we didn’t sing there either, but he only smoked a tiny amount of pot at the good venue and we both ate there so he was cool. He also is addressing his codependency and not obsessing on the girl in FL right now. We had wonderful conversations.
I’ve got less than 80-pages left in Gahran (2017). I think that I have had some shifts. If you’re not looking for a traditional beginning, middle and end upon death, you might want a partner just like a friend. I had learned in Fosse (2021) that relationships without demands and expectations tend to cause less of a need for therapy. I got that then. Now, I think that I’m coming to wanting some partners who are just like a friend to me. Having a great time in that moment and then navigating how often she would like to see me. I spend so many days quietly in my house when I’m not working. I may not get a text or personal email all day. I’m good at it. The only time I get lonely is during holidays. I think that my workaround would be doing something huge or otherwise epic for a holiday.
Yesterday, our teacher and safety person at the wall said that he climbed a difficult Class 3 long mountain on the 4th. Why didn’t I do something like that? Not a difficult Class 3 with no partner, but something fun and different. I think it’s because I am usually around for my son. He’s really busy with his girlfriend most of the time these days and does family stuff with her family. I don’t want to join or do I want to seek out a close friendship with her parents. They’re nice. Her mother shot lots of prom pictures for Senior Prom. I just don’t feel close to them, or immediately drawn.
In ten-days I have a new Meet Up that was directly recommended to me. I am excited. Three-days after that I have a women’s discussion potluck Meet Up. Again, I’m excited. I am actively making new friends. I’m going to have coffee with a new mentor before I go back to my full-time job and start teaching a class that I’ve taught a whole bunch of times. I need to add some neuroscience in it, but that won’t be a heavy lift for me. However, I ought to start this ten-month working cycle with way less stress. The house will be sold. I will not be paying any maintenance. I’ll have been divorced a year. My son is not in high school. And, I have new friends who have more experience than my limited and dated experience with ethical nonmonogamy.
I feel so much better today compared to the way that I felt yesterday. I was just heavy and low.
Zumba was actually cute. I’m still hideous, but don’t care one bit. My son went with me! He is actually a really good dancer so although he had no clue about the steps and turns, he just danced his ass off! He got in the car in an “Iron Maiden” t-shirt which is so funny. He dresses like the boys that I hung out with on the smoking pad (patio) next to our lunchroom in high school, but tends to wear very tight jeans. He had on his plaid wool cap too. He looked a bit like Matt Dillon in “Singles” as well. I put my foot down and made him change into the sweatpants that I bring in the car, which are usually for when I pick him up in the morning at a friend’s house and he smells like death. I have drum sticks and a North Face t-shirt too that I keep in my car. I thanked him for dancing with me. He’ll dance with his current girlfriend at the climber’s house on the 25th too. I’m so glad he’s moving. It has been so alarming to watch him gain so much weight since the pandemic.
I finished “Broken Horses.” Although I really don’t desire ever to speak to my ex-wife again, I’m so grateful that she introduced me to Brandi Carlile. We saw her 5 times together, I think. She’s phenomenal and her book is so raw, vulnerable, and authentic. It makes you want to chill with her.
I have book club this afternoon. “The Devil’s Rooming House” was really good. I like to read books that are put together with research and don’t get into the psychology very heavily, because then I can do diagnostic decision trees in my head while I read it. Not that I would ever want to touch murderer’s diagnoses, but it’s fun intellectually. I’ll leave that stuff to people like James Garbarino.
I think that some of my mood was because my son was so nice. He walked the dogs with me on Friday night, and went to Zumba. He rarely does anything without being asked. And, I have to be on his ass constantly about doing his laundry and ordering his room before he leaves to be with his girlfriend. He was nice for many hours and then spent the day with his Dad, and I really don’t have money right now to go out, so I read, weeded, and hung out with my pets. I think that yesterday was just derivative mostly of the quiet reflection and some of the things that I’m going through currently are in fact, sad.
I refilled my shower gel and met a sweet runt Norwegian Elk Hound and the proprietor told me that her name is Smokey and that she has so many nicknames that Smokey is just one of her names. I told her about the name cluster chart for one of my cats, and she got it. That is the first time that anyone has understood how nicknames can have other off shoots from other nicknames and why I’d have a chart of that. She was my brand of weirdo. I love weirdos.
I thought about my Mom.
I thought about my son.
I thought about how I’m a weirdo and that was one thing that my ex-wife just got.
I thought about how weird it is that I’ll be selling this house soon.
The good thing was that my sad, psychic energy reached my mentor. She texted me out of the blue with my sign-in note from her art show that she had in 2015 or so. Then she sent me some of her work that she’ll be showing soon in Santa Fe. I saw something that no one had. After a bit she asked how I was and I said pretty low today. She said that she was glad to connect in those valleys. I love her. She’ll be traveling soon, and I’ll get to see her. I’m really lucky.
I guess that I better use a little bit of this momentum and walk my dogs and scoop litter. Then I can lift before I shower and go to book club. I don’t know if I’ll see (except briefly) my son until afternoon. He’s walking home from his Dad’s apartment in a couple of hours. I’ll cook chicken piccata tonight. I think that I’ll have him bike with me to Whole Foods to select a veggie. Costco didn’t have brussels sprouts when we went on Friday, and that was a small tragedy. Again, I own that I’m a weirdo.
These are some drawings that my Dad did which I found in a footlocker one time
I dreamt about the Realtor…again. I met her for dinner and my son was sitting by me and my best friend would be joining. The waiter got really antsy. I looked like shit. I was un-showered in my Adventure Time t-shirt and some beat-up jeans and the Realtor looked gorgeous and was confident and poised like she usually is. My son was quiet–so I know that is a dream. Finally, the Realtor went out to the parking lot after sending a text and came back in fairly quickly and then she got out a P-card from her firm. She was going to run it in the remote credit card machine, and then changed her mind and whipped out another card that was my best friend’s and the waiter balked. She explained to him that my best friend was out in the parking lot–parking–and would be joining. She got there just in time for us to toast–my son had a Pellegrino–and I reminded my son and best friend to make eye contact. I didn’t have to remind the Realtor.
My son asked me yesterday if I’d heard from the climber and I told him no. He asked why I don’t text her, and I said that I don’t chase. I also told him that she is Batman. I recall when we were in my bed after the ballet and she was talking about comets. I didn’t know what the hell she was talking about really, because I wasn’t as well read as I am now:
“The Polyamorists Next Door”
“The Many Faces of Polyamory: Longing and Belonging in Concurrent Relationships”
“Plural Loves”
“The Ethical Slut”
“Stepping off the Relationship Escalator: Uncommon Love and Life” came yesterday, but I want to finish “Broken Horses” first. I had to read “The Devil’s Rooming House” within 24-hours so I’m ready for book club on Sunday in between things too. But, I digress.
The climber is Batman because she is a satellite to me. She’s not a comet. She has a signal. My son was at her house a couple of weeks ago dancing. I work with her some weeks–I have to say some because she doesn’t sleep, but instead adventures to the max so sometimes literally is still elsewhere on Sunday nights or Monday mornings–and can feel her office when I’m at work. She’s Batman because there is a bat signal that emanates from her home, which is blocks from mine, from conversations with colleagues at times, in my car for commutes, and of course occasionally in the building.
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