The best thing for me to do when *angry* is take a walk...

So,

yet another example of communications gone awry:

1. Friend goes elsewhere after borrowing transportation money...

2. I get a text asking for a phone number of a friend of hers, from someone else (reason being her phone died?)

3. I send a text asking for permission to furnish the phone number to the asker; and meanwhile ass-dial the person as well.  (wasn't in the plan but I roll with it).

4. That person asks me to get my friend to call her....

and friend texts me back ask tells me I'm being a stalker and blowing up phones.

And... don't contact any of her people again.  So I deleted all of them.

So I went for a walk.

Why do I bother?

reality check

Pain is like fog

it creeps on little cat feet.


If you sleep with someone, and they have to get *drunk* to do it; they're probably not the one.
If the presentation is sensational, and the follow-thru is mediocre, they're probably not the one.
If the professed occupation is *dancer* (meaning stripper) and the reality is prostitute... they are not the one.
If Zero to Sixty includes a rage-aholic, and the difference between them sucking your cock or clit and coming after you with a kitchen knife is a heartbeat; they *definitely* are not the one.
If they happen to have a brain the size of a planet; but the only thing they are using it for is to play "poor poor Pitiful me", then they're not even remotely the one, especially with a alcohol / meth addiction.
What, you didn't think I'd notice that you're shit-faced most of the day?
What worries me more is that I'm still here.

Promises made and broken

I have to be my own worst enemy,
and also that of my friend, the one with an addiction disorder unfortunately.

. She will stop drinking.  If She does drink, She won't do it around us.  If She feel that she is losing control, She will leave.  So, what do I do?  I allow her to drink (because she will seize without detox) and furnish alcohol she can get to.  It's also interesting because her other friends can furnish her with alcohol (party) and although she complains about it, she goes back willingly and whether or not other activities occur... I have no idea.  But I'm *different* -- BullShit.

. She will provide $$$ / week and some cleaning help.  That one is mixed, she's intermittent on the money (which to be fair... I told her she could slide because I didn't want to have her *work* because it's damaging to her soul / psyche).  I would much rather have her whole...  But she cleans like no-one I've seen since a professional service.

. She will fix (list of items).  Most of which, cannot be worked on when she's drunk; which provides a barrier to completion. 

. She will no longer talk to (insert list of names here) because they are damaging to her mental health, sobriety and makes her angry.  And, yet, between drunken dialing by *them*, and her response; the cycle continues.  Using my phone...

. She will tell the truth about what she have ingested.  That one seems to be holding, but I have my occasional fears...

. She will take care with the household; I won't endanger anyone. Your mileage may vary.  If I fly to elsewhere for the holidays, are we all safe?

. She won't make accusations (rape) because she is angry.

. She won't get violent.  I've got an interesting set of stitches that say otherwise.  And the morning of this posting, she sounded and acted *exactly* like she did when she went after me with a kitchen knife; so forgive me if I am a little untrusting.

But, mostly... because she's still drinking.  And she has to stop.  And I don't have any leverage or control; so it is not my problem.

And I'm an enabler.  Some of that because I'm infatuated with the amazing person she can be when...

Some of that because when she's slightly tipsy; she's amazingly friendly/funny/cuddly/sexy.  That messes me up more than anything else; because I know what I want --- and the little lizard brain is damm sneaky that way.  Just because I feel that way, does NOT mean that she will, and she most certainly does not.  Still want to F***, dammit.

But it feels like it is my problem; and enabling aside... it isn't.  But I care and that hurts.

Anger is like Scotch

Anger *is* like scotch.
It can be light and dizzying; or dark and stick around in your mouth for much longer.

I don't have good reason, but I'm annoyed at one roommate for doing what he does on a regular basis; e.g. being unaware of his effect on others.  So, leaving dishes and other meal prep in disarray is *ok* for him, because he's "going to get back to it really soon now". 

And, telling him that he has to clean up his act there, and other  places (like paying bills) isn't going to play well.  <sigh>

Then I have to deal with my *fears* about the other roommates; the metaphorical elephant in the room, the alcoholic with some other issues.  It doesn't matter whether or not it's my responsibility or not... I still feel betrayed when she falls down; and it ISN'T my problem

Maybe someday...

I will get over it.

Apparently not today.

I'm not making enough money to cover bills; and I cannot squeeze the roommates for any more, it isn't fair; but life isn't fair... and I'm screwed.

So, rather than interact (badly) with both of them, who don't deserve it...  I am writing this.

It doesn't help (really) with the desire to kick one out, and F*** the other... but I'm working on it.

maybe someday.

Family

So today was a good day.
We went out and did the Farmer's market shopping, knife sharpening, little gifts and consumables, and eventually the cheese and Dairy shop in town (somewhere in Oregon).
My mom (all of 97 3/4 years of  experience) walked and enjoyed... something that becomes rarer as time grows short.  And it does grow short, I know.

Only last year, we thought we were going to lose her because she broke her femur / hip in a fall, and yet she recovered.  She's still not walking 2 miles a day, but she's doing at least a half-mile and the exercise room pretty much daily.  At 97 remember.  Her brother is 101, and still with us, abiet somewhat more frail.

My boot (Nevados hiking boot) lost it's heel, and the local cobbler in town fixed it for free.
It doesn't get any better than that.

I bought cheese, my mom had ice cream, it was a good afternoon.

Then, a friend and his wife came over (30 minute drive) to have dinner with us (sister, sister's partner, mom and myself).  Between dinner and a board game (Meme) afterwards, I felt like a real person.

I even talked to my neighbor, who is supporting the effort at home to maintain normalcy.

Life is good.

So why do I feel sad?

orbit decaying

Anger and tears, out of control
frustration and anger
darkness in my soul.
I weep for what was
and could not remain
I cry in anger
in fear
and in shame.
Helping or not
do or do not
That which is real
and that which is not.
Just  because a person
tries hard to do right
doesn't mean it's easy
or obvious in sight.
You cannot help an addict
or change their course
you only can remove
obstacles
of course.
But being good
isn't easy of course
baser impulses notwhitstanding
I falter, I fear
I don't have the answer
I'm no longer clear.
The knife or the bottle,
it matters not.
Like a fly in amber
I'm caught.
My penance, my burden
my path and my rue
I don't have the answer
I cannot tell you.

Insert swear words here - instead of at her

Damm.  Again.  Well, with the grand performance (two in one night), I'm guessing she made enough to fly.  Enough already.

I'm extremely annoyed / pissed; which means anything I do after the incident will be *bad*.  How bad?, well....

I didn't get stabbed/cut or arrested.

She doesn't *apparently* have keys; lost them at a client's house, along with her phone apparently.

I deleted her profile info backup copy on my phone (her phone list as of the last time she broke her phone in half); deleted the photo of her transcribed contact list (because I was going to give her the paper copy -- and didn't want her to lose it -- but she did anyway),  not my problem anymore.

All this stems from me responding to her writing on her message-board (whiteboard) "Questions are to be directed to the respondant" (which makes sense), with "Ask and ye shall receive" and "something implying agape love..." which was my acknowledgement.

I thought I was being witty.  Apparently I wasn't.

Then she got a message from a client who's a ?minister? and she had what I thought was mis-directed rage.  Apparently, I didn't help by putting a message with "love" on her board. 

So, I am the piñata.

[update - I spoke with my roommate and he said that she's been upset with me for days; apparently I'm still triggering her as opposed to being just a good friend.  I'm out of clues; and she's still pissed.]
---

At least this time I didn't get stabbed.

Life is a bitch. 

I feel better now.

Do or do not, there is *no* try.

look what the cat dragged in

I let her back in the building a couple days ago...

She looked SO pathetic...

Police kicked her loose.  O.R.  (own recognizance -- hmm, google isn't helping with spelling?)

She's got a cheat sheet that says she was *never* arrested;  just *held* for 2-3 days...  wtf?

Don't look a gift h(ore)se in the mouth...

we will talk.

....


Later

...

Back to drinking and being a little edgy. 

Oh well...  (you know the remark about being less than you can be?)

Mea maxima culpa (again).

I failed my friend.  (She returned the favour).

Yesterday my friend and roommate cleaned the house.  This is one of the ways she showed her appreciation for the roommate situation.  Since she cannot accept charity in any form, she MUST trade...
Because her significant Ex- has returned; she's been stressing about whether or not to see him again.  She hasn't seen him since she fled last year.  They have a tumultuous relationship, and she's not good when someone beats her which she told me he did.  It is part of her past, and she doesn't deal well when she thinks it will re-occur.

So, she decided to get drunk.  I, in an extremely stupid moment, decided to accompany her (so that she wouldn't wander off... (like to skid row or Bikini Girls Bar somewhere in Orange...)) to the bar.  I should have said "HELL NO" or at least tried to keep her from going.

Bartender Brian, random guy named Matthew on the next barstool over.
She orders doubles at the bar, starts flirting / making out with the next guy on the stool over, and I'm as usual at a loss.  Two beers for me, and three doubles for her; and she invites him back to my home (hers also) for dinner.  She exits, he tells me that I should get her home... He said "she's getting weird".

So, I go outside and think she's going to walk home with me.  She wants the guy to come; and I tell her he declined... so she crosses the boulevard *into traffic* and I follow, holding her purse.  She tells me to  F* off, and crosses back, grabs a guy across the street and heads east. She falls down, I cross over (I think I got this part right) and she spews invective at me when I tell her that she asked me to remind her of the women in the rehab she left a couple weeks ago.

I slapped her.  Two beers and a bit of her drink still doesn't excuse it...

That is the one thing that absolutely won't fly.  And it's my fault. If I hadn't gone with her to the bar, and had not drank the beer, hadn't followed her back across the street, and hadn't slapped her; I would be fine.  She'd be f*d, but I'd be clean at least.

I betrayed her trust.

A couple of interested parties who happened to be hanging at the outdoor bar, came over to tell us to chill out. One I think was an under-cover cop by identifying his ride...

I called the police (911) told them I slapped her,  and waited while she continued to tell me to leave; (because I know if I don't report it and she does... ) and the police didn't come.  After a half hour... I called them back at dispatch, and said I was going home; if they wanted to collect my statement there.

Once I walked home ALONE, I went upstairs to the bathroom to do the necessary, gathered up a couple glasses on the sink and the empty bottle from the trash; and started walking down the stairs.

She was there (surprise!) just below the landing I was standing on, holding a kitchen knife.  I literally froze, either I grabbed her or she swung,  and I fell and/or she lost her balance and fell, and I found myself on the kitchen floor; I landed on my head and ass (judging by how much my tailbone hurts today).  She either followed me down, or I pulled her down with me when I fell; and she was biting my face when I landed.  I'm confused.

Blood everywhere. 

She was yelling at me, and putting a towel tourniquet on my arm... then I think she removed my belt.
I took out my phone and called 911 and said I've been cut, and my address.  She's yelling at the dispatcher to hurry, because I'm bleeding.
And I'm dizzy.
I wondered why she was yelling.

Police came, EMTs came, somehow she made my belt the tourniquet because the EMTs had trouble removing it and I got loaded into an ambulance.
I was nauseous the whole way.

My other roommate told me that she was taken away in handcuffs.

I don't have any way to apologize, and more to the point... I'm not sure how I can.

I'm pretty sure the DA will come back with domestic-assault for me; it's kinda expected.  Sucks, but then again...

I'm not sure what will happen to her.

But I failed.  I knew of the triggers.

Frustration and fear

My friend apparently fell off the wagon again.  And yesterday, that looks like it might include the other recreational substance.  Damm.

I think she reached out to the wrong friend.

I bet she lies... but
I was hoping.

And I'm reminded of the cartoon "Mother Goose and Grimm"

"Tomorrow I get to poop again".

I can't find the picture at the moment, but Grimm is standing there (he's a dog), with a pleased look on his face....

Mom's feeling better, Now we see if it continues.



https://www.google.com/search?q=www.grimmy.com+images

Sunrise... Sunset... once more around the steeple

I was checking in with my sister about the flight (for her wedding), and she told me that Mom is in the hospital again.   Now, Mom is 97 so it's not a big surprise; but she was doing very well.
This happens I suppose, but it isn't something I like to contemplate.

My friend just lost their husband; and another friend in the same group is probably going to lose his father.  And this doesn't make me feel good about it.

I've got a flight scheduled, but now it might change...  and I'm scared/sad.

I just checked in, and my sister said Mom is asleep... so I'll check back later.

hope...

I'm going to rant for a bit... (what's new?)

So, in the last 4 days; I've driven to downtown LA (skid row area) 4 times, and twice in one evening, because I couldn't find her; she'd passed out in an alley and the only reason she didn't get raped/murdered was because some angel in disguise as another homeless dude protected her.
So, she slept off her binge in his place, called me the next day; and I picked her up.

She (insert expletives here) then wants to go down to OC and somehow (not hard -- face it I'm a easy mark), talks me into driving.  She's going to take the train back after seeing one of her kids.

Except, the last train leaves before it's convenient.  So, I get tasked with picking her up.  Again.
And she insists on stopping (to pee), but finds a bikini stripper bar instead and does shots.  She asks me for money (remember, I'm trying to be a straight arrow, right?), and when I don't --- tells me to F*** off and then leaves  with the guys she just met....  I'm supposed to follow but they lost me in about 5 seconds.  I wasn't able to stick...  She then calls my cell and tells me to go home.
Yay.
After I go 70 miles home; because there's no point; she calls because after the party, her "new friends" dropped her off at an emergency clinic; and she's dissing the staff because she's drunk and bails... I drive the 60-70 miles downtown (again) and find her in an alley, and she's incapable of getting to her feet unassisted.  Interesting fact, the homeless couple also in the area start to come to her rescue; just in case I'm a creep.

So, an hour plus later... I get home and she won't get out of the car.  It's my fault --- right?
She's also not breathing "right".  I took her to the local (to me) emergency; and the're understaffed, and can't get her out of the car.  She declines treatment (somebody kicked the crap out of her chest); and just wants to go home.

Oh, but to make it more interesting, she tells the security guard / EMT that I'm raping her.
So, police are called and she's irate because I won't leave until interviewed.  Like I really want to be hassled at home...

So, she smokes in my car, tells the cops that she "just wants to go home", and I'm so upset/angry that I can't separate the feeling that I want to leave her there, from the one that I want to tear off her head and sh** down her throat.  Yay.  Because,  it just isn't worth it.

Thanks, I feel better.

Roaches are the new normal. A complaint letter because...

My friend and I were a little discomfited to encounter one of the largest roaches I have ever seen in a motel.

I realize that nothing will stop them indefinitely; but it was upsetting to her to encounter one in bare feet as we were retiring. She (and then I) attempted to speak with the manager about this; and as of this writing (to be fair, only about 4 hours)... I have not received a callback from him/her.

Also, (and I notified the Santa Ana PD via tipline), we were accosted by a "gentleman" selling glass (meth) in the wee morning hours;  he then returned to harass my friend as she was checking out.  And she's streetwise, but still was scared.  I realize that the real world does intrude on the ordinary; but ...

She's stayed there at that location for years, it is convenient for her work schedule and she feels comfortable there... usually.  Spending $89 for a room may be standard at this point, but it seems to have been a little less comfortable than usual.

Pictures attached.  (I actually feel sorry for the critter, he wasn't trying to upset us)

And back again...

I can't tell if I'm more relieved or pissed.  I'm going with relieved.

The scariest thought of all is "How do I control this?"  Oh wait... it's not my place to control; not that I could, even if I was under the delusion that I should...

In the end, I'm grateful for the fact that she's safe.

Now, how do I get rid of this obsessive / compulsive mindset?  I just need to be less involved (as in don't let it affect me).

o
o
o

I just hope she didn't bring home passengers (lice, fleas...)

it's a paranoia - thing.

And again... what I get for my birthday is...

She went out wandering again.  I spoke to her Saturday night, and she was present and lucid.
Sometime later, not so much. She left all her stuff (ID, keys, wallet, purse) on her bed and vanished.
Either with the guy who feeds her drugs (meth?) [[theory]] or the homeless encampment where she has made friends.  either way, I'm powerless.  I can't help. 

The other thing, I was hoping to see her ...

I just get to wait.

And that happened...

The roommate drama just keeps on getting better.

Yesterday, she sold her car and cried about the loss.  Which makes sense, lots of memories triggered by the vehicle.  She went to college in it, took her kids camping, et al.

But, immediately after.... goes and gets alcohol.  Oh wait, snap.  She's an alcoholic.  Then she skies off with a guy who's definitely bad news for her (or anyone else). 

So, he leaves her about 100 miles away, in Carpinteria.  Just drives away.
So, we do the uber dance today... because some kind soul took her in for the night.  (I don't want to imagine the alternate consequences).

She's going to leave town.  So she says.  Tonight.

I'd lay money on it being an air-biscuit; but you never really know.  All I know, is I'm not in the mood.

Patience is a virtue.

Snoopy: "Patience my ass..."

Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy... ?

I've had an epiphany.  Not the one I like either.  I have a person, let's call her that... who is absolutely fucking brilliant, and troubled.  In fact, she's an addict, alcoholic, ...  Well, she's compensated for companionship; denies vehemently that she's having sex for money; and yet...

The problem is I really like her.  As in Really - REALLY.  But, as recent lab tests have proved; there are significant risks to having sex with a roommate.

Telling me that she was abused as a child, hence the personality disorders de jour, she justifies all her actions as coping mechanisms.  I'm not a therapist, and I do have a little lizard brain who often puts his fucking thumb on the scales when I'm trying to think.

Getting a dose didn't help (but to be fair, I don't know that it's her fault).  It's possible that I already was infected, but unlikely.

But, anyone who resembles " Belle de Jour" (IMDB) is probably not a good candidate for a relationship of any kind.

People with personality disorders are not good candidates for anything except being used as a sex-toilet and you'd better have protection.  Assuming you like that sort of thing. They're going to wreck their life, and if you are in the blast radius... you will end up in the crater as well.  She's going to poison everything she touches....

(but the little voice says " but I still really like her").


Fuck.

Mental illness isn't a sin, and I'm not a qualified therapist.

So I seem to be collecting them.  My friends, I mean.  The ones who aren't processing the world in the same way the rest of us (we think we are anyway)... are.

Some years back I dated a lady (well, better than the other pejoratives of a failed relationship).  Also, an alcoholic...  and smart as hell in a creative - emotional context - words and songs as communications way... she wrote country music (had two albums to her credit), and was impressively gifted.  She was also certifiably bug crazy nuts.  (Those are polite pejoritives people, for one who had a "personality disorder").  You never know what she will come up with next, but you know it will be interesting.

Before her, a childhood friend and object of awe while I was in high school, and I became reacquainted.  I won't dwell on it too much, but again...

The point.... I just encountered (last few weeks) yet another shining example of what is wrong with our health care system for mental illness.  And she also really really smart.  And I'm not just saying that.  My standards for that are pretty high. And I can't help her.  Maybe not be a problem, but then again... YMMV

I must have a magnet.  Somewhere I can't see.  I just know I'm not qualified. 

I'd say that I'm trying to help, but how the hell would I know?  When is it wishful thinking or rationalization?

Jesus -- the most cynical excuse on the planet

Ever notice how people do evil and then ask you if you are "saved" by Jesus?

It's a thing.  A person can be a totally selfish person, and still be welcome in heaven, because on the  deathbed or sooner... they accepted "my lord jesus christ".

I'm sorry, I don't think it works like that.

“There is no conclusive evidence of life after death, but there is no evidence of any sort against it. Soon enough you will know, so why fret about it?”
― Robert A. Heinlein, Time Enough for Love

I posit that if there is a G*d, then he/she isn't likely to take that as an excuse.

But they think so.

Burn in eternal damnation fools.  You fucked up this life, that's going to count.  Religious pundits notwithstanding, there is no such thing...


"Gospodin," he said presently, "you used an odd word earlier--odd to me, I mean..."
"Oh, 'tanstaafl.' Means ~There ain't no such thing as a free lunch.' And isn't," I added, pointing to a FREE LUNCH sign across room, "or these drinks would cost half as much. Was reminding her that anything free costs twice as much in long run or turns out worthless."

"An interesting philosophy."

"Not philosophy, fact. One way or other, what you get, you pay for."

― Robert A. Heinlein, The moon is a harsh mistress.

And I'm a jew, btw.
http://www.jewfaq.org/beliefs.htm

Transition

Your life touches mine like a Summer Breeze
Swirling then lifting then the dust settles once again.

memory is a funny thing

Back in the day when I was getting divorced; I was really down (obviously!) and listened to some music from a lesser goddess of music, who happened to fit my mood.

I ran across it today, and thought I would share.  Because I'm too lazy to embed it into the page (and don't want to chase it right now), here it is:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aAer7C-EDRU

And, now... I don't know why it doesn't just click over.

Enjoy

She's back.....

Now.  I am really confused.  She came back last week, and has been in and out since.

But, I have a roommate.  That's all.

I guess that's enough.

Why Johnny can't date...

I'm going to go out on a limb here.

First, I'm a guy (thought the penis gave it away)...

Second, I've been dating, married, divorced, at liberty and captive.... longer than most of you folk have been alive.  Not saying that your experience isn't valuable --- just that I've (mostly) had more of it, had to pick myself up off the floor and say "well, that happened", and move on.

It's by the way not limited to guys dating girls, but that's the area I'm familiar with; so bear with me.

Because of a recent change in the emotional intelligent quotient in the universe at large and America in particular, we have a shining example of imprudent, improper and unfeeling and unsympathetic behaviour used as a role model.  It is exactly like when kids idolize bad-boy (and girl) rappers or other celebrities without regard to the fallout that ensues from their choices.

I'm not going with "you are too stupid to get this", I'm going with the idea that no-one has apparently smacked you upside the head in a manner where you heard the bells, smelled the coffee and realized the error of your ways.  In fact, no-one seems to be giving you in particular feedback upon what exactly you are doing wrong.

I'm not perfect, in fact the string of ex's would significantly point to the opposite conclusion (yes I know who you are)...  but owning your mistakes is one of the first steps in correcting them.  You can't unspill milk, but next time you can at least cap the container before you knock it over.

So, what do you need to know?

1. The other person (female, in my worldview... but that's just me) needs to be respected and treated as a human, not a sex-toy, a maid or a servant.  Granting them the grace of helping you in some effort (whatever it may be) isn't the same thing as not acknowledging  their contribution, and it's not demeaning to say thanks or show appreciation.
That includes not yelling, hitting (seriously?) or otherwise abusing them and their trust.  I need to say this?  You have got to be joking... guess not.  If you cannot control your temper, physically and otherwise, do all of us a favor and get some therapy and make it work.  The world deserves better from you; you owe it... not the other way round.

2. Listen.  I cannot stress this enough; if you are just waiting for a pause in the flow of words so that you can react/defend/attack, then you are missing the point.  Actively listen (which means occasionally feed back what you heard in other words so she knows you are present), and make a mental list of the points that are important; do NOT just check off your rebuttals.

3. If you are insulted when you tell someone new that you are interested; and they are not... get over it.  Part of getting out there is the simple fact that you (no matter WHO you are) aren't going to be everybody's cuppa tea.  There are all kinds.  If you don't handle rejection well, then find ways to soft pedal it ... but avoid the cheesy workplace harassment lines -- that's just embarrassing.

4. Be gracious.  Just because you are out on a date and the server isn't meeting your expectations; treating them like crap isn't going to impress your date, and just might end any chances you have to become more than a bad memory.  It doesn't cost anymore to be polite, and often gets you better results.

5. (for the younger generation): I keep hearing kids (YES you are!) say "I want to GET WITH" that person, as a softer euphemism for fucking.  Be real, how about keeping it a little classier, and see what results. Yes, there are some who value honesty; but maybe telling how you want to stuff it in (where-ever) isn't the best message to be putting out there.

I could go on, but this really isn't a dating site.  But, yesterday I listened to some young <insert racial slur here> men talking about having sex... and was disheartened.  I'm hoping that they are in fact nobler than that, but I have my fears... and it wasn't pretty.  Not because of the ethnic aspect (I grew up in a different time), but because it showed such lack of respect for both the objects of the discussion and their own self-worth.  Perhaps it's just bragging; but still...

If you must disparage someone else because they are not that into you; perhaps you should find a mirror and take a good look.  It might not be them.

Try being a decent person; what the hell.  It might even help.

Just because you care about someone doesn't mean t they care back. Assuming otherwise just increases the heartache.
If I care about someone, whether they care back isn't the requirement. It is not conditional and assuming so doesn't
 make it so. But it still hurts a bit.

Every so often... I prove I'm a work in progress

Today I received a reminder that I can stray over the line.

I made someone uncomfortable, with "inappropriate behaviour".  Specifically, I invited them to lunch.

I'm not saying "I don't get it", I'm saying "I have to remember that the rules are more strict than I am used to" and deal with it.

Damm.

It's embarrassing....

Roommates come, Roommates Go...

Roommates come, roommates go.
What they are planning, nobody else knows.
Some stay for a while, and make it a home.
Others pass through, unaffected and alone.
Over the years, I've had quite a few.
Guys often though are less drama it's true.
Some others were pretty, vivacious, intelligent too.
A few were small minded, unhelpful, petty, and mean.
Not saying their truth, just doing their thing.
Some have remained, friends to this day.
Others pass on, never heard from you say?
It depends on the mix, to make it a home.
Not a rest-stop, not a motel;
not a place you're alone.
I have cats, they are constant.
And sometimes have friends.
It's better that way, when you don't
pretend.
In the end we are all trying
to just get along.
Some write music, some write song.
Some don't do nothing, but that isn't always wrong.
It has to suit, to be real, it has to belong.
One came, and charmed, and left within days.
Then back briefly, perhaps.... maybe to stay.
But wait, she's gone and now off she goes.
I admit to missing her and don't want it to show.
At least I didn't kill it, and maybe it'll grow.
Only time will tell me,
Only time will show.
Some times I have roommates, and sometimes I know
It's more than a feeling
More than they know.
Still searching, still hoping
not crossing that divide.
Because in the end,
ALL of this happens
inside.

poetry like flowers, is it's own excuse.

Not asked, rarely given
once seen, sometime smitten
alone we walk
eye contact barely
and yet wondering,
fairly

Could it be, would have been?
might have happened
if not then...

passed unasked
never opened
that which said, is NEVER spoken
attraction based not upon interaction
just passing by, our mind's attention

Alas, we never talked nor said
that which was inside our head
And yet, for a moment tho'
we shared something, felt it go

A moment's glance, a glimmer only
and on we marched,
unknowing.

Ghosts are the memories of past regrets. Alas, fair lass...

Last night / this morning (in the wee hours); I blew it.  When you combine scotch with an extremely intelligent, troubled, attractive person of the female persuasion, the lizard brain can rule.

I don't know (cannot imagine) what was going on during the process in her mind; but she was playing youtube videos of music that (I theorize) the lyrics were the medium of the message.

In other words, kiddies.... she was talking thru youtube videos.

And I didn't get the entire message, but allowed for more scotch, and somehow I let the lizard out.
Not much, and still...

She warned me, under certain circumstances she would be *gone*.  No goodby, no apologies, and no way to regroup.  Period.  And, I would NEVER ever hear from her again, or know about her doings.

She read a series of text messages from one desperate, angry individual.  First apologetic, then begging, then angry...  Something I knew happens when the door is open and the breeze blows in.

She has told me some things, and tried --- in her own way and style --- to let me in a little, I think.

But that's now gone.

Mea maxima culpa.  Not so much for what I did, as what I did not;  I didn't after all, provide the completely safe harbor that she needed and was asking for.  I tried... however it isn't a do-over.

<you don't need her name>, my apologies.  You'll never know.

But, I won't be that guy with the angry...

this is going to hurt a bit.  but the guilt...

again.

Letting the little brain have a voice

I interviewed a potential roommate on Friday.   She came vouch-safed by my friend Brandy, who asked me to consider her as a favour to her.  She stayed two days,  and charmed all (peter and myself).
The backround check (first pass) came back with some issues, but nothing that she hadn't already told me.  And... the lizard brain is going "she could be a GF!!!!"...  which isn't helping

I'm 60 and she's 37.  What am I thinking?  Being attracted to someone half my age (nearly) is a pretty standard meme.  It's just not a reality. (Doesn't help) What I want... isn't necessarily what exists in the universe.

She'd make a great roommate.  Somebody give me some Saltpeter for the lizard brain...

There are obvious issues, belief systems and critital thinking notwithstanding; but....
there's a LOT to like.

I don't know.

dammit. It used to be easier.

back to the Bee-Gees.

memories == tears

Sitting here listening to the tribute to the Bee-Gees, and I'm tearing up.
Memories surface, and melodies touch the depths of my mind.  I don't know the reason, or why

My eyes fill with tears of remembered fears and emotions lost; and long gone by.

Love is ephemeral and music is eternal or ... is it the other way around?

my heart is filled.


I sent a text with a photo to a friend; one of the folk (Mike's sister) goes to a place called the Cowboy Palace.... and Jeanne hasn't shown (according to Pam) in a year.  Jeanne has breast cancer.

Sadness...

Some times you just have to cry

About a month ago, I noticed that one of my cats had something weird about her paw.  It was pink and somewhat granular, and didn't look right.

I ignored it then.  A couple weeks ago, she got into an altercation with one of the other cats (the new Tom) in my house; and suddenly she had a open sore on her forehead.  It wasn't healing fast, so I put antibiotic on it (ever try to spread ointment on a cat?), and she would wash it off; which would re-open the sore and make it bleed again.

So I stopped, and waited a couple weeks.  It's still there, but I noticed that it looks like the couple toes on her right-rear foot have this pink mass which looks like a "burn" for lack of a better description.

So, thinking back... I'm worried because it presents similar to a cancer condition that I have seen before (Mr Taffy), and I'm now worried.

I did some google-searching; and I'm now fearful that it *is* a cancer, and whether benign or malignant remains to be seen.  I contacted my veterinarian (who is out of the country this week) and will have to figure out what to do next.

But, I'm pretty broke (economically challenged) and not currently funded for this sort of thing.  Last time, Mr Taffy cost me about $18,000 and I bought him about 2 years.  I'm not setup to do that again, and I'm just about in tears.

I wanted to outlive my cats, but I didn't want them to go early.  And Leiah  (and her brother Luke) are two of the sweetest Russian Blues I have had the privileged to know.

Dammit.

Some days you are the nail, other days...

I'm sitting here paying bills; or at least setting up to pay what I can with what I have.

It's always a trial, to see what I can cover and what I have to defer (but avoiding late fees) and to track to make sure I don't miss anything.

I just had a lovely conversation with two of my friends, one I've known for 30+ years and just recently become reaquainted, and one that I've known for 5 or so years and is occasionally difficult to talk to... because she's very strong minded, opinionated and doesn't always allow for another point of view.  (I'm eschewing abbreviations for the moment).

I still find myself listening to Simon and Garfunkel live...  and remembering where I came from.

https://youtu.be/B9z87viDmOo  (Sounds of Silence)


it's still not that far a stretch.