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.