Saturday, June 24, 2006

756 Craft Fair; Back Hurting

I went to the craft fair at the fairgrounds. This is the second one this year. I go even if I don't intend to buy anything because everything is so beautiful. It most certainly isn't junk. It's like a big collection of boutiques. There are usually more than 300 vendors, and one building is all almost all foods, with samples offered (including tastes from many local wineries).

There used to be one fair per year in Rhinebeck, and one in New Paltz, Memorial Day and Labor Day. Now there are several during the year, and I don't understand why, because you overhear the vendors telling each other they haven't sold much of anything, and complaining about all the lookers and no buyers. I hear it a dozen times every visit.

Partly it's because things are so ridiculously expensive. There was a woman who had short jackets made of the same iridescent Thai silk I've been buying (direct from Thailand) for $7 or less a 45"-wide yard. The jackets use no more than a yard and a half each (including the lining in a lighter silk), and are a simple design. Once you got going, and cut the patterns en masse, you could make them at the rate of one an hour. She wanted $275. Are you kidding me? Everything was like that. There's a jeweler who wraps stone in gold wire, and I look at his stuff every visit. The "Australian opal in matrix" pendants that I salivate over every visit have gone from $135 to $760. Sorry. There are things you want and things you need. $760 is way past want and the pendant is nowhere near need.

I didn't buy anything - not even food - this time. I took a bottle of water with me ($.88 at the deli Vs. $2.00 at the fair) and an egg salad sandwich.

I seem to be having trouble with my back. I had pain on the top back of my left hip when I got to the fairgrounds, and within the first hour of walking around, it had moved to a belt of crampy pain around my waist. To lighten my purse (for carrying the water) I had removed the cosmetic bag, which happened to also contain my aspirin, so I had nothing for the pain.

After almost three hours of looking at stuff, my right leg was dragging, and if I wasn't careful, I kept staggering to the left. The right leg wasn't lifting from the hip, and the left knee felt weak. At least twice when I staggered too far left I almost fell. I looked drunk. I couldn't seem to walk straight.

I keep saying I'm healthy. I have no conditions that require monitoring, treatment, or medication. My blood pressure is good, cholesterol total was a bit high, but the ratio of HLD to LLD was also extremely high, which is good (and I suspect that since I've improved my diet and lost weight the total is now lower), and so on.

But I have pain. A lot. Always. Everywhere. It's my spine. Old injuries. And a mild fibromyalgia (I have almost all the pressure points). Sometimes my legs don't work so well. I can walk and walk for miles and miles, even when they're acting badly. It's just that sometimes I fall down or to the side, because the knee or thigh muscles just quit suddenly, or I have difficulty standing up after sitting for a while. It's like sometimes my legs just aren't listening! They don't pay attention.

I know that I have to sit and stand straight, keep my weight well balanced. If I slump, it causes problems in my spine. Shifts the weight badly (my bust is heavy, I guess). I'm probably having more difficulty now than I've had in a while because I've been feeling pretty sad and miserable lately, and I've been slumping. At home I've been frumping around all folded up, shoulders rolled forward, spine curved forward, like I have a bellyache, or like I'm expecting a beating. I don't do it in public. In public I'm straight.

Maybe I should spend more time in public.

Piper knows how I've been feeling. He left on a ten-day vacation today with his lady Di, but he called while I was out to see how I was, and he left his cell number "in case I need him". ( His thinly-disguised excuse for the call was to verify that I had received the check I needed to pay the estimated taxes. The tax payment was due on the 15th. He knows durn well that if I hadn't received the check before then, I'd have been pounding on his door! ) It was very thoughtful of him. I appreciate his concern.

Friday, June 23, 2006

755 Site Statistics, Domain, Van, Rental Car

I've been having fun reading the information collected by SiteMeter for this journal. I've had a lot of visits from strange and far-away places, as a result of Google (and other search engine) hits.

The search arg that got a lot of hits the other day was "InfoStealer". Seems like for about two days, about the same time I discovered it on my system, a lot of people were looking for information on it, and dropping in on my post (#747, below). Significantly, those searches seem to have dropped off.

Now, today, I'm getting hits on "800-503-7001". Six already today. That post (#750, below) has been out there two days, and today people are looking for information on that phone number. How strange. I wish more of them would leave comments - "what kind of call did YOU get?" One guy says he gets calls from that number in response to business ads he places in magazines. But he didn't say what kind of calls. I guess they must be odd, if he's Googling the number....

Gee. Too bad my posts don't contain information of much use to anyone. It feels like back when I was working, when people would stick their heads in my door and ask a question. I always tried to find an answer. Now I feel like all these people are asking, and I'm letting them down.

In reference to that strange phone call, on the off chance that someone wants the "(Hidden)" name, Roman strongly recommended that I register the domain. So I went to this morning, and took care of it. There's now a dummy www.(Hidden).com "Under Construction" site out there, set up by NetworkSolutions, and full of drum-related advertising. Bleck! But I'm not ready to find a host yet, so I guess I'll have to put up with that. At least the name's mine now for the next three years.

Roman called as I was heading out the door to take the van in for service. We had a very nice conversation. He said he seemed to remember a recall for my van, similar to my "it just quit!" problem. Told me where to look it up online.

Mr. T., the first-choice mechanic, figured it was the same bad sensor (the notorious O2 sensor) as before, so he tested it immediately. He came out to the waiting area and said, "It's the mumble mumble sensor [I didn't catch the mumble, because I was too hung up on what he said next, but it wasn't O2]. The sensor appears to be ok, but it doesn't know where your engine is. [Huh?] Could be engine, could be wiring, could be computer. Leave it here. We'll look at it Monday. Go next door and rent a car."


Rent-a-Wreck is next door to Mr. T., but they didn't have anything available. So I called Enterprise, across the river. Things got interesting.

I asked for a compact or sub compact. They didn't have any available, but offered me a 4-door pickup truck, at $84.99 a day. Gak! I might be driving this thing a week or more!
"Um, do you have any mid-size cars available?"
"How much for a mid-size?"
"That's $15 less a day. I'll take the mid-size. Um, why didn't you offer me the mid-size first? Why the pickup?"
"Because the mid-size won't be available until 5 pm. The pickup's available now."
(It was then 3:15 pm. Since their man has to come and get me and take me there, I couldn't get there in less than 45 minutes anyway.)
"I'll wait."
Sheesh. For $15 a day, I can wait an hour and a half.

So I went to the diner next to Mr. T.'s and ate (yummy Greek spinach pie) and the Enterprise guy picked me up at 4:30. When we got to the Enterprise office, a sub-compact had just come in, and I got it for significantly less, minus a discount as a 'The Company' retiree. Whoop whoop!

Good things come to those who wait.

754 Bits - Phone call, Passivity, etc

Contributions, as to where the strange phone call may have come from. It could be a pre-paid calling card. It could be an international call. It could be through the internet. It could have been made by dialing *67 first, to block Caller-id. No way to tell. I am at an impasse.

Roman says it could not be "her", because he's sure she has never heard of [Deleted], and besides, even if she had, "she'd never consider doing something like that." (An implied criticism that I would. I certainly would NOT have called, but you bet your booty I'd have looked it up on the internet!)

He attributes it to niceness. I attributed it to passivity.

I've been reading up on PPS, and it may explain the passivity. The polio virus damages the dopamine-producing cells in the brain, and a shortage of dopamine contributes to pain due to mental fatigue, memory problems, and cognitive problems. Polio also damages the brain stem, or the recticular activity system (RAS), which is "responsible for keeping the brain awake." So. She's got a lot on her plate, and some things just aren't worth the effort. Trusting him made it easy to not pay attention. You don't expend energy where it's not necessary.

I'll kick him next time I see him for taking advantage of that.

I also read a bit on the psychology of the syndrome. Survivors have worked hard all their lives to overcome physical challenges, and they find it difficult to admit that they now have to "admit deficiencies", and change their lifestyles to accomodate the fatigue. They have to eat a lot of protein, and to keep the muscles from atrophying, they have to do exercises that deplete the limited store of energy they have every day, but if they don't do the exercises, the energy supply will grow progressively smaller.

If he lived with her, he'd probably nag her to do what she has to do. She probably doesn't want that just yet.

Thursday, June 22, 2006

753 The Van - Check Engine Again

Thursday, June 22, 2006

Y'all might remember when I had trouble with the check engine light. Second-choice garage decided it was the sensor, nothing wrong with the engine, and they replaced the sensor. Two months later the light went on again. First-choice garage decided it was the sensor, nothing wrong with the engine. Much fuss and furor over who was going to replace it, and for how much. Second-choice garage finally caved and replaced it for free. That was maybe two or three months ago.

Last night, on my way home from the talk with Roman, I stopped at the grocery store and ran into first-choice mechanic. He asked how the van was doing, and I said that the sensor got replaced free, and it's fine now.

Ten minutes later!!!!, as I made the turn into my street, the van quit. It just turned off. No steering power, no brakes, no dashboard lights, no air conditioning, nothing. The only sign of life was the headlights, and the "oil pressure" light. Little red oil can sitting there on the bad-news-panel.

I sat there for a minute, grateful that there had been no one behind me, and I was safely off the highway, and then I tried restarting it. It started ok, but the oil can stayed lit. I limped home, and decided to check the oil today, when it was light.

Naturally, I forgot. This evening I made a salad run to the deli around the corner. The oil can was not lit, so I had no reminder. Just before I turned into the deli, the van hesitated, sorta like that slight hesitation when an automatic transmission is shifting, y'know? It hesitated twice in rapid succession, and then ... and then ...

... the check engine light went on.

I may cry.

752 The Talk

Thursday, June 22, 2006

Roman and I met in the parking lot last evening, ate in the diner (which was too noisy for talking) and then he drove us to one of the river mansions, where we sat on a bench on the grounds and talked for several hours.

He was more open than he has ever been, and I understand a lot more now about him, her, their relationship, us. Not everything, but enough.

Until now, I was convinced that she did not love him, that she was stringing him along and using him. Because I do love him, I found that maddening. Like even if I didn't end up with him, he had to get away from her. That he could never be happy with her. She was tearing him up and wasting his time. I couldn't understand why he was so fascinated with her, and why, if he had such strong feelings for her, why was he messing with me.

I keep saying that all I want is for him to be happy, and it's true, even if no one believes it.

Now, I know what the situation is. I know what the connection is, and a little about why she is holding him off. I know that even if he isn't, and may never be, completely happy with her, he would be more unhappy without her, even if she is the one who breaks it off.

So, ok, I'll change what I want. All I want is for him to be less unhappy. I'll do whatever I can to help.

He says all she knows about me is that I exist, that I used to work with him. Nothing else. The woman has no curiosity. She didn't even ask how long it had been going on, or whether he'd slept with me. She asks no questions. I had thought it was because she didn't care, but now I think it's just her personality. He didn't use the word, but I believe she is extremely passive.

He did tell her that it wasn't a Boston RG he went to last month, that he went to Pennsylvania with me. She asked if the March RG was real, and he said yes, that one was real. But she didn't ask, and he didn't tell her, that he went with me.


He apparently likes passive. Where he and I have butted heads to the point of making him angry is that I am nowhere near passive. I want to understand everything, and I will do whatever I need to do to get the information I need. That frightens him in two ways - he's afraid of his own anger, and, not that he's trying to hide anything, but it bothers him that he can't predict me. I need him to be open, but he's simply not introspective enough to be comfortable with that. I want him to tell me what he feels, and half the time he doesn't know what he feels. Therefore, she, with her passive acceptance, is much more comfortable for him. Calming.

I see that. Her upbringing and mine were very different.
She had polio when she was three years old, and has been protected and coddled all her life. I escaped an extremely abusive family only to be used and abused by others.
She has faith that she will be safe. There's a wonderful calmness inside with that. I know the only way I can be safe is to be vigilant, to be aware of all threats and be armed against them.
She is used to being taken care of. I know that in the end, only I can take care of me.

And now she has a debilitating illness that is threatening her. Roman finally told me how she is affected. He does do a lot for her. She needs him. I don't.

He thinks that because of the personality conflicts, he and I would probably never last in a long-term intense relationship anyway. I think it could work if I didn't feel threatened, but as long as she's alive, I'd feel threatened. And whatever else, he'd always be on guard, afraid of my probing.

So, ok, I accept that. He isn't the first man I've loved that I ultimately realized I couldn't live with. It doesn't change the love, but it changes the expectations.

I think they will be alright. He has saddened and disappointed her, he says she's still angry, but I suspect she will forgive him. She let him stay over from Saturday night 'til Tuesday morning - so it can't be too bad. I doubt, from what I've heard of her personality, that she will "snipe" at him for long, if at all, so it will probably soon blow over.

We're going to try being friends. I don't know how that will work out.

Friends with occasional benefits.

I need once more, soon, just to erase the Glen as the last time. The Glen is too important to me, and I need to replace that memory with another.

He said maybe a lot more. (Damn his mixed messages!) I guess neither of us want to give it up entirely.

I said not again for a while. Maybe a long while.

I need to internalize my new knowledge, to be able to defend myself against mixed messages. Otherwise we'd just fall back into the old patterns.

He said yeah, can't have you hoping again.


751 A Thought on Dates....

In the US, the standard date format is (m)m/(d)d/(yy)yy, as in November 2, 2003 = 11/2/03 or 11/02/2003.

In other parts of the world, it might be (d)d/(m)m/(yy)yy, as in 02/11/03.

Neither has ever made much sense to me.

In many applications, it is customary to put the global set first, then the first subset, then the subset of that subset, and so on. Makes for easier sorting.

Note that the format for time is that way - hh:mm:ss
And ordinary numbers - Thousands hundreds tens ones

In my opinion, now that much of the world is computerized, everyone ought to be using yyyy/mm/dd, or even do away with the superfluous slashes altogether and just write yyyymmdd.

When I label set of files that I might eventually want to sort by date, like photographs or a series of text files, I use yymmdd in the file name. They sort nicely.

Wednesday, June 21, 2006

750 Mysteriouser and Mysteriouser

Wednesday, June 21, 2006

Brilliant flash this morning. I don't have Caller-id, but I do have *69! And that "Silk En Drum" call was the last incoming on the house phone. So I tried *69. The call came from 1-800-503-7001, at 2:53 pm on June 20.

The phone company message said that I could reach that number by dialing "1", so I did, and got the message that "this number cannot be reached by this method".

So I dialed it myself.

I got a fast-busy signal. I shrugged and pressed the "Busy Redial" button on my phone. Normally, what happens is that the phone will redial the number on speakerphone every few minutes, listen for a few seconds, and if it's still busy (5 beeps worth), will hang up and try again. This time, on the first try, it dialed, got the same beeps I had gotten, but it didn't drop. Instead, the phone added its own higher beep, and hung on until an operator message about "all circuits are busy" came on. It never dropped the connection to retry. I had to break the connection myself. This is strange. It's not what Busy Redial usually does.

Since sometimes you can't call an 800 number if it's local, and my cell phone thinks it lives in a different area code, so while the house phone was doing its thing, I tried the number on the cell phone. The result was even stranger. The cell attempted the connection for exactly 3 seconds of silence, then dropped the attempt. Several times. No indication of anything.

Next, I went to I typed in only the 800 part, and Reversephonedirectory suggested the 503-7001 itself! Huh? So I said ok, search, and I got a blank search results screen. Not even a "can't find it". Several other searches, like in the internet toll-free directory, and others suggested by got no hits.

Ok. Anybody out there recognise the number?

Anybody better at research than I?

Has my link list kicked off a secret gommunt investigation?

Should I get a big dog?

749 The "Edited" Call

Late Tuesday evening, June 20, 2006

(10/24/2015 - I have edited out the operative word here because I may have a nasty stalker who knows me only by that id.  I would prefer he does not find this blog by Googling my id.)

There are only a very few local people who know this journal exists, perhaps five. Of those, I'm certain that two have long forgotten about it, even before it moved from AOL to Blogger. Of the remaining three, one never reads it, one occasionally reads, and one reads often, and those three are trusted friends. So I can safely say that of all the local people who know me personally, almost no one knows about this blog.

"EditedOut" is slightly better known. It has a legal existence, it's my id on several obscure specialized services, including the local Mensa group, on a few online auction services, and other online milieus. My alter ego, so to speak. If you Google "EditedOut", you'll find this journal. But there's no particular reason for anyone to want to search for "EditedOut" in the first place. (10/24/2015 - unless I piss them off.) And you will not find my phone number connected with it anywhere, with the sole possible exception of eBay, and then only if you've sold me something sometime in the past. I haven't been active on eBay in over a year.

So, how did "EditedOut" (pronounced by the caller in three careful pieces, like Ed-dedi-tout) get connected to my phone number this afternoon?

The local friend who does read this journal says she's on the edge of her seat, and finds the phone call I mentioned ominous. Yeah. It's bothering me, too. Phone calls seem to figure heavily in the development of issues lately.

Ok, what are the possibilities?

I mentioned a legal factor. The records are public, and it's possible someone has an interest in acquiring the name to use for a business, and it's possible that my phone number is on the records (but I don't think so). But there are two problems with that. First, the woman pronounced it as if she had heard it, but had not seen it written. Second, I doubt that anyone who wanted to acquire the name would have taken so long to speak, then have asked if I was Ed-dedi-tout and then hung up as soon as I said yes.

Another possibility: an eBay seller I had done business with is checking her records for old customers. Again, there's the pronunciation problem, an email would be more productive, and - there's no reason for her to hang up abruptly.

Perhaps it's a friend who already has my number, found this journal by accident, put two and two together, and decided to ask. Again, why hang up? And why the artificially high voice and the fake-sounding accent? Shouldn't there be some gloating?

It could be some reader of this journal, a relative stranger with extraordinary research talents, who set out to find me. That's a possibility. It's happened before to other people. But I doubt it. I don't think I've interested or offended anyone enough to earn that much effort. But if it WAS one of you, 'fess up in a comment. And if any of you would like to take up the challenge, send me my phone number in a comment. I review all comments before they're posted, so I'll just not post that one. But I'll mention it!

Daughter and (if I know her taste at all) her friends are too mature for that kind of "fun".

The last possibility is the worrisome one. That "she" found my phone number in Roman's land line phone bill or on his cell phone, and that he had somehow sometime mentioned EditedOut, and she put two and two together, and called to confirm that they went together. I asked him, and he says he has never mentioned EditedOut. But there are several things he has said to me that he later doesn't remember saying, or actively denies saying. The fact that she could, from the phone number, find my real name and address doesn't bother me.

This is ridiculous. Unbelievable even. Unbelievable if it weren't for the fact that I had contemplated a similar call to her. One small question and hang up.

For the next few weeks, I'm taping calls.

Now if it was her, and if she has any brains or curiosity at all, she could easily find this journal.

There's nothing here that isn't truth (as far as I know it). I can hold my head up. What worries me is that:
  • maybe she will find it, and it will blow Roman out of the water completely if he hasn't come completely clean with her, and he'll never forgive me.
  • maybe she will find it, but never let on to him, and hold onto him, but harden her heart against him. For years and years and years.
  • maybe she won't find it. Yet. Swords hanging by threads. Please, get it over with already!
I wish I had caller id.

I don't care. Let the cards fall.... Whatever happens is meant to happen.

See me continuing to write here? I dare fate!

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

739 The Crisis - "Someone Should Tell Her"

Ok. This post is out of sequence for a reason. There's been something (not so very) mysterious going on. Here it is - the hitherto unpublished events of the past ten days. It's long. It's boring. It shouldn't even be here, but I'm angry and I don't care. Many of the thoughts and feelings have changed since they were written, but here's the full progression.

Written Thursday afternoon, June 15, 2006, about events the previous Saturday and Sunday:

The title of this journal is "I Don't Understand". Because mainly I don't.

Like, why are so many of my supposed friends so eager to tell me that Roman is involved with another woman? What I didn't know until last Saturday night is that so many of them had met her. Apparently, before he got involved with me, he had taken her to Mensa events [later edit - only two, both at NJ's], and everyone "knew" that he was living with her.

Saturday night, Moonlight Madness. A bunch of women in NJ's kitchen. All very eager to tell me all about her and all about him, that they have been living together for years, that they vacation in Arizona, that.... I listened until I got pissed because they had so much wrong, and then I corrected their misconceptions. No, he is NOT living with her. He has his own place, and goes over to her place on Friday nights through Monday morning. She won't let him move in with her. No, all his furniture is not in her house. She probably wouldn't ALLOW any of his stuff in her house. His furniture is at his place, and some is stored in her garage, the dining room set he's trying to sell. She has a daughter in Arizona. And yes, he lies to her because he knows he can get away with it, and she's either not swift enough or doesn't care enough to figure it out.

I told them a bit about what's true, and what's REALLY been going on. Maybe I shouldn't have, but I'm not sorry I did.

They were thoroughly shocked that I knew about her.

They were even more shocked, and upset, that she DIDN'T know about me.

The consensus was that he's pond scum, I'm a fool (which they kept telling me over and over), if there's me "there are probably others", after me "there will definitely be others", and most of all, repeated several times to general nods and acclaim, "Someone should tell her!"

Someone should tell her.

Of course, no one was willing to be the one to tell her.

They tried to convince me I should tell her. I said I couldn't, but if anyone else wanted to, be my guest. When they asked why I couldn't tell her, I said it was because I'd promised Roman I wouldn't. They asked what a promise to him was worth. "He's scum. He's not worth wasting a promise on."

They asked why, knowing what I know, why do I continue? I said because I fell in love with him. I appreciate all the good things about him, and understand the bad. And because he's absolutely terrific in bed. Best ever, and I've been around enough to know. (I've been around enough to know that it's not individual skill that pushes it into the spectacular zone - it's the combination. And together, we are terrific. We match perfectly in so many ways.) I can't give him up. I've tried, and I am trying, but when he smiles I want him. All of him. And they don't understand what's going on. He's really a nice guy, just very confused.

"He can be very charming."

"Yeah. But he's scum."

Now, here's what I don't understand, what's been tearing me up for the past four days:

Why is everyone so anxious to tell me? Is it because they do like me and want to "save" me, or because they don't like me and don't mind hurting me?

And why is their reaction "Someone should tell her!" (not just that night, but on two earlier occasions, too, different people), and yet no one will? Is it because they like her and don't want to hurt her, or that they don't want to get involved (then why are they so eager to tell me?), or that they don't like either of them and think they deserve each other?

She's using him the same as he uses me. She's playing him, like he plays me. She likes having a handyman and lover and social escort on the weekends. Single women don't get invited out much by couples, and she likes her social life. Her ex-husband has moved on, and she likely would be embarrassed to go to family functions alone. Her excuses for not allowing him into her life fully are exactly that - excuses! If she really loved him, she'd want him there with her. If she really loved him, she'd had offered back in December, when his housemate moved out and it looked like his rental house would be sold. And deep down, Roman knows all of that, and that's why he messed with me. But he stays with her because he keeps hoping she will love him. He told me once that he attempted to break up with me in January because I was forcing him to look at things he didn't want to see. Isn't denial a wonderful thing?

Sitting here thinking about it, I just realized something else the kitchen women probably misunderstood. I didn't know about her at first. He told me at first that he "had been seeing someone" for about two and a half years, but that "the relationship had changed, it wasn't good anymore". He asked me several times over the course of the next few months, "Please don't change." He allowed me to believe it was over with her until November, when I put two and two together and figured out that he was still seeing her. I tried to break up with him then, but couldn't. I tried again in January, and couldn't. In late February he asked me to "wait for him", he said that I might be "the woman I spend the rest of my life with". In March I complained that she gets 60 hours a week with him, and I'm lucky to get 12, and his response was "I'm working on that." Just lately he's been exploring Ulster job opportunities - which happen to be more convenient to my house.

So they may think she's the "Wronged Woman", and I'm the "Little Homewrecker", and that's why they're willing to hurt me but not her....?

On second thought, no. They were truly surprised that I knew about her. They really thought he was playing me. Ok, back to "don't understand" mode.

I know my feelings for him are (were?) pure and true. I suspect her feelings are not. I think I have been more wronged! By her, by her hanging on to him when she doesn't really want him. Just to have somebody when it's convenient. She is doing him wrong, and he's doing the same to me, and lying to her in the process.

I asked him once what she would do if she found out about me, and he said "Oh, she'd be mad, but she wouldn't throw me out." Cocky SOB, isn't he.... But then, I didn't throw him out either. He can be very charming.

So Sunday, I went to the computer show with Roman, and told him about the previous evening. I was very upset. I told him I felt like a fool, and that I was the laughingstock of Mensa. His response was that we need to quit. No more romance. He felt really bad that I was having such a hard time with other's perceptions, but his greatest fear seems to be that she will find out. The "Someone should tell her" scared him. And then he snuggled me during our goodbyes in the parking lot. Very loving. Very tight. Kisses. I tried to deflect him with my purse and parcels between us, but finally I set them down. Sigh. I get mixed signals from him. I know he has feelings for me. I know he loves me in a way, "but not enough, not the way you want me to". I know he wants to be able to love me, but there's something wrong, something in the way.

He almost never tells me he loves me. He says he doesn't want to mislead me. The previous Tuesday he had been here setting up the DVD player, and then Wednesday we had a long and very nice phone conversation, at the end of which he said "Love you." No qualifications included. He said it softly, he breathed it, like he hoped I didn't hear it. I didn't react, just passed it off, because I figured he was used to saying that to her at the end of phone calls, and I figured that he had just slipped, and that it wasn't really meant for me. So on Sunday, in the parking lot, after he had told me we were over, I told him that, that I had heard it but I didn't react because etc. He got a really funny look on his face, and said, "No, it was meant for you. I really did mean it for you." He didn't have to say that. Saying it only made things worse for him.

It only makes things worse.


Somebody should tell her? Who will? Will anyone?

You would have to put hot irons to my feet to get her name and phone number out of me, but, hey! My right foot is numb between the index and middle toes, remember?

Written later Thursday night, 6/15 -

I wrote the above this afternoon because I knew I'd be seeing him at the Third Thursday Mensa dinner tonight, and I wanted to get my head straight before I saw him. I didn't post it then because I wanted to see if anything had changed since Sunday.

It did.

I had called him on his (brand new) cell phone Monday night, about 10:30 pm. I "knew" two things - he was teaching a class that ended at 9:30 and would probably get home just before 10:30, and secondly that he didn't see her on Mondays (she doesn't allow weekday visits unless she needs him for something). I wanted to ask about his mother.

He answered the phone.

He was with the other woman. At her house, or in a car, I don't know.

She thought that she was the only person who had his cell number. Note that he had told me I could call him any time, even on weekends.

He did a whole bunch of things wrong - this is how I know he's not used to cheating. The poor man doesn't have a clue. I told him tonight that what you're SUPPOSED to do is a) when you're with her, put it on vibrate, or turn it off, and b) if you do screw up and answer, and it's me, say "He's not at this number, you have the wrong number", and then call me back as soon as you can. He said he thought it WAS on vibrate.

Instead, it rang, and he panicked. He said he couldn't hear me, bad connection (it wasn't), so naturally, what did I do? I yelled louder. Which ensured that she heard me. I told him to call me back "later, when you get home". I figured he was on the road, going home from class. Yeah, I said "love you" at the end.

She wanted to know who I was, and why I had his number and was calling so late, and I know him well enough to know exactly what happened. He got the thunder face and shut down, and refused to discuss it. He says she hasn't spoken to him since.

He looked really bad tonight. He is suffering. He doesn't know what to do. He told me it's over with us on Sunday, that he's choosing her, and the very next night ....

He said he was going to have to tell her about me, but he didn't know what to say, or how much. I told him that she probably suspected something was going on before this. And if there is any chance whatsoever that someone else told her or will tell her anything, he damn well better tell the truth. All of it. "You don't know how much she already knows."

I also overstepped again, and told him what I thought of her, that if she loved him, she'd ... blah blah. You don't refuse to speak to someone you love. You don't withhold yourself from someone you love. You want to be with someone you love, you don't push them away all the time. Blah blah. He knows. He said he knows. I know he knows it's all wrong with her, but there's something about her that fascinates him. He looked like he was about to cry when he said "But it was starting to change. It was starting to get better."

He's in even worse denial than I ever was.

The sad thing is that I just want him to be happy. If I thought he could be happy with her, if I thought she loved him, I'd have a lot less difficulty letting him go. But I can't stand the thought of giving him up to a woman who merely likes him, but doesn't fully appreciate him, and who is just keeping him on the string because she knows she can, and he's useful.

We hugged a lot in the parking lot. The last was so tight I thought he'd break me.

Written Friday evening, 6/16 -

He called to update me on his parent's status. He knows I'm concerned about them. We talked. The other woman has agreed to talk with him on Saturday evening. He will let me know how it goes.

I warned him not to lie, and not to allow her to believe untruths by not correcting wrong impressions. "Every time you allow her to believe something that's not true, you've planted a land mine." I reminded him that she seems to be in total control of their relationship, but HE should be in control of his life.

On the one hand, I want him to be happy. On the other hand, I hope she kicks him out. He keeps hoping that she will make him happy some day, but I don't believe he can be fully himself with her. I told him that one day, maybe in a few years, he will tell me what it is that he finds so fascinating about her. Right now, I don't understand anything.

Written Saturday, 6/17 -

Long talk with Piper. I wanted to talk with him because he is so perceptive, and he knows a lot of what's been going on, and he knows and likes Roman. I don't need advice - there's nothing I can do - but I just needed to talk with someone.

I told Piper the whole story, all of it. Everything that has happened in the past year.

Piper doesn't understand what's going on with Roman either. He says there's something missing in the guy. Something missing, that makes it difficult for him to decide what he wants. However, in contrast to everyone else who knows, Piper believes that Roman is doing the best he can, and that there is no intent to hurt anyone. He believes that Roman is honest, and does care for me, but - there's something missing, something wrong with him.

Or there's a missing part to the story. Something important that I don't know.

Piper also explained why the kitchen women were so eager to tell me what was going on, but not willing to tell her. Because they KNOW me, I am one of them. They may have met her, but they don't know her. So although they all say "someone should tell her", they don't really care whether she knows or not. That's all.

It can go any one of four ways tonight.

If she takes him back weekends-only, same conditions as before, the price will be that he can have no contact with me, and possibly with Mensa, and it could go on that way forever! He'll still be unhappy. I'll be sad. This is a very bad denouement, but unfortunately the most likely.

If she takes him back and lets him move in with her, well, I almost hope that's what happens, because either it will work and he will be happy, and I can live with that, or it won't work and after a time whatever hold she has on him will dissipate and he'll leave her and turn back to me. Either way is ok. I can handle that. Unless by the time he realizes he's unhappy, her condition (she has PPS) has deteriorated to the point where he can't leave her. This is very bad.

If she throws him out completely, maybe he will turn to me, but I don't know if I should accept him that way, because I'll forever be afraid that she'll crook her finger, and he'll go back to her. This is actually a likely scenario, and it scares me. Because if she does throw him out, and if he does then turn to me, I'll take him in. I'm that big a fool. The kitchen women were right.

The last possibility is that in their discussion tonight, he realizes that she doesn't love him, and he decides he can't live under her rules and conditions, and she doesn't need him as much he thought she did, and he gives her up. This is the least likely to happen, and probably just fanciful thinking on my part, but it is my only hope.

Oh, Piper did offer another hope. She has Post-Polio Syndrome, brace on one leg, fatigue, etc. Piper said that people with PPS don't live long once the later symptoms start to appear. I could just wait, you know.... I gave Piper the fish-eye - I don't want to hope for that, or even think about it. (Actually, that prognosis isn't strictly true. There's no way to predict the course of the illness. She works full time now, as far as I know, and she has a full and active social life, so she can't be too bad. But it's there, and there's no predicting what will happen. Besides, being "post-polio", and having been diagnosed with Post-Polio Syndrome at two very different things.)

I'm sure Roman is aware of it, too. Her future may not be bright. Maybe that's why he can't leave her, and why he's so afraid of hurting her. Maybe that's the fascination. He did say once that there was a moral and ethical reason for his staying with her that overrode his own happiness, although at that time he wouldn't go into what it was, and it was before I knew about the PPS. He really is very loyal. Under all this crap.

So, tonight, two people are talking about me, and in deciding their future, they are deciding mine.

Sunday evening, 6/18/06

I had dinner this evening with NJ. It was in her kitchen that I was attacked by all those women, and actually, it was NJ that started it. We sat on the patio of a restaurant around the corner from her house, and we talked for four hours. I told her everything. Of course, all she got was my side, and there's so much I don't know.

She didn't make me feel any better, but at least she now understands and sympathizes. She says that she told me about the other woman because she didn't like to see me hurt by Roman. She, and everyone else, thought he was just playing me. Now, after our talk, she thinks that Roman has been sincere, but that there is something more, some part we're missing, and that he's super confused and super messed up. And that there's absolutely nothing I can do about it.

I had assumed that the other woman had physical difficulties, but NJ says that the two times Roman had brought her to NJ's apartment (the second floor of a colonial-era house with high ceilings), she'd had no problem with the high steep stairs. That kind of hurt, because her physical dependency on him was one of the excuses I had assigned to him, to explain why he was having so much trouble deciding what to do. In my mind, I have given him so many excuses, and one by one they are falling away.

I had left my cell phone on, but got no calls. I got home about 11 pm, and there were no messages on the home phone. I am going crazy. I can't call him. I have to wait until he's ready to tell me what happened in their talk (and who knows what else) Saturday night, and until then I am sick to my stomach.
Monday night, 6/19

He said he'd talk with her on Saturday evening. I asked him to call me and tell me how it went as soon as he could. He said he may not have any privacy on Sunday, but he'd call Monday for sure.

He didn't call on Sunday. That could mean she has taken him back and she allowed him to stay with her on Sunday. Or not. I don't know. But he didn't call today, either, and that worries me. He worked today, so I know he had opportunity to call. So either she has made him promise no contact with me, or he's not ready to talk to me yet. He HAS to know what I'm feeling. Sometimes I could hate him.

Later Monday night, wee hours of Tuesday morning, 6/20

I broke down and called his home, no answers, finally left message(s). I know he's not there. I know he spent Saturday night, and Sunday day and night with her, and he's there tonight. That's why he hasn't called me. I also sent an "up" email about Firefox, and a "down" email telling him that I didn't want to talk to him on the phone, that I wanted him to find a time that we could get together to talk.

Early afternoon, Tuesday, 6/20

He called. I didn't answer the phone. It didn't sound like he'd gotten any of my messages. He left a message which included that "things were better after their talk Saturday night" (I guess she's at least speaking to him now), but that he still didn't know where it was going. And that he had a class tonight, so he couldn't call tonight (why not?) but that he would call "sometime".

Not fifteen minutes after he hung up, the phone rang again. This time I picked it up just before the tape did. I said Hello, but no one spoke. I could hear breathing. I said Hello? Hello? Is anyone there? And a high-pitched female voice with a sing-song accent said "Is this [Deleted business name]?" She spaced it out exactly like that. I said "Well, yes, I guess so. Why?" And she hung up.

Scared me witless.

So I called Roman's home. He'd just called me, so I thought that's where he'd be, but no answer, so I left a message - Does "she" have an accent, or a friend or coworker with an accent? - And did he ever mention [Deleted] in connection with me?

Then I called his cell, and got him. Same questions, No, and No. We didn't talk much - I didn't want to. I did ask if he was spending tonight with her, and he said no. Nor tomorrow night. I said "So, you're together under the same conditions as before?" and he said "No, not quite." We didn't go into detail. I didn't want to on the phone.

It sounds exactly like my worst prediction.

We are to meet tomorrow at five, in a diner parking lot in Hyde park.

748 Mozilla Firefox

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

After my last post, Herlock Sholmes suggested that I look into SiteAdvisor, so I did. SiteAdvisor requires Firefox. I've got Netscape.

I shrugged, and installed Firefox, and SiteAdvisor.

I am amazed at all that the combination offers, and it's faster than Netscape 7.2! Firefox also imported all my Netscape bookmarks and history, too, so I didn't lose anything. (I haven't checked stored passwords yet....)

I have only one complaint. Because I have such a slow dial-up connection, I'm in the habit of clicking on a link, and while that page is loading, I go back to the original site and continue reading, or to another. I multitask because there's always the next page slowly loading in the background. Also, if I link to a site that looks like it has heavy download time, like for video, fancy design, or sometimes music, I'll just close it before it drags down my whole system. There's nothing out there that's so very important.

Firefox won't let me do that. It often (but not always) insists on staying right on a page until it has finished loading. I can't get the "close" tag on the upper right "X" and can't close a page or move to somewhere else until Firefox thinks it's time. Which time seems a bit arbitrary.

But it's so much faster than Netscape that in this first blush of new love, I'll accept the quirks.

747 Spyware, Site Meter

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

[Later edit - info on site meter view times, at bottom.]

I got a bit of a shock. I was just about to shut down and go to bed, when a window popped up, from the AOL Spyware detection program, saying that it had found a Trojan horse on my system, something called "InfoStealer". Hmmmm. That might explain why the system has been so very slow lately. It takes forever to IPL now - like 20 minutes. I had assumed it was because my hard disk is a mess, and defragmenting no longer works.

AOL offered to "block" the spyware for me, with the warning that if it does so, some functions may no longer work. Ouch!

I Googled "InfoStealer", and there are apparently several versions. One arrives in Yahoo mail (I do have a Yahoo mail account"), and it hijacks your Yahoo account. Big deal. My account is free anyway, so I'm not sure how it hurts. Another version is nastier, I guess. It steals your passwords to sites like PayPal and banking sites. A third has something to do with a Seal online game.

My biggest problem is that all the information I was able to find to remove it assumes that you use Symantec for virus protection. I don't. I used to, but the last time I tried to download a new version, it broke in the middle of the download, and even though the subscription I had paid for said I could download again at any time, it wouldn't let me. So when AOL offered McAfee for free, I had changed over to that.

So I don't know how to remove it, and I'm not sure I trust AOL to do it.

I gave up. I told the AOL spyware detector to go ahead and "block" it. I'm still here, but if I disappear tomorrow, that's why.


Second topic, I added a site meter to this blog (you'll find the itty-bitty button at the very bottom). It's interesting where I get hits from. Besides those I know about, there was someone from Australia? Japan?? Romania??? Whoa! And I thought there only six people reading this thing. Well, maybe they're not reading it. Duration of visit is "0.00". "Suicide" is a popular search arg, and I think that's what's doing it.

[Later - I read the Help for SiteMeter, and "duration of visit 0:00" doesn't mean they visited only a few seconds. Since my last 40 or so posts are all on one page, a visitor is not likely to go to another page. SiteMeter counts the time only when a visitor goes to another page. To quote: "If they only look at a single page and then leave, we don't know how long they looked at the page. If they looked at two pages and left we would know they at least were on the site during the time of the first page view and the second page view. The difference between those two times would be the length of the visit." It's screwy. Meaningless to me.]

Monday, June 19, 2006

746 Walking the Rail Trail

We met in the trail parking lot at 6:30 pm. There was Tom, Michael?, Michelle, Angela, Deborah, and me. When I arrived, it was raining, and they were all standing there under umbrellas. We waited until 6:45 for Eve, who was supposed to come but never did, and then we set off down the trail - with umbrellas. Give us credit for determination, if not brains. (Michelle decided not to walk. Her allergies were acting up. She went home.)

Tom said that at three miles per hour we should be able to make it to "the gorge" and back before sunset. The gorge turned out to be a high bridge over a creek, with a wonderful view across farmland to the cliffs and stone tower at Mohonk, with the sun setting over the mountains.

I think we walked a little slower than 3 mph, because 3 mph is a fast walk for my short legs, and I didn't feel rushed at all. An advantage of rail trails is that they are wide and smooth, and you can easily avoid the poison ivy. Also, wild strawberries seem to be endemic to railroad beds. The disadvantage is that they are so straight. You can see the trail going on and on before you. I like a little more variety.

We saw lots of birds, geese and ducks, rabbits, groundhogs, fish in the creek, and a muskrat in a slough beside the trail.

Afterward, Michael? and Tom and I went to Bacchus for drinks (I had iced tea) and nibbles. We sat outside on the deck, and it rained again, but we had a huge table umbrella, and it was nice, watching the people on the street. New Paltz is getting to be a lot like Woodstock was 25 years ago.

I really like Tom. He's a nice guy. He and his girlfriend, AND his ex-wife(!), will be going to the world gathering in Orlando in August, and I am very happy about that. I won't be completely alone. There will be someone there I already know and like, that I can hang out with.

Driving home, again my mind was in overdrive, and again I missed my exit, had to go all the way up and then back down again.

When I got home about 10:30 pm, there was a message on my machine. It was from Daughter, which was nice. There was no message from the one I had hoped would call.

My stomach hurts again. But I used the word "nice" a lot up there. I'm trying.

745 Dinner with NJ

Monday, June 19, 2006

I didn't go to the Clearwater festival yesterday. I slept late, and then NJ called and we arranged to meet for dinner at 6 pm. I had called her last Friday and asked if we could get together some time soon. The festival was pretty far down the river, a long drive, getting back by 6 might be hard, and given my emotional state lately, I'd really rather talk with NJ.

We sat at a table on the patio, and ate, drank, and talked for four hours.

I nursed one Cosmopolitan for the whole four hours, with a full dinner, but when I pulled out of the parking lot, somehow I headed up the road on the wrong side. My mind was simply not working. The road has wide shoulders there, and somehow I decided the left shoulder was the left lane, and the center line was the line marking the right shoulder. A car came over the hill, and I whipped right and avoided a head-on collision by quite literally inches. I'm surprised I didn't roll the van.

This evening I'm going to walk the Wallkill Rail Trail with some Mensans. I don't particularly want to, but I committed to the organizer a few weeks ago. It may rain, and if it does, we'll just go hang out somewhere in New Paltz.

I'm kinda hoping it rains.

Sunday, June 18, 2006

744 Bad Bad Substitute Magazine

I have a subscription to Budget Living magazine. It's chock full of ideas for living your life and decorating your home without spending a lot of money.

Yesterday, I received in the mail a copy of House Beautiful magazine, with a letter attached that says that Budget Living has ceased publication, so "special arrangements have been made" to fill out the remainder of my subscription with House Beautiful.


Whatever possessed someone to deduce that a person who subscribes to a magazine that shows you how to beautify a $5 garage-sale table would therefore be interested in a magazine that presents 150 pages of thinly disguised ads for things like $2,250 "Moroccan inspired" 6x9 rugs? A package of 50 "calling cards" for $150? A magazine that salivates over interiors that "took 300 craftsmen 3 1/2 years to complete"?

What idiot was in charge of this arrangement?

Is it possible that Budget Living failed because they didn't understand their target audience?

743 Suicide

Saturday night, 6/17/06

I went to the dance show this evening, and it was very good. Afterward, I had a few drinks and nibbles at Bacchus, in New Paltz, with some folks - some of the dancers and their friends. (We decided we should sneak into a certain dancer's house and burn her skirt.)

Driving home up the Thruway I completely missed my exit - not easy because you go through woods and darkness, and when you come to the exit it's all lit up with businesses and all - but my mind was running in circles again and I didn't even know I'd missed it until I saw the signs for the next exit up.

There was a half-moon low in the sky, and it was red and orange. My mother used to call that "blood on the moon", and it was a bad omen. I did an entry on that a while back, about how in the Welsh mining villages, blood on the moon meant death, because it indicated dust in the air, and miners with black lung were more likely to die when there was blood on the moon. Anyway, It was directly ahead of me as I crossed the bridge, and I wondered who it was for.

Not for me, I hope.

When I got home, the bloody moon was directly visible looking out my front door.

Bad omen. Death.

There was no message on my phone. There was virtually no chance there would be, but I had hope. Dashed.

People say that when people commit suicide, they are being selfish, that they are thinking only of their own pain, and not of how they hurt the people they leave behind. Well, I've never agreed with that. Sometimes pain for those left behind is exactly what the suicide wants to accomplish!

Now, before anyone gets excited, I am extremely unlikely to commit suicide for any reason. In fact, at one of the lowest periods of my life, when I was in therapy, my psychiatrist actually laughed at me when I expressed suicidal thoughts. It's something I might think about, and toy with in an "I'll show you!" way, but not something I'd actually do. When I get depressed, it's not that bad. I usually pull myself out of it by getting mad. And then I get even. I'm quite seriously more likely to murder someone else than to murder myself. That is a possibility....

But it is therapeutic, for me, anyway, to think about suicide sometimes.

I thought about it last Monday. About how if I did off myself, everyone would know why, and who was responsible, and the accumulated guilt, anger, hate, and blame heaped from every direction would revenge me. Very bad vibes. Bad karma on you. "That'll teach you a lesson you'll never forget!" All in all, a very satisfying thought.

But of course it's all completely impossible. I couldn't figure out how to do it neatly. Seems like every way acceptable to me either isn't sure, or is very messy. And I wouldn't want it to be a long time before I'm found, so I'd have to arrange somehow to be found quickly, but that could be suspicious, or mis-timed, and lead to intervention. So the whole thing is impossible. Besides, I can't do it until my house is clean and neat, and my file cabinet makes sense. But if it were possible, wouldn't the aftermath be fun?

That was Monday. By today, I was into murder mode. I couldn't be implicated in any way in anyone's mind. I'd have to hire someone. That's not the hard part, oddly enough. I know people who know people. The hard part is that it would have to look like an accident, and I couldn't think of any plausible accidents that would be sure to get the proper result. Simple severe injury would be worse than nothing at all. Plus I'd have to arrange payment in an untraceable way, and I couldn't figure that out either.

So. It looks like I'm beginning to recover.

(Man - I hope this blog never ends up in court!)