#574 Repeat entry - A Memorial to Jay

Several journalers are repeating their favorite entries of months or years past, and since this is a new location, I have decided to repeat my two favorite entries from the old AOL journal. Both are from the period when I was trying to lift myself out of my depression, and let Jay go. This is the first, from October 27, 2004 (my 60th birthday):

#74 A Memorial to Jay

In a few days, it will be three years since Jay left. At his memorial service, the pastor said something about putting "memories in a crystal jar". I liked the thought, and decided to do exactly that. I have a crystal jar on the bookcase in the livingroom, and I have filled it with tiny slips of paper, like from a fortune cookie, each a memory of something special about Jay.

• The way he played video games with his tongue and whole body

• When something (a hammer, a pen) wasn’t where he expected to find it, he said "It escaped!", and seemed truly surprised

• He always tried to think honestly about his feelings, never hid anything from himself or me

• He never tried to talk me into skiing, never indicated in the least that he missed it

• Twinkling eyes

• He supported me against his father’s strong disapproval when I found the McDonald’s outside Versailles

• He couldn’t spell worth a damn

• He gave me the clouds and the moon

• "Carrot cake is a vegetable, right?"

• He loved Pleiades, volcanoes, and meteor showers

• In many ways, he was like my beloved mice - quiet, made nice warm nests, worked hard, personally very clean, and, like a mouse, he left the remnants of his tasks scattered behind him

• How huge he looked behind the windshields of his tiny cars - one wondered how he would ever unfold to get out

• The way he pronounced "oops"

• The mountain of his shoulders in bed, the angle of his hip

• When he stood at the bar of the Marlboro Inn in his three-piece dark suit, among the hunters and farmers - how tall he seemed, how impressively broad his shoulders

• After his diagnosis, he joked that he didn’t understand all the fuss - after all, his illness was just "all in his head"

• The way he could snatch flies right out of the air - and always released them outside

• He explained that there are things that are very clear and understandable, until you try to explain them - there are some things that just shouldn’t be looked at too carefully

• He was unaware of how big and powerful he was - he was timid about walking the streets of Binghamton after dark

• He never complained. Not once. No matter what

• His delicate tapering hands

• The way he gave off heat when he slept

• How playful he was

• The dangerous toiletries

• When he worked on something, he made a terrible mess of his environs, but the work itself was done neatly, delicately, and perfectly

• He acknowledged male hormonal urges and prohibitions - even better, he was able to describe male attitudes and thought patterns so that a female could actually understand and sympathize with them

• The way he couldn’t resist "improving" everything he bought

• How confident he was of his ability to understand/handle/fix anything

• Everybody says you have to work hard and constantly at a good marriage - it wasn’t work for him, he did what came naturally, and it was good

• The way his uni-eyebrow and beard were all one piece, and his nose hairs blended into his mustache

• The way his tongue helped him concentrate

• How sensitive he was to my moods, and always said and did exactly the right thing

• Joy in little things, like Ninja and Baby plowing a figure 8 in deep snow - "Just what I always wanted - a doggy choo-choo!"

• That silky spot behind and below his left ear

• How soft and liquid his eyes could get

• Lying on the ground looking at stars

• Pizza! Pizza, pizza, pizza!

• He was so clean about his body that it took me ten years to discover that he had a severe problem with seborrhea on his scalp, face, and ears.

• He remembered perfectly everything he heard or read

• Music confused him - too much information all at once

• Elfin hairs on the outer curve and lobes of his ears

• His absolute joy in yummies

• LOUD!!! sneezes

• He never got petulant when I consistently beat him at word games like Super Boggle, and he played happily because he knew I enjoyed them

• His delicate artist’s touch

• The wonderful lopsided smile when he saw me coming down the hall at the rehab center

• In the last months, when he was having hallucinations and delusions, he listened to me and believed me, even though everything he "saw" and felt told him differently

• Near the end, he said that one of the things he appreciated most about me was the way I so thoroughly understood him. He didn’t realize that was only because he opened himself so completely to me.

• Incredible force of will - he hung on until I told him it was time to go.

• The cloud formation a few days after he died - his face, with a winking moon eye

• The meteor shower a few days after he died - I got up at 5 am and went out to the deck only because I knew he would want me to, and I counted >50 in the first 2 minutes, then I stopped counting. Later, the newspaper and the astronomy club reported a peak of 30 per hour! I got a private show. I truly believe he arranged it for me.

Is it any wonder I'm still in love with him?

(October 27, 2004)

#573 Questions 9 thru 12

Well, I found out where all the single men "of a certain age" hang out at 5 pm on a Saturday. The IGA was chock full of them, most quite willing to help a little lady reach things on high shelves. One gentleman, after helping me with some fruit juice, kept turning up in subsequent aisles, catching my eye and smiling shyly. Sorry, fella. I'm off men for the moment.
-----------------------------------------

Continuing with questions from The Book of Questions, by Gregory Stock, Ph.D., Workman Publishing Company, Inc., $6.95. (If you like the idea, you should buy the book. Get yourself all the questions at once.)

9. Would you accept $1,000,000 to leave the country and never set foot in it again?
Bad question. If one already has $10,000,000, the question is moot. If one has $10, the answer is easy. We've already established that I'd leave for love with no money. So now we're establishing my dollar price, eh? Well, for one million, probably not. For two million, maybe. For three million, definitely, since then I would be able to buy or bring to me at any time anything or anyone I wanted to have or see.

If you were expelled from the country and had only limited financial resources, where would you try to rebuild your life?
Probably Canada or England, since at least I speak the language, and I'm too old to fight new battles in an entirely foreign culture.

10. Which sex do you think has it easier in our culture?
I don't think either sex has it easier. They both have it hard in different ways.

Have you ever wished you were of the opposite sex?
No. Never. I have often thought about what it would be like to be male, especially when I had just been put down or shoved aside, but the demands on men are too great. Not that the demands on females are less, if anything they're greater, but those demands are at least more in a direction I am willing to go.

11. You are given the power to kill people simply by thinking of their deaths and twice repeating the word "Goodbye". People would die a natural death and no one would suspect you. Are there any situations in which you would use this power?
I invoke the fifth on this one. Let's just say I would be very sorely tempted. Not in anger, but in one case in sympathy, and in another in frustration. Good girl, bad girl.

12. If you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the body or the mind of a 30-year-old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you want?
Easy. Body. Assuming of course that the brain is part of the body (and I rather suspect that this is not what the questioner intended, but it is how I choose to interpret it). The 30-year-old has everything working well, including the brain, but the mind is only half developed. My brain was in much better condition when I was thirty, but my mind is in much better condition now. So I'd choose the body (including brain) of a 30-year-old to keep, and the mind of the 90-year old, with all the accrued wisdom. In fact, I wish I had had that when I was 30. However, this could be a curse. One would never be ready to die. (Which is where question #11 would come in handy.)

#572 Endowment

A friend is redoing her will, and a few months ago she had asked me to recommend some of my favorite charities.

I just got a note from her. She is setting up an endowment in my name for Heifer International (http://www.heifer.org/), because she is grateful for some assistance I had given her when she needed it.

Isn't that cool?

It's set to reinvest, and the charity gets the profits from it.

#571 Catchup

Friday, February 17, 2006

The wind has ended, and I think I actually still have most of my trees. None down in the yard or the driveway, anyway, although there are a few more suspiciously clear areas in the woods.

Backing up to Tuesday, I had dinner with the Kingston guy. He showed up with yellow roses. I think he's probably very nice, but at the moment he has a minor and temporary, but very painful, medical condition, which leaves him distracted and uncomfortable. Plus, I think I (and Mensa) intimidated him a bit. He's probably used to more sophisticated less bouncy women. I'm used to men who smile and laugh more. Maybe when his problem resolves, he'll smile more, and my bouncing won't trouble him, but, at any rate, if I ever see him again (and I do think I'd sorta like to get to know him when he's more himself), it won't be for a while. He has decided to withdraw from social contact until he feels better. I sent him a rather raunchy get well card. Probable end of story. Tsk. A pity. Other than the dour thing, he was promising.

Wednesday I had dinner with Roman, and then class. I'm confused. He's confused. Neither of us is sleeping well. Same old story. So what else is new. I do miss him terribly. I don't know how I'll manage after this class ends, next Wednesday.

Thursday I woke with twisty tender pain in my left side, just under and in front of the lowest ribs, which progressed to occasional waves of abdominal cramps. I had other pain too, but I don't know if it was related, or just the normally ignored pain that I suddenly became more aware of, but I had a hot spot in my right palm, a crampy muscle in my neck, pain in the right temple that shot thunderbolts down my jaw, left hip ache, and left foot pain. (You know, sitting here now, I just sampled my body, and yeah, all those other pains are there, just at a lower level. Isn't that strange....)

At first I couldn't take a deep breath, so I thought maybe it was a cramp in my diaphragm, but then decided it was too low for that. Kidney infection? Nope, too far forward. Twisted intestine? Possible, but that usually happens on the right side, not the left, and lower. Then I discovered it didn't hurt at all if I lay on my right side, so I concluded that it probably isn't an internal organ. Conclusion: muscle, probably pinching a nerve which causes the intestinal cramps. Probably a result of falling asleep at 4 am with my face in a book again (for the fourth night in a row). So I spent the day alternating between bed and bath. Soaking in very warm water made it possible to move and breathe for a while before it clenched again.

I had to cancel out on lunch with Piper, the Third Thursday Mensa dinner (and wouldn't you know - Roman was working, so he had given me the coupons to take), and NTN (trivia) after. Sadness. I enjoy all three.

Today my side is a little tender, but everything else has settled down.

Saddest part of all this? I hear it was 61 degrees yesterday! I didn't get to feel it.

#570 Wind!

Friday, February 17, 2006

It's very windy today and the power is flickering, so I'm going to turn this thing off in a minute. After yesterday's entry I figured I should let y'all know I'm better than yesterday. Still some minor muscle pain, but no more abdominal cramping.

#569

No entry today - pain. Maybe pulled muscle, maybe pinched spine. Can't stand or sit comfortably.

#568 Question 6 Revisited

I've been thinking about question #6, previous entry, the one about toddlers switched at birth. The more I think about it, the more I don't like the idea of swapping babies back. If you could do it in the first few weeks, it may be possible to do it without harm, or even after the children have reached "the age of reason" when they would be able to understand what had happened. But at one year, there's a big problem.

At that age, the child doesn't think in language. But they still think, feel, and remember, and the memories are stored as pictures and feeling only, as interpreted as the child. I'm afraid that a swap at that age will be stored forever as "my parents traded me for another kid they liked better." We'll have two children feeling that, and since it's stored as feelings without words or understanding, it will be very difficult to eradicate, even after the children know and understand the story. We could end up with some really messed up kids.

That leaves option a) kidnapping.

Or combining the two families - buy a duplex and pretty much live together. Ack!

Time to get ready for class, and I still have to return Piper's Monday phone call. I'll post again later tonight, because I want to talk about yesterday. Man, "I don't understand" is a very good name for this journal - there's so much I don't understand.

#567 Questions 5 thru 8

Continuing with questions from The Book of Questions, by Gregory Stock, Ph.D., Workman Publishing Company, Inc., $6.95, questions you can use to explore your own feelings and attitudes, or to spark a discussion with others. I've decided I'm going to go through the book periodically, and answer the questions here. I invite readers to comment, not so much on my responses, but with your responses - and simple yes or no won't do. Elaborate. (I'm hoping I can get around the copyright restrictions by recommending that, if you like the idea too, you should buy the book. Get yourself all the questions at once.)

5. If a new medicine were developed that would cure arthritis but cause a fatal reaction in 1 percent of those who took it, would you want it released to the public?
Absolutely! No question in my mind. Advanced arthritis is incredibly painful, and I firmly believe that it should be up to the individual as to whether they want to take the risk or not. I feel that way about just about everything like this. I don't like others making decisions for me or for any other competent adult. Given our litigious society, there would have to be all kinds of safeguards in place to protect the manufacturers, and that may be impossible, but I still think any risk is up to the person choosing that risk.

6. You discover your wonderful one-year-old child is, because of a mix-up at the hospital, not yours. Would you want to exchange the child to try to correct the mistake?
Hell, no. What I'd WANT to do is put out a contract on the other parents, then after they're dead, prove through DNA that I should be awarded custody of "their" child. Sheesh! I couldn't possibly leave my own child with strangers (unless they're absolutely wonderful and I'm in jail), so the only other options would be to a) kidnap the kid and abscond to some country without extradition with BOTH children, or b) exchange the children and then hope that the other parents would keep in touch, maybe with a visitation agreement, or something. But that's not what I'd WANT!

7. Do you think the world will be a better or a worse place 100 years from now?
Define "better". Is the world a better place now than it was 100 years ago? It's just different. Better or worse depends on your expectations at the time you live. We are human. We'll never create a Utopia. So 100 years from now, it will be different, but on the whole probably no better or worse than it ever was. We'll just move away from the current problems and find different ones - probably involving overpopulation.

8. Would you rather be a member of a world championship sports team or be the champion of an individual sport?
Individual. If I were a member of a team, I'd always feel that my contributions were small, no matter how much I actually influenced the outcome. I'd be happier as a winning individual, because no one, not even I, could negate my accomplishment. I'd be walking around saying "Wow, I did good! I really did!"
Which sport would you choose?
Swimming or diving. That will surprise a lot of people because I don't like water more than four feet deep. But my mother was a swimmer and exhibition diver, and I'd feel like it was a tribute to her.

#566 "Personality Test"

Your Five Factor Personality Profile

Extroversion: You have low extroversion. You are quiet and reserved in most social situations. A low key, laid back lifestyle is important to you. You tend to bond slowly, over time, with one or two people. Conscientiousness: You have medium conscientiousness. You're generally good at balancing work and play. When you need to buckle down, you can usually get tasks done. But you've been known to goof off when you know you can get away with it. Agreeableness: You have high agreeableness. You are easy to get along with, and you value harmony highly. Helpful and generous, you are willing to compromise with almost anyone. You give people the benefit of the doubt and don't mind giving someone a second chance. Neuroticism: You have low neuroticism. You are very emotionally stable and mentally together. Only the greatest setbacks upset you, and you bounce back quickly. Overall, you are typically calm and relaxed - making others feel secure. Openness to experience: Your openness to new experiences is high. In life, you tend to be an early adopter of all new things and ideas. You'll try almost anything interesting, and you're constantly pushing your own limits. A great connoisseir of art and beauty, you can find the positive side of almost anything.

The Five Factor Personality Test

#565 Questions 1 thru 4

Last time I visited Daughter, she gave me a book, The Book of Questions, by Gregory Stock, Ph.D., Workman Publishing Company, Inc., $6.95, saying that it was not something they were into, but that I might like it. I do! It's full of questions you can use to explore your own feelings and attitudes, or to spark a discussion with others. I've decided I'm going to go through the book periodically, and answer the questions here. I invite readers to comment, not so much on my responses, but with your responses - and simple yes or no won't do. Elaborate. (I'm hoping I can get around the copyright restrictions by recommending that, if you like the idea too, you should buy the book. Get yourself all the questions at once.)

1. For a person you loved deeply, would you be willing to move to a distant country knowing there would be little chance of seeing your friends or family again?
Yes. No hesitation. Maybe a few decades ago this would have been a more difficult question, but with international post, telephones, radiophones, and the internet I could still keep some contact. There are internet cafes even in Ulan Bator, for Pete's sake! Seeing and touching them is not as important as knowing that they are ok, and that they have love of their own. If they're not ok, note that the question says "little chance", not "no chance". I'm sure I would have periods of sadness and longing, but for love I would do it.

2. Do you believe in ghosts or evil spirits? Would you be willing to spend a night alone in a remote house that is supposedly haunted?
This is two questions. I do believe in a persistence of energy, but not necessarily the way that most people think when they hear "ghost" or "evil spirit". My belief is quite different. Incidentally, I DID see what I believe to be a conventional ghost once, in Wales, and I don't know how to fit that into my belief system! As to the haunted house, I would have no problem with spending a night there. Even if there are ghosts, and even if the house is haunted, I still believe that they cannot harm me except through fear, and therefore there's nothing to be afraid of.

3. If you were to die this evening with no opportunity to communicate with anyone, what would you most regret not having told someone? Why haven't you told them yet?
I learned a long time ago to tell everyone everything I wanted them to hear, at every opportunity. I can't think of anyone I love who doesn't know I love them, anyone I like or appreciate who doesn't know I like them, and exactly how much. If they don't know, it's because they weren't listening.

So it comes down to mundane stuff, like that I have some rare and valuable things scattered around here that Daughter may not recognize as such, and just throw out or give away with the rest of the trash. I doubt that she'd care, but I'd feel bad that the age and history and rarity of the item was not respected. That would be a pity. A loss to the world. Maybe I should stick little red tags on them or something.... Why not yet? Lazy. And I'm not planning to die for a while.

4. If you could spend one year in perfect happiness but afterward would remember nothing of the experience would you do so? If not, why not?
I can't think of a single reason not to say yes. Maybe it would mean giving up all memory of a year of my life, that isn't clear, but, gee, I wouldn't miss it, right? I know I had at least two years of almost perfect happiness with Jay, between the year of unemployment and the diagnosis, and now, ten years later, all I have left is the knowledge that they happened. I don't retain the actual feeling of that time. Not being able to recapture that feeling is certainly no reason not to have had the experience.

Some of these questions have a follow-up question in the back of the book, and this is one of them. The follow-up is: Which is more important: actual experiences or the memories that remain when the experiences are over? I'm not sure. But I have such a terrible memory anyway. Everything tends to get colored by subsequent experiences. Then again, looking at it logically, you wouldn't have the memories without having had the experience, therefore the experience must be more important, even if sometimes you don't retain the memory. Chicken/egg thing.

These early questions seem fairly easy. I've been flipping through the book, and some of the later ones get harder. I'm going to do them in order anyway.

Of course, I reserve the right to change my answers at any time.

#564 Relationship "How To"

There's some guy who is making a mint teaching the military and various groups how to build a relationship, how to find the right person. I checked out his program, and phooey! it looks exactly like what we girls all knew back in the 60s. He has just expanded it into a "book length" course with a lot of acronyms. (Like anyone would actually remember the acronyms or apply them in actual situations.)

Basically, what we all knew way back then was that the phases must go in the following order, no skipping. You must completely explore one phase before you can consider yourself fully into the next, because each phase is built on the previous.

1. Friendship. Get to know each other. Learn about his family, background, values, interests, goals. Find out how he reacts in different situations. Discover common interests and dreams. Find out what you share. Give this phase enough time to get past the posing and into the real person. Mystery is bad. Do you have real fun together, even when you aren't doing fun things? Do you admire each other's strengths? Can you accept each other's weaknesses?
   
2. Trust. You need to have trust and faith in him. Does he always do what he says he will do, is he honest, open, and forthright, do you sense there's something hidden, is the friendship on an even keel or does he seem to swing back and forth? Does he seem to have his, or your, best interests in mind? Can you always believe him when he speaks?
   
3. Emotional intimacy. Do you feel that you can say anything to him, and he will understand? Is he able to say anything to you without you getting upset? Does he let you into his deepest feelings? Do you understand how each other's minds work? Can you predict reactions? When you feel especially good or especially bad about something, is he the first person you think of to share it with?
4. Commitment. If you've both done a good job on #2 and #3, this follows almost naturally. This is not necessarily a formal declaration, but that you both feel that the other is "the one", and that neither of you will put the relationship in jeopardy.
   
5. Physical intimacy.

Nowadays, folks want to reverse steps 4 and 5. I guess it would work for younger people, but I'm afraid I'm stuck in MY youth. I'm glad I was reminded of this.

Jay and I were forced by circumstance into following the steps over a very long period. I suppose that's why it was so perfect between us.

And I know now what went wrong with Roman - I skimped on the steps. Knowing the process is one thing. Following it is another. I thought we were bumping along just fine, but that was denial. I'm afraid that we may never recover #2, and I'm not sure he is capable of #3. Not now, anyway, he may be too old to learn new tricks, and mental and emotional intimacy is something I absolutely need. It's not one of those weaknesses I can accept. Despite evidence to the contrary, I do believe he is capable of commitment. Too bad #5 was so darn good. It threw a blanket over everything else that was wrong.

I wish my printer was working. I'd print this thing out and nail it to the inside of the front door.

#563 Date

Well, I had my first online match date today. (Well, actually it's the second, but the first doesn't count - that was a guy from Connecticut whom I had earlier turned down, but we continued to "talk" for a few weeks, and I met him for dinner one evening in Fishkill as he was passing through, nothing there. Nothing to report.)

This guy was nice, and much better looking than his photos on the site, which was a pleasant discovery. We had coffee/tea and cheesecake at Barnes & Noble, and then, even though all the rules say never to go anywhere in his car, we went to Woodstock, to Cooper Lake, one of his favorite spots. I felt perfectly safe because he checks out thoroughly in the internet, has a lot of relatives and friends and contacts in town, and a reputation of his own to protect.

Plus Daughter had all the info if I went missing.

Naturally, I did something even more stupid - I left my gloves in his car.

His emailed response when he found them was amusement. I hope he believes I'm much too honest and naive to be so devious. I really didn't do that on purpose! It's very embarrassing.

So, we'll see what happens next.

It hasn't started snowing yet. I moved the van down to the bottom of the driveway, and verified that I have gas for the snowthrower, so I'm ready. 'Cept I don't have my favorite gloves....

#562 Trivia

Snow is coming, probably Saturday night, somewhere between 7 and 12 inches, depending on whom you believe. Which really means we'll get either none or more than 18 inches.
[Later update - Channel 6 says the storm will be passing off the coast, and it probably won't affect us at all. Channel 10 says 6 inches. Channel 13 says 4 to 8+ inches, maybe. Channel 23 says 12 inches or more.]

It's cold outside now (23 degrees). Even though the air is still and the thermostat says it's 74 in the house (it lies!!!!) my nose, shins, and hands are cold. Times like this is when I want to go to bed in the middle of the day. I hate cold.

Something I noticed - since I've lost a little weight, I feel the cold more.

Of all the Mensans who were so interested in Trivia last night, Tom and I were the only ones who showed up. We were joined a little later by two nonmember friends of Tom. We played under separate ids, but collaborated on the questions. Out of a few thousand players nationally, I came in individually at something like 125th, and we managed to bring our bar total in at 24th (and there were only the four of us playing! That's pretty good). Tom regularly scores in the top 10 or so individually. I still need to improve my time. When I'd be the first to say the correct answer, and the guys and I would all hit the buttons as soon as I said it, over and over they got the full 1000 points, and I got 875 (the points drop as time passes), even when I said the correct answer when the question first came up, before we were offered the multiple choices. I'm slow finding the right number to go with the answer, and then I'm slow on the button. And I was using BOTH HANDS!

I ate too much. I got the pulled pork quesedia, and Tom ate 1/4 of it, and it was so good I got another (of which Tom ate another quarter). Then Tom got a chicken platter and I ate half his baked potato. Then the other guys got a sampler platter, and I ate some wings, and sausage, and onion rings, and cheese sticks. Not to mention the wine.

I was afraid to step on the scale this morning.

#561 The Patent Is in Approval!

Thursday, 02/09/06

I missed yesterday's entry because I spent most of the day on the internet. When I opened my email in the morning, I found a note from Jay's old manager, CB, saying that the patent had been approved! This is so exciting. It's for a database management process that Jay had conceived, designed, and was lead programmer on. The Company first submitted the patent application in early 2001. (Naturally, the names on the patent include Jay and the other programmers and their managers, listed alphabetically, but it's really HIS.)

Jay and I had spent many afternoons in the courtyard of the Staten Island rehab facility while he was undergoing immunotherapy, with me reading page after page of the application and description to him. I took notes on his comments and corrections, and typed them up and sent them to CB after I got home every night. By then Jay was hemi-paralyzed and blind, and 1/3 of his brain was nonfunctional, but his comments were all still right on the mark. He didn't miss anything. It was good for him to feel useful, too.

So after five years, one "non-final" rejection and two "final" rejections followed by appeals, it has finally been approved. CB did a heroic job countering the rejections.

The patent office information is at this link, if you care to torture yourself.

Jay did have some prior patents and disclosures, but I don't know how many. And no, there probably won't be any monetary award for it, although I really think there should be. He worked on that concept through two years of surgeries, radiation, and intense chemotherapies. And even after he went on disability, his coworkers were telephoning for guidance.

So there were notes to send people, notes of congratulation coming in, and of course I had to read the whole online description again. I also sent notes to Jay's sisters, but I haven't heard anything back from them.

In the evening there was dinner and class. I skipped the exercise machines yesterday, but I do intend to go today. Incidentally, I tried on the bathing suit I had bought on August's cruise, and it's now a good three inches too large in the waist. If I tried to wear it in the water, the bottom would fall off.

The dating site contact in Kingston is looking promising. We've been emailing back and forth since Monday, long conversational emails, and he's going to call tomorrow, and we'll likely meet Saturday, noonish. He "sounds" nice.

I'm going to Pok tonight to play that national trivia game with some other Mensans. Wish me fast fingers on the buttons.

#560

Tuesday, 02/07/06

Last night, QuickBooks class, dinner before with Roman. You know, I think this new relationship could work. On this level, we are both much more relaxed with each other.

I had tea this morning with the neighbor from an earlier entry, Annalisa. She is unhappy because they will be moving again. Her daughter wants to go to college in the city (or Europe), so they will be moving to stay near her. Wow.

Then I went to the deli, then the bank to deposit the Exxon stock sale checks, then to Piper's office to deliver a personal check for the same amount, where I also got a major one-hour lesson in how bonds work (I think I finally understand), then to the exercise machines, then the CVS, then to pick up the van and return the rental, then .... somewhere, for something.... Whatever. By 3 pm I was wiped out.

I got a wink on the dating site from a retired corporate lawyer, who lives "within 15 miles"! We've exchanged some emails. Looks promising so far. He seems open, has moved here from California because he was born and raised here, and his elderly parents live here. If there's any potential problem it might be that he's BIG into playing tennis. Um, what's tennis? So, we'll see.

#559 Van Has a Headache

Monday, 02/06/06

I got a call from the folks who have my van. There are a series of sensors on the van that tell the computer if something isn't working right, and if one of them senses a problem, the "get service soon" light goes on. The guy told me Saturday that it's almost always a problem with the sensor itself, not what it's sensing.

So yup, it's the blah-blah-blah something-or-other oxygen sensor on the van that's bad, and they're going to replace it, for a hair over $200. The oxygen, by the way, is just fine.

That's why people drive around all the time with that light on, because it's usually the sensor that's bad. However, if the light is on at inspection, it's an automatic "fail" in New York State, regardless of why it's on.

There's something very silly about the whole thing. You go getting fancy, you raise the risk of bugs. More not-very-important things to expensively break, and for NYS to insist that you expensively fix, regardless of what's actually wrong.

#558 Blah Today

I got up early enough this morning to make it to the dance class and drumming, but ... I feel awful, so I didn't go. Bubble bath instead. My lower back, upper back, and legs ache, and my chest feels like it's stuffed with cotton. I suspect I'm fighting off a virus or something. No head involvement, though, so it's NOT a hangover!

Of the people from my high school class that I was looking for several posts back, I have found Joe, Gene, Helen, and Deloris. And I also re-found a neighbor from Washington, Carolyn. Making progress. But now I have increased my correspondence responsibilities.

Another quick tip from Roman: I fill out a lot of online forms, and almost all of them have one of those drop-down lists when it comes to the state (and sometimes country). I hate them, because New York is so far down in the list, and it won't allow you to just type in "NY". It turns out all you have to do is type the first letter of what you want, and each time you type that letter, the system will cycle through all the words in the list starting with that letter. So, given a list of states, if you want NY, type "n" and it will give you NE (and that's the point at which in the past I said a bad word and quit) but then you just keep hitting "n" and it will cycle through until it gets to NY. It works for all drop-down lists, even when they're not in alphabetical order. Very nifty.

I didn't know that. I wonder how Roman finds out this stuff.

#557 Bits & Pieces

Saturday, 02/04/06

NO NEWS! NEWS GO AWAY!! Well, the Muhammad cartoons thing has managed to leak through my barriers and into my head, and I really really really don't want to know about it. Everybody, absolutely everybody, on both sides of the issue, right from the start, has handled it in the most incredibly stupid way imaginable. What are people thinking? DO they think? How would Muhammad handle this? (Actually, that may be the wrong question to ask - I understand he was a rather ferocious man, in a ferocious time and place.) Whatever. Just make it go away, please?
_____________________________

I went to the Twisted Tassels performance this evening, and it was over at a little after 7. I did get up and dance a teeny bit at the end. I was stiff. I guess working on the machines is stiffening me up, so maybe I should fit in a dance class occasionally. Perizad teaches in Woodstock on Sundays, early afternoon, and it just so happens that the drumming group also meets in Woodstock, right after Perizad's class ends, so maybe I'll try both. If I get up in time tomorrow.

The drumming group looks like they have a lot of fun. I'm not sure whether it is all female, or if it just turned out that way tonight, there were like 15 women on the stage drumming up a storm. I asked one of the women (she looked very male, I had to wonder) when and where they met, and if there were lessons or was one supposed to already know something, and she said just come, you pick it up from others, no big deal.

Seven thirty seemed so early to go home. I got out on route 28, and saw a BBQ place ahead with a bar, and a sign that they had a bluegrass/folk band tonight, and I had heard that the bar at this place drew an older crowd, so on impulse I pulled in. It happened to be THE place where Roman held me and really kissed me for the first time, in the parking lot after a Mensa dinner. I thought maybe if I avoided the dining room and stayed in the bar I'd be ok, but I wasn't really. Damn BBQ smell. He may have ruined my favorite food forever.

So anyway, for the first time in decades I walked into a bar alone and plunked my behind on a stool, and ordered --- "do you have anything only slightly alcoholic?" --- a very fruity drink with that coconut rum in it. Older crowd? Mostly it was me and the bartender, a 25-year-old cutey. We chatted off and on for two hours until the band arrived. They set up in the dining room, but there were open double doors between, and I sat at the end of the bar right in front of them, a good seat, actually.

There was a guitar, a bass guitar (whatever that's called), and drums, and the guitar player and a woman sang. I don't know how to classify what they did. It wasn't bluegrass, and it wasn't folk, and it wasn't country, it was all original, and, well, sort of blah. (Nothing like the 10-piece jumpin' Cajun band of the night before. I may have been a little spoiled.) So I left a little after 10.

And here I am. Sigh.

#556 Sick Van

Saturday, 02/04/06

I spent most of today trying to get the van fixed. My favorite service place wasn't open today, so I tried a couple of other places, and then the dealership, and nobody's service section was open. I talked to a salesman at the dealership, asked what the "get service soon" light REALLY means, and he said I could drive locally for a few days with no worries, no problem, and I was starting to feel better about it, and then he said, "But if it starts to choke, or act funny at all, stop immediately and call someone to come pick you up. Even if you have to leave it on the side of the road."

Well, I don't want to be driving through the woods coming back from Woodstock at midnight, and have it "act funny". Who on earth would I call to come get me? And it's too cold to just sleep in the back until morning.

The dealer wasn't sure their service folks could get to it on Monday, so then I went to Majestic. Their service wasn't open either, but I knew they also have a Rent-A-Wreck desk. The guy at the desk assured me they could take a look at the van on Monday, I could just leave it in their lot for now, and I'd get a discount on the rental car.

So now I'm driving a swoopy little red sporty car with a long front and practically no rear, with a spoiler on the back. (I didn't notice what make it is exactly.) The guy told me not to take it over 100 mph. I think that would be easy. The speed limit through the village is 30, and I found I was doing 50 without even noticing. It tends to creep up all by itself, and it's so smooth and so light I don't notice.

To Woodstock for the Twisted Tassels performance tonight. I'm off to get cleaned up....

#555 Cajun Dancing

Well, I can now do a Cajun waltz, and the Two-step. They're actually pretty easy. The waltz is a simple one-two-three-one-two-three practically walking around in a counterclockwise circle, with a turn in each corner of the room. The Two-step was taught as one-two-three-pause one-two-three-pause, but in actual practice it's more like one-two-three-hitch-one-two-three-hitch, same turns in the corners.

They do this every first Friday of the month, and it seemed like everybody there already knew each other. Being shy, I didn't get much practice, just watched from the balcony, but maybe if I go a few more times I'll get more at ease, and become more familiar to them, too.

When I left the club and started the van, there was a strange light on the strip above the dashboard. I'd never seen it before. It's shaped sort of like a motor. Uh-oh. Owner's manual says something about getting service VERY SOON, that there's something wrong with the emissions system or some other thingy. Or else maybe the gas cap isn't on tight. I checked the gas cap, and in fact it wasn't tight, but tightening it didn't make the light go away. Fooey. I hate unusual lights on the dash. Especially at the start of a weekend.

I just got another note tonight from another admirer on the major dating site - this one's 50, 6'2", doctorate and post-doctoral, and also north of Schenectady. From his photos he's a very large man, heavy as well as tall, impressive in a dark suit. Otherwise not bad looking, and articulate, but ... so far away? So big? I don't know what to say to him, either. This is getting very frustrating. Maybe Fate is trying to tell me something.

Time for bed.

#554 Still No Dates

Friday, 02/03/06

Online dating update - my profile has been viewed on the major site by over 150 people now. No way to tell on the minor site.

Yesterday I got a note on the minor site from a 50-year-old very handsome man in New Haven. His profile says he's "in the medical field", and one of the several photos shows him in scrubs. Damn! Really cute. "Mixed ancestry." I wish he were closer. I also wish he were a little older. Really good looking. Articulate, too. I replied to his note, but I don't really see anything happening there.

Also yesterday I got a note on the major site, from a 60's-ish policeman who lives way up north of Schenectady - probably a good hour and a half from here, at least. He sounds like a nice guy, but he's so far away. He's also well over 6 feet tall, and I think I'm going to stick to men whose faces I can see when I walk with them, for a while, anyway. I haven't replied yet. Don't know quite what to say.

There are plenty of men on both sites who live within a reasonable distance of here, and all of them have at least looked at my profile, but I'm getting no interest from any of them. One guy told me that the "I'm not looking for a husband" scares them off, because it looks like all I want is a date, an escort. I'd think it would attract rather than repel because it also means I'm not desperate.

No interest locally, except of course, that lawyer in Poughkeepsie.

Weirdest thing there. He didn't call back after our first phone conversation, when I scared the poop out of him by asking him if he knew so-and-so, other lawyers I know in family court. The major website put some kind of enhancement on last week - it was on for only one day, then it disappeared - where they actually said how many times this person and that person had looked at your profile. So naturally, I scrolled through the list of peekers, and many of them had looked once, many twice, several three times, a few four times, and then I got to the third page and came to the lawyer, and he had looked at my profile ten times! Obviously, there was some interest there, no?

Oh, well. Technically I'm not really ready yet anyway, so I guess I should be grateful.

Cajun dancing in Woodstock tonight, and I want to leave here by seven. Today was no-coat warm outside, and I sweated a lot at the spa, so I have to do my hair as well as wash. Wish me happy feets.

#553 Activities

Thursday, 02/02/06

Wow! It's Thursday! What happened to Wednesday? I haven't the faintest idea what I did all day yesterday. I slept late for some unknown reason (got to bed early the night before), went to the spa in the afternoon instead of morning, ... ummm - blank period ..., met Roman for dinner before class, went to class, came home and went to bed early, something like 11 pm. Woke at 4:40 am this morning, back to sleep about 6 am for another 3 hours.

I did only one round at the spa yesterday. My body is complaining, not badly, just nagging "Please don't do that" kind of stuff. The problem with my left arm seems to center on the muscle on the back of the upper arm, especially where it attaches to the shoulder. I'll completely skip that machine today, give it a rest.
---------------------------
Later:
Went to the spa, did two rounds of the machines. Then to the bank to deposit some checks from the sale of stock, then dropped in on Piper and gave him a personal check for that amount, then to the drug store for some bubble bath, and as soon as I finish this I'm going to take a bubble bath.

Dinner with Mensa tonight at El Coqui, but I have to skip Trivia - they moved it from Poughkeepsie to Fishkill, and that would be too much of a rush to make it there in time from Kingston.

Tomorrow night there's Cajun dancing in Woodstock, with lessons first (no partner required), so if I can get myself psyched up, I want to go to that.

Saturday night Twisted Tassels (http://twistedtassels.com/) will be dancing in Woodstock with live drumming, so I definitely want to go. I invited Roman (and he actually paused before saying no, he'll be in LI, he had told me earlier at dinner that he'd be going, but what the heck, doesn't hurt to try), and Piper and his lady friend (but Piper will be visiting his daughter for her birthday), and The Angel (who wasn't in the office, I left a note, so who knows), and the Mensa Yahoo group (but they never come, their concept of belly dancing doesn't extend to tribal style and I think it scares them). However, I can probably expect to see a few people I know there anyway.

So, Mother is busy busy. It's weird - this winter there seems to be a lot more going on than ever before. The available activities list looks more like summer.

Off to my bath.

#552 Problem With External Hard Drive....

Tuesday, 01/31/06

I'm reading the documentation on the installation CD for the new external hard drive. Found a new requirement - it insists on having Pentium III. But you have to open the box and read the users' guide on the CD to discover that. I don't know what this thing's got. Also, the instructions on what to do if the CD doesn't start up are on the CD! And only on the CD. Sheesh. Doesn't anybody have a usability testing department any more?

--------------------

Later. Ok, I installed the external hard drive device driver, and the software for automatic backups. It was quick and easy, I guess. Then I hooked up the cables for the drive, plugged it into the wall and into the USB port, and waited. The instructions seem to think that Windows will eventually "find" it (in two minutes or so), after which I am supposed to push the "backup button" on the drive to "finish the installation".

I waited twenty minutes, and Windows didn't find it. So then I pushed the backup button anyway, hoping an interrupt from the device would call Windows' attention to it, but --- still nothing. So I did a shutdown/restart. Windows checks devices on startup, right? Still nothing.

I had unplugged a camera from the USB port a few days ago. Could that be causing the problem? When I put the new display on here, and when I hooked up the new printer, Windows found them right away. What can I do now?

Sob.

I'm also worried that by pushing the button when Windows wasn't paying attention, I may have screwed up the remainder of the installation process.

Sigh....

#551 No News

Tuesday, 01/31/06

For several months now I have been avoiding the news. I don't watch TV or listen to the radio, I skim the newspaper, and I barely glance at the headlines on the computer. I seem to have done it unconsciously - just one day I noticed that I was avoiding news reports. It seems like as the stress went up with Roman, I needed to reduce stress everywhere else, and I find news reports to be major stressors. It's not that I don't care what's happening in the world outside my home, it's that maybe I care too much.

Despite all my careful avoidance, the Hamas/Israel thing, and the Iran thing, have bled through, and I sometimes have small moments of near panic. I'm afraid for my child, and for the grandchildren I don't even have yet. I don't understand why it all has to be so hard, when it could be so easy.

Nearer to home, there's the proposal to build several thousand condos and townhouses on the west bank of the Hudson. That makes me breathe heavily, too. The infrastructure around here is already near collapse, but - there's money to be made, so I'm afraid it will happen anyway. Money rules.

I want it all to go away.

#550 Decades

On Death
I believe that you don't die of natural causes until you have finished your path (and I'm beginning to believe it for unnatural causes, too). There is a path you will take in this life, and when you come to the end of that path, you go on to the next. This doesn't mean predestination, you do still have free choice on absolutely everything. Sort of like a test you've signed up for. You can study hard and go in and work very hard on the essay questions and the multiple choice, or you can shrug and guess, or you can just put the pencil down and refuse to participate. You could have signed up for one part or all the parts. But at the end, the test is over when all the sections you chose time out, and whatever you have done, you get your score at the end. Not to say that life is a test, but like a test, certain subjects are shown to you, you have free will throughout, and you learn or you don't within the structure, as you choose. When the path/test is over, you leave, having learned or not. You go on to the next phase, which is determined by this one.

So don't cry for the deceased. They have simply transformed, graduated, moved on. Wave goodbye. Know that if you cry, you cry for yourself and the loved ones. If that person was an intersector to you, and you didn't take advantage of that intersection, if you chose for some reason, possibly even a good one, not to learn from them what you could when you could, then cry for yourself.

On Decades
(Only loosely related to the above....)
My life seems to have divided itself neatly and sharply into development decades.

• 1944 to 1954 was confusion and loneliness.
• 1954 to 1964 was physical pain.
• 1964 to 1974 was emotional pain.
• 1974 to 1984 was enormous emotional and psychological growth, the awakening.
• 1984 to 1994 was stability and learning about, opening to, love.
• 1994 to 2004 was love, loss, and the growth of strength.

I wonder what phase I'm in now?

#549 The Little Lady Stomps NYC

I had a very good visit with Daughter and "the leading candidate for son-in-law", Hercules.

Saturday evening we went to see Stomp, something I've wanted since I first saw them on TV in the mid 90s.

Getting there was half the fun. We planned to drive to a Park-'n-ride and take a bus into the city, but Daughter had been called into work, and was going to catch the same bus that Hercules and I would be getting on further down the line. We planned to catch the 5:18 bus, but it mysteriously disappeared, never showed up, so we ended up on the 5:40, which made time tight. There was all kinds of cell phone coordination to make sure Daughter would be on the same bus ("Ok, I'm on it, you should see us coming over the hill any minute....") I was prepared for her and the bus to vanish, as mysteriously as the first one.

The bus ride was fun. We were in the front seats, up next to the driver and the doors, so I got a good view as we were headed into the Lincoln Tunnel, and the driver cut across four lanes to go through the far right tunnel. I watched in fascination as he nudged cars out of the way, and marveled at itty-bitty cars that refused to give an inch, drivers bent far over clutching the steering wheel with full nelsons and red faces and refusing to acknowledge this behemoth bearing down on their flank. Daughter and I were bouncing up and down in our seats, cheering on our driver and congratulating him on every victory. Heck, we were in a hurry! The driver grinned.

We had mapped out a subway trip from Port Authority to the theater, involving two lines, but the lost bus cost us too much time, so we took a taxi. (Our driver's name was Paul Mensah, which Hercules thought was prophetic, or funny, or something. He wove us in and out of traffic like he was headed for a touchdown.) I was surprised that there were so many people on the streets. My only other experience with Manhattan was when I took a series of Company classes in the late 80s, and on weekends then, nothing was open, and no one was out - but Hercules says it was where I was - just south of Central Park. Not exactly Broadway and Times Square weekend-wise.

We made it to the theater almost in time (meaning they let us stand in the back until the first number was over, so we didn't miss much). I was surprised at how small the Orpheum is. For the next hour and 45 minutes I smiled like I haven't in months. My favorite part was the water-cooler jugs. Loved the sound of them.

When the show was over, I found a Ukrainian restaurant right next door selling pierogies, and I couldn't walk right past Ukranian pierogies. Then we decided instead of taking the two trains to Port Authority, we'd walk to the green one (on the subway map), take it two stops, and walk the rest of the way. Cool. Walking after pierogies. That means I could have a hot dog from one of those street carts, too! Whoo!

At one point we walked past a big building, and Hercules said "That's the Empire State Building", and I said "Oooo, can we?" so we did. It was pretty windy up there, but that's ok, it wasn't too very cold that evening. I was so jazzed that one of the security guards asked me if I was ok. He probably thought I was "on" something, but I was just enjoying everything enormously. I hopped up and down a lot. Sometimes I even broke into skipping. (Even if Daughter was acting like she was bored with the world and embarrassed by me.)

We walked through Times Square, where I got my real NYC steam cart hot dog (rather bland, actually, but only $2, and the bun was good), and Hercules showed me where he worked - we went into the building lobby and looked at the directory on the wall - and then we arrived back at the bus station. I thought my NYC experience was over. I was wrong.

There were about 24 people calmly lined up at the bay doors (#321), when two slick teenagers came out of the men's room behind us, looked at the line, discussed the situation (within our hearing, the idiots) and decided to cut line. They went out the doors of bay #322 and around the piece of wall and waited outside the #321 doors. They'd be first on the bus. There were three beefy middle-aged men in line just in front of us who didn't take too kindly to that. They referred to the young men as "the Gotti boys" (which worried one of the men, until I amended it to "more like Gotti cousins", to laughter - it's attitude, not blood). Hercules pointed out that the four of them ought to be able to escort two wimpy kids off the bus if it did turn out that seats were in short supply.

So we get on the bus, and sure enough, the two young men have appropriated the long back seat, and are lying on it, taking up the whole thing. And since we were near the end of the line, the annoyed men were in seats near the back. And, well, I couldn't see or hear much, but at least one of the older men, backed up by the others, went back there and told the kids that if they were so sick they needed to lie down, that they should get OFF! the bus NOW! and go get some medicine. He repeated it, in a very gentle and concerned, but firm, voice (but I'd have loved to have seen his face) until they "got it" and sat up. The other men then loudly and pointedly directed people back to the bench seat until it was full.

I was fascinated, especially because of the "Limbo" book I'm reading about the differences between blue collar or working class and white collar or middle class (in the cultural, not financial, sense). This was a very blue collar thing. According to the book, most men in the blue collar neighborhood feel strongly that it is their duty to correct and guide younger men in the proper way to act, and they're not going to let little snot-noses like this get away without proper instruction. That man was talking to them like he was their uncle, who was very disappointed in them, and I suspect they were from the same type of neighborhood, because they TOOK it like he was an uncle. It was a confrontational, territorial, and no-nonsense enforcing of the rules for behaviour.

Cool.

The cap on the evening came this morning, when Hercules presented me with a DVD of the Stomp show, which he had picked up in the lobby while Daughter was visiting the restroom and I was following my nose to pierogies. He also made a CD of the audio portion, which I listened to as I drove home. Twice through.

A good weekend. I'm happy.

#548 Long Drive

I'm in central NJ, at Daughter's place. I left home at exactly 3 pm. Traffic was the worst I've ever seen. The trip that ordinarily would take two hours and fifteen minutes took four hours and twenty minutes, and the last three hours worth, there were no convenient rest areas. I thought I'd burst. But, I'm here.

Gas here, by the way, is 30 cents per gallon cheaper. I don't understand why. New York swears it's not a state tax. They claim the difference has to do with port charges. Well, why doesn't New York bring their gas in through the same ports as New Jersey does, and then just truck it into upstate New York? It's not like there are interstate duties.... Somebody's ripping us off!

#547 I Am Jung?

You scored as C.G. Jung.

You are more of a spiritualist than would be immediately apparent. Some of your notions are questioned by the cynical, but deep down you know the human consciousness is more than the flesh and tissue can account for.

You tend to take a scientific observationist look on matters the average person wouldn't even begin to analyze.

You personally are responsible for most of the ideas that are floating around in modern psychologist's/psychic's paltry little skulls. On the down side, you tend to be associated with that asshole Freud.

C.G. Jung 75%
Dante Alighieri 58%
Stephen Hawking 50%
O.J. Simpson 42%
Elvis Presley 33%
Mother Teresa 33%
Friedrich Nietzsche 33%
Sigmund Freud 33%
Jesus Christ 33%
Miyamoto Musashi 25%
Adolf Hitler 25%
Charles Manson 17%
Steven Morrissey 17%
Hugh Hefner 8%

What Pseudo Historical Figure Best Suits You? created with QuizFarm.

#546 Criminals with Gall

In the stupid criminals catagory: The owners of a stolen laptop have found a way to catch the thieves using eBay. Check out this eBay listing (it will be available for three months, unless eBay takes it down sooner, which is possible, it's getting a lot of publicity, and it does break the rules, so look quick). Scroll past the boilerplate to get to the meat, and then further to the emails.

I got up early this morning, planning to go to the spa before heading to NJ, but I've got a serious ache in my right calf, toward the outside front, just above where the nerves are dead. One of the problems with fibromyalgia is that when you have pain somewhere, you don't know for sure whether it's the usual for-no-reason pain, or whether you've injured something. I'm afraid that one of these days I'll drop dead of a ruptured internal something-or-other, and my last thought will be "Gee, this is getting harder and harder to ignore...." (You'll recall that I went to the ER with the exploding gall bladder not because of the pain, but because I was vomiting blood. My cousin Ray/Skippy had a gall bladder problem a few months after mine, and he was able to ignore the pain too long, and it damaged his pancreas, and he died. That's why I was so worried about Roman's mother - she tends to ignore inconvenient pain, too. But she's home now and doing well, so that's over, I guess.)

Therefore, in the interests of safety, and a little bit of lazy "any excuse is a good one", I skipped the spa today.

I'm heading for NJ to visit Daughter this afternoon, returning Sunday. Saturday night we're going to Stomp, at the Orpheum. I thought our seats were in the balcony - they were slightly more expensive, but I figured that with Daughter and I both being so short, if people stood up at all, with the balcony seats on a slope, we'd be still be able to see. But the tickets have arrived, and they're in the orchestra. My memory is confused. But at least they're on the aisle.

Now, pardon me while sell the next lot of Exxon, ignore the clench in my stomach while I do it, and then go pack. (I don't know why I always plan the timing of these trips so that I'm driving through the metro areas at rush hour. Mutter, mutter.)

#545 I Think, Therefore I'm Not

Thursday, 01/26/06

Coffee with Piper yesterday, and he explained why it was a good idea to sell the IBM stock now, and not wait for it to go up. He convinced me, what he said made sense at the time, but durn if I can reproduce his argument now. If I try I just end up back where I started. So - I submitted a sell order for all but the jointly owned shares last night. No turning back now. And no stomach clenching on that one. I even went ahead and sold more than he had recommended.

When I get the checks we'll buy short-term tax-free municipal bonds. The bonds won't grow in principle like stock does, but the interest income will be higher than the stock dividends, and we'll reinvest the excess income. The plan is that over the next three years, I'll be selling old stock, and some will go to bonds, some to indexed mutual finds, and some to individual stocks. He says I should have no more than 8% in any one company, and no more than 15% in any one industry (unlike the 55% I have now in oil!). That way if anything crashes, I don't get hurt too badly.

At the spa today, the last day of my free trial, I signed up for a month-to-month membership. So I'm sorta committed, at least until it warms up and dries up outside and I can walk again. Those machines are making a noticeable difference in tone (my bat-wings are already firming up!), but they don't seem to be helping with the weight loss, not like walking does. I've been very pleased that my pulse rate has been right on target.

You know what's weird? My behind is losing padding and getting firmer - and sitting is actually not as comfortable as before! I have to keep shifting my weight to get comfortable. It's like the chair got harder.

As evidence that my eating habits have changed, I got a handful of potato chips out of the pantry this evening, and they were stale! I'd never tasted a stale potato chip before....

I bought the external hard drive, 200 GB worth. It will probably be next Monday or Tuesday before I can try it.

Roman called last night, very late (yes, Daughter, as per that article you sent me, it does seem to average every two days), and we had an extremely satisfying 90 minute conversation. I don't mind the way things seem to be going now, and I am content with it. I think part of my problem is that the past few months he had seen a bad side of me, what with the jealousy and anger and all, and it seemed very unfair. Now he is seeing a better me, and that kind of makes it all ok. Just so he knows the better me. That's fair.

One of the dumbest things: When I shut down AOL last night, I shut it down under an alternate screen name (id) instead of the main screen name (id). When I connected to the internet this morning (BizOnline), I hadn't started AOL yet, McAfee (which is not supposed to be running at all - even the icon says it's disabled) put up a little window saying that there were updates available. So I answered ok, go get'em, thinking it was just virus definitions. McAfee went to its site, and proceeded to download a whole new McAfee, and it kept addressing me in its messages by the alternate AOL id. Duh?

Now, let me get this straight. McAfee is sitting there mulling the universe, it concludes that the current AOL id has never downloaded McAfee, so it concludes that it itself does not exist? "I think therefore I'm not"?

After that finished, I tried running a scan, just to make sure McAfee was ok, I mean nobody said they were replacing files with the same name or anything (although if they are stored under different AOL id folders, would they notice?) and apparently something must have got doubled, McAfee-1 and McAfee-2 got into a pissing contest, and I lost.

I can't run it from the toolbar icon any more. It hangs the system. But if I click on Start -> Programs -> McAfee, then it runs just fine.

Just more stuff I don't understand. That pile seems to be growing lately.

#544 Yes! Yes! I Have One!

Wednesday, 01/25/06

At last Thursday's dinner I mentioned that my computer is more than ten years old, probably twelve, since I remember being jealous when we bought both Daughter and Father-in-law new PCs when Daughter was in college, but Jay wanted to keep this one, and I'm so afraid it will overheat some day and I'll have a head crash and lose everything. I have no backup. None.

The guys told me that what I should do is get an external hard drive, and dump everything to it periodically. Sounded good to me, so I went shopping for one this afternoon, after my workout on the spa machines (man, is my left arm sore!)

I found a mature salesman who seemed to know what he was talking about. It seems that an external hard drive will connect only to a USB port. He said that my hardware is old enough that I may not have one, so he showed me what it looked like so I could go home and look. Also, the external hard drive works only with Windows 98 SE (Second Edition) and up. Do I have 98, or 98 SE? I dunno. So I had some homework.

"Now," I asked him, "just in case, if I don't have a USB port, or 98 SE, what can I do?" Apparently not much. I'm beginning to realize that I'm going to have to upgrade soon, or I absolutely won't be able to transfer files at all. So, just in case, what if I buy a new processor? Would I be able to transfer files from the old CPU to the new one?

The answer to that is apparently yes - since that can be done (in many hours) over a parallel connection. He showed me the software that you install and run on both machines, and then it transfers the files, and it will work with parallel and on Windows 98 (non-SE).

Um, but there's still a problem, I said. I already have a good display, keyboard, and mouse, and prefer not to buy new. So how would I go about running that program on both machines at the same time? That stumped him.

When I got home, I got out the flashlight and crawled under the desk, and Yes!! we do have a USB port! The camera is plugged into it. I don't know if it works, though, because the few times I tried to work the camera the code said it was offline, no matter what buttons I pushed on it. But the light on top of it flashes on IPL, so I don't know. It used to work - Jay put it in the front window and took pictures of deer in the front yard, and stop-action streams of sunrises. Well, that's a problem for later. It's enough for now that I do have a place to plug the cable in.

Next I checked the system level, and Yes!!! it IS Windows 98 SE! I'm in business!

If there was anyone standing on my front porch this evening to hear all the "Yes! Yes! Yes!!!"ing, they'd have thought I had finally brought a man into the house.

#543 What I Did on a Break

Wednesday 01/25/06

On a break
I didn't write about it when I did it, because I was embarrassed about having done it, and I didn't know what to think about it, but I've pretty much settled my mind about it, so here goes.

Wednesday of last week, I made an impulsive and unannounced visit to Roman. I knew he would be teaching a morning class in Wappingers that day, and he'd been under so much pressure lately, I was worried about him. I wanted to see for myself how he was. I could meet him outside the building at noon, after class, but then he'd feel forced to make some excuse re lunch (he was headed back to LI that afternoon), so I decided to catch him on the break, which would be around 10:30 am, for maybe 15 minutes. No pressure, and a neat time limit.

I arrived at about 10:15 and sat on the floor in the hall with my book. He called the break at 10:45, and a few students left the room (I think there were three in the class). I walked into the room, and he was sitting in a student chair next to a woman about our age, and talking about his fancy new camera (the one I gave him less than two weeks before "taking a break", the gift he has not offered to return, the cad). He looked up and saw me, and turned beet red. I've never seen anyone, let alone him, so red. I don't know whether he was startled to see me, or whether he was embarrassed to be caught flirting, or to be caught talking about my gift so cavalierly to impress another woman. Whatever. It was actually kind of funny.

We moved to the other side of the room, where he told me the latest about his mother, and I told him he didn't have to worry about me messing him up with the other woman (the one at home, not the one in the classroom, but I didn't say that), and he hugged me, and then we moved out into the hall, where I got several more hugs, the cheek-to-cheek kind, and he even shifted his head a bit once and kissed me in front of my ear, which I wish he hadn't done, that's confusing. So I was satisfied - he looked very good, I could stop worrying about him. I was afraid he'd be all haggard.

I hope he realizes that I won't say anything to "her" about him and me, but by damn, if he picks up with another woman, I WILL tell "her"! At this point I'm sort of on her side, and if he screws around again, it's me and her against him, by damn!

I wonder now if he glances at the doorway every time he calls a break, and I wonder if it's with hope or dread. I really don't know which I'd prefer.

Fur Storage
You're supposed to care for your furs by putting them in a cool slightly humid fur vault over the summer. Then in the winter, you get them out to wear, and they'll be hanging in a closet in your house all winter. That doesn't make any sense to me.

I've got some pretty fox and mink jackets (and one full-length, full skin, fox coat that I can't wear because I look like a walking igloo in it), (and before you get all excited, I bought all of them used, at auctions, so I did not create a market, and I did not pay a lot, about 1/7 their retail value). Two years ago I looked into summer storage for them. Ick! It would cost over $300 for me to store them, and that didn't include the hats. That's when I started thinking about it, and decided the whole arrangement didn't make sense.

Hot dry air is bad for them, right? So in the summer, when your house is air conditioned and a bit humid, you pay to store them? And then in the winter, when your house is full of dry heated air, you hang them in your closet? That doesn't make sense to me. It's exactly backward. Maybe it made sense before air conditioning, but not now.

So I've set up a canvas wardrobe in the basement, and that's where they live all year round. The canvas breathes, it's cool all the time, and it's not exactly humid, but not as dry as upstairs.

So there, Ms. Oppenheimer!

#542 Limbo (the book....)

Tuesday 01/24/06

I am reading Limbo, subtitled Blue-Collar Roots, White-Collar Dreams, by Alfred Lubrano. It's about the role of class in American society, specifically about what happens to people from blue collar families when they cross over into a white collar life. Along with the different approach to college, the problems of "fitting in" socially, he points out that children of the working class are taught to "sit down and shut up", more so than children of the middle class. They expect conformity and supervision. In the working class home, there is less conversation, and what there is is more concrete, less about ideas and opinions than in a middle or upper class home. One is expected to "follow the line". This is powerfully reinforced by neighborhood peers.

College often opens their eyes. They go home with all kinds of new ideas and ways of thinking and looking at things, and it often causes them problems with the family.

As adults, people with blue collar roots tend to obey the rules, and rarely buck the system. They "talk straight", and expect straight talk, while in the white collar world, people rarely say what they mean.

I am only about a third of the way through the book, and my head is spinning.

My father was a officer in the Air Force. Through my high school years he was the base commander, which made us the top of the heap. Especially where we lived - on the top of a mountain in the middle of nowhere. Heck, when I was younger, he was with the embassy in Canada (he wore suits, not a uniform), and because my mother was intelligent and beautiful and a much admired hostess, I many times ate Sunday lunch at our dining room table with the ambassador, who frequently just "dropped in". So I thought that we were white collar, middle class.

I was wrong. And it explains so much.

Neither of my parents had gone to college. My father got into OTS and flight training school during WWII by scoring highest of the candidates on what was essentially an IQ test. My paternal grandfather was a traveling salesman, and my maternal grandfather was a railroad engineer (as in he drove the train, not designed it). So I come from solidly blue, thoroughly working class, collars, and I never realized it before.

I think a lot of my father's anger and frustration was due to the fact that he didn't fit in socially with the other officers, his peers. He just wasn't smooth enough, just didn't use the same vocabulary and approach. I know he was widely respected for his abilities, he was often sent to problem bases as temporary commander to straighten them out, and he worked on Project Bluebook for a while, and yet his promotions always took that little bit longer to come.

I recognize the resistance to college described by Lubrano. I went only because I won all those scholarships and grants. My parents didn't even consider college until after I won the awards, which meant I applied very late (June, to be exact) and wouldn't have gotten in were it not for my test scores. None of my four siblings went to college, although they were all capable of college work. As is pointed out in the book, a "real job" was considered more important.

I recognize in myself the traits common to what Lubrano calls the Straddlers - those who straddle the blue-white line.

Jay, on the other hand, was pure white collar, middle class. Maybe even upper class without the patrician overtones. He had that sense of entitlement. I am starting to understand now why some of the attitudes and thinking patterns in his family were so confusing and foreign to me.

Because, hey, I think blue collar. Wow. Who'd a thunk it!

#541 Bits & Pieces

Tuesday 01/24/06

Tattoo Photos - Margaret Cho. She's finally done. Snake coiled around her middle, with peonies.

Stock Sale
Strength machines this morning, followed by lunch with Piper. I told him I sold a mess of Exxon Mobile yesterday as he had recommended (not without a lot of stomach clinches, scary scary), and he said the Exxon had jumped and I'm getting a better price than they had figured, so I'd better sell some IBM now to offset the Exxon and lower the capital gains tax. He thinks maybe IBM might rise a bit soon, and I'll want to sell it while it's low to take the loss.

Which I don't understand. Let's say the capital gains tax is 30%. So for every dollar loss on the IBM that I can deduct from the Exxon profits, I save $.30 on taxes. I get that. But let's pretend the IBM rises, and I don't get as big a loss on it. Let's say it goes up a dollar (but is still a loss, just a smaller loss). Doesn't that mean that I maybe don't save the $.30 tax I will have to pay on each dollar of the Exxon profits, but in total cash I'm still $.70 ahead for each of those dollars? Duh? What am I thinking wrong? I'm gonna have to drop in on him again tomorrow, I think. I think it might have to do with jumping brackets, maybe. He and Angel figured it pretty close.

But still, $.70? I don't think the bracket jump is that wide.

Wanted - An Intimate Friend
I found this in an old newspaper in the basement: "But oh, the blessing it is to have a friend to whom one can speak fearless on any subject, with whom one's deepest as well as one's most foolish thoughts come out simply and safely. Oh, the comfort - the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person - having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but pouring them all right out, just as they are, chaff and grain together, certain that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and then with the breath of kindness blow the rest away." From A Life for a Life, 1866, Dinah Maria Mulock Craik.

I want a one o' them. Maybe that's part of the purpose of this journal, to satisfy my need for someone I can talk to without having to keep the governor on the motor. Plus, if folks won't be kind enough to blow away the chaff, I can recant in here a day or two later, and it's right there together, so they can't claim they never heard it.

Mensa World Gathering
I registered yesterday for the Mensa World Gathering in Orlando in August. The gathering is seven days, but I reserved a room at the hotel (Disney's Coronado Springs Resort, near the Animal Kingdom) for ten days, thinking maybe I'll also "do" Disney after the gathering, and visit my siblings. I'm excited. The program is seven months from completion, but look at what they've got scheduled already: https://secure.us.mensa.org/members/wg06_proginfo.php
I have to decide whether I want to fly down, or drive. If I drive, it'll be cheaper, and I'll have my own vehicle for visiting, and I can play tourist on the way home, maybe visit some friends in GA and NC. But driving alone, it will probably take me a minimum of two days each way. Miss Thunderfoot won't speak to me when I get home. Gotta think about it.

Online Dating Update
My profile is still up on the online dating site. It's been viewed 118 times. That doesn't mean it turned up in searches 118 times, it means that 118 different people actually clicked on the thumbnail and went to look at the details. And if the viewer is also registered, I can go look at who looked at me.

What a mix! Why on earth would a 35-year-old hottie, who says he's looking for women 25-38, click on the photo of a 61-year-old woman? Doesn't he have anything better to look at? Almost 1/3 of the men who have checked out my profile are under 50, and looking for women their age. So I'm surprised to find them checking out me. Idle curiosity? If they got ME in their search, then they must have got a bazillion others. Shall I be flattered? Or should I be worried.

I have noticed that often when a man says he's looking for a woman about his age or a little younger, he has provided a photo. When he says he's looking for women in a VERY broad age range, he provides no photo. Makes ya wonder....

I've gotten ten or twelve expressions of interest, most from reasonable sounding guys, but almost all have been from too far away. I'm not interested in anything long distance. Even 50 miles is too far. I want somebody nearby that I can talk with and ram around with. I'm not desperate to find someone, anyone, somewhere, anywhere, who is anxious to get married. So I just reply with the distance problem. The few local guys who winked or sent email just didn't interest me, or, like the lawyer, started to smell funny.

Not a Joke
From a radio call-in show. If it were a joke, it would be a bad one, but it made me laugh.

DARYL'S DRIVETIME, VIRGIN RADIO
Daryl Denham: In which country would you spend shekels?
Contestant: Holland?
Daryl Denham: Try the next letter of the alphabet.
Contestant: Iceland? Ireland?
Daryl Denham (helpfully): It's a bad line. Did you say
Israel?
Contestant: No.

#540 But...?

Roman called shortly after I finished the previous entry. He said something that startled me. There's so much backstory he hasn't told me. Gotta think about it for a while.

Then I went out to clear the driveway. It took two hours, because it was very wet and heavy, and when I was about halfway through it started drizzling, which made it harder. But I got it done. So freezing rain tonight won't hurt.

While I was walking up and down behind the machine, I got to thinking about "I love you, but ...." There are a lot of secondary clauses you can tack onto the end of that sentence, like "I love you, but I have to go to work." Or "I love you, but you've GOT to do something about your hair!" The first clause is a statement, and the second clause is also a statement, and rather than the second modifying the first, the first modifies the second. The first is strong. In almost all of the examples I could think of, they didn't have both the same subject (I) and object (you). The second clause veered. The two are not strongly related.

When the second clause is meant to modify the first, having the same subject and object, like "I love you, but I ... you", put almost anything in there, the second lessens the first, and usually negates the first. Negates because there should be no "but"s in love when the listener is expecting the romantic variety of the word. If you've got a "but" modifier in there, you aren't there yet. And it's unlikely you will ever get there.

"And"s are much nicer.

Off to shower. I'd still like to make it to the exercise machines today if I can.

#539 What I Would Say to Her

Monday, 01/23/06

I got up early this morning to go to the spa and work on the machines, and found snow in the driveway. It's already above the floor of the van and still falling, so I guess I'm not going anywhere until it stops and I can clear it.

I got email from Roman last night, about 1:30 am. He has recanted on my sending flowers, says he "doesn't know why" he told me not to. I'm beginning to wonder if he might have some kind of split personality thing going. He so often says or does something, then later he's completely different. Even his face changes. I've often said to him "Is this you, or your twin brother?" Either that or he's reading this journal after he told me he doesn't. I really don't think he is. I don't know. I don't care about that any more. I had offered it to him as a way to "get to know the real me", but he wasn't interested. (Actually, what he said was "Why read it - you always tell me everything that's in it anyway.") If he's reading it now, it's not to know me, but to find out if I'm thinking of retaliation.

I want to stop writing about him and thinking about him, but he's still such a presence. It's just poke, poke, poke. I want some kind of resolution. He's so afraid I will contact "her" and tell her what's been going on. If he thinks that, he doesn't know me at all. I am very tempted to contact her, but not to destroy him. What I would say to her is:

Roman loves you very much.
He's very unhappy.
You have it within your power to make him happy.
He wants to be completely accepted into your life, but you are holding him off.
You are torturing him.
You have him in limbo.
If you love him completely, accept his offer.
If you don't love him completely, turn him loose.
But don't keep him dangling like this.
It's not fair to him.

I could do it. I know where to find her if I want to talk to her. I could write her a note. I could call her. But I probably won't. Not for a while, anyway. Not until after my feelings have changed. I reserve the right to change my mind. But mostly probably I won't.

Why?

Because there's three ways it can go. She accepts him fully, she turns him loose, or he eventually realizes she doesn't love him enough (which is my opinion, I think she likes him and finds him convenient, but not more than that) and he gives up on her.

If she accepts him fully, and they move in together and live happily ever after, I can handle that. I keep telling him all I want is for him to be happy, and that is absolutely true. I would be quite content with that result.

If she turns him loose, and if he then turns to me, I would have to reject him. Under those conditions I'd never be anything to him but second choice, and for my own health I can't allow him to do that to me. And that will tear me up.

If he eventually realizes that he can't get what he needs from her, and leaves her of his own accord, then I might consider starting over if he turns to me. Might. I don't know. I need honesty and openness, and I don't know if he's capable of learning that. He seems to me now to be naturally manipulative and duplicious. I don't think he even knows when he's doing it. Sometimes it's like the better part of himself (and there is a lot of "better part" to him) catches himself doing it and backs up, and that's when I see "the twin".

So anyway, there's nothing in it for me in contacting her, since if there was any result at all from what I'd have to say, it would be the first or second, and the second is just too painful for me to contemplate right now. Maybe it would be easier a long time from now, after I've moved on, but not now, not so soon.

So, Roman, if you're reading this, your secret is safe. Always was.

#538 Comments, and Dreams

Sunday 01/22/06

I got a comment from Patrick, of Patrick's Place, on entry #522, telling me how to find the missing comments. (Wow! Patrick visited my journal? Even if it was just that entry, I'm flattered!) I did as he said, and I found all the lost comments, including the one on #509 from Little Red (thank you for your sympathy), some spam comments, and I few I need to respond to via email. So thank you, Patrick.

There was also a "lost" comment from Gabreael of Gabreael's Mind, Body, & Spirit on entry #518 Scary Dream, wherein she points out that a house usually represents us or our family situation.

Yeah, I knew that. But I've also found that sometimes, where dream interpretation is concerned, you know darn well what it's all about, it should be clear as day, but things will still obstinately hide from you for a while.

When I was waiting for the oil change the other day, there was a young man in the waiting room who was on the cell phone constantly. He was speaking Russian in all the calls he made. I was even able to understand a few things he said from having heard some of the older folks, back when I lived on the mountain in high school. And as I sat there, I realized that the man in the dream in entry #518 was speaking Russian.

I should have recognized it right away in the dream, but I guess I hid it.

Roman had told me his people were from Russia.

The man who was trying to get into my house was smallish and thin and dirty. Roman is not tall, but he's a bit stocky, and he smells good even after getting sweaty and not having had a shower in 36 hours (sigh...). So I think the dream man was not so much Roman himself as the situation we're in - me (small), him (Russian), her (thin), the triangle (disheveled and dirty).

Ever since he had confessed his duplicity in early November, I haven't like the way I'd been feeling. I didn't like the thoughts I had or the way I was acting. I'd never really had any experience with jealousy before, and I didn't know how to handle it. By that first week in January I was beginning to not like me. I was losing respect for myself.

For me, if you know anything about my background or history, losing love or respect for myself is not a momentary problem or a trivial thing, something I can get back easily. There was a period in my life when I had no self respect, when I was sure that there was something horribly wrong with me, that everything that went wrong anywhere around me was obviously my fault, that I was unloveable, and I deserved nothing. It took me a long time, several years of therapy and hard work, to learn that I am not a bad person, that I am important, that it is possible to love me, and that I do deserve love.

I had that dream Sunday night/Monday morning, before the Monday night I last stayed over with him.

That Monday and Tuesday I was with him, several hurtful things happened, and as usual I stood there and took it. Then Tuesday afternoon I had a flashback to a very nasty time of my life, and then and there I realized that if he didn't love and respect me enough to protect me from these hurts, then it was up to me to love and respect and protect me.

That evening as soon as I got home I wrote the email to him suggesting a backing-off, and the next evening he suggested "the break", and I was fine with that. (Well, not fine, but accepting that this is what has to be. Otherwise the me I know and love dies.)

It took me until Tuesday to get to that point, but the dream shows I was already aware that the situation was trying to break into me and harm me, and that I was going to have to do something. The weird thing is, why bother with the dream? I did consciously already know.