3339 Stuff

Friday, August 19, 2011

A lot of people you hire with good paper education can't actually do the work you hire them for.
They learn while doing the job or they don't learn at all.

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I want to see the movie "The Help" when it appears locally. When a movie is based on a book, I like to read the book first. Movies tell you what happened; books tell you why it happened. Anyway, I was a bit startled when I saw the color ads for the movie on TV. Startled because when I read the book, I "saw" the movie in my mind in black and white.

I don't know why I did that, but it is somehow appropriate.

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I heard this on the radio, and it's SO true! "Government exists for the benefit of those in the government."

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A friend recently said that her doctor says she's bipolar. Ya know, I suspect that's so, and I also suspect the friend already knew that. It fits. When she's up, time with her is a gigglefest. When she's up, she does get a bit impulsive, but she controls it well. When she's down, she beats herself up a bit, but it doesn't seem to last long, and she's still pleasant to others. External happenings don't seem to "bring on" either state. It's random. I think the diagnosis fits, and it's nice to have a name for it, and a starting place for leveling things out, or at least understanding what's happening. I say congratulations, and where do we go from here.

It reminded me of a close acquaintance of a few years back who made the same announcement, that her doctor finally came up with a diagnosis, that she's bipolar. I didn't have the same reaction then at all. Nope. There was no indication of any depression with her. She'd go along just fine for a little while, and then something would happen that annoyed her, usually problems with the job or boyfriend, and she'd go into a multi-month rage. She'd attack anyone who said anything to her that she interpreted as disrespectful, and when she was in that state, she saw EVERYTHING as disrespectful. She'd have major paranoia. Most people around her eventually learned to fear her, because her rage seemed to have no limits, no controls.

I'm not a psychiatrist, but even I know that's not a bipolar thing. But the doctors know only what she chooses to tell them, and she keeps her appointments only when she's not raging. And since her rages are, in her mind, completely justified, I suspect the doctors don't know.

So she was all happy because now with a label maybe they'd get her meds right. But she was a heavy (really heavy) marijuana user, and she never told any of her doctors about it. I'm sure that has to be taken into consideration when you're talking about dosages and stuff.

I wasn't happy about her announcement. I didn't see it as forward movement. Just another misdirection.

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My furniture and "good" jewelry is almost entirely auction finds. Here's a photo catalog for an upcoming auction at the auction house where I got most of my stuff: http://www.auctionzip.com/cgi-bin/photopanel.cgi?listingid=1198164&category=0&zip=&kwd=. That's not all of it. George usually just lists a small taste. Note the Thunderbird at the end. I suspect it will go for less than 8K.
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3176 Loosening the noose

Sunday, February 27, 20011

You know you're in law school when you consider dropping out of school approximately every hour,
but after that first semester you realize you are already in too much debt
to be anything but a lawyer.

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A lot has happened since yesterday's posts. Zig has been very helpful, informative, protective, and supportive. He even engaged FW in casual conversation and determined that in fact she will NOT be attending the gathering next weekend. The report that she was going was perhaps a misunderstanding. (No one else wanted to ask her directly for fear that if they asked, it would make her want to go, and she'd hit them up for a ride and a room.)

That's a major relief. I think I'll forgive Zig all his past transgressions and even allow him a few free future ones. And others have raised a small army of volunteer bodyguards who said they'd make sure I was always surrounded by people at the gathering.

People who don't know her wonder why she frightens me so much. People who do know her understand. When she's "in a state", all the normal governors are off, she's absolutely unpredictable, and she's strangely obsessed with me. Bad combination.

Zig has expressed surprise that she is suddenly friendly toward him, calls and chatting over the past week or so. She's got me so paranoid right now that I'm thinking maybe she's being so friendly with him because she knows he and I don't get along very well, he always knows what's going on in the group, and she's subtly milking him for information - like what I might be doing to undermine her, what others think about how I have been attacking her (the attacks are in her mind only, no one else sees it that way, but in her view that's what's going on, and I don't understand that at all), and so on.

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This is weird. When the month changes, or the year changes, I sometimes use the old month or year on checks and the blog until I get used to it. This past week I've been using "October" instead of "February" when I date blog posts. I seem to really think it's October.

I'm surprised no one noticed and razzed me about it. I went back and fixed the posts, but now I'm concerned about why. Am I really that whacked? Or is it a warning, that something significant will happen in October? I'm sure it's next October. In fact, this morning I thought, "Oh, wow, today is my birthday." I really thought for a moment that it is now October.

For a long time, the first week of October was a bad time. That's when Jay had his first seizure, his first recurrence of the tumor, and so on for the four years of his fight. Every October, the first week brought some very bad news, and it continued that way for several more years.

I guess we'll have to wait a few more months to see what happens.

Remember - you heard it here first (whatever it is....)

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There are people who use the U.S. motto, "In God We Trust", and the words in the pledge, "under God", as PROOF! that the country was formed as religious-based.

They don't know their history. The reference to a god was added to the pledge in 1954, and the motto, which first appeared on coins during the Civil War, was adopted as the official motto in 1956.

The Founding Fathers had nothing to do with either.

The pledge was written by a Baptist minister in the early 1890s, and the later "under God" was added by a chaplain, and promulgated by the Knights of Columbus, a Catholic organization. They of course refer to their god. Regardless of any other consideration, my opinion is that requiring one to pledge allegiance "under God" is the establishment and endorsement of a particular version of religion as official, and therefore is expressly prohibited by the Constitution.

Oof. I don't know where that rant came from.... Some pompous ass on TV must have gotten to me.
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3174 Now I'm getting scared.

Saturday, February 26, 2011

“The most ineffective workers are systematically moved
to the place where they can do the least damage: management.”
-- Scott Adams --

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FW is heating up, and I don't understand why. I wouldn't be surprised to find her coming at me with a jar of acid. I'm not kidding. I almost never lock my front door during daylight, but I'm locking it now. She's flat-out crazy.

I have found that I can usually let go of things by writing them out, so here goes. The history. This is pretty long, as is every study in madness.

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She's a member of Mid-Hudson Mensa. At a group dinner in late 2006, I mentioned that I couldn't remember ever going out for New Year's Eve. She mentioned a dinner and a good retro band, but she couldn't afford it, so we decided to go together, and I paid for the evening for both of us.

We enjoyed it. We started going to parties, dances, dinners, movies, and so on together. She and I are very different (she's a nudist, heavy marijuana user, politically involved, artistic, and she has described herself as bi in the past "but is no longer"), so I found her views fascinating. She's on disability, so I usually footed the bill. I didn't mind, because I have it and at least I was getting out.

This was also the period when Roman was jerking me around, and I needed someone to talk with. She was madly in love with a guy who was living with another woman, with whom he had two or three small children. They used to get together at a place back in the woods near Mohonk where nudists hung out all summer. (She tried many times to talk me into going there with her, but I'm absolutely not a nudist, not even close, and from the stories, it wasn't a place for people just to be free of clothing restrictions - it was more a place for gays to cruise and straights to roll around together in the poison ivy - very sexually charged.) Or he'd show up at her house and they'd roll around there, then he'd leave. He kept promising her he was going to leave the other woman, but it showed no signs of happening.

Anyway, within a few months, she was chewing me out for not being attentive enough. She informed me that she expected chatty phone calls, a minimum of once a week. I'd told her many times that I hate the telephone, when I make a call to anyone, it's brief, to conduct some kind of business or ask a question, I just don't EVER call anyone just to chat. I hate the telephone! Even my cell phone was turned on only in emergencies. She continued to castigate me for not calling. She said some nasty things to me over my not calling. (Note - she rarely called me because it was a toll call.) She said hurtful things that left me feeling bad.

Things bumped on that way through most of 2007. I, by early summer, had started turning down invitations, because it seemed that no matter what I did, how I was, it wasn't what she thought I should do/say/be, it just wasn't enough for her. She was very demanding, and vicious when things didn't go as she wanted.

In September of 2007, she decided she wanted to go to the Mensa Hallowe'en gathering in Chicago, but she didn't want to go alone. I wasn't particularly interested, but she talked me into it. What the heck, this is supposed to be one of the largest and best of the regional gatherings, so ok, at least I'd have someone to go with. (I absolutely wouldn't have gone alone, so this was an opportunity.) I said yes, and paid for my gathering registration and four nights at the hotel, and made the flight reservation.

A week later, she informed me that she couldn't afford both the gathering registration and the plane ticket. I shrugged and paid her gathering registration. A few days after that, she asked if she could share my room, since she couldn't afford a room of her own. By now, I'm already into this for two registrations, four days' room for me, and my plane ticket, almost $1,000. Either I find her a place to sleep, or cancel everything and take the loss, or I end up going alone. I don't share a room, ever, except with a man I'm sleeping with, it just doesn't work for me, so I shrugged and reserved another room for four nights for her.

Yeah, you feel what's coming next? A few days later she says she can't afford the plane ticket. I somewhere acquired some balls and wished her luck finding a courier ticket or something. No, I couldn't afford to fly her out. Sorry.

I guess she found some money somewhere, because she made it to the gathering. I arrived Thursday afternoon, she arrived in the evening, and we had dinner at the hotel. She was having new troubles with that guy, and talked steadily about him during dinner. I knew she wouldn't want to hear what I had to say about him, so I listened, I really was attentive, "uh huh"ed at the appropriate moments, didn't say anything against him, and refrained from changing the topic.

She didn't sleep in her room Thursday night. She spent the whole night in the hospitality suite, drinking and talking, and then slept most of Friday.

Friday night was the Hallowe'en party. She decided she was going to go '60s and had asked me if I knew how to do a beehive. I said yes, so she decided I was going to do her hair early that evening. At a time of her choosing, of course. It took 1.5 hours. There were two presentations I wanted to see that I blew off to do her hair. She slept in her room that night, BUT, and I'm sorry, but I found this unbelievable, she informed me that night that she was leaving the gathering in the morning to meet a blind date in Chicago, and would be going clubbing with him Saturday and Sunday nights, and would be staying with him until her return home Monday. I asked if she had canceled the hotel room for those nights, and she acted surprised.

So Saturday morning I frogmarched her down to the desk and made sure she canceled the room, and wished her luck with the rest of the weekend. So, except for dinner Thursday, doing her hair Friday, and checking her out on Saturday morning, I was there alone for the gathering. Exactly what I didn't want to do. I felt royally used. She just wanted a trip to Chicago.

Well the next week, she called me and chewed me out up one side and down the other for not being sympathetic enough at dinner Thursday! I, like a guilty puppy, just took her abuse. I said nothing. In fact, I think I may even have apologized. It was only later that I realized that I had done nothing wrong. No thank you for the registration and room, no thank you for blowing off my plans and doing her hair instead, nothing. I felt royally used.

I did nothing, said nothing. But the next time she called, wanting to go to dinner or something, I told her that I didn't think I could be around her any more, that she made me feel bad too often, that I had worked very hard to learn to like myself and I couldn't allow her to keep tearing me down, so no, I don't think our getting together is a good idea.

That was 2007.

Now, she was the president of the local Mensa group, and I had volunteered to rewrite the Bylaws. The sessions were to be held at her home, as central to the three of us on the committee. That worked out ok. We were civil. And then something terrifying happened in April of 2008. It's amusingly described here: http://thesilkentouch.blogspot.com/2008/04/1752-psycho-ex-girlfriend.html.

I had to "break up with her" all over again.

In June, another group member, John, was having a cookout and invited all the active members. When he called her to invite her, he asked for other members' phone numbers. She wouldn't give him my number. She told him not to bother calling me, she'd call me and tell me about it. She never did. When I heard about the cookout, I was a little hurt that everyone but me (I?) had been invited. Of course, no one knew that FW had told John she'd take care of it, John didn't know she hadn't, and of course no one was going to ask John why I hadn't been invited.

That was all in 2008.

In 2009, other people in the group starting having run-ins with her. There was a public incident in a restaurant which resulted in the group treasurer resigning on the spot. Other members of the governing board were accused of undermining her control when they simply did what they thought were their duties. She was getting increasingly paranoid and irrational. A possible contributing factor was that the guy she'd been involved with married the other woman and moved to the Carolinas.

In August of 2009, she had to go to the hospital for surgery, and, amazingly, called me to ask me to take her to the hospital and to help her. I did. Somehow, that's an "of course". I was still thinking we could be civil. That story is here: http://thesilkentouch.blogspot.com/2009/08/2464-day-in-hospital.html.

That was 2009.

In March of 2010, we had the public "F**k you" screaming incident, described at http://thesilkentouch.blogspot.com/2010/03/2803-buck-you-fuddy.html, in case you skipped it in the previous post.

2010 was a group election year. I was on the nominating committee, and I worked hard to get a full slate. Several of the people nominated were people she'd had problems with. She announced that she wasn't going to run for reelection, and I didn't push her to change her mind. She started skipping governing board meetings, and then suddenly resigned her position. She dropped out of the Yahoo group. She withdrew from chapter activities, which was a relief for a lot of people, because they had gone beyond finding her merely difficult to work with, and were beginning to actively fear her.

Several people told me that she had decided to no longer take her medications. She thought she could function without them. That scared ME! Not for me, for her.

Our last direct contact had been the "F**k you" thing. The next time I saw her was at the holiday dinner in December, when we ignored each other, and I got the distinct impression that she expected me to approach her first. Then there was the dinner last week, when I again did not approach her.

And now there's the Yahoo group exchanges detailed in the previous post. All I was trying to do was help her, and she attacked me and anyone who attempted to defend me.

It has gotten worse since.

Yesterday I found something amusing and posted it to the group. This is the complete text of my post:

Subject: Accepting your Oscar: A Guide

From Shoebox.com (http://www.shoeboxblog.com/?p=23859):

Thank the little people, but don't call them "little people" because they HATE that.
Thank the spiritual being of your choice. Point up/over/ wherever (probably not down).
Thank the producer, even if he's just some rich jerk who knows nothing about movie making.
Definitely act surprised. Practice this one in the mirror beforehand.
Thank significant other, then blow a kiss to him/her. Have significant other
practice "in love" face.
Use the exit music to dance your way off stage. "The Worm" would be preferable.

I thought it amusing. If you watch people accepting Oscars, that's exactly how they do it. Except for the last sentence, maybe.

Well, today I got this personal email from another member:

FYI and confidential - [the group moderator] has placed [FW] in a "Moderator must approve posts" category on our Yahoo group. One of her two most recent posts is pending moderator approval. It claims your "Accepting Your Oscar" post is actually a slew of double entendres, and the tone of her note implies paranoia.

Regardless of whether there is anything going on (which I seriously doubt), I don't think anyone else would see that and would simply assume it is "[FW] being [FW]."

[FW] will be at [the regional gathering next weekend].

(I admit I am wrong to post that note when the author has marked it confidential, but if I turn up dead or seriously injured this weekend, show this post to the cops.)

By the way, the other of her "two most recent posts" was "Subject: The excitement is Growing", and contained only this link: http://mediumlarge.wordpress.com/2011/02/24/cats-quote-charlie-sheen/. Now, how does "the excitement is growing" apply as the subject? Do you find it ominous that it's hate-filled ranting?

So. I'm seriously scared. It will be impossible to avoid her at the gathering, and if nobody shows up at her Oscar party tomorrow night she WILL blame me. That's just the way she thinks. And she WILL retaliate. I'm serious. But I can't allow her to keep me from going to the gathering. I won't hide from her. I think I'm going to have to ask some of the other friends there to act as bodyguard. Never leave me alone.
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3173 Foiled again

Friday, February 25, 2011

Next time you’re stuck in traffic, remember - you ARE the traffic.

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I had told the world I would be heading to the old house today, with the van, and I intended to bring back loads and loads of stuff Saturday or Sunday morning. I've GOT to get moving on this.

The forecast is rain rain rain here and all the way up the road, where it becomes snow at the old house. Worse, they predict wind, with gusts up to 60 mph.

Are you kidding me?!

I guess there's no point in trying.

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FW is getting vicious again.

In December, I went to a Mensa holiday dinner with about 30 people, and she was there. She was sitting at a different table, and neither she nor I said hello. At one point in the evening she walked past my table (where she was headed I don't know) with her face averted, but her eyes were slid over at me. I think she expected me to make the first move.

It was one year ago next weekend that she screamed "F**k you!" over and over at me in public (story here: http://thesilkentouch.blogspot.com/2010/03/2803-buck-you-fuddy.html) at the annual Central NJ Mensa Gathering, embarrassing herself so badly that within a few months she resigned as president of the group. Many other people had experienced her wrath on other occasions, and nobody wants to work with her any more. She also withdrew from the Yahoo group where events are posted, topics are discussed, and people RSVP for events.

Well, she's sorta back.

She attended the dinner I went to last week. At least three people had made a point of warning me that she'd be there. I said, "Thanks for the heads-up, but I don't expect any problem. I'll be civil, but I don't intend to give her any openings."

So, as we met at the restaurant, when we were ready to order, she had not yet arrived. Peter mentioned to the waitress that we were expecting one more, and the waitress rolled her eyes and said, "She's probably lost." Turns out FW had called for directions, and the waitress told her blah blah and then turn right at blah blah intersection, and FW said, "No, I turn left there", and argued with the waitress as to where the restaurant was. According to the waitress, it was very unpleasant.

The others at the table decided that the annual Central NJ Gathering was a forbidden topic, because most of us were going, and if it were mentioned, she'd likely ask for a ride and for someone to share a hotel room with her. (To her, "share a room" means you pay for it and she sleeps in it.)

She arrived. She sat on the same side of the table as me, with Roman between us, so we couldn't really see each other unless we leaned forward. At one point she did lean forward and said she liked my haircut. I said thank you, and a guy across the table asked why I had cut it, and I launched into an explanation involving wind and hats, directed to him, and then the conversation moved on. FW laughed a lot at things that were said, she tried to be pleasant, but I was a little worried because her laugh was a bit too loud and a bit too high pitched. It seemed to me that she was wound pretty tight. All the more reason not to engage her.

Then a notice was posted on the Yahoo group. She was hosting a Oscars night party at her home. I got a little worried, because everyone who might attend had either been seriously offended by her, or was flat-out afraid of her. When a few days went by with no positive RSVPs, I got worried for her. If no one came, it could kick her over the edge.

I knew that there was one thing that always draws Mensans, and that's free food. Her notice had said that there would be "light refreshments." She has always set a good table. Everything is always a little unusual, and always delectable. So I posted a general note that they "[FW]'s refreshments may be light, but they are always delicious".

The shit hit the fan.

First she posted something she'd found on the internet - a list of "backhanded compliments".

Then she posted a public note addressed to me, that she "didn't need any backhanded compliments from" me.

I responded, "That wasn't meant as backhanded. You yourself described them as 'light'. I salivated when I read 'refreshments'. You've always laid a delicious table. Please don't read into it just because it came from me, and you perhaps feel some guilt and perhaps expect retaliation. I don't do that."

(Yeah, a subtle reminder that SHE had attacked ME over and over, and had never apologized. OK, I'm not perfect.)

Her response: "We all know that Silk. You're pure as a newborn babe."

A newish member who has never met either of us posted that she didn't know what was going on between us, but exchanges like that don't exactly encourage inactive members to become active: "Well, this is really going to encourage inactive members to come. Unless there is some existing enmity between the two of you, I can't see how Silk's original remark was anything but completely logical and innocuous. Actually it's the sort of thing I would say myself."

From there others jumped in and it went west, as they say.

Sheesh. All I wanted to do was encourage members to attend her Oscar night party, tempting them with good munchies, to save her from a total rejection, and she attacks me for that. If she commits suicide during the Oscars, I'll feel guilty.

Maybe.

By the way, the suicide reference above sounds snide, but it isn't. She has seriously attempted suicide before, and was committed for an extended period, and she is fragile. And that's why I wanted to save her the pain of Oscar night no-shows. It might not get that bad, but it could tip her into ... into ... wherever that dark place is that she goes when she feels dissed. I just wanted to help.

If she shows up at the annual central NJ gathering next weekend, I don't know what I'll do. It will be impossible to talk with her, it won't be easy to avoid her, and I refuse to leave a room just because she's in it. But I know damn well that if she has any opportunity, she'll attack. She'll blame me for nobody showing up for her Oscars party.

So, anybody have any opinions, suggestions?
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3222 Expectations

Friday, January 7, 2011

"Love is the triumph of imagination over intelligence."
-- HL Mencken --

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A few weeks ago I went to the holiday dinner with the old Mensa group, and First Woman was there. [Link to a description of our last previous encounter: http://thesilkentouch.blogspot.com/2010/03/2803-buck-you-fuddy.html]

I'm still a little bit disturbed by what happened at the dinner.

What happened? Nothing. And that's what's bothering me.

When I arrived, FW was seated at a table with five other people. When I walked past her table, she kept her face turned away from me, but she slid her eyes sideways to look at me (reminding me of a ticked-off cat who will sit in front of you with her back to you, pointedly ignoring you, but with her ears turned back toward you).

I knew instantly what I was supposed to do. I was supposed to walk over to her, enter her space, and request her attention with a little fawning.

Being the rebellious contrarian that I am, I didn't, just because I knew it was expected.

From the table I sat at, every time I looked past my table companions, I was looking directly at her, and every time I glanced her way, she was staring at me. And every time, she quickly averted her eyes.

At one point, she walked past our table, I don't know why - there was nothing of interest past our corner - and again she averted her face, but her eyes slid sideways toward me. Again, I had the impression I was being given a chance to request her attention. Again, I didn't.

[If you haven't read or don't remember the "F**k You!" post linked above, go read it now. And while you're at it, visit this one, too: http://thesilkentouch.blogspot.com/2008/03/1734-i-dont-understand-people.html - insight into how she operates.]

So, it's been bothering me. I know her. I know what she's like, and I know she has some emotional problems. I don't resent her for the incident at the gathering, I hold no resentment. I consider myself a forgiving person, easy to get along with.

So why didn't I give in and give her what she wanted, reach out to her, be the bigger person? That question has been bothering me ever since that evening. I know I hurt her feelings by not making the move. It bothers me that I hurt her feelings, knowing full well that's what I was doing.

So I've been thinking about it.

I didn't make the first move because she expected it.

She assigned that role to me.

And that was the basic problem back when I tried to be friends with her.

She's certifiably nuts, on a variety of medications the dosages of which she messes around with resulting in some strange effects, but that's part of what makes her an interesting person. She's bohemian. I'm easy to get along with. I know that once I figure out what a person is like, what weird things they might be or do, I can decide whether I can accept and/or work around that, or not. I don't mind a little crazy. Once I know there's mood swings, I can work around them, let them roll off. I'm easy. I try to understand, not judge or condemn.

And it wasn't her craziness that drove me away, that necessitated my telling her that I refuse to put myself in her path any more, that she was poisoning me. (The Man refers to her as my "Psycho Ex-Girlfriend". Read that post, too. It's funny.)

It wasn't craziness that drove me away. It wasn't all the times she used me. It wasn't all the times she was very verbally nasty.

It was her expectations of me.

Instead of getting to know me, learning what I am like, what is natural to me, how I relate, how I respond, instead of accepting me for what and how I am, she decided that I should be a certain way, should do certain things and react in certain ways. And when I didn't, she castigated me in exceedingly harsh terms.

I hate the telephone. But she expected me to call her a minimum of once a week. If I didn't, she would finally call me and pour a load of vitriol on me for not caring about her or her problems. Note that I was to call her. Her calling me was apparently a breech of protocol, for which I was to be punished.

She expected me to listen for hours at a time to her problems with her boyfriend - a married man with several small children who would turn up at her house once a month, roll around in her bed with her for an hour, and then go home for dinner. I know she was unreasonably in love with him, and I really didn't want to hear about him and how uncaring he was, but I let her talk because she needed to - I'd give her the "uh huh, uh huh, wow, that's sad" - but I didn't sympathize enough, and that pissed her off, and she'd tear me a new one because I didn't say the right things, didn't give her the advice she wanted and expected.

There was so much like that. So many expectations that I didn't meet, and she'd get nasty every time I "failed her".

Sheesh. I don't feel I failed anyone. I am what I am, I am who I am, and a lot of people find that to be good enough, including me!

And that's why I had to cut her off three years ago, and that's why I didn't make the first move, or any move, at the dinner. Precisely because she acted like it was expected of me.

I'm not giving anyone anything just because they expect it of me. If she'd bothered to learn anything about me back when, she'd have known that.

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This isn't just me. You can't define how other people should relate or react. Other people are what they are, and you are free to accept or reject them. But you should never expect anything, or you're guaranteed disappointment. I couldn't get along with FW because she decided I should be a certain way, even if she had to push and shove and punish me into being that way. It took me a long time to find myself, and she, in making me feel inadequate, was destroying the me that it took so long to find.

By feeling that I had done something wrong at the dinner, by fussing over it, I demonstrated again the power she has to make me doubt myself. I'm glad now that I didn't give her the satisfaction.
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2803 Buck you, Fuddy.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Polls reveal attitudes; they do not predict behavior.
Just because a poll says 50% of the polled will resign their job if X occurs
doesn‘t mean that anyone will actually resign when X occurs.
We forget that attitude and behavior are, for obvious reasons, different.

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I debated whether to write about this.

If you are local to me, if you know me, and if I don't already know you read this blog, and if you suspect I may not be too happy with your reading it, hit that X up there right now. Otherwise, I cannot and will not be responsible for your reaction. You have been warned.

When I got home from the weekend, I found that sometime Monday evening someone locally had checked out the blog. This is my "diary". I don't like people who know me reading it. There's only one local reader that I know for sure about, and she's ok because she's one of the most reasonable people I know, and we tend to have pretty much the same attitude toward everything, so I don't worry about her misinterpreting me. Plus, our circles don't overlap, so there's no opportunity for gossip.

But I am carefully hidden from everyone else. I don't need the gossip, the whispered "and then she said", the misunderstandings and subsequent fireworks. This is my diary. As I get older, I find I do refer to past entries occasionally, to straighten out memories. I need to be free to comment on anything important to me.

This incident is important to me.

Sunday morning at the gathering, I walked into the hospitality room, and saw several of the local Mensans sitting at a table. There was an empty chair in the middle of the group. (I was amused because that was the very table and the exact place I'd sat the first time I saw The Man three years ago, across the table, and was fascinated by the play of thoughts across his face.)

Anyhoo, I sat down. I was sitting there several minutes. I am certain it was more than 5 minutes. It could have been as long as 15. I ate a piece of bagel, and drank some iced tea. Then FW came into the room, stormed up to me, and said, "That's my seat. Get out of my seat. Move!"

I said, "It's not your seat. You left it. Seats aren't saved. There's plenty of seats. Pull another up."

She said, "It's MY SEAT! Move! I didn't leave anything on the seat to save it because I didn't know I had to! F**k you!" Her voice went up in pitch and volume. The other people at the table told her to take another chair. Note that it was an eight-person round table, and four of the chairs were unoccupied. Now, I know this woman. I know how she can be. I could have avoided what happened next by simply getting up and moving, but I have a stubborn streak, and that "F**k you" got to me.

I did not get out of the chair. I reached behind me and pulled up a chair from another table, and put it next to me. She sat in it. But it wasn't over. She seemed to get stuck on the "F**k you", and she shouted it in my face, over and over and over, "F**k you! F**k you! F**k you!", over and over, louder and higher, until she was screeching it. There were maybe 30 other people in the room, and the room went silent. Everyone stared.

I did not react at all. I didn't even hold back a reaction. There was nothing at all. I surprised myself at how cool I was. My hands didn't shake. The group photo was taken only moments after the screeching ended, and see how relaxed I am?
I used to be afraid of her, afraid to set her off. Her attacks used to scare me and leave me trembling and unsure of myself for days. I had to stop associating with her because she was poisoning me.

I think that's over. I don't think she will ever upset me again, and I don't think I will ever again worry about setting her off. It's done. I don't care anymore. I don't even care if she reads this, because it's true, and a lot of other people who DO know her witnessed it.

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

On reflection, I think I know what happened. She has apparently gone off on others, one way or another. She had ridden down to the gathering with the guy on the right in the photo, and was rooming with the Hawaiian woman on the left (without contributing to the cost of the room, BTW). The arrangements had been made before they'd had much social exposure to her, and now neither of them were too happy about spending time with her. The woman had even found another room to sleep in. I think perhaps FW noticed she was being shunned.

That morning, she was happy to be sitting in the middle of the group at the table. She likes to be the center of attention. She left to get food or whatever, came back, and found that I had taken her place in the middle. She would be left on the outskirts again. And it was all my fault. I was The Usurper.

She freaked.

Her problem, not mine, and that finally sank in for me. I think it's that other people have also commented on her instability and tendency to viciously attack anyone who in any way offends her, and how she sees offense everywhere. Others have mentioned not wanting to be in the line of attack, and since you never see it coming, it's better to just avoid her. So it's not just me. That helps.

(A small detail - I had purchased two tickets for the banquet the night before, in case The Man or Daughter could attend. Neither was able. The banquet was sold out, and FW had no ticket. I gave her my extra ticket, and did not request payment. Neither did she offer. So much for gratitude.)

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

Same woman, different topic. She's on social security disability. She works when she can find a job, but can earn only a little, or she'll lose the disability checks. She's intelligent and capable. She's the head of the local Mensa chapter, and she runs the group well. Yeah, ok, she's got "a diagnosis", and takes a variety of meds, but she's not disabled. She's perfectly abled. What the heck?

I was annoyed at first. I saw it as sucking on the government teat, the rest of us paying for her laziness. Now I know better. Yes, she can work, and she can be very productive. She can contribute. She is not lazy. She has a lot of good skills to offer. But the problem is that she can't hold any one job for very long before she gets pissed off at someone else on the job and blasts them. And she's always pissed at everyone else in the office, usually because they don't do things they way she thinks they should be done. She gets fired from jobs because no one wants that poison at the next desk.

Roman and I were talking one day, and we agreed that her current job might be the best for her. It might even last a while. You know those women at the end of the grocery aisle with the free samples? She shows up, sets up, microwaves samples, offers them, cleans up, and leaves. She rarely sees the boss. She doesn't have daily exposure to anyone. Brief encounters.
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1752 Psycho Ex-Girlfriend

Thursday, April 3, 2008

I have to tell this story backward.

At dinner with my man on Monday, he told me a story. The following may not be his exact words, but it's close enough.

He said there was this woman that he'd been friends with. Not a romantic or sexual thing, just friends, they enjoyed each other's company. Over the past year or year and a half, they'd gone out clubbing together, to dances, and to parties, and sometimes just the two of them for drinks or dinner, or a bad movie. But it was not dating. He often paid, but that didn't make it a date, just an acknowledgement of a difference in disposable income.

[I had a flash of jealousy. I thought, "Why have you never mentioned her before? Hey, if you wanted to go out to all these parties or whatever, why not call me?" I was hurt.]

He went on: "And then in, oh, about last October, we took an extended weekend trip together. [He and I were really heating up then, imagine my shock hearing this!] We didn't share a room at the hotel, although I paid for her room. I got the distinct impression she was taking advantage of me. She seemed to take a lot for granted. She demanded my undivided attention, without feeling a need to return it."

[At this point I relaxed. I recognized the story, and was impressed that without seeming to listen, he had really heard and understood some bits and pieces of things I'd said a few months ago.]

"After that, things went downhill. She acted like the relationship was much more than it actually was. She got very demanding. She tried to tell me how she thought I should act. She got jealous of my relationships with others. It was getting weird, and I decided to cut it off. Along about November I told her I couldn't spend time with her any more. Done. Over .

Fortunately or unfortunately, we are both involved in certain activities, so I can't avoid her, but we are civil, even friendly, when we do meet. Things were fine for the past four months.

And then, yesterday, we were at a meeting, which happened to be held at her home, and she suggested that we get together after the meeting and 'catch up' on what's been going on. I didn't see anything wrong with that, but I didn't want to be alone with her in her home, so I suggested that I treat her to dinner.

Imagine my shock when, toward the end of the meal, she looked up at me beaming, and said,
'Oh, I'm so happy we're getting back together!'

That's the Psycho Ex-Girlfriend Syndrome! She thinks we were 'just on a four-month break'"!

He looked at me and said, resignedly, "What can I do? There's only one cure. I have to sleep with her. I have to sleep with her, and make it so bad she won't want me any more."

By this time I was cracking up.

I said I was telling this story backward. The above happened later in the evening. Earlier in the evening, I had told him that I'd had dinner with the female friend I'd had so much trouble with last year. The woman I had finally told in November that I couldn't be around her anymore, I was tired of her mistreating me, and I couldn't put myself in her line of fire any more. I said that she'd said the scariest thing I'd heard in a year. During dinner she looked at me and beamed, and said, "I'm so happy we're renewing our friendship!"

I said that I about fell off my chair and I didn't know what to say. The very idea that she thinks that scares me.

He choked on his drink, roared with laughter, and said, "You've got a psycho ex-girlfriend! You know what you have to do now, don't you?"

Blank look from me.

"You have to sleep with her! It's the only way!"

And then later, he told that story. It was the story of me and this woman. I was impressed. There aren't too many men who could show that degree of awareness and understanding of a bad interpersonal relationship in which they have no interest.

...Although I don't necessarily agree with his solution.
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1734 I Don't Understand People

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

I'm going to write about a friend here. I said I wasn't going to do that any more, but this thing has me reeling. I don't understand her logic. I don't understand why she is reacting the way she is, and I don't care if this gets back to her somehow, because maybe then she'll understand why I had to pull away from her a few months ago, and am resisting getting involved with her again.

Background facts: She's on disability, and works part time jobs, which means money is always an issue. About a year ago she almost lost her house because she was without housemate and couldn't make the mortgage payments. She rents the second bedroom, sharing the kitchen and bathroom, and has had some miserable tenants over the past few years.

Last spring, George, a newly-divorced construction worker, moved in, saving her from foreclosure, and George has proven to be an asset. He volunteers handyman work on the house, is quiet and sober, is a gourmet cook, often treating her to dinners, and always pays the rent on time. He's a nice and accommodating guy, and she needs the rent money. He even arranges to be out of the house when her boyfriend visits, without complaint. Perfection, right?

Over the past few weeks, an odor has appeared and grown, emanating from his bedroom, and spreading to her bedroom. She says he doesn't smell it, and isn't bothered by it, but it bothers her so much she has been sleeping on the couch downstairs. She said it smells "sort of like old gym socks". She accused him of being unclean, and freaked when she discovered that his comforter hadn't been laundered since he'd moved in. She took it to a commercial washer and washed it herself, but the odor didn't go away. In fact, it got worse.

She has been after George to figure it out and fix it. I know her well enough to feel sorry for George. She says that he is now avoiding her, and refuses to discuss the problem further. They have stopped speaking. She's furious about having to sleep on the couch because she can't stand the odor upstairs.

I suggested that it may not be George. It's an old house, and she's had some serious roof gutter problems. Perhaps melting ice had gotten into the walls and it was mold. From her description of the odor, it sounded to me like mold.

So, I got a call from her last night. She went into George's room after our last discussion, lifted the rug in one corner, and found mold, on the floor and on the underside of the carpet. She thinks George had left a pile of wet towels there. (I am not convinced it was George's fault - it could still be coming from the wall, but I didn't say anything.) She found some stuff in the hardware store to fix mold problems. She thinks she can get rid of the mold and the odor.

However, here's the part that has my head spinning. She is going to kick George out, give him his two month's notice, on Easter Sunday.

I asked why, and she said because she can't continue sleeping on the couch any longer. I asked why not just clean George's room, and let him stay. "You're between jobs, you need the rent, he's been a great housemate, it's not like he did anything on purpose, if it was towels, he'll never do that again, and if it turns out to be a problem in the wall and you can't get rid of the odor, you'll have great difficulty renting the room to anyone else, and the odor doesn't bother him, so why throw him out?"

Her answer, "Because I can't sleep on the couch any longer."

????

There's some kind of logical disconnect there.

I pointed out that to get her back into her bedroom, she'll have to treat his room. She says she can't do that while he's living there.
"Why not?"
"Because everything he owns is in that room. He's got so much stuff."
"Why can't you just move his stuff out into the hall or whatever?"
"There's too much. He has to be out."
"But if you wait until he's out, and he'll be there for two more months, you'll be on the couch for two more months, at least. And then there's no assurance that you'll be able to re-rent the room, depending on whether the treatment works. If you move his stuff out temporarily and treat the room, you'll be better off."
Her response? "He has to get out. I can't sleep on the couch any longer."

I do not understand. I just don't get it.

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

Maybe her paranoia is rubbing off on me. I told her last December that I didn't want to "be pals" with her any more because I was tired of her going off on me and mistreating me, and taking advantage of me. I told her I was not going to put myself in her line of fire any more. And so far, I've stuck with that. We are pleasant when we meet, and that's it.

Now, she KNOWS if she kicks George out, she's going to have big financial problems.

She also knows I have money.

Last Sunday, at Green Eggs and Ham, she mentioned to me that as she's job hunting with little success, she's currently living on her tiny savings. She's three years younger than I, and has no family. Her house is her retirement plan.

I have a feeling that in a month or two, I'm going to have to be very strong. Yes, I do donate to charities, and I can be very generous with my friends, but if she insists on digging this hole on purpose, I have to let her fall in it, even if she loses her house. It's her fate, and her lesson to learn.
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1467 Since Thursday...

Sunday, September 9, 2007

Thursday I went to NJ. The 2.5 hour trip took 5.0 hours because of an accident on (the OTHER side of) the Garden State Parkway.

Explored the kids' new house. It's very small, but it's in a pleasant neighborhood, I think.

Then I went to meet a friend for the evening. Daughter gave me directions and a map, and the 40 minute trip took me 75 minutes, because I had to keep pulling over to consult the map, kept missing turns, and most of the turns where that happened you have to go quite a distance to find a "jughandle" to make a U-turn, so I was very late meeting him. Central NJ is one of those places where it really is true that "you can't get there from here". But it worked out ok, and we had some good talking time together. Which we needed.

Friday I went back to the kids' new house and spent the day spackling and sanding walls, and the evening helping pack. The moving truck was to come Saturday morning.

The drive home was uneventful. I don't remember what time I got home, but I didn't get to bed until after 4 am Saturday. I got up about noon, handled some business, and then the power went out about 6 pm (storm with very bad very close lightning). That also means no water, and no house phone.

Lit some candles, read some magazines, called Daughter (cell) - move went well, bed was set up and made and they were going to sleep in the new house, but they couldn't find their pillows. My power came back on at about midnight. I had some research I had been doing on the internet, so I got back to that, and didn't get to bed until, again, 4 am-ish.

A friend and I planned to hike around the lake at Mohonk Mountain House (do go look at these pictures, too), so I was up at 7:30 am Sunday. The hike around the lake was nice. I've been there many times before, but on the Overcliff/Undercliff/Tower trails. The lake trail was new to me. It was short. So then we got feisty and decided to walk the 1.5 miles back to the day-hike parking area instead of taking the shuttle. Piece of cake, right?

Well, the trails were marked with "to 'name'" signs, but badly marked. Hell, half the trails led to 'name' one way or another! We had a map, but at an intersection, there was no way to tell exactly where you were on the map, which intersection, which made the map useless. I was confident that we'd eventually find the parking lot, because when we left the hotel grounds the shuttle road was to our right and to the left was a steep dropoff to the valley below (the hotel is on a ridge, as you can see from the photos. The mountain drops off behind the hotel). So as long as we didn't cross the shuttle road or fall off a cliff, we'd be heading the right direction. But my companion panicked. I think if she'd been able to tell them accurately where she was, she'd have called 911.

When we finally came out on the highway, she insisted that we had to turn to the left and go down the (steep!) road to get to the parking lot. I knew that the parking lot was on the ridge at the top of the mountain, to our right, up the road, but she was so freaked at that point I knew there was no point arguing. So I just followed her, and hoped she'd reconsider or figure it out on her own. She didn't. We went down about a half mile of "trucks use first gear" road, when I flagged down a pickup truck and asked the driver "Parking lot that way, right? (pointing up.)" He confirmed, I called to my companion (who wasn't interested in anything I had to say at that point), and we turned around and started up again. She started sticking her thumb out, and (wow) the fifth car or so stopped and picked her up. I chose to walk. Those last fifteen pounds, dontcha know....

When I got to the parking lot, she was nowhere to be seen. I called her cell and left a message that I hoped she got home ok, and I went home. Did some grocery shopping on the way home, and arrived to find a message from her that she had complained to the gate staff and customer service people about their maps and signs, and they had refunded her money.

As a member, she had paid $2 for the day. I had paid $21. It had never occurred to me to complain. I still wouldn't. They've been using those same maps for thirty years that I know of, and they haven't lost any guests yet. We just didn't use the map properly, didn't keep track of where we were, didn't really think about it. She had the map in her pack and had spent more time waving it around and complaining than looking at it.

Well, except for the minor hysterics, **I** enjoyed the day.
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1339 Weekend Plans

Saturday, June 30, 2007

FW just called to ask if I'd be going to NJKC's Moonlight party tonight. Yeah. Except for when Jay was sickest, and when I was incommunicado for a few years after he died, I've gone to every one for the past 21 years. (Wow! Has it really been that long?)

NJKC picks a summer weekend with a full moon, and we're supposed to sit on blankets on the mansion's lawn sloping down to the river, drink champagne, and watch the moon rise over the Hudson. It's beautiful, except that mostly no one actually goes outside. Usually everyone is inside, somebody looks out a window and says "Moon's coming up." Half the group glances out a window and says"Nice", and that's it.

Buncha deadheads.

Well, NJKC and May and a few others smoke inside, and I'm trying really hard to quit, so by darn this year I AM going to be out on a blanket! Roman and FW plan to attend for the first time in forever, so they will be outside, too, and Angie and Andi, if they're there, so I won't be alone this time. FW plans to bring "other stuff to smoke", and I can't be too near that, and I suspect it might feak out some others, so it may take some diplomacy. Or an upwind seat.

I'd like to go to the jazz festival and fireworks tomorrow. If I can find someone this evening who will go with me, maybe I will. Maybe I won't. The fireworks off the bridge are spectacular, but I noticed that they have a huge flag hanging from the bridge this year. I can't imagine they'd risk setting fire to it, so maybe the bridge won't be used this year. Ho hum. Having trouble caring, actually.
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1315 Lunch and Small TTT

Thursday, June 21, 2007

FirstWoman and I had an almost three-hour lunch today. I went out the door at 10:30 am, found a flat tire on the minivan, used the compressor to pump it up again, went to the post office to mail the estimated taxes and got behind several people applying for passports, and finally made it to the Newburgh riverfront at 12:15, only 15 minutes late. It normally takes an hour anyway, so that was pretty good.

It was a beautiful afternoon. The restaurant was crowded, so we didn't get to sit out on the patio until halfway through dinner, but eventually we did.

I got home at 4:15, and would have to leave the house again at 5:15 for the 6:30 Third Thursday Mensa dinner in Poughkeepsie. Four people had RSVP'd, so Roman and I waited in the lobby for 20 minutes, but no one else showed up. The rushing clouds, whipping wind, falling tree branches, and occasional rain drops may have had something to do with it.... Neither of us were very hungry, both having eaten not-so-much earlier, a distinct disadvantage in an all-you-can eat buffet restaurant. I ate mostly fruit, vegetables, and shrimp, and I rediscovered Jello. I like red Jello! I'd forgotten.

We talked a lot. I got home after 9:30.

Wow. The whole entire day shot on two meals with two people. Both enjoyable, though. Back to the to-do list tomorrow.

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

When it's windy/stormy out, my roof antenna (I don't have cable) picks up an unknown channel at 21. Actually, I think it's a montage of several channels. Changes with the clouds, I guess. I got 45 minutes of "Wonder Years" this evening, and then it suddenly changed to "Shop at Home".

I loved "Wonder Years"! I'd forgotten about that, too. Jello and "Wonder Years". All in one day. Neat.
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1270 Goodness gracious great balls of fire

Monday, May 28, 2007

I left NJ at 12:30 pm, heading north and home.

At 1:45 I was on the NY Thruway, just south of the Sloatsburg/Suffern rest area, when traffic, which had been moving along nicely, skidded to a stop.

I figured there had to be an accident ahead or something, when suddenly there were flames shooting up, about five or six car lengths ahead of me, and huge billows of dense black smoke. A tractor-trailer had hit a minivan, and both of them were engulfed in flames. I mean burning hard and fast! I don't know what the trailer's load was, but every minute or so there was an explosion.

Emergency vehicles started arriving within minutes. Eventually there were three fire trucks (engines!), two heavy rescue trucks, one ambulance, a dozen or two police cars, and a passel of blue-blinker cars. (I was interested to see the firefighters putting on their turnout gear AFTER they arrived. We were required to have it on before leaving the firehouse (well, at least the boots and pants).)

Gawkers also arrived within minutes. People from way behind me were leaving their cars and walking forward, and being chased back by the police. Me, I was fussing because I wanted to get AWAY, not closer. Who knows what was in that smoke. Who knows what was going to explode next. I don't need poison gases or shrapnel.

They put the fire out pretty quickly - well, they turned the smoke from black to gray to white fairly quickly, and eventually the fire was out. I figured we'd be sitting there for hours, but they let us by after removing the minivan, only one hour and 25 minutes of sitting. I snapped some pictures, but they're not digital, so it'll be a while.

When I passed the tractor-trailer, there was nothing but framework left on all but one side. It must have been a really hot fire to do that so quickly. The tires had burned/melted into the pavement, and the trailer was listing.

That ONE ambulance worried me. With a more-than-fenders motor vehicle accident, even if the people involved are walking around insisting they're fine, the rule is to arrive in force, check them out, slap a collar on them, strap them down, and deliver them to an emergency room, ASAP. Resistance is futile. (Well, you can sign a form that releases the rescue crew from liability, but they won't tell you about it unless you kick and scream.) Only one ambulance arrived, for two vehicles, and it didn't leave for a long time. That doesn't sound good.

I hope there's something on the news tonight about it.

The ramp for the rest area was only a few hundred feet past the accident, so when they let us go, I decided to stop and get something to drink. But as I turned into the ramp, I realized that there's 50 miles of bumper-to-bumper pissed off traffic behind me, and SIX CARS ahead of me!

Ack!

I zoomed through the rest area and back onto the road, and hit the gas. I had an open road ahead of me, and I was going to take advantage of it!

On the OTHER side of the road, people had actually stopped on the sides and got out of their cars to watch the fire. So with them, and the usual slow downs, south-bound traffic was at a standstill. Just for fun, I set the trip odometer. It was 15 miles of stopped, and 11 more miles of slowed cars. Can't imagine what it must have been like behind me.

While watching the fire, I had called The Man (went straight to voice mail) and then called FirstWoman and talked with her a bit. Her home was on the way, so she invited me to stop in and trade weekend news, so I did.

Got home about 6 pm.

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

Well, the news is on. The big story is a boating collision on the Hudson near Catskill. A woman was injured. Then the newsreader swung into blather about Memorial Day barbecues. With no irony.

I guess Suffern is too far south to interest Albany. Or there's no video, and therefore it's not news.
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1229 The Three Mensaketeers

Walking:




I'm never happy with photos of me. "They" say that you should thrust your head forward at the camera, to thin your face and make your neck look longer and smoother. Point a camera at me, and I pull my head back and tuck my chin. Bleck.
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1221 Cards

Saturday, April 28, 2007

Angie, FirstWoman, Roman, and I went on a walk today, from under the Newburgh-Beacon bridge to the Balmville Tree and back. Then we went to Easy Street on the Newburgh waterfront for drinks and munchies (I had a very strong Bloody Mary and crab cakes), then to FW's to play cards.

Angie and FirstWoman partnered, and Roman and I - which didn't make a lot of sense, actually, because we were playing Spades, which both women were very familiar with, whereas it was relatively new to Roman and me. But I had promised FW that she wouldn't have to partner with him (Roman sometimes rubs her the wrong way), so I was the one who suggested the pairing.

They stomped us most of the way through. At one point they had like 300+ points and Roman and I were negative. But by the last couple hands, we got better (and they got reckless), and we ended in a tie. We figured that was a good way to end.

We've decided Mensa should have a monthly cards night. There's a group who regularly show up for a games night, but not cards.

We had a good time. I was in high spirits and came off with several of my famous completely unintended! double entendres, and Angie didn't let them pass. Mensans are quick.

Roman and I had only a tiny bit of time to talk. He's aware I'm into what may be a new relationship, and he's very curious. I didn't tell him much, only that I'm having fun ("I'm being courted, big time, and I like it"), and I'm going to follow it to the end, however long or short it is. I asked him howcome he's "out" on a weekend, and does she know he's with me. He said they agreed they needed some time off, and no, she doesn't know where he is. Good, because this may be a temporary break, and there's no need to annoy her even more.

I had a very nice conversation with Daughter this evening. She woke up in an all-day foul mood Thursday, and it took me until yesterday to figure out that a good portion of it had to do with my being with The Man Wednesday and Thursday. She can be very suspicious about men where her mother is concerned. But I guess I calmed her fears Thursday evening, and now she's even positive about him.

Tomorrow - draft horses.
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1203 FirstWoman's Evening

Wednesday, April 12, 2007

It's well into Thursday by now, the post date will say so, but this entry is about Wednesday. Deal with it.

I spent the morning sleeping, early afternoon got lost, late afternoon on paperwork, and evening at an "information session" ("panel" doesn't fit, neither does "lecture" or any other word...) on the Israeli/Palestinian conflict, organized by FirstWoman. It was interesting, and gave me something to think about. But it was also a bit one-sided. When you accuse someone of doing something that's not a good thing, it's obligatory to also attempt to understand WHY they do that thing. So the information was appreciated (but I already knew a lot of what the American media doesn't tell us because I read blogs and mid-eastern newspaper articles), but I'm not yet ready to venture an opinion.

I sat next to Roman, and he's the person I would most like to discuss it with, but not then, not yet, and with him, the moment passes quickly.

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TV commercial for a golf course: "... and it's only minutes from many locations in Albany county."

Duh? That statement is still bonging in my head, for about six different reasons.

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The Microsoft service website says that Firefox has problems on Vista, and can cause Vista problems I guess, so that explains the strange lack of formatting I noted a few entries back. It goes on to say that Firefox has a fix. So I'll have to check on that tomorrow.

I'm also getting the error message that Sonic Something-or-other is causing compatibility problems, and the Microsoft service site has a fix, but it says that the application has to be removed prior to applying the fix. Great. I haven't the faintest idea how to remove something I can't find in any searches. Time to read some more of the "Vista for Dummies" book.

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I want to go to the museum tomorrow. I'm sure there's a backlog of memberships to process. We'll see if I get there.

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The Man is going south for the weekend, and said he wanted to talk to me this evening, "before he left", and was disappointed that I'd be out. I told him I'd call him, but when I did, after I got home, it went to voicemail. Fooey.

1117 More from Sunday

Monday, February 12, 2007

Yeah, even day, bad girl, but I spent so much time futzing around looking for a watch last night I didn't finish my thoughts. So now you know why I'm having such a hard time quitting smoking. I am weak.

Today is the first day in weeks that it got above freezing. I hadn't cleared that two inches of snow we got back when, hoping it would disappear on its own. It did eventually go away from the lower part of the drive, the part that gets full sun much of the day, but it stayed on the upper half, and especially in the wedge between the house and garage, where there's no sun at all.

Yesterday I noticed that the upper drive was clear, and even in the wedge the snow was mostly gone. I wondered how that happened. I think I know - it evaporated! We've had some very strong wind. The snow was too packed to blow away (esp. where I'd driven over it), and that's the only explanation - a dry wind slurped it up. The surface of the remaining snow is dimpled, just like sand on a windy beach.

Our first real snowstorm is predicted for Wednesday night. I haven't attempted to start the snowthrower yet this winter. I guess I should do that tomorrow. I'll park the Aerio at the bottom of the drive Wednesday so I won't be trapped, whatever happens.

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A few posts back I mentioned that FirstWoman was hosting a screening at her home on Sunday, and I said that it is "not a genre I am not familiar with". Too many nots. That was supposed to say I'm not familiar with it.

When I think Japanese anime, I think of Saturday morning children's cartoons, waifs with huge round eyes with wedges for pupils, all of which I find very annoying, and I can't get past the representation to appreciate the story. A certain "look" I don't like.

FW showed Grave of the Fireflies. ("Named Best Animated Feature at the 1994 Chicago International Children’s Film Festival, this film explores the plight of two orphans in post-WWII Japan. Most know of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, few of the allied firebombing of Japanese cities. A poignant and powerful antiwar statement." - from FW's invitation.)

I was late and missed the first half or so, but that's ok. Given the treatment of the children's plight that I did see, the firebombing may have been too much for me.

It was very beautiful, very artistic. Very effective use of light and dark. I noticed that the sky often reflected the emotions of the action. There's a lot of symbolism, not the kind of thing you can watch just once, and "get". For example, at a key point, the fireflies the children had caught the night before have died (they don't live long). The little girl buries them, which reminds her brother of the mass graves after the fires. The scene pulls back into the interior of their cave shelter, where we see two remaining fireflies. They flit in the light, one above the other, the higher one leading, the other following playfully. They move deeper into the cave, into deeper and deeper darkness, until in the deepest darkness, their lights die out. They didn't die, they were still flying, but their lights went out.

An omen.

I probably will not develop the intensity of FW's interest in anime, I think I'll still prefer live action, or even the book of the story, but I do want to see more.

The others there commented that it's quite different from American animation, in both the style and the course of the story, particularly the ending.

Yeah. My opinion is that American animation started downhill with Roger Rabbit, when people thought that it was so important to impart visual depth to the characters. In typical American fashion, we get visual depth but no emotional depth. (I prefer claymation, anyway. Love Gizmo.) American filmmakers seem to think that a story has to have a happy ending. They want to send people out of the theater in an "up" mood. We get a kiss on the cheek with no truth or honesty, no attention to the integrity of the story.

Oh, well, that's my movie review for this year, I guess.
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