Friday, April 21, 2006
Well, well. No entry yesterday again. Maybe Mother IS losing it!
After Wednesday's entry, things got complicated. Roman was supposed to meet with Piper Wednesday afternoon, after which Roman and I would have dinner and a movie or something. Roman called during his lunch break to finalize, and I noticed that there was a message on my machine (I had been working in the basement and must have missed a call.) So after Roman hung up, I checked the message, and it was Piper - he had a plumbing problem at home, and wouldn't be able to meet with Roman, but was unable to contact him to cancel. I didn't have Roman's work number either. There ensued a few rounds of three-way phone tag, plus a trip into the village to put a note on Piper's office door, telling Roman to just come here when he arrived.
That ate up the afternoon. When I was finally able to catch Roman at his home, I asked if he still wanted to come to see me, and he said "Yes", which was nice, but then he added "I know the consequences if I don't." Which set the tone for the evening. Which was not good. Civil, but uncomfortable. And rather negative.
Then came Thursday.
I had listed 6 large bags of plastic packing peanuts late Wednesday on that Ecycle website I mentioned, and within seconds, a woman in Poughkeepsie had claimed them. I awoke yesterday to 20+ emails from other people wanting them. I started responding to the emails that they were gone, when it occurred to me that I should make sure this woman was going to take all of them before I discarded these offers, so I called her. I had offered in the ad to deliver, so she asked me to bring them to Pok at 3 that afternoon.
I screwed up.
Somehow, I had it stuck in my mind that "today" was Wednesday, not Thursday. I don't know why, but I've been doing that a lot lately. I was supposed to have lunch with Piper on Thursday, but, thinking it was Wednesday, I accidentally stood him up.
I didn't shower before leaving the house, and I was wearing "second-wearing" clothes, because I wanted to go to the exercise machines on the way to deliver the peanuts. Which I did. I worked the machines from 1 'til 2, and delivered the peanuts to Spackenkill Road at 3. The woman had a lip at the end of her driveway, and when I pulled in, and again when I pulled out, I scraped bottom badly (that low clearance on the van). Which sometimes isn't serious, but I got partway up Spackenkill, heading out on the almost-an-hour drive home, when a) the guy on the radio mention that today was Thursday (WHAT!!??), and b) the "check engine" light went on.
I had committed to go to the Third Thursday dinner, because Roman had to work that night, and he had given me the coupons. It's now about 3:30. I'd get home at 4:30ish, and have to leave at 5:15ish to come back to Pok for the dinner, and that's a lot of driving on a questionable van. I don't know what I may have torn loose. I couldn't like hang out at the mall and then go to dinner, because I stank, and I had no makeup on. I could either get the van looked at, or get me cleaned up, but not both. It was all suddenly too much for me to handle. I was ready to cry. I called Roman, who lives only about 10 minutes from where I was.
He was wonderful. We looked under the van. The only thing we saw was that it's dripping transmission fluid again. Everything else looked ok. He said it was probably ok to drive, but I should get it checked. And I could shower at his place and just chill until time to go to the dinner. I have an overnight case there, so it worked out. (He said my clothes didn't smell. Thank goodness I wear loose stuff.)
There were only three of us at the dinner. Tom and I were the first to arrive, and we decided that if no one else showed up, we'd cut out and go to Gentleman Jim's for dinner instead, and then we could play trivia after. But then another woman showed up, and she had no interest in Gentleman Jim's.
This woman happens to be Roman's financial advisor. And I am beginning to think ALL money management people are ditzy. We were looking at the placemats, and I remarked that I was born in the year of the monkey, and Tom said something about astrology, and she asked him what his birthdate was, and he told her, and said, "You know, that's the second time you've asked me that. We had this same conversation last time I saw you." She didn't remember, but she almost immediately turned to me and asked if I was married (this woman is famous for non sequiturs). I said "No, why do you ask", and she replied that that's why she didn't want to go to GJ's, because she wanted to get home to her husband.
I started laughing, and said "You've also asked me that before." The last time I had seen her, she had turned to Roman and me, and had said "My husband wants to know if you two are married." That was back when Roman was courting me big time, and it was obvious to everyone at the table that something big was going on. And I remember it especially because she, as his financial advisor, should have known his marital status, so it struck me as odd. Her response was "Oh, no. I would NEVER have asked if you and [Roman] were married, because I know [Roman] has a girlfriend, [so-and-so]. I know her because her ex-husband goes to my church. If I asked, it was just a joke."
I had a flash of anger. I said "Yes, but it wasn't a joke. Sorry, but I'm feeling a bit bitter right now. I wish you had told me about her then." She said "Oh, you do know about her?" (When you think about what she'd just said, that's a really dumb question....) I said "Yes, now I do, but I didn't know soon enough. He misled me." She asked "Does she know about you?", and I said "No, and that's so unfair, because now that I know, I got mean, and she's not, she's all sweetness and light, and he's comparing us, and that's so unfair." She sympathized. Then she said "Someone should tell her. She should know!" and she looked like she was the one to do it, and I suddenly realized that I had forgotten that this was a total ditz I was talking to. She's about the fourth person to tell me that Roman has a girlfriend, but she's the first to scare me.
I had gone too far. I asked her and Tom to please not say anything to anyone - but - she's a ditz. Sometimes I guess I am, too. My only consolation is that she has no contact with the woman, so her blathering to her is unlikely. Her blathering to or scolding Roman is a distinct possibility, however. On the other hand, she SAW us together at that dinner. She KNEW THEN that Roman and I were "involved". He walked up to me and kissed me right in front of her once. So this shouldn't be news to her. What the hell was in her mind then? What was in her mind last night, when she informed me Roman had a girlfriend named xxx? Mensa considered Roman and me a couple, so her announcing at a Mensa function that he had a girlfriend (by name, even) was very embarrassing to me. The woman is a ditz.
I am stupid. I am sick. I am a spurned woman. I am human. I know that if xxx did find out about me, and if Roman thought I was in any way responsible for her finding out, it would destroy the last shreds of our already-tattered friendship, and I don't want to lose that. Even if she throws him out (and I doubt that she cares for him enough to get angry, certainly not enough to throw out her 'faithful' servant, he's just too useful) if he thought I was responsible he wouldn't turn to me, so there's no advantage to me.
No matter what else stops, I never want to stop seeing his smile.
So, anyway, after dinner I went to trivia with Tom. He asked me if I'd like to go next Thursday, too. I said yes. There's a Mensa group in NYC who are always near the top of the national ranking, and we're considering a trip to the city to meet them and see them in action some summer Thursday. Tom is the subject of a lot of gossip in the local group, because he's been married like five times, and he's a bit of a hound. He's about 12 years younger than I, in love with a woman who shares his interest in hiking, and I don't get "hound" vibes from him at all, which is refreshing. We're trivia buddies, and I like him. He's fun.
So, today, bright and early, I took the van to my favorite garage. Unfortunately, it's also everybody else's favorite, too. The owner told me I could bring it in on Monday, but I have a volunteer meeting on Monday that I can't reschedule. The next available time is 8 am, Friday of next week, so I agreed to that. Not good.
Then I stopped by Piper's office because I just got a notice from the state that they were fining me $50 because my last business sales tax return was late. The Angel did mail the forms, but I don't know when. Neither Piper nor The Angel were there, but Vinnie was, so Vinnie and I went to lunch. Man, he can talk!
--------------------
Much later (6:30 pm):
While writing the above, I realized I could rent a wreck, which happens to be right next door to the garage. I called the garage, and the Monday slot is still available. I tried to call the car rental place, but they weren't in the book, so I ran down there and reserved a car for tomorrow. I can drop off the van at the garage tomorrow and pick up the rental, and I'm all set for Monday's meeting. (The car rental place wasn't in the book because they changed their name.)
Then I went and did a round on the exercise machines, plus 25 fast situps, and got thrown out because they were closing. They close early on Friday.
When I got home, there was a message on the tape from Roman, asking how the van was (wasn't that sweet of him?), and a message from the Hunk saying he'd be here Monday to finish the chimney work. I called Roman right back, but I guess he has already gone over to xxx's house - for the weekend, like every weekend, damn him. I left a long message. I probably won't hear from him again until Tuesday, if then.
Tomorrow is filling up. I'm going to a monster indoor flea market at the fair grounds, then I have to pick up the rental and drop off the van at 3 pm, then meet the roofer here at 4 to sign the contract. Then I'll sit here alone with PBS on Saturday night. (Fishkill would like to see me again, but he has a dance recital (per salsa lessons) on Sunday, and will be rehearsing, or I'd have invited him to share some Saturday time.)
And --- that's what I've been up to.
Friday, April 21, 2006
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
#649 Busy & Recycling
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
Just a quick entry, for Daughter.
I have swept the north end of the basement, and am now carrying storage containers full of fabric and trims down. Then I'll get cleaned up, possibly go do the exercise machines, and then meet Roman after his tutoring session with Piper, for dinner out and possibly a movie.
I've found a wonderful local web site, where you list stuff you are willing to give away or trade, and I can't wait to list the six large bags of plastic peanuts, Jay's skis, two bed frames, and whole lots of stuff in the basement that I couldn't just throw away. It was such a fortunate coincidence that there was an article in the newspaper about it.
It's at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/HudsonValleyEcycle.
Later Edit: http://www.freecycle.org/display2.php is a list of similar sites worldwide. It's not sorted, so it'll take a while for me to locate other local groups - but go find yours!
Just a quick entry, for Daughter.
I have swept the north end of the basement, and am now carrying storage containers full of fabric and trims down. Then I'll get cleaned up, possibly go do the exercise machines, and then meet Roman after his tutoring session with Piper, for dinner out and possibly a movie.
I've found a wonderful local web site, where you list stuff you are willing to give away or trade, and I can't wait to list the six large bags of plastic peanuts, Jay's skis, two bed frames, and whole lots of stuff in the basement that I couldn't just throw away. It was such a fortunate coincidence that there was an article in the newspaper about it.
It's at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/HudsonValleyEcycle.
Later Edit: http://www.freecycle.org/display2.php is a list of similar sites worldwide. It's not sorted, so it'll take a while for me to locate other local groups - but go find yours!
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
#648 Daffodils
These are the daffodils in my yard. The pictures were taken last Saturday, and more have opened since then. It was overcast, so the photos are a bit dark, but you get the idea. I should have waited - the blossoms are much denser now.
Along the lower end of the driveway:
Along the front of the garage:
Along the side of the driveway:
There are a few more clumps scattered around the lawn.
About two weeks ago, when I had the dumpsters here, I mentioned that I had put some computer listings and dumps in, and that the next morning, I found paper streamers across the lawn and driveway. This is what it looked like after I cleared it off the drive and piled it at the end of the dumpster:
The blue you can see low beyond the trees, below the white clouds, are mountains, across the Hudson River.
Along the lower end of the driveway:
Along the front of the garage:
Along the side of the driveway:
There are a few more clumps scattered around the lawn.
About two weeks ago, when I had the dumpsters here, I mentioned that I had put some computer listings and dumps in, and that the next morning, I found paper streamers across the lawn and driveway. This is what it looked like after I cleared it off the drive and piled it at the end of the dumpster:
The blue you can see low beyond the trees, below the white clouds, are mountains, across the Hudson River.
#647 Some Blogs I Read
I've been very unhappy with the "news" reported in our local newspapers and on TV. There's nothing there. Even "Nightline" and the PBS information programs seem to have been watered down, or gotten awfully parochial. We don't know, and don't seem to want to know, what the rest of the world is doing or thinking. We hear of nothing but the sensational, and no one seems to think about what even that means. I guess partly because of that frustration, I've become addicted to blogs.
When I started my first journal on AOL, I started reading other AOL journals, mostly American. Interesting, but not particularly illuminating. Maybe, like me, most people avoid controversial topics because they don't want to deal with the fallout. The few blogs I visited that did express strong opinions tended to be rather vicious. Zealots, I guess.
From the American blogs I expanded to British bloggers. More interesting because so much of the day-to-day lifestyle and concerns are so different, yet the people were the same. I learned some stuff I didn't know. Like that although the British medical system is inexpensive for the people, it is very difficult to get timely and thorough care. It seems like you don't get a test unless you will die without that test. You have to be practically dying to get an appointment with a doctor. Otherwise, you get better on your own, or you get closer to dying. And the judgment on who is "worth" saving is more harsh.
I didn't get this from someone ranting about the system. I got it from ordinary people writing about their medical problems. They seem to accept the difficulty in getting care as perfectly normal.
I've been spreading out. There's the journalist in India I mentioned a few entries back, and now I'm fascinated by bloggers in the middle east. Some that I've been reading:
I don't like to comment or offer opinions on things I don't know a lot about, so I'll give you the links and let you form your own opinions. But one thing that impressed me is that there seems to be a very wide gulf between the moderate Muslims and the fanatics (of course!), and - the big thing - that there are a lot more moderates than we might have been led to believe. The fanatics are a minority, but they are in power, for various reasons. Throughout the middle east the moderates are chafing. It's an explosive situation. Weirdly, I see a parallel to the US. We have our own "religious police", and they're getting more powerful. How do you fight that?
So, anyway, this addiction is one reason the house clearing is moving slowly. That, and a very VERY slow dialup link.
When I started my first journal on AOL, I started reading other AOL journals, mostly American. Interesting, but not particularly illuminating. Maybe, like me, most people avoid controversial topics because they don't want to deal with the fallout. The few blogs I visited that did express strong opinions tended to be rather vicious. Zealots, I guess.
From the American blogs I expanded to British bloggers. More interesting because so much of the day-to-day lifestyle and concerns are so different, yet the people were the same. I learned some stuff I didn't know. Like that although the British medical system is inexpensive for the people, it is very difficult to get timely and thorough care. It seems like you don't get a test unless you will die without that test. You have to be practically dying to get an appointment with a doctor. Otherwise, you get better on your own, or you get closer to dying. And the judgment on who is "worth" saving is more harsh.
I didn't get this from someone ranting about the system. I got it from ordinary people writing about their medical problems. They seem to accept the difficulty in getting care as perfectly normal.
I've been spreading out. There's the journalist in India I mentioned a few entries back, and now I'm fascinated by bloggers in the middle east. Some that I've been reading:
- Rantings of a Sandmonkey - http://www.sandmonkey.org/ - excellent analysis of what's happening in Egypt and more generally in the middle east. For some great photos that you probably wouldn't see anywhere else, scroll down to the April 17 entry, "Doing the Media's Job". Entries above and below explain.
- The Big Pharaoh - http://www.bigpharaoh.com/ - Egyptian blogger, moderate Muslim, news and commentary.
- Mindbleed - http://www.mindbleed.com/ - Egyptian. Commentary, and the discussions in the comments are especially good.
- And Far Away... - http://andfaraway.blogspot.com/ - a woman in Jordan - not very political, but a woman's view of life.
- Saudi Jeans - http://saudijeans.blogspot.com/ - Saudi Arabia, young man's view, good links to other blogs and news reports.
I don't like to comment or offer opinions on things I don't know a lot about, so I'll give you the links and let you form your own opinions. But one thing that impressed me is that there seems to be a very wide gulf between the moderate Muslims and the fanatics (of course!), and - the big thing - that there are a lot more moderates than we might have been led to believe. The fanatics are a minority, but they are in power, for various reasons. Throughout the middle east the moderates are chafing. It's an explosive situation. Weirdly, I see a parallel to the US. We have our own "religious police", and they're getting more powerful. How do you fight that?
So, anyway, this addiction is one reason the house clearing is moving slowly. That, and a very VERY slow dialup link.
Monday, April 17, 2006
#646 Coincidences
Dreyfuss and I have been trading emails since dinner Saturday night. We set up another date for next Saturday, a monster flea market at the fairgrounds. He sent an enthusiastic note saying that he thought things were going very well, did I agree? He shouldn't have asked.
I thought about it a long time. I really did want to see him again, but I also knew that this wasn't going anywhere. So I sent him a note early Sunday evening that although I "find you good looking, intelligent, articulate, accepting, a gentleman, not a player, easy to talk with, open minded, with a close and supportive family, and generally happy with your life", I didn't think we were likely to connect long term, and that I didn't know why, but it was like a jigsaw puzzle piece that's the right color and shape, but still just doesn't fit, and I was worried about wasting his time. But (I'm such a waffle) if he still wanted to get together Saturday, I'd enjoy his company.
Later Sunday evening, there was entry #645, and I understood a little bit better the nature of the disconnect with Dreyfuss. There are things he likes and does that I would have some trouble appreciating. The mysterious piercings are only a tiny part - I might even get past that easily. But his idea of Heaven probably involves a huge recliner in front of a monster TV, with NASCAR races on, and a lot of beer and beer buddies. I'd have some trouble with that. I guess I'm as big a snob as Jay's father. But really, it just wouldn't work. I suspect that many of the things that make him happy would bother me. (I'm sure the reverse would also be true.)
That, of course, led to the thought that Roman and I like pretty much the same things. Our tastes are very similar. The degree here and there might vary, but it's all acceptable. At a basic level, we fit perfectly. There are a few places where our personalities clash, but nothing talking can't fix. Piper asked if I was comparing all these guys I'm meeting with Roman, and of course I am. How could I not?
I didn't hear from Dreyfuss again until this afternoon, when I got an email from him in which he agreed that the chemistry wasn't there, and it was ok, and he hoped I'd see it as mutual, and that no, he didn't think next Saturday was a good idea. I was happy that he took it ok and wasn't angry with me, but I was disappointed that he didn't want to see me again anyway. It wasn't a pride thing. I don't want to be touched by him, or to enter his life, or let him very far into mine, but I still wanted to talk more with him. I didn't know what my problem was, why I couldn't let him go, until I read the blog of a very perceptive young woman who said:
"I've been thinking I fixate on people and find myself with a near-compulsive urge to get inside their heads, and wondering why this is so. Sometimes I (do we all? am I unique in this?) just clock someone, pick up on a few things they say, get a few bits of insight into their character and feel an urgent need to know them, to understand them, to know what goes on in their mind -- maybe to figure the world out one person at a time."
... and I think she nailed it. I feel a need to know him. He's very different from most of the people I know, and I want to see into his mind and his world.
I think that's part of the problem with Roman, too. There are still a lot of things I don't understand, and I can't let go of him until I do.
On the "Fishkill" side, he had taken some pictures in the B&N parking lot on Saturday morning, and I got an email note from him Sunday morning saying that he had uploaded and cropped them, and he would send the large files to me to resize as I like, so I should expect "a torrent of emails" from him "this afternoon or this evening" with the photos attached. They haven't arrived yet. I'm getting anxious.
Ahah! As I was writing the above, I heard the "plop" of email dropping into my reader. It's the photos, from Fishkill. A torrent. Pardon me while I go look at them.
I thought about it a long time. I really did want to see him again, but I also knew that this wasn't going anywhere. So I sent him a note early Sunday evening that although I "find you good looking, intelligent, articulate, accepting, a gentleman, not a player, easy to talk with, open minded, with a close and supportive family, and generally happy with your life", I didn't think we were likely to connect long term, and that I didn't know why, but it was like a jigsaw puzzle piece that's the right color and shape, but still just doesn't fit, and I was worried about wasting his time. But (I'm such a waffle) if he still wanted to get together Saturday, I'd enjoy his company.
Later Sunday evening, there was entry #645, and I understood a little bit better the nature of the disconnect with Dreyfuss. There are things he likes and does that I would have some trouble appreciating. The mysterious piercings are only a tiny part - I might even get past that easily. But his idea of Heaven probably involves a huge recliner in front of a monster TV, with NASCAR races on, and a lot of beer and beer buddies. I'd have some trouble with that. I guess I'm as big a snob as Jay's father. But really, it just wouldn't work. I suspect that many of the things that make him happy would bother me. (I'm sure the reverse would also be true.)
That, of course, led to the thought that Roman and I like pretty much the same things. Our tastes are very similar. The degree here and there might vary, but it's all acceptable. At a basic level, we fit perfectly. There are a few places where our personalities clash, but nothing talking can't fix. Piper asked if I was comparing all these guys I'm meeting with Roman, and of course I am. How could I not?
I didn't hear from Dreyfuss again until this afternoon, when I got an email from him in which he agreed that the chemistry wasn't there, and it was ok, and he hoped I'd see it as mutual, and that no, he didn't think next Saturday was a good idea. I was happy that he took it ok and wasn't angry with me, but I was disappointed that he didn't want to see me again anyway. It wasn't a pride thing. I don't want to be touched by him, or to enter his life, or let him very far into mine, but I still wanted to talk more with him. I didn't know what my problem was, why I couldn't let him go, until I read the blog of a very perceptive young woman who said:
"I've been thinking I fixate on people and find myself with a near-compulsive urge to get inside their heads, and wondering why this is so. Sometimes I (do we all? am I unique in this?) just clock someone, pick up on a few things they say, get a few bits of insight into their character and feel an urgent need to know them, to understand them, to know what goes on in their mind -- maybe to figure the world out one person at a time."
... and I think she nailed it. I feel a need to know him. He's very different from most of the people I know, and I want to see into his mind and his world.
I think that's part of the problem with Roman, too. There are still a lot of things I don't understand, and I can't let go of him until I do.
-------------------------------------------------
On the "Fishkill" side, he had taken some pictures in the B&N parking lot on Saturday morning, and I got an email note from him Sunday morning saying that he had uploaded and cropped them, and he would send the large files to me to resize as I like, so I should expect "a torrent of emails" from him "this afternoon or this evening" with the photos attached. They haven't arrived yet. I'm getting anxious.
Ahah! As I was writing the above, I heard the "plop" of email dropping into my reader. It's the photos, from Fishkill. A torrent. Pardon me while I go look at them.
Sunday, April 16, 2006
#645 Disapproval
I was looking at the tv guide to see if there was anything worth watching tonight, and noticed there was a new Malcolm in the Middle on tonight, and I decided to watch it.
That reminded me of a friend, whose tastes are very similar to mine. We like a lot of the same things. However, he can't expose a lot of his tastes and preferences to his girlfriend, because "she wouldn't approve." I don't understand. I understand how you can be friends with someone whose tastes are different, but I don't understand how you can be that close to someone who doesn't approve of the basic you.
I am watching Malcolm now. I know that right now my friend is at his girlfriend's house, and he has his machine set to record Malcolm at home. I think that's so sad.
It reminds me of a lot of Mensans, who will look down their noses at you and declare "I don't even OWN a television set." They seem to feel that this is somehow superior. Like there can't possibly be anything worthy on "the boob tube", and they're not even willing to discuss the possibility. These are the same people who reject all but the snootiest magazines. It was very embarrassing to them when the largest jump in Mensa membership occurred as a direct result of a sample test in Reader's Digest.
Jay's father is very much like that. Even though much of his research has been in television (the technical/engineering aspects), he brags that the only channel he watches at home is the weather channel. He was visiting once when a show that Jay and I very much enjoyed was on, and we asked him to watch it with us. It was an early Frasier, and that night happened to be an especially good show. When it was over, Jay and I looked at each other, pleased, then we looked at Dad.
He was sitting there with his arms folded, frowning, and he said,
and I quote,
"Well. THAT was a complete waste of time."
At that moment, for a moment, I hated him.
He sure as Hell would never had made it as my boyfriend, and I pitied Jay his childhood. I pity my friend his girlfriend. My friend needs to value himself more.
That reminded me of a friend, whose tastes are very similar to mine. We like a lot of the same things. However, he can't expose a lot of his tastes and preferences to his girlfriend, because "she wouldn't approve." I don't understand. I understand how you can be friends with someone whose tastes are different, but I don't understand how you can be that close to someone who doesn't approve of the basic you.
I am watching Malcolm now. I know that right now my friend is at his girlfriend's house, and he has his machine set to record Malcolm at home. I think that's so sad.
It reminds me of a lot of Mensans, who will look down their noses at you and declare "I don't even OWN a television set." They seem to feel that this is somehow superior. Like there can't possibly be anything worthy on "the boob tube", and they're not even willing to discuss the possibility. These are the same people who reject all but the snootiest magazines. It was very embarrassing to them when the largest jump in Mensa membership occurred as a direct result of a sample test in Reader's Digest.
Jay's father is very much like that. Even though much of his research has been in television (the technical/engineering aspects), he brags that the only channel he watches at home is the weather channel. He was visiting once when a show that Jay and I very much enjoyed was on, and we asked him to watch it with us. It was an early Frasier, and that night happened to be an especially good show. When it was over, Jay and I looked at each other, pleased, then we looked at Dad.
He was sitting there with his arms folded, frowning, and he said,
and I quote,
"Well. THAT was a complete waste of time."
At that moment, for a moment, I hated him.
He sure as Hell would never had made it as my boyfriend, and I pitied Jay his childhood. I pity my friend his girlfriend. My friend needs to value himself more.
#644 Peeps
I had been trying to ignore marshmallow peeps. Sugar. Oh, dear. I'm down another two pounds, and I want to keep it that way.
But they're everywhere this weekend. I think about how wonderfully plump and warm and soft they get in the microwave. They chase me, peeping at my heels.
This afternoon I was asked to write something moving about someone I loved who had died. I wrote about Jay's lopsided smile when he saw me coming down the hall at the rehab center.
Then someone mentioned peeps. I was not at that nostalgic moment able to ignore peeps.
I remembered the time, before we were married, when Jay and I were driving through Catskill, a particular street and intersection, and I was feeding him peeps, one bite for him, one for me. We were so happy. The older couple in the car behind us were laughing at us, and waved at us, and the woman gave the man a kiss when we all stopped at the traffic light. It was spring, and we were in love.
I couldn't stand it any more. I went to the drug store and bought peeps. The properly yellow ones. One pack for now, and one to let get stale and chewy.
Here's to you, Jay. I love you, still.
But they're everywhere this weekend. I think about how wonderfully plump and warm and soft they get in the microwave. They chase me, peeping at my heels.
This afternoon I was asked to write something moving about someone I loved who had died. I wrote about Jay's lopsided smile when he saw me coming down the hall at the rehab center.
Then someone mentioned peeps. I was not at that nostalgic moment able to ignore peeps.
I remembered the time, before we were married, when Jay and I were driving through Catskill, a particular street and intersection, and I was feeding him peeps, one bite for him, one for me. We were so happy. The older couple in the car behind us were laughing at us, and waved at us, and the woman gave the man a kiss when we all stopped at the traffic light. It was spring, and we were in love.
I couldn't stand it any more. I went to the drug store and bought peeps. The properly yellow ones. One pack for now, and one to let get stale and chewy.
Here's to you, Jay. I love you, still.
Saturday, April 15, 2006
#643 Dates
OK, so I met Fishkill for the first time this morning. He showed up at Barnes & Noble with a huge box of chocolates. I find him intelligent, very good-looking, and interesting. He seems to have had a colorful life, and he did ask some probing questions. I don't think he liked some of the answers. He could be difficult, but he could be worth it. He could also be dangerous. I love the smell of testosterone. He seems full of the stuff. The difficulty is that he may be looking for an as-long-as-it's-fun bed partner, and I'm looking for a life partner. I indicated that I'd like to see him again, and his answer was interesting. He said that right now he wanted to sleep with me, and he'd have to let that die down before he could think reasonably about it. So however it goes, at least he's honest and up-front, and if there's a difference in our expectations, he's aware of it and taking it into consideration.
Dinner this evening with Dreyfuss, second meeting. He's the one with the piercings I don't want to know about. Our backgrounds and lifestyles are so very different, I had sort of planned to cut him loose this evening. But I didn't. I couldn't. He's very nice, and good looking, a gentleman, and very easy to talk with. He's intelligent, understanding and accepting, and unfazed by my most outrageous statements. A very open mind. So, he asked me out again, and I said yes. This may be a mistake. I wish I could see the future.
And, that's how my day went.
I don't know why I'm not very excited about any of it. Maybe it's because these guys are strangers, the big unknown, and I really want something more comfortable. Someone I've known for a long time. Something more predictable.
The big difference between the young me and the now me is that the young me could see the good and the bad, wanted the good, and figured she could change, fix, or live with the bad. The now me knows that you have to accept the bad with the good, ain't nothin' gonna change, nohow. So my advice to me now is that if something bothers me now, don't bother going any further, because the bother just gets bigger.
I'm not very good at taking my own advice. This could get interesting.
Dinner this evening with Dreyfuss, second meeting. He's the one with the piercings I don't want to know about. Our backgrounds and lifestyles are so very different, I had sort of planned to cut him loose this evening. But I didn't. I couldn't. He's very nice, and good looking, a gentleman, and very easy to talk with. He's intelligent, understanding and accepting, and unfazed by my most outrageous statements. A very open mind. So, he asked me out again, and I said yes. This may be a mistake. I wish I could see the future.
And, that's how my day went.
I don't know why I'm not very excited about any of it. Maybe it's because these guys are strangers, the big unknown, and I really want something more comfortable. Someone I've known for a long time. Something more predictable.
The big difference between the young me and the now me is that the young me could see the good and the bad, wanted the good, and figured she could change, fix, or live with the bad. The now me knows that you have to accept the bad with the good, ain't nothin' gonna change, nohow. So my advice to me now is that if something bothers me now, don't bother going any further, because the bother just gets bigger.
I'm not very good at taking my own advice. This could get interesting.
Friday, April 14, 2006
#642 Fallout Zone?
I was talking with someone recently about how this area was getting so built up so fast, and housing prices were still going up so fast, and that it was odd that just 20 miles south, where it's so much easier to commute to the city, what with a Metro North station and the highways and all, there isn't the same growth.
He said, "Indian Point."
Indian Point is a nuclear facility on the Hudson River.
This area marks the northernmost boundary of the fallout zone.
Oh.
He said, "Indian Point."
Indian Point is a nuclear facility on the Hudson River.
This area marks the northernmost boundary of the fallout zone.
Oh.
#641 Nohari Results
It's been a long time since I requested contributions to my Nohari Window. Many invitees sent an email saying that they couldn't find any terms that fit, or that fit consistently enough that they felt comfortable selecting them, and Nohari insisted on a minimum of five terms, so they refused to do it. So I got only 5 contributors.
Of the five, four know me in person (three currently, and one old friend I haven't actually seen since college), and one knows me only from my journals.
I had selected as my self-description:
Others chose:
Also, I hesitate to ask people questions unless I already know them very well, already know that the question is not intrusive, or already know the answer. I am very wary of intruding. That could be seen as aloofness, I guess. Like I don't care. I do, but I prefer that information be volunteered. I don't know why I'm so shy about that (well, I vividy recall being severely chastized on a few occasions in my youth by people I respected for asking questions that were "none of my business", and it frightened me then). I am aware it is a problem.
Daughter commented just yesterday, in connection with planning the time and location of her various wedding festivities, that I am obviously more comfortable in smaller groups, so she wouldn't feel bad about scheduling the bigger bashes when I might not be available. Which is a bit off, because although I am more likely to participate in a smaller group, I still enjoy larger groups as much. It's just that I am more quiet, more the watcher on the sidelines, in a larger group. (You know, it has just occurred to me that maybe my being a watcher sometimes makes others uncomfortable. But I'm not all that judgmental....)
The "unhappy" surprised me a bit. I think I'm basically happy. I have unhappy flashes, but I eventually beat them away. Mostly, I'm a little lonely now. I'm happy enough being alone, but sometimes I need someone to share with, and that need does seem to be increasing. (Funny, I just noticed that statement conflicts with the "aloof" perception.)
If you want to see the positives, just for review, go to my Johari Window.
Of the five, four know me in person (three currently, and one old friend I haven't actually seen since college), and one knows me only from my journals.
I had selected as my self-description:
- aloof
- insecure
- insensitive
- inattentive
- cynical
- predictable
Others chose:
- aloof - 3
- withdrawn - 2
- unhappy -2
- boastful - 2
- impatient - 2
- intolerant - 1
- inflexible - 1
- cynical - 1
- distant - 1
- imperceptive - 1
- chaotic - 1
- embarrassed - 1
- panicky - 1
- self-satisfied - 1
- overdramatic - 1
- predictable - 1
- unreliable - 1
Also, I hesitate to ask people questions unless I already know them very well, already know that the question is not intrusive, or already know the answer. I am very wary of intruding. That could be seen as aloofness, I guess. Like I don't care. I do, but I prefer that information be volunteered. I don't know why I'm so shy about that (well, I vividy recall being severely chastized on a few occasions in my youth by people I respected for asking questions that were "none of my business", and it frightened me then). I am aware it is a problem.
Daughter commented just yesterday, in connection with planning the time and location of her various wedding festivities, that I am obviously more comfortable in smaller groups, so she wouldn't feel bad about scheduling the bigger bashes when I might not be available. Which is a bit off, because although I am more likely to participate in a smaller group, I still enjoy larger groups as much. It's just that I am more quiet, more the watcher on the sidelines, in a larger group. (You know, it has just occurred to me that maybe my being a watcher sometimes makes others uncomfortable. But I'm not all that judgmental....)
The "unhappy" surprised me a bit. I think I'm basically happy. I have unhappy flashes, but I eventually beat them away. Mostly, I'm a little lonely now. I'm happy enough being alone, but sometimes I need someone to share with, and that need does seem to be increasing. (Funny, I just noticed that statement conflicts with the "aloof" perception.)
If you want to see the positives, just for review, go to my Johari Window.
Thursday, April 13, 2006
#640 Bits & Pieces, 04/13/06
I coulda sworn I posted an entry yesterday, but I can't find it anywhere.
The temperature in the village was 78 today. So nice. I stopped in at Piper's office to review the tax forms, and ended up trying to help him to access his email. Roman had taught him, but Piper forgot. His account is with Frontiernet. I have email accounts on something like five different servers, and I have never seen a less intuitive less usable interface. Frontiernet is a mess. We ended up going to lunch, and I brought the tax returns home with me to review.
When I came home I checked my own email. One of my accounts I use for "groups" only. I usually see maybe 1 to 5 emails on that account per day. Today there were 26! At first I thought there was something wrong, but it turned out that the local Mensa group had gotten all het up on two topics, and went a little crazy. Unfortunately, nobody had anything interesting to say about any of it. One of the topics, in fact, was all kinds of suggestions to fix a monthly dinner that 1) isn't broken, and 2) is the provence of the host (who happens to be Roman, who was at work and not involved in the discussion), and others should stay out of it anyway. So I blasted off a blistering post to that effect --- and there hasn't been a peep out of anyone since. Ain't nothin' like pissing off half your entire social group in one fell swoop.
Do you know what the "fell" in "fell swoop" means? It means "destructive, or deadly".
It's mid-April, and May is almost here. May, when the trees are in bloom, is my favorite month, especially around here, where there are so many orchards. My woods are mostly black locust, ancient apples (remnants of a colonial orchard), and wild cherries. In past years, when the locusts bloomed, long grape-like clusters of creamy flowers, the heavy sweet scent was heavenly. The last few years they've been hardly blooming. There's some kind of pest that's killing the locusts, and they aren't blooming because they're so weak. Sad.
I have two dates next Saturday.
I'll be meeting Fishkill (he's a golfer, not an angler - Fishkill is a town down the road) for the first time Saturday morning, for coffee and yummies. After almost two weeks and about 30 emails, it's about time. I like the way his mind works, so I'm hoping for the best. His profile describes his match as "slender and fit". I'm hoping my smiling eyes and scintillating mind will distract him.
Saturday evening I'll have dinner with Dreyfuss. I'm looking for something for the long haul, and I think I'm going to have to tell him that although I find him interesting, I don't think the prospects are good. Our interests and backgrounds are too dissimilar. (There's the NASCAR thing. And his small tattoos don't bother me, but when we were talking about them on Sunday, he happened to mention that he also had some piercings. I was sitting across the table from him, and I could see his face and ears, and his arms to mid-forearm, and I didn't see any piercings. Um. Cringe. Super cringe. I didn't ask. I changed the subject. I really really don't EVER want to know.)
Roman called last night and we talked for about an hour, and as predicted, I softened. It looks like we are settling into a rather standard date every two weeks(!), and one phone call on the off weeks, and no "intimate time". This is not my choice. At first it seemed like he was trying to start over - we had been going dutch for a long time - now he wants to pay for everything. But now I'm not sure. I don't know what's going on. Last month he was teaching evening classes Monday through Thursday, so time was tight, but this week it's Tuesday and Thursday only, so I can't use that as an excuse any more. I'm trying to be very cool about it. (Well, warm to him, but cool about the situation.)
The temperature in the village was 78 today. So nice. I stopped in at Piper's office to review the tax forms, and ended up trying to help him to access his email. Roman had taught him, but Piper forgot. His account is with Frontiernet. I have email accounts on something like five different servers, and I have never seen a less intuitive less usable interface. Frontiernet is a mess. We ended up going to lunch, and I brought the tax returns home with me to review.
When I came home I checked my own email. One of my accounts I use for "groups" only. I usually see maybe 1 to 5 emails on that account per day. Today there were 26! At first I thought there was something wrong, but it turned out that the local Mensa group had gotten all het up on two topics, and went a little crazy. Unfortunately, nobody had anything interesting to say about any of it. One of the topics, in fact, was all kinds of suggestions to fix a monthly dinner that 1) isn't broken, and 2) is the provence of the host (who happens to be Roman, who was at work and not involved in the discussion), and others should stay out of it anyway. So I blasted off a blistering post to that effect --- and there hasn't been a peep out of anyone since. Ain't nothin' like pissing off half your entire social group in one fell swoop.
Do you know what the "fell" in "fell swoop" means? It means "destructive, or deadly".
====================================
It's mid-April, and May is almost here. May, when the trees are in bloom, is my favorite month, especially around here, where there are so many orchards. My woods are mostly black locust, ancient apples (remnants of a colonial orchard), and wild cherries. In past years, when the locusts bloomed, long grape-like clusters of creamy flowers, the heavy sweet scent was heavenly. The last few years they've been hardly blooming. There's some kind of pest that's killing the locusts, and they aren't blooming because they're so weak. Sad.
====================================
I have two dates next Saturday.
I'll be meeting Fishkill (he's a golfer, not an angler - Fishkill is a town down the road) for the first time Saturday morning, for coffee and yummies. After almost two weeks and about 30 emails, it's about time. I like the way his mind works, so I'm hoping for the best. His profile describes his match as "slender and fit". I'm hoping my smiling eyes and scintillating mind will distract him.
Saturday evening I'll have dinner with Dreyfuss. I'm looking for something for the long haul, and I think I'm going to have to tell him that although I find him interesting, I don't think the prospects are good. Our interests and backgrounds are too dissimilar. (There's the NASCAR thing. And his small tattoos don't bother me, but when we were talking about them on Sunday, he happened to mention that he also had some piercings. I was sitting across the table from him, and I could see his face and ears, and his arms to mid-forearm, and I didn't see any piercings. Um. Cringe. Super cringe. I didn't ask. I changed the subject. I really really don't EVER want to know.)
Roman called last night and we talked for about an hour, and as predicted, I softened. It looks like we are settling into a rather standard date every two weeks(!), and one phone call on the off weeks, and no "intimate time". This is not my choice. At first it seemed like he was trying to start over - we had been going dutch for a long time - now he wants to pay for everything. But now I'm not sure. I don't know what's going on. Last month he was teaching evening classes Monday through Thursday, so time was tight, but this week it's Tuesday and Thursday only, so I can't use that as an excuse any more. I'm trying to be very cool about it. (Well, warm to him, but cool about the situation.)
====================================
The city of Schenectady, about an hour up the river, "accidentally" passed a really stupid law. For a few days it was illegal to park a car on any city street for longer than 12 hours. Vehicles parked for more than 12 hours would be ticketed. Duh? On the residential streets, the houses are close together with postage-stamp lawns if any, and no garages or driveways. A member of the city council said that the purpose of the law was to prevent trailers and abandoned cars cluttering up the streets. The reporter interviewed a businessman who pointed out a Lexus with flat tires that had been parked in front of his store "for the past year". The law has been repealed and is being rewritten after complaints from the citizenry.
Now, I'm having a LOT of trouble with this story. It's got so much stupidity it scares me.
Did no one on the city council READ the law before they voted on it? "12 hours" is pretty specific. That wasn't an accident. They didn't think about what that meant? Maybe they meant the 12 hours to apply only to trailers? There's no city attorney to review proposed laws? Did they think that putting tickets on abandoned cars would stop people from abandoning them? If a citizen goes away on business and leaves his car parked in front of his home, will it be ticketed? What's he supposed to do with it? Take it with him? There's an abandoned Lexus sitting there for a year, and no one reported it? No one investigated it? Sounds to me like it's probably a stolen car, ditched after a joyride. Wouldn't it make more sense to encourage citizens to report abandoned cars, and have the police attempt to locate an owner and/or then tow? Ticketing abandoned cars makes no sense at all. ("Yes, you owe the city of Schenectady $145,820 in parking tickets for allowing your car to be stolen and then abandoned on our streets for over a year, you careless person. You probably litter, too!")
Schenectady scares me.
Now, I'm having a LOT of trouble with this story. It's got so much stupidity it scares me.
Did no one on the city council READ the law before they voted on it? "12 hours" is pretty specific. That wasn't an accident. They didn't think about what that meant? Maybe they meant the 12 hours to apply only to trailers? There's no city attorney to review proposed laws? Did they think that putting tickets on abandoned cars would stop people from abandoning them? If a citizen goes away on business and leaves his car parked in front of his home, will it be ticketed? What's he supposed to do with it? Take it with him? There's an abandoned Lexus sitting there for a year, and no one reported it? No one investigated it? Sounds to me like it's probably a stolen car, ditched after a joyride. Wouldn't it make more sense to encourage citizens to report abandoned cars, and have the police attempt to locate an owner and/or then tow? Ticketing abandoned cars makes no sense at all. ("Yes, you owe the city of Schenectady $145,820 in parking tickets for allowing your car to be stolen and then abandoned on our streets for over a year, you careless person. You probably litter, too!")
Schenectady scares me.
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
#639 On the Roof
I received the new estimate for the roof job in the mail today.
The first estimate, the one that floored me, was $16,500 all inclusive.
This one is $11,900 all inclusive. The guy left a sample of the shingles he would use, and they are comparable. In fact, possibly better, since these are 30-year, and in the first estimate I believe we were looking at 20-year. Everything else is the same - 40 squares (40 10x10 sections), ice and water shield on edges and valleys, 30-lb felt paper, new drip edge, new boots on exhaust pipes, antenna removed/replaced and flashed, cobra ridge vent, and all debris disposal.
AND, the best part, the father of the roofer had given me a card worth 10% off a roofing job, so I can deduct $1,190, making the estimate $10,710. (I verified all this on the phone a few minutes ago.)
That's a BIG difference.
Actually, it's not an estimate. It's more like a bid. It says on the bottom that there can be no alterations or deviations involving extra costs without a written order. Cool.
If this were the first estimate I'd received, I'd still be stunned. But as the second, I'm relieved.
The first estimate, the one that floored me, was $16,500 all inclusive.
This one is $11,900 all inclusive. The guy left a sample of the shingles he would use, and they are comparable. In fact, possibly better, since these are 30-year, and in the first estimate I believe we were looking at 20-year. Everything else is the same - 40 squares (40 10x10 sections), ice and water shield on edges and valleys, 30-lb felt paper, new drip edge, new boots on exhaust pipes, antenna removed/replaced and flashed, cobra ridge vent, and all debris disposal.
AND, the best part, the father of the roofer had given me a card worth 10% off a roofing job, so I can deduct $1,190, making the estimate $10,710. (I verified all this on the phone a few minutes ago.)
That's a BIG difference.
Actually, it's not an estimate. It's more like a bid. It says on the bottom that there can be no alterations or deviations involving extra costs without a written order. Cool.
If this were the first estimate I'd received, I'd still be stunned. But as the second, I'm relieved.
#638 Tuesday
Blah day. 70 degrees, but no sun. Glad there's no wind, either, because the men were on the roof again today replacing the cement top on the chimney, and they have asked me to turn the furnace off and leave it off until the cement around the flue has had a chance to set. I guess I can let the house drop to about 60 this evening, but at that point I'm going to have to turn the furnace on. I'm annoyed that they didn't warn me about this part.
Hmmm - I forgot - I still have the backup electric heat on the heat pump. That will require swapping the baffles, which is a minor pain, but I could do that, I guess. At least I won't have to turn the water on. Good. If I hadn't written this, I wouldn't have remembered it.
I haven't heard from Fishkill since yesterday morning. Bad sign, considering that we had been swapping emails at the rate of three to five a day. I am such a klutz.
I also haven't heard from Roman since he was here last Wednesday - neither phone call nor email. Apparently Piper hasn't either. Somehow I wouldn't be surprised if neither of us heard from him until next week. He's really starting to piss me off.
Yeah, I think and say that all the time, and then completely forgive him as soon as I see him or hear his voice again.
I hate this. I wish I had better control of my own feelings.
Hmmm - I forgot - I still have the backup electric heat on the heat pump. That will require swapping the baffles, which is a minor pain, but I could do that, I guess. At least I won't have to turn the water on. Good. If I hadn't written this, I wouldn't have remembered it.
I haven't heard from Fishkill since yesterday morning. Bad sign, considering that we had been swapping emails at the rate of three to five a day. I am such a klutz.
I also haven't heard from Roman since he was here last Wednesday - neither phone call nor email. Apparently Piper hasn't either. Somehow I wouldn't be surprised if neither of us heard from him until next week. He's really starting to piss me off.
Yeah, I think and say that all the time, and then completely forgive him as soon as I see him or hear his voice again.
I hate this. I wish I had better control of my own feelings.
Monday, April 10, 2006
#637 OkCupid Type Test
Link: The 32-Type Dating Test by OkCupid - Free Online Dating. My profile name: [Deleted] |
#636 And Now an Unanswerable Question
Monday, April 10, 2006
I had to call the AOL technical help phone line the other day to solve a problem. I expected to be on hold for a while, and to get blah assistance. My earlier experiences with AOL chat help were so bad I accused the "helper" of being an automated keyword recognition program. He was very indignant, "I am too alive!"
Instead, this time I got right in, the guy knew exactly what my problem was, fixed it immediately, and stayed on the line until I tried it and was satisfied.
So today AOL asked me to take a satisfaction survey. Everything was fine, I rated everything as "Excellent", until I got to the following two questions (quoted as well as I can remember):
What was your expectation of AOL Customer Service before you called?
Excellent
Good
Average
Fair
Poor
I answered "Average", because I didn't expect much. The next question:
How would you rate AOL Customer Service on meeting your expectations?
Excellent
Good
Average
Fair
Poor
Now how the heck do you answer that? They were nowhere near my expectations, so do I answer "Poor"? If I had expected the service to be "Poor", and if it was in fact "Poor", exactly as expected, should I respond that they were "Excellent" on meeting my expectations? Having met my expectations exactly? Maybe I should have answered "Average", but that would imply that I usually expect average performance and usually get excellent performance.
Did anyone review or test these questions before they sent them out?
I had to call the AOL technical help phone line the other day to solve a problem. I expected to be on hold for a while, and to get blah assistance. My earlier experiences with AOL chat help were so bad I accused the "helper" of being an automated keyword recognition program. He was very indignant, "I am too alive!"
Instead, this time I got right in, the guy knew exactly what my problem was, fixed it immediately, and stayed on the line until I tried it and was satisfied.
So today AOL asked me to take a satisfaction survey. Everything was fine, I rated everything as "Excellent", until I got to the following two questions (quoted as well as I can remember):
What was your expectation of AOL Customer Service before you called?
Excellent
Good
Average
Fair
Poor
I answered "Average", because I didn't expect much. The next question:
How would you rate AOL Customer Service on meeting your expectations?
Excellent
Good
Average
Fair
Poor
Now how the heck do you answer that? They were nowhere near my expectations, so do I answer "Poor"? If I had expected the service to be "Poor", and if it was in fact "Poor", exactly as expected, should I respond that they were "Excellent" on meeting my expectations? Having met my expectations exactly? Maybe I should have answered "Average", but that would imply that I usually expect average performance and usually get excellent performance.
Did anyone review or test these questions before they sent them out?
#635 One Nice Note, and One Stupid Stupid Stupid Note
Monday, April 10, 2006
I forgot to mention - I heard from Dreyfuss. He says I'm "an attractive interesting lady" and he hopes that "perhaps we can meet again". So I suggested dinner (diner, dutch). I'm still not too very enthusiastic - remember, I'm looking for someone who can maybe possibly displace Roman. That's a tall order.
There's another guy, let's call him Fishkill, in whom I am very interested. We've been firing emails back and forth, probably 25 or so by now. I discovered we both also have profiles on a brand new site with an interesting "guided" process, where they select the people to whom they introduce you, and they don't allow direct email contact between two people until you have gone through personality tests, and answered specific questions posed to each other, and so on. So we've been following that process and "behind the building" commenting back and forth to each other about it (wildly against the rules!) I find his mind fascinating. My only concern is that he describes his ideal as "energetic, athletic, firm, and slender."
Uh oh.
Um, would you call Dolly Parton with wide baby-birthing hip bones and short powerful legs "slender"? I will NEVER be slender, even at my ideal weight, which, incidentally, is still two or three months off. And I am strong, even powerful, and fairly well muscled (I build muscle easily), but not I'm not "athletic". I can walk for miles at a reasonable pace, especially now that I've lost more weight, but I flatly refuse to run. (Not to mention that at my age and build, bouncing boobs bruise my chin.) And with all this loose newly-emptied skin, I am anything but "firm". Gack. Should I warn him or not? Should I hope that at first meeting my smiling eyes and scintillating mind distract him?
Well, back to the stupid stupid stupid note. We had to chose some questions to send each other on this new site. I answered both questions from him honestly, but one of my answers was (I feared) likely to raise a question in his mind which I would prefer not to answer just yet. But just in case, I spent some time last night composing an answer, really thinking about it, in case he asked the question. Giving myself time to think about it and all that. I wasn't completely satisfied with it, but I'd have more time to think about it, right? Then I stored it in the "To be sent later" folder on AOL. When I brought AOL up this morning, one of the first things that popped up was the "You have mail waiting to be sent" blurb.
Yeah. You guessed it.
I accidentally hit the "Send now" button, instead of the "Send later". I had recently installed a new version of AOL, and the location of that button had changed. The first time I had brought up this AOL, a few weeks ago, I had embarrassed myself terribly by doing the same thing, and sent some never-should-have-been-sent emails, notably to Roman (who knew my mood at the time I had originally written those unsent emails, and forgave me. I think.) Since then, I've been careful to put my own address in the "to" field, until I'm really ready to send it, so if I screw up it will just come to me. I didn't follow my own rule this time.
I immediately fired off a note telling him what had happened and begging for pity. (My premature anticipation of his unasked question makes me sound both aggressive and defensive, and a damned prude to boot.) Unfortunately, he didn't read that note until AFTER he had read the first note, and responded to it. His response was humorous, but with an undercurrent of sarcasm and bitterness. Which I completely understand. Sigh.
I may have blown it. Sad. He coulda been a contender.
I forgot to mention - I heard from Dreyfuss. He says I'm "an attractive interesting lady" and he hopes that "perhaps we can meet again". So I suggested dinner (diner, dutch). I'm still not too very enthusiastic - remember, I'm looking for someone who can maybe possibly displace Roman. That's a tall order.
There's another guy, let's call him Fishkill, in whom I am very interested. We've been firing emails back and forth, probably 25 or so by now. I discovered we both also have profiles on a brand new site with an interesting "guided" process, where they select the people to whom they introduce you, and they don't allow direct email contact between two people until you have gone through personality tests, and answered specific questions posed to each other, and so on. So we've been following that process and "behind the building" commenting back and forth to each other about it (wildly against the rules!) I find his mind fascinating. My only concern is that he describes his ideal as "energetic, athletic, firm, and slender."
Uh oh.
Um, would you call Dolly Parton with wide baby-birthing hip bones and short powerful legs "slender"? I will NEVER be slender, even at my ideal weight, which, incidentally, is still two or three months off. And I am strong, even powerful, and fairly well muscled (I build muscle easily), but not I'm not "athletic". I can walk for miles at a reasonable pace, especially now that I've lost more weight, but I flatly refuse to run. (Not to mention that at my age and build, bouncing boobs bruise my chin.) And with all this loose newly-emptied skin, I am anything but "firm". Gack. Should I warn him or not? Should I hope that at first meeting my smiling eyes and scintillating mind distract him?
Well, back to the stupid stupid stupid note. We had to chose some questions to send each other on this new site. I answered both questions from him honestly, but one of my answers was (I feared) likely to raise a question in his mind which I would prefer not to answer just yet. But just in case, I spent some time last night composing an answer, really thinking about it, in case he asked the question. Giving myself time to think about it and all that. I wasn't completely satisfied with it, but I'd have more time to think about it, right? Then I stored it in the "To be sent later" folder on AOL. When I brought AOL up this morning, one of the first things that popped up was the "You have mail waiting to be sent" blurb.
Yeah. You guessed it.
I accidentally hit the "Send now" button, instead of the "Send later". I had recently installed a new version of AOL, and the location of that button had changed. The first time I had brought up this AOL, a few weeks ago, I had embarrassed myself terribly by doing the same thing, and sent some never-should-have-been-sent emails, notably to Roman (who knew my mood at the time I had originally written those unsent emails, and forgave me. I think.) Since then, I've been careful to put my own address in the "to" field, until I'm really ready to send it, so if I screw up it will just come to me. I didn't follow my own rule this time.
I immediately fired off a note telling him what had happened and begging for pity. (My premature anticipation of his unasked question makes me sound both aggressive and defensive, and a damned prude to boot.) Unfortunately, he didn't read that note until AFTER he had read the first note, and responded to it. His response was humorous, but with an undercurrent of sarcasm and bitterness. Which I completely understand. Sigh.
I may have blown it. Sad. He coulda been a contender.
#634 Monday
Monday, April 10, 2006
I went to a Mensa board meeting last night, where I was appointed a member of the newly formed dues hardship committee. They wanted life members on the committee, because we don't pay dues, and therefore would have less interest in the outcome. Then they gave us a budget equal to two memberships for the year. Two. We have 200+ members, most of whom are underemployed, and we have something like 9 colleges in our area. This could get nasty. I may have stepped in it. Gack.
I have men on my roof right now, with a masonry saw (?) and what looks and sounds like a mini-jackhammer, removing the cement cap from the chimney, and building a wood frame for the replacement cement. They've been up there for almost two hours now, and the noise is making it hard to think. At least no one has fallen off or through the roof yet - my biggest fear. Tomorrow the mason comes to pour a new cement cap. Wednesday, rain is predicted. Is this a problem?
There's also a young man with a ... um ... it's like a frontloader on one end and a mini-steamshovel on the other end ... spreading topsoil in the hollow in the front yard where we burned all the brush earlier this year. The Hairless Hunk is directing operations. I haven't had the heart yet to tell him I'm getting more estimates on replacing the shingles. But I have to.
I went to a Mensa board meeting last night, where I was appointed a member of the newly formed dues hardship committee. They wanted life members on the committee, because we don't pay dues, and therefore would have less interest in the outcome. Then they gave us a budget equal to two memberships for the year. Two. We have 200+ members, most of whom are underemployed, and we have something like 9 colleges in our area. This could get nasty. I may have stepped in it. Gack.
---------------------------------------------
I have men on my roof right now, with a masonry saw (?) and what looks and sounds like a mini-jackhammer, removing the cement cap from the chimney, and building a wood frame for the replacement cement. They've been up there for almost two hours now, and the noise is making it hard to think. At least no one has fallen off or through the roof yet - my biggest fear. Tomorrow the mason comes to pour a new cement cap. Wednesday, rain is predicted. Is this a problem?
There's also a young man with a ... um ... it's like a frontloader on one end and a mini-steamshovel on the other end ... spreading topsoil in the hollow in the front yard where we burned all the brush earlier this year. The Hairless Hunk is directing operations. I haven't had the heart yet to tell him I'm getting more estimates on replacing the shingles. But I have to.
---------------------------------------------
There was a news story this morning about how libraries are getting tougher about overdue books and unpaid fines. Reminded me of a story.
My purse was stolen about 25 years ago. I immediately called the bank, and the credit card companies, and so on, and I also called the library to report my library card was stolen.
The woman I talked to was confused, "Why are you reporting a stolen library card?"
I told her, "Well, if I were a bad person and stole a library card, I'd immediately go to every library in the city, and take out a gazillion books, and keep them!"
When she stopped laughing, she pointed out that purse snatchers are not likely to be readers.
Me: "Oh."
My purse was stolen about 25 years ago. I immediately called the bank, and the credit card companies, and so on, and I also called the library to report my library card was stolen.
The woman I talked to was confused, "Why are you reporting a stolen library card?"
I told her, "Well, if I were a bad person and stole a library card, I'd immediately go to every library in the city, and take out a gazillion books, and keep them!"
When she stopped laughing, she pointed out that purse snatchers are not likely to be readers.
Me: "Oh."
Sunday, April 09, 2006
#633 Natural Highs
Got this off a Mensa site. Now I know why I'm generally happy. I get most of these things often, and I appreciate every one.
1. Falling in love.
2. Laughing so hard your face hurts.
3. A hot shower.
4. No lines at the supermarket
5. A special glance.
6. Getting mail
7. Taking a drive on a pretty road.
8. Hearing your favorite song on the radio.
9. Lying in bed listening to the rain outside.
10. Hot towels fresh out of the dryer.
11. Chocolate milkshake. (or vanilla or strawberry!)
12. A bubble bath.
13. Giggling.
14. A good conversation.
15. The beach.
16. Finding a 20 dollar bill in your coat from last winter.
17. Laughing at yourself.
19. Midnight phone calls that last for hours.
20. Running through sprinklers.
21. Laughing for absolutely no reason at all.
22. Having someone tell you that you're beautiful.
23. Laughing at an inside joke.
24. Friends.
25. Accidentally overhearing someone say something nice about you.
26. Waking up and realizing you still have a few hours left to sleep.
27. Your first kiss (either the very first or with a new partner).
28. Making new friends or spending time with old ones.
29. Playing with a new puppy.
30. Having someone play with your hair.
31. Sweet dreams.
32. Hot chocolate.
33. Road trips with friends.
34. Swinging on swings.
35. Making eye contact with a cute stranger.
36. Making chocolate chip cookies.
37. Having your friends send you homemade cookies.
38. Holding hands with someone you care about.
39. Running into an old friend and realizing that some things (good or bad) never change.
40. Watching the expression on someone's face as they open a much desired present from you.
41. Watching the sunrise.
42. Getting out of bed every morning and being grateful for another beautiful day.
43. Knowing that somebody misses you.
44. Getting a hug from someone you care about deeply.
45. Knowing you've done the right thing, no matter what other people think.
Natural Highs
1. Falling in love.
2. Laughing so hard your face hurts.
3. A hot shower.
4. No lines at the supermarket
5. A special glance.
6. Getting mail
7. Taking a drive on a pretty road.
8. Hearing your favorite song on the radio.
9. Lying in bed listening to the rain outside.
10. Hot towels fresh out of the dryer.
11. Chocolate milkshake. (or vanilla or strawberry!)
12. A bubble bath.
13. Giggling.
14. A good conversation.
15. The beach.
16. Finding a 20 dollar bill in your coat from last winter.
17. Laughing at yourself.
19. Midnight phone calls that last for hours.
20. Running through sprinklers.
21. Laughing for absolutely no reason at all.
22. Having someone tell you that you're beautiful.
23. Laughing at an inside joke.
24. Friends.
25. Accidentally overhearing someone say something nice about you.
26. Waking up and realizing you still have a few hours left to sleep.
27. Your first kiss (either the very first or with a new partner).
28. Making new friends or spending time with old ones.
29. Playing with a new puppy.
30. Having someone play with your hair.
31. Sweet dreams.
32. Hot chocolate.
33. Road trips with friends.
34. Swinging on swings.
35. Making eye contact with a cute stranger.
36. Making chocolate chip cookies.
37. Having your friends send you homemade cookies.
38. Holding hands with someone you care about.
39. Running into an old friend and realizing that some things (good or bad) never change.
40. Watching the expression on someone's face as they open a much desired present from you.
41. Watching the sunrise.
42. Getting out of bed every morning and being grateful for another beautiful day.
43. Knowing that somebody misses you.
44. Getting a hug from someone you care about deeply.
45. Knowing you've done the right thing, no matter what other people think.
#632 Do I Really Need A Title for Every Entry?
Sunday, April 9, 2006
Well, I met Dreyfuss this morning, and it was ok. There was no immediate connection - in fact for the first half hour he didn't look me in the eye, but then time speeded up and it got better. I was there an hour and a half. He seems nice enough. He doesn't have my last name or phone number yet. I'm to email him with my number, so I have a little time to think about it. I don't know where it might go. It didn't seem completely positive, but it wasn't negative, either. We'll see.
This is my Personality Profile from one of the newer dating sites:
You are a DIRECTOR/negotiator
You are an innovator. You are an inventive, thorough, independent thinker with a deep interest in how the world works. You quickly grasp patterns and relationships. And when you focus on a particular work-related or social puzzle, you often come up with novel theories and ideas about it.
You have a strong need to achieve. You want to make an impact on the world. And with your aptitude for theoretical thinking, your investigative rigor, your logic and your determination, you are likely to win the honors your hard work deserves.
You are a complex person, outwardly assertive, logical and intellectual, yet likely to see the many sides of an issue, feel deep sympathy for others and enjoy the spiritual as well as the concrete.
You can be friendly, insightful and eager to please. These attributes, combined with your love of challenges and knowledge, make you an exciting, and at times, very sensitive companion.
Duh?
Well, it's wrong on winning the honors. I never win the honors. Not that I didn't deserve a few honors along the line, but it seems like I was always too early or too politically incorrect.
This one doesn't say anything about Leadership. Most profiles of me do, and as soon as I see "Leadership", I figure it's a lot of baloney. Leadership to me always brought a vision of someone leading the troops over a barricade, or whipping up enthusiasm in a team, or something. I can't, don't, and don't want to do anything like that. I was a team leader once at work, and hated it.
But I had a sort of epiphany today. Leadership doesn't necessarily involve pulling along followers! Leadership can also mean forging new paths. Innovating. Not following the herd. It's something a little more than simply not being a follower. It means having vision beyond the herd, and implementing that vision. (In fact, you can be a follower, and still be a leader. Power behind the throne kind of thing.) In that sense, I AM a Leader. I don't follow the group just because it's the safe thing to do. I frequently go my own way and do my own thing. Sometimes I can bring the herd along with me, but that frequently requires more social and political skill than I have. And more "desire to make an impact" than I have - so I guess the above profile is wrong there, too.
I mentioned that at the Volunteer Fair, I had signed up for, among other things, CASA (Court Appointed Special Advocates). They deal with neglected and abused children involved in the family courts. To quote from their pamphlet: "Today, CASA is the only organization that empowers everyday citizens as officers of the court. [Me - not technically true, volunteer mediators are also officers of the court, which carries a legal requirement to report certain offenses to the court, and which can be a social burden.] CASA is an information gatherer and an advocate for the best interests of the child. Volunteer advocates review records, research information and talk to all involved. They visit the child regularly ... " etc. Where the social workers may have 20-30 cases at a time, the CASA volunteer concentrates on one or two.
I thought I could be good at this. I know about abuse and neglect. I know about manipulation. I'm very good at research. I write good clear reports. I pay attention to detail. There's a lot of education and training involved, but I have the time. I figured it would be a good way to meet handsome single lawyers. Ok, scratch that one. Family court attorneys are haggard and overworked.
But, almost everyone I've asked about it has advised me against it. They tell me I have too much of a tendency to take in strays, and this will tear me apart. One friend asked if I could work at the SPCA shelter, and if the answer is no, then I shouldn't attempt this. I can't even GO to the shelter. If I wanted to adopt a beastie, they'd have to bring The One out to me a few blocks away. I am still haunted to tears by a little abandoned whippet I had to leave on a Florida beach 13 years ago.
On the other hand, I remember how my brother and I tried to get help many years ago, and how no one would listen to us. I want to make a difference. (Ok, so maybe that profile's "desire to make an impact" isn't too far off.)
If I can't do it myself, maybe one of you can. See http://www.nationalcasa.org/
Well, I met Dreyfuss this morning, and it was ok. There was no immediate connection - in fact for the first half hour he didn't look me in the eye, but then time speeded up and it got better. I was there an hour and a half. He seems nice enough. He doesn't have my last name or phone number yet. I'm to email him with my number, so I have a little time to think about it. I don't know where it might go. It didn't seem completely positive, but it wasn't negative, either. We'll see.
-----------------------------------------------------------
This is my Personality Profile from one of the newer dating sites:
You are a DIRECTOR/negotiator
You are an innovator. You are an inventive, thorough, independent thinker with a deep interest in how the world works. You quickly grasp patterns and relationships. And when you focus on a particular work-related or social puzzle, you often come up with novel theories and ideas about it.
You have a strong need to achieve. You want to make an impact on the world. And with your aptitude for theoretical thinking, your investigative rigor, your logic and your determination, you are likely to win the honors your hard work deserves.
You are a complex person, outwardly assertive, logical and intellectual, yet likely to see the many sides of an issue, feel deep sympathy for others and enjoy the spiritual as well as the concrete.
You can be friendly, insightful and eager to please. These attributes, combined with your love of challenges and knowledge, make you an exciting, and at times, very sensitive companion.
Duh?
Well, it's wrong on winning the honors. I never win the honors. Not that I didn't deserve a few honors along the line, but it seems like I was always too early or too politically incorrect.
This one doesn't say anything about Leadership. Most profiles of me do, and as soon as I see "Leadership", I figure it's a lot of baloney. Leadership to me always brought a vision of someone leading the troops over a barricade, or whipping up enthusiasm in a team, or something. I can't, don't, and don't want to do anything like that. I was a team leader once at work, and hated it.
But I had a sort of epiphany today. Leadership doesn't necessarily involve pulling along followers! Leadership can also mean forging new paths. Innovating. Not following the herd. It's something a little more than simply not being a follower. It means having vision beyond the herd, and implementing that vision. (In fact, you can be a follower, and still be a leader. Power behind the throne kind of thing.) In that sense, I AM a Leader. I don't follow the group just because it's the safe thing to do. I frequently go my own way and do my own thing. Sometimes I can bring the herd along with me, but that frequently requires more social and political skill than I have. And more "desire to make an impact" than I have - so I guess the above profile is wrong there, too.
-----------------------------------------------------------
I mentioned that at the Volunteer Fair, I had signed up for, among other things, CASA (Court Appointed Special Advocates). They deal with neglected and abused children involved in the family courts. To quote from their pamphlet: "Today, CASA is the only organization that empowers everyday citizens as officers of the court. [Me - not technically true, volunteer mediators are also officers of the court, which carries a legal requirement to report certain offenses to the court, and which can be a social burden.] CASA is an information gatherer and an advocate for the best interests of the child. Volunteer advocates review records, research information and talk to all involved. They visit the child regularly ... " etc. Where the social workers may have 20-30 cases at a time, the CASA volunteer concentrates on one or two.
I thought I could be good at this. I know about abuse and neglect. I know about manipulation. I'm very good at research. I write good clear reports. I pay attention to detail. There's a lot of education and training involved, but I have the time. I figured it would be a good way to meet handsome single lawyers. Ok, scratch that one. Family court attorneys are haggard and overworked.
But, almost everyone I've asked about it has advised me against it. They tell me I have too much of a tendency to take in strays, and this will tear me apart. One friend asked if I could work at the SPCA shelter, and if the answer is no, then I shouldn't attempt this. I can't even GO to the shelter. If I wanted to adopt a beastie, they'd have to bring The One out to me a few blocks away. I am still haunted to tears by a little abandoned whippet I had to leave on a Florida beach 13 years ago.
On the other hand, I remember how my brother and I tried to get help many years ago, and how no one would listen to us. I want to make a difference. (Ok, so maybe that profile's "desire to make an impact" isn't too far off.)
If I can't do it myself, maybe one of you can. See http://www.nationalcasa.org/
Saturday, April 08, 2006
#631
The carting man and his roofer son came today to look at the roof. I'll be getting an estimate in the mail early next week. They recommended that instead of an exhaust fan in the gable, I should have one of those funny spinning mushroom things in the top of the roof. I'll have to research them a bit. It'll let the hot air out in the summer, but will it let cold air in in the winter? Will it move as much air as an electric fan? Won't it look ugly, depending on where they put it?
I didn't do much of anything else today. I discovered the blog of a female journalist in India (http://soniafaleiro.blogspot.com/). She did a recent series on domestic workers in India, and I was fascinated. Spent much of the day reading her archives.
I don't think I want to go to India - I don't think I could handle the poverty - but she travels a lot in southern Asia, and she has reawakened my desire for Thailand.
I'm meeting Dreyfuss for brunch tomorrow, at his daughter's deli. I don't think the he-me combination has any future, I suspect our lifestyles and backgrounds are too different. I mean, he says things like "Well now Little Lady..." in his emails (which, by the way, are otherwise well composed and articulate), and keeps wanting to come down here and pick me up to "save me the drive". (Anyone who knows me at all will be cringing.) Way to get my back up. I think he would prefer someone in an apron.
If it comes to it, I don't know how to handle rejecting him. I hope he doesn't like me. How did I get myself into this? I can't not go tomorrow....
Maybe I should overdress and wear all my diamonds and keep bringing the conversation around to Shakespeare and my favorite London pubs.
With my luck he'd love that.
I didn't do much of anything else today. I discovered the blog of a female journalist in India (http://soniafaleiro.blogspot.com/). She did a recent series on domestic workers in India, and I was fascinated. Spent much of the day reading her archives.
I don't think I want to go to India - I don't think I could handle the poverty - but she travels a lot in southern Asia, and she has reawakened my desire for Thailand.
I'm meeting Dreyfuss for brunch tomorrow, at his daughter's deli. I don't think the he-me combination has any future, I suspect our lifestyles and backgrounds are too different. I mean, he says things like "Well now Little Lady..." in his emails (which, by the way, are otherwise well composed and articulate), and keeps wanting to come down here and pick me up to "save me the drive". (Anyone who knows me at all will be cringing.) Way to get my back up. I think he would prefer someone in an apron.
If it comes to it, I don't know how to handle rejecting him. I hope he doesn't like me. How did I get myself into this? I can't not go tomorrow....
Maybe I should overdress and wear all my diamonds and keep bringing the conversation around to Shakespeare and my favorite London pubs.
With my luck he'd love that.
Friday, April 07, 2006
#630 Toll Takers
I crossed the river today, on the Kingston-Rhinecliff bridge, and realized once again that I miss the toll takers. When I lived in Highland and worked in Poughkeepsie, I used to buy a book of commuter tickets for $.40 a west-to-east crossing on the Mid-Hudson bridge. I'd stop at the toll booth, and the toll takers always had something pleasant to say as they ripped off the ticket. They'd comment on the weather, or wish me a nice day, or a happy holiday, or, if female, they'd compliment my hair or jewelry. It was always so nice. One guy was so personable that when he retired, they announced his retirement party in the newspaper, and several hundred of his regular commuters showed up to slap his back and wish him luck.
Now I have EZ-Pass. An electronic box on the windshield that automatically charges me $1 per trip.
At first, even with EZ-Pass, you still had to stop at the booth, and after the toll taker pushed a button to read your box, they'd pass you through, with a wave and a greeting. Less time to smile, but it was still there.
Gradually, the greetings grew less common. I guess because fewer and fewer people bothered to roll their window down when they stopped for the reading.
Now they've replaced most of the manned booths with unmanned booths that read the box. No stopping, no greeting, no toll taker. All very impersonal. (And apparently more expensive than paying a toll taker's salary.)
It's all so dry. So blah.
I suppose I could go through the one remaining manned booth and pay a dollar cash, but even there something has changed. The toll takers not only no longer greet you, they don't even LOOK at you. Somehow that's worse.
I miss the old toll takers, and the way they could brighten the commute.
Since 9/11/01, since there has been an influx of NYC escapees, since it has been getting increasingly crowded around here, since the traffic has gotten heavier, there's been a change in the way people relate to one another, and this toll taker thing is but a tiny piece of the larger shift.
I don't like it.
Now I have EZ-Pass. An electronic box on the windshield that automatically charges me $1 per trip.
At first, even with EZ-Pass, you still had to stop at the booth, and after the toll taker pushed a button to read your box, they'd pass you through, with a wave and a greeting. Less time to smile, but it was still there.
Gradually, the greetings grew less common. I guess because fewer and fewer people bothered to roll their window down when they stopped for the reading.
Now they've replaced most of the manned booths with unmanned booths that read the box. No stopping, no greeting, no toll taker. All very impersonal. (And apparently more expensive than paying a toll taker's salary.)
It's all so dry. So blah.
I suppose I could go through the one remaining manned booth and pay a dollar cash, but even there something has changed. The toll takers not only no longer greet you, they don't even LOOK at you. Somehow that's worse.
I miss the old toll takers, and the way they could brighten the commute.
Since 9/11/01, since there has been an influx of NYC escapees, since it has been getting increasingly crowded around here, since the traffic has gotten heavier, there's been a change in the way people relate to one another, and this toll taker thing is but a tiny piece of the larger shift.
I don't like it.
Thursday, April 06, 2006
#629 Feelin' Groovy 2
I'm psychic! I got a note from the future co-mother-in-law to whom I had sent the silk veil. She has the hip scarf from Rakkasah, which is orange (I had forgotten what color it was), and she has purchased some other bits of practice costume, all in shades of brown and orange. The veil I selected to send to her is copper, orange, and yellow! I hope it will go beautifully with her other stuff, and will pick up the color of her hair. Wow. And to think I almost chose a red one.
I am so pleased!
The second dumpster has been picked up. I didn't think it would be as heavy as the first load, because this one has a lot less glossy paper and a lot more cardboard. But this load also came out to 1.5 tons (3,000 lbs). I forgot there was wood, metal, and huge old computer tape reels in this load, all of which is also heavy. That's 7,300 lbs of trash I've carried out, all by myself.
I am so proud!
I chatted quite a bit with the guy who came for the dumpster. His son, it turns out, is a roofer. So I'm getting another estimate on the roof on Saturday. He'll also give me an estimate for installing an exhaust fan in the attic, which will help the air conditioning situation enormously. Progress is being made, and I didn't even have to do anything for it.
I am so fortunate!
I found the mini-cycle that I had bought to exercise Jay that last year, when he was immobile. It's pedals on a small wheel, that you set up in front of a wheelchair or on a table to exercise legs or arms. It has a band that you tighten or loosen to adjust the tension. Jay was never really able to use it. I have set it up under the computer desk, and as I sit here, I'm pedaling like mad.
I am so virtuous!
I am so pleased!
The second dumpster has been picked up. I didn't think it would be as heavy as the first load, because this one has a lot less glossy paper and a lot more cardboard. But this load also came out to 1.5 tons (3,000 lbs). I forgot there was wood, metal, and huge old computer tape reels in this load, all of which is also heavy. That's 7,300 lbs of trash I've carried out, all by myself.
I am so proud!
I chatted quite a bit with the guy who came for the dumpster. His son, it turns out, is a roofer. So I'm getting another estimate on the roof on Saturday. He'll also give me an estimate for installing an exhaust fan in the attic, which will help the air conditioning situation enormously. Progress is being made, and I didn't even have to do anything for it.
I am so fortunate!
I found the mini-cycle that I had bought to exercise Jay that last year, when he was immobile. It's pedals on a small wheel, that you set up in front of a wheelchair or on a table to exercise legs or arms. It has a band that you tighten or loosen to adjust the tension. Jay was never really able to use it. I have set it up under the computer desk, and as I sit here, I'm pedaling like mad.
I am so virtuous!
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
#628 Feelin' Groovy
Missed yesterday's entry, because I was pretty busy.
I've got Piper and Roman together. Piper is a computer klutz, doesn't even know how to get to his email. Roman teaches computer stuff, and he's very good at it. So they had their first tutoring session yesterday afternoon, in Piper's office. I stopped in to see how they were getting along, and then left them to it.
Roman knows that Piper knows about my trials and tribulations with him, but he doesn't know how much Piper knows, or what he thinks about it. Piper knows that Roman knows that Piper knows. Roman knows that Piper is (or was) sort of interested in me. They have each assured me they won't say anything untoward. I can't stop giggling.
I had spent the morning doing some more basement stuff, stopped in to see how Piper and Roman were doing (and it was funny - while I was there, the phone rang, Piper answered it, and he said "She's standing here right now", and Roman and I looked at each other like "what? who? another one? who knows I'm here?" It was The Angel, Piper's cohort, who is doing my taxes. He's worried that I'll have sticker shock when he tells me how much estimated taxes I'll have to pay each quarter because of all the capital gains I'll have this year.)
After he had finished with Piper, Roman came here and admired the daffodils, and admired more how much progress I'd made in the basement, and when he saw the dirt that came out of the kitchen faucet, he changed the water filter for me! Wow! It wasn't easy. The threads were all coated with hard water salts, and it took some muscle to get it loose. Then we went out to dinner. (I did offer to cook, but he wanted to go out.) The first restaurant we went to was a bit of a drive, and was closed (the sign on the door indicated it should be open, but ...), so we ended up back in the village. The drive out and back was nice, because he had a comedy CD from our college years, and we laughed together a lot.
After we'd finished eating, we sat at the table for more than an hour just talking. It was really nice. We came back here for ice cream, talked some more, and he left a few minutes after 10. It's almost like we're starting over, and I like it. It's frustrating in a certain way, but without that certain thing, I don't feel used or taken advantage of, and I kind of like the feeling of being explored and courted. Like he has no other reason to spend time with me except - to spend time with me. That's not a bad thing.
(Of course, the devil in me is thinking that he doesn't need that certain thing from me, he's getting that elsewhere, and maybe what he's really doing is being faithful to her, and he's actually trying to let me down gently, and .... I've got to stop thinking like that! That way be dragons!)
(And yeah, I said I wasn't going to mention him any more, but it's just too large a part of my life to ignore or gloss over. The situation is where I am right now, and that's that.)
Today I kind of floated around. I selected a hand-painted silk veil from my stock to send to my soon-to-be co-mother-in-law, packed it up, and sent it to her in California by overnight mail. She had attended Rakkasah with me last fall, and got all excited about belly dance lessons. I gifted her with a hip scarf in exchange for a promise that she'd sign up for lessons when she got back to Ca. (and after Rakkasah had long worn off), and she did. She and a friend went to their first lesson last Monday evening, expecting to feel old and fat and clumsy, and it turns out that she absolutely loves it! (Heh heh. I knew she would. Apparently she lucked out and found an instructor who knows how to make it fun. It's all about how you feel moving, not what you look like. (Besides which, she's in terrific shape.))
The carting company called, and they sorta want their container back, so I spent the rest of the day throwing the last bits in. The final load was the dead humidifiers. They'll pick it all up tomorrow. There's at least one more container load to go, but that stuff is scattered all over the house, so ... maybe at the end of the summer, after I pull it all together.
And, I am now in email conversations with three online matches. Yes, I am worried that I may be toying with them. But I need something in reserve, in case, you know ... them dragons what might be there.
I've got Piper and Roman together. Piper is a computer klutz, doesn't even know how to get to his email. Roman teaches computer stuff, and he's very good at it. So they had their first tutoring session yesterday afternoon, in Piper's office. I stopped in to see how they were getting along, and then left them to it.
Roman knows that Piper knows about my trials and tribulations with him, but he doesn't know how much Piper knows, or what he thinks about it. Piper knows that Roman knows that Piper knows. Roman knows that Piper is (or was) sort of interested in me. They have each assured me they won't say anything untoward. I can't stop giggling.
I had spent the morning doing some more basement stuff, stopped in to see how Piper and Roman were doing (and it was funny - while I was there, the phone rang, Piper answered it, and he said "She's standing here right now", and Roman and I looked at each other like "what? who? another one? who knows I'm here?" It was The Angel, Piper's cohort, who is doing my taxes. He's worried that I'll have sticker shock when he tells me how much estimated taxes I'll have to pay each quarter because of all the capital gains I'll have this year.)
After he had finished with Piper, Roman came here and admired the daffodils, and admired more how much progress I'd made in the basement, and when he saw the dirt that came out of the kitchen faucet, he changed the water filter for me! Wow! It wasn't easy. The threads were all coated with hard water salts, and it took some muscle to get it loose. Then we went out to dinner. (I did offer to cook, but he wanted to go out.) The first restaurant we went to was a bit of a drive, and was closed (the sign on the door indicated it should be open, but ...), so we ended up back in the village. The drive out and back was nice, because he had a comedy CD from our college years, and we laughed together a lot.
After we'd finished eating, we sat at the table for more than an hour just talking. It was really nice. We came back here for ice cream, talked some more, and he left a few minutes after 10. It's almost like we're starting over, and I like it. It's frustrating in a certain way, but without that certain thing, I don't feel used or taken advantage of, and I kind of like the feeling of being explored and courted. Like he has no other reason to spend time with me except - to spend time with me. That's not a bad thing.
(Of course, the devil in me is thinking that he doesn't need that certain thing from me, he's getting that elsewhere, and maybe what he's really doing is being faithful to her, and he's actually trying to let me down gently, and .... I've got to stop thinking like that! That way be dragons!)
(And yeah, I said I wasn't going to mention him any more, but it's just too large a part of my life to ignore or gloss over. The situation is where I am right now, and that's that.)
Today I kind of floated around. I selected a hand-painted silk veil from my stock to send to my soon-to-be co-mother-in-law, packed it up, and sent it to her in California by overnight mail. She had attended Rakkasah with me last fall, and got all excited about belly dance lessons. I gifted her with a hip scarf in exchange for a promise that she'd sign up for lessons when she got back to Ca. (and after Rakkasah had long worn off), and she did. She and a friend went to their first lesson last Monday evening, expecting to feel old and fat and clumsy, and it turns out that she absolutely loves it! (Heh heh. I knew she would. Apparently she lucked out and found an instructor who knows how to make it fun. It's all about how you feel moving, not what you look like. (Besides which, she's in terrific shape.))
The carting company called, and they sorta want their container back, so I spent the rest of the day throwing the last bits in. The final load was the dead humidifiers. They'll pick it all up tomorrow. There's at least one more container load to go, but that stuff is scattered all over the house, so ... maybe at the end of the summer, after I pull it all together.
And, I am now in email conversations with three online matches. Yes, I am worried that I may be toying with them. But I need something in reserve, in case, you know ... them dragons what might be there.
Monday, April 03, 2006
#627 Running in Place
Another mostly wasted day, as far as the house is concerned, anyway.
Something went wrong with my Netscape this morning. I could get to websites, but I couldn't click on any links in pages and expect to go anywhere. Like, nothing happened. Which wouldn't have been so very bad, except that I had some bills and other stuff that HAD to be done online TODAY.
I shut Netscape down and tried to bring it back up, and it wouldn't start again at all. So I went to Explorer, and that worked, but then I discovered that with pure Explorer, I had no bookmarks, and no automatically filled in passwords. Ack! I'm supposed to know this stuff?
AOL was no help - no bookmarks (not the businessy ones), Internet through AOL is slow, and navigation is painful. (Note to self - when I finally get a working printer, print off the flippin' bookmarks list.)
So what with trying to figure out what went wrong, searching for updates, shutting down and restarting (believe it or not, IPLing this dog takes at least 12 minutes), digging up website names and passwords, it took me four hours to simply transfer money to pay the car insurance, and paying it.
That used up the morning.
Afternoon, I stopped by the spa to pay for this month, and get weighed and measured. Even though I hadn't been in there in more than two weeks because of the basement work and other scheduling problems, I have lost more weight and more inches. I can see it myself - the pants I'm wearing right now are sagging at the waist, and I have to roll them twice because they mysteriously got too long.
Then I took the flat tire to Mavis. They were willing to plug the hole (it was exactly on the line between tread and sidewall) but strongly recommended against it. Given that if it blew, it would happen suddenly, on the road, and I'd have to change it myself, probably at night, I waffled. (I need someone I can call when crap like that happens. Another reason to expand beyond elderly female friends and Roman. I can't get help from them.) I had bought the tires on sale, and had got like 30% off, so I asked if they'd sell me another tire at the same price as the original, and they said yes, so that's what I did.
** On the expanding contacts front, I forgot to mention what I did at the volunteer fair on Saturday. I signed up for RSVP (Retired Seniors Volunteer Program), where they farm folks out where needed, and a program where you advocate for children in family court cases (which really interests me, but it could be too consuming, we'll see), and Habitat for Humanity. **
By the time I'd made a couple more stops, it was after 5 pm. Blew the whole day again.
During the evening, Netscape mysteriously fixed itself. I'm beginning to think the problem was not with Netscape, but with the folks I dial into. The line had dropped before I left the house, and when I got home and dialed in again, and tried Netscape, everything was just hunky-dory.
I don't understand.
Something went wrong with my Netscape this morning. I could get to websites, but I couldn't click on any links in pages and expect to go anywhere. Like, nothing happened. Which wouldn't have been so very bad, except that I had some bills and other stuff that HAD to be done online TODAY.
I shut Netscape down and tried to bring it back up, and it wouldn't start again at all. So I went to Explorer, and that worked, but then I discovered that with pure Explorer, I had no bookmarks, and no automatically filled in passwords. Ack! I'm supposed to know this stuff?
AOL was no help - no bookmarks (not the businessy ones), Internet through AOL is slow, and navigation is painful. (Note to self - when I finally get a working printer, print off the flippin' bookmarks list.)
So what with trying to figure out what went wrong, searching for updates, shutting down and restarting (believe it or not, IPLing this dog takes at least 12 minutes), digging up website names and passwords, it took me four hours to simply transfer money to pay the car insurance, and paying it.
That used up the morning.
Afternoon, I stopped by the spa to pay for this month, and get weighed and measured. Even though I hadn't been in there in more than two weeks because of the basement work and other scheduling problems, I have lost more weight and more inches. I can see it myself - the pants I'm wearing right now are sagging at the waist, and I have to roll them twice because they mysteriously got too long.
Then I took the flat tire to Mavis. They were willing to plug the hole (it was exactly on the line between tread and sidewall) but strongly recommended against it. Given that if it blew, it would happen suddenly, on the road, and I'd have to change it myself, probably at night, I waffled. (I need someone I can call when crap like that happens. Another reason to expand beyond elderly female friends and Roman. I can't get help from them.) I had bought the tires on sale, and had got like 30% off, so I asked if they'd sell me another tire at the same price as the original, and they said yes, so that's what I did.
** On the expanding contacts front, I forgot to mention what I did at the volunteer fair on Saturday. I signed up for RSVP (Retired Seniors Volunteer Program), where they farm folks out where needed, and a program where you advocate for children in family court cases (which really interests me, but it could be too consuming, we'll see), and Habitat for Humanity. **
By the time I'd made a couple more stops, it was after 5 pm. Blew the whole day again.
During the evening, Netscape mysteriously fixed itself. I'm beginning to think the problem was not with Netscape, but with the folks I dial into. The line had dropped before I left the house, and when I got home and dialed in again, and tried Netscape, everything was just hunky-dory.
I don't understand.
Sunday, April 02, 2006
#626 Flat Tire, Flat Day, Flat Blah
Remember those new tires I bought three months minus two days ago? The ones where I didn't buy the extended warranty, because it cost as much as a new tire and I couldn't see that I'd really need it? Yeah, them?
Well, I got up and dressed and out the door this morning to meet the blind date for brunch (let's call him Dreyfuss, 'cause that's who he looks sorta like), and I didn't get out of the driveway. Flat tire. Yippee. I called his cell phone and left a message, then went to work on the tire. I got the spare out (a full-sized regular tire, thank goodness), got the van up on the jack, and then got stuck. I couldn't get the hub cover off. Not without hurting it real bad. I knew darn well I wouldn't be able to get the nuts off (why oh why do they put them on so tight?). And then on a hunch I checked the pressure in the spare - 15 psi. Should be 35. Razzelfrats! I gave up and called the Hairless Hunk.
He said he'd be over as soon as his wife got back from Poughkeepsie, about two hours. So I stayed by the phone in case he called. Six hours later.... The tire has a nice big nail in it, right in the side kind of between the tread and the sidewall, like where the tread is on its way to becoming sidewall. So the regular warranty won't apply. The Hunk says that Mavis isn't going to want to plug it because they'll say it's sidewall, but that I should argue with them and insist it's tread. If I win and they plug it, I should have them put that tire on the rear, and move the rear tire to the front (it's front-wheel drive).
My original plan for the day was to meet Dreyfuss in the morning, be home by early afternoon and work in the basement. I want to sweep and clean, and rearrange what's left down there so I can start moving storage containers down from upstairs. Rain is predicted for the next two days, and Roman is visiting Tuesday, and I wanted to be able to demonstrate SOME progress. So it looks like most of that got blown, too.
After The Hunk left, I called Dreyfuss. He never got the message I'd left on his phone. He said he had two messages, but mine wasn't one of them. So he thought he got stood up. Sheesh. I don't know whether he believes me about the tire or not. Three non-Roman dates in the past two months, and I've managed to piss all of them off, and all of it because of outside influences. Is Fate trying to tell me something? So, anyway, we've rescheduled for next Sunday.
To tell the truth, I don't really want to meet this guy, but I feel like I have to. I need to spread out and check out all the available local manpower. Otherwise I'm putting all my energy on Roman, and then when he doesn't call for a week, or has no time for me for two weeks, that makes me sad. And mad, because I feel like I'm wasting time. There isn't all that much time left. Women lose value fast. I do understand his class schedule makes things difficult. He wants me to wait, but mostly I don't feel like he's trying very hard. Maybe he is, but I'm not seeing it.
I need to feel like I'm trying, at least. Like I'm taking care of myself and my future, and not just wasting time. But it's probably an empty exercise, because I know who I want. At the same time, I need some appreciation. I want someone to flatter and pursue me. I need some validation. On the other hand, I am very much afraid that one of these new guys is going to develop a crush on me and I won't be able to get rid of him, and he will accuse me of toying with his affections, and that will hurt me, because ---- he'd be right. Maybe I'm not ready for this yet. I don't know.
Off to the basement. At least it's been warm lately. The daffodils have started blooming, and the underbrush in the woods is sprouting leaves. A pair of finches have taken over the porch light, and they seem very happy and excited. They sing and chirp to each other constantly, and they're never more than three feet apart. Spring love.
Sigh.
Well, I got up and dressed and out the door this morning to meet the blind date for brunch (let's call him Dreyfuss, 'cause that's who he looks sorta like), and I didn't get out of the driveway. Flat tire. Yippee. I called his cell phone and left a message, then went to work on the tire. I got the spare out (a full-sized regular tire, thank goodness), got the van up on the jack, and then got stuck. I couldn't get the hub cover off. Not without hurting it real bad. I knew darn well I wouldn't be able to get the nuts off (why oh why do they put them on so tight?). And then on a hunch I checked the pressure in the spare - 15 psi. Should be 35. Razzelfrats! I gave up and called the Hairless Hunk.
He said he'd be over as soon as his wife got back from Poughkeepsie, about two hours. So I stayed by the phone in case he called. Six hours later.... The tire has a nice big nail in it, right in the side kind of between the tread and the sidewall, like where the tread is on its way to becoming sidewall. So the regular warranty won't apply. The Hunk says that Mavis isn't going to want to plug it because they'll say it's sidewall, but that I should argue with them and insist it's tread. If I win and they plug it, I should have them put that tire on the rear, and move the rear tire to the front (it's front-wheel drive).
My original plan for the day was to meet Dreyfuss in the morning, be home by early afternoon and work in the basement. I want to sweep and clean, and rearrange what's left down there so I can start moving storage containers down from upstairs. Rain is predicted for the next two days, and Roman is visiting Tuesday, and I wanted to be able to demonstrate SOME progress. So it looks like most of that got blown, too.
After The Hunk left, I called Dreyfuss. He never got the message I'd left on his phone. He said he had two messages, but mine wasn't one of them. So he thought he got stood up. Sheesh. I don't know whether he believes me about the tire or not. Three non-Roman dates in the past two months, and I've managed to piss all of them off, and all of it because of outside influences. Is Fate trying to tell me something? So, anyway, we've rescheduled for next Sunday.
To tell the truth, I don't really want to meet this guy, but I feel like I have to. I need to spread out and check out all the available local manpower. Otherwise I'm putting all my energy on Roman, and then when he doesn't call for a week, or has no time for me for two weeks, that makes me sad. And mad, because I feel like I'm wasting time. There isn't all that much time left. Women lose value fast. I do understand his class schedule makes things difficult. He wants me to wait, but mostly I don't feel like he's trying very hard. Maybe he is, but I'm not seeing it.
I need to feel like I'm trying, at least. Like I'm taking care of myself and my future, and not just wasting time. But it's probably an empty exercise, because I know who I want. At the same time, I need some appreciation. I want someone to flatter and pursue me. I need some validation. On the other hand, I am very much afraid that one of these new guys is going to develop a crush on me and I won't be able to get rid of him, and he will accuse me of toying with his affections, and that will hurt me, because ---- he'd be right. Maybe I'm not ready for this yet. I don't know.
Off to the basement. At least it's been warm lately. The daffodils have started blooming, and the underbrush in the woods is sprouting leaves. A pair of finches have taken over the porch light, and they seem very happy and excited. They sing and chirp to each other constantly, and they're never more than three feet apart. Spring love.
Sigh.
Saturday, April 01, 2006
#625 Mud
I worked like a dog yesterday afternoon and last night after dark getting the last few heavy things out of the basement. Rain was predicted for today, and when the hill is wet, I can't get the handtruck or the cart up the hill, because my feet keep slipping in the mud. Week before last I went to my knees several times.
The container is now almost full. Just enough room left for the dead humidifiers, and a few handfuls of trash.
There's some kind of volunteer fair going on at the mall today, so I want to visit that. Tomorrow I am having brunch with a new friend, at his daughter's deli. Should be interesting. I hope it at least makes up for the other blind date I blew off for tomorrow. He got very indignant when I wouldn't/couldn't tell him why I wouldn't/couldn't go where he wanted to go. I probably won't hear from him again, but that's probably for the best.
Sigh.
The container is now almost full. Just enough room left for the dead humidifiers, and a few handfuls of trash.
There's some kind of volunteer fair going on at the mall today, so I want to visit that. Tomorrow I am having brunch with a new friend, at his daughter's deli. Should be interesting. I hope it at least makes up for the other blind date I blew off for tomorrow. He got very indignant when I wouldn't/couldn't tell him why I wouldn't/couldn't go where he wanted to go. I probably won't hear from him again, but that's probably for the best.
Sigh.
Friday, March 31, 2006
#624 Quick Friday
Had lunch with Piper today. Good conversation. Too bad there's no chemistry. Sigh.
I forgot to mention something from yesterday. I had not planned to open any of the eight huge boxes Jay had dragged home from the office when he left The Company. I had planned to simply load them onto the hand truck and take them out. But they were stacked four-high, and they were so heavy I couldn't even shift them on the stack to knock them to the floor where I could get the truck under them. So I ended up opening them and transferring handfuls of manuals to another smaller box roped to the hand truck.
I'm glad I did.
When Jay and I were "courting", I used to slip funny or romantic cards or notes under his office door when he wasn't in. After we were married, I'd slip cards or notes into his pockets, or briefcase, or into stacks of papers he was going to take to the office, so he'd find them by accident at some random moment.
In one of the office boxes, I found all those cards and notes.
I forgot to mention something from yesterday. I had not planned to open any of the eight huge boxes Jay had dragged home from the office when he left The Company. I had planned to simply load them onto the hand truck and take them out. But they were stacked four-high, and they were so heavy I couldn't even shift them on the stack to knock them to the floor where I could get the truck under them. So I ended up opening them and transferring handfuls of manuals to another smaller box roped to the hand truck.
I'm glad I did.
When Jay and I were "courting", I used to slip funny or romantic cards or notes under his office door when he wasn't in. After we were married, I'd slip cards or notes into his pockets, or briefcase, or into stacks of papers he was going to take to the office, so he'd find them by accident at some random moment.
In one of the office boxes, I found all those cards and notes.
Thursday, March 30, 2006
#623 Um, Well, Thursday
More time in the basement today. My back wasn't too happy about yesterday, so I took it kind of easy. The hauling company hasn't called yet asking when they can get their container back, so I didn't call them, either. There's lots more stuff to go in, and if I can keep it over the weekend, I want to.
I went through three moving company wardrobe boxes today, and have bundled more than 50 shirts in perfect condition (dress, casual, western, cotton flannel, wool flannel, and a few pullovers) for donation. Also three sportscoats (one 100% silk) with the tags still on them, and one suit. There's also a beautiful imported Harris tweed sportscoat which I have set aside. I'd rather give that one to someone I know. I'm not sure of the size, I suspect it was custom made on one of Jay's trips to Britain, so there wouldn't be a size tag, but I'm sure whatever size it is, it's a "tall". I don't know any especially tall men right now.
I don't know why after moving from Texas to New York Jay never unpacked those boxes. The shirts are all 16 1/2 to 17, which is the size he wore when I knew him. More oddly, in all the boxes of clothes down there, there are no pants, except those with suits. Odd because the pants were what he is most likely to have outgrown. He was skinny in Texas. He grew a little potbelly in New York. Very strange.
I have to get something to eat now. All I ate yesterday was a granola bar, and some carrot sticks. When I'm working, I don't feel hunger. Nothing at all yet today, and now that I've stopped working, I'm suddenly starving. I've got those "bagged" meals in the freezer. I think I might cook up a whole bag, and eat until I'm full.
I went through three moving company wardrobe boxes today, and have bundled more than 50 shirts in perfect condition (dress, casual, western, cotton flannel, wool flannel, and a few pullovers) for donation. Also three sportscoats (one 100% silk) with the tags still on them, and one suit. There's also a beautiful imported Harris tweed sportscoat which I have set aside. I'd rather give that one to someone I know. I'm not sure of the size, I suspect it was custom made on one of Jay's trips to Britain, so there wouldn't be a size tag, but I'm sure whatever size it is, it's a "tall". I don't know any especially tall men right now.
I don't know why after moving from Texas to New York Jay never unpacked those boxes. The shirts are all 16 1/2 to 17, which is the size he wore when I knew him. More oddly, in all the boxes of clothes down there, there are no pants, except those with suits. Odd because the pants were what he is most likely to have outgrown. He was skinny in Texas. He grew a little potbelly in New York. Very strange.
I have to get something to eat now. All I ate yesterday was a granola bar, and some carrot sticks. When I'm working, I don't feel hunger. Nothing at all yet today, and now that I've stopped working, I'm suddenly starving. I've got those "bagged" meals in the freezer. I think I might cook up a whole bag, and eat until I'm full.
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
#622 Basement Progress
Six hours in the basement this afternoon. I cut up five mattress boxes, moved out a huge recliner and a small sofa bed, a 70s-era "bar", a huge Mylar and wood box kite, the remainder of the 9-foot Christmas tree, a twin mattress, and seven more large boxes of computer manuals (mostly AIX), among other things. Today was definitely a hand-truck day.
I was surprised to find, in one of the boxes Jay had brought home from his office, twenty-five large reels of computer tape - you know how they used to indicate computers in old movies by showing the refrigerator-sized tape drives? Yeah, those tapes. Some were so old they were in the old "piekeeper" covers. There were also a gazillion mini-reels. And what must be one of the earliest floppy disks. It's about 9 inches square.
Nostalgia.
I'm going to keep the floppy and one of the oldest tape reels.
I was surprised to find, in one of the boxes Jay had brought home from his office, twenty-five large reels of computer tape - you know how they used to indicate computers in old movies by showing the refrigerator-sized tape drives? Yeah, those tapes. Some were so old they were in the old "piekeeper" covers. There were also a gazillion mini-reels. And what must be one of the earliest floppy disks. It's about 9 inches square.
Nostalgia.
I'm going to keep the floppy and one of the oldest tape reels.
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
#620 Tax Time
Late entry today - sorry, Daughter.
I spent the entire morning and afternoon pulling documents together for The Angel to do my taxes. First I couldn't find the 2004 taxes, finally found them filed in the wrong folder. Then I discovered to my horror that three 2005 1099-DIVs and one 1099-INT were missing. I had to go online to the company websites, get into my accounts (not easy), and reconstruct the dividend payments. Then I paper clipped everything together in batches, with covers describing and totaling each batch. Putting together the receipts for the 2005 estimated tax payments, I discovered that the amount that New York State has reported to the IRS as my 2004 state tax refund does not match the amount of refund on the filed form. I have no idea why it's different.
Something else very strange happened.
There was a huge stack of paper on the desk, and I pulled the desk chair out, turned it slightly, sat in it, and sorted the papers into five stacks on the floor: 1) bills to pay, 2) tax stuff, 3) investment stuff, 4) to be filed, and 5) trash. Along the way I found a letter saying that AT&T had purchased SBC, and that my SBC stock certificates did not have to be turned in, they were now effectively AT&T stock. I thought "Oh, I should note this in the online portfolio, next time I edit it", and I put the letter into one of the stacks - either the "to file" one, or more likely the investment one so I'd be sure to see it later, or maybe the "bills to pay" stack, since it was a "to do" item. I don't remember. Note that from the time I picked up the paper until I put it on a pile, I did not leave the chair.
An hour later, when I was trying to rebuild the 1099-DIVs, I figured then was a good time to update the portfolio listing to reflect the AT&T/SBC buyout.
Do you think I could find that letter? I went through every one of those five piles, each piece of paper individually, and that letter simply isn't there! Anywhere! It has disappeared. I wonder if maybe I somehow stapled it into one of those batches I subsequently delivered to The Angel.
I went to a Mensa dinner at a Thai restaurant in Beacon this evening. I like Thai food, but I think I need help ordering. I should have just got the Pad Thai, it looked really good, but I got fancy and ordered the Twice-Cooked Beef (a "special"), and it was like a whole pile of bits of salty beef jerky. Next time, I'll have to remind myself it's the veggies and the sauces I like, so I should stick to things with lots of that, and forget the meats.
Tired. Goodnight.
I spent the entire morning and afternoon pulling documents together for The Angel to do my taxes. First I couldn't find the 2004 taxes, finally found them filed in the wrong folder. Then I discovered to my horror that three 2005 1099-DIVs and one 1099-INT were missing. I had to go online to the company websites, get into my accounts (not easy), and reconstruct the dividend payments. Then I paper clipped everything together in batches, with covers describing and totaling each batch. Putting together the receipts for the 2005 estimated tax payments, I discovered that the amount that New York State has reported to the IRS as my 2004 state tax refund does not match the amount of refund on the filed form. I have no idea why it's different.
Something else very strange happened.
There was a huge stack of paper on the desk, and I pulled the desk chair out, turned it slightly, sat in it, and sorted the papers into five stacks on the floor: 1) bills to pay, 2) tax stuff, 3) investment stuff, 4) to be filed, and 5) trash. Along the way I found a letter saying that AT&T had purchased SBC, and that my SBC stock certificates did not have to be turned in, they were now effectively AT&T stock. I thought "Oh, I should note this in the online portfolio, next time I edit it", and I put the letter into one of the stacks - either the "to file" one, or more likely the investment one so I'd be sure to see it later, or maybe the "bills to pay" stack, since it was a "to do" item. I don't remember. Note that from the time I picked up the paper until I put it on a pile, I did not leave the chair.
An hour later, when I was trying to rebuild the 1099-DIVs, I figured then was a good time to update the portfolio listing to reflect the AT&T/SBC buyout.
Do you think I could find that letter? I went through every one of those five piles, each piece of paper individually, and that letter simply isn't there! Anywhere! It has disappeared. I wonder if maybe I somehow stapled it into one of those batches I subsequently delivered to The Angel.
I went to a Mensa dinner at a Thai restaurant in Beacon this evening. I like Thai food, but I think I need help ordering. I should have just got the Pad Thai, it looked really good, but I got fancy and ordered the Twice-Cooked Beef (a "special"), and it was like a whole pile of bits of salty beef jerky. Next time, I'll have to remind myself it's the veggies and the sauces I like, so I should stick to things with lots of that, and forget the meats.
Tired. Goodnight.
Monday, March 27, 2006
#619 I Need a hurricane
03/27/06
I got a shock today.
I had plans to do a lot of stuff on the house this year and next. I absolutely must replace the roof shingles, because they're curled and lifting, and there are leaks in three places. I want to resurface the driveway, because it's cracking, and sinking in several spots. I need to replace the deck - it's over 20 years old, made of treated lumber, and was never sealed, so at this point it's almost dangerous. I want to have the siding washed. It's dirty and moldy where vines had grown up it. And then sometime soon, a year or two or three, I want to have half the basement finished, with a lounge with wood stove, another bedroom, a sewing room, and a spectacular bathroom with a whirlpool.
The roof is the first priority. I don't know where I got the idea, but I thought it would cost maybe up to $5,000 at the very most, likely less. I've got that much saved up to do it. What's up there now is architectural shingles, very thick and made to look like cedar shingles. And they're lifting, curling, and buckling. Unfortunately, they are too thick to shingle over, and have to be removed before the new layer goes up. I asked for an estimate to replace them with the same type.
The Hunk says I have a big roof. It comes to "40 squares" (a square being 10x10 sections (feet?))
Materials cost will be $4,300, for 30-year architectural shingles and weatherproof underlining around the edges.
Labor will be $12,000.
Let me repeat that -- $12,000 labor.
(However, he also said something about $150 per square, which comes to $6,000, not $12,000. Did I misunderstand? Or is it $6,000 to remove and $6,000 to apply?)
Assuming no misunderstanding, that's, um, $16,300 total.
Actually higher, because I need something called a "cricket" built on the upside of the chimney to prevent future leak problems. He didn't figure that in.
Ack!
I got a shock today.
I had plans to do a lot of stuff on the house this year and next. I absolutely must replace the roof shingles, because they're curled and lifting, and there are leaks in three places. I want to resurface the driveway, because it's cracking, and sinking in several spots. I need to replace the deck - it's over 20 years old, made of treated lumber, and was never sealed, so at this point it's almost dangerous. I want to have the siding washed. It's dirty and moldy where vines had grown up it. And then sometime soon, a year or two or three, I want to have half the basement finished, with a lounge with wood stove, another bedroom, a sewing room, and a spectacular bathroom with a whirlpool.
The roof is the first priority. I don't know where I got the idea, but I thought it would cost maybe up to $5,000 at the very most, likely less. I've got that much saved up to do it. What's up there now is architectural shingles, very thick and made to look like cedar shingles. And they're lifting, curling, and buckling. Unfortunately, they are too thick to shingle over, and have to be removed before the new layer goes up. I asked for an estimate to replace them with the same type.
The Hunk says I have a big roof. It comes to "40 squares" (a square being 10x10 sections (feet?))
Materials cost will be $4,300, for 30-year architectural shingles and weatherproof underlining around the edges.
Labor will be $12,000.
Let me repeat that -- $12,000 labor.
(However, he also said something about $150 per square, which comes to $6,000, not $12,000. Did I misunderstand? Or is it $6,000 to remove and $6,000 to apply?)
Assuming no misunderstanding, that's, um, $16,300 total.
Actually higher, because I need something called a "cricket" built on the upside of the chimney to prevent future leak problems. He didn't figure that in.
Ack!
Sunday, March 26, 2006
#618 Going Postal
Surprise. According to today's Kingston Freeman newspaper, "Neither snow, nor rain, nor heat, nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds" is NOT the motto of the US Postal Service. The US Postal Service, in fact, has no official motto. Turns out the words were written by the Greek historian Herodotus, describing the couriers who carried military orders during the war between Greece and Persia. Apparently it was the independent decision of the architect to add it to the (1913) facade of the James Farley Central Post Office on Eighth Avenue in Manhattan. Just decoration.
This little gem was in an article about how the local PO in Kingston is requiring that city addresses must begin using curbside mailboxes, just like us country folks, so that the mail carriers can shorten their routes by not having to walk up to every door, and can deliver the mail faster. Money-saving measure. No mention was made of delivering by vehicle.
I'm confused. The photographs accompanying the article show the (standard rural) mailboxes right up against the curb, facing the street. Now, if the carriers are still delivering on foot, wouldn't it make sense for the mailboxes to be at the edge of the lawns, facing the sidewalk, or between the sidewalk and the curb, facing in? If the carriers are delivering by vehicle, uh, does this mean no one can park on the street any more? Out here in the countryside, there's plenty of room between mailboxes, and nobody much parks on the roads anyway. But in the city, almost everybody parks on the street, and there's very little space between the mailboxes. The article didn't explain it.
Won't this enormously increase vandalism and mail theft temptation?
I don't understand.
This little gem was in an article about how the local PO in Kingston is requiring that city addresses must begin using curbside mailboxes, just like us country folks, so that the mail carriers can shorten their routes by not having to walk up to every door, and can deliver the mail faster. Money-saving measure. No mention was made of delivering by vehicle.
I'm confused. The photographs accompanying the article show the (standard rural) mailboxes right up against the curb, facing the street. Now, if the carriers are still delivering on foot, wouldn't it make sense for the mailboxes to be at the edge of the lawns, facing the sidewalk, or between the sidewalk and the curb, facing in? If the carriers are delivering by vehicle, uh, does this mean no one can park on the street any more? Out here in the countryside, there's plenty of room between mailboxes, and nobody much parks on the roads anyway. But in the city, almost everybody parks on the street, and there's very little space between the mailboxes. The article didn't explain it.
Won't this enormously increase vandalism and mail theft temptation?
I don't understand.
#617 Hibernian High
I spent much of today at the Lions Club Expo at the Hudson Valley Mall. All I bought was some socks at PayLess, but I had a good time visiting all the booths. Some were commercial, some were charities, some were government services, and a few were political.
I looked at a tiny RV, and I want one! Even for just weekend jaunts it would be so handy. I also picked up cards for a dog training club, driveway repair, stonework, sunrooms, and antique furniture restoration, and some information from the group fighting the plans to build thousands of condominiums on the Hudson just north of East Kingston. That really bothers me, too, for a lot of reasons. I ate late lunch / early supper at the Coyote Grill.
But mainly I went to see the Ancient Order of Hibernians Pipe & Drum Band. They performed on stage in the food court at 3:30, but then they marched throughout the mall, stopping and forming a circle at every open space to play some more. I LOVE bagpipes. I've loved them forever. Must be something in the genes. This group used to practice on Sundays in a garage someplace in Ulster, across the river and at least 13 "crow" miles from here, and because of the arrangement of the mountains, I could hear them clearly in my house. I used to sit on the deck to listen to them. That was back in the late 90s. They practice somewhere else now. I've missed them.
There were 10 today - 7 pipers and three drummers, seven women and three men. Two of the three drummers were women, and they were really good, they did the twirling and flourishing and spinning of the sticks (are they still called drumsticks when they have big fuzzy ends?).
Daughter, something I would really like - when my ashes are scattered, it would be nice to have one piper uphill, and one downhill, doing that haunting thing where they play back and forth. Of course I might not hear it, but it would still be nice. I'm sure there are some pipers in Scranton or Wilkes Barre. I'll bet any police or fire department will know of some. And don't ask permission of the park. Just do it. Give the other hikers a thrill.
-----------------------------------
Dirty Dave is putting all of his old photos on disk, and he just a few minutes ago sent me some he'd found of me. The following are probably from the mid-to-late 80's, a Mensa outing. ( Could I have found a less attractive outfit? Maybe a sack tied in the middle?) I'd almost forgotten how thick my hair used to be. But I do remember that I'm no better with a boomerang than with a Frisbee. Duck!
I looked at a tiny RV, and I want one! Even for just weekend jaunts it would be so handy. I also picked up cards for a dog training club, driveway repair, stonework, sunrooms, and antique furniture restoration, and some information from the group fighting the plans to build thousands of condominiums on the Hudson just north of East Kingston. That really bothers me, too, for a lot of reasons. I ate late lunch / early supper at the Coyote Grill.
But mainly I went to see the Ancient Order of Hibernians Pipe & Drum Band. They performed on stage in the food court at 3:30, but then they marched throughout the mall, stopping and forming a circle at every open space to play some more. I LOVE bagpipes. I've loved them forever. Must be something in the genes. This group used to practice on Sundays in a garage someplace in Ulster, across the river and at least 13 "crow" miles from here, and because of the arrangement of the mountains, I could hear them clearly in my house. I used to sit on the deck to listen to them. That was back in the late 90s. They practice somewhere else now. I've missed them.
There were 10 today - 7 pipers and three drummers, seven women and three men. Two of the three drummers were women, and they were really good, they did the twirling and flourishing and spinning of the sticks (are they still called drumsticks when they have big fuzzy ends?).
Daughter, something I would really like - when my ashes are scattered, it would be nice to have one piper uphill, and one downhill, doing that haunting thing where they play back and forth. Of course I might not hear it, but it would still be nice. I'm sure there are some pipers in Scranton or Wilkes Barre. I'll bet any police or fire department will know of some. And don't ask permission of the park. Just do it. Give the other hikers a thrill.
-----------------------------------
Dirty Dave is putting all of his old photos on disk, and he just a few minutes ago sent me some he'd found of me. The following are probably from the mid-to-late 80's, a Mensa outing. ( Could I have found a less attractive outfit? Maybe a sack tied in the middle?) I'd almost forgotten how thick my hair used to be. But I do remember that I'm no better with a boomerang than with a Frisbee. Duck!
Saturday, March 25, 2006
#616 Questions 23 to 26
03/25/06
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.)
23. While on a trip to another city, your spouse (or lover) meets and spends a night with an exciting stranger. Given that they will never meet again, and that you will not otherwise learn of the incident, would you want your partner to tell you about it? If roles were reversed, would you reveal what you had done?
I hate this question. I wish things were always so minor. Go away.
24. Are there people you envy enough to want to trade places with them? Who are they?
Well, I envy rich folks with all kinds of household help and the way always smoothed for them. And folks with lots of friends and involvements. And folks with large close happy families. But I'm not sure I'd want to trade places with them, because all that nice stuff comes with responsibilities and requirements and compromises that I'm not sure I want, not sure I could handle. I feel like all that nice stuff requires that I give up some of myself, and I am very self-protective. I guess it's because the way my life has gone thus far, the tradeoffs haven't seemed worth it. Disfunctional family, bad choices in friends, whatever. All I want is love and peace and quiet.
25. For an all-expense-paid, one-week vacation anywhere in the world, would you be willing to kill a beautiful butterfly by pulling off its wings? What about stepping on a cockroach?
Why the implied difference? Is a butterfly more valuable than a cockroach? Is beauty valid criteria? If so, should we apply that criteria to people, too? Is pulling off wings worse than stepping on? (Well, maybe. I'll give you that one. Torture, and all.) What's really weird is that if the cockroach were running across my kitchen floor I wouldn't hesitate to stomp on it, for free. But if someone put a captive roach in front of me and said stomp on this and get money, then I'd hesitate. Like the first cockroach is "guilty", and the second is "innocent". Weird, huh? But, in the end, I'd probably do both. To poor innocent insects. And I'd hate myself, and spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to bugs. Well, a while, anyway.
26. Would you be able to murder an innocent person if it would end hunger in the world?
Ho. So if I'd kill a bug for a vacation, would I kill a person for the world? First I'd have to decide whether ending hunger in the world is such a good idea. That's an even bigger question, a tougher question, than the one posed. Starvation is a natural population control. Even if you could redistribute populations by moving folks from overcrowded areas to wilderness areas, with adequate food supplies after a while the wilderness areas would start getting overcrowded. There would then have to be an increase in war or disease, otherwise the Earth itself dies. The alternate way to really end hunger in the world would be to kill all the excess people who live in areas that can't support them. So the way I see it, killing one person to end hunger would have to eventually result in the deaths of many more people, most of whom didn't contribute to the problem - "innocents", too. And probably even more of them than now die of starvation. Nah. I'd pass. But not for the reason you expected.
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.)
23. While on a trip to another city, your spouse (or lover) meets and spends a night with an exciting stranger. Given that they will never meet again, and that you will not otherwise learn of the incident, would you want your partner to tell you about it? If roles were reversed, would you reveal what you had done?
I hate this question. I wish things were always so minor. Go away.
24. Are there people you envy enough to want to trade places with them? Who are they?
Well, I envy rich folks with all kinds of household help and the way always smoothed for them. And folks with lots of friends and involvements. And folks with large close happy families. But I'm not sure I'd want to trade places with them, because all that nice stuff comes with responsibilities and requirements and compromises that I'm not sure I want, not sure I could handle. I feel like all that nice stuff requires that I give up some of myself, and I am very self-protective. I guess it's because the way my life has gone thus far, the tradeoffs haven't seemed worth it. Disfunctional family, bad choices in friends, whatever. All I want is love and peace and quiet.
25. For an all-expense-paid, one-week vacation anywhere in the world, would you be willing to kill a beautiful butterfly by pulling off its wings? What about stepping on a cockroach?
Why the implied difference? Is a butterfly more valuable than a cockroach? Is beauty valid criteria? If so, should we apply that criteria to people, too? Is pulling off wings worse than stepping on? (Well, maybe. I'll give you that one. Torture, and all.) What's really weird is that if the cockroach were running across my kitchen floor I wouldn't hesitate to stomp on it, for free. But if someone put a captive roach in front of me and said stomp on this and get money, then I'd hesitate. Like the first cockroach is "guilty", and the second is "innocent". Weird, huh? But, in the end, I'd probably do both. To poor innocent insects. And I'd hate myself, and spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to bugs. Well, a while, anyway.
26. Would you be able to murder an innocent person if it would end hunger in the world?
Ho. So if I'd kill a bug for a vacation, would I kill a person for the world? First I'd have to decide whether ending hunger in the world is such a good idea. That's an even bigger question, a tougher question, than the one posed. Starvation is a natural population control. Even if you could redistribute populations by moving folks from overcrowded areas to wilderness areas, with adequate food supplies after a while the wilderness areas would start getting overcrowded. There would then have to be an increase in war or disease, otherwise the Earth itself dies. The alternate way to really end hunger in the world would be to kill all the excess people who live in areas that can't support them. So the way I see it, killing one person to end hunger would have to eventually result in the deaths of many more people, most of whom didn't contribute to the problem - "innocents", too. And probably even more of them than now die of starvation. Nah. I'd pass. But not for the reason you expected.
#615 Sharper Than a Serpent's Tooth
03/25/06
Francois de La Rochefoucauld: "He who lives without folly isn't so wise as he thinks."
I got up and washed and dressed, and was already to go to the multicultural festival in Pine Hill, when something told me I should check the map. Yup. I got Pine Hill confused with Pine Plains. Pine Plains is reasonable. Pine Hill is not. So, no go.
Instead, I decided it was finally time to get rid of all the sharps left from when I was giving Jay Neupogen and anti-clotting stuff. (And I was good at it - the nurses always left bruises on his belly when they did it, and I rarely did. In fact, in the rehab centers, they actually allowed me to do it, very much against the rules.) So I went to the local hospital supply pharmacy and bought a special bio-hazard disposal container, transferred the syringes from the puncture-proof container I had been using to it, and then went looking for someplace that would take them. The nursing homes and hospitals have special days and times for dropoff, but rather than go home and call around, I just headed for the nearest hospital. The woman at the information desk called security, and an old man with a badge took them, right then and there, no questions asked.
That "no questions asked" sounds good, but since they ask no questions, they seem to assume the worst, like I'm an addict or something. I wonder if people who take insulin get treated so curtly.
I was invited to a "literary afternoon" next weekend - lunch, followed by a "reading", then a used-bookstore crawl. I had accepted, but this morning I found out where it was and I had to back out. One of the readers is someone I can't be around right now. I can't explain further, but since this functions as a diary for me, I wanted to memorialize the day I made this decision. Someday I may regret it. I'm already feeling torn about it. Going to it, even with a date, would certainly take an axe to my biggest problem these days, and I'm not quite ready for that yet. But maybe I should. I hate this.
This is also the second "blind date" attempt I've broken with this guy. I have a feeling I won't get another chance.
Back to the basement. I've got another container to fill.
Francois de La Rochefoucauld: "He who lives without folly isn't so wise as he thinks."
I got up and washed and dressed, and was already to go to the multicultural festival in Pine Hill, when something told me I should check the map. Yup. I got Pine Hill confused with Pine Plains. Pine Plains is reasonable. Pine Hill is not. So, no go.
Instead, I decided it was finally time to get rid of all the sharps left from when I was giving Jay Neupogen and anti-clotting stuff. (And I was good at it - the nurses always left bruises on his belly when they did it, and I rarely did. In fact, in the rehab centers, they actually allowed me to do it, very much against the rules.) So I went to the local hospital supply pharmacy and bought a special bio-hazard disposal container, transferred the syringes from the puncture-proof container I had been using to it, and then went looking for someplace that would take them. The nursing homes and hospitals have special days and times for dropoff, but rather than go home and call around, I just headed for the nearest hospital. The woman at the information desk called security, and an old man with a badge took them, right then and there, no questions asked.
That "no questions asked" sounds good, but since they ask no questions, they seem to assume the worst, like I'm an addict or something. I wonder if people who take insulin get treated so curtly.
I was invited to a "literary afternoon" next weekend - lunch, followed by a "reading", then a used-bookstore crawl. I had accepted, but this morning I found out where it was and I had to back out. One of the readers is someone I can't be around right now. I can't explain further, but since this functions as a diary for me, I wanted to memorialize the day I made this decision. Someday I may regret it. I'm already feeling torn about it. Going to it, even with a date, would certainly take an axe to my biggest problem these days, and I'm not quite ready for that yet. But maybe I should. I hate this.
This is also the second "blind date" attempt I've broken with this guy. I have a feeling I won't get another chance.
Back to the basement. I've got another container to fill.
Friday, March 24, 2006
#614 A Lost Day
I don't know what happened to today. It completely disappeared.
In the interests of paper-control, I have a new rule - all previous issues of magazines, newspapers, and newsletters will be thrown out when the next issue arrives, whether it has been read or not. So far it looks like it will work to make paper litter disappear, but it also looks like it could make days disappear, when three magazines and a newspaper arrive all in one day. I guess I'll have to learn to space them out a bit.
Odd, but I was very hungry today, and nothing seemed to satisfy me. There must be something I'm craving, some mineral or vitamin, some texture or flavor, and I can't identify it. I feel like I'm starving, and I stand and look in the pantry, the freezer, the refrigerator, and there's nothing there I want. In fact, most of it I actively don't want. I've been drinking a lot of water, and I still feel thirsty. (I always drink a lot of fluids, and it's rare for me to feel thirst.) Maybe it's salt. I'll lick some before I go to bed.
(It could also be that I haven't been hugged or kissed thoroughly enough in two weeks. When I think "What do I want, what do I want?" that's what I keep coming up with.)
To bed early tonight. Multi-cultural fair in Pine Hill tomorrow. I may, or may not, decide to go. I might feel more like filling the dumpster. But I may as well be rested, either way.
In the interests of paper-control, I have a new rule - all previous issues of magazines, newspapers, and newsletters will be thrown out when the next issue arrives, whether it has been read or not. So far it looks like it will work to make paper litter disappear, but it also looks like it could make days disappear, when three magazines and a newspaper arrive all in one day. I guess I'll have to learn to space them out a bit.
Odd, but I was very hungry today, and nothing seemed to satisfy me. There must be something I'm craving, some mineral or vitamin, some texture or flavor, and I can't identify it. I feel like I'm starving, and I stand and look in the pantry, the freezer, the refrigerator, and there's nothing there I want. In fact, most of it I actively don't want. I've been drinking a lot of water, and I still feel thirsty. (I always drink a lot of fluids, and it's rare for me to feel thirst.) Maybe it's salt. I'll lick some before I go to bed.
(It could also be that I haven't been hugged or kissed thoroughly enough in two weeks. When I think "What do I want, what do I want?" that's what I keep coming up with.)
To bed early tonight. Multi-cultural fair in Pine Hill tomorrow. I may, or may not, decide to go. I might feel more like filling the dumpster. But I may as well be rested, either way.
Thursday, March 23, 2006
#613 Over Two Tons!
Dean Koontz, Mr. Murder: "We sense that life is a dark comedy and maybe we can live with that. However, because the whole thing is written for the entertainment of the gods, too many of the jokes go right over our heads."
-----------------------------------------
The dumpster was collected, emptied, and returned early this afternoon. It was 1.5 tons of trash (mostly paper) on this trip. With the 800 pounds I got rid of a few months ago with the Hunk's trailer, and the 500 or so pounds last year, that's 4,300 pounds of trash extracted from the basement and elsewhere. I also donated 21 pairs of shoes and two large bags of clothing to the Salvation Army drop-box yesterday morning. Lots more clothing to go. There are two of those huge moving company wardrobe boxes full of Jay's shirts downstairs. I'll empty them this evening.
I didn't post yesterday. Took the day off. I had promised Roman that he'd be the first person in when the house could take company. Well, the house wasn't ready, but he was coming up this way to visit, so I decided to bite the bullet and let him in. The kitchen was still pretty cluttered, but it was a least halfway presentable. (It's halfway to where I want it to be.... At least one can see where it's going.)
He arrived about 3 pm, I showed him some of my treasures (he liked looking at my walking stick collection, and the ostrich egg, but was unimpressed by the caftan Omar Sharif wore in Hidalgo), and then we went into the village to meet with Piper. Piper is computer illiterate, and Roman is going to give him some lessons. Then we went computer shopping, just to see what exists. He's going to "build" a package for me based on my usual usage and needs. Then a long dinner at the mall, then back here. He left about 9:30. A nice evening. I hope we can do that more often. (He was appropriately impressed with the dumpster.)
I don't know if Roman is fully aware, but he is the first person AT ALL to enter this house, other than me, and the furnace service guy who got no further than the basement, in three years.
Daughter may be offended that he got in before she did. On the other hand, I wasn't informed that wedding dates were in negotiation with Hercules' mother until yesterday, so there!
Also, Daughter announced yesterday that their planned move to Pennsylvania is suddenly off. Hercules got a job offer from a company he knows well near where they now live in central NJ, which will save him several hours a day in commuting time (and costs - he had been working in the fashion district in Manhattan), so they have decided to stay where they are. On one hand, I'm happy, because they are now only 2.5 hours away, while Lancaster, where they were planning to move (Amish country), is 6 hours away. On the other hand, I dislike NJ. I'd love to see them somewhere greener, with clean air and pure water, and reasonable real estate prices.
Oh well, it'll work out. Somehow it always does. And I forgive them for talking wedding dates with the other future mother-in-law first - she teaches college in California, and her available windows of time are theoretically tighter, whereas I am theoretically perpetually free. (Although Daughter was surprised to find that I already have most of August booked solid, with events that cannot be moved, like a high school reunion and the first international Mensa convention, in Orlando, where my siblings live, so I plan to extend that stay to visit with family, too. Oops. Suddenly Mother has a life! How unexpected.)
-----------------------------------------------
Household Hint: Mineral oil. Cool stuff.
Actually, I use the gelled baby oil, easier to work with.
If you have trouble with very hard water leaving mineral salts in the toilet bowl, drain and clean the bowl, dry it well, and then spread mineral oil in the bowl with a tissue. Wipe it down with another tissue to leave a thin coat. It'll make the next load of salts easier to remove. Renew the oil whenever you use a cleanser in the bowl. I forgot to oil the bowl back when, and that's why I had so much trouble with the salt deposits this time around. (Use only tiny amounts, especially if you have a septic tank!)
I have a stainless steel stovetop, stainless steel microwave/convection oven insides, and stainless steel sinks. If you've ever had stainless steel, you know that it isn't stainless, and burnt-on crud is impossible to remove from the stovetop without leaving scratches. Those minute scratches serve as sticking-spots for the next wave of crud. A VERY thin layer of mineral oil or baby oil (so thin you can't really feel it - like you just polished with it) helps to keep crud from sticking so tightly. Same thing for around faucets.
It has the added advantage of moisturizing your hands after all those cleaning products.
-----------------------------------------
The dumpster was collected, emptied, and returned early this afternoon. It was 1.5 tons of trash (mostly paper) on this trip. With the 800 pounds I got rid of a few months ago with the Hunk's trailer, and the 500 or so pounds last year, that's 4,300 pounds of trash extracted from the basement and elsewhere. I also donated 21 pairs of shoes and two large bags of clothing to the Salvation Army drop-box yesterday morning. Lots more clothing to go. There are two of those huge moving company wardrobe boxes full of Jay's shirts downstairs. I'll empty them this evening.
I didn't post yesterday. Took the day off. I had promised Roman that he'd be the first person in when the house could take company. Well, the house wasn't ready, but he was coming up this way to visit, so I decided to bite the bullet and let him in. The kitchen was still pretty cluttered, but it was a least halfway presentable. (It's halfway to where I want it to be.... At least one can see where it's going.)
He arrived about 3 pm, I showed him some of my treasures (he liked looking at my walking stick collection, and the ostrich egg, but was unimpressed by the caftan Omar Sharif wore in Hidalgo), and then we went into the village to meet with Piper. Piper is computer illiterate, and Roman is going to give him some lessons. Then we went computer shopping, just to see what exists. He's going to "build" a package for me based on my usual usage and needs. Then a long dinner at the mall, then back here. He left about 9:30. A nice evening. I hope we can do that more often. (He was appropriately impressed with the dumpster.)
I don't know if Roman is fully aware, but he is the first person AT ALL to enter this house, other than me, and the furnace service guy who got no further than the basement, in three years.
Daughter may be offended that he got in before she did. On the other hand, I wasn't informed that wedding dates were in negotiation with Hercules' mother until yesterday, so there!
Also, Daughter announced yesterday that their planned move to Pennsylvania is suddenly off. Hercules got a job offer from a company he knows well near where they now live in central NJ, which will save him several hours a day in commuting time (and costs - he had been working in the fashion district in Manhattan), so they have decided to stay where they are. On one hand, I'm happy, because they are now only 2.5 hours away, while Lancaster, where they were planning to move (Amish country), is 6 hours away. On the other hand, I dislike NJ. I'd love to see them somewhere greener, with clean air and pure water, and reasonable real estate prices.
Oh well, it'll work out. Somehow it always does. And I forgive them for talking wedding dates with the other future mother-in-law first - she teaches college in California, and her available windows of time are theoretically tighter, whereas I am theoretically perpetually free. (Although Daughter was surprised to find that I already have most of August booked solid, with events that cannot be moved, like a high school reunion and the first international Mensa convention, in Orlando, where my siblings live, so I plan to extend that stay to visit with family, too. Oops. Suddenly Mother has a life! How unexpected.)
-----------------------------------------------
Household Hint: Mineral oil. Cool stuff.
Actually, I use the gelled baby oil, easier to work with.
If you have trouble with very hard water leaving mineral salts in the toilet bowl, drain and clean the bowl, dry it well, and then spread mineral oil in the bowl with a tissue. Wipe it down with another tissue to leave a thin coat. It'll make the next load of salts easier to remove. Renew the oil whenever you use a cleanser in the bowl. I forgot to oil the bowl back when, and that's why I had so much trouble with the salt deposits this time around. (Use only tiny amounts, especially if you have a septic tank!)
I have a stainless steel stovetop, stainless steel microwave/convection oven insides, and stainless steel sinks. If you've ever had stainless steel, you know that it isn't stainless, and burnt-on crud is impossible to remove from the stovetop without leaving scratches. Those minute scratches serve as sticking-spots for the next wave of crud. A VERY thin layer of mineral oil or baby oil (so thin you can't really feel it - like you just polished with it) helps to keep crud from sticking so tightly. Same thing for around faucets.
It has the added advantage of moisturizing your hands after all those cleaning products.
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
#612 Kitchen Is, uh, Usable, Sorta
I worked most of today on clearing out the kitchen. I won't have enough counter space for making cookies for a while yet, but at least I can move around in there and get the lower cabinets open now. And I cleaned a bit.
I spent several hours removing hard water deposits from the laundry room john. They must have changed CLR, made it weaker or something. It used to work, but I finally had to resort to draining the bowl and filling it with vinegar, and then scrubbing with a stiff brush.
The rolloff is so full I don't think I'll be able to fit the dead dehumdifiers in. They require special handing because of the freon, so I was supposed to put them on top. But I'm afraid now they will stick up past the fill-line. Next load, I guess.
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The friend who is setting up the charitable endowment in my name is driving me crazy. She has decided that she wants the payments from the investment to go to "program", not "administration". I explained to her that if she gives $1000 restricted to programs, and someone else gives $1000 unrestricted, and if the administrative costs are 20%, then they will just use $400 of the unrestricted funds for the admin costs, so restricting the money doesn't accomplish anything. She says she understands, and that she agrees, and then five minutes later she's going on again about how difficult it is to restrict the money.
Then she complains that the charity I chose, Heifer International, has unusually high admin costs. I point out (over and over) that low admin cost can be simply creative bookkeeping, and that you can't compare admin costs without knowing what is included. Heifer does a lot of research to find the most effective locations for the programs, so is that considered "program" or "administration"? She says she understands and agrees, and then five minutes later she's complaining because Heifer's admin costs are so high. I got so angry with her this evening I told her to forget Heifer and send it to Doctors Without Borders. (DWB was my second choice only because they already get a lot of contributions.)
There were a lot of other points that we disagreed on, and I explained, and she agreed, then she went right back to as if she never heard me. She really ticked me off this evening. The kicker is that she keeps saying, in reference to restricting the money, "Well, I want to make sure that the money goes for what you and I both want", and I keep saying, "**I** don't want it restricted! I explained that to you. It's your money, and if you want to restrict it, fine. But it doesn't matter to me!"
You can be in the middle of a sentence, and she will interrupt or talk right over you. The woman doesn't listen. A long time ago, she was my fifth-level manager. Yikes! This evening I was so annoyed that when she interrupted and talked over me, I just got louder and kept right on talking.
I had to fake another call to get off the phone. By then I was shouting, and I was afraid of where it was headed.
I want to tell her to forget it. Leave me out of it. Most of her money will end up going to charity anyway, and I don't see why having my name on it has any meaning worth all this annoyance. But I don't want to hurt her feelings.
I spent several hours removing hard water deposits from the laundry room john. They must have changed CLR, made it weaker or something. It used to work, but I finally had to resort to draining the bowl and filling it with vinegar, and then scrubbing with a stiff brush.
The rolloff is so full I don't think I'll be able to fit the dead dehumdifiers in. They require special handing because of the freon, so I was supposed to put them on top. But I'm afraid now they will stick up past the fill-line. Next load, I guess.
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The friend who is setting up the charitable endowment in my name is driving me crazy. She has decided that she wants the payments from the investment to go to "program", not "administration". I explained to her that if she gives $1000 restricted to programs, and someone else gives $1000 unrestricted, and if the administrative costs are 20%, then they will just use $400 of the unrestricted funds for the admin costs, so restricting the money doesn't accomplish anything. She says she understands, and that she agrees, and then five minutes later she's going on again about how difficult it is to restrict the money.
Then she complains that the charity I chose, Heifer International, has unusually high admin costs. I point out (over and over) that low admin cost can be simply creative bookkeeping, and that you can't compare admin costs without knowing what is included. Heifer does a lot of research to find the most effective locations for the programs, so is that considered "program" or "administration"? She says she understands and agrees, and then five minutes later she's complaining because Heifer's admin costs are so high. I got so angry with her this evening I told her to forget Heifer and send it to Doctors Without Borders. (DWB was my second choice only because they already get a lot of contributions.)
There were a lot of other points that we disagreed on, and I explained, and she agreed, then she went right back to as if she never heard me. She really ticked me off this evening. The kicker is that she keeps saying, in reference to restricting the money, "Well, I want to make sure that the money goes for what you and I both want", and I keep saying, "**I** don't want it restricted! I explained that to you. It's your money, and if you want to restrict it, fine. But it doesn't matter to me!"
You can be in the middle of a sentence, and she will interrupt or talk right over you. The woman doesn't listen. A long time ago, she was my fifth-level manager. Yikes! This evening I was so annoyed that when she interrupted and talked over me, I just got louder and kept right on talking.
I had to fake another call to get off the phone. By then I was shouting, and I was afraid of where it was headed.
I want to tell her to forget it. Leave me out of it. Most of her money will end up going to charity anyway, and I don't see why having my name on it has any meaning worth all this annoyance. But I don't want to hurt her feelings.
Monday, March 20, 2006
#611 Equinox
Monday, March 20. 2006
I stood an egg on end this morning, and it was very easy. Yeah, I know about all the people who say it's bunk, that you can stand an egg any time, but I challenge any of them to actually do it! I've tried, and I've never been able to do it at any other time of the year, and it's easy for me for several days around an equinox, and it's easier at the spring than at the fall equinox.
We did several experiments in Washington DC Mensa, and we all had pretty much the same experience. The eggs all went up with ease at about the same time, and they all fell within 12 hours of each other, and the difficulty increased for each of us at about the same rate.
So there. Challenge cast. PROVE me wrong. Don't say it's bunk just because you can't explain it. (It's kind of like ESP - you aren't going to believe it until you experience it, because until you experience it, belief is too threatening.)
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The container is almost full. I guess because the level is so high now, I'm having trouble keeping stuff in. I threw a bunch of telephone books on top of the listing paper, but there are still stray sheets of other paper escaping. I have asked that it be picked up on Thursday, emptied, and returned. I'm starting to enjoy this.
I stood an egg on end this morning, and it was very easy. Yeah, I know about all the people who say it's bunk, that you can stand an egg any time, but I challenge any of them to actually do it! I've tried, and I've never been able to do it at any other time of the year, and it's easy for me for several days around an equinox, and it's easier at the spring than at the fall equinox.
We did several experiments in Washington DC Mensa, and we all had pretty much the same experience. The eggs all went up with ease at about the same time, and they all fell within 12 hours of each other, and the difficulty increased for each of us at about the same rate.
So there. Challenge cast. PROVE me wrong. Don't say it's bunk just because you can't explain it. (It's kind of like ESP - you aren't going to believe it until you experience it, because until you experience it, belief is too threatening.)
------------------------------------
The container is almost full. I guess because the level is so high now, I'm having trouble keeping stuff in. I threw a bunch of telephone books on top of the listing paper, but there are still stray sheets of other paper escaping. I have asked that it be picked up on Thursday, emptied, and returned. I'm starting to enjoy this.
Sunday, March 19, 2006
#610 Green Eggs
I went to the annual "Green Eggs and Ham" brunch (combination St. Patrick's Day and Dr. Seuss's birthday) at NJKC's today. I'm usually late, but this year I got there on time, and still managed to miss the ceremonial reading of the book. I was so tired I kept almost falling asleep. Never did finish my champagne.
I'm not working in the basement today. I'm cleaning out upstairs instead, so I don't have to carry stuff up the hill. I was in bed by 8 pm last night, and asleep by 9, but I'm still very tired today.
I got a surprise when I left the house this morning. Among the last things I had thrown into the container last night were several stacks of listings and core dumps - the kind printed on the old wide continuous paper. The wind caught it, and blew several yards of it in streamers across the driveway and yard. It was looped four feet deep on the ground next to the dumpster. I gathered it all up and pushed it back in, but now that it's not neatly folded it's taking up a lot more room.
I'm hoping some magazines on top will protect it tonight.
I'm not working in the basement today. I'm cleaning out upstairs instead, so I don't have to carry stuff up the hill. I was in bed by 8 pm last night, and asleep by 9, but I'm still very tired today.
I got a surprise when I left the house this morning. Among the last things I had thrown into the container last night were several stacks of listings and core dumps - the kind printed on the old wide continuous paper. The wind caught it, and blew several yards of it in streamers across the driveway and yard. It was looped four feet deep on the ground next to the dumpster. I gathered it all up and pushed it back in, but now that it's not neatly folded it's taking up a lot more room.
I'm hoping some magazines on top will protect it tonight.
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