malinaldarose: (Default)
I dreamed about HTWIWM last night. I dream about him far more often than I would expect given how long it has been since he left me. The dreams are usually melancholy and/or bittersweet. I am aware that I am dreaming, and yet.... Sometimes, in the dreams, we are happy and I wake up crying. Sometimes he's leaving me and I'm trying to persuade him otherwise. But no matter the dream, he is always kind or gentle as fits the setting. Last night's dream was the first time he was cruel, like he was when he left in real life, when he told me that it wasn't me and the listed all the reasons it was, or that if he stayed, he was either going to beat me or kill himself, or that he would always love me but didn't expect to ever see me again -- or even worse, maybe he would change his mind someday and show back up at my door. He was always good with words, and sometimes the words he flayed me with come back. I guess last night was one of those times.
malinaldarose: (Default)
Turns out last night wasn't a great one for sleep, either. Woke up in the middle of the night with acid in my throat, but was at the same time too asleep to go downstairs and get an antacid tablet. So I ended up not quite sleeping for the rest of the night slightly propped up on pillows. Eventually, it all went away again and I was able to get back to time for the alarm to go off, yay.

And then it turned out to be Valentine's Day.

I hate Valentine's Day. Not a big surprise, right? My last Valentine's Day as a married person was passed in silence. HTWIWM had just returned from his nine-month sabatical with the Twinkie the weekend before, and I thought it wouldn't be fair to try to celebrate what I saw as my triumph when he probably still had feelings for her. So basically, I was being an adult about things. And see how far that got me -- by the time our anniversary rolled around that year, I was divorced.

Anyway. Used to be that BFT and I -- as single women who hated Valentine's Day -- would take the opportunity to Get The Hell Outta Dodge, but the last time we did that, we came home in a blizzard and followed a Very Nervous Woman down Route 219 -- which is, in part, quite twisty and hilly. She didn't go above 35 mph for a large chunk of it, and she rode her brakes almost the entire time. Granted, the weather was bad, but it wasn't quite that bad. And she was, as I recall, from Ontario, too. (Quite a few Ontario people come down to that part of the county for the skiing.)

After that night, though, we haven't gone in years. This year, we're going, but not until this coming weekend. And according to the weather seers, it should be 50°, so the chances of following a nervous Ontarian through a blizzard are...less than they might be.

Remember how I said I wasn't going to obsess about Emergency! any more? Yeah. Turned out that I just wasn't going to talk about it. (It actually makes a good thing to watch when I'm on my treadmill because generally by the time I finish, they're at the end of a rescue and it's a good stopping place.) I found out that there was a cross-over episode with another show from the same producers called Sierra about park rangers. For some odd reason, the LA County Fire Department decided to do cross-training with the park rangers and sent Johnny and Roy out to Learn Some Stuff. (Maybe that's where they picked up the rock climbing that they used in a later episode.) Anyway. I found the episode on YouTube last night. It watching an impressionist painting come to life. Not good quality. Just good enough that you could tell from the general shapes what was going on, but mostly couldn't make out faces. The sound wasn't too bad, though. It was obviously someone's tape of a tape of a tape, complete with bad tracking marks.

I've been to that party before. I used to get tapes of tapes of tapes of The Tomorrow People (the original) long before DVDs arrived on the scene. I mean DVDs in general, not just DVDs of the series.

Bleah. Not looking forward to going to work today. I have a whole bunch of stuff I actually can't work on because I'm waiting for AVS to bake. I suppose I will go back to pulling out my 800 MA-SSI cases case by case by case to make sure that they're correct -- right case type for the recipient's SSI pay status, right address (so far as we know), make sure that any status changes have actually been noted in the case -- because the community workers, when they were doing these cases for two years, often thought that it was all automatic and that there wasn't anything they actually needed to do with them. Really? Really, guys? I gave you a pretty complete run-down on what needed to be done for each kind of change, and you still thought you didn't have to do anything? Really?

Makes me cranky.

Maybe I'll get a muffin on the way to work; I think Dunkin' still has the triple chocolate ones. And if that's the case, I need to get moving.
malinaldarose: (Default)
I just deleted the bio section of my profile. I've been meaning to rewrite it for years, since it talked about a beloved husband and four dogs and three cats. Only two of that set of eight entities are still with me. I suppose eventually I'll put something else in there. Or maybe I won't. I'm not particularly good at that sort of thing.

Yesterday's weather was quite nice for the beginning of March: sunny, temps in the 60s. As I was leaving for lunch yesterday, people returning from their earlier lunch hours kept telling me that I wouldn't want to go back. It occurred to me that such a statement assumes I ever wanted to go back to begin with, which...not so much. It's supposed to be a bit warmer today, but drizzly, I think. When Jack and I went for walkies -- late because I overslept -- the pavement had that dappled look it gets after rain that never progresses beyond a good hard sprinkle, but the grass wasn't wet.

My reading has definitely slowed significantly since I finished the Harry Dresden books, but I finished my twentieth book for the year last evening: Svaha by Charles de Lint. I have decided that this will likely be a year of rereading, as I want to delve back into the works of some of my favorites that I haven't read in years. Svaha, for instance. This may have been the third time I've read it, but it may only have been the second. My copy is a first edition paperback; the pages have passed yellow and gone straight to tan. I thought about buying the Kindle version, but I don't actually like reading on my Kindle -- and I find the cost of e-books offensive¹, so.... *shrug*

I see, upon re-reading that paragraph, that I make it sound as though Svaha is a favorite book. It actually isn't. I don't got in for post-apocalyptic dystopias, much. No, it's the author who is a favorite, though my favorite of his works are The Riddle of the Wren and Moonheart, both of which I have definitely read more than twice.

Over the weekend, I took down an organizer/mail sorter thingy that had been hanging in the kitchen for fifteen and a half years. It was a wedding gift from the nice people across the street (we invited all of our immediate neighbors to our wedding, since we'd lived here for six months by the time we got married and they were all nice people and since it was going to cause a lot of traffice since we were getting married in the backyard). HTWIWM used to keep his wedding ring on the hooks at the bottom of it when he was going to be doing something where he shouldn't be wearing rings. I still occasionally looked for his ring to be hanging there. Anyway. I hadn't really used it for ages, and it was a symbol of something long gone, so I decided to take it down and replace it with something else. It was, of course, screwed into place with his favorite three-inch drywall screws, so getting it down was a bit of a job, and now there are screw holes in the panelling², but that's okay; I'll cover them. The organizer went straight to the garage and will go in my next garage sale.

Anyway, what I was trying to say is that my kitchen looks weird without this thing hanging on the wall. It wasn't huge, but it wasn't small, either, and it was smack in the middle of that section of wall. So the whole kitchen looks kind of empty without it. I can't quite decide whether to put a selection of photographs there, or some of the art I've acquired over the years. I remember once seeing a nice arrangement of photos of France and trivets in a kitchen that I quite liked. Okay, fine, it was HTWIWM's kitchen back when he was still He With Whom I Am Having A Long Distance Relationship, and the photos were probably taken and arranged by his ex-girlfriend who is a nice person with whom I am friends on FB, mostly because I contacted her there to return some of her property that I found in my house after he took off.

I had vague thoughts of putting up a photo I took of the Leaning Tower of Pisa in the kitchen because I took it while leaning back from my chair at a cafe (well, the Italian version, anyway) down the street. It's a busy street scene with the Tower in the background, and it's one of my favorite of my Italy photos, none of which have ever been framed and hung.
¹ If I'm going to pay that much, I want something tangible.

² Who panels a kitchen³, for fuck's sake?

³ I loathe panelling, and great chunks of the house are panelled. Paneled?
malinaldarose: (Default)
I am already having a shitty day and it's not yet 6:30 a.m. I dreamed about HTWIWM again. He was warm and there and loving and I was happy...and then I woke up alone with the other side of the bed still shoved against the wall, because you don't need two sides when there's only one person sleeping in it. It has been seven years since he came home...and looking at the calendar makes me think that's why I was dreaming about him because it was February that he came back, right before Valentine's Day, because I made a point of not celebrating because it seemed too much like gloating -- ha! You're here with me, not there with her! Ha ha!

Stupid me, right? She ranted at the time that he only left her because they couldn't get by on what the two of them were making, and I have to think she was right, since he left me again and went back to her the week after he got a full-time job. (Of course, he lost the job again the week or so after that, but he never came back again, and I haven't seen him in seven years...except in dreams, yay.)

Apparently, it's never going to not hurt, and when it flares up like this, no amount of telling myself that I'd have never gone to Italy or Montreal or London or Paris if he were still here really helps.

Wallow. Wallow, wallow, wallow, wallow.

At least I don't have to go to work today, which is good because there is currently freezing rain out there on top of two or three or four inches of snow that wasn't there when I got home last evening. And boy, was Jack full of piss and vinegar when we attempted walkies this morning. He was straining at the leash, following rabbit tracks all over the place and when I was trying to get us out of the way of the plow, he was extremely non-cooperative. We walked half a block, then I got pissed and brought us home. It's still raining; I'm rather hoping it'll warm up enough to just turn to rain and wash it all away again so that I don't have to try to wrestle the snowblower out of the garage later.

I am so tired, and I didn't accomplish anything I was planning to during this extra-long weekend.

On the plus side, I went out to dinner with BFT and J1 last evening, and we had a good time. The Mexican place we had planned to go to was closed, so we went up the street to My Favorite Place. We talked a bit about the cruise this summer (we are apparently going in August), and the trip next year for which we really need to start planning in the next month or so. J1 is going to Hawaii this coming weekend, lucky thing. Amusingly, she is flying out of Toronto rather than Buffalo. Apparently the trip from Toronto has a layover in Vancouver (and is nonstop on the way back from Honolulu to Toronto), but the trip from Buffalo goes all over the place. We will also be flying from Toronto to Seattle for the cruise, and of course flying from Toronto next summer.

BFT had told me that Jo-Ann's has a new line of Paris-themed items for spring, so I stopped in on my way uptown last night. I really like the stuff. Most of it has the Eiffel Tower on it, and while I used to really dislike the Tower, now that I have seen it in person, I like Tower-themed stuff -- as long as it's a well-done depiction. I don't do cute, and I don't do impressionistic. I actually had a couple of items in hand -- a tea towel that I had vague thoughts of framing and a photo box -- but after standing in line for several minutes I realized I was going to be late for dinner, so put the stuff back and left. We were later than I expected at dinner (because BFT's evening class was cancelled), so I didn't stop back in on the way home. I had vague thoughts of going back today, especially when I found that they don't have the stuff online, but I'm not going anywhere today unless it does warm up enough to clean up some of the mess out there. I shouldn't spend any money now, but I'm depressed, and when I'm depressed, that's immediately where my thoughts go.
malinaldarose: (Default)
Well, not bees. Wasps. Or hornets. Wasnets. I didn't spray them last night because I didn't want to be sucking poisonous vapors into the house through the back door. I didn't spray them this morning for the same reason -- because it's so humid and the air's so heavy that it only got down to 73° in the house overnight, and that was with an intake fan at full blast at the back door and the exhaust fan in the upstairs at full blast (pulling air straight through the house). Anyway. That means that I have to get my laundry (and Jack) in and out past them for another day.

I am actually wondering if I can get through until the first hard frost, because the nest won't survive that.

I am very tired again this morning. I'm reasonably certain this is partly due to a bit of depression, but also partly due to there being just so damned much to do and not enough time or money to do it. Since Jack destroyed the sheer curtain in the bedroom yesterday, I have been out of sorts. I realized that the reason I wanted a sheer at that window so badly was because that's the one where he completely broke the frame, and I wanted the sheer hanging there to hide that, since I can't get it fixed.

Also, I really just want to get away, and I can't. I feel trapped by Jack and work and responsibility and stuff.

On top of that...twenty years ago this weekend, I went on a camping trip that -- I know it's cliché -- completely changed my life. I still remember how it felt to just be held, only held, all night. But, hey. It all ended in tears, so yay? (Actually, I've been sort of out of sorts all week because a coworker told me that HTWIWM and The Twinkie adopted a dog from Our Trainee (remember the person was so afraid of getting stuck with a nursing home caseload that she retired to avoid it, thus giving me the problem I have had with being behind for the last ten months?), and it's always nice to know how easily anything can be replaced.

Wow. I should go grab a cheese stick from the fridge to go with this whining.

Which reminds me....I submitted the adoption application to New Rescue People last night. One of the questions has to do with if the dog becomes an inconvenience, how will you deal with it? My response: By whining about it on Facebook. I don't really expect to hear back from them until next week. And I gave them the two references and a vet that they required (one of those references has adopted from them before), but also gave them MyAuntie's number because she will straight out tell them if she doesn't feel that I am worthy to adopt.
malinaldarose: (Default)
I really want to do fuck-all today, but I really can't leave projects half finished, so I shall shortly be heading upstairs to work in the Spare Oom for an hour or so before going out to finish mowing the backyard. Well. I may leave the section under the maple unmown. The grass is sparser there than in the rest of the yard, so it can go unmown for longer periods than the rest. I should probably get upstairs and strip the bed and get the bedding washed.... Also, the house will shortly have to be closed up. It cooled down overnight, but only to about 72° -- which is why I am not baking blueberry muffins this morning. Well, that, and I hate kitchening. If it traditionally occurs in the kitchen, I hate doing it.

My foot is somewhat better this morning, It hurts, but it always hurts, so I'm accustomed to a baseline of pain. But the swelling is much better. It's still slightly swollen, but apparently what it needed was not for me to baby it for ten days and take Arthrotec religiously, but to be on it for most of the day, mow the lawn, walk the dog, move furniture around, and forget to take the Arthrotec. Of course, one of the Arthrotec's side effects is edema, so it's entirely possible that I was doing it to myself....

I made many posts on FB yesterday about cleaning out the attic room, which is a project that actually got started a year or so ago, then got derailed for a long while. HTWIWM did move nearly all of his stuff out of that room; whatever was left ended up in one garage sale or other. Given that a couple of days before the last time I saw him, my wedding gift to him (a very nice sterling torc) was sitting on a shelf in there, I'm actually surprised that the only memory mine I actually found was a piece of blue ribbon about a foot long that he had pinned to the hem of his kilt when we went to the Ren Faire. ("I don't know where ye've been, laddie, but I see ye won first prize!") Still. I am very reluctant to throw it away. It's sitting on the kitchen counter right now, while I nerve myself up to do so. I'm probably going to end up hiding it in the same box as the wedding photos.

Anyway. The shelving units that HTWIWM put up there are massive, with coated metal frames and heavy pressed board shelves. They're taller than I am and the shelves are at least two feet (and maybe three feet) deep. There is no way that I can get them downstairs on my own, but it looks like the frames can be whacked apart with a hammer. The shelves just lift out. I got the first one emptied and was contemplating whacking it when I realized that it would make a splendid storage space for all the bedding that I had just piled atop a trunk in the middle bedroom. Now, the middle bedroom is truly useless since that's where my parents dropped the bathtub when they decided to "help me out" with my upstairs bathroom. So I swapped the dresser in there for the shelving unit and loaded the latter up with all that loose bedding. It's fantastic, and there's room on the top shelf (which is over my head) for my suitcases and maybe a box of travel gear (hotel laundry line, packing cubes, airplane blankies, etc.). I'd store the gear in the suitcases, but then I'd forget that's where I put stuff. (Which just happened, actually.)

There are three categories of stuff I am taking out of that room: garage sale stuff, stuff I am moving to the basement for storage, and garbage/recycling/shredding. Of that last, I found a box full of papers that I had kept for tax purposes, but they were all from the late 90s. Paystubs from 1997, '98, and '99. The orientation packet and some old memos from work. My divorce papers from my first divorce. (Well, those I'll hang onto.) Stuff that is really trash, but that I can't just throw away. When I came across a similar box of HTWIWM's stuff, I burned the majority of it (and actually still have some stuff ready for the fire). I'm not certain where to set up my fire pit now, though, as the end of the ramp comes down right into the middle of the spot that I used to use in the backyard because it's relatively free of overhead branches. I suppose I could set the firepit up in the driveway, but then I'd have neighbors wanting to know what I was doing....

Jack was quite anxious about all of yesterday's activity. He'd never seen the attic room before, so as far as he was concerned, I opened up a secret room behind the wall at the end of the hallway. He also backslid a lot while I was gone, so I'm guessing I won't be going to see a movie this weekend as I had sort of half-planned. On the other hand, maybe I'm misinterpreting excitement as anxiety. Hard to say where dogs are concerned....

Ah. It's 9:00 a.m. Time to close up the house and get to work.
malinaldarose: (Default)
Oh, wait....

I saw the bunny in the yard this morning before Jack did. I kept trying to figure out how to get it out of the yard before he noticed it. And then he noticed it. I almost thought it was going to make it back through the fence, but it apparently couldn't find the way it got in, because Jack got it. Unfortunately, he didn't kill it. I lifted it outside the fence as gently as I could, since it was right near the front gate. I hoped it was not so seriously hurt that it couldn't get away, but when we got back from walkies it was dead. I'm now hoping that it'll at least go to feed the cats, since I've seen them stalking bunnies before.

That wasn't the end of the excitement, though. All sorts of furry woodland creatures were out in the neighborhood this morning: more bunnies, two separate groups of deer, yet more bunnies, and the dog up the street whose owners let him out into their unfenced yard loose and unsupervised. He does seem to know his boundaries, at least, but still. That is just so incredibly stupid.

I am ready to go back to bed....
Yesterday, of course, was Easter. Rather than anyone cooking a meal, Mom decided that we'd go to the banquet center for their buffet. Even at $20 a head, she said it cost less than preparing a full-on dinner and she didn't have to clean the house. Well...all right. It was crowded, noisy, and the food wasn't very good, but it was probably still less annoying than actually having dinner at Mom and Dad's house. I suspect it'll happen again.

Mom and Dad have a transfer chair that they used for Gram. It's a wheeled chair that is not, at the same time, a wheelchair. They used it with my great grandmother (who actually was in a nursing home for her last few years because she had Alzheimer's) whenever they had to take her anywhere. Unlike Gram, she could mostly walk on her own (she didn't get run over by a truck, you see), but the chair made things a bit simpler.

As we were heading to our table, I was utterly unsurprised to see my former in-laws sitting not too far away. My former father-in-law had his back to me, but my former stepmother-in-law noticed me at the same time I noticed them. Still, I went over and gave them both big hugs. It's the first time I've seen them since HTWIWM took off. My mom used to run into the Old Man all the time. Fortunately, HTWIWM and the current love of his life were not with them.

It was...okay. It was too brief to get awkward, and they left while I was in the buffet line. And I really was pleased to see them.
Today is Moving Day at work. I'm 9-5 this week, and I'd sort of like to get there to find that my stuff has already been moved, but since I'm thirteenth on the list (bad luck!) -- and there is a numbered list of how the moves are supposed to go -- it's unlikely that they'll have accomplished the previous twelve in an hour.

I can't put too much stuff on my desk when I do get moved, because the work surface will have to be lowered for me, and that's probably not going to happen for a day or so. No one is going to get much done today, anyway; it's going to be entirely too chaotic.

I only accomplished one of my craft projects this weekend, and it just occurred to me this second that another of them isn't going to work the way I had planned, so I need to rethink that one. I can probably still make it work with only a minor modification, but I don't think I have the materials on hand. Back to WickedMart I go, apparently....
malinaldarose: (Default)
I keep seeing things on Facebook about self-care and how to spot a narcissist and ending toxic relationships and if your partner/spouse/significant other does this and this and this, just walk away, and it all leads me to wonder if I was the problem, and he was just following all of this advice before it became meme-tastic. After all, I know I'm not a nice person. But...I didn't mind him spending time with the guys -- I encouraged it. I didn't ever say a word about him coming home with yet another motorcycle -- or dog (and let's not forget who ended up taking care of those dogs). I forgave him for how he treated me for seven months. (I have not yet forgiven him for anything else.) I didn't constantly pick at him about the house not being finished. I thought I was a good wife. But maybe the problem was me, and I just didn't see it.
malinaldarose: (Default)
The back wall of the basement is now mostly empty. Everything that was stored there has been hauled upstairs to the garage, and I am boggling at some of it. There were boxes and boxes of small electronic bits from when HTWIWM got interested in electronics, and acquired All The Electronics Things. There were boxes of stuff that were clearly mostly garbage, from when he packed us out of the house on the farm and moved us here, which was done all in one day while I was at work. When I went to work in the morning, we lived on the farm and when I got out of work that afternoon, we lived here. I had packed a great deal of stuff myself, so it was organized and labeled. Stuff that was left, he just threw into boxes and hauled down here, which is why I finally found the snowboots I have been missing for the last twelve and a half years in a footlocker along with dryer sheets, a bottle of Shout gel, the top part of a washing machine agitator, a Dust Devil hand vac, a tennie ball and chew rope of Deuce's, a power strip that I must have had at work because it's labeled with my name, and a bunch of towels that I had been wondering about recently. (They were given to me as a housewarming present when I moved into my second apartment, and I couldn't remember getting rid of them, yet did not have them.) This sort of haphazard packing also explains why, when I cleaned out the attic, I found a box that contained a cast iron frying pan, a hammer, some shoe polish, and a bunch of other random oddments.

I also discovered enough shingle-sheets to redo nearly the entire roof (which could come in handy), and, when I got back far enough, found that one or another of the cats had, at some point, wriggled back in there and used the space between the pallet and the wall for a little box. It was gross. Fortunately, it was also mummified, so I was able to clean it up easily. Hope you can't get hanta virus from cat poo...though there may have been some mouse mix in there. How do you tell?

The worst part was probably finding the photographs. I didn't expect to find any, but I did find a few from one of our first Christmases together, when we still went to his mother's house after dinner at my grandparents'. There was also a lovely framed shot of him staring out at a large expanse of water that I suspect his girlfriend before me took. I am going to hang onto it. Heck, I may take his photo out of the frame and put an Italy photo into it. I don't suppose he much cares about having the photos of his mother and stepdad, so I don't suppose I'll make much of an effort to get them to him. Not quite sure what to do with his two yearbooks, either; I have those years myself. They must be his freshman and sophomore years as they are my junior and senior years. I had hoped, when I came across them, that one of them would be from the '85 - '86 school year, as that was when photographs of the spring musical I was in (1985) were published. I've never seen photos from that show.

There was only one love note. To me, anyway. I did also find a cutesy exchange in an old notebook between him and the aforementioned previous girlfriend. (They were high school/college sweethearts. I still don't know how or why they split. It seemed impolite to ask.)

Anyway. I was just finishing up when Doc M called with the results of Kethri's thyroid tests. She has hyperthyroidism, which will require two pills per day for the rest of her wriggly little life. I picked up the first bottle this afternoon. I'm really hoping that stuffing them into Pill Pockets will work with her, because she is very difficult to pill otherwise. I foresee a lot of Quality Time with her in my future, however....

*sigh* When I had four dogs and three cats, I was working to keep them all in kibble. Now that I have only one elderly dog and three mature cats, I'm working to keep them in meds. But I took responsibility for their well-being, so there you have it.
malinaldarose: (thursday)
Guess who I dreamed about again? You betcha! I guess that when my brain is already troubled about something else, it feels that tossing HTWIWM and his Twinkie into the mix is only fair, right, and true. There are times when I really hate my brain.

My gyn's office called yesterday and he wants to see me next week. The message was that he had re-examined my ultrasounds of three weeks ago and wants to discuss a different procedure from what he told me before. I'm just wondering why now, three weeks later? Why did he even bother to pull them out again? I am not pleased. So I have an appointment with him on Tuesday morning -- funny how it went from "not urgent" on the answering machine to "can you come in Tuesday?" when I called. I wonder what would have happened had I not called back.

I was actually feeling pretty good about things yesterday afternoon when I left work, too. I got a few things accomplished yesterday and got through a few of the cases that had been sitting on my desk(s) for months, and I learned a New Thing about nursing home billing and how to adjust our end when a client owes for past months in which they were not eligible for MA. Today, I have to pack things to go uptown; Co-conspirator P is off tomorrow and zOMG, we can't have no one up there!!! What if someone comes in to apply? (Simple answer? The receptionist hands them an application packet. If they have something dire, she can put them in the conference room on the phone with either of the two workers over at DSS or send them over there. It's not the freakin' end of the world if there is no MA worker up there. Besides, since they're planning to close the office, they should be training people not to go there.) So I have to go up tomorrow to cover for P, but then next week is my week, anyway.

Sheila is informing me that she has to go out now!!! I see by the clock, however, that she is probably just wanting to go out and touch noses with Teddy through the fence. Once she's done that, she loses interest in him...much to Teddy's dismay, as he was used to running back and forth along the fence with Cruiser -- who would howl if Teddy wasn't paying attention to him. (Teddy, for those playing along at home, is the cockapoo next door.)

*grump* Think I'm going to sabotage myself by stopping at the grocery store on my way to work for a double-chocolate muffin, and maybe some Post-Its or a pen or a highlighter at their mini-Staples aisle.
malinaldarose: (fawkes)
The teller that I generally go to at the credit union is a woman who has known me since I was...nineteen? twenty? Quite a long time, anyway. She was the second assistant manager at the toy store, anyway, and I worked there from 1988 to 1992. I was twenty, then. (Interesting oddity: her daughter was best friends with HTWIWM's girlfriend prior to me. Other interesting oddity: I am friends with the aforementioned previous girlfriend. Well, FB friends, anyway, which isn't quite friends, but she is still an interesting person, who seems to have achieved everything she set out to do.)

Anyway. We always chat a bit, with longer or shorter conversations depending on whether there's a line behind me or not. She was always very supportive and encouraging, and was telling me that I didn't know what the future was going to bring and maybe he would come back...right up until I told her he had married the Twinkie. Yesterday, she was encouraging me to get out there, start dating. My response? *gak*

I have no interest in dating at all. The few people I have even a remote interest in are all paired (or more) up. And I can't imagine moving someone into my house (my house! mine!) again. I suppose if it came to it, I'd have to sell the place and find another that was (the mythical) ours -- or actually build that apartment over the garage that we always used to joke about building for the Old Man. Of course, there are houses for sale all over the neighborhood, so this mythical person could just buy a house up the street, or on the next block, and that'd work, too.

Much more room for books that way.

Of course, when it comes right down to it, I suppose it's a form of cowardice. I can't trust someone like that again. I can't open myself up to the possibility of that kind of pain. I'm not over the first time; I don't need to contemplate there being another.

So, no.
malinaldarose: (thursday)
...and you know what that means.

I woke up this morning from dreams about work: getting work done, not getting work done, calling in sick because I was already late, so what the hell, etc. And I was living in a tiny apartment that didn't even have its own bathroom in an apartment complex that was apparently for senior citizens (mostly). At least, while I was in the shared bathroom down the hall, two elderly ladies were having a conversation right outside the frosted glass door, so I could see their shadows as I tried to wash up. At least there was a beach, but before I could call in sick to spend the day on the beach, I woke up... HTWIWM's last cruel words crashing around in my head.

Oh, it's gonna be a great day!
malinaldarose: (Default)
  • Still debating LJ Idol. The fact that the topic of the week is not inspiring me is not really helping.

  • Mowed about 2/3 of the lawn last night when I got home. I filled the gas tank on the mower and when it ran out, I stopped. Of course, by that point, it was pretty much too dark to continue, anyway. Finished it this evening, about an hour ago, and the rain is now starting. Said rain will probably bring down a pile more leaves. (The mowing was only partly to trim the grass. Mostly it was to mulch the leaves.)

  • Have accomplished nothing the last couple of days at work. Deadline for monthly work to be completed is Thursday, but since my work has to travel to the main building by courier, for me, it's really tomorrow. I'm not going to make it.

  • Auntie and Nuncle are making a quick trip home for the weekend, per email just received. I wonder if Mom will try to stuff in a Family Dinner on Saturday.

  • I haven't seen my grandmother since I got home from Michigan, which means that when I do go to visit my Auntie and Nuncle, I will get an earful. But...honestly, I've simply been too fucking tired. This new job is killing off brain cells faster than it's building wrinkles.

  • Oh, look. I said "fucking."

  • Oh, look. I said it again.

  • Searching my computer for photos of the thrice-damned loader this morning (a friend is going to see if a local auction house would be interested in it), I found some casual pictures of my best beloved. *sigh* And there's the problem, I guess: he's still my best beloved, even though he's also a fucking asshole.

  • Oh, look. I said it again.

  • Next step on the Italy trip: booking flights. We're doing that this week. Non-stop from Toronto to Rome (we won't mention the fact that it's a four-hour drive to Toronto; it was the closest non-stop flight we could get). I got a bit of a shock when I was told the price because I somehow figured it was part of the tour cost. Not so much. Still, we've already saved quite a lot by booking the tour a year in advance and airfare would be half again as much if we waited very much longer, so if our math is correct, we're actually going to come in a few hundred dollars under the posted tour price. I can live with that. BFT is already talking about going on another trip in 2014. "France?" she said. "France could be good," I replied. Though BFTsFJ said something about going to Scotland next.

  • Right. Think I'll go watch NCIS.
malinaldarose: (Default)
Wow. The van is gone...and I'm crying.
malinaldarose: (Default)
Bad: Today should have been our eleventh anniversary.

Good: It's Friday.

Bad: It's not pay day.

Good: I'm going to Sterling Renaissance Festival tomorrow.

Bad: That's what we did the day after our wedding; we joked that it was our honeymoon. I almost wore my wedding gown, until I thought about trying to manage all that white fabric in the privies.

Double plus ungood: I'm going with my parents.

Good: I am going to get at least some of the work done on my house.

Bad: I'm going to be paying it off for the next ten years and I'll never be able to afford a new vehicle until then.

Good: My hydrangea is loaded with deep blue blossoms.

Bad: It occurs to me that I may have to give up my vacation to stay here and babysit contractors while they're working on my bathroom.

Good: They'll be working on my bathroom.


Aug. 11th, 2011 09:44 pm
malinaldarose: (hp weight world)
There is a moment in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 that is so real and true that it astounds me. Read more... )
malinaldarose: (fawkes)
I have sprung ahead, and am, consquently, a bit behind this morning. My computer tells me it's 9:24, but my kitchen clock tells me it's 10:24. Not that it really matters since it's Sun-don't-leave-the-house-day, but still, even on Sundays I like to feel that I've accomplished something by midmorning.

I did my knee exercises and most of my weights this morning, barring those that might affect my knees. The knee exercises look simple on the sheet, just a lot of pointing and lifting, but they suck. Apparently, none of my leg muscles are in very good shape. I am going to try to start getting to the Y this week to use the therapy pool. We'll see how that goes.

I am currently waiting for my hair color to bake. The package tells me not to leave it on any longer than fifteen minutes. I generally leave it on for an hour.

I spent a good chunk of yesterday reading Runaway Husbands: The Abandoned Wife's Guide to Recovery and Renewal by Vikki Stark (herself an abandoned wife). I am processing. I may or may not have things to say about it later, but I do think simply the reading of it was a step. I have a couple of other post-divorce books lying about, and I was debating reading another one today, but I think one in a weekend is probably good. I was struck by something, though. Susan Piver, in The Wisdom of a Broken Heart says that in order for you to heal, you have to forgive your ex. One of Vikki Stark's contributors says, basically, fuck that noise, and Stark seems to agree with her. If it helps you to forgive, then do so, but you're not a lesser person if you can't manage it. Guess which camp I fall into?

She does recommend that you work to reclaim things that were yours before, or that you shared and loved and still do, so I watched French Kiss last night (and came away really wanting to go to France). It's a movie that I have always been fond of, and we're both big Kevin Kline fans and we used to quote bits of it at each other from time to time. Ditto Undercover Blues, though I didn't have time to watch both last night. I have, I think, already reclaimed the bookstores we used to frequent. Now I just need to claim the house (there's no "reclaim" about it, I don't think, because in some sense, it was always his house). A small step in that process was to change his abandoned, mildewed ex-office-then-storage room into the library. And now I find that the nice big old rolltop desk is a very inviting place to sit and do research or pay my bills or whatever (which might have something to do with my not having had a chance to fill it with stuff yet), even though it's really his mother's. Or was, anyway. Mine, now.

In other news, my mother is still being ridiculously over-helpful -- except in the instance of the now-destroyed upstairs bathroom, of course. I mentioned that I didn't think I was going to make it to the Festival of the Passing of the Ice Dragon weekend after next because I wasn't going to get the van repaired in the next two weeks and didn't really want to be at the mercy of another driver who wouldn't want to stay as long (or, possibly, leave as early) as I would. Mom told me to get a ride up, and she and Dad would come up and get me. In Buffalo. "Oh, we'll just antique until you're ready to leave." And what if I don't want to leave until after court? Or what if I get there in the morning and make the rounds of the place and want to leave immediately? That's just ridiculous.

Although I suppose it's really, in practice, no different from needing a ride to and from the airport. (Something I haven't needed in years.)

If you can't tell, I'm feeling fairly chipper this morning. Not chipper enough, however, to want to go out for a shire sewing day this afternoon, though I should probably go long enough to get instructions on how to make scroll cases, since I have a lot of cardboard lying about and -- like the bottle bags -- could run up a bunch to donate to the kingdom.
malinaldarose: (Default)
So...yet another dream about him. This time, he had taken me on that trip to Ireland that he promised me for our entire time together (yet another broken promise), and dumped me there. At least the owner of the B&B where we were staying was concerned.

This may have been brought on by the bit of BtVS I caught in which the school counselor said the above to Buffy. This resonates all the more with me because of our habit of naming every living thing in the household as part of the Pack: Deuce-dog, Garion-dog, Merlin-dog (don't tell him, eh?), Man-dog, Woman-dog, etc.

malinaldarose: (Default)
  • Watched The Matrix last night and will watch the other movie (I consider the second two parts of the trilogy to be one long movie cut in half) later today. Question: If Our Heroes are trying to be unobtrusive whilst inside the Matrix and not draw the attention of Agents, then why the hell are they going about all in leather? I mean, that floor-length leather coat of Morpheus'? Pretty freakin' attention-grabbing, if you ask me. And four or five people together all in leather? In broad daylight and not a fetish club? Yeah, I'd stare at that. (Neo going about in a cassock in the other movie is completely different. For one thing, by that time, he's fully accepted that he's The One and is in little danger from Agents.

  • It snowed again. Only two inches at most, but jeez louise. Can this be freakin' over now?

  • Related to the above, my neighbor was clearing out my driveway while I was wandering around getting ready for my shower.

  • And related to that, the water wasn't very warm, even though I had the faucet turned all the way over to hot. I am afraid to go downstairs and peer at my hot water tank. I don't want to know. On the other hand, the water in the kitchen sink was pretty warm when I tried it.

  • I woke up just before 5:00 this morning with my brain turning over the problem of my soon-to-be-new cubicle. I really didn't need that. But I especially didn't need to fall asleep again and dream that HTWIWM came home (brought into the house by [ profile] paladin333 for some reason), and was making nice to me because he wanted to stage a camping trip from my house. In the beginning of the dream, his hair was white and his beard was nonexistent, but his hair darkened and his beard got thicker as the dream progressed. In the dream, I screamed at him, and cried, and wailed (and probably gnashed my teeth for good measure), and what finally woke me was that I couldn't breathe (in the dream) because my sinuses were packed happens when one weeps like that, as I know full well. But when I woke, my eyes were dry and I was breathing just fine. My face wasn't even under the blankets.

  • Cruiser is trying to persuade me that he needs to go outside. Apparently, Teddy is out. Although he did drain the water bowl, so perhaps I should indulge him....
malinaldarose: (fawkes)
HTWIWM had a very specific rule about what makes a Proper Blanket. As he is tall, it simply has to be long enough for him to be able to wrap it under his feet and still be able to pull it over his head.

Once upon a time, a long time ago, before we moved in together, we used to play D&D every Saturday night with a largish group of friends. Because the games did not start until 7:00 or sometimes even 8:00 p.m. and because they often lasted well past midnight, I required something that would keep me busy when I wasn't doing character stuff so that I wouldn't fall asleep. So in my D&D bag there was always a cross stitch or crochet project.

Upon learning of HTWIWM's Rules Of Blanketry, I started an afghan just for him, one that would not only cover a queen-sized bed, but would be long enough for him to wrap his feet in. And I crocheted and crocheted and crocheted and crocheted and crocheted and used I don't know how many skeins of yarn. When I finally finished it, I had to lay it out on the floor of the living room of my apartment to fold it...and it didn't fit with the furniture and furnace in the way. It was at least eight feet long and probably six or seven feet wide.

I gave it to him for either his birthday or for Christmas; I can't remember which now (well, it was a decade and a half ago). But I do remember the way his face lit up. He smiled and laughed. He'd seen me making the thing, of course, because I'd had to at D&D games. But he hadn't quite twigged that it was for him.

We called it The Rug because it was so very large, and he did use it for a long time, even though it was quite heavy with all that yarn.

You might understand, then, how much finding it in a trunk after he'd left hurt. Oh, I can understand why he might have left it behind: for one thing, it's enormous and hard to pack and take care of. He wouldn't want to hurt her, of course, by having it in evidence. His stuff is scattered hither and yon, and, personally, after all that work, I'd rather have it here than stored in someone's garage or attic for the rodents to nest in. I have always understood his motivations; something that he couldn't take, in the end.

Understanding, however, doesn't make it any less painful.


malinaldarose: (Default)

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