For someone who usually spends his free time alone, huddled in front of multiple computer screens living life vicariously, this weekend has been filled with social outings.
Sunday afternoon and early evening I was at a friend’s house for a cookout. About fourteen people, some I knew from work and some new to me, were there. I had a good time and I am glad that I went. At times it was poignant for me as every one else there was part of a couple, but it was still good to be out and about.
This evening I am headed off to another friend’s house for a 4th of July cookout. This time I am bringing my chocolate frosted chocolate cake. The host family has had it before and raves about it; in fact they specially requested that I bring one today. I haven’t made too many cakes in the nine months or so since Michele died. She and I could polish one off in a week, but solo I can’t eat more than half. And it seems sad some how to have a cake just for one. So I’m happy to bake and frost today.
This morning I decided that I needed a pot of chili as well, so I spent an hour or so chopping a pepper, onion, garlic cloves, and celery, and putting it all together. I had a bowl for lunch and I think it turned out very nicely. I’ve got six portions left over, three in the freezer and three ready to eat, so I’ll be in chili heaven for the next couple of weeks.
I’m hopeful that the party this afternoon will be fun for me. Sometimes in a large group I shut down and end up not having as much fun. My goal today is to open up and have fun. I need some fun.
I attended a 4th of July cookout this afternoon and evening; the first of two I was invited to this year. I must admit it is nice to have a circle of friends and to be included in social events. I try very hard to stay in the moment and to enjoy the company of friends, but it is hard sometimes not to be envious of what I don’t currently have.
Everyone at the gathering was a couple, with the exception of one other guy. I don’t know if he is in a committed relationship or not. Having worked with him in the past I know that he is very sarcastic and cynical and I suspect that he doesn’t have a partner with which to share life. Seeing someone like that scares me as I can’t help but wonder if that is my ultimate fate.
During the years prior to Michele I coined the phrase “social leprosy” to describe what it was like to be single in a world focused on couples. Being with Michele cured me of this malady; however it has returned after being dormant for the last ten years. A lot of my thinking lately has been about my future and whether it will include a new love interest.
Hoping and dreaming about a future not spent alone is a dangerous thing. When you have nothing to lose it is easy to exist in despair. Giving yourself hope of a future without misery builds you up, but if you fall short of the goal, you fall back into the pit you just escaped. I’ve been so beaten down the last year, and was partially beaten down by job loss and moving prior to that, that I don’t have a lot of resilience left. I want so badly to get out and find someone and yet I don’t know how to start.
Going to parties or seeing people I know is wonderful. I look forward to the shared moments and their memories are sustaining. However there is a cost – I crash afterwards and have to find a way back to my lonely perch so I can exist one more day alone.
Senator Ted Stevens (R) from Alaska gives an absolutely incomprehensible explanation of the Internet.
Time to head for the life boats, the US is sinking….
The follow-up procedure I had to correct the vision setting in my right eye on Friday continues to be a success. As I learned the first time through the recovery process it will take a some time for the new focal range of the eye to settle and become permanent. Most of yesterday I was able to see very clearly at arms length. Even this laptop, with the resolution set to 1680x1050, is readable at arms length.
This morning things were a bit blurry upon first waking up; they have improved since then. I was warned that there would be more awareness of the flap in my eye this time and I am aware of a slight feeling of grittiness in that eye. Adding more artificial tears usually makes that sensation go away.
Since I have been wearing disposable glasses for the last three months that allowed my right eye to have the proper focal length while not correcting my left eye at all, my brain is already in mono-vision mode. I am no longer consciously aware of the shift from eye to the other based on the object I am viewing. If I stop to notice I can tell, mostly through awareness of which side of my nose I am seeing. (I guess a large nose has to be good for something.)
I want to wait a few weeks to see how my right eye heals before declaring this a success, but I am very hopeful this morning that the “enhancement”, as LasikPlus insists on calling this second procedure, has given me the vision I desired.
I watched Syriana yesterday, and I’m still trying to figure out just what the hell it was about. I got the part about oil being exploited by corrupt and greedy men. I got the part about how the American people don’t want justice but rather the illusion of justice. And I guess Matt Damon’s character had to fall from grace and nearly be blown up before he saw the error of his ways.
But I still don’t know what the movie was about.
Rating: Compelling if not entirely understandable
The initial assessment of my vision “enhancement” is that it was successful. I am type this at arm’s length without aid of glasses. Ha! I just need to survive the week of wearing protective eye gear at night, and not getting anything in my eye, and then then wait out the month or so for the eye to fully heal.
A month ago my new upstairs neighbors arrived and I have been struggling with the noise level ever since. In talking to my source in the apartment office I was led to believe it was a late middle age single woman moving in above me. On the first or second day I observed three adults, a child of three or so, and two dogs entering the apartment.
I was not happy.
The child runs and stomps until she smacks into something and falls down. Whereupon she commencing shrieking at full volume. The dogs bark. And bark. And bark. Bark. Bark. Bark. I was ready to contact the office on several occasions but kept my self in check waiting to see if it would get better.
Well today it did.
Seems that there is only one tenant above me, as promised. The extras were her daughter and granddaughter who were visiting for a month. This morning, while watching the windshield guy do his thing, I also got to watch a man loading the mini-van and a small U-Haul truck with various belongings. At one point I asked, “You aren’t moving out already?” To which he replied that his wife and daughter had been visiting her mom for the past month while he was away at training at Fort Leonard Wood.
Aha.
That explained the mis-matched license plates on the two vehicles. The mini-van was plated in Missouri while the sedan sports a Kansas tag. While I am not certain I am hoping that at least one (two? Please?) of the dogs goes away with the little stomper of joy.
So for once, holding my tongue kept me from looking like a dickhead. All those other times don’t count. Really. Okay, maybe that one time.
This morning’s windshield repair got off to an inauspicious start when the technician called me from my work location. Oops. Luckily it’s only about a 25 minute drive and he was able to come straight to the apartment.
In examining the situation he determined that the original rain sensor (what appeared to be a thick, rubbery film, was still on the sensor head. When combined with the new one on the windshield itself, the doubled thickness was enough to keep the epoxy from gripping and the head unit fell off. This, apparently was the problem during the second visit as well.
The guy this morning found the additional sensor and was able to get a good seating of the sensor head all the way around. I’ll keep the car out of the sun for an hour or so and then we’ll see. After all this futzing around I want to take it to the car wash and see if the rain sensing automatic wipers feature still works.
So far, so good though.
For the past several weeks my normal sleeping pattern has been disturbed. For years I’ve been able to lay down, close my eyes, and be asleep within minutes. It used to annoy Michele that I could be asleep and snoring before she even got comfortable. Maybe twice a year I’d have a bout of insomnia and, after sleeping for thirty or forty minutes I’d wake up and then be up for and hour or two.
In the last month I have had increasing difficulty even getting to sleep, much less staying asleep. I understand that my entire life has been thrown for a loop emotionally, and I suppose it isn’t outside of the realm of possibility that the emotional stress of Michele’s death coupled with my Mom’s death are having a delayed impact. No matter what the cause I am not enjoying not being able to just go to sleep.
I don’t want to take a sleeping aid like Tylenol PM unless I absolutely have to, and since I am eventually getting to sleep I’m not going start drugs just yet. But I need to find someway to readjust either my sleeping habits or my expectations around going to sleep. Maybe it’s time to shift from being an early bird to a night owl.
Recently, in a conversation with a good friend who, in an unbelievable twist of fate is also struggling through the aftermath of a spouse’s death, we talked about special days and ordinary days. The gist of it was that every single day was special for one reason or another. Sure there are “big” days like birthdays, anniversaries, and holidays; all of which are difficult. There are also ordinary days that have meaning through the context of a once shared lifetime together.
Two years ago this weekend was the first weekend Michele and I spent in Kansas City as new residents. Moving here was a last resort and a bitter pill to swallow. We were lonely for home, feeling cutoff from everyone and everything we had known, and scared of the future. We were also excited about new places to explore, new restaurants to try, and new career opportunities for both of us.
Nine years ago this month we were planning our wedding. The excitement of such a momentous affirmation of who were were and who we wanted to be was almost overwhelming. Nothing had ever felt so right, so good to me before. Now it seems as if that happened to another person. In just twenty-six days I will face what would have been our ninth wedding anniversary alone.
Six years ago we were in the midst of moving to South Carolina, stopping along the way to visit family. Michele learned of her Aunt Doris’ death and we drove all night from Illinois to North Carolina in order to attend her funeral. It was my introduction to her extended family. In spite of the somber reason for the gathering, it was special for me to meet the people who had always known Michele. Coming from a small family, being dropped into the midst of a large extended one was exhilarating.
Today is a Friday and for most of the time we lived in Illinois we met every Friday for lunch out. I still miss those lunches and I think about them every week.
Sure, the big days are hard, but in some ways the small, ordinary days are harder.