Till Life Do Us Part

My brother and I have both said that we don't really have any plans to go back to Florida until our grandpa dies. Which I think is sad and a little wrong - once he's dead, he won't care if we go visit him - he wants to see us while he's alive.

Thing is, as much as I love my grandpa (and I love him a lot), there's only so much we can talk about before we both need a break from each other. Plus he gets tired and has to rest. Not that it's tiring to talk with me - I'm capable of dialing down the intensity - he's just super old. Old people get tired.

Anyway. So my grandpa is in Florida and so are my parents. All of them want us to visit. Despite living there for four years, I don't really have any friends there. One girl who I was sort of friendly with e-mails me once in a while, but most of the time she's just asking me to vote for her daughter for some Cutest Kid in Florida contest or some shit (which, I never do, because I both don't think her daughter's cutest, I hate the fake professional pictures they make her take, and I don't believe in teaching little kids their worth is all in how they look).

My dad's birthday is in a few weeks. He has a twin, and her daughter, my cousin, is throwing the twin a surprise birthday party in New York. My parents were invited. Despite having lived in New York for more than forty years, nobody offered to let them stay at their house. So my dad isn't going to his own twin's surprise birthday party because he can't afford airfare, hotel and rental car for him and my mom.

When my father was telling me this, he said "If I were going to spend that much money, I'd rather visit you and [your brother] in San Francisco, though you might not." I said no, of course not, but really, yes, he's right. I don't want to see my parents.

For my father's 60th birthday, my mother was thinking of giving him (and herself) a trip out here to visit us. My brother and I agreed you can't give someone the gift of people who don't want them there.

And it's sad. So sad. I'm really worried my mother is going to die and then I'll wish I'd handled it all differently while she was alive. It's something I won't know until it's too late.

Updating

There are two reasons I had stopped blogging here.  One was that, with my old craptop, I had a very limited amount of time to use it before it would shut off,
and I thought paying bills was more important than blogging here.  The other reason is that I lost the piece of paper that had my username and password
written down.  Lame, I know.

But I have a new laptop now and have transferred my log-in info to a place it won't get lost.  And I've got a lot to say.

Relations with Crazy Girl are good.  They moved back to SF about half a year ago, and just bought a house.  I still don't know how to get there or leave
there and get home, but my brother's said he'll come pick me up at the train station some day to walk with me, so I get it.

I no longer feel like Crazy Girl is cruel to the dog.  Sometimes she does things with her I wouldn't do, but I don't think they're cruel things.  CG and I have
gotten together sans Golden Boy and it's gone well.  Honestly, I think I'm just not able to force myself to be traditional and that threw her off initially.

They got engaged over the summer.  I dogsat while they were on their weekend trip popping the question and when my brother called to say he'd done it, she'd
said yes, I got them balloons and a card and put them in their house as a surprise.

Last week I went to Thanksgiving at their new house.  CG cooked the best turkey I've ever eaten in my entire life.  CG was a bit nervous about her divorced
parents with their significant others, all being in the same place for the first time.  She got drunk towards the end of the night, and turned into the things I
used to hate about her.  She wasn't careful and tripped over the dog.  She dropped food on the floor and made no move to clean it up, or stop the dog from
eating it.  She was loud.  She whined. She was out of control.

My brother and I were cleaning up, and he kept asking her to please go sit down - one Thanksgiving when she got drunk, she tripped and slammed her face into
their kitchen island in LA - he didn't want her to get hurt.  Then she kept telling my brother to leave the food, the dishes.  We're not made like that.
After having a party, you clean up - you stay awake as long as it takes, late into the night, to clean everything up.  Plus, who wants to attract bugs?  Then
she was worried he was angry at her.  I could tell he was, but he kept insisting he wasn't, he just didn't want her to hurt herself.

It was awkward for those of us watching.  It was also awkward at the end of the night when a guest asked if he could smoke some weed, and my brother said,
"Sure, on the balcony."  And CG said the guy could smoke in the living room, and then they argued about it.  The guy went out on the balcony.  CG smoked too.

The day after Thanksgiving, I was very sick, so sick I couldn't even leave the house to get myself sick tools, like popsicles and tissues.  On their way home
from a sushi dinner, my brother and CG brought me both, and some chicken soup.

I am still their official dog-sitter.  I am embarrassed by how much I love their dog, and how happy it makes me to be around a dog.  But as far as I know, on the
GB/CG front, things are good.

Nothing like a little foreshadowing, so I'll just say, "I wish I could say the same about my relationship with my parents."  Heh.

What I'm Wishing Right Now

• That when I emailed people, they emailed me back.
• That I got more emails from people in general.
• That when I put myself out there, people were gentle or encouraging, or hell, at least acknowledged me
• That I didn't keep throwing myself out there only to get hurt
• That people would let it go when I tell them I am too sensitive to handle the rejection and they need to trust me on that.
• That my mother would just back the fuck off.
• That it hadn't taken me so long to find the fucking proper username for this damn blog.
• That the law firm I'm temping at would offer me a job already so I could stop paying $592 per month for COBRA
• That I felt better
• That I could just tell my mother I don't want any hanukah presents from her and she'd just accept that.
• That I wasn't so tired.
• That I make it to work early tomorrow, just a little bit, just early enough so I'm not late.
• That I had a dog. My wooden one is awesome. But, you know. It's not the same.
  

When It Came Time To End

So File Clerk and I were pretty friendly while working together. When I left at the end of May, we were both kind of bummed, and we promised to keep in touch. You know how that goes - sometimes it works, and sometimes the friendship peters out.

Mid-June, we met up for dinner in the Castro. We had a nice time. At some point in our conversation, the Gay Pride Parade came up. For those not in the know, Gay Pride is a weekend of various activities, it's not just one parade. There's the parade, the Dyke March, the Gay Pride Celebration, etc.

File Clerk tells me about going to the Dyke March. I ask why she went, and then say, "I guess that's a stupid question, since I'm straight and like to watch the Gay Pride parade." She hems and haws and then tells me she was in two long-term, very serious relationships. With women. File Clerk. You know - the one with an ex-husband. Who she did not divorce because she turned gay.

My friend says sexuality is fluid. I kind of understand it when she explains it, but not really. But whatever - I don't care that File Clerk is gay. She tells me she thought she'd told me previously. I shake my head no. Assure her it doesn't bother me. Tease her (she prides herself on being open-minded) that her assuming I'm closed-minded about gayness is closed-minded of her. We move on to talk about other things.

A couple of weeks later, we have plans to go get pedicures. She's never had one before. File Clerk calls me the day before to confirm. Her voice gets all low and soft and throaty.

You know, we used to see each other every day, and I think because of that we
took each other for granted. Now when we see each other it's because we
want to, we're making an effort, and I think it's taking our friendship to a new
level. And I think it's wonderful. I'm really glad our friendship is
evolving this way. Or maybe I'm just an idiot who's over-thinking this. Never mind.

File Clerk's speech both squicked me out and annoyed me.

1. I can not logic out what exactly made me uncomfortable, I can only say my gut reaction was that I was uncomfortable.

2. I love when people are passionate about things. File Clerk's backtracking at the end of her speech irritated the hell out of me. If you're going to say something, OWN IT! To me, that's the definition of backtracking. Backtracking is not when you say something, someone attacks it, and you clarify your position. People scream backtracking on Craigslist forums all the time. That's not backtracking. Backtracking is what File Clerk did. File Clerk has a habit of doing that.

So now, I pretty much want nothing to do with her. She said a few other things along the same vein as that first speech. No, I don't think she's hitting on me. For the most part. And yes, I see the incongruity of saying I encourage people to say how they feel, and then wanting to get away once they have.

Now that's where we are on the File Clerk front.

Dream a Little Dream

I woke up this morning realizing I had a dream that involved, among others, Stephanie Klein. A bunch of us were on a school bus and SK was sitting towards my left talking to people about her earrings. My friend Sabrina was sitting to my right looking sad and stressed. When I asked her what was wrong she said that her husband was at the lab. He'd just found out he had cancer and needed a kidney transplant. So I decided that since we were on a bus where all of us were friends with someone, if not all with each other, we should organize and see if any of us would be willing to be tested in case we were a match for James.

Some nitwit suggested SK be in charge of organizing this and she walked over to my friend, sat down next to her and started talking about how "I touch on kidneys in my new book Moose, a memoir about my time at fat camp. Well, not kidneys exactly but kidney beans. Or rather, how we had a salad bar at camp and everyone only ever wanted the croutons...."

Hug Me?

Let me just get this cleared up - I *do* like hugs. Some time ago, I think I said that I do not like hugs. Or that they make me uncomfortable. I did not explain properly, but now all these people run around thinking I hate hugs, which is wrong, Wrong, WRONG. I just hate hugs from my mother.

My mother used to spank me, then send me to my room, then call me back downstairs, where I had to say what I'd done wrong, that I was sorry, and what I'd do (or not do) differently in the future. Then she'd hug me. Sometimes I should NOT have been sent to my room. Sometimes I was angry and didn't think I deserved to be punished. I was not "over it" and did not want to be hugging my mother. But I was not a stupid kid and wanted her to stop being angry at me. I hugged her because she wanted me to. Those hugs made her feel better, not me.

My mother, I assume, didn't feel she got enough hugs for herself. That's my only explanation for why she hugged me so tightly that she actually hurt my ribs, and for so long. Also, my mother has a lot of issues which I'm not sure how to explain, but suffice it to say she doesn't shower as often as she should, and you notice that when you hug her.

The summer night my father took me (age 10? 11?) to the police station to leave me there because he'd had enough of me, he ultimately brought me home, and when I was back in my bedroom, I somehow came to be standing on my bed while he stood in front of me. "Do you want a hug?" I nodded and leaned forward, hugging the man who'd almost dumped me in a parking lot in the middle of the night. Despite my fear and exhaustion, I was not stupid then either, and again, was hugging my parent for them, to make them feel better.

To make a long story shorter, I had a mother who hugged me too much and a father who didn't hug me enough. Combine that with being picked on every single day in school, culminating in a high school graduation party comprised of only family, no friends. Combine that with going away to college for one semester where I also somehow managed to have no friends.

I grew uncomfortable with being touched, simply because it was so infrequent. Sometimes during yoga naptime, the yogi will go around to each person and rearrange their body, put them in a more relaxed position. After they place your arm the right way, they then place your palm the right way, and press gently into the middle of the palm. I have to resist the urge to squeeze their fingers when they do that to me. In the midst of all the thoughts racing through my head, I get tears in my eyes, because even here, human touch is so infrequent.

Even though it's so much more frequent than the hug every other weekend I'd get from my grandpa when I lived in Florida. So yeah. I don't dislike hugs, I welcome them. And if I hold on a little too long, now you'll know why.

Endings

Ending Number 1 - La Pooch:

She's fine. Late yesterday morning I finally was able to speak with my brother - he wasn't angry, said I handled it perfectly. They checked the dog when they got home but saw and felt nothing, and assume she worked whatever it was out of the pad of her paw while she was home alone. You know next time I see her I'm going to look at her paw to make sure I see nothing, but Whew!

Ending Number 2: File Clerk's Boyfriend:

I hate when people don't say "what happened" or "how it turned out" so even though I'm not working there any more, I feel compelled to share with you how it ended.

So I told you Joseph was old. What do old people have? That's right - even older parents. Joseph's mother croaked. FC went with him to the wake, and back to his sister's house - they both missed work for it. FC said it might have been the single most uncomfortable day of her entire life. Everyone there was old, she was young. They're all very wealthy, FC is dirt poor.

A week later, File Clerk's birthday came up, and Joseph brought her flowers at work, that he proudly marched through the halls and presented to her. FC didn't really want people at work knowing they were "dating", mostly because she was embarrassed, which obviously speaks volumes about whether or not she should have been dating him at all. But whatever, it's hard to say things sometimes.

Also for her birthday, Joseph had gotten tickets to some jazz festival thingie. Said tickets were very expensive. FC was feeling the pressure - knowing she was essentially using somebody. So as she left work that day, right before she and Joseph were supposed to go to the festival, she pulled him aside and told him she couldn't go. Yes, on her birthday, she broke up with Joseph.

File Clerk genuinely tries to be a nice person, so she didn't want to say "I'm breaking up with you because I know it's wrong of me to date someone I'm embarrassed to be seen with", and instead went with the "I'm just not attracted to you that way, and feel like it's wrong to go on."

Joseph was very, very upset, and they parted. Apparently Joseph went and stood for hours outside the festival trying to sell the tickets, to no avail. He then went home even more upset and called FC, crying and screaming. He demanded FC pay him back for one of the tickets, even though it'd been a birthday present. She laughed and said she didn't have the money to do that.
Very harshly, Joseph told FC he wanted a book back that he'd lent her. Things were tense between them at work that week, but it wasn't a big issue since they worked on different floors and didn't actually have to "work" together at all.

That Friday, Joseph marched into FC's file room, and told her he couldn't stand it anymore, and that was his last day. It was too painful for him to work in the same office she was in. When FC told me this she was almost in tears. She felt HORRIDLY! I told her not to, that he had a history of behaving immaturely, and this was the same thing.

Not even an hour later, FC e-mails me that we should go take a break to get hot chocolate across the street. As we meet in the hallway, her face is completely lit up. We don't speak until we're in the elevator. FC turns to me excitedly. "Dennis just told me Joseph was FIRED! They were going to do it last week, but held off a week, because his mom had just died. But he's not quitting because of me. He was fired. He LIED to me!"

So in a mere two-week span, Joseph's mother died, then his girlfriend dumped him, and then he got fired. What a terrible month for the guy!

Yesterday when I was leaving a day-time yoga class, I stood at the corner waiting to cross the street. Slightly in front of me was a man wearing what I can only describe as train-conductor overalls. With a plaid shirt, and a train-conductor hat over his bald head. The man was shorter than I was, and had Joseph's build. Holy crap, was I standing behind Joseph?! What would he be doing here? He doesn't live anywhere near here! But no, it wasn't him. Just some dude who likes train-conductor overalls.