Wednesdays at Forty-Something: A Year of the World Being Drastically Different

I feel comfortable saying that a year ago at this time, nobody was expecting the world to be so different just two weeks later. I arrived in Indinapolis, on January 31, 2020, with great anticipation of things to come: hobbies that I would take up, classes that I would enroll in (dance, tai chi, knitting, whatever), and avenues I would take to make friends. In February 2020, I got the car registered and received new Indiana Veteran plates for it. I transferred my Costco membership--everyone should be able to buy TP by the dozens, and applied for a new job at the local White House Black Market. I started there in the very beginning of March 2020. The first Sunday in March, I also drove up to Elwood to visit my Indiana cousins on what I had hoped would be the first of many Sunday gatherings.

Just a few days later, the world shut down. COVID-19 had come to America and caused our country and state leadership to put everything on hold. Businesses closed, services were no longer available, and there was a ton of uncertainty. I was in the middle of selling my house in Delaware and had to find ways to get paperwork signed and notarized so that the process wasn't held up. Thankfully, I discovered thumbtack.com and found a mobile notary. (I have since used Thumbtack to find a plumber and a lawn guy.)

All those plans I had were done. There would be no classes. There would be no new hobbies. I did take up an old one: watching Netflix. I renewed my subscription from 14 years prior so that I would have something to watch. $8.99/mo is a whole lot cheaper than getting cable or satellite. I watched some things for distraction and some things for education. If you've never seen 13th by Ava DuVernay, I highly recommend it. After living in Iowa and being many miles from anything, I didn't think my life could get any more sedentary.

I was wrong.

My apartment, here in Indy, was approximately 650 sq ft. I would sit at my desk and watch movies or I'd sit in my bedroom and read books. I didn't live in a neighborhood that would have been great for going for walks. I sat...for three months. The only other time I've sat for so long was during my 2.5 month road trip across the country back in 2016. By the time May 2020 rolled around, I was itching to get out of the apartment and find a house. It took less than a month to do so and, by mid-July, I was moving in. Thankfully, I had someone to help: my new boyfriend. We broke up a month ago, back in March, but it was nice to have someone to help me move in and get settled in the house.

At the end of September 2020, I got a new job. A full-time, 40+ hrs a week, job for the first time since I left the military in 2016. That was a big adjustment. I mean, in college, yeah, I occasionally had to get up early for an 8am class but those were never more than 3x week. This was getting up around 6am 5x week. Which soon became 4x a week when my ever-present migraines made it impossible for me to work every day. At that same time, I got a new membership to a local YMCA and started working with a personal trainer. It's been too long that I've been sedentary. It was time to be more physically active. Between the gym and walks at the local state park, I'm doing just that.

So now it's April 2021 and I'm excited to see how the rest of year pans out.

Wednesdays at Forty-Something: Moving, Part III

I was gonna continue on with this series, detailing all the things that happened while I was in Iowa but I've discovered that I just don't have the energy for it.

The long and the short of it is that my former best friend's husband is an alcoholic and when I expressed concern, I was accused of judging them in their home.  I can't deny that.  There's too much of a parallel between how much and often her husband drinks with that of my mom.  She died in 2018, after fighting poor health for the six years following her throat cancer diagnosis.  Which, in a sad twist, is something that the husband's father had.  Thankfully, he survived.  The husband's mother was also an alcoholic.  So, all the things that her husband's parents and my mom went through are very much possibilities for her husband.  It was my mistake to think that 27 years of friendship afforded me the privilege to say anything to that effect.

The other aspect of my judging them was witnessing the verbal abuse that my former friend subjected her husband to.  And, no, it has nothing to do with marriage.  It has to do with people.  You just don't scream at someone that they're "...a fucking idiot!" on the regular.  And you don't do it in front of the kids you share.

I said none of these things to anyone else.  I said them to her.  That was the judgement that I did.

Really, it's not that different from when I told another friend that it's probably not good for her to have so many different men over while she had a teenager in the house.

Hello!  I'm Nichole and, if we've been friends for 20+ years, I will feel like I can express concern about the bad habits I feel you're setting.  On the flip side, I welcome the feedback from you.  Even if I don't like it, I'll listen.

Wednesdays at Forty-Something: Moving, Part II

If you haven't read Part I, I've linked it here.

Part II is feeling like a research project.  Part I was more linear and took place in only one location: Delaware.  Part II has stuff going on in Delaware and Iowa and, really, a whole lot more going on.

Let's start by first painting the picture of what my situation was at the time this happened.  I hadn't lived in anyone else's place in more than 20 years.  I bought my first house in 1999 and sold it to buy the DE house.  I did live in an apartment during the first year while I was in DE but it was still mine.  I wasn't anyone's roommate or guest.  I had sold as much furniture as I could.  I did leave behind a few pieces but those were gotten rid of, somehow, by my realtor (at the time) and/or my neighbor.

The only furniture that I put in storage in Indianapolis was bedroom furniture and a Step Tantsu that I bought in Okinawa back in 2004.  So, a mattress set, a chesser, an armoire, a lingerie chest, my hope chest, the Step Tansu, a entryway table, 33 pieces of art, and, roughly, 30-40 boxes of stuff.  That's it.  It was quite the downsizing from what I started out with in that house, seen here in 2007 shortly after I moved in.  I mean, I even got rid of half my books and half my movies so that I didn't have to move them, knowing that I'd move things from storage to an apartment to a house in Indiana once I bought one.  All that I put in storage, fit into a 10' x 10' space.

On October 23, 2019, I set out for Iowa with my cats, my computer, and my clothes.  I had made a much, much earlier trip in 2018 to drop off a few boxes of things that I knew I wouldn't be needing for a year: photo albums and a good majority of my dresses. I made that trip mainly to drop of my Jeep because the middle child of my former best friend bought it from me.  It's crazy to think there was 14 months in between those two trips.  The time went so quickly.  Anyhow, this was my car last Fall, almost no empty space but still able to see out all the windows:

I stayed that night at a pet-friendly Hampton Inn in California, PA.  (Funny aside: I find it great humor in that PA has many towns and cities named after other states)  Got to Iowa on the 24th.  The driving and such was a good distraction from the fact that it was the one-year anniversary of the death of my mama.

To say it was an adjustment is an understatement.  I went from living in a house with only two cats, in which the only things that made noise were me, the cats, the TV, the computer, or the radio to living in a house of a family of four, two dogs, two cats, and a ferret.  The room I was staying in was in the fully finished, multi-room basement--seriously, all it needed was a kitchen for it to be its own living quarters--and it was right under the room where the family watched TV.  There was no insulation between the floor of that level and the dropped ceiling of the bedroom so every time someone walked across the floor or the dogs went tearing through that room, I heard it.  Every time the lever on the recliner released the footrest, I heard it.  It was a very loud pop that startled me on more than one occasion.

My cats were having a hard time, too.  neither of them are young any more: Buster is 15 and Shivers is 9.  Buster has always been pretty go-with-the-flow but Shivers is a little high-strung.  She started acting out in February 2019 when I put Mocha, my oldest kitty, down.  She got really picky about the litter box and if it wasn't totally clean, she'd poop outside of it.  Now, full disclosure, I was pretty lazy when it comes to litter boxes.  It was nothing to go four or five days before I scooped it out.  However, once she started pooping outside of it, I tried to make a concentrated effort to scoop it out more often.  Mind you, there were two large storage boxes that were used as litter boxes.  I still use them.  I had this kind originally but they were too short so I switched to these.

She would still occasionally poop outside the box but, when that happened, I cleaned it up and went about my business.  Needless to say, the carpet was looking pretty rough after eight months of this, especially since I didn't use any special cleaning spray.  I would just put toilet paper on the mess until I could scoop up the doodie, knowing that I would be replacing the carpet when it came time to sell the house.  In time, it just became something I would look out for: did Shivers poop outside the box?  It didn't happen every day.  Sometimes, it would be a week or so before it happened again.

Why am I talking about this?  Because it contributed to me having to leave Iowa.  But, I'm getting ahead...

Now, the former best friend was fully aware of the situation.  She and her daughters were in my house for five days in May of last year.  Shivers pooped outside the box on, at least, one occasion while they were there AND there were stains on the carpet from the two months of accidents prior to their visit.  But, when it came time for me to move, I'd become accustomed to the issue.  It didn't faze me when she had an accident.  I wasn't tracking frequency or anything so when the former BFF asked if she was doing better, I assured her that the cat was doing better.  Little did I realize what would happen when we moved into a house with four other people, two dogs, two other cats, and a ferret.

The accidents started happening the very next day, very early in the morning, and UNDER the bed.  After the second time--one in which I had to cut off part of the hanging box spring liner because it was ON the liner (you know, that part that covers the springs so that nothing gets in between the springs? yeah, ON that part)--I took the mattress set off the metal frame and put in directly on the carpet.  That way, if there was an accident, it would be MUCH easier to get to.

Let's segue away a bit from discussions of poop.  Let's talk about mattresses for a moment.  In February 2018, I replaced my mattress set with an awesome mattress set.  Not quite Cadillac Escalade level but definitely in the "super comfy to me, I never want to get out of bed" category.  That mattress set got put in storage.  The mattress set I was sleeping on...I don't know when it had last been replaced.  I don't think it was that old but I was feeling its affordability.  As a single person with no kids, I don't have to choose between a good mattress and getting braces on the kids.  I get the good mattress.  In this case, the kids got braces. 

So, I was sleeping on a mattress that wasn't mine, my cat was waking me up on, a daily basis, in the wee hours, and there were buffalo that tromped through the room upstairs on weekdays in the early morning.  Basically, sleep was NOT happening.  When I did sleep, it wasn't restful because I was half listening for the hershey squirts that came out of my cat's ass.

The hours of being awake were different kinds of challenges.  I had moved to a place that was seven miles from its nearest "town", population 1003.  It had one grocery store that was sparsely stocked, one gas station, and a few other small businesses.  The next largest town was 20 miles away.  Thankfully, it has a population that is large enough to warrant many businesses to include a YMCA.  I signed up for a membership, there, in mid-November but, again, I'm getting ahead of myself.

The week after getting to Iowa, I wanted to be sure I was doing my part to provide a bit for the folks in whose house I was a guest so I signed up for a Costco membership.  What better place to get a whole bunch of stuff than Costco, right?  In the first two weeks, I had to find a place to get the food that my cats ate and a place to get kitty litter that might help with the issues that Shivers was having.  That place and Costco were in Des Moines, 65 miles away.  So was the mall.  If I wanted to meander around a bunch of stores and people watch, I had to drive 65 miles.  It was in this mall that I had planned to transfer my part-time job from Delaware to Iowa but after making that drive a couple times, I realized it wasn't going to happen.

The autonomous city mouse was very much in the country and trying to adapt to new surroundings and situations.  It was very difficult.

What was also difficult was to see my former best friend in a different light.  In that past, I didn't pay a tremendous amount of attention to some of her behaviors or those of her family.  My visits were usually quite short and focused having fun while out and about doing things.  I had had a glimpse during my "drop off the Jeep" visit back in 2018 but, again, I didn't process it like I did while actually living with them.

During the 2018 visit, the whole gaggle of folks--friend, her husband, their three kids, the oldest's boyfriend, and I--made a trip to the Amana colonies.  We took two cars and left around, I think, 9 in the morning.  We arrived an hour or so later.  We walked around, had lunch, walked around some more, and by 2 o'clock, I was ready to go.  I was done.  So was the oldest daughter and her boyfriend.  The former friend was irritated that we wanted to leave but we left anyway.  I wish I had my own car but that had been bought by the middle child already.  We went back to the house and hung out/decompressed.  The friend, her husband, and her two other kids didn't get back until much later.  I don't remember what time.  I just remember that they stayed there and had dinner.  She was still irritated that we didn't stay with them and finish the day as a family.

That was the glimpse that I didn't process or dig into.

(This is pretty long and there's more to come so I'll publish this and move on to a Part III)

Wednesdays at Forty-Something: Moving, Part 1

Back in late spring/early summer 2019, I had to find a new lawn guy; and saw a few recommendations for one in a fb group that I'm part of, N, The Lawn Barber.  I called him and he came out to give me an estimate.  While we were talking, I mentioned that I'd be selling my house and he recommended his friend, T.  I had already met with one realtor but thought it would be good to meet with one or two more, so I said "sure" to meeting this guy.  He came out that day.  I decided to use his services.  By this time, the lawn guy had taken care of my lawn once and I wasn't happy with the result.  I texted him a few days later to let him go.

In late August, my realtor and the guy he works with for minor repairs, R, did a walkthrough of the house to discuss needed repairs.  I asked him to send me an invoice, detailing everything we discussed/identified.  A month later, my realtor asked if I had heard from the repair guy and I said no and that I also hadn't reached out.  Realtor said they were in communication and that I should get it soon.

In September, I received a whammy in my actual moving plans.  The woman who, just months prior, had confirmed that she could still help me move, backed out.  She didn’t actually tell me until I had texted her to find out which day she was able to fly out from the Midwest.  Her reason was that she had been willing when it would be her and her boyfriend but since they had broken up, she wouldn’t be able to do it on her own.  Mind you, they broke up in May or June, a few weeks after I confirmed with her and months before I sent the text.

Why was this such a whammy?  Because the original plan was for them to drive the Uhaul and me to drive my car, both full up with stuff.  We would drop off the stuff off at an Indianapolis storage place, turn in the Uhaul, and then all of us would head to Iowa, where they lived and I’d be staying for a few months until I sold my house in Delaware.  When she cancelled, I had to replan the entire trip.  The biggest issue I had with the initial cancellation was that she waited so long to tell me and, in the year since I had initially asked her, not once did she say “If the boyfriend can’t do it, I won’t be able to help.”  I wasn't expecting her to know they would break up but she should, at the very least, know that she wouldn’t be able to help by herself.

I did find someone a couple days later, who would be able to help; within the same time frame, using the same game plan.  A week later, they cancelled because an important issue came up that required them to go out of the country. 

When the first person cancelled on me, I asked them to send back the EZPASS that was in my old Jeep.  See, back in summer 2018, I sold my Jeep to her little sister and left the EZPASS in it because I had a feeling that they’d all be coming out for my college graduation in May 2019.  Leaving that for them saved them quite a bit of money on the toll roads between their place and mine.

I would need that EZPASS for the Uhaul.  Well, they had lost it.  Some time between May and August 2019, they lost property that wasn’t theirs.  This still gets me a little salty because when you pull the transponder from one vehicle and put it in another, a responsible person would, upon return, put it back in the original vehicle or put it some place that it wouldn’t get lost.  Having lived in that household for three months, I now know there is no safe place and the Jeep would have, ultimately, been the best place to put it.

So, come October 2019, I have nobody to help me move and no extra EZPASS so I decided to just do it all myself.  I would drive the Uhaul to Indy, fly back, and then drive my car out to Iowa.  It was also at this time that I asked if the house repair guy would be okay with getting paid upon selling because I didn't have the full (tentative) amount that he had mentioned during the walk through.  I still didn't have a written estimate.  The repair guy said he wasn't comfortable with that.  I wasn't surprised by this answer, but the question was worth asking.  Mid October comes and I still haven't received an invoice.  I got in contact with another repair guy that a friend recommended.  He completed the walk-through and invoice was emailed within 72 hours.  I communicated to the first guy that I wouldn't be using his services.  I mean, seriously, when you can't generate an invoice in two months, it's time to go.

During this time, I was also trying to figure out how I was going to get my stuff loaded on the Uhaul because none of my friends were available.  My realtor suggested going with N because he did moving services as a side gig.  This was the guy who didn't work out as a lawn guy.  Since lawn stuff and moving are apples and oranges I decided to go ahead contact him.

Come the day to load my stuff, N and two other guys were there.  N didn't move anything.  The two guys do.  During one part of hauling stuff out of my house, they had to move a big chesser.  Kind of a dresser.  Kind of a chest of drawers.  It's 2' x 6' x 5'.  At this point, N decided to assist.  I was outside while they figured out how to get it out of my upstairs room, around the corners, and down the stairs.  When they did make it outside, I saw that they had had to put it upside down to get it out.  Why?  I don't know.

They were going to put it on the truck that same way.  Uh, no.  Right side up, please.  I had removed all the drawers prior to them moving it so that it was much lighter.  I needed it right side up so that I could put the drawers back in.  They got it on the truck and while I was putting the drawers in, I noticed they had scratched the bottom edge of the dresser so bad that I got a splinter when I ran my hand over it.  I pulled N aside and get a bit angry about the damage.  He didn't apologize.  Instead, he threatened to pull the crew and leave me to do the rest myself.  I told him to continue with the loading. They finished up a couple hours later.  It took four hours or so, total.

These pictures are the front edge of the top of the dresser.

This is the front edge of the bottom of the dresser.  Where it looks like smudges is where they forced it so hard down the corner of a wall that it left paint on the dresser.  The corner of that wall?  It was flattened by 1/4" for a length of almost two feet.

I left the next morning for Indianapolis.  It took two days to get there.  It rained the whole time and was quite a miserable drive.  Luckily, once I got to Indy, it cleared up and unloading was easy peasy.  I had found a crew via moving.com and they helped me unload.  They were also nice enough to follow me to the Uhaul place and then take me to the rental car agency.  Once I got my rental car, I drove to the hotel and stayed there until I flew out three days later.  After those previous three weeks, I NEEDED to decompress.

I flew back to Delaware and commenced packing up the rest of my stuff--the stuff that I would need in Iowa while I was there, including my cats—and get rid of the furniture that I didn’t take to Indy.  I got all that done the second to last week of October and was in Iowa by the 24^th.  Driving in a small SUV is definitely much easier than driving a 15’ Uhaul.

I’ll leave my story of living in Iowa for the next post.

Wednesdays at Forty-Something: A Domino of Events These Past Five Months

After that last post about homeownership, things got hectic and there were quite a few adjustments made in the past six months.  The week after the post, I started the Fall term of my last year towards my Bachelors degree as well as the first class towards my MBA.  I ended up taking only one Grad class because a second one would have put me at 21 credits.  More than 18 credits means the college charges me a fee.  I didn't feel like paying an extra $2000 so I didn't take the second Grad class.

However, because of how things were going to play out, I knew that I would need Student Loans for the Summer 2019 term.  Unfortunately, the Financial Aid rep gave me inaccurate information which resulted in me applying for FA six months too soon.  Having been a GI Bill student since 2017, I was not well informed about how FA works and trusted that the FA rep would lead me correct.  I was wrong.  As a result, I ended up with Student Loans last Fall.  I pondered: Do I just put the money right back towards the SL when the VA pays my tuition or do I put the money towards something else?  My tuition didn't get paid until nearly the end of Oct which gave me a month to figure out what I was going to do.  I ended up putting my 5.05% SLs towards my 9.99% HVAC debt.

Two days after this, my mother passed away.  I was very sad but really not surprised by this event.  She'd been sick for years--diagnosed with throat cancer in 2012--and her living situation wasn't the best.  What made this worse was that a friendship dissolved right before my eyes within days of this occurrence.

In December 2017, I had introduced (someone whom I'd thought was) a good friend to my mom while I was in Fresno.  They hit it off and I asked her--Reanna, is her name--if she could stop in every couple weeks to visit with my mom and take her out to eat or to Target.  She said it would be no problem.  Early 2018, I sent her a few hundred $$ worth of gift cards so that she wouldn't have to come out of pocket to do these things for my mom.  This is someone whom I'd never asked anything of except, on a couple occasions over the years, to stay at her apartment while I was in town.  While I was her guest, I paid for some groceries and also took her to WHBM to get her some new clothes since hers were a mishmash of items that didn't match, didn't fit, and really didn't suit for when she needed to present a put-together or professional appearance.  Since 2016, I have taken her shopping a couple times to help her out.  The first time was for the reason stated above.  After that, it was to add to what I bought the first time and/or because she lost weight and things didn't fit any more.  I had also sent her money to help her get a better apartment or to help get things for her daughter.

I share this info to give context to why I didn't think it would be a big deal to ask her if she could visit my mom or take her out for lunch or shopping.  Reanna and I had a friendship.  When friends need help, you help them.  When you need help, you ask them for it.  This is also why I didn't think twice about sending her gift cards.  I TRUSTED that she would use them for the reasons they were intended.

What hurt is, after my mom passed, I looked back at the message, text, and other facebook history to see if and when she'd been able to take my mom out.  Mind you, Mom passed October 24th, 2018.  The last time Reanna took my mom out: FEBRUARY 2018.  I was also hurt by the fact that her only acknowledgement regarding my mom passing--a woman whom she'd said she'd check in on--was one comment on a post, DAYS after my mom passed: Sorry for you loss.  No DM/PM; no additional comments on my fb page; nothing.  I got ghosted.  And when I called her out about it, I got chastised.

Me (Nov 7):

I'm hurt and angry.  You never messaged me like you said you would.  You've yet to reach out to see how I'm doing.  And you've ignored my messages for nearly two weeks now.  I posted the poo meme for all those reasons.

I can't,  for the life of me, figure out why you wouldn't take 11 or 12 minutes out of the past two weeks to send me a message.

Hell, even my positive comment when you were asking for prayers, netted me no response.

Is that it?  My mom dies and you drop me as a friend, just without the fb friend delete?

Reanna (Nov 7):

No because I've been working 16 hour days with only one day off which is my only day off and having lupus I need that day to rest and try to recoup. I've been working 2 jobs. I'm not home until this time at night. Then it's time for me to eat, walk the dog, feed the dog and cat, get my kid in bed, get her ready for tomorrow, get my self ready for bed and prepared for tomorrow and start all over at 430 am. I am completely exhausted working from 8 to 2 then picking both girls up from school, therapies, neurology appointments, meeting with the school, track meets, speech therapy, OT Etc... Until 5 when I start my next job again with both girls on tow until 10 pm. So if I had time to reach out I would of. But what little time I DO have thus far is spent resting so I don't end up in the hospital because of my lupus. Christa grandma past and I haven't messaged her and yet she understands as to why I haven't. I didn't drop you as a friend I've just been busy being a SINGLE MOM because right now that is my priority. Getting my kid the help she needs and also trying to manage my health as well.

Me (Nov 7): 

I'm not Christa.  I'm not going to behave like Christa.

I didn't realize that Christa's grandmother was on the same level: someone whom you said you'd visit every few weeks.

Whatever the case, could you send back the gift cards?  Your schedule is jam packed and I don't want them to go to waste due to lack of use.

Thanks.

Message when you get a breather.

And try not to hold my grief against me.

I get that people are busy.  I get that people have crappy health and work two jobs.  What I don't get is how someone would try to make me believe that they NEVER have ANY downtime when I see numerous fb posts to the contrary, specifically Reanna posting about waiting times and sitting in waiting rooms, etc.  Again, I wasn't expecting something super lengthy but something more than "Sorry for you loss" is not unreasonable to expect from someone who is supposedly a good friend.

On Nov 15th, Reanna posted a screenshot of something in which I thought she was complaining about adding to her list of things that she already has to do and I responded that she could say "No".  A friend of hers took me to task as did Reanna:

As I will not apologize for anyone's behavior except my own... I will say this. She's not the only one upset at what was said here and the shit post on Facebook. I've given you my explanation via messenger. I've been working 12/16 hour days some of those days are with 2 children in tow. This is to help pay for my car to be fixed and a full psych eval for my child that's not covered by insurance. That only leaves me 8 hours in a day to go to therapy/homework/cook/clean and still spend time one on one with my child. Accepting this position would not only give me a voice for my child in school but also for other children and parents as well. I'm willing to cut back work for that. My priorities are to my child/my health/my clients. Although, I am saddened that your mom passed... And did say publicly my condolences, I do recall not one person checking in on me when an aunt that I was very close to passed from cancer a few months ago. Am I upset by that? No! We all live extremely busy lives and I get it. The public condolences and prayers were enough. I know my friends deeply and know that they will ALWAYS have my back in thoughts and prayers. Not to mention most of my friends also have a chronic illness such as myself and children with special needs so they require as much downtime and peace as I do. Many even ask how I keep going the way I do with what I have. I have a child who has needs that need to be taken care of $1500 psych exam plus $150 for the meeting with the school she needs to go and a car to be fixed $3000 worth of damage that I don't have laying around. But to post on my Facebook and yours to try to draw me into some kind of argument, I will not do it. Seems as though you may have a bit of anger projection/narcissistic traits that thanks to almost 2 years of therapy now I can recognize and won't entertain them. Again, I am sorry for your loss. And if I'm faulted for being a shitty friend but yet an AMAZING MOM AND AUNTIE, then my priorities are straight.

It is NOT narcissistic to think that a friend would say more than "Sorry for your loss" but Reanna feels/felt differently.

At this point, I really just wanted to get the giftcards back so that I could send them to a friend who was homeless (or damn near--it's been three months so I don't remember what, exactly, that friend's situation was).  When I asked her, on Nov 17th, when I could expect the gift cards, Reanna replied with this:

More than likely after December 1st since I'm working today and tomorrow until way late and leaving 3 am Monday for Arizona

I followed up on Dec 2nd, Dec 9th, and Dec 11th.  Other than a post on Dec 11th, I don't dwell on the situation.  But the stress got revisited with subsequent events in December, January, and this month.  Oh, I never did get the gift cards back.  Essentially, Reanna stole from me.  We'll call it misappropriation of funds by a layperson.

At the end of December, further research into the soka gakkai made me realize that what I wary of regarding this supposed Buddhism organization was true, to an extent.  Although not an actual Multi-level Marketing "business", it had many parallels; more importantly, it was not a study of Buddhism.  It was the study of Daisaku Ikeda, the sgi president.  Everything that the organization studies, reads, or references is by or about Daisaku Ikeda.  It's like saying you study Christianity but the only thing you read or study are books and such by Joel Osteen...or T.D. Jakes...or Joyce Meyer....but not the actual bible.  The sgi studies none of the original Buddhist teachings.  They study the perception of them, the opinion about them, but not the ACTUAL teachings.  Realizing this, I cancelled my subscriptions to sgi publications on Dec 21st.  I was on vacation at the time so there wasn't anything else I could do until I got home.  

On January 3rd, I sent this email to the district in which I was assigned, along with a copy of the member resignation letter that I had mailed to sgi-usa headquarters that afternoon:

Hello everyone!

I've attached the January calendar.  It is the last task that I will complete as an sgi member.  I will no longer participate in an organization that says it teaches Buddhism when, in fact, the sgi is all about the study of a man.  I joined to learn about Buddhism not participate in Ikedaism.

I realize that seasoned members may get their dander up and dispute this claim but we need look no further than the January Living Buddhism to have it proven true.  Let's take a look, shall we?

An excerpt from NHR by Ikeda

A monthly message from Ikeda

Good to Know that references an Ikeda book

Fundamentals that excerpts an Ikeda article

Ikeda Wisdom Academy questions that reference an Ikeda book

An article that excerpts "guidance" from various things by Ikeda

A 26-page item that discusses the NHR, complete with a picture of all the volumes

An experience that refers to Ikeda many times

A 5-page article that discusses "Shin'ichi"

The Mentor-Disciple piece

The Study Section from Ikeda's lecture series "...Sun Illuminating..."

Ikeda's collected works "...Creating Happiness..."

The back cover is an advertisement for the newest book "A Baptist Preacher's Buddhist Teacher"

I didn't join to study Ikeda's thoughts, perspectives, or outlooks.  I joined to study the teachings of many authors. 

I will not be dissuaded from my decision.  It was made of my own free and rational will.  My sustaining contributions have been terminated and my subscriptions have been cancelled as well.  And, NO, I will not chant about it; besides, the alter is disassembled.

To quote Maxine Waters: "Reclaiming my time!" from the time-suck that is soka gakkai ikedaism.

I received only one negative response which was to say that I shouldn't have used the positive cause of sending out the calendar to also express my personal opinions about president ikeda, especially to the new members.

Um, I HAD to send it the new members.  I was OBLIGATED to send it to the new members.  I had to share with them why I was leaving...that people actually DO leave the sgi.  Two people from the district are still friends.  They each backed off the sgi but still practice a bit.  I didn't make it my mission to change people's minds about whether they practice or not.  I made it a mission to provide them the other side of the coin, additional information about the practice.  If you ask people who love Brussel sprouts why other people HATE them, you don't get an answer.  You have to solicit information from many perspectives.

Two weeks after this all happened, I started the Spring term: four Undergrad classes and one Grad class.  I really enjoy the Undergrad classes.  The Grad class has been a struggle.  The instructor is an egomaniac.  He also employs outdated methods: four hours of lecture, none of which was essential to completing the Midterm--nor will it be necessary to completing the Final--but we're required to attend the class.

Then February came.  On February 8th, I had to put a kitty down.  She's been sick for years and was showing evidence of decline in quality of life.  I took the other two kitties with me to the vet so that they would know what happened and wouldn't be looking for her when I came back from the vet.  We were there for about an hour and a half.  Of course, that day had to be a "good" day for Mocha.  But, I'd rather put her down while things are still good-ish rather than wait and realize that I should have done it sooner.  Buster and Shivers have drawn closer to each other and are enjoying the fact that I now leave the bedroom door open for them.  Before, Mocha's episodes were something that woke me up if she was in the room.  She would sound like she was retching up a hairball but there was no hairball.  And this happened every night.

So, it's this series of events, since October, that reinforced how small--almost nonexistent--my support system in Delaware really is.  I have NO family here.  No best friend of 27 years.  That needs to change.  This summer, I'm putting the house on the market and am moving out of the state.  First, to Iowa, to save up some money; and then, to Indiana, to, hopefully, get settled into my life, once and for all.

All in all, things are going not so bad.  I'll graduate in May, get the house prepped for selling, and then I'm outie.  I plan to be out of the state by late Summer, if not sooner.

Oh, if you cross paths with Reanna, give her some happy thoughts.  As bad as it was before, her health has gotten worse and she's dealing with additional challenges with her pre-preteen daughter's health and well being.  Maybe give her a few dollars, too, 'cause nothing's cheap in California, especially healthcare.

Wednesdays at Forty-Something: Homeownership is NOT for the Faint of Heart

I'm closing in on a decade of homeownership in my current house and, let me tell you: It's not easy by any stretch.  For decades, now, I've realtor friends talk about how much more cost effective it is to own your own house.  When you compare monthly payments, yeah, it probably is BUT when you compare overall costs, it's really not.

I bought my first house at the tender age of 23.  I was single and had just made E4.  I was anxious to move out of the base dorms and have more space and freedom.  As much as I loved moving into my first house, I think I would have waited.  I think I was a little blinded by the potential to receive more money just for living off-base.  Keep in mind, this was awhile before Housing Allowances were as (proportionally) high as they are now.  When I received my BAH, it covered only 3/4 of my living expenses.  My gross monthly pay was about $1400 and my monthly BAH was about $300.  After taxes and other deductions, my take-home was about $1100.  My mortgage was $840.  Plus there was the cost of Maslow's other needs, frivolities, and a credit card (or three).  I don't remember the cost of upkeep and maintenance but I do remember paying $2000 to remove five or six very large Fir trees from the yard because they were in close proximity to the house.

When I moved to Japan, for three years, I kept the house and an aunt moved into it.  She paid the utilities.  I paid for everything else.  Thankfully, my living expenses in Japan were covered by an Overseas Housing Allowance and a Utility Allowance but the stateside mortgage wasn't covered.  Even so, I was able to pay off the credit card debt that had followed me to Japan.  However, that victory was short-lived because, when I moved back to the States, the discontinuance of those Overseas Allowances cut my take-home by 25%.  I wasn't able to live in the dorms so I HAD to live off-base.  I found an apartment as soon as I got to Dover.  I also bought a car because, well, getting to/from work was important.  So, moving back Stateside netted me monthly rent, a car payment, and utilities again ALONG WITH the mortgage that I was still paying.

A year after I arrived in Delaware, I began looking for a new house to buy.  The high-density establishments (read: apartments) in Dover aren't great.  They are far overpriced for the amenities that you (DON'T) get.  My goal was to find a house that cost less than the combined payments of my mortgage and my rent.  That wasn't too difficult considering those two items totaled more than $1600.  I found a house, bought it using an 80/20 Conventional loan, and moved in during February 2007.  Thankfully, in the years between the two purchases, my gross pay had increased to $2600 per month and BAH to just under $500.

Two months after I moved in, I had eight windows replaced.  They were old, metal-framed storm windows and were super inefficient.  They cost me nearly $9000 but I imagine I've saved at least that amount in energy costs since the air isn't whooshing out giant "holes" in the walls.  That was the first of many expenses incurred for this house.

Since then, home improvement costs have ran the gamut:

$380 in 2010 to install ceiling fans in two bedrooms, install lighting in the attic, and reroute some electrical conduit.
$3130 in 2014 to install Gutter Guard on all the rain gutters (now debris goes over the gutter rather than getting stuck in it).
$1875 also in 2014 to make improvements to the a/c system that would not have been needed to be made if it had been installed correctly to begin with.
$2849 in 2015 to install wood-look tile in the kitchen, dining room, laundry room, 1st floor bathroom, and front entry.

That's more than $17,000 spent in just eight years and that doesn't include the revamp to my front yard where I replaced my postage stamp patch of grass with river rock and a short stone wall border.  I think that was another $2000 or $3000, back in 2013.

Those were all done while I was Active Duty and making a nice chunk of change.  That chunk changed when I retired in 2016.  My take-home income drop by 2/3 that year though, in 2017, it did increase some when my Disability kicked in but the maintenance and upkeep on the house has yet to slow down.

$4999 in 2016 on new attic windows (the old ones were the originals, I think) and roof repair.
$4926 in 2017 on new front and kitchen doors.

Having a 200 year old house makes for increased labor charges because NOTHING on the house is plumb.

So...that brings the total spent to about $30,000 in 12 years.  That doesn't include the $1600 to get rid of the termites in the cellar and wood-boring beetles in the attic in 2016.  Nor does it include the, roughly, $10,000 that I've spent on yard maintenance, replacement appliances, and other nit-noid repair and upkeep items.  That brings the total to more than $40,000.  I will share that I have additional preventative maintenance in the works.  My two a/c systems and my water heater are approaching the end of their lifespans.  Replacing them is next in the works.  That's another $15,000-$23,000 for everything.

I will concede that I do tend to choose to pay for great customer service and, therefore, might pay more than the average person for these things but, even if I chose the less-expensive options, it's still a chunk of money invested in the house.

None of these would be MY expenses in a rental.  With that, I'll never own again.  I would rather spend $40,000 on experiences and time with friends and family than on a house that isn't my final abode.

Wednesdays at Forty-Something: Letting Go Again

Well, here I am, four months after writing this post about my guy, writing about my fella.  Like my guy, he wasn't willing or able to give what I need.  My needs haven't changed from when I typed that last post.  Each of them wanted to give me what I need but, for their own reasons, they couldn't or chose to take care of other aspect of their lives.  There is nothing wrong with that.  It's a form of self-care and I totally understand.  Even if I don't like that I'm not the center of their universe (why, I don't know lol), I can understand having to take care of yourself.  Hell, even flight attendants tell you to put on your own oxygen mask before helping the person next to you.

So, I'm officially, completely, totally single again.  Haven't been here in almost two years but, really, when your relationships are long distance, it doesn't look that much different whether you're single or not.

I had originally planned a much longer post but, after reading the post from March, to do so would just be redundant.  I will add that I wish both men a contented future with challenges that shape them into the people that they aim to be.

On a separate note, I passed the Spring term with four As and two Bs and earned the Dean's List again.  My fourth time in four full-time terms and I'm aiming to complete both semesters of my Senior year of Undergrad in the same manner.  I know I'll achieve it, as focused as I get when I'm attending school.

Wednesdays at Forty-Something: Letting Go of What It's Supposed to Look Like

When I was a kid, I used to play dress up in my mom's old clothes.  I'd also play act various scenarios with my friends: cops & robbers, hide n seek, statues, etc.  With my female friends, we'd play that someone was getting married--which usually involved yanking flowers off the neighbor's beautiful flowering bush--or we'd play office or some other women/girl-centric scenario.

Never, though, did I imagine that I'd be this age in life and on my own.  It just seemed like everyone had a spouse and kids.  Even if parents were divorced, there was a step-parent in the picture, so the home was still fairly nuclear.  Keep in mind, the age that I'm referencing was still in single digits so it would be years before my own parents tore the family apart.

And here I am, 30 years after this play-acting took place...never been married; had kids but not a parent; pursuing an education that nobody in my immediate family--mom, dad, grandparents--did...or will, for that matter.  Both my brother and my dad have had multiple marriages.  My mom is still with the man that was "the straw" in a tall stack of hay for the camel that was my parent's marriage.  I think she stays with him because it's easier than learning to live on her own at 65.  THAT is a scary prospect when you've never lived on your own.

I've talked marriage with two men in my life; many, many years ago.  I'm thankful it didn't happen the last time because I'd be stuck in my hometown doing goodness knows what while he fished and hunted ALL.YEAR.ROUND.  I think that would be a more lonely existence than what I currently have; but I'm not sure.  We had a good relationship during the two years that we were together but I know I would have wanted more and I would have wanted out of Fresno.  Fresno is a hell-hole.

At nearly 42, I'm in love with two men.  They each do their best to show me but, I'm finding, that "best" doesn't always work for me.  On more than one occasion, I don't feel visible enough.  I need to be told that I'm missed, that I'm wanted, that I'm loved.  Hell, I need my texts and messages to be responded to in a timely manner.  Truly, not too much to want or need.  The hard part is when I realized that all the things that I do are not going to result in me getting the things that I need; and that I have to do something different if my needs are to be met.

The unfortunate thing is that I know what it is to regret a decision.  To give in to someone not wanting an aspect of the relationship and I let them go.  But...will I regret staying in this situation or will I regret letting it go?  I have to make the choice and, if the current situation isn't working and that's what the foreseeable future looks like, then I have to be the one to make the decision.

If I hear from them, I feel like I know they're thinking about me.  When you're involved with someone...when you love someone...you want to know that they think about you.  If you don't hear from them or otherwise have any indication, how can you know they're thinking about you?  I don't want to wonder any more.  Communication is more than a general sharing of memes on facebook.  It's more than liking a status or post.  It's conversation just between the two of you.  And it's initiated on either end; not just one.

I love you, guy, but I gotta let you go.  In this current state, we're not good for each other.  You're not giving me what I need and I'm going to always resent that.  I can't let that continue.  I want us to stay friends.  I don't want to reach a point where I think you're an asshole because you didn't give me what I need, even if it's just because you're don't have the capacity to do so right now.  Maybe our paths will cross again.  Who knows.

Wednesdays at Forty-Something: I'm Lonely...Every Day

Had a conversation yesterday that prompted me to make an appointment with Behavioral Health.  The first one is tomorrow, Feb 8th.  I don't know if I can really outline all the reasons why I chose to pursue this.  I see them all much like that compilation of labels for this blog, down on the bottom of the right side-bar: just a cloud of many different things that, depending upon what is drawing the most energy, may have one or two items that are more prominent than most.  But one thing that is constant is loneliness.  I am lonely every day of my life.  Not all day but, yes, every day.  The only time this isn't true is when I'm not at home.  

Nobody visits me at my home.  Unless I'm hosting a chanting session for/with my Buddhism family for the month.  Other than that, the mailperson is the only person who steps on my porch.  I do have one friend who has come to visit but since I haven't yet replaced the soiled mattress in the spare room, they haven't been able to.  So, other than when I hosted in November, my house has seen no visitors since early October.  Last night would be another exception.  Someone who is new to my Buddhism family hung out for a few hours when they dropped me off and we gabbed for a good three hours.  THAT makes me optimistic.

I was told that being lonely is a choice and that being alone is also a kind of choice.  Yes, from a perspective, I do choose these things.  I choose them because I get tired of having to be the one to go to other people's houses.  I get tired of never being invited over.  I get tired of having to go to a person's workplace to visit with them because they never come to mine.  I get tired when I realize that maybe I'm trying to maintain one-sided endeavors.

I was also told that I purposely chose to get involved with men whom I can see only part-time so that I don't have to fully commit.  I don't know if that is true or to what extent it may be true.  I know that I don't want to become so involved with someone that I lose myself; that I, like so many friends I've seen, have no single friends, only associate with other couples, and don't know what to do with myself if my partner/spouse isn't there to do it with me.  I don't need someone to complete me.  I don't NEED anyone.  I would like someone who complements me...someone who compliments me is nice too.  I WANT, I don't NEED.

None of this awareness makes me any less lonely.  When things get really low, I reach out...or, as it was described, I lash out.  This is true.  This reach out comes from such a place of pain that it's all I can do.  It's much like a wounded animal who wants to heal but bites at the hand trying to help.  Being lonely is just all I know.  Like people who experience chronic pain, who don't know what it's like to be pain-free, except for those rare and extremely brief moments when a pain medication works just right.

For me to really feel not lonely for an extended period time, I have to travel 1000 miles or more to the places where my best friends and family live.  Some of my friends tease me because I plan my trips so far in advance.  If you knew that you'd have a reprieve from your chronic discomfort, wouldn't you plan those moments meticulously?  Plan them so that you can get the most out of being pain free?  That is why I count down to my vacations and school breaks.  Those are the times that I'm not lonely.

The conversation that I recently had also had to do with their breakdown.  To a large extent, all I can focus on is how it made me feel.  It's not right.  This person didn't purposely do anything to cause me pain but it happened.  And I can't seem to get passed it.  They were coming to visit me--which, I might have mentioned, nobody does--and this visit was going to make that time of not being lonely last that much longer because I was just returning from a visit with family.  Their breakdown prevented this from happening and I spiraled.  I had built the happiness of the visit up so high in my mind that I was devastated when it didn't happen.  I blamed them.  I was angry beyond measure.  And they were in the midst of their own mental health crisis.  What kind of monster does that make me?  Well, none, really, but I still feel immense guilt.  I'm still angry that they didn't visit and I still can't get passed it.  I'm trying though.

Many people thrive on living on their own.  I do very well at it BUT I still need people in my life.  They're not the potatoes of my french fries but they ARE a multitude of condiments and don't condiments, of all kinds, make french fries better?  Visits from friends are the condiments of life.

I've lived by myself for 19 years.  I don't enjoy it.  I enjoy having my own space, yes, but to not have had visitors for the majority of those 19 years is miserable.  I'm working to change this but I can't make anyone visit me.  And, frankly, it gets exhausting to have to be the one to travel 1000 miles to visit friends and family.

Along the lines of loneliness, is the underlying thoughts of suicide.  I first considered it in 2010.  Valentine's Day, by no coincidence.  Once again, I had to leave the house to be around people.  And that contributed to me not going through with it.  I will tell you, though, not a day goes by...correction...not a NIGHT goes by that I don't consider it.  I don't do it though.  My practical side speaks up before anything happens.  

"You won't be found for DAYS"

"The cats'll eat you by day three"

"Who's gonna have to fly out to take care of everything?"

"This will just bother other people who don't have time to clean up after you"

...are just a few things that go through my mind.  Completely logical shit.  My aunt died and wasn't found for a week.  I really don't want to be the actual cause of that kind of situation in my life...well, in someone else's life anyway.  I'd be dead.

So, that's where I am in my life.  And those are two main things that have me pursuing therapy.  I feel like this onion needs to be peeled back.  I just hope the layers under the surface aren't rotten.

Wednesdays at Forty-Something: I Struggle

I think people outside my life might see a life of little complication.  And, to some extent, they'd be correct.  I don't have to worry about a spouse pissing me off for doing or thinking differently than me.  I don't have children that drive me up the wall with their crazy antics.  My cats are pretty easy going and are happy so long as they're fed and can lay next to me any time that I sit down.

But I struggle.  I struggle to balance the priorities in my life with maintaining the relationships that I do have.  I struggle to find friends who can deal with me in the ways that I've come to be.  Because of the things mentioned above, compromising is not something that I've had to do, really, ever in my adult life.  Everything has been done my way and, if not, well, I finagle it so that it will be done my way.  Or I don't do it.  Because, really, I am the center of my universe.  Why do anything that won't benefit me or that I don't want to do.

I'm not infallible though.  I do shit wrong all the time.  Especially communication.  With many, many years experience, I've learned how to phrase a question so that there is only one answer.  Honestly, this stems from the the annoyance that comes from asking someone a yes/no question and getting a freaking dissertation.  I don't need an explanation.  I just want the yes or no.  Unfortunately, I now use this technique often when I ask a question.

And, because I employed this technique numerous times, in order to get the answers that I wanted to hear, rather than what they were actually saying, I was called "a spoiled brat" and "petulant".  Unfortunately, not totally incorrect.  I've already said that things have to go my way and that I get pissy when they don't.  You know what, though, that's not all I am.  That's one part of me.  It's one part of me that tends to rear its head in the wee hours when I'm feeling like shit and missing people whom I love and wishing I was with them.

You can't control whom you love but you can control whom you allow to make you feel like shit when they get pissed off about something you said or did.  You teach people how to treat you and I've allowed this person to let me feel like shit because they get wounded with how we communicate when we're each feeling low.  I'm not dismissing the idea that I need to work on how I say things.  However, I won't be made to feel like shit by anyone, even someone whom I love.

Wednesdays at Forty-Something: Off to a Good Start

Things definitely got better from the latter part of October 2017 to the present.  Those six weeks at the end of Summer were a challenge that took some time to get beyond.  Despite all the hurdles that came up during that time, I was able to maintain my grades to such a level that I made Dean's List for the Fall 2017 term.  I'm quite proud of that, especially considering that I missed numerous days throughout the 14 week term.

This term, I anticipate doing even better.  My focus was split in too many directions during the last one and, after spending a wonderful weekend with my fella in his part of the country, I was able to come back refocused; or, more specifically, just focused.  After reading an article that came across my facebook feed about digging deeper into the things that you already have on hand or have already started to learn--Go Deeper, Not Wider--I decided to stop trying new things.  I've started many new things in the 18 months since I retired but I haven't gotten good at any of them.  I've bought so many books with the intention of reading them yet I have numerous untouched books on the shelves already.

I'm going to read those books.  I'm going to dig into the things that I've already started yet am nowhere near having mastered.  I'm going to focus on what is already IN my life rather than dragging more into it, in hopes that those things somehow change it and make it better than what it already is.

I'm going to, not necessarily be more present, but work even more to not "Click" my way through the moments that are currently happening.  If you've seen the Adam Sandler movie you'll know what I'm talking about.  I don't want to rush through the unpleasant things just because they're unpleasant.  I will dig into them to discover WHY they're unpleasant or WHAT the lesson is to be taken away from the situation.  I did that with the situation with Dominique.  Why did I go through that?  What really prompted me to make that choice?  The conclusion was an interesting one that I won't soon forget.

So, on the days that I'm able, I make a list of the things that I want to accomplish that day and each evening, I check off what is done.  It gives me a sense of accomplishment AND helps me to keep the focus on the things that really matter and on the things that will bring value to my life as well as keep me continuing down that path that brings me the most joy and contentment in my life.

It's through finding our own joy that we're able to share that with others because we attract what we think.  I want only positive vibes in my universe.

Wednesdays at Forty-Something: Six Weeks of Wretched

Earlier in the summer, I posted an ad to Craigslist, looking to rent out my spare room.  I know, I know!  I've had no trouble/issues in the past, though, and didn't anticipate any this time either.  Two people responded.  One said they had found a place, when I responded to their query.  The other, I made arrangements to have them come take a look.

During this first encounter, I didn't pick up any negative vibe.  I explained the things that I expected as a part of them living in my house.  Things like: don't smoke in the house (I don't smoke, he said), don't leave the toilet lid up 'cause my cats will get in the toilet, etc.  Nothing was crazy or unreasonable.  He shared that he needed to find a place as soon as possible 'cause he was living with his mom and it was driving him crazy.  I can understand that.  I love my parents but I wouldn't want to live with them again.  I let him know that he could move in after Labor Day.  He was fine with that when he left my house that day.

A few hours later, he texted me, saying that his mom was wanting him to move sooner and could he move in before then.  I relented (my first mistake) and he moved in the last weekend of August.  I was gone for Labor Day weekend, that very next weekend, leaving him to take care of my cats.  They were fine when I got back so I told him that whatever compensation he gave me could be reduced by what I would have paid for someone to take care of them.  He was very happy for that.  He said he needed to pay his phone bill and this would really help.  In hindsight, I have to wonder why his phone bill was an issue considering that his expenses were quite small.  He has no car and, so, no car expenses.  He made $10/hr and worked approximately 30 hrs/wk.  With what he gave me in exchange for him staying in the spare room, he would still have plenty left over because I had agreed to accept a portion from each paycheck rather than one lump sum.

Anyhow, during the first few days of his stay, he presumed to borrow my brand new Amazon Echo and relocate it to his room.  I discovered this when I came home on the day that this happened.  I texted him and gave him shit for borrowing my stuff.  He apologized and said he'd put it back; which he did.  The next day, though, the same thing.  I gave him shit again.  In conversation, he explained that he thought that since we had talked about it, that that meant he could use it again.  I told him "Never assume, especially with me."

He borrowed the Alexa (this is the wake word for it and so it's what the device came to be know as) with permission numerous times after that.  It's really embarrassing when you realize, after all is said and done, that the early behavior was just grooming you for shit down the road.

As time went by, there was other stuff.  He'd use my toothpaste or shower gel and then deny it when I called him on it.  He'd use the Alexa and then "forget" to disconnect it from his phone.  I quickly learned how to do that.  He'd have guests over and they'd be listening to loud music late at night when I had class the next day.  He'd ask me for a ride to work when, during the first time we met, he said it was because my house was so close to work that he could walk.

After about three weeks here, I really started to notice just how many DIFFERENT people were coming over to visit him.  This wasn't like my friends who have a lot of different friends who come over, to their house, and shoot the shit for a few hours and talk about SCA stuff.  This was different men who would come over, stay for a few hours, bed-squeaking would ensue, and then they'd leave.  I brought up to him that I was uncomfortable with the number of different folks coming over.  He tried to minimize my concerns by saying "Oh, so now I can't have hookups?"  "Dude, I could give two shits if you have hookups.  It's the sheer number of DIFFERENT people that are coming to my house, possibly casing my shit, that has me uncomfortable."

Mind you, it was within the first two weeks of him living here, that he disclosed to me that he was HIV positive.  I immediately asked him if he told his partners.  He said "No, they're just hookups."  I was flabbergasted.  He told me, someone who has no intimate contact with him, but he won't tell his partners?  That's just crazy.  Now, I can imagine just how scary that must be but DAMN! Is a nut really that much more important than telling folks what's the what?  On more than one occasion, after that, I'd bring to his attention the concept of "informed consent".  That fell on deaf ears.

One text exchange (all spelling, grammar, and punctuation is straight from the conversation):

Him: "Don't discredit me because we live two different lifestyles.  Because I don't do you like that one but when I can I can"
Me: "I don't discredit you for your lifestyle. I lost respect for you when you told me that you don't tell ANY of your partners about being positive because they're "just hookups." They're people who deserve the right to make an INFORMED decision about who they fuck and your are disrespecting their humanity by deliberately NOT telling them.  And you've further lost respect because you go to work not sober. Tough shit if you don't like what I'm saying. It's how it is.  If you don't want that judgement, you have choices that you can make."
Him: "U don't kow what I do"
Me: "You TOLD me that you don't tell them and you just TOLD me that you've gone to work tipsy for the last month."
Him: "Sometimes they sometimes they don't I'm not telling a person that I just met that gave someone if we just hooking up and it's safe"
Me: "Again...removing, from them, the opportunity to make an INFORMED decision about consent.  What part of INFORMED do you not understand?"

At that point, he'd been here just over four weeks.  And, in that time, he'd had a different guest over every other day, on average; and sometimes more than one in the same day.  Now, don't get me wrong.  I can give two shits about how often a person has sex or how many different people that it's with but that mindset is all kinds of different when it's MY home: and MY belongings, MY cats, and MY house are at risk of getting injured or stolen because of someone else's behavior.  And, seriously, I don't need to justify my feelings 'cause it's MY shit.

During all this, I was also dealing with him not putting the toilet lid down, not closing the bathroom closet door, him not closing the kitchen cabinets, him not closing the windows when the air was on.

Let's also throw in the fact that, he just happened to find a gutted, dead squirrel wrapped in twine, hanging from the front doorknob when he got home from work.  And then, a few days later, he found a dead scorpion, wrapped in twine, hanging from the front doorknob when he got home from work.  And then some sort of Death card a day or so after that.  He was the one who found the critters but I was the one who threw them away.  He said he thought I had put them there, trying to get him to leave.  "Dude, if I wanted you to leave, I'd let you know," I said.  I did end up filing a police report about them, just to have something on record in case anything else happened.

Two weeks ago, on Sept 27th, I'd had enough.  By this time, he'd also broken my internet modem--thank goodness I had an extra--and used copious amounts laundry detergent and toilet paper.  Now, you might be thinking "Why is that a problem?"  Who uses a WHOLE roll of toilet paper in ONE day???  He'd also thrown up in the bathroom sink at some point and plugged it up; as well as left his colon cleanse tool in the shower.  I couldn't deal with this any longer.

I sat him down and had a conversation.  I can't recall all that was said clearly enough to retell it but, suffice to say, I let him know that he needed to move out.  He tried to convince me to let him stay but I wasn't having it.  Needless to say, things didn't get better.  A week ago, on the 2nd, I discovered that he'd smoked in his room.  He wasn't at the house at the time and so the door happened to be open rather than in the closed state that it is when he's in the room.  Because the door was open, the smell was able to waft out.  This wasn't the first time.  I was pissed.  I cleared the room of everything of mine that he'd been using: blankets, sheets, pillows, a candle (did I mention that he'd left one burning on more than one occasion when he wasn't at the house?).  I even removed the modem--only one phone jack is wired for my DSL and it's in the spare room.  At 3am, that night, I wake to someone pounding on the front door.  It's him.  Apparently, he lost his house key.  I was having a WTF moment.  I damn near fall over when he then says "That's okay.  I'll have my mom bring over the spare tomorrow."  "What spare???" I ask.  "Oh, I made a spare the first week I was here."  When I give him a look, he says "It's my mom" like that's going to make it better.

We were barely cordial in the morning.

A day or so after that, I received the Sewer & Water bill.  I about had a heart attack.

This is my normal QUARTERLY usage:

This was the bill for the most recent quarter, in which he'd been here since Aug 26th:

Subtract my average usage and, in ONE month, he'd used three times the amount that I use in NINE months and tripled my bill.

This person couldn't leave soon enough.  I can't imagine how much it would cost if he lived here any longer.

This past Monday--just two days ago--was the beginning of the end.  Since Friday, he hadn't gone to work.  I don't know if they cut his hours or just cut him but he was at the house all weekend, with various guests throughout.  Hell, on one day, I think he even prostituted himself for a ride to the grocery store because a man showed up, they left for a bit (I was hoping he was going to look for a place to move), but came back just a few minutes later.  His guest was here for about twenty minutes, with unmistakable bed-creaking, and then he left.  Anyhow, Monday morning I left for work at 10:30am.  The air conditioner hadn't been on all weekend and the temp inside showed 80*.

At 8pm, I returned home and saw that all the downstairs windows were closed--they'd been open all weekend--and that the windows in his room were partially open.  I parked the Jeep and proceeded in the front door.  Once inside, I caught a whif of something unmistakable.  The asshole was smoking in my house again.  I headed up the stairs and, at the landing, I saw the temp read 72*.  Holy shit!!  When I clicked the controller to "On" to see what it was set at, it showed 69*.  Are you freaking kidding me?

He poked his head out of the room, while also on the phone with the pizza place.  "What's that smell?" I asked.  "Oh, it's weed but we weren't smoking inside.  It's just 'loud', if you know what that means," he responded.  He's obviously high and drunk, as evidenced by his heavily lidded eyes.  Then he popped his head back in the room and closed the door.  I took care of some things and then knocked on the bedroom door.  "Hold on, I have to get dressed!"  Dude, you were just talking to me.  How undressed did you get in the space of five minutes?  Mind you, this is totally rhetorical.  I'm well aware of the fact that they were actually making the air clear so that he could open the damn door.  He comes out, closes the door, and gives me attitude.  Now, before he had opened the door, while he was still in the room, I could hear a part of the conversation between him and his guest, Jamie.  "What does she want?  Why is she doing this?"  "I know she's doing it on purpose."  Which irked me even further.  Anyhow, when he comes out, he suggests we take the conversation downstairs.  Whatever dude.

I lay into him.  What's frustrating to me, is that, in his high and drunk state, he couldn't seem to understand how I could make any sort of connection between his smoking and the windows being open with the air conditioner on.  He tried to tell me that the air was on for only a couple hours.  Dude, I'm not stupid.  It takes more than a couple hours to cool a 200 year old house from 80+* to 72*.  He continued to deny smoking in the house.  Whatever, dude, I know what I know.  He went back upstairs.  Came down when the pizza arrived then headed back upstairs.  A few minutes later, Jamie comes downstairs and heads out the front door with the pizza and his stuff.  Dominique follows soon after, with his backpack on his shoulder.  He paused at the door which caused me to look up from what I was reading.

"Can you do me a favor?" he begins.
I look at him.
"Can you not go in my room?"
"Why?  You afraid I'm gonna find some weed?" I ask.
"No, I just don't want you to go in the room."
"It's my house," I rebutt.
"Yeah, but I have 30 days."
Dude, don't challenge me.  There is no lease.  There is no contract.  I just looked at him.
As soon as he left, I texted a friend:
"If weed isn't lit, would I smell it from the first floor, when I walk in the house, if he has it in the room he's in?" I asked her.  She confirmed what I already believed: You don't smell unlit weed.

I called her and discussed the situation with her.  I called another friend and discussed it with her too.  They each said, pretty much, the same thing about everything.

I changed the deadbolt when I got off the phone.  I then put on gloves and put all his stuff in bags and took it out to the back end of the driveway.  The parking area is behind my house and accessible but I knew that the stuff wouldn't get stolen from back there.  It'd be a different story if I put it on my porch.  Ten trash bags, a tv, and a dresser and its five drawers later, my spare room was empty save for the bed.

At 3am, they returned.  They were pounding on the door with such force that I ended up calling the police.  I wasn't going to deal with them.  I was not going to deal with two drunk/high men at 3am.  No, I was not.  The police came shortly thereafter--thank goodness for living in a small town.  The officer was here long enough to watch them transfer the tv from the collection of stuff to the car and then leave.  Then he knocked on the door.  He explained that when they came back to get the stuff, they had been told to ensure they had a police escort with them.  There was more conversation but that was the important part.

Yesterday, they came to get the rest of the stuff.  He knocked on the door but, again, I wasn't having the conversation.  I ignored the knock.  There was no police escort.  I called the cops and explained the situation.  They sent an officer.  He was here a few minutes later and stayed until they left.  They took everything except some trash that they purposely left, scattered, on the driveway and the dresser and its drawers.

This morning, it rained.  Who knows if they'll come back to get the dresser.

In the meantime, I'm trying to get back to myself.  It's funny how you don't realize how stressful a situation is until it's over.  I feel like I'm recovering from trauma.  Mental trauma.  This person took advantage of me and my generosity in letting him stay here.  He brought upwards of 30 strangers into my home.  He ran up my utilities--oh, I checked the electric website...the usage for Monday was super heavy from noon to 8pm...a "couple hours" my ass!!  He broke things.  He borrowed things and then denied it.  He smoked in my house despite me asking him not to.  He is not a nice or ethical person.  I can't be around that kind of person.

I can only work towards making my home mine again.  The room he was in currently smells like weed and other people.  It doesn't smell like my home.  I washed the linens that were in there.  I've arranged for a house cleaner to come early next week.  And I chant to help learn whatever lesson that this was supposed to teach me.