Honey, where's the money gone?

I bought my house last year and as the anniversary of doing so rolled up, I got a check from the mortgage company for extra escrow money. Well, I kept track of the check for a while, but with the bustle of going to get Kathy and then moving her into the house, the check got lost.

I didn't realize I had lost the check until I examined my bank records and while it showed the disbursement from my escrow it never showed me depositing it into my bank. So I did a hunt for the check and the panic struck. Losing things has always been a personal bête noire. My parents were very, very hard on me about losing stuff and when I lose or misplace stuff, I get in great panic as I hear the voices in my head. Their criticism was very harsh and I duplicate it and amplify it. Or rather, I used to.

As I felt myself lapse into my previous methods, I realized I needed to break the pattern and be both logical and gentle to myself. I realized that the missing money would not make me or break me and that the likelihood was high that if I simply called the lender they'd void the first check and issue a second.

And so I handed it off to my Higher Power and achieved a bit of serenity. Lo and behold, yesterday I got the urge to read a book that I had taken with me on the flight to Kathy's home and there, as a bookmark, was the check in question.

Lesson learned, I will again remind myself to leave things with my Higher Power.

---

Solomon Burke: "I don't care where the loving went, baby. But honey, where did the money go?"

Here's looking at you, kid.

In honor of the 70th anniversary of the movie Casablanca, the movie was screened in a theater, and it was my first time seeing it projected on a big screen. Because Kathy and I missed having a Valentine's Day date in February due to her moving, we made last night a date night and we had a wonderful time. Much like the first time I ever saw the Wizard of Oz in a movie theater, I will never see this movie quite the same way again.

---

You must remember this.

Nyuck nyuck nyuck

There was a Three Stooges punching doll in the lobby of the theater the other day, which reminded me that Kathy bought me a set of Three Stooges shorts for Christmas, an impressive thing for a woman. She didn't let me punch the doll though.

---

Listen to the Mockingbird on a harpolin.

Where is the love?

Kathy and I saw the movie "The Vow" tonight and it was rather well done but a rather hard movie for me, much to her surprise. If you have not yet seen the movie, I suggest you come back tomorrow and read the next day's blog. Remember, you have been warned.

S

P

O

I

L

E

R



S

P

A

C

E

As we go through the movie it was abundantly clear that while Channing Tatum still loved Rachel McAdams, she, due to her accident, did not love him. And he didn't know how to get her to love him again. It was a tough watch for me, because I have been there twice.

The most recent time was the end of my marriage where it just seemed that Portia could not remember why she married me. The pain had seemingly erased her memory of the good parts of who I was. And I was as mystified as to what to do about it as Tatum was in the movie.

But the other time was the very first time, when Wilma dropped me. I didn't know where the love went or why the love went. It hurt. It still hurts a little thinking about it.

I don't know why love fades, but I am aware now that it does. It doesn't mean I have to like it though.

---

Roberta Flack and Donny Hathaway

Good Bye, Mrs. Durkin. I'm sick and tired of working.

Kathy was kind enough to make a traditional Irish meal for me Saturday consisting of corned beef, cabbage, potatoes, and soda bread. It was quite tasty.

---

The Wolfe Tones

Happy St. Patrick's Day

Top of the morning to you. As I spend St. Patrick's Day with the very Irish Kathy, I thought I'd be the first to play for you the song you will hear all day long unless you know some traditional Irish tunes and places.

---

Dexy's Midnight Runners

It's a sad, sad situation

Well, I may have possibly ruined my relationship with Kathy. I hope not, but I can never tell about these things. And how I did it is that I got divorced.

As I mentioned previously, my agreement to divorce my ex-wife came unraveled. So I retained a lawyer. A strategy that was considered and ultimately decided upon was to use the rules and laws of the state to get divorced without the ex's cooperation.

Successful execution of this strategy required that the ex not know this was what we were going to do. However, Kathy and Portia had actually started to talk frequently. I didn't want to run the risk of Portia getting wind of the strategy. So I didn't tell her.

I wanted to tell her. I really did. But I wanted to be divorced from Portia even more and I wasn't sure that was going to happen if she (Portia) had gotten a whiff of the maneuver.

So it happened. And tonight I told her. And I didn't tell her the way that I wanted to. I told her while being aggravated because Portia was again telling mis-truths to people about me (not Kathy in this instance).

Kathy was hurt. We talked about it. I explained things. She says we are okay. I want to believe her, but my ACoA issues get in the way of that. I have told her I am sorry and hopefully that is enough. But sorry seems to be the hardest word.

---

Elton John

Bloody well right

Wednesday was Pi day (3.14). Thursday was the Ides of March. Saturday will be St. Patrick's Day.
Seems like today should be something. Freedom of Information Day and James Madison's Birthday just don't cut it.

Everything You Do Is Right Day is today. I'll go with that.

---

A band called the Logical Group covering Supertramp.

Look at what's happened to me. I can't believe it myself.

Well, a week ago tomorrow Kathy moved in with me, at least temporarily. And it's been a pretty great week. Yes, the drive was a challenge and yes, the packing and unpacking was physically hard on me and yes, my right leg is still not fully recovered from the ordeal, but...

Living with cats has been almost pleasant. I didn't realize how much I missed having a pet in the house. Cats aren't dogs, but they're all right, even if I have to scoop the litter.

And living with Kathy has been awesome. I know that it's only temporary and I didn't get the house to where she would have it, but she seems to be happy (for the most part) and I like having someone else in the house who might care if I live or die.

I never thought I would find someone who fit with me so well. I never thought I could make someone happy. I never knew I could be well enough to attract someone like her. But I have. Believe it or not.

---

I'm walking on air.

Today is the ides of March

So are these guys.

Goober says "Hey."

Part of the long journey from her home to mine took us through North Carolina and that took us near Mount Airy, NC, which is better known by it's fictional name Mayberry, as in the home of the Andy Griffith Show.

The cats seemed to need a restroom break and so we used Kathy's GPS to try to find a pet store near us to get some litter for the small litter box we brought with us for the trip. And that had us drive through Mount Airy and into one of the strangest episodes ever.

We drove apparently from one side of Mount Airy to the other, finally arriving at the Flat Rock Pet Center. We'd just buy some litter and be on our way. Right? Wrong. I walk in and there is no one in the Flat Rock Pet Center. Eventually someone comes in from the outside only to inform me that he carries no dog and cat stuff and that the best he could sell us was gerbil pellets. We declined. He then proceeded to tell us how to get to another pet store, one that sold litter. Only he told directions the way that many folks do. I learned of a lot of places along the way, as well as how long they were in business and whether they were going to stay that way, but not a lot of streets and where to turn.

At any rate, I got the name of the place and we set out starting with the beginning of his directions. We asked the GPS and got a name that was similar. So we drive out to it and it is in the middle of nowhere. And it's a house. Just a regular old house. No sign out front. Nothing.

Not wanting to chance that strangers were not welcome, I get back in the car and I make an executive decision to just go to Walmart. I had been to Mount Airy once before and I knew they had a Walmart. So the GPS pulls up Walmart and tries to advise us on how to get there. At one point it has us turn on a street I will call Orchid Street. Only Orchid Street has all the appearances of a shared driveway. We travel through a few backyards, Kathy and I incredulous at the sight. And then we get to a sign stating what we already knew, that Orchid Street was a private drive and please get off of it.

So I turned around and left and forced the GPS to calculate a new route. Eventually we got on Andy Griffith Highway and to Walmart. As we were trying to park, the people of Mayberry showed they lost some of their fabled friendliness over the years, at least when it came to parking spaces. But eventually we got some litter, too late for the one poor cat who was peed on by one of the others. Soon (like two hours later from when we first got the idea), we were back on our way.

I eventually found the other pet store the Flat Rock Pet Center tried to send me to on a map. But I still believe you can't get there from here.

---

The theme you cannot get out of your head.

You rang?

Where have I been? I've been acclimating myself to living with one woman and three cats. And I have been on the disabled list with a bum leg. I have had a lot going on and have neglected this in the process.

But life is starting to lurch toward something that can be called normal. So updates will return.

---

You rang?

Tonight's the night she's moving in and I can hardly wait!

If everything has gone according to plan, tonight is Kathy's first night in official residence in my house. Our house I guess it is now. And I'm a happy man.

---

Tonight's the night she's moving in! It's time to celebrate!

Nowhere, man.

We're neither where Kathy used to live nor are we where she's going to live. So we're really nowhere, man.

---

Sitting in a nowhere land.

Moving out

Today I am helping Kathy pack things up for the trip. Moving is always a hard thing for me, even when it is someone else moving. But we'll get through it.

---

You ought to know by now...

Up! Up and away!

The punctuation is the way that Bud Collyer used to say it as Superman. But at any rate, by the time you read this I should be aboard an airplane headed to Kathy for the long drive back.

---

The Fifth Dimension (the singing group, not where Mr. Mxyzptlk is from).

Do It Again

What am I doing again? Living with a woman. Makes me happy.

---

The Beach Boys, fifty years later, also doing it again.

Finishing touches

Fly Lady Update:

Last one, as Kathy is coming this week.

After recovering from lack of sleep and a headache on Saturday, I looked at the house and even though I know I did a whole lot of stuff, it wasn't looking like it. So I did what I called finishing work, clearing the last few things off, putting things away, acquiring a couple of litter boxes for the cats.

Even though it was finishing work, it was a lot and I had to push to do it. And the voices came back into my head. I touched many of the demons that go with cleaning. It was very hard. At one point I made myself take a break because otherwise it was going to break down.

The house looks better and I think she'll be okay here for the time that she will be staying. But it's been a bit of an ordeal. There are a lot of things still working underneath the surface and dealing with them will be a work in progress.

But Kathy's coming, so it's worth it.

---

Not really related, but here is someone called WS64 playing the Beatles on a ukulele

Short, sweet, and to the point

Someone at the ACA forum I go to said something very profound, which I will share:

Expectations are premeditated resentments.

Fly Lady Update:

I got battered around by a computer I was repairing and didn't get to do anything Saturday, but I made up for it Sunday. Boy, did I make up for it.

---

Sweet and innocent.

And now here's something we hope you'll really like.

Today I decided to visit a psychology forum I recently signed up for in addition to the ACA forum that I regularly frequent. At the forum there was an entire section on divorce and separation. I saw a thread there titled "Still Angry at My Spouse" (paraphrased) and decided to read it, since I believe my current problems with my Not-Yet-Ex-Wife are because she is still very, very angry with me.

In it the woman complained about her husband. A lot. He looked at pictures of naked women and this angered her. They went to counseling and in her description turned things around where it was her problem. She's annoyed now that he's talking a lot to a woman he works with and not to her.

The very first responder to this thread suggested to her that instead of vesting her energy in getting him to change that she look at herself, not that she was the cause of the issue but that she was the cause of her unhappiness.

She pretty much ignored this person and listed more things her husband was doing wrong. She eventually got what she sought, which was validation that her husband had the problem and they were scheming ways on how to fix him.

Well, from my ACA perspective, her husband didn't have a problem at all. He liked looking at pictures of naked women and he liked talking to this other woman more than he liked talking to his wife. Should he? That's a moral question.

In my thinking the wife was the one with the problem, in that the husband was not behaving as she wished he would. The problem was that she was wishing for something that she had no means to create or leverage to help make it come about. She couldn't stop him from these things and because she was so hateful, he really didn't want to not do these other things.

I don't know what happens in a person's mind where they figure being angry, mean, and hurtful to someone will dispose that someone toward doing what they want them to do, but it seems to happen a lot. Rather than being nice to me to get what she wants, my NYEW seems to think that being mean to me is a way to make it happen. But, as Rocky said to Bullwinkle "That trick never works."

Fly Lady Update:

Packing up my dead dog's stuff today.

---

Nothing up my sleeve. Presto! (Note that for some reason I cannot find the one where Rocky actually says "That trick never works.")

We're too busy singing to put anybody down.

Yesterday, Davy Jones of the Monkees died at age 66. Celebrity deaths sadden me not because I imagine myself in some sort of relationship with the late celebrity but because it reminds me of my own mortality and it in a way steals another piece of my past.

I watched the Monkees on television as a kid and I enjoyed their music. They were not my favorite, but their music was enjoyable, and given the songwriters and musicians employed by the producers, this was to be expected.

Since Mickey Dolenz sang lead on the early songs, I considered Davy (who played no instrument, unlike Peter Tork or Michael Neismith) to be merely eye candy for the girls who watched the show. (And judging by Facebook yesterday, he played that part well).

But Davy's popularity with the women ended up increasing his position on the music and so, toward the end, he got a number of leads. He wasn't anything particularly special (unlike Dolenz's weird voice), but he was good. It's also very funny to me that while I prefer Dolenz's leads overall, Davy sang lead on my single favorite Monkees song.

At any rate, time is once again reminding me how briefly we get to grace this stage. So make the most of it.

Fly Lady Update:

This was written early, so I don't know what I am going to do tonight. But I'm going to do something. I don't have much choice; Kathy is on her way.

---

She sure looks different than the way she looked before.

To "Sir", with love.

Today on my way into work, I shared the elevator with two thirty-somethings and as they departed on different floors, they both told me to "Have a good day, sir." I know I am no spring chicken. I stopped getting carded a long time ago. But I apparently have reached the age where it is just expected that I be treated with respect.

I mean, as far as the organization I work for goes, my elevator mates are peers. I am not management. But by virtue of either my age, demeanor, or both, I am not coming across that way. It's good as far as it goes, but I sort of always want to be respected for who I am as a person and what I do, my efficacy and knowledge, not my trips around the sun.

That said, I do have to say that being respected does feel kind of nice, especially because in my intimate relationships pre-Kathy there wasn't a lot of respect happening.

Fly Lady Update:

Loaded up the spice rack I got today and sorted through some clutter in my computer room. Things are getting done...eventually.

---

Lulu.

Pressure

But you will come to a place
Where the only thing you feel
Are loaded guns in your face
And you'll have to deal with
Pressure.

— Billy Joel

Portia has been steadily making things harder and harder for me as we try to get this divorce thing behind us. Without going into specifics, just when it seems she couldn't do anything more to make things more difficult than they already are, she finds a way to make things more difficult.

The funny thing is, I am handling this a lot better than I would have previously. Make no mistake; I am not dancing around like Gene Kelly in the rain over the proceedings. But I know that just a few months ago I would have been losing my mind over this.

One of the things that ACA teaches you is to let go and let God. And sometimes that's easier than others. But if you get yourself in the habit of doing that on the smaller stuff then you can begin to do that with the larger stuff. My relative serenity is scary to me at times. But it's welcome nonetheless.

And besides, from watching The Adventures of Superman I know that if you can endure enough pressure you turn into diamond. I don't think that show was scientifically approved, though.

Fly Lady Update:

I got my spice rack organizer today and my packet organizer for the kitchen. Circumstances conspired to keep me from loading them tonight, but I am excited. I am sure the spice rack won't hold all my spices, but it's a start.

---

The above-mentioned Mr. Joel.

What I feel like.

Fly Lady Update:

One of the things that makes cleaning hard for me is that it's something that I cannot force myself to do and power through like work. I have to feel like it. So if I am sick or tired, I usually don't feel like it. This is one of the many reasons that working overtime for me is a mixed blessing at best.

I wish I knew what allows me to get into the mood for doing this stuff, because when I try to force myself to do it when I don't feel like it, that's when accidents happen. So with a near crushing injury and a near electrocution, just imagine what my weekend would have turned out like if I wasn't in the mood for doing what I did.

---

Roberta Flack.

You won't see me.

Fly Lady Update:

I was cleaning the floors in the kitchen Sunday when I suddenly realized that my refrigerator door was dirty. I am sure this sounds strange to you, that it had to dawn on my that my refrigerator door was dirty and needed cleaning. But in order to not drive myself crazy seeing everything I have to do or would want to do and overwhelming myself, I stop seeing things. Then, as I can handle them, they "reappear".

I'm getting better one step at a time.

---

Anne Murray

Knock on wood.

Fly Lady Update:

Well, I nearly accidentally killed myself this weekend. Friday, I didn't get anything done except see Tina (as Portia relented enough to allow her to attend something we had previously planned). But Saturday and Sunday? Oh, Mama.

I mentioned that I bought a five-tier bookcase as part of my organization efforts at my house. However, when you buy it on line, such an item does not come assembled. So I spent the better part of Saturday assembling it.

Even thought it is particle board, it is still heavier than snot. And the instructions say it is a two man job. Yet, I lifted all the pieces and did all the assembly myself, with the help of a computer tower turned sawhorse. I tried a couple of times to drop the thing on myself, but I managed to fail. That was first near miss.

I then installed a motion-activated light switch in the laundry room. I had already done one prior in the hallway and was pretty positive that I knew everything I needed to do it again. However, in my zeal to just hurry up and do it, I neglected one thing I had remembered the first time I did it: turn the power off first.

Fortunately all I felt was a little current. However after that plus laundry, I was done for Saturday. On Sunday I cleaned the kitchen in the afternoon after spending the morning struck down by a headache and then afterward installed a timing switch for my front porch light, again almost forgetting to turn the power off. (What is with me and electricity these days?)

So, yes, Virginia, I didn't blog this weekend. But I did get a lot done without killing myself or shorting out my wiring, knock on wood.

---

Amii Stewart

The Case of the Blatherskite Blogger

THE CASE OF THE BLATHERSKITE BLOGGER

INT. COURTROOM - DAY

Berger: Your witness, Mr. Mason.

Mason: You just heard Mr. Berger point out that you did not produce a blog for Friday, Saturday, or Sunday, did you not?

Me: Yes. I did.

Mason: Furthermore, Mr. Berger suggested that because of that fact, you were in violation of the Laws of Blogging, specifically the one that says "Blog with reliable frequency."

Me: That is correct.

Berger: I object. If your honor wishes to have my examination of this witness repeated, I think the court reporter would be a better choice to do so than Mr. Mason.

Judge: I should think the prosecution would welcome having its points reinforced. Overruled. Continue, Mr. Mason.

Mason: Thank you, your honor. If it please the court, I'd like you to read the passage marked from the Laws of Blogging into the record.

Me: "Be interesting, creative, and real, but never let blogging become more important than real life."

Mason: I should like to present defense exhibit A, a copy of what the witness has been doing this whole weekend.

Berger: No objection.

Mason: If it please the court, take note of the volume and difficulty of the tasks performed by the defendant.

Berger: If the court also please, take note that there were several periods where the defendant rested, periods where he could have and should have blogged.

Mason: Could have? Yes. Should have? [pause] Your honor, by the very passage read by the defendant, given that he needed to rest from his labors, it was more important that he preserve his physical and mental well being than to blog. And with that, we move that all charges against the defendant be dropped.

Judge: I'm inclined to agree. Mr. Berger?

Berger: Your honor, the law clearly states blogging must be of a reliable frequency.

Judge: But when two aspects of law oppose each other, as they do in this case, it is my job to decide which one prevails and I believe Mr. Mason's argument is a sound one. I'm granting Mr. Mason's motion. The defendant is free to blog. Case dismissed.

Me: Thank you. Thank you, Mr. Mason. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go.

Mason: Go? Where?

Me: Home. I have to write my blog.

Music sting, fade to black

---

Mason: If you pick someone to lie to, Mrs. Granger, never choose your doctor or your lawyer. In both cases, it could be fatal.

All my exes

Both Stella and Portia have been in recent contact with Kathy. I think it a little strange that my exes keep talking to her. Perhaps they're trying to turn Kathy against me. Who knows? But Kathy is a different kind of woman than they are and I am different man than what I used to be, thanks to ACA.

But if Wilma or Winnie contact her, I quit.

Fly Lady Update:

I didn't even get to make potato encrusted flounder last night. Big weekend though this weekend. Building the shelves.  Finding a home for all the loose books. Getting rid of ones I don't want. Doing a big clean on the kitchen. Installing a programmable switch to turn the porch light on for me. Very excited. Let's see how I do.

---

♪ All my exes are infectious... ♫

Ash Wednesday

I had to eat with dignitaries from another branch of my company today, so instead of eating at my desk as I usually do, I ate down in the company cafeteria. As we were walking to our table, I noticed a smudge on a woman's forehead and for a brief moment did not realize why it was there.

Today, of course, is Ash Wednesday, which given that I remembered yesterday was Mardi Gras or Fat Tuesday makes my forgetting bewildering, as I was trying to decide yesterday if I was going to sacrifice something for Lent.

I don't keep Lent every year, or even most years. But I have. And it has been interesting experiences when I have. The first time I kept Lent, I gave up red meat. I ate a lot of chicken and fish. I made it through with some strain. But trust me, I was ready for Easter dinner when it came. That Easter dinner was the last time I dined out anywhere with my mother, especially since some of the buffet made its way home. My mother tended to operate under the assumption that rules are for other people.

One year I gave up soda for Lent. That was a little harder. Everyone tells you when you give up soda that you'll feel better. Well, maybe they felt better when they gave up soda. I was miserable. And it isn't even caffeine withdrawal as most of my sodas don't contain caffeine, at least by the label.

One year I gave up going to my then favorite comic book related forum. It was for a one-time big name in the comic book field. And I really liked the place. But I found, oddly enough, that I did feel better not going there. Not participating there somehow improved my mood. It was not much longer after Easter that I decided to quit it of my own volition.

This leads me to this year. I was considering giving up cookies for Lent, but with the stress that I am under, I felt that I needed to hang onto my pre-sleep security blanket. So I will not be making a formal Lenten sacrifice this year. But I figure, with the changes Kathy and I will go through merging households, we'll both sacrifice plenty.

Fly Lady Update:

I worked late and so didn't get any decluttering of the house done but I did make potato encrusted flounder with horseradish using some fish in my freezer, as part of my eating out of my freezer this month. And even though I have been eating out of the freezer, I still have plenty in it. *sigh*

---

Here is "A Mighty Fortress Is Our God" otherwise known as the theme to Davey and Goliath.

He has "issues".

It's all purple today.

Fly Lady Update:

My shelf and my CD rack came today. I racked the CDs that I had and for a second I must have felt what neat people feel. It actually sort of made me happy to be able to put them away.

I was trying to explain to Kathy about why making room for her is so hard for me and she guessed correctly that there are issues behind it. One thing that gets in the way is that nearly everything means something to me, so throwing things away is hard.

Also, being the son of a garbage man, I was raised that throwing away things that are still functional was regarded as wasteful. So I am trying to give things away as part of the decluttering.

But I am also learning that I am worth nicer things than hand-me-downs and rigged devices. Evolution isn't easy

---

This song has nothing to do with anything, but I like it and I can't think of anything that goes with today, so here it is. Kyu Sakamoto singing Ue o Muite Arukou (I refuse to call it Sukiyaki).

The birthday boy.

Today is my stepson Rick's birthday. Many happy returns of the day.

Fly Lady Update:

Going to stop at the comic book store for a longbox and then work on the couch and table, which are perennial catch-alls.

---

Greetings from space!

Curses

I don't believe in curses.

Coming from Cleveland, I suppose I should. Cleveland sports history over the last fifty years or so is littered with unmet expectations and heartbreak. Red Right 88, the Drive, the Fumble, the Shot, Game 7 versus the Marlins, the Decision, Willie Mays's catch... You get the idea.

Well, I have experienced enough of life to know that curses are simply the by-product of suggestion plus selective perception of events. To apply this to the Cleveland sports list I just gave you:

The Cardiac Kids (who were fortunate to even be in the playoffs that year) were playing on one of the coldest days ever for a Browns game, John Elway is John Elway, football drives of over eleven plays often end with a turnover, Michael Jordan is Michael Jordan, Jose Mesa had pitched a lot of baseball by game 7, LeBron James is an ego-maniacal jerk, Willie Mays is Willie Mays.

And so, it is with this in mind that I say my laptop is cursed.

I mentioned in a previous blog post that Stella gave me something that she demanded be returned. That something was my laptop. While the laptop has been good to me, shortly after Stella demanded it back, I broke several keys on it. I recently got it repaired, only to spill something on the keyboard yesterday and break it again.

Now mind you I use a laptop every single day for work, as I have for years. I have eaten in front of the work laptop and traveled hither and thither. I have never once harmed a key or spilled anything on it. And yet, in less than a month I have killed the keyboard of my personal laptop twice. Twice.

And so, I have decided that, despite the non-existence of same, this laptop is cursed. I am going to have the keyboard replaced again and then give the laptop to my sister, as I think the curse is not on the machine but on the combination of me and the machine. All of this leads me to one conclusion: in my heart, I'm still from Cleveland.

Fly Lady Update:

I said I would try to make up for days of inactivity on this front and I did. There is a papasan chair in my bedroom that, like most surfaces other than the bed became a collector of stuff. I went through it and mostly cleaned it. I need the bookshelf that I ordered and a longbox from the comic book store to finish it off, but that was a major step forward. But wait! There's more!

As I said, I was trying to make up for not doing any work on any of this, so I also thinned out my dresser. That may not sound like much until I tell you that I am giving away about thirty t-shirts to charity and I still have an almost full dresser. This was an enormous task. And I have also ranked the shirts so that if I get new ones, I know from where to start to look to get rid of old ones. It's been a day.

---

Screamin' Jay Hawkins (also from Cleveland, or at least born there).

I love a rainy night

I was talking to Kathy this morning and I mentioned that it was a gray, drizzly day today after raining last night and she gave me her condolences. However, I told her that it was no problem at all. While I love living where it is warm and the sun shines more often than not, I grew up with overcast skies and plenty of rain. I am not only used to such weather, when it comes to rain, I actually like it.

Storms have always fascinated me. I like the electrical show of lightning. I like the rumble of thunder. I like hearing chimes dance in the wind. Lightning is a personal symbol of mine, raw natural energy. In a way, bad weather makes me feel good. So I guess I do love a rainy night.

Fly Lady Update:

Failed to do anything Saturday, but I have actually done something today (Sunday) and in my next post I'll tell you all about it.

---

Eddie Rabbit

I've got work to do, part 2

I worked late at my job again Friday followed immediately by getting up early to ship said work to a client. So no blog yesterday.

Fly Lady Update:

Nothing got done because of work. Hopefully I can make up for it today and tomorrow.

---

Same song, different group. The Isley Brothers.

I've got work to do.

I spent most of the day at work yesterday. It was probably the day I got more different things at least partly accomplished which, while a source of pride, is indicative of being an adult child of an alcoholic.

We tend to be hyper-responsible. This means we try to meet all commitments and take more commitments than is advisable. I feel pretty crappy today, and that is why. I could really use some rest, but duty calls again.

At one point when the Not Yet Ex Wife actually liked me, she called me Du, which everyone down here thought was after Loretta Lynn but was (at least according to what she told people) because I was dutiful.

Fly Lady Update:

Got my new rack for DVDs in the mail Thursday. I didn't have a chance to load it, but that progress. I also applied for a lost title so that I can sell the little red car. I won't get the new title before Kathy arrives, but I have done all that I could..

---

The Average White Band — Work to Do

Accentuate the positive

Kathy and I came a little close to having a fight yesterday, which given that it was Valentine's Day is very very sad. Between my deal with my not-yet-ex-wife, a business deal, and other machinations at work, I'm having a rough time right now and I am being a little negative. This, in turn, is bringing Kathy down. Meanwhile I took umbrage at being called negative. In reflection, it's because it's true.

I don't think that I am a negative person, but it is fair to say that lately I am, in fact, negative. I could go into justifications for it and explanations of it, but they really don't matter. I just need to take a deep breath, relax, and let it go.

I'm writing this more as an apology to Kathy, because I am sorry.

Fly Lady Update:

Other than cleaning the toilets as part of the daily clean, nothing happened today. I stayed at work too long. But I just found out my safe for my important papers is on the way. So hooray for that.

---

Aretha Franklin showing her inner Ella Fitzgerald

I'd like to get to know you

In clearing out a bunch of old papers, I came across a personality test I was given by one of my employers. I read it through and found that even now, fifteen years or more later, it was spot on.

The first thing I found was that I was both very frank and very consistent. Somehow the test I took was geared to gauge how honestly I answered the questions. The other things it suggested was that I was not particularly receptive to change, that I am a bit anti-social, that I am an introvert, and that I am very, very sensitive.

I was surprised in fact to see how sensitive I am. However, given what I said earlier about taking everything personally, it really shouldn't have surprised me. In the end, I had the same dilemma with the personality test as I have with all metrics of self-awareness: "Okay, I know who I am; now what am I going to do about it?"

Fly Lady Update:

I changed the tack today and instead got rid of a bunch of extra plastic food keepers in the kitchen, paring it down to a usable number. I still don't like throwing perfectly good things away, but I have seen what a difference decluttering makes. Progress.

---

Spanky & Our Gang.

And the shoe drops

A few days ago you may recall that I mentioned my agreement with the not-yet-ex-wife had blown up in my face. After weighing my options, I decided to sue for divorce outright. She was served today and in response, she is keeping Tina, my granddaughter, from coming over. My hope is that she get over this pettiness, but I am prepared to live with the situation if she doesn't. I need to be divorced even more than I need to see my granddaughter.

Fly Lady Update:

I gathered many important papers and cleaned out the filing cabinet of detritus to house them. This also cleaned up part of the dining room as well. Progress.

---

Henry Gross. It's a song about losing a dog rather than a granddaughter, but it is sufficiently maudlin to fit the mood.

Little Band of Gold

Kathy and I were looking at wedding rings the other day. (Yes, we're that far along already). The place that we were looking at offers a service that will take your own old gold and incorporate it into your new jewelry. I thought about using my old wedding band to make my new one, but Kathy was not feeling it. Her reasoning is that my old ring is symbolic of a failed relationship. And I can see where it could be seen that way. But it isn't for me.

To me, that ring is a symbol of two things: my ability to achieve beyond my apparent capacity and the importance of love in my heart. I bought that ring on time payments over a year in a time where money was extremely tight. I sacrificed in order to buy that gold band and the diamond solitaire and wrap that went with it. I kept a promise by buying the ring even as the woman for whom I intended to wear it did not.

Yes, I bought the ring for Wilma and not Portia. Portia ended up resenting wearing "Wilma's" ring. Again I understand it. I don't subscribe to it, but I do understand it. I do wish that Portia had mentioned it before I married her rather than holding it over my head for many years afterward.

At any rate, I don't think about Portia leaving me when I think about the ring and for me I don't think it holds any bad luck. But I do understand Kathy wanting a clean slate, and so it too will be sent on its way.

Fly Lady Update:

Bought CD and DVD racks and a five tier bookshelf and did some cleaning and organizing in the kitchen. I also have been trying to eat out of the freezer this month to reduce the number of items in it. It appears, however, that I have purchased quite a few freezer items. I could probably do this for two months. Wow.

---

Went looking for a version of the song to put here and found that it was recorded once by the Bee Gees.

It was originally by James Gilreath, but the version I know was by Bill Anderson. However I can't find a video of that version. Sonny James's version sounds closest.

Let's Go To Heaven In My Car

Fly Lady Update:

Getting close to fifteen years ago I wrecked my car. My friend Fred loaned me the money to buy a new one with the car as collateral against the loan. I mentioned it in a previous post. The car has been sitting in my driveway for over two years, as it was very old and I had since purchased a different one.

Well, as I mentioned earlier, Kathy is going to move down here and she will need a space in my driveway. So I cleared the car out of any valuable items ahead of selling it. As with any decluttering exercise it was a bit of archeology and heartache.

I found a few things I didn't know where they were. I found the Bible my late friend Jim gave me when he sold me the car. I read that Bible a lot as my marriage was falling apart. I found printed copies of my scripts that I tried to sell (and came this close).

Much as with my late dog, this car has seen me through a very difficult time in my life. Good byes are hard, especially when it's forever. Even if it's just a car.

---

Brian Wilson

Tomorrow

Let's just get this part out of the way first:

Fly Lady Update for Friday:

Zip. Zero. Nothing.

Now why. I had to work late. I worked until midnight. I was not happy about this. But tomorrow (or today) is another day.

---

Everything's going my way

If you've read the blog recently, you will find the title of this post rather strange, but to recap, my not-yet-ex-wife blew up our agreement to divorce and I am having to change many things at my home including throwing many things out to allow Kathy to move into my life.

And yet, it's true. For a while now, it seems that things I initially find as setbacks end up being to my ultimate benefit. When I was trying to purchase my house, I agreed to a price that was higher than I wanted and I would have had to strain to pay. But what happened was that the financing I arranged would not pay a dime above appraisal and the appraisal came in at exactly the price point I had originally wanted. The seller, wanting to be rid of the property, came down to the appraisal.

Speaking of buying the house, I had originally wanted to wait a year before seeing if I could purchase a house, but the landlord wanted to sell and so since I hate moving, I applied to buy the house without any idea if I could. Turns out I could.

I mentioned in this previous post how my mother's death enabled me to have a relationship with my father and how my marriage failing and post-marriage relationship failing led me to ACA.

Well, this week I received some setbacks that I am not at liberty to discuss but I have just found that they too are leading to something better than I had originally planned myself. It's amazing what can happen for you if you just get out of your own way.

Fly Lady Update:

No excuse and no reason. I just didn't get anything done yesterday. I will need to definitely make up for this today and this weekend.

---

From Oklahoma.

Stop, children! What's that sound?

The Van Buren Sound.

No, it's not the band who sang Incense and Peppermints (which, by the way, was the Strawberry Alarm Clock). Nor is it a body of water near Kinderhook, New York, the birthplace of President Martin Van Buren. Nor was it the noise said president made when his finger was pulled. No, the Van Buren sound is an implement of torture disguised as a medical treatment and a part of my life for the last five or six years.

For someone my age I am blessedly relatively free of medical ailments. However at one point about five or six years ago I was having painful waste elimination. So I went to see a urologist. He stuck a scope up my business and determined that I had sustained an injury that was scarring up and narrowing my urethra. So I had an operation that amounted to a Roto-Rootering™ of my urethra.

Problem is, the repaired area would continue to scar until closed again unless something was put in place that would keep the scar tissue flat against the urethral wall. That something is a Van Buren sound. Basically, it's a long metal rod that is inserted in Mr. Happy, keeping the opening stretched open. The frequency of these insertions was every two months, then every three, eventually backing off to my current once a year. And today was my lucky day. Plus as an extra special bonus, I got a prostate exam. Yay, me.

Needless to say, this is not exactly my happy place.

Set of Van Buren sounds at Amazon.com

Fly Lady Update:

Nothing. I take the evening off after this procedure. Do you blame me?

---

Buffalo Springfield with the title song.

Special bonus song, Incense and Peppermints.

I made it through the rain

I was watching a televangelist the other day. He was talking about how if you're on your way to what God intends for you than even the bad things and setbacks are to ultimately work in your favor. He sighted his own example of his father's illness and eventual death resulting in him having to take over said ministry and become the successful preacher that he is.

It seems to hold in my life as well. I am a black man (I'm too old to be African American) and I have long held that my ancestors getting kidnapped and enslaved was for the family bloodline probably the best thing that could have happened. Life in Africa was and continues to be hard. My life today would be far different had I been born in Africa.

My father and I have a relationship now, but I would not have gotten to know my father as a person had not my mother died. I adored my mother and visits home were spent primarily with her. Moreover my mother had a tendency to overwhelm a room. My father said little, not because he had nothing to say, but because there was little room to say it. This is not at all to say that I am happy my mother is dead. It's just to note that had my father died first, I might never have gotten to know him as I now do.

My marriage falling apart was the impetus to get into therapy, which eventually found me in ACoA and finally making progress on things I never before understood about myself. I have a friend who is an adult child of an alcoholic whose life hasn't fallen apart and because of that does not want to hear about how paternal alcoholism has made life worse. This person will not even entertain ACA because he or she has not received the gift of an unmanageable life. And for me that's what it was, a gift.

Fly Lady Update:

I put the dishes away and cleaned the kitchen a little on Tuesday. I had to work later than I had planned and didn't have the time I wanted to devote to the housecleaning. But I at least made a little time. Just need to keep getting back on that horse.

---

Barry Manilow

Super Bowl, man

Yesterday was the Super Bowl. Some team beat some other team. Madonna danced around.  And a few new commercials came out.

You might not be able to tell, but I actually follow NFL football.  But if my team, the Cleveland Browns, aren't playing, I don't care.

I'm close to fifty years of not caring now. *sigh*

Fly Lady Update:

Donated the clothes today, but Monday is kind of busy, so that's about it.

---

Look! Up in the sky! It's a bird! It's a plane...

Throw It All Away

Today is all Fly Lady, so...

Fly Lady Update:

I cleaned out the closet in my computer room today and I moved my clothes in there so that Kathy can put her clothes in the master bedroom closet. When I moved into this house years ago, clothes that I didn't wear with frequency were put in the computer room. A lot of the clothes were from my life back north.

I tossed a lot of flannel shirts, which have little use down here. I tossed some dress shirts that I don't like the look of. I tossed some shirts and pants which, alas, I don't fit anymore. And it took me on a walk down memory lane.

I remembered my life back in radio with Wilma and in Internet service with Winnie and how different my life was then. It was quite emotional and quite difficult going through everything. I several times found myself wanting to save a few things because of the memories. But I will always have the memories even without the triggers.

But the strangest thing I noticed was that I kept a lot of things that I had no idea why I did. So I gathered them all and tossed them. I'm not at the point where I feel better when I do this, but at least I don't feel violated anymore.

---

Zero 7

He's been working and slaving his life away.

I am writing this at work. Yeah, it's Saturday. And yeah, I am at work. In the evening. The situation called for it, so here I am. Of course, I get this from my father. Besides being an alcoholic he was a workaholic. In a little bit of irony, I was talking on the phone to him on the way in. I told him I was coming in to work some overtime and he remarked that he worked overtime any chance he got. No fooling, Sherlock.

I am not mad at my father about it. He had four kids to feed and kids as you may know cost money. So he worked any overtime the city approved, he worked a second job when we were kids, and he salvaged copper, aluminum, car batteries, newspaper, and anything else the recycler would take. And if I had that kind of responsibility, I'd do it to.

But my stepson is an adult and I can do for my granddaughter without working myself to death. And the thing I have learned as I have gone through a year this past year where I worked Herculean overtime is that money doesn't matter so much if you're too tired to shop and too sick to use it for anything other than doctor's bills.

So I have made a pact with myself to keep the overtime I work to the absolute minimum this year, because life is worth more than money.

Fly Lady Update:

Well, I did some work in the living room and the kitchen, but beyond that I made myself a special affirmation MP3 designed to penetrate deep to my subconscious. So far, judging by today, it works pretty well. But we'll see as the month wears on.

---

A bunch of Animals. (True fact: I sung this on stage in college, ripping my shirt off at the end of the performance.)

Computer world

Little things can change our lives a lot. A year ago I didn't even have a laptop computer and now, just 365 later, I have adjusted so much to having one that I am feeling a little lost without it. But it's nice getting to know my desktop again.

I am actually quite proud of this computer. I built it myself. I bought all the parts for it from Tiger Direct as part of something called a bare-bones kit. You get no operating system and nothing is assembled except the power supply in the case. But other than installing a CPU cooling fan, I had done previously everything else one has to do to build a computer from scratch, including installing a motherboard and CPU. So this was merely putting everything together.

It's nice and peppy compared to my work computer. I remember the days when people's work computers were faster, newer, and more tricked out than their work computers. Now at work I find myself wishing I was using my home computer. But, as a friend points out, in this economy I should consider myself lucky I have a job.

At any rate, the reason I bring up missing the laptop was that it sat next to me in the living room, which made my posting a blog post as simple as thinking about it then doing it. Now I have to get up and go to the room where the computer resides. I know, such an agonizing ordeal. But it is contributory as to why I haven't been Johnny on the spot in terms of posting entries. Fortunately, it shouldn't be too much longer I am without my laptop. Yay.

Fly Lady Update:

Really didn't do anything yesterday but will make up for it today with work on the kitchen, the living room and maybe even consolidating the closets.

---

Interpol and Deutsche Bank, FBI and Scotland Yard.

Trust

I just sent the laptop off to be repaired and as usual my lovely ACoA tendencies showed up in full force. The repairman that I chose to use to fix my laptop's keyboard had a website but no physical address, which worried me. He came over to my house and picked up my laptop. He had me fill out a paper indicating that he was going to work on it and that he received my money. But he didn't give me anything that showed that he actually had my laptop.

Being the son of two paranoids, I began to panic that I had just given a computer to a guy who was just going to walk away with it never to return. I asked for a receipt and the guy looked at me like I was from Mars. He wrote down on the back of his business card that he picked up the laptop and left me with that.

While I don't think that asking for a receipt was out of line (it protects him as much as it does me), it was clearly born of my distrust of pretty much, well, everyone. It was another instance of my mother's trying to protect me crippling me instead.

Fly Lady Update:

Didn't do any flying today. I think I will go put the dishes away out of the dishwasher once I am done, but I didn't get anything else done today. I will try to make up for it on the weekend.

---

The Cure, Trust

Water Music

I forgot water Wednesday yesterday. I was ill and preoccupied, so I didn't pay much attention to what day it was. But I had juice Wednesday, so the basic idea (a respite from soda) did get accomplished.

Fly Lady Update:

Tina and I worked a little on the kitchen yesterday. Again, being sick I didn't put a lot into it. But any movement forward is not movement backward, so there's that.

---

Handel with Water Music, naturally.

The Cleanup Woman

It all starts with the fact that I don't care what my surroundings look like and never have. Like most kids my room would after a time become a mess. This never bothered me. As I said, I didn't care. My mother, however, did care. A lot. Like everything else. So when she got tired of looking at it, she'd do one of two things. She'd either make me clean it up or she'd clean it up herself.

If she made me clean it up, she had me do it to her standard. Only her standard seemed to me to be perfection. No matter how much I did, now matter how hard I worked, it seemed like it was never enough. I'm not arguing I should have been allowed a weak or half-hearted attempt at cleaning. I just shouldn't have been held to an adult standard.

If she cleaned it up, then the fun really began, because my mother had no regard for what I wanted as far as my room goes. She asked me what color walls I wanted in my room once. I said purple. She painted the room pink. She tried to tell me it was lavender, but we had the Crayola® 64 pack of crayons and I wasn't buying it. I think the room is still the same vomitous shade of pink to this day.

So, since, as I said, she didn't care at all what I wanted, when she cleaned the room she put things wherever she wanted them. And since she didn't care about my stuff, she didn't remember where she put stuff when she did it. So if she cleaned my room, I instantly was unable to use it for anything I wanted.

Hence my cleaning problem, as I call it. When I start cleaning, it's back breaking and fatiguing and I don't know when to stop. And I cannot ask for help, because I am deathly afraid I will not be able to find anything again. And considering the difficulty I have remembering where things are when I do it myself, this is seriously a problem.

Aside from the shenanigans with the ex-wife, this is my final huge hurdle to face. But I do hold out hope that I can get this done.

Fly Lady Update:

I dusted today and that's about it. The time it took me to find the duster in the store today pretty much put me off track for the rest of the evening because of my evening appointments. But I will give it a good whack again tomorrow.

---

Betty Wright

I'm so tired

One thing about ACA is that the mere act of existing can be tiring. Stress doesn't help.

Fly Lady Update:

Worked on the living room some today and Tina and I did the timer on the dining room table. Just a couple bites of elephant.

---

The Beatles

I'll fly away

In a post titled Come Fly With Me I talked about the FlyLady and her site to help the messy who have a clutter problem get on track to having a presentable house. And I said I was going to try to get back to following her habits to getting a clean house. Well, I met Kathy and that went out of the window. Only thing is, now she's moving down here in a month, and it has thus become very important that I start up again.

And so, while I will still write about ACA, I will also chronicle my daily adventures in rescuing my house from clutter. This is going to test how far I have actually come in repairing myself. Wish me luck.

---

I didn't use the song for the original Come Fly With Me post, so I am going to use it here now.

However, I like the song I'll Fly Away, so I am going to use it here now too.

Undone

The best-laid schemes o' mice an' men gang aft agley.

from "To a Mouse" by Robert Burns

A while back I wrote here that the not-quite-yet-ex-wife had agreed to terms to make the ex part official. Well, now she wants to change the agreement. Needless to say I am less than pleased by this turn. And our most recent attempt at negotiation has become rancorous. This was one of the things that kept me away from the keyboard the past few days, by the way.

There is no rush to get the divorce from the standpoint of getting together with Kathy, but there is a rush for me in that I need to be free from her manipulative game playing once and for all. Your prayers in this regard are welcome.

---

The Guess Who

Where've you been?

You may have noticed that I haven't been keeping my daily schedule of posting lately. I have had some things going on that have required my attention, some of which will appear here in the next day or two. I am happy to announce that one of them was helping Kathy as she applied for and got a job where I live. This is very happy news and I have been a little busy with her to do this. But I'm not going anywhere. Trust me.

---

Kathy Mattea (no relation)

For Kathy: the egg

Once when I was a kid my mother asked me to bring her an egg from the refrigerator. I dutifully went to the refrigerator and got one for her. I forget the manner in which I was carrying it, but I do remember that it was not to her liking. Up until that point I was carrying it fine without any struggle or distress. My mother looked up from whatever she was doing, saw how I was carrying the egg, and said loudly "Don't hold that that way, you're going to drop it." I was so startled by her angry admonition that instantly at that moment I dropped the egg.

§

One day I was weaving my way through students walking along at my community college and I noticed how graceful and almost ballet-like I was moving. I stopped for a second and thought about this. I supposedly was awkward and uncoordinated, at least according to my family. And yet here I was sliding in between everyone with style and flair. I realized that most of the negative things that I supposedly was I only was around them. For whatever reason, their projections about me changed my reality.

§

I was watching an episode of Kitchen Nightmares (the American version) where the chef of a Greek restaurant came to prep and was hectored by his mother and aunt as to his worthlessness. As they continued to carp and snipe and carp and snipe you could see him shutting off. But the aunt and mother didn't even realize that by focusing on his failures, they were causing the very thing they hated.

§

In William Glasser's book about marriage he talks about how complaining is the one of the greatest destroyers of marriage. When faced with a constant onslaught of criticism, rather than improvement you get disengagement, which, of course increases the criticism.

§

I try not to tell people what I am doing anymore, because their words, their thoughts, their projections seem to be able to influence my world, even now. The closest Kathy and I have ever come to a fight is because of something someone else said, projecting their negative feelings and impressions of me to her. I would say they bold-faced lied, except that they believe what they are saying is true.

Although my FOO and I are in a better place now than before, I hesitate to introduce her to my family because I am afraid that it will forever taint my relationship with her. She finds her family very supportive and positive for her. I have told her that she should cherish that, because it is a rare and precious thing.

Be careful what you say and who you say it to. You may be making people the very bad things you're berating them about.

---

Bach, for no particular reason.

Welcome to day twelve.

I have reached a milestone of sorts. I am now on Step 12 of the ACA steps. Step 12 is:

Having had a spiritual awakening as a result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to others who still suffer, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.

This is something that I have been trying to do all along through both this blog and my various participations at ACoA related sites.

Although Step 12 is the last of the steps, I am not at all done. Many people go through the whole set of steps more than once to make sure they've addressed everything that needs to be addressed. And Step 10 sort of forces you to cycle through everything forever anyway.

But it is something to say that I have traveled this journey and it is clear that I have made many changes as the result of it. I still have plenty of lessons to learn and so this blog isn't going anywhere. But Step 12 is a milestone, and so I am going to note it.

---

Bob and Doug Mackenzie. Best I've got for 12.

And everything's the same back in my little town

I'm liking my life at the moment. There are a lot of things happening for me right now and I am positively excited for my future. But I have for a number of reasons had conversation with folks in the town I am originally from and they have been hard to have.

First of all, they are going through some hard times. My hometown is economically depressed and there are a lot of people there unemployed or underemployed. The causes for economic failure are complex and the only thing approaching a solution that I can offer is to suggest they move.

And with them having a hard time, there are some people back there that aren't wanting to hear about my success. It would be nice if everyone I know was selfless enough to wish someone well while they are down, but they're not and I am not mad at them for that. But it does urge me to run the old tapes of me being guilty for wanting what I want and getting what I want.

But, as they say in baseball about having four power hitting outfielders and only three positions, it's a nice problem to have.

---

Simon and Garfunkel

Homeward bound

I've been with Kathy these last few days. On Tuesday I am on my way home. Only thing is, when I am with Kathy, then I am truly home.

---

Home, where my thought's escaping. Home, where my music's playing. Home, where my love lies waiting silently for me.

Stone cold sober, as a matter of fact.

This is now approaching the level of Hollywood farce. Stella gave me a moderately expensive gift for my birthday (less than $500 more than $100). She then dropped me via text during a hurricane. She dropped me.

When you're in an adult relationship, sometimes you leave stuff at each other's abode. I sent her everything that I could think of and then later the one thing I hadn't thought of prior. I later met with her to give her an opportunity to give her closure. This for a normal person would be the end of it. Alas, sad to say, she's not normal.

She has since on her blog exaggerated about me and has downright lied about me. She uses my real name on her blog when I don't use hers (or even my own) on this one. She has talked about me at least once a week on said blog. She's maintained Facebook relationships with people in my life to IMO spy on me. She's scoured the internet finding other places I write or post other works. And she's asked for this moderately expensive gift back.

Her ridiculous pretext for asking for the gift back is that I was fraudulent in my relationship with her. Beyond being simply not true, it was a gift freely given and I gave her gifts of equivalent value that I do not wish back because they were gifts.

Today she's contacted me about this for the fourth or fifth time and I am starting to be concerned that she will be coming after me bodily next. Kathy says that the best course of action is to ignore her, which other than here is exactly what I have been doing all along. I agree with this. So I am handing this off to my Higher Power. But it's getting really old really fast.

---

Chosen on purpose. Elton John and Tina Turner.

Gung Hei Fat Choi

It's Happy New Year in China already and will be Chinese New Year tomorrow in the United States. It will be the year of the Dragon, which always makes me think of Bruce Lee. Coincidentally, Kathy turns out to be a dragon. I use Chinese New Year primarily as an excuse to celebrate and eat Chinese food. So let's get started.

---

Two Flashlights

Two flashlights.

Flashlight number one. What eventually drove me out of radio was a dissatisfaction with the respect I was getting for working my butt off. I wasn't being paid much of anything and getting grief that I was actually being over paid, this at a time when a six day 60 hour work week was a light week.

This particular radio station was highly computerized and while individuals knew how their individual systems worked, there were only two people who knew how they all worked together: a friend of mine who worked for them part time until just before I left and me, the only person to whom he taught all of this stuff.

Well, eventually I left, as I said, and they went on without me. However they got to a point where their billing system wasn't reconciling with their commercial scheduling system. So they called me. I decided on a gouge-worthy price for my fixing it and went in. After I fixed it, they said they couldn't pay me any money, but they could give me a barter item.

I chose one that was the cost of my price, a very expensive, solid flashlight. I called it my Perry Mason flashlight because it could double as a murder weapon. Alas it left when the ex-wife did, in the trunk of her mother's car.

§

Flashlight number two. I told Stella about the first flashlight and she was bound and determined to replace it. I told her the model and that I wanted one with a LED bulb, LED flashlights having been invented in the interim. I was very specific. The reason I was very specific is because there was a tendency in my life for people to get me not what I wanted but something they thought was good enough.

Come whatever gift occasion it was, I opened it to discover that it was the exact version of above and not the one with the LED light. I was glad to get it but once again was disappointed by it. I have never opened the new flashlight. It still pains me to look at it, the disappointment is so great.

§

I know that both of these stories have something to do with my being ACoA, but I don't quite know yet what. I am going to think about it and get back to you.

---

Parliament, 'cause everybody's got to get a little light under the sun.

Personal property

As a part of my job, everything that I do is reviewed by a colleague to assure that it has been done correctly. The work is complex and the ultimate end users so painstaking that this type of review is necessary and no matter how good you are at it, a mistake or two will be made.

It is the job of the reviewer to note any deficiencies so that I may correct them. I am friends with my colleagues and they have the same dedication to a quality product. It is simply business and nothing personal. And yet...

I still take it personally. I don't mean that I react that way. What I do is read the comments, make the changes, and move on. But I still perceive it as a pointing out of my personal deficiencies. That isn't what is meant. I know these people better. The reaction comes from my ACoA issues.

Growing up, everything was made to feel my fault. People have told me they have found my need to be right almost as annoying as my tendency to actually be right. But that all comes from having to constantly prove that I was right in order to be heard by my mother. I am defensive because I was constantly on the defensive.

It no longer hamstrings me. It can be an extra deficit to overcome, but it can be overcome. As I said, I just take it at face value and move forward. I just look forward to the day when I don't have to take so many grains of salt with everything.

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Karla Bonoff, bringing it to you personally.

Get to know me!

I'm coming at you with three seemingly unrelated things but if you bear with me, you'll see the relationship. First, it once again is Water Wednesday. This week I am much better about it than last week, because this week I am trying to detoxify just a little bit.

I take vitamin supplements for various ailments (or the prevention thereof). Lately I have noticed that one of the ailments for which I take the vitamins was actually getting worse. After a little process of elimination, I have figured out the one causing the problem and have ceased taking it.

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I just finished one of the self-improvement books I have read and in it the author concluded the book by saying "Everything I just told you is wrong." No, he wasn't saying that he had just played some kind of prank on the reader. He explained that while what he had said about how to become successful was what he did, that his path was his path and we had to follow our path. That is to say, what worked for him might not be what works for you.

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I am also finishing Co-Dependent No More (which I thought I had finished *sigh*) and found a chapter in which she talked about a family choosing a therapist for a problem, only to find the therapist more focused on the parents's smoking than anything else. They weren't sure what was wrong with the family dynamic, but they were pretty sure parental smoking wasn't it. She too stressed that we are the ultimate arbiters of what is right for us and what is working.

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In the end there are no sure fire, foolproof failsafe blueprints on how to live your life. You learn what you can from others, but you have to see what works for you. You of course have to be aware of whether you're giving something enough time to work for you and if you are only saying something doesn't work to avoid working on things. But in the end you know you better than anyone, something else that I am learning.

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Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes

Ill will

No blog entry last night because I felt ill. I feel better today so I will do one later on tonight. Ill; will. Get it? Never mind.

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Keith, in honor of my standard temperature and feeling better.

Don't worry. Be happy.

A while back I wrote about gifts given from people I never met and in it I mentioned a crazy little book by Phil Laut called Money Is My Friend.  Well, today I'd like to recommend two more very slim but very helpful books. One is Self Rescue, by John Cantwell Kiley, which teaches you about surviving anything. And the other is Being Happy! by Andrew Matthews, which teaches you about, well, being happy. Thanks to Kathy for hipping me to the latter one.

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You might want to sing it note for note.