CHRISTMAS DAY & GREAT EXPECTATIONS

I love a drizzly holiday season filled with dark gray sky. It makes my Christmas tree shine all the brighter.

Christmas 2003 was the 3rd without my father. The dust had finally settled after his death and I was left with a joy and serenity as never before. Christmas morning I could still smell the cinnamon candles in the air from the night before.

After preparing a delicious breakfast of eggnog pancakes, I decided upon a movie from my collection of VCR tapes. (Remember this was 2003!) The movie I chose was a 1998 update of Charles Dickens’s GREAT EXPECTATIONS. I had seen all film versions but this one.

The novel had been our class assignment in the 9^th grade. Taken a chapter at a time, we’d discuss it at length in class. Unlike other such assignments; I actually enjoyed the story, enough to read ahead of the class. We embarked on this literary adventure right around the holiday season, it felt like a Christmas treat!

Always, I was right there with the characters! However, sometimes Pip was a real PIP!!! Never could I understand his obsession with the bitchy Estella. Also anyone spending 5 seconds with Miss Havisham could see she was a real nutcase! However, if you are wealthy enough, others are willing to overlook many sins. Sadly, that’s true even today.

None of the movie Estellas looked the way I pictured her. Not one was a particular beauty. The actress who played the Mom in the old FATHER KNOWS BEST series was Estella in the early version we watched in the school auditorium. I found her an incredulous choice!

Even worse was Gwyneth Paltrow in the 1998 update! That movie should have been given a different title! It was only loosely based on the Dickens novel. To my astonishment, it started out in Florida, my home state!!! (Had you told me this back in the 9^th grade, I would have exclaimed, “No way!”) Albeit over on the Gulf Coast, I live on the Treasure Coast.

The modern version held no magic. GREAT EXPECTATIONS should always remain a Victorian tale. Still, I found it interesting as a novelty.

In my opinion, Michael York made the best adult Pip in the 1974 made for TV adaptation.

My only complaint with the novel was that I hated the ending. --- Both of them! In the original, Pip & Estella met again after many years, and then go their separate ways. Due to public protest, Dickens changed it. Now the story has a love will find a way type ending. Given the nature of these characters, I thought that too unrealistic.

Here’s the way I would have it end: Pip and Estella would both wed others. A decade later, the couples would meet at a soiree. An older, considerably less attractive Estella would be tipsy and up to her usual number, shamelessly flirting with every man in the room before her humiliated husband. Pip would be shaking his head, while whispering under his breath, “Thank God I dodged that cannon ball.” Then he would extend his arm to his wife and with a smile, the two would depart to attend a theatre performance across town. There would be no looking back.

The following year Junior High was behind me, now it was 10^th grade and SILAS MARNER! Arguably the most boring, tedious book ever written!!! Why on earth it’s considered a classic I’ll never know. Forcing students to read it should have been regarded as mental torture. Why couldn’t they have assigned a good Thomas Hardy novel? There are plenty!

And Christmas 2003 was over way too soon. 2004 was the year the 2 hurricanes hit the Treasure Coast, only 3 weeks apart to the day. My home stood in disrepair until spring! That year, I was not up to celebrating the holidays.

INFLATION RATIONALIZATION

Ah, the holiday season is here again! Also known as the over-spending season! I don’t buy that many gifts, but I do love all those special holiday foods. Many are way expensive, but the holiday season is brief.

However, a bar of Milky Way Dark tastes just as (if not more) delicious to me as gourmet chocolate. I remember when you could buy ANY Mars bar for just 5 cents! I was furious when they jumped to a dime!

Here I go talking old, again. So if you grew up with computers stop reading right now, because you are not going to relate to anything in this posting.

During early fall when I was 9, my parents took a 4 day trip over to the other coast. Since I was in school, I stayed home with my grandfather & brother. My brother (11 years older) was getting ready to go into the army. Being guys, they didn’t want to cook or do any dishes, so we ate out every night. We hit every dive restaurant in town because they were so cheap. And we ate well!

Never was it soup OR salad with our entrees, always it was both with rolls included. Plus we ordered dessert! Our meals were only a few bucks for the 3 of us. 

Nowadays, a dessert alone cost more than 3 meals together back then! Sure, wages were far less, but money stretched a whole lot farther! You could actually support a family on one modest income.

Several of my friends came from large families with 5 or more kids. Their fathers were truck drivers or laborers and their moms were homemakers. They didn’t have many luxuries, but nobody starved, either.

Now more than ever it’s expensive just to breathe!

I would have NEVER considered shopping in a Thrift Store back in my 20’s! Now I’m paying the same amount (sometimes more) for second hand clothes as I used to pay for new in the 1970’s!

A visit to the doctor was $8! Around the mid 1970’s, I handed the receptionist my $8 check and was informed the price was now $15 forcing me to dig into my purse. Prices don’t leap, they pole vault!

Now that I’ve entered my senior years, I’m forced to make big changes. I’m thinking with my wallet more than ever.

Two big exploratory trips are ahead of me, one in 2015 and another in early 2016. Every spare penny is going toward these. Afterward, I must make a life altering decision. There can be no more rationalization about inflation.

TRUST YOURSELF, ONLY

Last month, after I gave a brief speech at a business networking event to promote my books, a lady approached me. She liked my look and wanted to hire me to go shopping with her. I told her my look was ever-changing because I love to experiment with different styles. Fashion should be fun and never stagnant!

If she wanted, I told her, I’d go shopping with her free of charge to make suggestions, but she would be the decider.

In my latest book, co-authored with April Sampson, I encourage women to shop alone as not to be influenced by another’s preference. Your look should reflect your taste and be yours alone. Learn to trust your own judgment! If you think you look good, you do! Never try to be a clone of someone else!

If you admire someone’s look, incorporate those elements into your own appearance, but they should never dominate.

I have been given terrible advice by much smarter people; sometimes it was intentional, sometimes not. Intelligence isn’t always wisdom. Plus I don’t believe in turning total control over to anyone or anything, often there’s an agenda, one that is not in my best interest.

The only good advice I ever received from my mother came at age 12 when I started wearing a bra. She told me, “Never take beauty advice from other girls. They’re all jealous and out to sabotage you.”

I came to this realization myself at age 14. I was still a natural blonde then, but just barely. I sat waiting in the school auditorium with the rest of 8^th grade waiting to have my yearbook photos taken. (My folks rarely purchased these, usually I looked too gruesome.) I think the school hired the photographer from the DMV!

As I waited with the crowd of other kids, a friend since our elementary days strolled over. “Let me fix your hair for the picture, please?” She asked with a sweet smile.

This girl always looked well put together. She had a stylish haircut which she fashioned herself. I was flattered and eager. She spent what seemed like a long time fussing with my dishwater blonde locks. Finally, she finished.

“Don’t touch anything,” she said, “You look perfect!”

Before long, I was ordered up the steps with the rest of my row. Soon, only one person stood in front of me. A mirror happened to be there for last minute touches. – As I gazed at myself, I was horrified!!! I wanted to cry. My short, curly (usually all over my head) locks were completely flat down to my ears. Plus this “friend” had parted my hair in the middle with goofy curls at ear length all around the back of my skull! I looked like a side-show geek straight out of American Horror Story, one that eats live chickens in a pit for the entertainment of the crowd! (Oh wait that’s another show!) Quickly, I pulled out my comb and tried to undo it! At that moment the photographer waved me over barking to “Hurry up!” Needless to say, my parents didn’t buy my photos that year, either. Thank goodness!

As for my so-called friend, I KNOW SHE KNEW BETTER!!! After the stunt she tried to pull, I kept my distance and regarded with suspicion ever since.  

During the early 1980’s, I watched a TV magazine show, one segment featured a professional in a bat-winged jumpsuit who arrogantly pulled clothes from her client’s closets. She tossed them on the floor while criticizing their taste. Had she done this in my home, I would have attacked her with a pointed toe shoe! Those bat-wing sleeves would be flapping right out the door!

I buy clothes because I love them. Plus I become sentimentally attached, I recall all the memories I made while wearing them. Also I’d never want to wear someone else’s taste!

In the book, I make only suggestions to help women improve their appearance, along with options that won’t break their budget. However it’s YOUR preference that counts and YOU are the one you need to please.

COMPUTERS SHMOOTERS

It’s no secret that I struggle with technology! I still don’t own a cell phone, just a land-line. I know this is considered seriously uncool, but I’m free to be this way! It’s 1 of the perks of being old!

Recently, I purchased another book that claimed to simplify computers for seniors. They lied!!! I could have read the 1^st chapter over & over from now until doomsday and still wouldn’t understand what I was reading. I returned it for a refund!

What I really need is a book that breaks down and defines all those computer terms in the 1^st chapter. The ensuing chapters should focus upon the application of each. Instead, they throw everything at you at one time! Hell, half of it may as well be written in Chinese!

The good news is that I did not lose my young Tech guy, Jake after all! He has been slowly closing down his computer repair and tutorial service. Thankfully, because we have become friends he will continue to help me when I need it. Jake is a gem! I have also hired him to hang my beaded curtain, fix my broken kitchen cabinet door, and do other assorted jobs. Jake reminds me of my father in that he is as equally skilled with his hands as he is head smart.-- Although my father was as equally frustrated and flummoxed by computers as I am!

In the past, I’ve hired more than a few Tech guys. Once, when I could not get Jake and I needed someone immediately, I called a man from the yellow pages. He was a laconic, middle-aged sort who charged $100 an hour. I stated that I was putting our session on the clock because I was on a fixed income. Well the S.O.B. charged an extra $5 for the time it took to write his check!

Jake even purchased a microwave for me on his own time after mine broke. Jake is the best!

Not long ago, I was in a store when the computer was down, I remarked to the kid behind the counter that I couldn’t understand how anyone could possibly remember all those steps, but then I didn’t grow up with computers. He replied, “Oh come on lady, they had computers back in the 80’s!” He gave me a look as if I was too stupid to live.

HE wasn’t even around in the 80’s, I was! Personal computers were rare, then! No one in my circle owned one until 2000! Some businesses used them in the 80’s, but only about half!

During the 90’s, I got a word processor. To my astonishment it was already obsolete. Neighbors and acquaintances would come over to gaze upon it with awe; none of these people were into technology!

With this machine, I could do anything in either 3 steps, 4 at the most. Plus it came with a manual! Everything was explicitly and simply explained. Also an 800 number was included! Plus I could reach a technician right away, no menus or death holds! And there was none of this, “Oh that didn’t work, now let’s try this.” Issues were cleared up immediately. I miss that machine terribly!

Later, problems arose because it was old technology. The local office depot had to order supplies just for me. And with age it kept breaking down more frequently. The only repairman qualified to fix it was located in West Palm Beach, an hour south of where we lived. After my father & I moved to Vero Beach, it was 2 hours away. It became too inconvenient.

Now back to the 1980’s; I recall when my pious cousin and aunt came for a stay, they invited friends to our house, religious cuckoos who swore the anti-Christ would be a computer. And my relatives agreed!

That reminded me of an old pill of a teacher I had during the early 1960’s. She believed likewise about TV’s! Often, she told with pride about moving into her new home and the 1^st thing she did was to rip out the TV by the wires and throw it in the trash. She didn’t want her family exposed to mind pollution or her young son to see half-naked saloon girls, by golly!

Computers have their place in my life. The only thing I have against these machines is that I don’t like having them forced on me at every turn. My 2 close friends Pat & Margaret passed from this world at the end of the last decade never having owned or needing one.

Some of the best outside workers I’ve hired were senior men. Whenever I would ask for an estimate to be emailed, I was told with a chuckle, “I never mess with computers.” – Often, I wish I didn’t have to!

NO THANK YOU, BLACK FRIDAY

It’s still Thanksgiving morning; my bulging newspaper was stuffed with catalogs and sale flyers. Without even browsing, I separated and carried all those ads straight to the recycle bin.

That notorious and much heralded day of shopping will soon be upon us.

I don't do Black Friday, period! Normally, I enjoy shopping. But crowds, noise, confusion, and stress I do NOT need. Besides, there's 365 days a year to buy gifts! Why wait until the holiday season? There are sales year round! Holidays should be fun, not stressful!

Unbelievably, stores are now open on Thanksgiving Day! I find that obscene. It's greed run amok!

Normally, I love to shop! Among my talents, I have a knack for finding cool things that others overlook. Many times, people have stopped to point inside my basket and inquire where I found a particular item, or else someone in the line behind would tap me. More than once, a check-out clerk has picked up my item and exclaimed, “I didn’t know we sold this! Where did you find it?” This has happened to me in other countries as well.

Friends and even enemies used to say that I could go into a Thrift Shop and come out looking like a million bucks! Believe me; I’m in my element in ANY store. However, I prefer my shopping excursions to be without pressure and no one’s elbow in my back. Besides, I buy few gifts now. Plus I don’t need any more stuff.

My Black Fridays are spent erecting & decorating my Christmas tree. Since my tree is tall & wide, it’s an all day job! Not to mention a hazardous one for someone who is no longer young. My entire body aches the following day. However, it’s well worth the trouble.

Standing beneath this gorgeous creation of artificial fern, brightly colored lights, & gaudy decorations, I am uplifted. I embrace this feeling. I only wish the holiday season could last forever.

My big, garish tree is just for me to enjoy. And enjoy it, I do! The day after Thanksgiving for me, is filled with color.

GETTING ANTSY

Besides ugly mold upon my roof and driveway, the summer storms drove the ants inside my walls. By autumn, they were invading the inside of my home. The day prior to last Thanksgiving, sugar ants were everywhere in my kitchen! Thanks to a cold front the night before, they were gone Thanksgiving morning. My holiday was saved!

A few weeks back, I returned from lunch with a friend. The first thing I did was to slip off my shoes before getting a drink of water. As I stood over the sink, my feet and ankles began stinging with pain. Red ants were all over my kitchen floor!

That morning thanks to the Florida humidity, my International Coffee had hardened into a rock! I used a knife where a jackhammer was required. Flavored coffee powder was flying everywhere! I thought I’d cleaned it all up, apparently not! Hey, this was around 5:30 AM everything was dark!

In the bright light of afternoon, I could see the red invasion! I did not want to spray RAID around my kitchen and pantry. In my garage was a powder guaranteed to kill them. It cautioned against using around pets & children. Since I have neither, I thought I was safe. I covered my floor with the stuff & went upstairs to change my clothes and program my DVR, etc.

After about an hour, I was ready to vacuum. Perhaps it’s because my vacuum was old, (I empty after each use, honest!) instead of sucking up the powder, it was blown up into the air to form a white atomic-looking cloud spreading poison throughout my house. Quickly I dropped the handle and dashed upstairs 3 steps at a time instead of 2! -- I didn’t want that stuff in my lungs!

After reading the entire newspaper from cover-to-cover, I determined it was safe to come back down. I swept up all the poison powder, and then mopped my floor with bleach.

Since then, several people have told me I should have used baking  powder & vinegar for ants & clean-up because they are less hazardous. As a history buff, that reminds me of the final days of WWII. Hitler armed children & old men to defend the homeland; this is vinegar & baking powder. To really get the job done right, you need bleach & insecticide! They are like the U.S. Marines storming the beach at Normandy. Sure, there’s a chance you’ll get hit by friendly fire, but that’s just collateral damage.

The following day, I bought a new vacuum cleaner. It was light-weight, just as my previous one. I don’t like lugging anything heavy up my staircase. Unlike my previous one, this one required assembly!

I am about as skilled at assembling things as I am at programming a computer, which is not at all! Others tell me this is precisely why I need a husband. In other words, I should make 2 people unhappy just so I can have a free handyman.

I ended up putting it in my spare room with the half-assembled fan I bought 2 summers ago.

Anytime you see a solitary ant, crush it! This is a scout, the little Flint McCullough of ants. (If you grew up during the Golden Age of Westerns as I did, you know who he is.) If the little ant McCullough doesn’t return, the settlers will stay away.

Ant-wise, I’m all prepared for this Thanksgiving! I’ve thoroughly cleaned my counter tops and pantry. Plus I’m armed with bait traps, talc, and boric acid. Also cheap Dollar Store perfume works in a pinch if I want to drown them. -- Cough!

BEHOLD MY PERLIOUS MOLD

Seems like every single afternoon throughout the last summer it stormed around 2:00 PM. And I mean booming thunder, lightning, & heavy rains! This was hardly the sunshine state.

Come autumn, the result was ugly mold coating my roof and driveway. Naively, I didn’t expect problems in hiring someone to pressure clean it. The last time was in 2010. My (then) neighbor informed me they had hired someone and I needed it done, too. “You won’t find anyone cheaper or better,” she said. – Well, I wish I had saved the guy’s phone number!

Several business cards were left on my door. Also I called numbers in the yellow pages. Nine out of ten times, I reached an answering machine. A week passed before I heard from most!

The 1^st to come and give me an estimate stated that he’d done my home back in 2003 and he didn’t want the job again! My steep-pitched 2-story roof was too dangerous. I heard this repeatedly! The few willing to do the job wanted about three times as much as I’d paid in 2010!

When I complained about the price, I was informed that all sorts of special safety equipment were required. -- The man who cleaned my roof in 2010 never set foot up there at all!!! He stayed on the ground the entire time. He just aimed his pressure cleaner up there and the mold came off like magic! These guys were handing me a load of B.S.!!!

After the double hurricanes of 2004, I remember all the professional roofers who refused to climb up there without safety equipment to give me an estimate. I also remember the Insurance adjuster who climbed up attired in his starched shirt & slacks, tie, & street shoes. He was agile as a mountain goat and made the guys in jeans, T-shirts, & sneakers look like wimps!

I asked why they couldn’t just get an 8 foot ladder, climb up three quarters of the way and avoid setting foot on the roof altogether. “Oh we can’t do a good job that way,” I was told.

“Good-bye!” I replied. I’m a single woman on a fixed income. People try to take advantage of me all the time.

Along the way, I asked a friend for advice, a lady who is business savvy and way smarter than I am. “Contact your Insurance Co.,” she said. “They might pay for it.”

I was flabbergasted hearing this! She is a good person and I know she meant well, but after weathering 6 hurricanes (3 alone) numerous northeasters and tropical storms, I knew instantly this was TERRIBLE advice!!! Unless there is catastrophic damage to your home, NEVER contact them! This results in a red mark by your name followed by a significant rise in rates.

My options were now growing ever more limited. I turned to the Service Directory of the local newspaper. In the past, I’d been warned never to hire workers from there. However my best and most reliable handyman I found there. Also this is where I got my Tech guy Jake, who was a gem. I miss them both!

Two pressure cleaners were listed. I called each for an estimate. One phoned from the road in front of my house, he never once got out of his truck! He informed me he didn’t want the job, because my roof looked way too hazardous.

The 2^nd was an older man (my age) who was listed under AAAAAA Affordable Pressure Cleaning. I explained about the previous cleaner in 2010. He nodded and said he could figure how the guy did it. He was hired!

All of the ugly mold is gone now! He did a perfect job! Plus it was performed at a price I could afford. And he never once set foot on my roof!!!

BEAUTY OF PLASTIC: FANTASTIC OR DRASTIC

Every time I hear someone say, “I’m proud of my wrinkles, I earned them!” I’m tempted to reply, “Egads, you must have done horrible, wicked things!”  

I see no virtue in aging gracefully. People should be ashamed for allowing themselves to fall apart!

An acquaintance, a delightful lady my age, recently had work done. It was quite obvious. But I didn’t know whether or not to say anything. Honestly, the before wasn’t bad. I didn’t see as she had reached the point yet where work was needed. However she looks great and you can’t argue with results!

Back when I turned 60, people didn’t hesitate to ask, “What have you had done?”

Hey, I’m poor; I can’t afford any of that stuff! Fortunately, clean living is still mostly working for me. People who smoke, drink, or do drugs age in dog years, just look around!

However, Old Man Time like The Grim Reaper can only be fended off for so long.

The only thing I have against plastic surgery is that it’s too darn expensive! If I had the money, you’d better believe I’d be hauling it over and getting cut, hoisted, sucked, & tucked as needed.

As for Botox, I’m leery of that. Any time you paralyze a muscle it’s going to atrophy. Just look at the legs of people who’ve spent years in a wheelchair. And Botox is injected into the face! We don’t know the long term effects, yet. However, when I turn 70 I’m not going to be worried about long term effects!

Back in the early 1990’s, ENTERTAINMENT TONIGHT featured the PETTICOAT JUNCTION actresses. They were attired in the exact clothing from the show and still sported the same hairstyles. However, their faces were that of old hags, it almost made my flesh crawl and my hair stand on end. It was downright creepy-surreal! These were actually attractive women, once! You know darn well they were probably getting whopping residuals from that show. You’d think they could spend a little on some cosmetic surgery, now and then. Usually, women who eschew this never had any looks worth hanging onto in the first place.

After seeing the photos, I’m really disappointed in you, Renee Zellweger! I’m sure you have been welcomed with open arms into the frump-a-dump brigade. Online, some are saying this is the result of plastic surgery gone wrong. Hot cat pee! Why didn’t she sue that doctor into the dirt! If that’s the result of a healthy lifestyle (as she claims) I’m helping myself to a chocolate éclair and cola right now!

True, undergoing cosmetic surgery involves risk, its SURGERY after all! The results are only as good as the doctor performing the procedure.

Back in 1996 a family friend spent $15,000 on surgery to her face and body right after she turned 75. Shortly after, the new and improved “Cora” came for a visit. Well, she looked scarcely different from the year before.

Cora admitted to being disappointed. Plus $15,000 was a lot more money back then! Among other things, she had her ample breasts hoisted, since they had fallen nearly down to her navel. After the procedure they were uneven and misshapen. – We took her word for it, she didn’t show us!

Cora returned to the surgeon and complained. “So you’re telling me I don’t know how to do my job!” was his reaction.

I asked if she made inquires with the BBB about the doctor. She shook her head. He was just someone she had selected from the yellow pages. I urged her to file a complaint against him.

Everything in life has risks; you just have to do whatever’s available to protect yourself.

Of course when it comes to personal enhancement, you’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t! Back during the BAYWATCH years a guest on a local TV talk show made derogatory remarks about Pamela Anderson, saying her tan and other parts of her were phony! I’ve heard many other actresses referred to as plastic looking as well. These critics are overlooking something here. They fail to realize that in Hollywood looks are your livelihood! – Personally, I don’t go to movies to see ordinary, I want glamour!

Also your appearance is part of your identity!!!  

Many claim that plastic surgery won’t change your life. I disagree! If you feel happier looking into the mirror, that’s changing your life right there! My expensive dental work changed mine tremendously! I smile and wink at my reflection all the time. There was time I would NEVER smile, period! I have way more confidence now, too.

My friend Margaret once told me that other women don’t care about their looks as much as the two of us. “We should be glad,” she said. “It means less competition.”

I’m asexual and I don’t consider myself in competition with other women. I derive pleasure from anything that is appealing to the eye. I want to see MORE beautiful women around!!! It astounds me that most people maintain their homes better than their appearance. I say, keep America beautiful in every possible way!

HOME OF DARKNESS ON HALLOWEEN

This will be the 2^nd year in a row I am foregoing the annual Oct. 31 shake down. Candy, like everything else is getting expensive. Kids from surrounding subdivisions all descend like locusts!

Halloween was an exciting, much anticipated holiday when I was a kid. Now it's far less fun on this side of the sweets.

"It's the worst night of the year!" a former neighbor used to say. “I always pray for rain!”

Me too! Every year the kids seem to get older, ruder, and more demanding. I’m sick of them telling me what they will and will not accept! --- They were lucky to get anything from me, period!

I reached the point where I would buy only the cheapest hard candy I could find. If they wanted chocolate, they’d have to go to the home across the street, the place that’s lit-up like a roadhouse 365 days a year.

I hoped I’d get a reputation for my lousy candy and the kids would avoid me altogether. No such luck!

Plus there was no option to opt out. Lord knows I tried!

During the past decade, several times I’d leave my house dark, then retreat into my office in the back room to work on the computer. Every 5 to10 minutes I was driven up the walls by ding, ding, ding! -- Last century when I was trick-or-treating, we knew enough to avoid a dark house. Kids today are clueless!

When my father & I moved here, I complained about having to distribute treats to rude, ungrateful kids. He declared it was my obligation to the neighborhood! -- Hey, I pay my yearly homeowner’s fee. My obligation ends there! Half the neighbors don’t pay it! These are all people who drive expensive, late model cars. It wouldn't surprise me if their kids were the ones who tell me, "Don't give me that!" when I dole out the goods on Halloween.

A close friend experienced her proverbial last straw 2 years ago. Around 9:00 PM she was besieged with a flood of children from outside her neighborhood. Half were carrying an extra bag supposedly for a sick sibling. (An obvious rip-off!) Ever since, she and her husband have decided to be away on that date.

This friend is big hearted. She volunteers her free time to help neglected kids. -- Children can go step on a land-mine for all I care!!! I don’t see kids thru rose-colored blinders the way other people do.

My last straw occurred that year, too. I was costumed in a burgundy Victorian gown I bought on sale from The Pyramid Collection. I also wore a long blonde wig and sported exaggerated dark eye make-up. 

A couple of girls who looked around 15 (too old to be trick-or-treating) came to my door. “I like your costume,” one said. “If it IS a costume,” she quickly added. – I wanted to give her the back of my hand for that crack!!! Grudgingly, I gave them both a small handful of candy.

“I’ll take another one of those,” the mouthy one said.

“Another what?” I asked.

She held out her bag.

“Now let me see what I can do,” I replied as I dug deep into my bowl. I pulled out a big jawbreaker. “This is all you’re getting.” I glowered at her.

“No thank you!” she snapped. “I wear braces.”

I should’ve shoved it into her bag and told her to choke on it!

The time was early, around 8:00 PM, but I decided to close shop for good right then! I turned out all the lights, went upstairs and soaked in a bubble bath. Let the kids lean on the bell!!!

The following summer, I got heavy blinds that block out all light. Also I replaced my front door. The one with all that pretty glass is gone. My new one is solid, no one can peek inside. Unfortunately I can’t sound proof my home. However, I solved that problem for Halloween night.

I got ear-plugs and recorded a silent film on TCM (a foreign movie with subtitles also works) I just click mute and I can still follow the story. The kids can't hear my TV, now. Plus I watch TV in the dark, anyway. My house looks vacant from the street.

Last year I found the ideal movie to enjoy! A fictionalized history of witchcraft made in Denmark during the 1920’s. Clearly it was released before the Hollywood Production Code. Raw and racy with nudity, women copulated and cavorted with demons while flocking to become the Devil’s whore. Unbaptized babies were eaten. A Monk was seduced by a witches’ love potion. Graphic torture was featured as well. And most unforgettable of all was a scene with Nuns dancing wildly in lustful hysteria. A demon perched in a corner watching, juts its tongue in-and-out suggestively. I can see why this film had been banned in several cities. It could not have been more perfect for Halloween night!

This year I’ve got several foreign horror films with subtitles all lined up.

Let’s just hope I don’t find a dead rat in my mailbox the following day!

THE THIRD WORLD BECKONS

Ecuador, Costa Rica, Panama, Mexico, Belize, Nicaragua, even Malaysia, India, Thailand, or the Azores are all places I am seriously considering relocating to begin life anew. I am not searching for Shangri-La, only to survive financially.  

Others have given me a long list of reasons why I shouldn’t do this. But I’ve got a long list of my own why I must.

I love my house and my life here in Vero Beach. Unfortunately, I can no longer afford to maintain my beautiful home. My quality of life here is diminishing all the time. I’m constantly forced to cut back on things I enjoy such as eating out and attending live shows.

In 2016 I will turn 65; I know my health is going to decline. Friends say I shouldn’t worry because I take such good care of myself. Well my father did everything right and still suffered serious illnesses. I can’t wait for a stroke, heart attack, or hip replacement to leave, by then it will be too late.

Because of my spotty work record, I’m ineligible for even one dime of Social Security or Medicare.

To become eligible, I'd have to marry a Death Row inmate, one who has little chance of receiving a stay of execution. But I would need to be married at least one year in order to collect his S.S. benefits as a widow. However, the guy would probably want conjugal visits. – Hey, I’m not a prostitute!

Had I married that old Mormon fart when I was 50, he’d probably be dead by now! I’d be financially secure and back living on the water with a maid. But I just couldn’t stand the thought of him touching me!

Also I’ve thought about becoming a Nun. The celibacy part is a piece of cake for me. However, I’m not religious, and the wardrobe is ugly and limited. Plus Nuns don’t just sing and pray. They do lots of hard work helping underprivileged children. Since I hate kids and am allergic to work, this doesn’t fly for me!

So my only option is to immigrate to a Third World country! Otherwise, I’d better plan on dying at 72 just like my mother. Or I’m liable to end up under a bridge eating cat food, especially if I’m forced to do any hospital time.

All of the above countries have thriving expatriate communities, so it’s not as if I’m going to be the only one. However to emigrate, you must have a minimum monthly income. They don’t want homeless people dumped there. I just squeak by in some of these cases. However, once I sell my house it will bump-up my income.

Also it is difficult to get a work visa in these countries, because they don’t want anyone taking jobs away from a local. However, writing is a portable career. The only problem is I’d make more money selling my blood!

My big issue is that I am NOT a computer person. Modern technology may as well be rocket science to me. I have zero aptitude for it! I am forced to pay someone to come over and show me how to do every little thing. Then, I always want to holler, “Go back and explain that in a language I can understand!” There is absolutely no way I can remember all those steps!

After moving to Vero Beach in 1999, I enrolled in a computer class at the local Adult Education Center. The course was fast paced! It didn’t matter whether you kept up. The only thing I actually learned was how to turn my computer on & off. Basically, I was issued a diploma just for showing up.  

I would be happy just to enjoy a quiet retirement and let my writing be a hobby. Unfortunately, when I lost that staggering sum in G.M. Bonds that was rendered impossible, here.

Of course, living in another country will be a big adjustment with all the cultural differences. I’ll have to learn another language. As long as there is no math involved, I think I can hack it!

Also as an animal lover, I don’t know if I could live someplace where the national sport is cockfighting!

Unfortunately, in the Third World they have that “manana attitude”! Manana literally means, “Tomorrow.” In actuality it means, “Whenever I sober up” or “Whenever I damn well feel like it,” which could mean 2 days or 2 weeks from now. This is especially irksome when it comes to service or repairs. That would drive me straight up the walls!!! I’d be so flustered and frustrated I’d show up at their place of business and force a repairman at gunpoint to come and fix my air conditioner or refrigerator. I’d probably end up in a flea & rat infested Third World jail.  

I’ve read that ALL developing countries have that attitude. The natives don’t want to be forced to adhere to a clock or any rules, which is precisely why they will remain Third World.

Worse and most dangerous of all, they refuse to follow necessary traffic rules. To someone who has anxiety attacks and is navigationally impaired, this is particularly terrifying! Crosswalks are even dangerous because natives will drive right thru red lights. And at night some drive without lights! Police look the other way unless an infraction is committed by a foreigner. Then you are expected to slip them a few bucks to avoid a ticket. This leaves a bad taste in my mouth!

However, I will be forced as usual, to think with my wallet. As I age, I need a country where I can actually afford medical care, right along with food and shelter.

Currently, I’m doing lots of research and saving up my money.

ONE of the above countries I am planning to visit in either late 2015 or early 2016. My friends all know which one, more about this later.

I AM NOT CRAZY, JUST DISORDERLY

If you know me at all, you’re aware I juggle a laundry list of mental disorders. Two of them, I didn’t realize even had names until this decade! The ones to which I am referring are Dyscalculia and Synesthesia.

First and foremost, let me make this clear, Asexuality is NOT a disorder any more than Homosexuality, even though some people would like to believe it is! Nymphomania IS a mental disorder and I’m sure glad it’s not one of mine!

This blog is my memoir so I’m hanging it all out there. For your edification, I will attempt to explain the two above.

Dyscalculia is the math version of Dyslexia. To this day, I am unable to figure even simple numbers without having to count on my fingers and toes. Sure, I learned adding & subtracting as well as the multiplication tables in school. And I know for example that 7 plus 5 is 19 and 8 X 6 is 32. -- Hey, that’s close enough as far as I’m concerned.

Another symptom is navigational impairment to an extreme degree. I’ve had appointments and attended events in numerous buildings where I was unable to find my way out! After wandering around aimlessly in confusion, I’d usually find myself in the back or way at the opposite end of the entrance. Whenever I asked for directions all I’d hear was, “Blah, da, blah, that way and turn left, then yada, yada, then another left, yammer-yammer, then go right blather, blather, blather.” – I’d be more confused than ever!

Did I neglect to mention that I get left & right confused? Dyscalculia also involves severe spatial unawareness and depth perception as well.

And people actually wonder why I get anxiety attacks behind the wheel of a car! I didn’t get my Driver’s License until late in life. Had it been my choice, I would NEVER have gotten one at all!

My father used to say, “Dianne has a natural tendency to do things the opposite way with everything!”

Synesthesia is more difficult to talk about, because I always get “The Look.” This disorder is a co-mingling of sounds, smells, colors, & tastes. For example the name Frances spelled either in the masculine or feminine version makes me taste roast turkey with gravy when I say it. With Marie its spice cake, David baked chicken, Ralph beef stew, Linda mint wafers, Mary milk, Rosemary cream, Jane black coffee, Martin peanut butter, Barbara cucumbers, etc.

Also with Synesthesia, numbers have colors, smells, & personalities. For example, 8 is purple, a tad vain, but she is good-hearted, & smells like Spanish perfume. 4 is pink & prissy & smells like laundry detergent. 7 is green, has charisma, is quite conceited, & he smells like spearmint. 9 is charcoal, he is friendly, reliable, helpful, & smells like sweat. 2 is sky blue, snippy & shallow, she smells like fried bananas. 1 is arrogant & controlling; he is bleach white and smells like cheap hair tonic. 3 is golden orange, big-hearted, out-spoken, & with zero tolerance for bullies, she smells like musk & citrus combined.

I’ve only met ONE other person with this condition. It was during the second grade. Our Bible studies teacher (this was the 1950’s) claimed the number 6 was evil, because it's the Devil’s number. Afterward, I told the boy next to me she was wrong, because 6 is sweet and shy, her color is butter yellow, & she smells like honeysuckle.

“YOU are WRONG!” he declared. “6 is brownish, has a filthy mouth, & smells like steamed fish!”

Bitterly, we argued back and forth! If ANY number IS the Devil’s number, it HAS to be 5!!! Its blood red; obnoxious, loud, pushy & smells like insecticide! Trust me, I am right about this!!! 

Always I’ve been highly self-conscious and embarrassed about myself. I HATE having to make conversation, so I just learned to remain tight-lipped. Better this than being labeled crazy. There has never been a time in my life when someone wasn’t trying to glue an ugly label onto me. I didn’t need another! My OCD alone is difficult enough for other people to understand.

As a child, when introduced by my mother, she would add, “Bill & I blame ourselves for the way Dianne is. She wasn’t raised around other children.” Mom always said this in a tone that made me sound like a 6 year old prostitute or drug addict!

My folks should have been proud that I didn’t end up that way. I KNOW I AM! Perhaps they’d rather I turned out like my brother, a paranoid schizophrenic who has been in and out of the psychiatric ward of federal prison! If the option existed, we BOTH would have been sent back for a refund. 

 

FOOTNOTE:  My mother had a bout of her own with paranoid schizophrenia, but that memory will be shared another time.