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Saturday, February 21, 2015

TIS A MYSTERY


After I decide upon a country in which to expatriate, I don’t want to drag a lot of things with me. I’m sure the shipping costs will be high; so I’m selling as much as possible. Besides, I’ll need the money to help finance my new life.

I’ve already sold everything of real value to pay for repairs to my house. However, it has gotten to the point that I can no longer keep up. If I brought in another person to share my living space and expenses, I could probably stay. But given that choice, I’d rather move.

When my friend Margaret used to visit, she was a delight for about 3 days. After that, I wanted her gone and she wanted to leave.

Recently, I gathered up surplus clothes (all classic styles) and took them to a consignment shop.

Everything was rejected! They only accepted designer labels; NOT Sears, Metrostyle, or J.C. Penny! – The only time I’ve ever worn designer clothes is when purchased at a Thrift Store. And that was before they started charging extra for those.

These were beautiful things, all in perfect condition! I’ve always been fussy about what I wear. Strangers of all ages often stop to compliment my style and inquire where I shop.

Everything had been neatly folded inside a huge cardboard box, it was humiliating to see it tossed back like trash after being rejected.

Also inside was a pair of earrings in a blue, cloth-covered box. These were given to me 30 some years ago from a friend who took a job in another state. Someone brought them back for her from Beirut, only she never wore earrings. I thanked her and accepted them, although they were not my taste. So they remained in the back of a drawer for several decades. 

The lady at the consignment place took a special interest in these. They were probably worth something, she said. However, they couldn’t start an account for just one item.

So I took my big, cumbersome box out to the car and locked it. I had spent most of the morning at the courthouse applying for a new passport. I was dressed in a tailored jacket & skirt that day.

Earlier, I’d eaten little breakfast, I was hungry. So I went inside the French bakery/cafe next door. While I was placing my order a man came in. I heard him leave as I seated myself.

The clerk came to my table. “Did you know that man?” he asked.

My mouth full of food, I shook my head.

“He was staring at you the entire time. When I asked if I could be of service, he became uncomfortable and left.” Then added, “Be careful when you leave, there are weirdos out there.”

Thankfully, no suspicious characters were loitering about when I left.

The following afternoon, I remembered the items in my car. I went into my (enclosed) garage and brought the box inside, just to remove those earrings. Well they were gone!!! I tore that box apart searching for them.

I phoned the consignment shop to inquire if I’d left them behind. The lady remembered me and my items. She insisted she put them back inside the big cardboard box. -- I don’t remember seeing her do it, but then I wasn’t watching her that closely. I haven’t always been a good judge of character, but she didn’t come across as the type who would steal.

Now I wonder about that man! Perhaps they fell while I was lugging that big box out to my car. Maybe he picked them up and followed me to return them, but changed his mind.

All I know for sure is that the earrings have vanished!!!

Saturday, February 14, 2015

MY FIRST DATE EVER


I was 40 years old when I had my first date. No, this is not about when I tasted the fruit. I’m more of a mango gal, anyway. I was age 40 when I went out on a date for the first time.

That’s right I said 40! And it was just a movie & dinner only, no sex stuff! Even in 2015 most people can’t wrap their mind around an asexual. It’s tantamount to saying you’re from Pluto! Just imagine what it was like in past decades.

Because it’s Valentine’s Day, I’m taking another sprint down memory lane. This is blog is equal parts therapy and memoir, so I’m hanging it all out there.

I don’t watch romantic films or read bodice ripping romance novels. I’ve tried, but I’ve never found them interesting.

For years, I thought surely I must be gay. Yet, at the same time I knew I wasn’t.

During my youth and travels abroad, I was hit on by guys who tried to pick me up. But I refused to be picked up like garbage. It didn’t take a gypsy witch to see their intentions were less than honorable. Plus I never considered dating important.

Those who do, come across as emotionally needy to me. What is it with you people, do you think you’re going to wither up and die unless someone loves you? Why does your value as a human being depend on someone else?

I doubt I was ever loved by anyone my entire life! Except perhaps my dogs & cats, and that was only because I fed them and gave them belly & butt rubs. Lord knows, my parents weren’t into unconditional love. And I know brother is waiting for me to keel over, so he can have unfettered access to his Trust. Perhaps this is a good thing; I learned early that I don’t need someone to validate me in order to be happy.

If you still can’t fathom an asexual, just think of me as gay or frigid as most people do, whatever! I don’t care!

Back to 1991, my date was a double arranged by a neighbor couple of similar age. I agreed to it because I wanted a diversion from my step-mother’s madness for just one evening.

They said he was good-looking and probably told him likewise about me. In my case, they weren’t lying! We both were introverts. It’s a mistake to set up two people of that nature. Worse, he had that compulsion (common in most men) to undermine the woman. Whenever he spoke to me, I was usually cut down in underhanded ways. I wasn’t having it! He was just another goony guy to me. I began directing my focus upon the other couple.

After the movie, we went to an upscale restaurant and were seated on the back deck overlooking the ocean. This March night was comfortably cool. The brilliant full moon appeared huge above the crashing waves below. This beautiful evening would have been a wonderful memory had this fellow had not been along.

The following day, I phoned the couple to thank them. -- My date happened to be there in the room! They asked if I wanted to speak to him. I told them, I did not.

Seriously, I never expected or cared to go on another date for the rest of my life!!!

A year later, I met a man at a party down the river. He was the first of two men who picked me to be his next wife the second after we met. We dated for several months. He even sent me roses on Valentine’s Day. However, I wanted nothing beyond a friendship. You can’t force feelings you don’t have and I wasn’t going to pretend.

The couple who took me on my first date separated two years afterward. (Later they divorced.) After their separation, the husband phoned me for a date. The first time, I refused! After learning that his wife had moved on, I agreed. We went on ONE date and that was enough!

When I hit my 50’s, there were more dates and even a few boyfriends. All of those relationships felt forced and quickly became suffocating. I was living behind a mask and it was draining. When they ended, suddenly I was happier! I was set free!

NEVER have I felt that way around my close female friends! One of them suggested I place an ad in the personals to find a man compatible.

I wanted to specify in the advertisement that I was looking an impotent man, only! She said no guy would ever want to admit to that. I told her I couldn’t understand why, because if I was a man it wouldn’t bother me. Then she talked me out of placing the ad.

Now that I’m finally out as asexual, I am finished with dating, forever! Now I am free to embrace being myself, at long last.

Sunday, February 1, 2015

THE TELEPHONE MOAN & GROAN


If you dislike crabbing, bitching, and whining from an old woman, STOP READING RIGHT NOW!!!

I have a land-line, only. Any day the phone doesn’t ring I consider a rare special one. Sometimes unknown callers phone me 7 times a day and into the evening. Someone always seems desperate to reach me, yet never enough to leave a message on my answering machine.

Most of these unknown callers are shady, anyway. Why else would they conceal their number from me?

I remember well one call I received. Some woman informed me that according to their records, I qualified for a lower mortgage rate. “What records?” I replied. My house never had a mortgage! It was purchased outright.

After seeing the movie WOLF OF WALLSTREET, I remembered another call back in the 80’s. My father received it from one of the wolf’s toads, perhaps even the main turd, himself. Dad was on the phone for what seemed 45 minutes repeatedly stating, “No, I’m really don’t care to do that!” Afterward, he complained, “I couldn’t get rid of that guy! He kept insisting this was an investment that I couldn’t pass up. I must beg, borrow, or steal, whatever it took to jump on this!”

“Why didn’t you just hang up?” I asked.

“I didn’t want to be rude,” he replied.

I guess I am NOT a nice person! I have no compunction about slamming the receiver into a telemarketer’s ear! – THEY ARE RUDE for invading my personal space and wasting my time. I am a firm believer in boundaries!

On occasion, I would have fun with them. Whenever someone asked for Mrs. Lininger, I’d reply in my meekest voice, “Did you say MRS. Lininger?” Usually, I’d get a condescending, “Yes, I said MRS. Lininger!” Then I’d cackle my most evil laugh, followed by, ”Get a Ouija board or crystal ball! Both MRS. Liningers have been maggot meat for years!"

Nowadays, I just let my answering machine take all the calls because my friends usually email.

Once, I actually got a message from my dead father!!! I recognized his voice, all he said was, “Hi Dianne.” I listened to it over and over. (It was disturbing.) Eventually, I decided to erase it. I’ve moved on with my life.

A few months back, I lost my connection again. I became suspicious when my home suddenly became more serene. The phone was dead, period! I tried to report it to ATT online, but went around in circles without success.

I was forced to bother a neighbor. All she had was a cell phone. The lady walked back with me in the event of over-the-phone instructions.

Our neighborhood has terrible cell reception! We had to scout my back yard in search of the perfect spot to get a signal. -- This did not make me want to run out and purchase a cell phone anytime soon! Geez, I don’t want to run out back every time I need to make a call! This is NOT progress, it’s a step backward.

I’ve often wondered why the neighbor kitty-corner from me always stands at the end of his driveway talking on his phone. Now I know! That is so sad.

Eventually, we got a signal. She told me to remember that particular spot between the Oleander & the palm tree.

The menu came up; press this, press that, followed by a seemingly endless wait. After what seemed an eternity, I was transferred to Connecticut; a live person informed me that ATT did not service land-lines in that state.

I stated that I lived in FLORIDA!!! My neighbor interrupted to remind me that she & her husband were snowbirds from Connecticut. -- But I’d given ATT my account number early on!

Now it was back to the starting gate and the entire lengthy drawn-out process. I stated immediately that I was using my neighbor’s phone because mine was kaput. -- And still I kept ending up in Connecticut!!! My neighbor even tried with the same result.

After an entire wasted morning, finally success! A repairman was sent out within an hour. He was the indoor guy. Shortly after, the outdoor repairman showed up. After he finished, he told me to check my phone. – It was full of static. The first guy was called for further instructions.

Before he left, I inquired as to why I was almost forced to jump thru flaming hoops, just to report a problem. He said that was their number 1 complaint. However, he assured I wouldn’t have to experience that in the future. He wrote down his number and that of the previous repairman. “We’re local,” he said.

Fast forward a month, the static returned! It was so bad, the other party and I could barely hear one another. I phoned both repairmen, neither returned my calls!!!

For my upcoming exploratory trips to Ecuador & Thailand, friends have suggested I get a pre-paid cell phone with a camera, instead of dragging along several disposable cameras as I had planned. I might break-down and do that. Ugh! We’ll see.