Friday, July 31, 2009
There are two giant storage cabinets sitting on the corner of my neighbor's yard. You know these things, metal with the two doors and the chrome handle that moves down to open them. They were there yesterday morning. I guess I can use them as a landmark. I'm the second house on the left after the storage cabinets.
There's a bug collection thingee in a neighbor's yard. It was NOT there yesterday. It's bright yellow with a fluted neck that leads to a blue bag. The bug will fly in, probably attracted by pheromones and then not be able to get back out. Wonder if the homeowner put it there or if the city or someone else did. And I'm not sure what they could be searching for. We have had outbreaks of emerald ash borer. I don't think gypsy moth is here. There was talk of a pine beetle, but that hasn't materialized. It seems not the right set up to gauge the abundance of mosquitos.
Betsy probably has a urinary tract or bladder infection. I came home last night to little puddles all over the house. Instead of dining at an Irish pub, I spent 2 hours scrubbing floors and then washing rugs. I put the rugs on the deck rails this morning to dry. It's gorgeous out. So I nipped home at lunch to flip the rugs over to dry the other side. There are garage sales all over the place. I never had much luck finding deals or selling. I have a friend who finds the most amazing things at garage sales. She got a room size wool "oriental" rug for something like $30. It was quite dirty and I think she said the seller was getting rid of it because she didn't want to clean it and was changing the color scheme in her living room anyway. She spent about $40 having it cleaned and the rug was like new. I'd get the rug that looked perfect but had the carpet moths or the dog barf or something hidden in it.
I have more lilies at the other end of the overgrown flower bed. They should bloom tomorrow or Sunday.
Did you know that if you leave the window in your car open and the rain comes straight down it will still get the seat wet and leave a small puddle under the floor mat? I know who's laughing when they read that.
There should be a line at Subway for moms who decide it's a great idea to take their kids and their neighbor's kids to Subway for lunch. Included in this line is a giant hand that cuffs the whiners on the back of the head. 'Nuff said.
Speaking of being cuffed about the back of the head, if I don't take my allergy medication, how do I expect to feel better?
I still have the rest of the bathroom and the kitchen to clean before I can let April and Perry, Jon, and Richard and Lifcha into my house tomorrow night. I know Perry said they are coming to play games and to see me, but...........
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
April has a convention in Lincolnshire and Perry gets to tag along.
On Saturday, Jon, April, Perry, Richard and his wife, Lifcha, will come to my house for games and food or food and games or food and food. I'm excited. I haven't had a reason to cook more than tuna melts. The menu is slated to be hobo suppers, raspberry applesauce salad, cole slaw, potato salad, chips and warm blueberry cobbler with vanilla ice cream. We'll have soda and Perry is bringing bottles of his homemade mead.
I got started on Sunday with chocolate chip orange muffins. I had a bag of mini chocolate chips. The recipe was an old one I had never made and, as I really need a grocery visit, one for which I had all the ingredients on hand. They are good but they need more orange for my tastes.
I also made Fresh Strawberry Muffins. This recipe is, essentially, coarsely chopped strawberries held together with batter. There is a hint of nutmeg in them which makes them so good.
April is allergic to chocolate so I think, once I finish washing the muffin tins tonight, I'll make some Cinnamon Topped Muffins for Saturday.
I love muffins. I love to have lots in the freezer. They make excellent breakfasts and two is plenty to have with your morning juice or milk. And they freeze so well.
Now if someone would answer me this, why is it that when I make muffins, I always get more than the recipe says it makes? I stir just until moistened. The batter is still lumpy. Yet, invariably, the amount of muffin batter can be 1/2 to 2 times greater than what the recipe says it makes. The chocolate chip recipe said it made 18. I got 30. The strawberry one made the dozen listed only because I made sure the cups were filled to the brink.
Technically, I'm not complaining because it means I have more muffins than expressed in the recipe. It's just that on days when I go on a muffin baking binge, I run out of muffin tins before I run out of batter.
MMMMMMMMMMMM. I think couple of warmed muffins with butter would be good tonight.
Monday, July 27, 2009
This is a pretty good representation of what it looks like right now. It's kind of shaggy so it's good that I have an appointment after work to get it cut. You can see the streaks of faded brown dye.
It's starting to get noticeable on the sides now. There were always places that I'd miss when covering my hair with dye. They were often distinctive, almost as if it was a natural affect. Those places missed in the February dye job are, at least to me, visible now as almost completely gray.
My stylist said December we'd have it all gone. In some places, I think it will be next hair cut. This Thursday we get the first paycheck with our COLA in it. I should get something for myself to celebrate the over half-way mark to a completely gray head of hair. Dairy Queen sounds good.
Beverage: Blackberry Tea
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Friday, July 24, 2009
She was clingy yesterday and stayed in the office with me. We napped a couple of times after I got home and she was content to be next to me in the bed. She nibbled at her food but didn't eat as much as she had been. I guess that's to be expected. I sort of roamed the kitchen knowing I needed to eat but unsure exactly what it was I wanted. I eventually made microwave s'mores but that wasn't really what I wanted. I need to clean out the cupboards and make a comprehensive grocery list. It's time to spend another $183 to forget bananas.
This morning, she followed me all over the house, not that she hasn't been doing that already, but the meow was different. Maybe it wasn't a "Don't leave me alone" meow, but, in my current state, that's how it sounds and it breaks my heart. I'm really hoping the boss leaves early as he is want to do on Fridays because I'm going to the grocery for vittles for tonight's Tempest Keep raid and then heading home and I want to leave early.
I know it's because of my state of mind, but I kept hearing noises that sounded like Rascal Wednesday night and yesterday. I kept hearing things like a cat jumping off the windowsill or out of the papsan chair or her meow from the kitchen or the sound of her footfalls in the hall. I still look for Shakespeare to come up from the basement or Penney to come out of my closet or Half-Pint to walk up my body in the morning to stick her face in mine, "Time to get up. It's light out and I don't care that it's 5:24 a.m." But then, I still sort of expect my dad to call to chat and sometimes, I can hear him clear his throat.
Fortunately, my travels are minimal now so the two of us can be middle-aged ladies living together. I hope the budget allows for her blood work that we can stabilize her. Once we both get through the grief, I have a feeling she should be better. There's no competition for affection or food now and she doesn't go outside without me. Although she gets annoyed with my repeated head scratches, she likes the attention. We will get through this.
I do know that I won't have to share my next Domino's pizza with anyone. Rascal adored Domino's and I wound up getting a large to share the meat with the cat. Betsy sniffs, but she's not interested. Oh! I need grenadine. I need real cherry Cokes tonight and chocolate cake.
Beverage: Blackberry tea
Thursday, July 23, 2009
I followed Betsy around for awhile last night. I gave her a small piece of my chicken tenders from Culvers. She nibbled at it but never ate the whole thing. She's never been one for people food, really.
Her routine didn't vary that much from what it's been. She did come back into the office and sit on the floor next to me. I kept getting up to pet her and tell her I loved her until about 9:00 p.m. when she growled at me. It's kind of humorous in that she was telling me, "Okay, okay. Stop already with the petting."
My WoW guild was wonderful. They were all very supportive and concerned. Pam dropped me off and would have stayed, but I knew I had a world of friends to talk to me throughout the evening. And I know, if I need anything, I can call Pam or Jon or Jessie and ask. Bill was phenomenal. Say what you will about people you meet in a game that you may never see in real life, the people who chose to hang around in game with me last night were caring, compassionate people.
I picked up Betsy and we snuggled under the covers. She fell asleep next to me, purring up a storm. I awoke about 4 and she was gone but all she had done was gotten up and moved to down by my feet. When I awoke, she woke up and she let me snuggle with her, falling alseep together, until the radio came on.
She eats as she's always eaten. She did complain a bit when I headed out the door for work this morning, but she's been very silent since I got home last night. I think about the changes in life now. I don't need to keep the back door open because a cat wants to come and go. Betsy's not doing that anymore. I have all these cat toys and a stack of food dishes.
April commented that the momma cat she and Perry adopted still has kittens at the shelter. Would I want them to bring one when they come? I did think of that, but it's way too early for me to consider adding another cat to my household. Betsy's health problems are still there and I need to get her stabilized and in a routine before I even consider adding another cat, especially one with energy. Let's face it, Betsy and I are middle-aged women and we're pretty set in our ways. I don't think it would be good for Betsers to have a kitten at this point.
So, we will be okay, the two of us. I'll go home and cry my eyes out again, hold Betsy and then do some laundry, work on a craft project, do the dishes, wash the kitchen floor. There's lots of stuff I can do when I'm home early. Life goes on.
Beverage: Blackberry Sage
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Monday, July 20, 2009
Certainly I'm going to post some recollections on the history of today. 40 years ago, my family and I watched grainy black and white footage on an equally grainy black and white TV of one man gingerly working his way backwards down a ladder to set foot on the moon. I remember the night, and it was night when this happened, being clear and the moon was visible, although I think it was only a half or three-quarter moon. We watched, mesmerized by what we were seeing, and I remember dad got up to go outside and gaze up at the moon, almost unbelieving that we could get live television feed or that a human left this planet to go to another.
He got out the telescope and aimed it at the orb in the sky, hoping to see, for his own eyes, evidence that the television footage was real. But the small telescope we had, which could make the craters on the moon clear, could not show the small size of a single man on the face.
I remember Walter Cronkite's rapt gaze at his monitors. I remember my mother setting down her ironing to sit on the sofa. I remember lying on my stomach on the floor looking up at the TV. We had it placed on top of the upright piano (which my sister has, incidentally). It was a balmy July night. The day had been warm and sunny but the night was perfect. All you could hear, out in the country, was the sound of the cows and the pigs and the crickets and Neil Armstrong's voice, "Tranquility Base here. The Eagle has landed."
About 15 years ago, Carole, her dad and I went to the Cernan Space Center at Triton College. Eugene Cernan, the last astronaut to walk on the moon, was making an appearance to talk about his adventures. We were members of the Center which has an IMAX Screen. At the time, it was one of two in a 500 mile radius. The other was at the Museum of Science and Industry in Chicago. Cernan had given Triton College money to build the screen and to fund an astronomy program. We saw a lot of movies there for a fraction of the cost of the MS&I. Plus, they had astronomers who gave monthy sky watching programs. I first saw the rings of Saturn via a January program then did.
Cernan talked about the rigors of space flight, how it felt to be headed to the moon, how it felt to know he would be the last man to walk on the surface and other items about space. He opened the floor up for questions and the first question was about colonizing Mars and the political ramifications of that. The room gave a collective sigh, not audible, but there nonetheless. The woman seemed almost to be baiting Cernan. But he gave a gracious, if long winded and obtuse answer.
Then he looked elsewhere for a question. Spotting Carole's hand in the air, he called on her. "What the ground like on the moon?" she asked. Cernan's face lit up and he spoke directly to her. "It's covered with this very fine gray dust," he said. He went on to talk about sinking into the dust and how they were concerned the dust would clog parts. Someone asked how the earth looked from the moon and he remarked how it appeared to be golf ball size and how hard it was to imagine that was home, where his wife, his kids, his dog and his pool were. It was clear he was profoundly affected by his experience. Carole was thrilled that she got to meet a real live astronaut.
So, I look up at the moon and remember doing the same thing 40 years ago. I remember the popcorn dad made. I remember the Pepsi we had, in glass bottles. I remember the crickets chirping and going to bed in awe of what we were able to accomplish as a country.
Beverage: English Breakfast
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Saturday, July 18, 2009
This is the entrance to the lodge at Starved Rock State Park south of Utica, Illinois. The lodge was build in the 1930's as part of the Civilian Conservation Corps which was, itself, a part of the grand Works Progress Administration designed to put people to work in the Great Depression. The Great Lakes Chapter of the International Society of Explosives Engineers had their July meeting here on the 16th.
Friday, July 17, 2009
After that, I drove to a meeting at Starved Rock State Park.
I love July and August purely for the smell away from the city. Oh sure, when Zeke mows the lawn I just sit on the deck and breathe deeply. But you haven't lived until you're driving down a 2 lane road in the country and you take a deep breath. You can smell the corn. You can smell the earth. You can smell the...
my dad always called THAT the smell of money.
But that particular smell is fleeting and you're back to the smells that, to me, remind me that I'm alive. Fresh cut hay. The Mississippi River. A dusty gravel road. Yankee Candle has all these scents but they don't have those and they never will. Are you going to pay $24 for "Dusty Gravel Road"? "Clean Linen" is nice, but it doesn't smell like sun-baked sheets left on the clotheslines over a hot August noon.
I can probably go home in an hour as I have overtime and the one phone call I was waiting for has come in. I have other things to blog about. I made a list while waiting for the remote unit to call in.
Beverage: Dr. Pepper
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Robins generally arrive in my yard between March 8th and March 20th. I didn't see the first robin in my yard this year until mid-April. They like my yard, as do a lot of birds, because of the overgrowth. I don't have that much trouble with the cats preying on birds. We've had a sparrow, 2 starlings, a grackle and one robin brought inside in the 25 years we've had cats at this address. Generally, they go after the vermin.
Robins have a distinctive song. It's loud and once you've figured out which song belongs to a robin, you can pick it out immediately.
They are the first birds to sing with the growing light of the morning. On these lovely summer nights, all the windows I can have open are. In July, these birds will start at 4:15 and no, I am not making this up, 4:15 a.m. to chirp their morning song. Given that the nest is a mere 25 feet off my bedroom window, that makes that bird friggin' loud.
This morning, that chirp was accompanied by the crack boom of an approaching thunderstorm. We had quite the rain from 4:20 to whenever I fell back asleep. And if I get out of bed to remove the screen and shut the window, the cats think I'm up and they think they will be fed. Rascal has been particularly noisy of late and she was very noisy this morning.
So, when I venture out for lunch, I need to take into consideration that I'm very likely to fall asleep at 1:30 p.m. at my desk and I should find something to help keep me awake. What I really need is a full, uninterrupted night's sleep; no cats, no thunderstorms and no robin who thinks the whole world wants to hear him sing.
Beverage: Blackberry Sage tea
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
From the official web site for the program:
How do I know if a dealer is participating in the program?
The law requires dealers to be registered to participate in the program. We will be moving as quickly as possible to register interested dealers as soon as the registration process begins in the near future. As dealers are registered, we will list them on this website. We will continue to update this list during the life of the program. Meanwhile, you may wish to contact dealers in your area to ask whether they plan to participate in the program. The CARS Act requires that dealers be licensed by their respective state for the sale of new automobiles in order for them to participate in the program.
Is there a cap on the price of the vehicle I can buy or lease under the program?
Yes. The manufacturer's suggested retail price cannot exceed $45,000.
Does the program apply if I want to buy a used car?
No. The program does not apply to the purchase of used vehicles.
What is the amount of the credit?
The amount of the credit is $3,500 or $4,500, and generally depends on the type of vehicle you purchase and the difference in fuel economy between the purchased vehicle and the trade-in vehicle. Different requirements apply for work trucks.
In addition to the credit, will I get the full value of my trade-in vehicle?
No. The law requires your trade-in vehicle to be destroyed. Therefore, the value you negotiate with the dealer for your trade-in vehicle is not likely to exceed its scrap value. The law requires the dealer to disclose to you an estimate of the scrap value of your trade-in vehicle.
I don't drive an American car but I would like to trade in my old car for a newer, more fuel efficient one. Is this program only for American cars?
No. You may trade in or buy a domestic or a foreign vehicle.
I just traded in my old car for a new vehicle last month. Will I get some money back?
No. The program does not apply retroactively.
Is the credit subject to being taxed as income to the consumers or dealers that participate in the program?
The CARS Act expressly provides that the credit is not income for the consumer. However, the credit will be considered as income for the dealer.
Can I use the credit in combination with manufacturer rebates or discounts?
The CARS Act requires the dealer to use the credit under the CARS program in addition to any rebates or discounts advertised by the dealer or offered by the new vehicle's manufacturer. The dealer may not use the credit to offset these rebates and discounts.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Essentially, the article says that pain is diminished if one swears. Dr. Richard Stephens, one of the authors of the study says, “Swearing has gotten very bad publicity– it’s a negatively construed thing. But the positive aspect of it is swearing self-regulates our emotions. It can have a beneficial effect.” The commentary states, "...many people find swearing to be incredibly distasteful, regardless of when or why it happens."
I'm one of those for whom swearing is generally not something I do. You can usually tell if I'm angry by what my word choice is.
This view was formulated in a college English class. Sister Celestine Cypress, a formidable nun with a huge knowledge of language, was discussing a short story written by a classmate. I don't remember if the author was endeavoring to write in the vernacular or was just trying to get a rise out of Celly, but he more than peppered the story with invectives. I remember her handing out copies of the article AFTER she had taken her editing pen to it. 90% of the swearing had been removed. We then had a class discussion on the use of language and when cussing and swearing was appropriate. I remember her saying, "If you have to resort to a swear word, your vocabulary is very poor indeed."
This stuck to me like a velcro suit to a carpet. I read. I love the turn of the phrase. I love a good, or depending upon your point of view, bad, pun. Good authors are the ones who can write well, not the ones who sell the most books. At the time of Sister Celly's comment, I was a 20 year-old know-it-all who peppered her speech with the "f" word. I didn't want to be thought of, particularly for an English major, as having a poor vocabulary. Invectives were banished to the dictionary.
And they have, more or less, stayed there. This is not to say the occasional "oh shit" or the even more salty (for me) "goddamn" doesn't escape my mouth. Keep me up all night and then cause me to do something at which I will fail and you'll hear exactly those words I do know. Plus, I work in an industry which provides support services to the construction, demolition and quarrying industries and they have no clue what "invective" means, but they can certainly add "fuck" to the end, middle or beginning of every sentence.
I don't correct. I just don't choose to use. Over the course of my first 2 years of employment, my lack of swearing, even if I dropped something on my foot, caused those I work with to limit what they say around me or to apologize if, in a fit of pique, they called a co-worker an "ass wiping goddamn piece of shit". Look at me, "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to swear around you."
Remember when "shit" was part of George Carlin's "Seven Dirty Words You Can't Say on TV"? Some of those you still can't say. April and I discussed how language has changed, how words once considered verboten don't even register on the ear. She mentioned not being able to read "Of Mice and Men" by John Steinbeck because of the language used. It's integral to the book and you cannot image the characters talking in Queen's English.
But does that make it okay? I'm wrestling with just that question in my WoW guild and this study comes at a particularly prescient time. I have people for whom "shit" and "damn" and "ass" or even "asshole" are as natural a part of their speech as "prescient", "invective" or "construed" are to mine. Does that make me better than them? No. There is a quote and, once again, I can't find it, that says, "I disagree with what you say, but I'll defend to the death your right to say it." That's sort of how I feel. Yet, I don't wish to be subjected to a string of profanity even if that's your modus operandi. My solution in the guild was to create 18 and over chat rooms where anything goes and, if your normal conversation is peppered with "goddamn" you can still use it, just not in the general chat. It's not a perfect solution by any means, isn't this segregating some people, but it will work for the most part.
As language evolves and what was once offensive becomes less so, I do hope there are still controls on just what constitutes civilized speech in public places. I do not want to walk into the grocery and hear Eunice yell across the produce section, "Howard! Pick up some motherfucking corn, will you?" Some things just shouldn't be said.
Beverage: Dr. Pepper
Last Friday, he posted "Looks like neither of our cars will qualify for the "cash for clunkers" federal incentive. Not clunkified and gas guzzelish enough." This is a straight enough comment except that I read "cars" as "cats". Reread the sentence substituting "cats" for "cars" and you can see my confusion.
First of all, Perry and April love cats. They just lost Jenny last month and have adopted Carly in her place. They have Clark, the almost wonder cat, not quite as fast as a speeding bullet. Why would they trade in their cats? And just what kind of lame deal would you get for trading in a cat? To reference an earlier post, you certainly wouldn't get the contents behind curtain number 3.
Secondly, I am generally aware of what's going on in the world, in terms of news, and although I'd heard of the "Cash for Clunkers" program, I didn't think it involved cats.
But, I'm dyslexic. Generally, it involves numbers. I talked about my mild dyslexia back in June. Sometimes, it involves words, particularly words that are very close in spelling, hence the "cats" for "cars" program.
I don't know that I'm ever going to see this "Cash for Clunkers" as what it really is. It's always going to be the program where you turn in cats to get different cats.
Beverage: English Teatime
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Friday, July 10, 2009
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Orders go quickly down the line. Even with the guy wanting his sub toasted, Subway employees pride themselves on getting you in and getting you out with minimal wait time. The guy whips out his wallet, locates his debit card and is finished paying in less time than it takes for me to type this sentence. The woman opens her purse and...
If you are a certain age, you remember Monty Hall and "Let's Make a Deal". People dressed outrageously for a chance to receive prizes. You could trade the proverbial "bird in hand" for what was inside a large box on the stage or for what was behind one of three doors/curtains. Sometimes you got something fantastic, like a complete set of kitchen appliances. Sometimes you got the goat, the real thing. I do believe there were consolation prizes for those getting 15 pounds of composted cow manure, but the whole appeal of the show was who would trade the brand new bedroom set for a 33.3% chance at getting a new car, a trip or a mule. Sometimes, that mule turned out to be an all expense paid trip to Yellowstone, for instance. More often than not, it was a mule.
One of the schticks was to point at a woman and ask if she had three very disconnected items in a handbag. Women used to show up with these almost suitcases bulging with a variety of items in the hope they would be chosen and could then produce the title of this post. As the woman in front of me dug deep into her purse for her wallet, she pulled out, in order, a scarf (looked to be silk or silk-like), a package of dental floss, two packages of tic tacs, one child's light blue Croc shoe, 3 pacifiers including one that looked like the dog had enjoyed it, and the top off a sippy cup. Yes, although most of my life consists of trying to remember why I walked into this particular room, I was astounded that she pulled these items out of her purse and set them on the counter, so I made a mental note that this was, most definately, a blog post.
The errant wallet was under these things. The corners of bills stick out of this wallet, along with sales receipts. She opens it up and a small stack of papers slide out of the wallet and into her purse. She is now fully aware that there are 3 people stuck behind her and this makes her nervous and embarrassed. She picks through the money to get exact change but finding the change part of the wallet empty, she says, "Um, just a sec. I know I have the 53 cents in the bottom of the bag."
I didn't say a thing. I don't think anyone said a thing. But I do believe the universe sighed at the thought of her spending more of our lives rummaging in that bag of holding for 53 cents. I heard the guy behind me fumble in his pants pocket, the jingle of coins clearly audible. Instead, she handed the clerk $10 and started shoving everything back into this purse.
It must be a hold over from ancient times when women had to take the children everywhere with them because men didn't handle child rearing duties. We were not coming back to the hovel any time soon and therefore, needed to take whatever we might need with us. The advent of bags just made carting everything easier.
I used to be a "bag mom". I used to look upon outings as if they were trips to northern Canada where only polar bears and not McDonalds would be. Hence you needed to take anything and everything your child could possibly want in the event she aged 3 years in the 2 hours you were slated to be gone. I took great pride in being resourceful and planning ahead. I was the woman in front of me.
Now days, if I could pare down what I carry, I would. I looked at my purse when I got back to the office. I don't NEED half of what I carry, but there is a security in having it. Carole teased me during my Puyallup visit in May that I was still using the purse I bought 3 years ago. I don't see any reason to change right now. It works. I know where everything is.
I will take what's behind Door #1 but all I can offer is a tea bag, an unused nail file and 4 cherry flavored Ricola cough drops.
Beverage: Coke/Rootbeer mix
I stayed up too late on Tuesday evening talking via my computer with my daughter and with a WoW friend I had not seen in several weeks. Brian is, like my WoW friend Bill, a confidante. Both are pragmatic and have very good insights into the human condition. I have often leaned on them for advice in dealing with the humans who manipulate the pixels that form the characters that congregate in my World of Warcraft guild. Brian's been very busy at work and just has not had time to play. So, when he logged onto the game, one of the first things he did was ask if we could chat later.
And with my daughter playing a character in my guild, I have the chance to stay more connected with her and her life. This situation doesn't lend itself to going to bed at 11:30 p.m.
I called the date to say I was leaving my house. He inquired about my day and I yawned. I admitted I was tired. He suggested we just get together for dinner. I heartily agreed. Although seeing a movie is a nice idea, I prefer to talk to the guy first and decide if he's worth seeing again. We met at the Outback Steak House in Wheaton.
I've never been to Outback, anywhere. It's good food, cooked well, nice selection, very attentive service. They had Key Lime Pie and were happy to give me a side of hot fudge to drizzle over it. (Pam is laughing.) They have a huge warm pecan brownie dessert that's topped with ice cream, whipped cream and hot fudge, but I wanted Key Lime Pie so I didn't get the brownie.
He's made it clear in all our phone conversations that he's a recovering alcoholic and I felt ordering a drink would be in poor taste, so I had tea, lots and lots of tea. He talked and he talked. I finished my appetizer, my meal and my dessert a full 15 minutes before him. I'm sure the steak he ordered was cold by the time he finished it.
My perception? Well, if it goes anywhere, it's merely a friendship. I know I have excess baggage accumulated from a life of hard knocks. He's got trunks. For every comment, there was one a step grander. As a for instance, I mentioned my liking Highland Games. He proceeded to tell me about them. Incredulous doesn't quite cover it.
He appears to be a gregarious person. He knows so many people and has relatives and friends in all sorts of places. For every place that I've been in my life, he's been two or three more places. For every incident I would relate, he had one that was more. There was never a lack for conversation but the conversation didn't seem to include me.
Some of the people in my World of Warcraft guild, who knew I had a date last night, said he might be nervous and so talks over much to hide that nervousness. I think he just likes to talk. He's overly confident that his opinions are correct. I never expressed an opinion in the course of the evening because it seemed certain he either wouldn't hear it or wouldn't allow it to stand.
We left the evening that I will call him. Next week is shaping up to be quite a week for me and, with his work schedule being nights and weekends, any getting together is only going to involve dinner and a movie.
A year ago, I was friends with a guy (met via the service) and that was all we did. He called pretty much every 2 weeks from Mother's Day to Labor Day and we got together for dinner. He did come to the Highland Games last year and we spent an hour listening to the music in the entertainment tent. He made some suggestions about other things we could do. In the Chicagoland area, you can find free entertainment, via local band concerts or festivals, every weekend and we were going to do some of those things. I was excited. I couldn't see a romance with the guy, but I could see a friendship. But we never did anything he suggested other than dinner and he drifted away around Labor Day. Going out to eat or going out to a movie for every date is just not my cuppa.
I came home, poured myself a small glass of wine, and logged onto the computer. A few guild mates and my daughter were online so we talked. While I did enjoy the man's company, I found myself rehashing the things this guy said that bothered me. I should be thinking about the things that are right, not the things that are wrong.
The service has already sent me another name. Maybe they knew they did not make a good match. I need to call this new guy and make arrangements to meet for lunch. I'm not optimistic but I take the tact that these kinds of things get me out of the house. That's not necessarily a bad thing.
Beverage: Huckleberry tea