RIP, Psychologist

So I attended the funeral of my therapist yesterday/Friday afternoon.

It was raining all day -- not the ideal weather conditions to travel to a church and then attend the post-funeral reception, but it was the appropriate mood.  I didn't know anyone there except his secretary, but I was allowed to just stand and pace and look around in the church and wait for the ceremony to begin.

Nice-looking church.  Churches are always nice looking.  I'm not Catholic, but some of the psalms and beats and call-and-responses were actually familiar to me.  Then I remembered that I attended the funeral of my sister's best friend's mother back in December.  She too was Catholic, so I remembered what I had seen yesterday from back in December.  And then it dawned on me that I've been to two funerals within the past 12 months, and that I may be going to a lot more as I get older.

I will never know what to say, or how to behave, at a celebration of life memorial.  I mean, what can you say?

I saw the family march out in the steady rain to bury him.  It was not my place to accompany them, so I drove to his son's townhouse for the reception, then waited about a half-hour to make sure I saw people park and go to what I hoped was the right address.  (In the meantime I fell asleep, or at least tried to; a couple of times, as I was about to doze off, I could feel my Adam's apple press up against my collar and tie, and I felt this fear that I was drowning shoot up inside me, and I woke up again.  Wearing a collar and tie will always feel like I'm choking myself.)

Feels tacky to say this, but I will: The son has a nice place.  For a townhome whose driveway they split with another family, it's really spacious.  The food was decked out in what looked like a small indoor racquetball court.  I could totally see a family live here.  Heck, with the downstairs wet bar, I could see myself living here, even though it might be a big too spacious for just myself.  There, I did what a person who was not the deceased's immediate circle would do: Eat and keep to myself.  Eventually the daughter-in-law introduced myself, and that was nice to not feel like a total stranger.  I wanted to shake hands with her husband, the son, but on my way out (I didn't want to stay too long) I did what I thought was the absolutely necessary thing to do and give my condolences to my therapist's wife, the widow.  I remember a couple times calling him  where she picked up and handed the phone to him.  She said she knows who I was and remembers him raving about me.  I can't imagine being one of the people he remembers so fondly, but that's nice to know.

---

Seeing a man so loved made me tear up a little at the church.  It is jarring to see his two sons break down as they memorialized him.  And it is sad to watch, but it's a testament that he was so loved and valued, and what more can you want from a life?  I only know him from our relationship, but it was at the church where I saw how many friends he made, and how many lives he touched.  He was a hell of a guy who did a whole bunch of nice things, for his family and his professional community.  And his patients too, like me.

I have friends, but I don't confide in them like I did with my psychotherapist.  There are things I've told him I haven't told my family.  It's mostly my fears and sexual urges, and frankly, those are things I am not completely certain I can tell my friends, and definitely not my family.  (Sidetrack: Those things, especially my sexual urges, I would totally tell my stripper girlfriends.  But nearly all of them do not seem to want that level of emotional intimacy I am ready to give them at the drop of a hat.  That favoritism is something I think I told my shrink.)  And through all my rants and paranoia and erotic fantasies and violent ideations, for the 10-5 years I had known him, he just ... listened.  And that's what I miss about him the most.  He was a sounding board, someone I could not only talk to but talk at, and he just listened to me without judgement.  That isn't a healthy relationship, but that is definitely what my damaged, damned soul needed, to be listened to without judgement.  OK, so his advice the past several times we spoke over the phone were strange and not productive.  But that doesn't take away the fact that over the years he was someone I could talk to, and he helped, and tried to help, me when I needed someone to speak to in private.  I don't know if I can find another one like him again.

RIP, sir.

And That Busy Week Has Gotten A Bit More Complicated

How?  First of all, I didn't think I would be so swamped with goddamn work in The Fourth Department like I did.  Don't know why or how -- and I never do -- but there was work waiting for me in the morning, then more came during the morning, and a little more in the afternoon, and I had to leave for Pizza Hut and Monday Night Football after ten hours.  I had to give myself a limit because not only was I determined to watch the football Game (which I was late for; I thought I put in the Pizza Hut order overnight, but apparently the order didn't go through, so I had to order it there and wait 15 minutes), but I was fucking pissed off at all the goddamn work that blindsided me that ten hours was my limit before I was going to go postal.  I did all the work I absolutely had to do.  But had I done all the work I usually do to wrap up my day, I might have been there another damn two hours.

So I know what I'll be working on once I get in this/Tuesday morning.  And this is why I always try to stay late to get any work done -- if I leave it till the morning, I might put myself behind the 8-ball if there is an avalanche of work that comes in the morning.  That could have a cascading effect whereby I would be leaving even more work.  I don't work tomorrow/Wednesday, so technically it won't be my problem, but it will be my co-worker's, and I can't speak for them, but I am usually pissed as hell if I had a shit ton of work that was left for me.  Saying that ... I am racking up the hours.  If this workload keeps up this week, I would be getting overtime pay ... but I'm not working tomorrow/Wednesday.  Which makes me think I should pull back my paid time off and work.  I have arranged to fuck ****e that afternoon, and I plan on seeing a movie after that, but I can reschedule those.  I don't know how big work is going to be, but I feel confident I'll be staying as late today/Tuesday as I did yesterday/Monday, so a little bit of OT for working all five days would be guaranteed, and I'm a slave to capitalism.

But then last/Tuesday night I got the word: My psychiatrist passed away.  His memorial service and funeral will be Friday afternoon.  Frankly, I don't know if a patient of a psychiatrist should attend his memorial and funeral.  It feels like an invasion of privacy, as if I'm crossing a boundary and infiltrating the sacred, vulnerable space of those closest to him.  Although I poured my heart out to him, I can't say we're friends, so I wonder if going is a bit exploitive.  On the other hand, this will be the last time I get to see him.  Also, his secretary was the one who texted me the news about his death and funeral arrangements, and I think that she wouldn't divulge the details if patients weren't invited.  Finally, it's relatively close to work, and I think I can take off half a day, and start my weekend early, to go to a funeral service, even though it looks like a total washout outside.

I really feel like this is important to go to.  But assuming I can attend the funeral service, that'll be, like, four hours of paid time off I will be giving up.  That's on top of the eight I'm using tomorrow/Wednesday.  That's a lot, and even though I need to make sure I use up enough by the end of the year to get below a threshold above which I would just be giving hours away, I don't want to use so much this year.  So if I work tomorrow/Wednesday instead, I would get myself closer to the 40-hour mark above which I will get time-and-a-half.  There's no chance to get OT pay if I take 1 1/2 days off, obviously.  So, maybe I should do it?  On the other hand, my therapist's death is a reminder that you have only so many days on this side of the dirt, so maybe I shouldn't sweat getting just below the maximum number of hours before the New Year and instead take off when I want and watch what I want and fuck who I want.

Nah.  I'll wait until I see how I feel at work today/Wednesday.  I am so wishy-washy.

Got a call a few hours ago that my psychotherapist, whom I had seen for upwards of a decade, is in hospice.  The Parkinson's finally got to him, goddammit.  His secretary called me; she said his wife told her he has a few days at most, and he will not be taking visitors.  But she will do her best to call me again when, well, it happens.  I hope I will be able to go to his memorial service.

I feel bad I have been going on with my life and temporarily forgetting what is happening to him in the hours since I heard the news.  Life -- it never ends well.

Addendum To: Where The Fuck Is She?

So I texted ****e* around 2.  She texted around 2:15 she'll be there in half an hour.  She suggested I leave with the door unlocked so she can just go in and start cleaning.  I thought about that, especially when she said she was taking at shit at a quarter to 3, but I decided to wait because she lives about 40 minutes away.

But then it's 3:30, and I haven't seen her and I haven't heard from her.  I asked for an ETA.  She says she's 27 minutes away.  So at 3:45 I really did say fuck this, shut the door but kept it unlocked, and just fuckin' left for Clear Lake.  ****e* said she would've gotten there earlier if she had known I was going down to Iowa, but I thought I made that clear when she initially postponed on Thursday.

Whatever.  I checked in with her at a gas station at 4:15.  I said my piece about the mix-up and that was that.  ****e* said she got there at 4.  Going to the The Day The Music Died Memorial took a lot longer than I thought, three hours as opposed to two.  And I don't like gravel roads, and I hated the humidity while I walked from the parking lot to the gravesite.  But I got there, a shrine embedded right in the middle of a cornfield.  Wish I could've stayed longer, but it was hot and it was getting late.

The nearest gas station to the memorial had 88 gas for $2.78-9/gal., 12-3 cents cheaper than I can get it here.  Still had to gas up before dropping off the rental (and by the way, I wanted to pre-pay so I could send the car back as close to the full line without going over, so I could save myself some money.  But six bucks brought me up short, goddammit, so I had to put my credit card to make sure it did go past the full line).  Anyway, after eating at Taco Bell and freaking out because one of the water leak pucks went off, I finally got home to see ****e* cleaning away.  (I think a hose in the boiler room overflowed because she was using hot water to wash out the kitchen sink.  Is that normal?)  And, per usual, she left everything spotless.  There were marks in the upstairs toilet I couldn't rub out, but she did.  Finally, she let me touch and even bite into her new tits.  She stopped me when I dropped my pants to start touching myself to her, though.  Oh, well.  Can't win them all.  And she's one hell of a cleaning lady, so I will once again tolerate her aloofness and tardiness next time.

Making My Schedule Based On Time, Money, Car Vibes, And Semen

Fitting my schedule to accommodate chores, outings, and time with my stripper girlfriends have just overwhelmed me.  I need to budget my time, I need to make sure I have enough money to do everything I want to do, I'm getting kind of freaked out over driving everywhere because of the obscene price of gasoline, and, most important of all, I need to make sure I'm able to cum on demand.

It's the stripper girlfriends where all of this comes to a head (in a manner of speaking).  I wanted to get with ****e for the longest time, and I thought last weekend was it, but she didn't answer my texts in a timely manner.  Finally, last weekend she said that this weekend was good.  After some back-and-forth, I am supposed to see her tomorrow/Sunday.  Then, ***e* blindsided me by telling me she was in town this weekend and wants to cum visit.  Not a great time, but I slotted her in for this/Saturday morning.  I don't know if my penis can perform back-to-back, but consider ***e* is only here this weekend and I already promised ****e, I kind of have to turn back the clock.

On top of all that, I've been going back-and-forth with my ATF regarding a massage.  I thought Monday would work, but when I texted her that I would be home Monday, my goddamn cellphone auto-corrected it to I would be gone Monday.  I caught it last/Friday night and said that I could be available after the weekend, and she apparently agreed.  Phew!  (By the way, if my ATF surprises me by doing something freaky, it won't matter that I shot the day before.  I know that, even in my advanced age, surprising trysts with women for the first time will have me ejaculating left and right!)

Now, beyond having fun (which seems kind of forced right now), I have things I need to do -- stuff like getting a shave, replenishing my alcohol, and seeing my junior prom date at the cemetery.  But before all that, I have stuff around the house I need to do -- stuff like getting my irrigation system up and running and, more importantly, cleaning my outdoor condenser unit.  Summer jumped me this week, and even though I partly am backing off on turning on the air conditioner because I don't want to spend money (being the primary caretaker of a house now turns you into a miser, believe me), I think it's high time I clean the outdoor condenser.  After all, my ATF should be giving me a rubdown on Monday, and I want her to be as comfortable as possible.  Running a fan won't be enough to cool her down, and besides, I want to close the windows in case she touches me to the point where I start screaming.

But I've never done it before.  I've looked through the YouTube videos, and I know I should clean out the debris that's inside it, then use a cleaner to clean the coils from the inside out, then use a hose to rinse it from the inside out.  But, they suggest I cut the power.  And even though I have turned off both the thermostat and the AC, I have no idea how to cut off power from the circuit breaker right next to the condenser unit.  I open up the cover and all I see is a metal loop.  What the hell is that?  Oh, well.  I think I am going to try and clean everything after I just turn off the AC and thermostat.

Oh, wait ... I can't hose the unit down after I clean everything because I haven't connected the water yet.  And I can't do that until I screw the nut into the, um, thingy that was pulled out in the fall in order to winterize our irrigation system.  I tried screwing it by hand, but I can't screw it in tight, so some time this/Saturday afternoon I am going to get a wrench and twist it in.  Then, I can use the water, and then I can begin cleaning the condenser because I can then rinse it.  Will I get this all done in one afternoon?  Who knows?  I might screw up, or hesitate at a step and decide screw it, I'll just turn the whole AC on.  I'm keeping my options open.

How does driving fit into this?  Shaving involves me driving in one direction, shopping for alcohol and visiting my deceased prom date means I need to drive in the other.  I do not want to drive both directions this/Saturday afternoon, especially if I need to do this thing with the condenser and irrigation system.  Since I'm seeing a friend next week, I think I'll get my shave and do everything else next weekend.  I think.  I'm keeping my options open!

Yeah, I'm busy.  And I haven't even mentioned sleep.  I want to budget one day where I can sleep in.  But I have to get up at a certain time to make sure I go out to the bank to get money today/Saturday to pay ***e*, and then I have to wake up at a certain time tomorrow/Sunday to drive over to ****e's place because she asked me to.  I won't like being woken up by an alarm up to a dozen days in a row (through next Saturday, when I'm supposed to meet this long-lost friend for which I'm getting my face shaved).

Gosh, I'm dealing with a lot of moving pieces I need to fit over the next two weeks -- and that's just for now, who knows what else is coming down the pike.  I know it's not serious in the big picture, but right now it feels serious to me.

You know, the big drawback to going out all these days is my disincentive to brush my teeth.  Sure, I have plenty of time after I get home to do that, but I'm tired and there are other things I need to do.  For example, I got home from gorging myself at the Kickoff To Summer At The (Minnesota State) Fair, and I had to buy chocolates online, then I had to watch intently the last episode of The Late Show With Stephen Colbert, and then I had to blog post, so now I'm too tired and I have to go to bed!  When will I ever have the time to brush my teeth?

The Impending Death Of Zynga Poker

Some time last week, Zynga Poker announced that they were shutting down around September.  They said Facebook/Meta no longer would support their ... coding infrastructure, or something.  Features within the game, like the slot machine, apparently are going to be done away with sooner than that.

This is like when they (and I'm not sure if Zynga is going to continue Poker somewhere else, although I think that's possible) killed off Mafia Wars.  I was sad, and I guess I'm still a bit bummed, but that was almost a decade ago, and I've been able to cope.  Same here.  And, like with Mafia Wars, even though I enjoy playing it, there are mechanisms within the game designed to keep you hooked, and eventually those things felt more like obligations because you were afraid of what you would lose or miss out on if you didn't play every day.  That will be taken out of my hands come September, so I will deal with the mixed feelings I'll feel then.

RIP, Taco Bell Near Me

So two weeks ago, after seeing my alma mater fall to South Carolina in the NCAA Women's Basketball Tournament, I drove home.  Sometimes I take a path home that takes me past the closest gas station to my home.  Can't complain about the gas station.  It has a Taco Bell there that I go to all the time.

Well, had.  I think it was the weekend where I actually went to this gas station because I wanted to get some Taco Bell.  And it shocked the shit out of me when I saw one of those industrial-sized dumpsters.  I then noticed that all the Taco Bell signage is gone, completely.

This was coming.  The gas station was a Holiday, but several years ago (I don't know exactly how many), it was sold to Casey's Retail Company, so the Holiday became a Casey's.  They are well known for making and selling their own food under their own Casey's brand.  But even after the changeover and makeover, the Taco Bell was still operating in the left half of the building housing the now Casey's.

I heard the story of how this happened shortly after the changeover when I grabbed some Taco Bell by eavesdropping on a conversation between a Taco Bell worker and a customer who may have been his or her friend.  Taco Bell had a lease for this location.  When Holiday Stationstores or Couche-Tard, the company that acquired Holiday Stationstores, sold this particular gas station to Casey's, they did so on the condition that Taco Bell would be able to stay through the life of its lease.  The Taco Bell employee did not know how long that lease lasted, however.  Well, I guess that lease ran out two weeks ago.

This closing seemed fast.  I got home late that Monday, and Taco Bell drive-thrus are usually open late every night.  So I want to think that late Monday night (technically Tuesday morning) was the very last day they were open.  Casey's then shut everything down and cleaned out the entire Taco Bell (including appliances and tables -- seriously, I went into the gas station yesterday/Sunday and there's absolutely nothing there).  I absolutely marvel at how fast they emptied the place of any and all Taco Bell life.  But they can also completely replace that space with Casey's restaurant just as fast, at least I am convinced they could, and it's been completely empty for two weeks.

Is there something wrong?  I would think that Casey's was biding its time before the lease ended so they could then sweep in, clean house, and put up their own signage and equipment.  So, where are the tables and chairs -- and breakfast pizza Casey's is known for?  In the meantime, I am going to miss this Taco Bell.  It is the closest fast food place to me, so I relied on it for dinner and lunch many, many times over the years.  And now it's gone, just like many other places I believed would continue to exist.

Rest In Peace, TB.

NO, NOT HOOTERS!!!

Heard it on Common while working yesterday/Thursday afternoon: Hooters and The Mall Of America is closing for good.  Last day's next Sunday, the 22nd.  Goddammit.

First things first: I have kind of an obsession with stores that have been at the Megamall from the start.  (The store can't move from its original footprint.  Also, it can be renovated, but it might not count in my eyes if it, say, closed down in order to make those renovations.  Length of time is important in this case.)  Hooters was one of them.  With it being gone, what's left?  Macy's?  Nordstrom?  Cinnabon on the 1st floor?  That alpaca place that somehow stays in business?

But I am sad about what I think of as an institution closing down.  That breastaurant made me a man.  I'm joking.  Well, only half-joking.  Well, that half-joking part is perverted as hell, because going there was the first time in my life I felt good about being proud of looking at gorgeous women dressed daringly (or at least how I thought daring was at the time).  I think the first time I went to Hooters I went with my high school buddies.  My friend noticed that our (hot) waitress was stuffing a pack of cigarettes in her fanny pack, and I thought that was the hottest goddamn thing ever.

Hooters MOA overcame a flurry of sexual harassment lawsuits early in its tenure to just be the place teenage boys go to begin to get in touch with their heterosexual desires, and for parents to bring their boys to prevent them from becoming gay.  I went from time to time to ogle, of course, but there are a few servers there that I'm familiar with.  No way are we friends or anything, but I think that we are acquainted enough that whenever we see each other, we smile, and that's great.  My "relationship" with Hooters was cemented over the past several years once I decided to buy the Hooters calendar every year and, if possible, get it autographed.  It was nice to have the sexiest Hooters girls sign.  I even took the calendar to other parts of the country if I were vacationing so I could have other Hooters girls in other branches sign it.  And, of course, I came back ... well, not because of the food per se, but for the coupons that came with the calendar.  If I spend $15 when I visit this month, I get a free dessert.

I planned on going Thursday to get that free dessert, and to watch the actual start of March Madness, but now I must go.  And I probably will go that Sunday too, its final day.  Thirty-three years, man, a third of a century, and they said it wasn't making enough money.  I will miss the fuck out of that place.

You know, come to think of it ... I know the perfect place to replace Hooters -- Twin Peaks.  Same concept, they're growing (the company, not my dick), and even though the closest stores are in Fargo and Omaha, it might be time to bring one to the Twin Cities.  And who knows, maybe those Twin Peaks girls will do things beyond my wildest dreams.  No, probably not.  But a lonely hetero perv can dream, and Hooters allowed me to do that.  RIP, Hooters Megamall.

My Sister The Proxy

So I told Mother that I got my passport book and card two and three weeks (respectively) after I applied online, and she asked for my help to coach her through the online application process for her and Father at a day I had time to help her with it.  I told her on Sunday that I could help her Monday evening.

Now, I've told all of you how much of a mental and emotional drain being on the phone with My Mother can be.  I think that planning a long phone call ahead of time, like it obviously was going to be when dealing with an online passport renewal application over the phone and not while I'm sitting next to her, helps remind me that I need to be patient.  What I didn't know, however, was that my sister just so happened to be visiting my parents in Las Vegas for a few days.  Awesome!  She basically became my on-site translator and extra set of hands!!  So sis, can you do the application process for the 'Rents ... and ooh, by the way, can you help me install a new modem and router in their condo, too?

This problem of theirs goes back at least a year.  Mother complains of dead spots, namely their dining room table, which is at the opposite end of the part of their condo where their old, slow, obsolete modem resides.  It needed a new one, I suspected, and then it needed something to boost its range and help the signal break through the condo's walls.  But I wasn't planning on going out there anytime soon, not as long as this Republican administration has the gall to snatch up anyone at the airport they decided they don't like, so I figured my folks would have to just suck it up.  My sister being there, however, changes everything.  I could tell her what the problem is and how to fix it.  So once I decided she could do this (and my sis made the online application process for both Mother and Father go so smoothly), I spent the rest of the night looking up the best modem and router to buy at an electronics store and bought them, then I texted her all the information for the three of them to pick up, bring home, and set up so Mother can finally stop bitching about their shitty wi-fi.

That part did not go smoothly.  First of all, the modem I bought for them has to be hooked up with a coaxial cable.  I thought every place had a coax, but apparently this condo only connects to the Internet outside via Ethernet.  My sister tried to see if the modem would work just hooked up through Ethernet, but she told me (on the phone Tuesday night while I was at the Timberwolves Game) that it didn't.  Also, the router I got for them was just one unit of those "meshes" or "pods" or whatever you call it.  I thought one would be enough.  I thought that if I bought them a second (which, presumably, would be placed as far away as the first "mesh" or "pod," which has to be connected to the modem, in order to maximize the range), they would complain that, like, "It looks bad," or something.  My folks can be that shallow.  Well, Mother complained (after my sis attached this new router to the old modem, which she had a bit of trouble reconnecting) that there still wasn't any range.

My sister was leaving Thursday, and there was no way my parents would even dare try hooking up this second router, so my sister got my brother to buy that second router, which could be delivered the next day (which was Wednesday) because he has Amazon Prime.  (This is where I expand the universe of this blog post by reminding you that after I got home from the Game, I saw that my thermostat didn't work and, ironically, decided to accept a free trial of Amazon Prime in order to buy the same brand of thermostat so that I didn't have to do any wire work to put in a different brand of thermostat, and get it delivered as soon as possible ... even though I put in a second different set of batteries which made the old thermostat finally work.)  My sister got this second router, she installed it Wednesday, and it ... well, I haven't asked Mother yet if the range is better.

All through this ordeal, I profusely thanked my sister for doing this favor -- for our Mother, because our Mother wanted it, but frankly, for me, too.  I don't think she had running to Best Buy and spending a good chunk of one afternoon installing new wi-fi as part of her plans while visiting my parents.  I recognize that I ask ... no, use my sister a lot when I want something done.  Most notably, when I feel like I can't talk to my brother about something I need him to know, I tell my sister and she tells him.  We were in Hong Kong for Grandmother's funeral several years ago, and we were not on speaking terms then, so we asked our sis to relay any messages we needed the other to know.  She recognized that; the night after the funeral service, when I took her to this bar I wanted to go to because I needed a drink, she told me she knows what both of us are asking her to do in order to keep the peace between us.  And she almost broke down crying.  The gravity of burying Grandmother had something to do with it, of course, but being the peacemaker brings its own anguish, and that is something we make her do.

She acted as if she didn't mind putting in a new modem and router, even though she had no previous experience.  Still, besides thanking her a lot for being my proxy, I wonder if there's something else I could do for her ... or does she have a favor I'll have to pay her in kind.  Either way, that's an obligation I should do for her.  She did this for me, after all.

I Want To Fight Over Pennies, But Can't

Yeah, I hear that the country would be saving money if we did away with the penny.  I still don't like the idea that we no longer have a denomination of "1," you know?  I think there has to be a currency that counts off one.  Because if now the smallest amount of coin is five, why do we have the number one itself?  (I may not make any sense, or cents, but it makes sense/cents to me.)  And I will do my goddamnedest not to agree with any fucking decision this installed government makes.

But these guys have ended minting the penny, and so stores are beginning to make decisions on what to do if change requires pennies.  Some stores I've been to are going to round the total of purchases I make down to the nearest nickel, which is nice.  But just now I went to the discount food store near me for some stuff, my change was supposed to be $X.XX.X1, and she gave me all the money I was owed except for one penny.  Don't know if she rounds, or is told to round, up to the nearest nickel or round to the nearest nickel, period.  But I'm still miffed.  And before, I swear I would've pitched a fit demanding my fucking penny.  But now, considering this death of the penny, I don't know if I can fight it.  Ah, well.  This is a discount food store; I think I'm getting stuff there for dirt cheap, so maybe the thinking is I shouldn't be fighting over a single penny.  Hrmph.

The Downside To Having A Neighbor Who's Looking Out For You

As I have told all of you, my sister's childhood best friend lives a couple houses down from me/us with her wife and their baby.  We text from time to time, but we have been in touch more since her mom passed in December.  I wanted to give her me and my family's sympathies, and then I wished her Happy Holidays, and then this fucking occupation from our goddamn Republican government began, and that is when I really started to text/bug her about sightings and, if need be, having each other's backs if the shit hits the fan.

She has a background in security, plus she has always been observant, so in the days when I got really scared about them patrolling our neighborhood and even our street, I felt, and feel, good that she will at the very least let me know if she sees something scary.  I have not been one to reach out and be friendly to neighbors, but if and when the time comes to band together, that is when it's beneficial, if not vital, to know who the people who live next and close to you are.

With all that said ... a man has needs, and for the first time since my parents finally skedaddled, I asked one of my stripper girlfriends, ******e, to come over and play with me.  She was late, of course, and this was when I came home from downtown watching the EPL after waking up early enough to see some soccer.  My body, with the help of the Bloody Mary I had, told me to rest while I waited for her.

I woke up to both a knock on the door and a buzz from my phone.  Naturally, I checked my phone first.  There was a text -- not from ******e, whom I asked to let me know when she was close, but from my sister's best friend.  She said she saw a car pull up to the driveway, and did I expect it.  And this is what I feared: Her doing the neighborly thing all too well.

I have, or had, kept to myself because I didn't want anybody peeping on my business, especially my illicit one.  And yes, I have known her for a long, long time, so it's possible that she has seen cars come up to my house before.  But I haven't asked her to watch over me in case people are taking me away until now.  And now I know for sure that she has been looking.

So I race down the door to open it and invite ******e in.  That's when I had to think of a reply, so I just said, "Yeah, I was expecting company," and then for some goddamn reason I went, "Don't tell anyone!"  Great, now I have given her reason to think I am doing something my parents don't know I'm doing.

Look, I don't think she'd tell my folks.  After all, my parents refused to attend her mother's funeral, even though they were home and the service was virtually down the street.  My folks made her mom egg rolls, and she loved them.  That's a connection that should be celebrated, or at least memorialized, as she was laid to rest.  But they declined to go, and Mother's knee is a bullshit excuse, even though Mother never raised it (and no, I didn't ask why they didn't want to go).

So that makes me think that there's no way my sister's best friend would just blurt out one day to them that I had a chick come over.  But, would she tell my sister?  Maybe.  And that's what scares me.  I hope she plays it cool and understand I'm an adult.  And I don't think I can now ask her not to look when a suspicious car drives up to my house; these assholes are still around.  But I don't think I am going to stop asking my stripper girlfriends to come over, either.  In fact, I think I am going to ask *****y to drop by, and then, hopefully, ****e* will have time the following week to clean my house.  Will she suspect something if she sees a pattern of cars drive up to the house?  And if so, will she tell?

It's weird to think that she might be thinking I'm having sex workers at my house, I'll tell you that much.

Goddamn, they murdered another one.  They don't care.  He was no threat, but they say he was a threat, and because we have some stupid, stupid people living in this country, they're going to get away with it.

I'm even more scared now.  Truth doesn't matter anymore.  It's not that people aren't hearing past the lies.  There is a significant population in America, in my humble opinion, that don't care about facts.  They will believe any bullshit that comes out of any motherfucker from this installed administration because they want to hear what they are hearing.

I have to ask again: How is non-violence going to get us out of this?

The TV Just Up And Helped Me

So the television set in my bedroom, the one that I got for free from my friend's friends, the one that My Father put in my bedroom when My Fucking Parents decided to redo my whole goddamn room ... well, it's been a challenge.  My Father replaced my TV set (and put the one I had, the one I bought, in the den that he would use once in a blue moon) probably because this one I got was bigger than the one I bought.  It has become clear since I started using it, however, that the I bought, even though it's much smaller, is more technologically advanced.  Beyond its old age, there are very small, first-world issues that make me not like this TV as much as the one I got for myself.  It takes more than ten seconds for it to come on, for example.  Also, sometimes the remote control doesn't work and I have to tap it on the back a few times; these guys really took this television through its paces over the years.  Finally, it doesn't have a "recall" or "back" button in the traditional sense.

What it does have instead is a feature whereby you can see up to the last six channels you were on (or fewer; it stores in memory the channels you were watching since you turned on the television).  You hit this TV's version of a "recall" or "back" button and six squares pop up on the bottom of the television screen.  They're all blank, and for a while there it pissed me off that I couldn't toggle between two channels.  But then I hit the remote's down arrow and voila, that's where up to the last six channels appeared in those boxes.  (You hit the down arrow again and the, I guess, "third" row are all the channels you have programmed onto the TV, and you can use the left and right arrows to scroll through them.)  So I finally understood how I could flip back and forth through channels; it's certainly not as fast as just hitting one button, but if I wanted to go through three or more, I can't really think of a faster way to do that.  So, it's a compromise.

Another thing so bothersome about this TV's interface comes from those six squares.  They always appear on the bottom.  If I'm watching a game on TV, the scorebug (the graphic that shows all the pertinent information on the game you're watching, such as score, which quarter/half/period is it, how much time is left, etc.) usually is on the bottom third of the screen.  So when a channel pops up and I want to just quickly see were in the game that game is before I go back to the other game, I can't see the score; instead, I see those stupid six boxes.  Yes, I guess I could wait the five-to-ten seconds to check the scorebug, but like I said, doing that is not in my nature.

Another graphic that popped up at the bottom of the television screen is the channel graphic.  You know, whenever you flip to a channel, you will see graphics that state what it is, like "41-2," or something.  So, if I want to use the "recall" or "back" button to toggle between channels, what happens is you select that channel from one of the on-screen boxes, the channel comes on with these six blank boxes obscuring your screen for four seconds or so, then the channel graphic obscures your screen for another four seconds or so.  Highly annoying, and not very user-friendly.

But then, maybe a few weeks ago, the damndest thing happened.  The channel box, the graphic that first appears when you get onto a channel, jumped from the bottom of the TV screen to the top.  Now, the graphics don't block my view of the score for as long as it did.  I have no idea how it happened.  I played with the settings, but I'm sure I didn't select anything unless I knew I wanted it.  It looks as though this TV, even though I'm sure it predates artificial intelligence, understood intuitively how upset I was that this graphic was blocking the scorebug, so it knew to place it on the top of the screen.  Now, why it couldn't do the same thing with the three rows of six squares, I don't know.

Still, I'll take it.  I'm glad the TV "got" me.  But is it good that it has a mind of its own, like HAL in 2001: A Space Odyssey?  Honestly, with the way the country is right now, being spat out into space to die because AI was afraid it was going to be killed isn't the worst way to go.

Living Like This

I just heard that there is an application that can pinpoint where people of color live in a given neighborhood.  All the information we have given through the Internet and our cellphones has finally been weaponized against us under this installed government.  Finally comes the surveillance state.  Meanwhile, the "small government" militias should be taking up arms now, but they're awfully quiet.  Turns out some of us knew all along: They're only small government when the people they don't like are in charge.  When people they do like are in charge, they're totally cool with that.  Shit, they might just take arms and become the hatchet men of the government.  Fucking posers.

---

I gave myself a nightmare whereby I have just shut the door on my way to my car in the morning and two of these pricks, standing against my house, jump me and try to hustle me into their SUV.  But I resist, punching and kicking and biting all the way.  Finally, I reach for some guy's gun and blast the two fuckers who were holding me down ... only to get shot by reinforcements standing a few feet away.

That might be how I go.

---

They got really close today.  These monsters were hanging out at the hospital, trying to get in.  Luckily, if I heard correctly, they weren't allowed in.  But they keep coming at us like this.

And now I hear they're vulturing around the elementary school.  What they're doing is kidnapping.  It's not lawful no matter what anyone says, it's kidnapping.  And kidnapping kids?  I don't care who they are, and I don't care what happens to them if, Lord willing, we the people finally stop them.  Disgusting.

---

I was invited to a party this weekend.  Want to, mostly because one of my ATFs is going, but I won't attend.  For one thing, it's at an area that feels as though it'll be visited.  For another, there's football, and I want to watch both Games.  But I have to tell you, the stripper organizing the house party has turned into a fucking MAGAt.  I had no idea she was so racist, but ever since he was installed a second time last year, she hasn't been shy about sharing memes on her Facebook that make my stomach turn.  And I'm very surprised it's coming from her because she's mixed.  Who does she think she is, White?

I have dropped on occasional comment on her Facebook implying what she's posting is wrong and/or Republican, but she hasn't said anything back to me on that front.  But when I told her I couldn't go to her party, she gave me a sad emoticon.  Does she understand how racist she is, and I'm not really digging that shit?  But why am I being so strident?  If this fascism dies down, I'll probably go to one of her parties again.

---

It seems as though there wasn't a whole lot of activity yesterday/Thursday, attempted invasion of the hospital aside.  I could be imagining things.  Maybe this is a lull before another surge.  Or, they might be hesitating because it turned cold yesterday/Thursday.  It'll get even colder today/Friday, and it'll be that way for the next week or so.  By God, if this gives these assholes a second thought, we just might get out of this.

Too Much To Do This Week, And I'm Not Doing That Much Because Of ... Well

I totally am happy with seeing my friend who's in town.  She would be, absolutely and every time, my main priority if I have other things I want to do.  And dammit, there are a couple other things I could do this weekend, and I am blog posting about how much I fucking hate that all three goddamn things are here at the same time.

My friend travels for her job.  She was back here in the early fall, but for some family obligations.  That's when she told me she would be in town to work the first full week of January.  That's when I was already formulating in my mind what we could and do when she was back and maybe had more time to do things.

I do not know if it was made before or after my friend told me she would be back in town now, but around this time (I guess) I realized that my alma mater's basketball teams would be playing the U. here this weekend.  First of all, I don't understand how both of my teams are playing here at the same weekend; that's a weird scheduling quirk that I can't believe just lined up that way.  Second, with that, "uh," opportunity, does that mean that both teams travelled here and will travel back on the same plane so they can save money?  But I've gone off on a tangent.  I have to see my alma mater's teams when they play in town ... unless my friend wants to do something else.  But luckily for me, we both went to the same college, so maybe she would want to go to these Games, too?  She said she had time for the men's Game, which was last/Friday night, but not the women's Game, which is tomorrow/Sunday afternoon.  I will presume she can't make it tomorrow because she is busy with work.

Again, I wish these things happened on separate weeks, but I am managing to both go to the Games I want to go to and see my friend.  But there is another thing that I realized is also happening this week, and this I think was scheduled for a year: The Twin Cities Auto Show.  This show was in March for as long as I can remember, with the exception of the COVID years, where I think I didn't go one year and the other year I went when it was held at the State Fairgrounds late spring or early summer.  I always go, but by the time I realized it was happening the same week as my alma mater's b-ball teams and my friend being here for work, I quickly concluded that I can't go.  I'm just too busy and tired.  And (and this could be rationalizing) the auto show has changed since the manufacturers stopped printing out brochures for us to take.  Not saying that I no longer have any fun there, but my stays at the show have shortened because I can't pamphlet-hunt.  I'm not upset that I am passing this up.

Now, all this ICE bullshit is complicating everything.  I haven't yet heard they are in downtown Minneapolis, but I am spooked enough that, if I had the time to go, I would hesitate.  Meanwhile, I invited my friend to this speakeasy tonight.  She might be busy hanging out with another friend.  But I have to be honest and say I am nervous because this place is much closer to the site of that murder by that ICE incel on Wednesday.  Finally, even though I went to the U. last/Friday night and will tomorrow/Sunday afternoon, I am scared of going there too because, who knows, I could be stopped, or worse.

So maybe I shouldn't kvetch over three things all happening at the same time because of fascism.  To be candid, I didn't think my blog post would veer this way.  Oh well.

End Of 2025 Thoughts

My now ex-boss ... yeah, he was a guy.  Not only did he announce he was leaving through e-mail the minimum two weeks before he actually leaving, today, his last day, he didn't stay the whole day.  And he just e-mailed everybody peace before he left for his car five minutes later.  We all made a goodbye and thanks card for him, but my co-worker had to run it out to him as he was about to leave.  I think I said this before: I would rather have him than a micro-manager.  But geez, this is the guy who hired me for my first full-time job.  He helped me turn into a responsible adult.  I would have liked to express my gratitude in a less shallow way.

---

My co-worker to whom I leaned up for much of my job left at the end of 2024, so in that sense, 2025 has gone full circle.  It has been a challenge to see my job, and thus me, change, mostly because people above me were leaving.  (I forgot that my supervisor left in the late summer; I still haven't recovered from that.)  We'll get by, only because we have to.  But I have no idea what this change will bring, and I don't like change as a principle.

I think the main thing that happened in my life, though, is Mother's knee surgery.  I am able to live much of my life independently, and for the most part I love living alone.  I haven't been able to do that for the past seven or eight months because of what Mother has to go through.  I always adapt, and I am glad that she got her knee fixed (even though she complains that it is not as good as she wants it to be), but some days it hasn't been fun having them around here ... and yet, I want to cherish the times I have with my folks when they're good, like when Father helped me clear the driveway of snow, or every night I get to eat a great dinner my parents made.

My neighbor's death a few weeks ago still weighs on me.  She is the person in my life I have lost this year, so in that sense, I have been quite lucky.  That's why I want to enjoy my time with my parents when they should be halfway around the world.  One year I will look back on the year with great, intense sadness.  I know it'll happen, and I don't want it to.

---

I'm driving down to my friends' place after I get finished with this blog post.  Hope I survive the drive down and back.  It's a tradition I intend on continuing for as long as possible, as a signpost that, despite all the setbacks and wrongs and pain I might have incurred through the year, I made it.

Happy New Year, everyone.  Let's make it a good one.

I'm Not Mad At Them, Just Disappointed

Another thing about the funeral service for my neighbor: Neither of my parents went.  Mother was dead set against it once I told her; I thought Father would go, and he said yes, but the night before he said no.  So, even though we lived a few houses down from her, even though they sometimes waved to her when the neighbor was enjoying the outdoors on her porch, and even though, when my folks were making egg rolls for us to eat, would make enough for her to eat as well, they refused to say goodbye to her in the last time one could say goodbye to someone before the body is laid into the earth or cremated.

My parents are very private people, but I really, really thought the circumstances around this death would prompt them to behave differently this one time.  They knew her.  They live close by.  The service was two minutes away by car.  (I walked there; if it weren't cold, snowy and windy as it was that afternoon, they could've made it in five minute on foot, and even if they didn't want to go, I could fucking drive them.)  And they fucking had nothing else to do.  And yet, they refused.  Maybe you could blame the weather, maybe you could blame them being so old and not wanting to risk, for example, falling on the icy sidewalk.  But those are just excuses.  Fact is, they just don't fucking care.  And they showed their whole ass for my neighbor's children to see when I showed up but they didn't, even though it would have been so goddamn easy for them to put something clean on and stand for two hours.

Also, like I said in my previous blog post about this, they originally planned to leave for Las Vegas the morning of the ceremony.  They said they thought the flight they wanted to take would prevent me from going.  I told them when I first told them about the date of the funeral service that I could take them to the airport, come back, shower, dress and get to the ceremony, no problem -- and it wouldn't have been a problem.  I thought they stayed because at least one of them would pay their respects.  So, if they wouldn't, then why the hell are they fucking here for another three goddamn weeks?  If they're not going to be nice, respectful people in saying goodbye to a neighbor and trying to comfort her loved ones, why don't you just get the hell on out of here?

I'm not mad at them, I'm just disappointed.  No, I lie.  I'm disappointed in them, too.  I didn't learn to be a grown-up from them, that's for goddamn sure. ...

And The Hits Just Keep On Comin'

Lovely service yesterday.  Just about teared up when I saw my family friend's friend walk down the aisle after the memorial was over with a tissue in her hand.

More people you love die as you get older.  I don't think I'll get numb to it.  Quite the opposite -- it'll hurt more and more.

And after I got back from the post-memorial dinner (ate a whole lot), I saw on Facebook that the father of a high school friend was killed in a car accident.  No!  I didn't know the father, and I haven't seen this friend since high school.  But the service is close by me.  In fact, it's where we had the service for one of my uncles.  It's in the evening, and I already broke out my suit for this service.  I think it's the right thing to do to go to this service too, just to support my old friend.  But I'm telling you, this is getting harder and harder to deal with.

On my way out the door at work yesterday/Wednesday my co-worker stopped me.  I had logged off of my computer, and thus didn't see my e-mail.  But my co-worker was staying a bit longer and had me look at her e-mail.

My boss sent a letter, just as many of us were leaving.  He's leaving the company at the end of the year.

Look, I don't want to get too mushy, but I'm not taking this well.  So yes, I have complained about him in the past about overtime.  First of all, that's largely subsided in the past year or so, partly because most of the year has been filled with learning to do the work other people had been doing, partly because the workload has actually been tame enough that we've been leaving after eight hours ever since, oh, Halloween or so.  And even so, beyond one time where I started putting out feelers for other jobs (and by the way, I think he's leaving to pursue a passion of his), nothing too serious came about his, for lack of a better word, threats over it.  I didn't like what he said, but he didn't go beyond that to action that affected my workday or pay.

Beyond that, I actually like him as a boss.  He's overall easygoing, he for the most part provided answers whenever I had questions, and yet at the same time he sure isn't a micromanager.  I could go to him if I had issues.  Finally, I respected him as a boss.  He was dedicated to and serious about doing the work, even if he didn't take himself seriously, which is the best combination.  He wasn't a dick, and he didn't play games as a person in authority.

Now that he's gone ... well, it's not to say that I'm sure that I'll get the opposite, but we're heading into the unknown as to who we'll answer to and what he or she will expect from us.  And sure, I didn't know what I would get from him as a boss.  But he was the one who interviewed and hired me for my first (and so far only) actual job; I was going to have to deal with whatever he was going to give me and whoever he decided to be.  And I can say, for a fact, I could do a lot worse than him.  But he is gone, and frankly, on top of my neighbor dying, and the massacres at Brown University and Bondi Beach in Sydney, plus Rob Reiner and his wife being murdered by their son, and this corrupt and stupid piece of shit that cheated to win the presidency a second time getting away with it every day, this is more change I didn't want to have to deal with at the same time.  It's a blindside, and right now, it feels sad.