Shhh...I'm Flourishing

(Photo by David Schindler Photography)

Henry Winkler has taken it upon himself to haunt me during commercials while Three's Company is on.  I'm fairly certain I've mentioned this before but I never thought Fonzie's "Aaayyyy" would come after the sounds "Mon....".  Oh how could they degrade THE FONZ like that?  The Fonz is supposed to whack the machine, not work for the machine!

So tonight I received a phone call from the Flipper and he lets me know that he has nothing to say.  Ok, I get from his pile of droppings that he is calling to do a reach out.  It has been duly noted on the score sheet.  He only mentioned it a few times.  Where it curdled was more or less after the statement, " I figured you'd be mad if I didn't call so I'm calling to say hi".  My response was along the lines of "Oh, so this is a Duty call".  He branded me negative.  Wow, I could play the drinking game to that label.  But instead I thought that really all I said was 'duty'.  I didn't brand one way or another, although come on, you know that I was thinking it.  I told him that really, he could have kept that part to himself...that's what made it 'negative' in my opinion.  Talk about needing recognition.  Well ok then.  I'll give ya the opportunity for tons of recognition in the next few days.  My dialing fingers feel faint.

Sure, call and say hi and that you don't feel like talking. But adding the "duty" connotation to it really sucked dirty ass.  Seriously. Be cute and inventive once in a while because this screams Ego.

Recently I saw a special on the evolution of the Chernobyl site.  It's PBS so it equates to a higher level of truth for me.  What an eye opener. And it's not just the Fritos and bourbon.

The concept being, a world without humans.  The land didn't shrivel up to dust without us.  Instead, nature flourished.  Flowers are not grey, they are vibrant purples.  Wolves appear to be abundant and apparently a lot rides on studying the wolves of Chernobyl as they are the top predator.  They are so radioactive that the scientists there would be poisoned if they swallowed one hair from the body of a wolf.  

Chernobyl has become poetry.  Stand still deaths of amusement park rides, empty, hollow, abandoned, as were dolls, toys, photos of previous generations.  Buildings, campuses, cars....everything untouched for 25 years.  So you can imagine the photo ops for anyone who has clearance to check things out after having at least 3 drinks and a hit of ecstasy because it would take at least that to weigh the risks and charge up that camera battery.  

When I see how alive the area actually is, it brings me relief.  Some sort of inner relief that what I think to be true and must be true is that if the earth boots our asses off, everything else will be just fine.  Why does this give me peace?  I'm guessing because I'm the Cat Who Hated People.  

I'm sure there are many who are on nature's side, willing to fist pump a cheer out for that which blooms and perseveres without Us.  The earth can breathe instead of constantly tightening up her tummy muscles, preparing for the next assault.  

Check out the video (link above) while I go contemplate something that I heard today about  loving someone but knowing that in order to love, you don't even have to be with them.  I'll need to count the ways that I am fulfilled and happy within this union and see if I need to put my Earth costume on and boot some ass.  

If I Don't Invite You, The Terrorists Win

I don't get the fascination with Josh Groban.  I clearly see that he's a good looking pup with his melted chocolate brown eyes and scrubbly scrub'ems facial hair.  I realize that he can sing.  But it's like he was born to sing to old widows.  I'm a grandma myself but clearly not old enough to even listen to his voice.  Tell ya what.  I will learn every lyric to his music if you put a half dressed and willing Blake Shelton in the room with me.  

I have no idea what I am really watching on the Tele right now but it's related to PBS in some way on a different channel than my Home Girl PBS station.  It might be the Something Something Pops Orchestra with some older and for one for the old, stars. 

I took the Teen out yesterday for a day of wild and crazy girl time.  We filled up at a local deli on a fresh mozzarella sandwich and headed toward some falls that are about 40 minutes away.  To be sure that I didn't get demerits I checked with Flip first to see if he wanted to come but made it known that I didn't want time constraints.  He is always needed to leave early for something or other and I just wanted to kick the clock in the nads and enjoy a day.

He couldn't go...his clock was wearing a strap.

I had a quieter, adult meltdown when the Teen mentioned that she brought her Now 40 CD for us to listen to on the ride.  Really?  Do I have to hear the whole thing?  Only two songs. That's it. That's my usual rule in the car if she brings a CD that has imprinted on my DNA by her playing it repeatedly.

Then "In My Head" came on.  I started fist pumping and shouting "JASON DURULO!!!!" along with.....Jason Durolo.  She was embarrassed.  Maybe she'll stop bringing these things along for the ride.

We had a great time at the falls.  It was worth the $15 parking fee (we're out of state).  I haven't been so smitten with a view in quite some time.  Looking up provided trees on a mountain type slope on either side of the rushing water coming down at us.  The teen hung out in one of the levels where the water collects and is carried more slowly out.  I hung out on a tier with my flip flopped feet in the water and attempted to read but really only took in the view.  It felt like when I brought books on the train to Arizona from NY and could barely read one.  The view was too magnificent at all times.  

I thought about the summer that we spent so much time there with El, my past fiancee.  We used to pick up a dozen crickets from the pet store on the way there and unload them into the paradise of the wilderness. We'd bring my brother's kids and on the way home, we'd always share some Fatty McCalorie drink from Starbucks, along with a yummy snack.  We shared everything.  I think we hardly ever bought one thing for one person only.  We might get two items but they were both shared.  Eating was an event for us, something to get as jazzed about as anyone would for Great Adventure, sex or winning a scratch off.

I felt a wonderful peace there.  Breathed it in and hoped someday that I will return with those kind of times, but that if I don't, what I have is certainly enough.

Today while driving, a car was in the lane next to me and we were stopped at red light.  The passenger side window opened and a closed hand came out.  The hand opened and a butterfly popped out!  I felt like it was a tiny reminder to me that even though Flip is putting my heart into the litter box and coating it like a crunchy filet before tenderizing it with cleats, life is constantly showing me beautiful things.

On the way home from our errands, the Teen notices an ambulance behind us.  It is calm, there are no lights going on, it's just acting like a normal vehicle.  She asked why it was behind us.  So I put on the classical music station to provide us with the drama that we would need for my answer.  The music ascended and crashed!  The Music says that it is all doom!!!!  The Music says we don't KNOW why that ambulance is there! OH MY GOD!!!!

As far as doom really goes, Flip told me last night that he does all the Reach Outs as I pecked away at my keyboard complaining about already.  It's become some sort of Outsmart the Gopher game.  I was sure to email him this morning to say hi.  He gave me the tiniest of replies and later on replied again to say something about a ghastly headache and that his body hurt.  Well, yeah that's possible.  OR IS SHE OVER AND HE WANTS TO BE SURE THAT I DON'T BOTHER HIM!  Ok, that's just paranoid so I brushed my shoulder off and pretended that I'm better than that to be thinking those thoughts.  Eventually I called him way later on to say hello, because I am accused constantly of not trying.  I mean, why am I really trying?  I'm calling more likely because I am tired of being told that I am not doing anything right and that he is.  So THAT'S why I call?  Mr. Bodyaches and Head Throbs didn't answer anyway so I left a message.  And eventually got an email back saying he got the message and that his head still hurts and I can call him when I'm done with my work out since he didn't want to intrude with a call during that.

That all makes perfect sense, right?  Or does it play into SABOTAGE perfectly??  Who knows. But I sent an email back again...I had many things to do still and didn't want to call and possibly wake up what could have been a nap of his.  I've heard him too often complain that he was TRYING to take a nap but people keep calling the house.  I hate being on the other end of that.  His crabby is deadly to a healthy amount of self-esteem.  Can wipe it right out with one sentence that includes how put out he is because you called and woke him up.

I've not gotten a call either.  My possible wrong assumption is that we are on Game Standard Time.....now it's a test to see how much I care and if I'll call.  I've already done enough I feel.  I'm not going to find my favorite ass kissing lipstick and wear it out.  

But perhaps I will wear Click Your Heels Three Times Cherry and remember how good it really does feel to be Home.  Even if I haven't exactly figured out how great I've got it.  

Friday night in da Howwwwwwseeee!!!!  Gots my two makeshift chairs that are now makeshift "end tables" holding a couple of remotes, 4 hours old coffee, water and a book titled "Use Your Brain to Change Your Age".  Which I am not doing, because I'm not actually reading it right now.  I am aging as I type this.  Each keystroke produces one further creak in the body.  

To my right is one section of the NY Times from Sunday, the 22nd of April.   I have yet to get through this one section.  

In front of me is .... I hesitate to say it....a Phil Collins concert on PBS.  Even Phil Collins is fed up with how exciting my night is.  He appears to have not even shaved.  I didn't think it possible, but he is at some level of Advanced Bald.  I've never seen him so smooth (from the face up).  

Speaking of break ins...(bear with me on this one), the sink was all clogged up for whatever reason for a couple of days.  It was working fine, then one day I came home and the dude downstairs had water pouring out of his ceiling.  So while I worked from home today, the guys who would be fixing it, showed up.  They left me alone for a long time while I worked.  Eventually I went out to check on progress because it feels weird having two strange guys in the house with my back to the doorway.  They struck up conversation.  It felt innocent at first.  Then my mind started making a checklist of warning signs. Too many questions about me.  Asking about the picture of my daughter on the fridge.  I mentioned my older daughter (did not mention that she lives slightly further away than the next planet) and hoped they'd think she was here too.  I hoped that the little teen would come home after they had left.  The good thing is, Former Live In Partner (FLIP  - wow.  Appropriate.) showed up but didn't stay long.  It was obvious that he doesn't live here. And I thought to myself briefly,what if both parties want to "off" me.  But neither can because the other party is here.  I wish I could say that thought stayed far on the outskirts of my imagination, but the shameful facts are what they are. 

 He left after they did.  Only they weren't gone.  They were slowly putting their things away in the truck in the driveway.  They saw him leave.  And I thought to myself, I'll bet one of them is going to come back up here and make some excuse.  I couldn't imagine what it would be - "Hi, I left my um, well, I guess Nothing up here.  So whoops, sorry to trouble you, but glad that I saw the inside of your place again."  Teen-A-Ling had managed to get home already while they were out in the back and asked to go to the library, so I sent her off and watched her out the front window.  Yep, 30 seconds from here to the door.  (I had to count since that's what I tell everyone).  But she came back quickly.  And of course, Fix It guy managed to come back up to tell me something that I thought was rather full of fish and quite lame.  No tools were left here...no real thing to tell me.  Flag flag flag.  

Then Teen-A-Ling walked in.  He seemed brightened to see her, which under normal circumstances I'd be proud of.  

But now you have the MacGuyver Method Mom figuring out how to block a door from being busted in.  FLIP wouldn't actually do anything harmful....he stopped by bearing the gift of Mutant Cupcake.  The other guy though, that would keep me up at night.  This is where a bottle of bourbon would help.  I'd ditch the paranoia and strike an intruder with the bottle.  Or throw bourbon in his eyes.  That's right creepy Bad Excuse To Come Back Fix It Guy, the ole dehydrate your eyeballs in high proofs trick!

Phil Collins was just bopping up and down in place.  Not jumping, just sort of bopping.  He addressed the audience and I found it weird that he was still bopping.  I think he is just getting old and couldn't put the brakes on.

And although I've heard people call him the Anti-Christ I fully disagree.  Pink Floyd is.  

Onward....time to finish up this one section of last Sunday's paper.