More Classic Movies

I had neglected to mention this weeks films, courtesy of the local library.  I seem to be gravitating back and forth, to and from Alfred Hitchcock.  I pulled “North By Northwest” with Cary Grant and Eva Marie Saint, “A Streetcar Named Desire” with Marlon Brando and Vivian Leigh, “This Is Spinal Tap”, and the first season of Little Britain.

I love this show.  It is so over the top, as are most British comedies.  They don’t really have skits, per se, but rather vignettes.  Some of them last anywhere from 30 seconds to 7 minutes.   But the characters are great.

One of my co-workers agreed to record some movies from Turner Classics.  He gave me the first, “Spellbound” with Gregory Peck and Ingrid Bergman.    See, it’s the Hitchcock movies.

Just to see her

Today was my last day here in the basement of The Big City Hospital.  Actually, tomorrow is my last day, but I said my farewells to most of the guys today.  I am resolved to the idea of changing job locations.  But it will mean thinking and planning ahead, shopping smart, and stop being so impulsive.  It means cooking more at home rather than ordering out.  It means following a budget alot closer than I had been.

Alot of guys are wondering why this happened.  I was asked to not talk about it with co-workers other than to say I leaving.  I will miss them.  They are a good bunch of guys.

I  was in the storeroom for the day, a respite from my usual work on the floors.  I alwys looked forward to being in the storeroom because I liked talking with, and hearing travel stories from the lead handler.  There is nothing about him that’s small.  Big voice, big body, big head.  At one point during the morning, I asked my lead, who is fully aware of my situation, “if she ever asked to get back together, what do you think I should do?”   She, of course, is The Woman Who Broke My Heart.

I knew the answer already.  There was nothing probable about it.

He had been burned by a divorce.  His ex- was cheating on him and it devistated him.  So his attitude about marriage, divorce and women was cut and dried.  He was not willing to marry again and his ex- is a bitch and he will put the screws to her.  His attitude about relationships is jaded, to say the least.  But he has been with the same woman for longer than he was married.  They live together, but they’re not married.

When the question escaped my lips, I immediately knew what his response would be.  “Are you kidding?”, he said, “If a woman broke up with me the way she broke up with you, and then she wanted to get back together, it’s not going to happen.”  Then he added something about her catching me on the rebound. 

It was a thought that had only breifly crossed my mind.  I knew that TWHBMH had been dumped by a previous boyfriend before she met me.  She had told me how it was devistating.  I hope she could recall those feelings whenever she thought of me 

 Or should I say IF she thought of me.

It’s been the most consistant thought I have had about her over time.  I have become better at being focused and not staying inside my head. I stay in the present and not get hung up on the past.  The thought of her doesn’t pre-occupy my thinking.  But I do find that when it’s quiet and I’m alone I do think about her.  I have saved all the emails we’ve exchanged.  I never got  around to deleting them from my account.  But I’ll go back and read some email, usually one where she is frisky and has been thinking about me.  It’s fun to look back, almost like following a timeline.  I do wonder if I’m hanging on, hoping things will change.  My thought is that it’s part of the healing process.  They are pleasant memories that recall a different time in my life.  Those were some amazing times with her.

I wonder, though, knowing what she did to me, knowing how it made me feel, and knowing how she felt before and after the fact, do you think if she ever thinks of me?  Am I a smile that comes when she recalls a special time?  Am I a nervous grumbling that makes her uncomfortable?  What does she feel at this point in time?  Is she trying to put her life back in order, just as I am?  Is she so busy that she doesn’t give  me  a second thought?

I don’t  have an answer.  I may never have an answer.  Maybe the time isn’t right.  But if I had anything to say to her, it probably would go something like this:

Baby, I still love you…truly, madly, deeply.  I hope you are happy.  Please be gentle with yourself. 

I don’t think ill of her.  I wish I could think of another name by which TWHBMH could be referred.  She deserves better.

How about my friend?

post script Sat 8/29:  After I had finished this blog entry, I had surfed over to the American Folk Festival website.  This has been a late summer fixture in the central part of the state for awhile.  The organizers try to blend as many different styles of music with crafts and local non-profits, to make for a fun time (and FREE) for all.  I went there because TWHBMH loves a Celtic band called Cherish The Ladies, which happened to be appearing at this years festival.  I swallowed hard and sent along an email.  No news or questions, just a forward for the website.  Not long after I sent it, I got an away notice from her.  I opened it and all it said was, “I am away!!!!”

I’m not sure if it was jitters or anxiety than moved through my body upon ready that simple sentance.  But it made me very emotional.  Although not directed to me specifically, those were the first written words from her that I’d seen in almost 3 months.

Then my mind took over and I began playing the guessing game.  Where was she?  Who was she with?  Was it another man?  Am I jealous?  (Of course I was) I drove myself berserk.  I can feel the tension building up in my body as I read this. for all the work I had done to set my life right, for all the small steps taken forward in the last three months, it was all laid to waste in a few seconds.  Any emotional strength just fell away.

Am I a failure?  No

Am I human?  Yes

What I proved to myself is that the feelings I have for her are still strong, no matter how hard I try to manage them.  It scares me to feel like this.  No matter what I’ve been told about “rebound” relationships, there is a small part of me that still clings to the notion that what she and I shared was real.

I lay in bed last night and prayed.  I prayed because I was scared.  I was scared that I am holding onto something I should be letting go.  I asked God to give me strength.  I wanted to see the future, these better times that everyone says are coming.  I had prayed like this when I was first separated from my ex-, almost out of desperation, to make the pain go away.  I was tired of the pain then and I am tired of it now.

Put On A Happy Face

People must be talking with The Woman Who Broke My Heart.

I have shared my reassignment news with some of the folks on the various floors.  I am the kind of person who, if I encounter someone on a regular basis, addresses them by name.  It’s the reason folks wear a name badge.  I try to do that with people in the service industries.  It’s bad enough they have to work at McDonald’s or WalMart.  Show them some respect, I say.  How hard is it to call them by name?  “Thanks for the help, Walter.”  “I appreciate that, Carole.”

Anyway, the advice I am getting from folks who actually care, it seems to be tempered with phrases such as, “good things will come out of this” or “”this was meant to happen”.  All the things TWWBMH would say.

She was always putting a positive spin on negative events.  I always admired that because I always had difficulty seeing beyond the Here-and-Now.  I’ve never been a forward thinker.  The past always seems to be sticking its nose where it shouldn’t be.  I’ve been doing my best to stay present and look to the future, but there are times when I can’t see that.

I wish the Cosmos had a way to reveal its plan for me.  Say, take control of my TV. 

“We interrupt this rerun of “Seinfeld” to show you your future”  (loud thunderclap, majestic music)

And it doesn’t have to be everything.  I don’t want to know how  and when I am going to die.  I do want to know if there’s a Powerball jackpot in my future.  I don’t want to know how global warming will affect the linksland golf course of Scotland.  I do want to know if I’ll contract a neuro-muscular disease that will prevent me from ever playing golf again.  

Then, there is the voice inside my head telling me that, at some point, I will need to be proactive about the direction of my life.  This is a difficult idea to ignore.  I have never been a good long range planner.  I can plan for the insurance payment due next month.  The rent check is doable.  Thinking about how I’m going to afford Christmas this year has begun to weigh on my mind.  I need to change the mindset.  I need to look at the situation and say, “what do I need to do to manage this situation?”  In this case, it’s a part-time job.  I have one lined up, but it starts in late October and only lasts for the Christmas season.  I need to start thinking about January and beyond.

In reference to the previous post, I do want to have a Life.  There has to be more than getting up, going to a job, and coming home.  I am so glad I have a good relationship with my kids.  I’m glad that my relationship with The Ex- is improving.  But I want more.  I don’t want to worry about how the bills get paid.  I don’t want to worry about how the car will get fixed.

I need to act, but I also need to ponder what is in store for me.

And the Hits Just Keep on Comin’

Just when I thought it wouldn’t get any worse, it has.

I was informed of my new schedule when I start at the warehouse.  I start this Sunday.  I will work wednesday – Sunday 5:30 AM – 2 PM.  That means I have to give up singing in my church choir. 

It gets better.

I  also have to give up Sunday services as well.  I need that time.  Not because I’m devout, but because I like being a part of a faith community.  I like seeing the people.  For me, that will be devistating because I have so little contact now.

Okay, I can hear some of you saying, “it’s an opportunity” or “you’ll have your evenings free”, “you’re the only one who can effect change in your life” or  “you we meant to do this”. Just save it.  I’m angry, let me be angry.

Go back into the archive and read some posts.  I hate my life.  I didn’t ask for it to be turned upside down.  I didn’t expect that it would be this challenging.  I’m am hanging on by a thread now.  Yes, I still have a job.  But, because of that change in position (and the corresponding loss of income), I will have to get a second job, which means I will have even less of a life than I have now.

I made a conscious choice to either have a life, where I can do things, not feel like I am tired all the time and just scrape by, or not to have a life, meaning I am able to pay my bills but have no energy to do anything aside from work.

I just want my life back.  I’m tired of obstacles.  I’m tired of pain, hurt and rejection.  I’m tired of isolation.  I’m tired of being alone.

I don’t want anyone’s pity or simpathy.  I’m frustrated and want all this crap to end.

Not a good day

I found out today that I’m being transfered, away from The Big City Hospital, to work at the offsite warehouse (a.k.a. Hell).  My direct supervisor told me that my skills would be better utilized there.  Read into it what you want, but this REALLY SUCKS!!!  If I work at the warehouse, I’ll lose about $150 in beeper pay each paycheck and I’ll have to pay more for gas because I can’t walk to work.

I am SO MAD!!!!!

The worst part of all is that my returning back to The Big City Hospital can’t be guaranteed.  The only motivation I have is being able to keep my benefits so that the kids have medical insurance.

This would be a good time to win the lottery.   HA!!!

Linus with a Blu-Tooth

My early-morning walks to work tend to be un-eventful.  They are quiet, short and savored events.  I like to hear seagulls overhead or the sound of passing vehicles on 295.  I like the early-morning light, especially when it hits a brick building just right, giving it a glow.

This morning was not unlike any other morning.  On this morning, I happened to notice a woman walking in the same direction, on the opposite side of the street.  She seemed ordinary, dressed in a tanktop, shorts and sandals.  I noticed her as I turned the corner from my building.  We walked in the same direction and we reached the end of the street, she was contantly on her cellphone for that entire time.  Nothing unusual, right?  You see people all day, every day, talking on their cellphones.

As I observed her, I wondered:  Who’s she talking to,  and why conduct a conversation for fifteen minutes or more this early in the morning?  At 6:30am, most people are either getting ready for work or are on their way to work.  What is that important that warrants a phone call this early?  Me?  I have all I can do to just get ready for work.  Don’t mix in a phone call ’cause that slows me down.

So, I have come to the conclusion that cellphones are the new security blanket. 

You need it, you gotta have it and you can’t live without it.

It used to be coffee was the new security blanket. For some folks, it still is.  The majority of people do the Java Jive on their way to work. Or at least five or six times a day.  Why do you see people rushing around like mindless freaks.  They’re hopped up on the bean.  And they have to keep feeding  their craving or the must endure the dreaded Caffeine Headache.  You just can’t give it up.  You have to be weaned off it.  The side effects are just not pretty.

I’m just on the outside looking in.  I don’t do Starbucks, Dunkin’ Donuts, or  Green Mountain Coffee.  I’m not a part of the culture. I just don’t drink that much coffee.  Ordering a coffee is too complicated.  I don’t care if it’s tall, short, extra foam, double-shot or not. I drink it only when I eat out for breakfast, preferrably at a local diner.  Just pour me a cup, give me the sugar and cream, and I’ll sip it while reading the paper and  waiting for my break fast to arrive.  

‘Nuff said.

Now, instead of folks clitching their cardboard cups of insulated mugs on their way to work, they clutch their cellphones.  That or they’re wedging the phone against their shoulder while going through the dive-thru, ordering a coffee.

What is the obcession with these phones?   Free texts, anytime minutes, these phones have all the gadgets.  And the applications.  Will these phones give you a wipe on your way out of the loo?  They’ll do everything else.

The rationale is “I need to be connected.  How else will people be able to get ahold of me?”  My philosophy is that it’s a phone.  You use it to call people.  You say what you need and get off the line.  If I have nothing to say, the phone stays in the pocket.  Why do I need to be connected?  What is so important?  I’ve seen grown men and women, on vacation, trying to relax and get away from their own piece of the rat race.  But they have their phones, with the Blu-Tooth earpiece, talking away.  They look like a more sporty version of the ragged man on the street that talks to himself.  And they talk LOUD, usually about things I really don’t need to know.  Aren’t you on vacation to get away from all that?  Why bring all that stress with you? 

What does it mean to be connected?  Is it the ability to reach someone in an emergency?  Is it the ability to call the restaurant ahead to find out the wait time for a table?  Is it to get directions to get to Aunt Shirley’s house? 

Or is it the ability to chat endlessly with someone who saw just a few hours ago?  What happened in that span of time that made that call so urgent?  Could it wait?  Maybe you might want to mix in some others details of events that happened while you were gone. 

Maybe you should’ve just turned off the phone.  So it doesn’t ring.  And you can do things without being interrupted.  Things that you can talk about with someone.

Or maybe you should try this novel idea:  take a walk, or get in your car, to go visit that friend.  Knock on the door and say, “Hi!  I thought I’d come over to see you and we could talk.”

It’s a pathetic world we live in when our idea of being connected to the people we care about  depends on technology.  Don’t misunderstand me:  I’ll all for the latest technological advances in telecommunications.  But when did “connected” just mean people at opposite ends  of a wire?  I can see using your computer, webcam and microphone to commuicate with someone far away.  But most of the people we, as a society, want to be connected to are in our own communities.  Some of them next door.

People used to sit outside their homes and talk with each other.  If your neighbor comes home from a trip, they’d go over to the house, once they saw the car in the drive, because they wanted to welcome them home and find out about the trip.  Folks would talk about their day while getting their mail at the post office.  The latest news and gossip would be shared face-to-face.  People knew you and spoke to you.  They recognized your face.  They gathered at  churche suppers, grange halls, fire stations and filling stations.  They were part of a communiity.

I know that the tech geeks will question this.  There is a community that technology creates.   Between Tweeter, emails, text messages and IM, the options are almost endless for communication. 

It’s all how you use that technology.  My response would be do we need to know everything that a person does at any given point to the day?  It’s the Facebook Syndrome.  Is it so important to communicate that “I am eating a piece of blueberry pie” as you are eating it?  Tell me about it when you’re finished, or better still, if you have any left over, bring it over and share it with me.

This could be easily misunderstood as a rant against technology.  I say, it’s a lament.  We are loosing the opportunites to create community.  It isn’t how many people are in your friends list.  It isn’t about how big your address book is, either.  It’s about caring about our friends, family and neighbors, enough so that we make the choice to make that connection, and give it meaning.

I dislike opening my email and finding forwards and endless jokes.  Sure, it’s nice to be remembered.  It’s a gesture.  But when was the last time you forwarded a joke, but also included a short note.  Something like, “Hi, I thought you might like a good laugh.  How are things?  Tell me what’s going on.”  It keeps it from being a part of a chain.  It’s a small gift.

We have been a society that has locked each other out.  We feel safe within our own four walls and we want to keep the rest of the world out.  Fewer and fewer families are sitting down to an evening meal to talk about their day.  We are so busy taking the kids to soccer ( or hockey or football or ballet or scouts), multi-tasking for charity, or fundraising, that we forget about what is the most important thing:   connecting with each other.

“Come on, people now/ smile on your brother/ everybody get together/Try to love one another right now” – Jesse Collin Young

“Reach out and touch somebody’s hand/Make this world a better place/If you can” – Diana Ross

Lights, camera, action

I intend to write another post later on, but I wanted to update on this week’s movies.

It’s a mixed bag;   “High Fidelity” with John Cusack and Jack Black.  I loved this as much as the book, but they changed the ending (thanks alot, Hollywood!).  I wasn’t expecting the plot to parallel some of the relationship stuff I’ve been sorting out, but it was what it was.

I also grabbed “The Hustler” with Paul Newman and Jackie Gleason.  I’ve always liked this movie, but don’t own it.  Finally, “The Commitments”.  The Ex- got dibs on this DVD, so I haven’t seen it in over two years.  I’m looking forward to the extras.

Good news from the librarian.  As I was checking out last night, I asked what the limit was on checking out DVD’s.  She said I could take out as many as I wanted.

Very cool!

Tommy, Can You See Me?

I’ve added a cool widget to my blog that allows me to see where my visitors are from.  If you see Portland, it’s just me at work, doing some maintainance on the blog between delivering floors.  But I am glad that you stopped in and I hope you return.

It appears, though, that some friends have visited.  I can tell by location.  Make yourself known!  I’d love to hear from you.  Also, spread the love and tell folks that might enjoy this blog.

Support Your Local Library

A couple hours to myself on a Sunday, so I head to the nearest library.

Why?

Because it’s AIR CONDITIONED!

It’s 90-degrees out there, and it’s really humid.  No, I will not suck it up.  It is my choice to find a cool place.   I’d be at the beach, but with Hurricane Bill raising a stink off the coast of Maine, the lifeguards are keeping people out of the water.  I’ll wait until after the sun goes down before I head to the beach.

Wait, I Think I Saw That Sock Move

I had a bachelor flashback this morning.

It didn’t hit me all at once.  I waited until the fog had lifted from my brain. I did not want to be awake.  It was bad enough that I had to be up at 5am, bad enough that the forecast called for hazy, humid  with a chance of showers AGAIN.  I stepped out of the shower, toweled off and took five steps to the bed, where my clothes were laid out.  Then it hit me. 

That Cosmic Dope Slap that makes you say, “Whoa”.

Understand this, my Hole In The Ground (a.k.a. my apartment) is a studio in the basement of my building.  I can stand in the doorway to the kitchen and see everything in my apartment.  I stopped and looked around.  I looked at a couple days worth of dishes piled in the sink, and at the books stacked at bedside.  I looked at the clean laundry neatly folded in the basket and the dirty laundry in an overflowing hamper, and I came to the conclusion it was like being 24 again.  It was the last time I lived alone.  Which means that I have regressed 24 years.

But I have better furniture this time around.  I have a queen-sized bed, lots of bookcases for my always-growing collection of books, a couch, a farmers table and chairs in the kitchen,  a couple chests of drawers, and a rocker that I have been meaning to throw out.  I really couldn’t throw it out.  Afterall, where would I put my clothes.  Everybody has a clothes magnet, a place where you toss your clothes while undressing for bed.  Mine is the rocker.

Lately my desire to cook has severly diminished.  I’m doing well if I can put a stir-fry together.  Last night for dinner I had beans, hot dogs and a home-brewed beer.  That’s what I call fine dining. 

It’s been hellish in My Hole in The Wall.  It’s because of the humidity. I just can’t get comfortable.   While watching Jeopardy, I was one thin layer of cotton away from wearing my birthday suit.  That’s one of the benefits of living alone.  You can take comfortable to another level.  But I would much rather have it cold than hot.  For me, hot is uncomfortable and you can only take off so many pieces of clothing.  If you’re cold, you can always add a layer.  I personally believe in heat conservation.  Share it with someone and you both benefit.

Now that I’m a bachelor redux, what’s different and why can’t I replicate it?  Let’s go back 24 years.  I lived alone.  I shopped, cooked and cleaned for one.  I had books and TV.  I went to the movies, spent time with friends, and worked.  I did everything then that I’m doing now.

So, why is it more difficult this time around?  Because, gentle reader, I have eaten the Fruit of Knowledge.  The difference being I have life experience.  I know the pain of starting over.  I know how challenging myself with this new life is sometimes difficult.  Moving forward has obsticles.  The trick is to recognize things for what they are and deal.  But there are also opportunities for me.  I can do anything, go anywhere, be what I want.  It’s frustrating because I WANT IT ALL NOW!! 

It’s not like that.  Take it slow.

It’s a recurring theme in this blog, but I get impatient sometimes.  I am challenged financially.  That will change over time, but I want it to be NOW.  This is why I love writing these posts.  I can clear out the junk and figure stuff out in writing.