Bad Words, and no vacay

Got a lot of Bad Words today. The more I read and watch, the more I gather.

“That’s out of my forte.”

One interviewee (YT documentary) used the words “satisfication” and “infestated.”

“the pilot ascends his helicopter” Another example of trying to use a fancier word and failing.

“It was shredded into pieces.” “Into pieces” not required.

“The wind would prove quintessential.” I think they were trying to say “unique” – it was about a tornado.

Winter storms are pushing in all of the country right now. We won’t get much snow, but we already have a lot of crazy wind. 4 degrees, wind chill minus 15. That’s a nope. I wish I could spend a week, five days even, somewhere warm. I’ve been to the Caribbean a handful of times. I liked St. Croix (spent a day there), Aruba (five-day honeymoon), and Puerto Rico. Ex and I went a few times when we were living together then married. He had good friends who had moved there – the husband was basically a local – and showed us a fine time off the beaten track. I have a real fondness for Puerto Rico.

When I was a little kid and going to public school, I had a lot of Puerto Rican classmates. Most of the Latinos in New York at that time were Puerto Rican. The first crush I can remember was on a little Puerto Rican boy named Fabian, with tan skin and slicked-down hair. So there’s a familiarity to the music and the way Spanish is spoken. I wish I could go there for a week every winter. A warm-weather vacation would set me right.

Even California would be fine, but I haven’t had an invite. BF is now talking about finding a pet-sit for us in this area, for spring or summer. Which I guess is OK, since I really can’t afford to fly there. But spring/summer will be a full year since we last saw each other. Really, I should be dating here.

Kitchen activity in this house is not pleasant during the cold weather. The back of the house – kitchen, laundry room, WC – is not heated. (Neither is the upstairs.) So I have to haul a space heater into the kitchen to wash dishes or cook. I’m putting a little more effort into cooking these days, but it’s a chilly business. But I need to get in there now, wash dishes and make something to eat. Cheese omelet, I think.

Reader

Nabe doesn’t let weather bother him. He’s out shopping today, and asked if there’s anything I need. (He already knew I would not go out in this weather.) All I truly needed was milk, but I also asked for cookies and for broccoli, which cancel each other out. Since I’ve been on Trulicity, an occasional cookie binge will not harm my health or even really spike my blood sugar. (In the summer, it’s generally ice cream.)

today’s Bad Words

I think I just have to call it all “Bad Words.” I’ve harvested a bumper crop since my last post.

“with whom it was based around.”

Graphic on football broadcast: DENVER BROCOS

Offset by this: one of the football announcers used the word “harbinger” correctly. Impressive.

“wreck havoc on the world”

“in the case of two consensual adults”

“his horse bolted away”

“I was fascinated with it.”

Now, here’s a great line I saw today on a social media site, author’s name unknown: “English is fifteen languages in a trench coat trying not to fall apart.”

This is what I do with my time while avoiding what I should be doing. And I’m not exactly sure what that is. I took care of a reasonable amount of business today, including the difficult Winter Shower. The upstairs here is not heated, and the upstairs bathroom is the coldest room in this entire house. Running around with a space heater is required, and it doesn’t end up being particularly comfortable. I don’t shower nearly enough in the winter.

I will tell you briefly that the cute little house I live in is a wreck. Roomie had a small inheritance and it made sense to his gf for him to buy something cheap instead of renting. So he bought the house very cheap, had to put in pipes and appliances, and then did absolutely nothing to maintain it. This is not someone who should be a homeowner. His gf suggested some years back that he should leave me this house. What I’m hoping right now is that he’ll put my name on the deed alongside his, and I will take over the bills here. He really doesn’t live here any more and feels burdened by the bills. I don’t want to move. This place could slowly be fixed up and be a very lovely home.

It all remains to be seen. That arrangement makes a lot of sense to me, and she’s very sensible, but he isn’t and never was. Not much interest in practical things. And of course he’s very slow-going now. Well, you know – stay tuned.

more Bad Language

I confess that I am often confused by the names for the parts and rules of grammar. But I guess I read enough as a kid, and spoke to enough well-spoken people, because I always know if something is wrong or inaccurate – and this does include misuse of words. (Pro tip: using big words doesn’t make you sound smart if you are misusing them.)

So I’m going to just call it all “Bad Language,” and here’s what I’ve gathered since I last wrote:

“His parents doted over him.” Should be “doted on,” not “over.” This is one where I don’t know what the rule is called – wait, it’s the adverb, right? Certain adverbs are linked to certain verbs? I have no idea. But I know that “over” is wrong and “on” is right, because I know it, and I’m 100% sure.

“[this recipe] is very versatile with seasoning.” I’m not sure if this is correct or not, but there’s got to be a better way to say, “this is a versatile recipe because you can season it any number of ways” – in a much shorter form than what I just wrote. It’s a shortcut that misfired.

“I’ve had plenty of learning curves in my life.” I think he was going for “I’ve been dealt a lot of curveballs in my life.” Or “I’ve had steep learning curves in a number of areas during my life.” This one gets a bit of a pass because he was 1) a professional athlete, and 2) a professional athlete who did not play baseball.

Lately, coming across these kinds of things gets on my nerves, instead of just cracking me up. And then I think I’ve become a fussy old lady, because it’s no longer important to nail grammar or spelling or writing or definition. Mix the metaphors! Scramble the idioms!

Oh shit, I am a fussy old lady.

sad

Roomie is suffering from dementia, and it’s progressing very quickly. When he went through a period of frustration, he yelled at me couple of times, which was not only bad behavior, but it was scary. He’s a big guy who can get loud (tho he’s usually very quiet), but not in any way violent. Still. Personality changes.

Lately, he mostly stays at his GF’s; I heard him tell her the other day that he only feels “safe” with her. (That’s not a dig at me – it’s his own fear.) So mostly now, he comes to do some laundry (GF doesn’t have a dryer or to pick up something he needs.

He was here yesterday, and like the time he stopped in some days back, he was very needy and very affectionate. He’s also cried both times. And has hugged me a good deal, which is nice.

When I moved here, in July 2020, I asked if it would be OK to hug occasionally, since I hadn’t touched another human being in months. So that was nice – it did me some good. We don’t do it often now but we do it some, out of affection. But it’s rare that he initiates it (he’s constantly afraid of doing the wrong thing in all areas of his life).

I don’t think I’ll be an important resource from hereon in, but I’m glad when I can do something. I’ve never really been close-up with someone who had dementia. It’s very, very sad. I cry, too.

dentist

My neighbor and I (call him Nabes) shop a couple of times a month in the Bulk Store – stuff in bins. But they also have some interesting gourmet items, plus a shelf of hard-to-find candy. They have Clark Bars and Chunkys. So I bought a 100,000 Bar the other day. Alas, the caramel had its way with one of my three-tooth bridges.

I went to the dentist today, which is a very different experience than I’m used to. For one thing, it’s a clinic, so there’s no “my dentist.” (That’s pretty much been the case with every specialist I’ve seen here except my primary.) They don’t use film for the x-rays any more, and the tech doesn’t have to go a block away behind a seven layer metal door. I still had to wear the lead vest, but he stood right next to me.

I’ve also discovered that a cup and little tap and spit sink are antique.

The dentist I saw in Brooklyn, before I moved here five years ago, had a very minimal office. The old-school x-ray set-up, and a spit sink. He also had no receptionist and no computer. He’d answer a phone call while I was in the chair and hondle with some guy over the price of gloves. He was Orthodox, as were a lot of his patients, and he kept prices low. The bridges cost me $1,200 each.

Dr. Kadaa was very fond of the ex and me. The first time I saw Kadaa, my ex had to come with me and hold my hand. I have a “low threshold of pain” in my mouth, and my longtime dentist Steve Markow used to see. (When I was a kid, and Brooklyn Heights was still something of a village, everyone went to Dr. Markow. Steve was in business with his father, so you’d have to ask if someone saw old Dr. Markow or young Dr. Markow. He was cool because he had a mustache and played WNEW-FM on the radio in his office.

Anyway, Dr. Kadaa became very fond of us. He was a family guy, which is basically the case with observant people. Sometimes I’d go in and he’d be on the phone with his son in Israel, demanding to know where he was going for Shabbat. (The one thing I didn’t know I’d miss when I moved to Detroit are Jews. There are basically none here. There are many in ritzy suburbs outside the city, but Detroit is only 2% Jewish. As a lifelong New Yorker, it’s really weird not having Jews around.

Dr. Kadaa was heartbroken when the ex and I broke up. He tried his hand at a little counseling. After the divorce, I got my bridges, one of which was to correct my pointy vampire teeth, third teeth in. I love that one a lot; got to smile big again.

I heard from the ex that Dr. Kadaa’s marriage broke up. That’s a shame and not very usual. I imagine that Orthodox men are pretty helpless without a wife, but the community will find someone. If you believe, it can be a nice life filled with supportive people; but you have to swallow some pretty sexist shit to be an observant Jew.

bad narration

I watch a lot of documentaries and mini-docs, and am constantly in awe of the bad writing, bad grammar, misuse of words, and overall verbal cloddishness of the “journalists” who present these stories. It’s hard to keep track of them all, but I’m going to try to scribbles them down as I hear them and share a few.

“I think their mutual respect goes both ways.”

“It was like a human Congo line.”

I’m super-hating WordPress this morning. Now I can’t even find where to change fonts and sizes. All I want to do is set the font and size, and be able to post photos and links to videos – and then just type. Why should it be so hard?

Accepting all suggestions for a different service.

I promised

I think I kind of made a resolution to write every day. Dumbass. Already missed two days. So it won’t all be finely crafted essays. (The crafting isn’t the hard part – choosing a topic is.)

Which is pretty much all there is to say about me as a writer: lots of skills, no ideas. This is why, tho I think I have slightly better chops that my bf, he’s more accomplished. He was able to figure out what to write about, and had people who asked him to write things. It’s not a contest but I think it’s the first time I’ve been involved with a writer (or someone who is primarily a writer).

Every time I start using this site again, the interface seems to be totally different, and all I want to do is set my font, write, and post some photos and links. I had a hassle today figuring out how NOT to have to set my font in each new paragraph, but I still have to set the font size every time I hit enter. Maybe next time I’ll figure out links and photos.

minor league baseball tee shirts

The Lubbock Crickets (very vintage).

Binghamton Rumble Ponies. Binghamton is known for it’s vintage carousels. They had a contest to name the team (I think only kids could enter). One little girl said she had a dream about a carousel horse that came down from the carousel, and it was a “rumble pony.” Sure beats the old name, Binghamton Mets.

The Las Vegas 51s (no longer exists). Named for Area 51.

Lansing, MI. This one I own; bought it because I love the dizzy mascot.

This is arriving today. The team is named for the historic Horseshoe Curve train track in the city.

This was a prize of my collection. The Staten Island Yankees (they no longer exist) decided one summer that they would be the Pizza Rats at their home game that season. I wore that sucker for years, but it’s now way too big. I have it to my BF because he loved it.

I also have a South Bend Cubs shirt, which doesn’t stand out much, but the team no longer exists, and I found it at a thrift store for a couple of bucks.

I really want that Rumble Ponies shirt; also the Crickets shirt, tho it’s pretty damaged.

My tee shirts are a thing. A collection. A very large part of my wardrobe. When I was losing weight (lost 35 lbs a couple of years ago), I bought a variety of cheap clothes, which I soon realized had nothing to do with my life. I simply started dressing like I did in high school: jeans, tee shirts, flannel shirts, sneakers or sandals. I did not keep most of my XL tee shirts, tho I have some around to sleep or work out in. I bought a bunch of Levi’s, but basically only wear three of them. The new tee shirts are men’s S, which are tight over my little chest. Tight clothes are a new thing for me. I have a waistline now. (I gain weight like a man, so when I was heavy I had a big gut but my tits were still tiny.)

Starting to buy new tee shirts has been pretty fun – well, really fun. Didn’t take me long to have too many again,. They’re not all photographed, but eventually will be. At some point, I’m going to sell a few old ones which are probably valuable: two old Holy Modal Rounders, and a Michael Hurley from 1994 that is pristine (only wore it a couple of times a year, and I’ve never seen another like it).

My wrist hurts, I need shopping, I need the gym. I feel like the bf and I are kind of cooled off… I don’t feel much of a spark. But I haven’t seen him since early June. Don’t have a long-distance relationship if you can avoid it. This one even started out long-distance. It’s been more like a spread-out string of honeymoons rather than anything present and continuing. But he’s not the settle-down type anyway. Thinks a committed relationship would take away his “freedom” – which does mean dating around. It means doing whatever he wants whenever he wants, and breaking rules he wants to break until he’s caught. Kind of entitled, you know. But for the most part, we’re a great match. Does that sound stupid? Sounds a little stupid to me.

On the other hand, the last bf, on-and-off for many years, was also a lot to put up with.

BTW, this is kind of my switch-off from politics. I spend all the rest of my time reading and sweating and worrying. I’m not ignoring the fact that the country and the world are in desperate trouble. Just palate-cleansing with tee shirts and boyfriend.

I’m sick of reviewing

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I don’t write reviews professionally any more, and I’m trying to live my third third as a less judgey person. I’ve seen friends look a bit surprised when I get mean about a singer or movie. I can just not like it without a stack of insults. It’s really hard to get out of the habit.

Instead, I’m trying to figure out how to move my life out of a dilapidated shared house in Detroit, where I’ve been staying with an old friend after being priced out of my hometown. As kind as it was for my friend to invite me to stay here, he does not maintain his house in any way and it’s starting to fall apart, As is he – alas, dementia has been coming on, which is both sad and infuriating.

I’m also trying to refrain from going on and on about specific political shit, because I do that on Bluesky. So just remember that I’m writing this in a country that’s well on its way to becoming a dictatorship.

I always wondered why Jews in Germany simply didn’t just pretend to be non-Jewish. I get it now. This is the point where I could think about some pretending, but those trains (not just denying my race but denying my politics) have already left the station. Can’t wipe the internet. It’s never 100% safe to be a Jew anywhere, I’ve always known that – but I didn’t think America would turn into THIS.

So yes, I came to stay with a friend in Detroit because it was the pandemic and I had no money and had to leave my Brooklyn apartment. It was my only choice; friends who had offered me a place to stay in Albany took back the offer. What I didn’t count on is that it’s impossible to live here without a car. I expected the bus system to be useful, but it isn’t at all. I have never driven and am somewhat scared of it, and I’m so resentful that my life is so closed-down because of it.

And now I know what it’s like to live in a food desert. In walking distance, I have: a dollar store, a “party store” (convenience store that is mostly liquor and lottery tickets), a pharmacy, one “Coney Island” (=diner), and a you-buy-we-fry fish place. (You-buy-we-fry is a way for people to get around the prohibition on using SNAP to buy cooked food. You buy the raw fish with SNAP, and they cook it for you “as a favor.” Too bad no one gets SNAP this month.) There’s also an urgent care and car parts and car repair. It’s kind of cruddy, the little shopping stretch, and the pavements are all broken because pedestrians are a low form of life around here.

I can’t visit New York any more because I have no place to stay. Used to stay with the only friends I had there who were rich enough to have the space for overnight guests. They canceled a visit I was supposed to make in three weeks; their daughter, who lives with them, is a teacher and was having a problem with one kid and was upset and crying all the time. I was assured it wasn’t personal, they weren’t having any guests. A couple months later, at Christmas, I said to the husband, “I guess Zoe [daughter] is glad it’s Christmas break.” He asked why. I said, “she’s getting a break from that awful kid.” He said, “Oh, that kids transferred out.” I asked if they were having houseguests again, and he said, “No – uh, another bad kid could transfer in at any time.” I said, “So you’re not having any houseguests until Zoe retires from the school system?” (I should mention that their house is always filled with houseguests – they can sleep seven apart from the family.) He didn’t answer. So I was being lied to, it WAS personal, and I had no idea what it was about. She never called me again. I kept asking him to tell me the truth. He wouldn’t, and suddenly was not returning calls or emails on the regular. (Did I mention that he’s been my friend since the late 70s?) I gave him one more chance to tell the truth, which he did not, and I just told him to fuck off. How are we supposed to fix a problem or issue if they won’t admit there is one? I’m not at an age where I can afford to lose friends, but I can’t tolerate being lied to, or having some strange problem floating around that I have no way to solve. It hurt a lot to lose those friends. It sucks not to be able to visit NYC. It sucks to be stuck in Detroit. I can’t get a job without a car, and I can’t move out without bringing in some money.

Current fantasy: my stepmother does the right thing and leaves me half her money. (My dad didn’t even leave life insurance for my brother and me. And yes, they were somewhat well-off.) Then I will get my ass a license, buy a good car, and buy a little lake house in southwestern Michigan (with a few bedrooms so I can have guests). Rest of the money buys an annuity. I enjoyed that area of the state when the BF and I were there; there are also lovely places up north, but it’s COLD there. There are so many lakes in the state that there are lake houses in every price range. I saw a nice one online with three bedrooms for about $225K.

Don’t get me wrong – there’s a lot of nice stuff in and around this area. Detroit is not a bad city. It’s just that it’s so spread out, and impossible to get around without a car. A couple of weeks ago, I had a concert ticket and was going by myself; Uber ran me $50 there and back. I’m lucky to have some good friends living two doors down, and we do a lot together: he and I go to the gym three times a week, and shop together, including Eastern Market (huge-ass farmer’s market) on Saturday mornings. (I’m getting to like couple-friends.) He went to high school and college with the BF, which is how I met him. (Alas, BF lives across the country and the relationship is kind of fading over the distance.) I love my neighbors. I love my (infuriating) roomie and his GF. They’re pretty much my only friends here, and I’m grateful for them.

It’s not the same, of course, from the old friends I left behind. Lost all of the acquaintance, too – that nice guy you always saw in the elevator, the pharmacist, the woman on the block with the adorable dog, the friendly pharmacist. Lost my trusted doctors, my favorite restaurants, the convenience of being able to go pretty much anywhere without a car. I’m keeping up as best I can with two old friends there, and one in New Jersey, one in Texas. It’s not a big group. Losing that couple in New York is really killing me; I’m never going to get the chance to have another 45-year friendship. But you can’t be friends with people who don’t want to be your friend.

The lying is really the worst. I hate being lied to because the liar is assuming that I’m stupid enough to swallow the lie. It makes me very angry, apart from being sad. My friend should have known – no, he absolutely DID know – that I was too smart to buy what he was trying to sell. I could probably let go of this more easily if I knew what it was about. Instead, I torment myself, guessing what might have caused it, arguing in my head… I just wish they’d have fucking said, “I don’t like you any more” or “I didn’t like it when you said such-and-such.” My BF, sad to say, is also a conflict-avoider.

I wish I could tell them all to grow the fuck up.