Bad Words on a cold day

Two podcast hosts come across a distance measured in kilometers, and are trying to figure out if it’s more or less than miles. One says, “I don’t know the exchange rate.”

It’s cold. I don’t like cold. Haven’t been out for days, since I also just had several days of bad depression. I seem to be slightly better today, mood-wise, so even tho it’s 11 degrees (windchill -1), I’m going out grocery-shopping with Nabe. I couldn’t talk to anyone for a few days (I like it really silent when I’m depressed), but I do miss him and I know he misses me. He doesn’t have anyone else he hangs out with like we do. I always think about how friendship can be nourishing for me, but I forget that it goes both ways. I figure other people mostly tolerate me.

I’m still very much obsessed with Victor, or rather, his actions. It’s an old long story, but the current issue is that he and his wife have lied to me and told me they are no longer having overnight guests. I don’t know why they have gone sour on me, since they both said it wasn’t personal. Except that it is. They still have plenty of houseguests, I don’t know why I’m shut out, and I can’t visit New York City because I don’t know anyone else with room for guests. (Victor & Sherry’s loft can accommodate seven guests at once.) I gave him a year to come clean (Victor is the one who is my primary friend – we go back to the 70s), and he refused.

I have speculated a lot as to how this came about, tho I’m hesitant to share it because I know it’s made-up stuff in my head. I’m fairly sure it’s her issue and she instructed him not to tell me so or to explain in any way. I’m not 100% sure what her problem is. She’s been both mean and lovely to me.

I’ll feel horrible if I start rehashing the details just now – and there are so many details, being that Victor and I have been entangled for so many years. It’s been way past “pals” since the start. And now it seems to be nothing. And I can’t let go of it because I still don’t know what happened. And mostly, I’m afraid I’ll never see him again, as he’s 20 years my senior, which now puts him well over 80. I would like to have time to reconcile. But if Sherry has indeed found some fault with me, I’ll never be able to go back there, and she’s probably bad-mouthed me to every person in the tri-state area. She’s like that. I know from the things she’s said to me about other people. It’s not good.

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.