nerds, netflix

School's out. Monday was the last day of spring semester. I had a final meeting with a tutee, because nothing like a last minute cram sesh. 

So, after a whirlwind of tuting and testing - the two areas where I work - the tuting's come to an abrupt halt. Not gonna lie, I feel a bit rutterless. At least testing is still hopping. We typically get a wave of testers at semester's end. Newly pinned EMT's getting their certifications, educators getting their licenses, etc.

On Tuesday...

Magnum: No more tutoring?

Me: *SIGH*, not until summer session starts... but in the meantime... (gesturing to the whiteboard, because, yes, we have a whiteboard).

I'd put up a thought provoking math problem, to keep our brains exercised, nerd that I am. Nerd that he is, he couldn't wait to try to solve it.

Since that, there've been more brain teasers appearing on the whiteboard. Some from me, some from him. I had to get more markers, we'd expended the others.

So this is what happens when nerds collide, get hitched. This, and that offspring who liked to do experiments and once blew stuff up and melted a poop bucket - but at least it was outside the house - and that's another story.

Meanwhile, we finished the Netflix series Four Seasons since it was getting a lot of hype. 

It was... all right. It's about a group of friends, 3 married couples, who take regular vacations together. One of the husbands asks for and gets a divorce, then takes up with a much younger "girlfriend", thus changing the vacation group dynamic. It's based on the 1981 movie, which I've never seen.

It was entertaining enough. I didn't always relate to the characters as I found them too neurotic in general. But it did remind me of a couple I met years ago. 

J and A were good friends with Magnum's dad and stepmom. The four of them went on vacations together, etc. Then it turned out that husband J was having an affair on wife A with a younger woman. 

J and A got divorced, and J eventually married the other woman. I remember FIL telling us they'd received an invitation to J's wedding.

"I threw it in the trash!", he said with a chuckle.

I didn't know my FIL that well yet at the time, and I remember him moving up a few rungs on the moral ladder in my mind with that remark. 

But really, I think I may have gotten more into that other viral Netflix series - Tiger King. 

This concerns me a little. 

sloughing

 The view outside my window:

Last week, we were out in the sunshine, whooping it up at Bucee's, now we've got snow, a.k.a. "April Showers".

It's probably my fault. I'd put most of my cold weather clothes away and shook out the summer stuff to be greeted with highs in the 30s. 

Oh well, good moisture happening. Good for the plants and all the way up the food chain.

This was another good week that was. Got in some PEO, some testing, some tuting, checking things off the to-do.

Yesterday, I went for a haircut, and my stylist was making the small-talk that she does when she mentioned something about her "ex-husband", which took me a bit aback. All this time I've been going to her for cuts, the husband's always been "husband", not "ex-".

So I was curious but not that curious. I don't really know her that well. I pop in for a 30-minute cut every couple of months, so there's not a whole lot of dishing to be done. And it's not like she just came out with "I'm getting a divorce", she nonchalantly mentioned the ex-husband in reference to some general thing, like he'd been an ex for a long time. And I know she's only had one husband, so this had to be that guy.

Honestly, I'm not a super chatty person. In fact, I'd be perfectly happy to just sit while she cuts, no words needed. But I know others who like the social aspect of going to the stylist. I think it's something stylists are aware of, so they make conversation out of obligation. I can go along with it if I must.

So, should I have asked what's up with the "ex-"? Or just let the comment go by, like I did, not to be nosy. A couple of months ago, he was a several-years husband. 

I did wonder about her daughter, though. She's the youngest kid and still in high school. What does she think of this ex business? Right smack dab in the middle of prom season? This too shall pass.

I finished up my scheduled physical therapy sessions. Not surprisingly, Dr. J tried to sell me some more, but I think I'm good for now. Not quite feeling like a 17-year-old again, but good enough not to throw any more money at the troubles for now. 

I'm happily running again, slow AF, but it kind of looks like running.

what's her face

She interviewed me, hired me, promoted me, then promoted me again - my boss from my job prior to me leaving to work at my current job. 

She'd been a good boss, I liked working for her, and I think it's safe to say she liked having me as an employee. I was a dietary supervisor at a full nursing facility where she was the dietary manager. Shortly before I left, she'd left for an administrative position at a largish senior living facility.

When I applied for my current job at the college, she served as a key reference. We kept in touch for a while after going our separate ways, but that died off as such things tend to do.

I've been working at the college for a little over two and a half years now. Yesterday, I got into work, looked over the list of people scheduled to come in for testing, and a certain name caught my eye. It was the same name as that former boss.

"Is it her?", I wondered. Her name is not particularly unique, but she spells her first name slightly different than is typical. 

Sure enough, PB (previous boss) came a-walkin' in at the appointed time. I recognized her by her hair and voice - which may sound funny, but when we worked together, we were deep in the throes of the covid pandemic, at a nursing facility no less.

Meaning, we were always fully masked and often moreso. I sometimes saw the faces from afar of coworkers as we took our socially distanced lunch breaks together. But the boss didn't eat lunch with us. I'd never actually seen her whole face and vice versa.

So, she came in yesterday, and I was all,

"Hey, I wondered if that was you on our roster!"

And she was all *as I imagine from the look on her unfamiliar whole face* "who the hell are you and why are you talking to me like that?", not to be fully attributed to test anxiety.

Pandemic Abby

I stated my name and the place we used to work, THEN she remembered me. We acknowledged the whole mask thing.

I recall one time I went in to speak with her about something on a day off, and she marveled at how different I looked. Although I was still masked, I wasn't wearing my hair band.

So, I see why I was so unrecognizable yesterday - no mask, no hair band - just out there, free range, spreading and absorbing whatever's in the air with my whole face.

And honestly, if I hadn't seen her name, I doubt I would've have recognized her either.

baby maybe

"I'm gonna take the kids up to Horsetooth (reservoir) tomorrow. They've been really good with their school work lately", she told me. 

This was a typical thing for my coworker, CC, to make. She often commented on "the kids" and what they were up to.  I worked with CC at the nursing home. She was assigned to train me on my second day at that job. 

She was 16 years young.

She was 16 and seemingly more mature and responsible than a lot of "grown ups" I've known. Because she was still in high school, her hours were limited at work, but she had proven herself over the previous seven months to be reliable and responsible.  Our managers often tapped her to train new people.

"When I first started working here, I was really uncomfortable, and didn't want to come back. But I made myself keep it up, and now it's okay", she confided to me. 

As with some of the other teens I worked with at the old folks' home, CC activated my maternal instincts. I worried about her working too hard, about her taking too much responsibility for "the kids" - her younger siblings. Later, when I would become her supervisor, she'd sit in the office with me after she'd clocked out and tell me stories about her "crazy" and large extended family.

And I always enjoyed working with CC. As her supervisor, I knew I never had to worry about her slacking off or not following certain protocols - this was in the peak days of covid. There were a LOT of protocols to follow.  We went through a lot of crap together, literally. We got our covid shots at the same time, hanging out for the 15-minute wait-and-see periods. 

I only remember one time CC was late to work. This was alarming, because she was so responsible. I worriedly texted her. Turns out she was so tired after doing her homework the night before, she had inadvertently set her alarm on her calculator.

Yeah, there is no alarm on her calculator.

Around the time I left to take my current job at the college, our then-manager left for a new position at a larger, more upscale senior living establishment. She intelligently recruited CC away to the new place with her. CC and I have kept in touch sporadically since going our separate ways nearly two years ago. 

Earlier this week, I pulled up my facebook, and there was CC, all aglow. All pregnant in photos from her weekend baby shower.  She and her boyfriend looking happy, but SO so young. 

I congratulated her and told her she looks beautiful, which is true. I always figured she'd make a good mom someday, but I've got mixed feelings that it's happening this soon. She is now 19.

Well... at least she's got the crazy and large extended family?

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Linking up this week with Mama Kat for the prompt:

4. Write a blog post inspired by the word: late

what's the point?

Last Monday, I was happily pedaling to work, thinking about nothing in particular, when the thought came to me: "stop the beers".  

I'm not a big drinker by any means. Remember when my kids were afraid I'd get trashed after one shot? That was a bit extreme, but they weren't totally wrong. I haven't been truly drunk in a long long time.

However, somewhere along the last couple years, Magnum and I started drinking a beer each night at dinnertime. I say "a" beer as in one beer between the two of us - so around 6 oz. apiece. I don't remember why or when the habit started, it just did. 

It really has no noticeable effect on me, so I decided just not to do it anymore. That voice in my head.

Later, I consulted this little productivity image I saved in Pinterest a while back (then never looked at again, like a lot of things I save in Pinterest...). 

I noticed the 20th thing, corresponding with Monday's date, was to eliminate a habit. 

Aha, further prompting!

So I stopped the beers. Magnum did too, his choice. 

Now I'm looking to other things from the list I can easily do.

I kind of did a #22 with a new tutor student who talked the coordinator at the college into tutoring even though the semester is two thirds finished.

I agreed to squeeze her into my calendar. I won't go into detail, but she semi showed up for our first scheduled zoom, not at all prepared for a tutoring session. 

She asked if we could reschedule, and it was such a surprising request after she'd seemed so needy, I said "uh... okay?" and agreed to meet at an even more inconvenient-to-me time.

But then I slept on it, and decided "wait a minute, no!", after I'd set aside a time that she'd agreed to, then she decided to nope out and try a last minute change. So...

22. "stop doing" - going out of my way to over-accommodate grown ass adults.

furries

I was enjoying an indulgent bicycle joyride earlier this week, rounded a corner, and oh deer. 

She decided she didn't want to socialize with me and left, but not before I was able to snap a quick pic.

I'm done with COVID, or it's done with me as well as the rest of the family. Because of the 4th of July holiday, I only missed one day of work. My coworkers expressed their appreciation and bestowed this card upon my return.

Inside says "Mew got this!" because we're all a bit crazy cat people.

They joked that the original intent was to mail it to my sick bed, but since I survived, they just handed it to me.

Boss said, "We talked and realized: you ride your bike to work, exercise, eat healthy foods, and you're the first of us to get COVID. So yeah, we're not gonna do any of that stuff"

Meanwhile, we also had three dogs for a week. Chaco's dog stayed with us while he was out of town, so some extra walking time. Ella's a good pooch, and I think Merlin was mildly depressed when she left to go back home.

Speaking of pets and crazy cat people, coworker Party Girl got a cat for her cognitively challenged dad. He loves the cat, but isn't so good at taking care of her. In the meantime, Party Girl has one dog, and her husband had made it clear from the get go that he doesn't want any more pets.  

He's smart enough to see that this is Party Girl's backdoor way of getting a cat. The plot thickens. Who will prevail?

Oh... the drama.

at the home

"She's gonna say something like, 'Wow, you've been busy in the kitchen!' when we take her lunch in".

It was my first day working as a nutrition aide at the nursing home. I was shadowing Matt, a college student and fellow nutrition aide. Barb, one of the residents, was in her room seated in her wheelchair, focused on her TV.

"Hey, Barb. Lunchtime!", Matt announced.

"Oh boy! Somebody's been busy in the kitchen!", Barb replied as if on cue. I smiled to myself, thinking of what Matt had just told me.

Matt introduced me while he got Barb situated for her lunch. She was a typical looking frail old woman in a nursing home. But my eyes were instantly drawn to the wall behind her where several family photos had been hung. 

In one, I saw a strikingly beautiful woman, clearly Barb in her younger years. It was a black-and-white family portrait of Barb, her husband, and their four kids. Barb's eyes and posture conveyed a keen intellect and sure confidence. It was one of my first meetings of the residents I would get to know over the next several months, and seeing that photo of Barb reminded me that each of them had lived rich, full, and vibrant lives before arriving at the nursing home.

Like Barb, most every resident had photos on display of their earlier lives. I appreciated that I could see them as more than old and frail and dependent.

Another woman, Norma, had a skillfully done original oil painting of Mount of the Holy Cross hanging in her room, and I asked where she'd gotten it.

"I had a friend who was an artist. She wanted a birthday cake for her mother's 90th birthday, but all the bakeries wanted a ridiculous price for what she wanted. So I told her I'd make the cake, which I did. She so appreciated it, she gave me the painting", Norma explained.

"A few years ago, the friend asked if I would will the painting for her daughter to receive after I die. My daughter said, 'Don't you dare!' since it was rightfully my painting to bequeath.  MY daughter will get it!", she said with a giggle.

I've been gone from the nursing home for a little over a year now. I keep in touch with some of my former coworkers, and they often catch me up on who has since passed away.

I learned that Norma died last winter, and I remember fondly the conversations we had and how she had such a positive light and sharp intellect despite her physical limitations. I remember how she'd write little "reviews" on her meal tickets because she knew the dieticians collected them for tracking. 

The eggs were just right, and Lena was so pleasant as always...

I'm thinking of that oil painting and how it stays in Norma's family.

Back to Barb, I recall  one day, she said to me, "I'm going to be 69 years old in November!"

I replied, "Really? We'll definitely celebrate!", but in my mind, I knew "You're going to be 99 years old in November"

As the oldest resident, Barb did in fact make it to 99 years old last November. Everyone wondered - will she make it to 100?

Two weeks ago, she fell short of 100 years by 5 months.

For Norma and Barb and all the rest, I'm thankful for the little specks of time we had. I honestly didn't expect much when I took the job, but it was fulfilling in many ways.  And eventually, it'll be my turn to go to the other side.

Until then, I guess I'll just keep busy in the "kitchen".

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Linking up this week with Mama Kat for the prompt:
3. Write a blog post inspired by the word: bond

kids, I tellya

He's not the first childhood friend I remember, but one of the first and most lasting. I distinctly remember hanging out with Daniel since first grade and all the way through high school.  

I mainly think of him as being a bit wild and adventurous. Ours was a small town, and I think we all knew he was gay from early on. But sexual preference wasn't discussed much back then other than to be teased and bullied, and he got bullied a lot.

But he had a flair for drama and liked attention. Honestly, he wasn't all that talented, but he was so confident and bold that it didn't matter. I remember him doing an oil painting of a prominent feature in our hometown, maybe before we were even in high school.  It looked rightfully amateurish, but he framed it and strode into big furniture store in the heart of downtown and asked the owner to display his painting in the window.  I can still see that rather ghastly painting sitting prominently among the furniture display for a good week or more. 

The two of us hung out a lot while growing up despite our many differences such as:

• He was the 6th child out of 7 in a large, loud Catholic family.  My family was subdued in comparison, and I have two older brothers.
• He struggled academically and was a class clown. I was a "good kid" who got good grades and participated in clubs and sports and stuff. 

Honestly, he was not the best influence on me. With him, I ditched classes, drove a car before really knowing how to drive, traipsed around on unsafe river ice, and other things it's best my parents never knew.

He was highly creative, and our art geekiness was the glue to our friendship.  By the time we were in 8th grade, he and I were somehow enrolled in an art "class" established just for us at school - then known as junior high - where he and I were basically TAs for the art teacher. I honestly don't remember how that came about, but there we were in a highly unstructured environment at the ripe age of 13.

HS art club 
Abby - front row, second from left
Daniel - front row, far right

It was like Art School Confidential, the two of us just having our way with all the art supplies for an hour or so each school day.  As for hall passes and teacher permissions? PffffT! The art teacher was a rather stereotypical public school art teacher - not much for structure and protocol.

Our paths diverged a bit in high school, but we still often hung out.  He'd discovered marijuana which added more fuel to his non-conformist fire. But he never drank, wouldn't touch the stuff. Both his parents were alcoholics, and he wanted nothing to do with booze. We lost touch after high school.

We managed to touch base a few years ago and we friended each other on fbook as people do. Sometimes he would rant incoherently about politics, and I eventually removed him from my feed. He ultimately left the platform, either willingly or was kicked out. 

In recent years, I've received linkedin.com invites from him to connect.  Not personal invites, but ones that look like he just clicked the option to send invites to anyone and everyone he might remotely know on linkedin. 

His linkedin profile is characteristically strange, filled with grammatical errors, and, I think (hope), sarcasm. I ignore the requests.

I got a text from him a few weeks ago. He seems better. He told me how he moved back to our hometown, hoping to open a fine dining restaurant but has struggled with various things regarding the hometown.  I'm not surprised, our hometown has "issues".

But being there jogged his memories of our childhood adventures and inspired him to contact me. His texts mention his gratefulness to God for various blessings. Over all the years I've known him, he's vacillated between extreme bible thumper and zealous atheist.  Apparently he's in a bible thumper phase now.  Will it last?

I've enjoyed our texting conversations, remembering who we were back then - naive kids exploring the boonies, frolicking in our freedoms. 

It was Daniel I called upon when my HS boyfriend turned up the drama. And it was Daniel I called upon that fateful day when I needed to break into a neighbor's house. He was the obvious life line. I reminded him, last week, of that particular breaking-and-entering adventure. 

He remembered it well and replied, "That's what happens when you have an Italian gangster as a best friend".

That's what happens.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Linking up this week with Mama Kat for the prompt:

5. Tell us about the first childhood friend you remember. Do you still keep in touch?

surf's up

"Would it be considered harassment if a coworker or supervisor attempts to stop me from filing a claim of harassment against another party?"

My coworker, Party Girl, posed this question to me last week while well within earshot of our full-time coworker, Bugs.  Bugs is not in a supervisory role, but when Boss is gone, Bugs is typically put in charge. Boss happened to be out of town when things were going down with Nurse Ratched.

Party Girl, another coworker we'll call Betty, and I had dug around and found the official HR form for submitting a claim of harassment.  We decided to each submit our point of view of the Nurse Ratched situation, and Bugs attempted to discourage us from doing so.  The question was Party Girl's cute and clever way of telling Bugs his "advice" was not needed.

"Pretty sure the answer is 'YES!' as we all learned from our mandatory harassment training", I promptly replied as we all gave Bugs the side eye.

He backed off after that.  

To summarize, Boss did something we all (except for maybe Boss) agreed was inappropriate (not sexual, nothing like that) with a student.  That student went to her instructor - Nurse Ratched - to complain about Boss and ask for some leniency on the exam she took with us since she was feeling frazzled while she worked on the exam.

Nurse Ratched, understandably, became upset with Boss and complained to... somebody.  I really don't know what all happened after that as I don't have a need to know.  But because of the incident between Boss and Student, Nurse Ratched decided to bully, judge, and demean all of us, even though she's never dealt with anyone other than Boss, other than that one incident.

And THAT is when it became a problem for Party Girl, Betty, and me.  Nurse Ratched's abuse toward us seemed to be persistent and escalating, so the three of us each decided to get our two cents in.  

Bugs tried to stop us, saying, "It's already being handled" - referring to the Boss/ Student/ Nurse Ratched incident.

We disagreed as it had spilled over to baselessly involve us three underlings.  This was a new situation for handling.

Anyway, we felt good about telling our sides of the story and get confirmation from the honcho in HR who handles these things.  Honestly, I wasn't expecting much, but I guess something happened.  Nurse Ratched has been cordial in her subsequent communications.  Dare I say, apologetic, even?

Sheesh, in all my years, I'd never felt a need to submit a report of harassment or anything else to a Human Resources department. Kids, I tellya.

I feel good that we didn't just cower and hope it goes away.  I'm glad we spoke up for ourselves despite Bugs' attempts to stop us.  

Bugs is a nice enough guy, but doesn't like making waves. We more or less told him, too bad, you're in the deep end of the pool with the big girls now.

And to this day, I still haven't even met Nurse Ratched in-person.  

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Linking up this week with Mama Kat for the prompt:

5. Write a blog post inspired by the word: proud

trippy and trapped

We watched a couple of movies this weekend.  I liked them both... I think?  I mean, I think I liked them, but at the same time, I'm not quick to recommend either.  Explain.

First was Mayday, a story about... about... about.  Well, see there's the problem.  What did I just watch?

It's billed as "drama, fantasy, mystery".  I have since come up with a theory on what I watched, but this is one of those movies where it's never explicitly stated or shown just what. is. going. on.  Fantasy and dreamlike fer sher, it sort of reminded me of the lost boys in Peter Pan except it's girls.  

And the girls live on a U-boat.  With a bunch of guns and such.

I'm sure there are people who hated it, but it held my attention well enough because it had me thinking about what the meaning of it was.  It seemed rather drug-trippy, not that I've been on any drug trips personally, but what I imagine a drug trip might be like... which feeds my theory on what it was really about.  

I don't think it was necessarily a "man-hater" movie, although it certainly hints at it.  I think that would be reading too much into it.  

Mia Goth's portrayal of Marsha, the leader of this strange "army", was really good.  The other performances weren't anything to blog home about.  

I'll give Mayday  2 or 2.5 stars AT MOST out of 5.  ⭐⭐🟊🟊🟊.  I'll leave it at that so as to not spoil it for anyone who decides to check it out.  

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Next up was Unsane.  Whew! Whatta ride.  

Claire Foy plays a woman who is unwillingly admitted to a locked psychiatric institution.  The whole time I was watching, I was wondering, "is she truly 'crazy'?  Or is everyone around her trying to convince her she's 'crazy'?", and "Am I 'crazy'?"  

Like, Mayday, I wasn't sure what was real or imagined or... but at least all was (mostly) resolved by the end.  Psychological Thriller, yep.  I understand it's loosely based on true events, and it certainly got me wondering about what goes on at some psychiatric hospitals.  Yikes. 

Three stars ⭐⭐⭐★★ for Unsane. I'd like to give it more, but it gave me the creeps.

------------------------------------------------------------

For those looking for something weird, confusing, and/or disturbing to watch during these long winter nights, I'll say check these out.  And I'd be interested to know your thoughts.  Otherwise, feel free to skip 'em!

to hug or not to hug

It's been a minute since I visited my space here.  I decided to open up my tutoring biz for a little side gig income streaming, and it didn't take long for the requests to trickle in.  I took on three students before closing the request door again.  Nice kids, all.  Two local seniors, one online junior.  Keeping me maybe a little too busy.

One of the locals, I'm pretty sure, has ADHD.  "Slow down and focus, Betty.  FoCUs!" (her name's not Betty).  I've had ADHD tutees before, and they are a challenge.  Helps me sympathize and appreciate not having that particular disorder.

But I do enjoy the work and was worried about my brain turning mushy from not doing it.  Now that COVID restrictions aren't so limiting, I like having the option of meeting in-person again.  

I don't go to people's homes and instead meet locals at libraries or such.  WAAAY back when I first started tutoring for a test prep company, we were advised against tutoring in homes.  If we did go to a student's house, a "responsible adult" had to be present because there are scammers/ opportunists who might claim something happened that never did.

Personally, I think students typically do better if they have to get their stuff together, get properly dressed, and leave the house to meet.  Even meeting online isn't so bad since they need to have their materials ready in one spot and login to an account.

So scammers and opportunists aside, the handful of times I did go to someone's home, I quickly grew tired of students who didn't have their stuff ready, who'd maybe just crawled out of bed, sat eating a meal or snack during tutoring, interacted with their pets... yeah, no.  Not doing it.

One of my coworkers has also worked as an adjunct instructor at the college.  He told me about a female student who once came to him in tears, asking if she could do a make up of a test she'd missed. With broken sentences she explained having "a lot going on right now", and feeling a bit overwhelmed with it all.

He told me he interrupted her speech and just gave her a hug "because she really seemed to need one".

And I was thinking, "Ooooh, Steve, nooooo".  

I get that she probably did need a hug, but not from her college instructor?  Her older male college instructor?  

So it got me thinking.  I wouldn't hug a high schooler, but I have had college students who were grown ass adults and nearly my age and almost on "friend" terms.  Hugs though?  Female student maybe, men, hmmm, no.  

Steve thinks it was the right thing, so maybe it was.  Every situation is different.  Steve also says he has ADHD.  

Oh, look, a squirrel!

  

advantages of social distancing

Summer is winding down.  We're getting hints of fall, then we get hit with another day in the 90s.  But at least we don't get hurricanes in these parts.

One day last summer, I noticed a new sign on one of the bike paths, showing a "COVID Bike Route ↑", and I wondered, "What the heck's a COVID bike route?"

I learned that it's a bike route that is particularly wide so we don't breathe on each other too much while passing.  I'm wondering if someday things like these signs, chains of separation on buses, etc. will end up in the Smithsonian or in some COVID museum.  

...or will they just become the usual?

A couple of weeks ago at this same intersection, I pulled up behind a couple of middle-agers on bicycles - man and woman.  I thought I recognized the man right away as the guy we bought our house from.  The woman was probably his wife.

They're a nice enough couple.  I've mentioned that the house we bought was a rental when we moved in, and we ended  up buying it from our landlords.  So we'd known them in that capacity and had a pretty casual negotiation in buying the house.  

Most of our tenant dealings had been with the wife even though her husband was the sole owner of the house.  I found her very easy to get along with.  

The husband is also a nice guy, but there's just... something... about him.  Hard to put my finger on it.  He's a bit cartoonish, for lack of a better term.  Physically big and talks a lot without saying much.  But in a very friendly way.

So I approached them from behind as they were stopped at the intersection, waiting for the signal to go.  I kept my distance as I slowed in order to politely social distance on the COVID route avoid having to chat with them.  

Yes, admittedly, I hoped they wouldn't recognize me lest I get hooked in to a long drawn out chit chat of small talk.  Honestly, I would think they preferred to avoid that too.  It was a Friday afternoon.  I'm guessing they took the day or afternoon off of work to enjoy a bike ride together.  They didn't need a rental-tenant-turned-property-buyer to interrupt their "date".  

Plus, the dude was without a shirt, which I found a bit off putting.  I mean, the guy's a big man in his late 50s/ early 60s.  There's certainly no law against it, but shirts are our friends.  Add that to his inclination toward effusive talking, and I decided I'd prefer to avoid being recognized.  

Once we got the signal to proceed, I dingled my bell and made a wide pass of the couple like any old stranger on the bike path - hoping the helmet and dark glasses make us all look alike anyways.

Glad it was the COVID route.

I see the sunrise, just like the other day

We started out as coworkers, and eventually I was sort of his boss.  Malcolm was one of the young "pups" of which I found myself the den mother.  

When I  think of Malcolm, I think of how patient he was with the elderly residents in his care, kindly coaxing them out of their confusion or loudly but gently asking them to "PUT IN YOUR HEARING AIDS".  Like the rest of us, he tired of wearing the gowns, the N95 masks, etc. but he did it without complaint, looking forward to when the residents could come out of their rooms and socialize.

And mostly, he was just a sweet kid.

In the  kitchen, he was known for his "legendary" breakfasts.  Working the day shift, we could order anything for our breaks, and the cooks gladly obliged while we all marveled at Malcolm's metabolism.  They loved his huge orders, and he was also their "go to" whenever they needed a taste tester for new recipes.

He once casually asked me what my favorite lunch special was, and I voted for chicken saltimbocca.  The next time the cooks prepared that dish, Malcolm took it upon himself to stash a serving away for me.

I can honestly say that, although he was so young and I'm old enough (and then some) to be his mom, I'm a better person for having known Malcolm.  He found a new job about a month ago and left our care facility after deciding he didn't want to get the COVID vaccine just yet.  I told him he'd be greatly missed, but it was a good new opportunity for him.

He tragically died last weekend.  He was just 19 years old, taking the year off before starting college because of the pandemic.

From what we've been able to gather without being too pushy, he smoked some weed that was - unbeknownst to him - laced with fentanyl.  

Dammit, Malcolm.  Damn world.

This whole work week, we've shuffled along like zombies, trying to remain cheerful if only in appearance.  A couple of residents have picked up on it, and I confessed that I'd unexpectedly lost a good friend.

They offer sweet words of comfort and encouragement since, heaven knows, they know grief, having lived as long as they have.  I still couldn't bring myself to tell any of them that it was Malcolm we'd lost.  

Rest In Peace, sweet Malcolm. 

 

I still hear you and believe I see signs of you letting me know that you're still here with us, but just out of reach.  All these little coincidences...

I'm grateful to have known you.  

I'll never forget you.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Linking up this week with Mama Kat for the prompt:
4. Write a blog post inspired by the word: light

oh m- m- m- my

My freshman year of high school.  Everybody knew and loved the song.  We bought the album because, back then, you bought whole albums to listen to one song.  And it was such a catchy tune, energizing, fun!  

It appropriately reached number one on the Billboard charts and remained for six weeks.  It went on to be number one on Billboard's 1979 top pop singles year-end chart.  Remember?

My Sharona, the debut single from The Knack.

The novel I'm currently reading makes a teeny reference to "My Sharona", and I learned something new.  

The novel is "My Dark Vanessa".  Heard of it?  Read it?  It came out last year and tells the story of an inappropriate relationship between a 15-year-old girl and her high school English teacher.  

Told from the student's point of view, who is currently in her early 30's, via flashbacks and her current life, it's obviously disturbing.  I want to shake some sense into her 15-year-old self as well as her early 30's self.

But then, there'd be no book...

Anyway, during one scene, she's in the car with her parents who are streaming some of their fave tunes, one of which is "My Sharona".  She finds it amusing that her father is be-bopping along to the catchy song, unknowing of its origin and also unknowing of the nasty stuff going on between her and her teacher.

"My Sharona" was written by Doug Fieger, rhythm guitarist and lead vocalist of The Knack who, "instantly fell in love" with Sharona Alperin when he first met her.  He was 26 and in a relationship, she was 17 and had a boyfriend.  He apparently cranked out the song in about 15 minutes.  And yes, that's the real-life - braless and chilly? - Sharona in the iconic image of her holding the album.

The novel points out the lyrics:

Never gonna stop, give it up.
Such a dirty mind. 
Always get it up for the touch
Of the younger kind...

Okay, so 9 years age difference doesn't seem so bad if it's say, 56 and 47, or even 36 and 27.  But 26 and 17?  Hmmm.  And actually, Doug Fierger and Sharona Alperin went on to be a couple for about 4 years and were engaged for a time before splitting up.  (I learned this stuff when I dug deeper after the book reference).

I guess I never paid close attention to those lyrics, or at least those coupla lines. I heard that Fieger later stated in an interview that he wrote My Sharona from the point of view of a 14-year-old boy, but seems he was trying to cover his butt, given that reference to "...the younger kind".  

Not gonna lie, though.  I still like the song.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Linking up this week with Mama Kat for the prompt:
1. Write about something new you learned recently.

in the hearts of others

 I was at work on Monday, and one lady resident wasn't feeling well.  I asked her what she'd like for lunch, and she apologetically said she didn't care for any.  Other than that, she seemed her usual friendly and talkative self.  

I mentioned to my coworker, young Mick, that Marilou didn't feel like having lunch, but maybe we could check a while later.  He seemed surprised.  He's known her longer than I have.  

"Hmm, she always looks forward to lunch.  I'll go see", he said an headed toward her room.

Young Mick was able to get her to order some lunch, good ol' young Mick.  But when her lunch was ready, alas, she turned it down when I brought it.  We kept it warm for her in hopes that she'd feel better in a bit.  Mick came back with it a second time.

"She said she didn't think she could keep it down"

Aw, well.  GI issues show up all the time.  She'll be back to it soon enough.

I went to work on Wednesday and learned that Marilou died Tuesday night.  This is the first death of a resident with whom I was familiar since I started working at the facility.  I'm just two weeks in, and I know it goes with the territory.  But Marilou?  There are others who seemed closer to death's door.

My coworkers were visibly shaken even though they've been through this sort of thing before.  They dried tears and carried on.  

I was thinking of young Mick.  I remember the thoughtful concerned look on his face when I'd told him Marilou didn't feel like having lunch and his determination to urge her to order something.  Mick had the day off on Wednesday, so he wouldn't know about Marilou until later.  

When I started this gig a couple of weeks ago, I had to focus on understanding the workflow, the logistics, the "system".  I was impressed at how well my coworkers knew the needs and quirks of so many residents.  Over time, the "system" has become more second nature to me and I've been able to get to know the residents and hope to soon be caught up with my coworkers' memory banks.

It was difficult to pass by Marilou's room on Wednesday, but I'll take it as a sign that I'm getting better at this job.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Linking up this week with Mama Kat for the prompt:
5. A blog post inspired by the word: better.

sizzlin'

A couple of my coworkers at the hospital are similar but different women.  Similar in that they both have strong personalities, are good at what they do, and have been working there since the place opened a little less than five years ago.

They don't get along.

Tee is a nutritionist/ dietitian.  Em is a chef.  Tee trained me for my job, but I work more closely with Em.  I happen to like both of them (and I think the feeling is mutual?), but I don't like being around when they're in the same room together, which, thankfully, is not often.

Em runs the show in the kitchen, is known to dance around - particularly on Friday afternoons - and make fun observations of the day-to-day goings on.  Her food is delicious, and she often whips up batches of cookies just for the fun of it while somehow completing all of her tasks as well as picking up others' slack.

Tee works mainly in the retail cafe', helping customers, making recommendations, checking that ready-to-go and buffet items are nicely displayed and up to par, and keeping the cafe' tidy and attractive.

I trained with Tee for my first two days, and I think it was day one where she told me, under her breath, "Yeah, we don't get along", referring to Em.  So I was a bit intrigued, but not wanting to get caught up in any kitchen cat fight.  What's not to like about either of them?

I've never witnessed the two of them arguing.  They are cordial with one another, and stuff gets done.  I suspect there've been open arguments in the past that have reached an agree-to-disagree status that everyone is aware of.

I think I've somewhat figured it out.  It goes back to simply, Tee is a nutritionist/ dietitian.  Em is a chef.

Tee wants recipes to be followed to the letter.  A dish calls for 5 ounces of hummus?  It better have 5 ounces of hummus, plus or minus nothing.

Em wants food that looks appealing and tastes amazing.  Hmmm, might be better with more like 3 ounces of hummus?  3 ounces it is.

Tee wants to not have to throw any food away - sustainability and all that.  Em wants plentiful portions available, plus the main dishes look nice when displayed in large, full pans.

Now, Tee is not wholly against making a substitution here and there.  And Em isn't changing things up so much as to severely alter nutritional content.

Me?  I stay out of it.  I can certainly see both points of view, but this is a semi-retirement side gig for me anyway.  I enjoy the psychological research.


What do you think?  Are you a Tee or an Em?  Or an Abby?

are unlikable characters more realistic?

I was at the local public library last week having just finished meeting with a tutee.  I didn't feel a strong need to leave right then, so thought I'd peruse the "new books" shelf.  This is usually how my casual reading happens as I rarely plan what I'm going to read ahead of time.



I ended up grabbing [THIS BOOK], maybe because the cover made it look light and easy and/or because it was just under 300 pages.  Okay, call me a slacker, but some of the recent books I was not getting into involved heavy, sappy writing and/or were rather long winded and weren't doing much for me.  I was ready to coast for a while.




I ended up getting very engrossed by this story, surprisingly enough.  It's about a fresh-out-of-college woman who gets a job as an apprentice teacher at an all male boarding school.  Oh, here it comes, yep...

So yeah, she has a fling with one of the students.  That seemed tawdry and cliche', but I opened it up to a random page, and the writing seemed okay, so I decided to give it a go.

I really enjoyed the book, although "enjoyed" seems like the wrong word because it was rather dark and disturbing and... well... messed UP!  Our main character, Imogene, is in fact, one hot mess.

I think what pulled me in is that the story is written in first person from Imogene's perspective.  We learn early enough that she has issues... with anxiety and self-worth and relationships in general.  So the book feels more like her private journal than a realistic telling of events.  It's more a psychological study of a hot mess.

So I kept on reading, wondering where the author was going to go with this and knowing it couldn't end well.  While I disliked Imogene and was disturbed by her behaviors, I felt sorry for her and wanted her to get help rather than punishment.  I admit that's not my typical reaction when I hear similar stories.  *She should know better, the predatory pedophile!*  *Lock up your sons!*

I even vacillated between liking and disliking Kip, Imogene's boy toy.  He'd go from being a cocky, privileged teen, looking to get some action from a naive teaching assistant, to a stressed kid overwhelmed by the cultural pressures and expectations put upon him.

So I was glad with this random pick off the library shelf.  The method seems to work better for me than making a list.  Now, as far as what I didn't like, I think the cover art and the book's description make it seem like it's a light, maybe even comical, romp.  It is not, but that actually turned out to be a good thing.  Four stars.

Do you have a list of books you plan to read?  
Whatcha readin'?

---------------------------------------------------------

Linking up this week with Mama Kat... sort of... for the prompt:
2. List the top 6 books on your list to read next.

at least the view was nice

I sat waiting for the inevitable confrontation.  This wouldn't be pleasant, but things needed to be said and acknowledged.

Things were so hopeful in the beginning, but alas, it wasn't to be.  Red flags revealed themselves early on, but I let them slide, thinking maybe we could salvage the relationship.  Maybe it was just typical adjustment period stuff.  Maybe it could work out for the long haul.

But who was I kidding?  Deep down, I knew from the start.  Something just wasn't right.  Life was good, I'd even say it was better than before. But... but...

He entered the room, and already I knew that he knew.  He looked so sad, so defeated.  He was sincerely apologetic.  He chalked it up as a loss, a loss that he mourned.  

I felt bad for him.  Honestly, I felt worse for him than I felt for myself.  

"It's not your fault", I assured him.  "I'd do the exact same thing again, not knowing the outcome.  Nothing is 100% guaranteed"...

That retrograde root canal - apicoectomy - I had six months ago?  Didn't work, long story short.

I'm now scheduled to have that bastard of a tooth extracted from my head next week.  Good riddance, I won't miss it.

I do feel bad for that endodontist, however.  

"It's not you, it's me"

selling, scammers, and the healing powers of mud

Yeesh, these are supposed to be the lazy days of summer, and I've been busy neglecting the poor blog!

My tutor workload has nicely mellowed - a few nice students a week, no evenings, no weekends. 😊
But I am filling the days with other things.  Since our April (snow) showers brought May (snow) showers brought a buncha downed tree limbs brought June showers, I find myself doing a fair amount of yard work this summer, trying to keep the yard presentable.

In my continuing tidying efforts, I've been selling a few items off on craigslist.  I get a kick out of the scammers out there.  They don't fail me.  Within minutes of placing an ad on craigslist, I get inquiry texts from interested "buyers".  So here's your PSA for today:

•   If some stranger asks for a Google Voice Verification code to prove to THEM that YOU are not a scammer, THEY are a scammer.

I can usually spot them right off because they respond to ads shortly after the ads have been posted, the item for sale is usually named exactly as posted in the ad, and the English is not so good.  I like to humor them a bit before I block them.  Example, figure 1.

fig. 1

*sigh*  Eventually, they leave me alone, and the legit people come through.  

And craigslist hasn't been a one-way street this month.  Meego, still reeling a bit from his broken heart, has done some shopping therapy and found a sweet new-to-him, full suspension mountain bike, plu$ a few acce$$orie$ and shop adju$tment$.   Good thing he works a lot of hours in the summer.  He got it out to the hills last weekend, and this showed up in my instagram.

Well, y'know what they say, "best way to get over a man is to get under another one"

OOPS, wait.  Wrong scenario.  

I meant to say,  "best way to get over a girl is to get off  Snapchat and get on a new bicycle".

broken [fill in the blank]

Welp, this last week has featured a broken vehicle (my fault) and a broken heart (Meego's) in addition to all of our broken trees.  Being a clutterphobe, I'm a Marie Kondo fan, and who's gonna complain about Jesus? (Don't answer). So this meme struck me as relevant for me this week.

But I'm not here to whine, but rather to look on the bright side.  Plus, I don't want to talk about the bonehead move that left us short one vehicle.  I will say that I'm glad I've been a bicycle commuter for some time now, so even the crap winter weather we've had didn't majorly hamper my getting around.

Meego's missing the girlfriend he broke up with when he left for college last fall.  She wanted to try to make the long-distance thing work as she still had a year left of high school here, but he was reluctant.  They'd usually get together when he came home for visits, but he admits he sometimes blew her off.  She was trying, but then gave up a couple of weeks ago.  Now he's home for summer and feels the breakup was a mistake.  He's apologized, but she's understandably reluctant and won't see him, and he's kicking himself.  Ah, life lessons!  And a reminder that I would NOT want to go back to the high school years!

All of our deciduous trees took a hit in last week's storm, as did trees all over town.  When stuff like this happens, it's nice to see neighbors helping each other out.  We're not sure if we're going to have someone come out and shred our downed branches or have them hauled away.  All of the "tree people" are so busy right now, we figure we can wait for the dust to settle.  In the meantime, we're just tidying up and moving the severed limbs to an area on the side of the house because I don't want the trees to have to see them.  Yeah, go ahead and laugh at me for that, you won't be the first.  

Magnum's out there now with his new toy saw.  I'm going out now to help make a nice hidden joy-sparking pile.