blind date I don't know what number and it's a tie in with the story I'm in the midst of. so this is part 2.5

It's amazing how many memories are stored and get triggered once you start down the trip of memory land. That was a typo, but I kinda liked it.

Two years prior to my visit with Dot, I had gone down to Florida to spend a week with an Israeli couple who had moved from NY.  They were also in Boca, but not yet so fancy shmancy.

What a completely opposite type of trip. They took me all over, fed me gave me their daughter's room and wouldn't let me put a hand in my pocket. Really dear, dear people.

They had American friends who had also just moved down as well. Into the Boca Polo Club I believe it was called. It was arranged to have dinner with them and a friend who was staying for the week end who they also had know in NY. At this time he was living south of Miami.

It wasn't exactly a blind date, but we were the two single people out with two married couples. As it happened, we liked each other a lot.  His brother-in-law was the head of a department of school psychologists on Long Island and we knew some of the same people. I was a good person and didn't tell him the rumor about his sister's husband having an affair. Not my place, but it's a small world.

We went back to the friends house after dinner and hung out in the pool. My poor friends were exhausted and wanted to leave, so Rich and I had to say good bye. He was staying over night but, well, we'd just met.

We got back to the house and the phone rang. It was two am. It was Rich on his friends mobile. His friend's had a condo that was empty and he invited me to spend the night. I wasn't going to but my friend's said I should go for it. So, I did.  He picked me up and we spent the night.

YOU KNOW WOMEN. ALWAYS EXPECTING A DATE TO END IN A WEDDING.

The next day we went back to his friends and hung out in the pool.  He was kind of aloof and I didn't quite know what to make of it.

I finally called my friends to pick me up and I left.

Rich called and we spoke a few times and he invited me down for the Jewish New Year which fell on a week end. I was pretty excited.

Long story short. He was fricking Jekyll and Hyde.  The first night was great. The morning not so good and he dropped me at the pool so he could work out.
We went to dinner at my friends, and the next day was fine, as was the evening. Then in the morning he was all cool and somewhere else. It was so bad I asked him to take me to the airport early because I'd rather sit at the airport than be with him.

Of course I was so disappointed. I'm sure I asked my friend to talk to his friends but whatever was said is not in the land of memory. It was something really banal, that I'm sure.

I bet you don't know that I love to read greeting cards.  When I have the time I want to find the right one. I was in a store and I have no idea what section I found this card in, but it was so perfect. I had to send it to Rich.

       It's late and I don't feel like drawing, so I'll use my words.

          On the front of the card is a woman at a bar with some males buzzing around her. The are all cartoonish characters.

She's looking at her drink and says to no one in particular

"I should have been a proctologist".

 

You open the card and inside she finishes by saying

"I meet so many assholes".

 

I sent the card but didn't sign it.

 

 

Where does this fit in the tale of choice? When I was visiting Dot, we and another friend of hers went to a singles bar in Fort Lauderdale.

 

We were sitting at a table, but I got up to go to the bar to get a drink. I'm standing and waiting and a guy I don't know comes over to me and says, "I bet you're a psychologist. And your name is Gee."  I'm, like and how do you know that?  And he points down to the end of the bar and there, in all his glory is Rich. And let me tell you, it was Rich.   

He walked over to me and asked how I was. I was floored. I think I asked him if he got my card. He asked why I didn't sign it and I said, "and yet you knew who it was from".  So, stupidly, I asked him what his problem was. And he said it was a long time ago and he didn't remember.

Yeah. We human idiots always want closure.

 

I've learned as a shrink, that the only closure you can get is when you yourself take it. Whatever the other person's reason. It will never make a difference. We have this need to know.  Like if someone tells us why he didn't like us, we can fix it and we'll be okay for the next one. We know that isn't real, but we keep on asking.

 

THEORY

 

We want to believe that if someone hurts us, there is a real, plausible reason. That way we can have some control over our lives. But the truth is, it's not true.

No matter what we are told, we will still hurt. If the person lies we don't learn, if they tell the truth, we don't learn. The only one we can learn from is our self.

So the next time you get burned, don't ask why the person lit the match. Ask why you put your hand in it.

 

THE END OF THIS PART

 

 

FREEDON TO CHOOSE A BLESSING OR A CURSE PART TWO

We last left off with me getting overdosed by a possibly perverted allergist and being rescued by my good old family physician. He put me on birth control pills when I was 17, but shush. Don't tell my parents.

The second time he  (the allergist) overdosed me, I stopped going for shots. They may have helped a bit, but not enough to keep my risking my life.

BACK TO THE STORY   WHATEVER THAT WAS

Hmm. I believe I was seeing if I could make a decision. I was also trying to understand how the decision wasn't only mine.



FLORIDA

I believe it was around when I turned 40, after I had visited a friend in Florida that I finally got my first dog. The story of my visit is also a sidebar*(or Another Digression) but I think you will enjoy it and of course, question my judgement in friends. Although she was friends with my mom and that's how I met her.


Anyway, Dot had moved to Florida with her daughter who was maybe 16. Yeah. She was driving so she had to be around that.

BEACH

I was thinking of relocating to FL because of the slim pickings in NY for single women. Dot had just bought a house in Boca Estates or one of those fancy places. I do not know exactly where or how she got her money but she always lived on the edge. She sold used cars, out of her home. Yeah. Probably a bit shady. But, I didn't have a lot of cash to spend and she told me to come down for two weeks. I could stay in her daughters room and use one of the cars she would have on hand. And I wouldn't have to swallow.  Her story. hmm  At the time she was missing NY. She wasn't by the time I got there.

When I arrived, her daughter was still there since her dad had cancelled their visit. Of course he would. I'm not sure if he was not good husband/dad material or Dot wasn't good wife material, now that I'm looking back.
And of course  I couldn't sleep on the white sofa in the living room (the only piece of furniture) because I might "soil" it, so I could sleep in the empty room with no bed, cot or mattress. I went out and bought a futon. I never really liked camping and I think the ground would have been softer. Me? Sleep on tile? No thanks. (by the way, she kept the futon and didn't pay me for it).

Dot had met someone romantically, after we had made our plans. I already had my tickets so I guess she figured she'd make the best of it. She wasn't so keen on having me there, but I served a purpose.

The first part of the trip I remember  running around to the motor vehicle bureaus to register or unregister cars. Of which she had none. And her daughter who had a car smashed it after I was there a couple of days.  Yeah,  when I got there I had to rent one.  I know. This is what happens to a person who is using someone else. That would have been me.  You know, hoping to freeload. And her too.  Only she had had lots of practice and I didn't.

Then, her new beau who of course was there, had to go back north and she followed. I got to drive her to the airport and of course she was late. I remember driving  in the left lane doing 90, and praying not to be stopped by a cop while she's telling me to hurry up or she'll miss her plane. We made it. I can't quite recall how it went down but it was something like she might have had me drive further south so she could pick the flight up as it was doing like a West Palm, Fort Lauderdale, Miami run. Apparently I could drive faster than a plane.    

I got back to her house and got to spend time, and money with her daughter for the week end. She left her kid ten bucks. I also had to feed the dog and cat.


Ah. Finally the part of the story you are wondering about.  I'm getting to it.  She had a cat, that thankfully stayed out most of the time, and a little Maltese dog named Muffin.  She was so cute. And she really took to me. I mean really really took to me.



futon no frame

I was sleeping on the futon on the floor and there was no locking door to the room. Just  two panels that closed shut, but didn't lock. I would go to bed and Muffin would come in and sleep on my head. It was really precious, except that Muffin snored. Very Loudly. I couldn't fall asleep. Dummy that I was, I would wait until she fell asleep and think I could sneak around to the other side and not wake her. It's obvious I knew squat about dogs.

Every time I turned, she woke, got up and moved back  to my head.

Next, I tried to keep her out of the room. I pushed my suitcase in front of the doors. She pushed her way in. Later, to let me know she wasn't happy with that idea,  she shit in my suitcase. The good news was that my allergies were okay. And she was a small dog. Not that I planned to get a dog, but wow. She was just so adorable.

if you see your name, it jumps out at you. try looking

The visit did not end well. Not that the beginning was exactly high on my list for a repeat visit, but when I was checking my flight, I was at the kitchen phone above the counter. Those were the only ones we had back then. I glanced down and saw a ledger that had names and cars and dates on it. I was on hold, and wasn't looking but when I saw my name, my maiden name with Civic, which wasn't the car I  had been driving I got shocked. I didn't look at the rest. And off I went. But I stupidly asked Dot what she was doing with my old name in her ledger when I returned home.

The best defense is a good offense and boy did she take offense.  She yelled at me for snooping in her things. I tried to find out what my name was doing there but didn't get a response. And we haven't spoken since.  No. I didn't have a Civic ...yet.
Now I remember why I got the dog. I needed a car and I leased a new Honda Accord with all the bells and whistles. I had it one night. It was gone when I went out the morning after I picked it up. Bloody Hell.




And this too will be continued.......

FREEDOM TO CHOOSE A BLESSING OR A CURSE? BTW, I AM NOT TALKING ABOUT ABORTION. THAT TOO, IS YOUR CHOICE AND I HAVE NO SAY IN IT. PART 1

Part of being a human being means we have the ability to choose. It doesn't matter where you were born, what kind of government you have or whether you are male or female. There are still decisions we make that are strictly personal.

Of course, living in the United Stated of America, we are taught that we are free. Since the only other country I lived in briefly was Israel, I can't say what it would be like to like in a land of dictatorship, chaos or socialism.  I only know what I know. And, of course it's been slanted in the direction my country wants me to see. No matter where you live, that's the truth.

This is or at least, didn't begin as a political treatise. I can't decide on whether or not to get a dog. And, apparently the decision isn't entirely up to me, as my husband has decided that it can't happen until we take our trip to Italy and Israel sometime in 2017. We have a Bar Mitzvah to go to and hubby wants to see the land of his roots.  That's not the issue.

We are a couple, so we are supposed to make decisions together and if needs must, to compromise. Not one of my strong points.

BACKSTORY:

I am allergic to animals, flowers, trees, perfume, my own sweat and various environmental properties.  If you can breathe it, I can wheeze it. I have also developed asthma and am on an inhaler.

The allergies to pollen dates to childhood. The animals to approximately age 16. We had a cat when I was a kid and I was okay. I choose to believe that his death triggered the allergy. He had been injured by a car and made his way home. We had the vet come. Can you believe that? Anyway, he was too far-gone. I was probably 12 and don't know why we weren't able to give him to the vet, or why my parents didn't take him to be put down.  When I think of it, this was barbaric.  In any event, someone came to the house to pick him up. During the day. Both my parents were working and I just couldn't do it. And so it fell to Janis, my sister who was barely two years older. I still feel guilty at leaving her to do this by herself and I'm starting to cry.

HOW CAN I HELP YOU? A QUERRIE FRAUGHT WITH FRUSTRATION, NOT OF THE SEXUAL KIND. THAT WOULD BE "HOW CAN I DO YOU?"

This is being written because of frustration. (AGAIN, not the sexual kind). This blog is read all over the world. I have recently received several emails from Norway. That would be great if I understood what the writer was asking.  She did mention ADD and Ritalin and life or death. Her English is quite questionable although it's 100% better than my Norwegian which is, let's see, .......nope. I can't think of one Norwegian word.  Which reminds me of the Beatles song, Norwegian Wood. Totally irrelevant, but that's my brain at work.

How could I not respond? I'm a former shrink and it's automatic to want to help. Even when you can't. Now, I'm not sure if she's suicidal or threatening me or maybe just having a laugh. How can I know from so far away? And even though I don't know this girl, I worry for her. Which is nuts on my end, because really, what can I do? What could I do?  What should I do? (I thought of asking one friend who has a couple who they are friends with who are Norwegian to intercede then I thought, yeah, that is really nuts. What could they do? Why should I involve people I don't know?)  My husband knows the answer. He will tell me to ignore it and do nothing. And even though I know he's right, there will be that little niggling part of my brain that doesn't just want (I don't know how to do it on this format, so pretend I put a line through the want, and replace it with the word can't) let it go.

The title to this post, starts with a simple enough question. How can I help you?  It's usually asked when you sit down to order something at a diner or at a department store or mall information station or a sales woman. Assuming you shop in places that still employ people who are on the floor to help you.  That too, is another post.

It used to be a question that was asked with much more frequency than it is today. That being said, it's a very human question.  People needing something from another person. People seeing the need, and asking, what can I do?


Your friend  says, I don't understand the homework. You ask. What can I do to help?
Your friend  says, I  didn't do the homework. You ask. What can I do to help?
Your friend is having surgery. You ask. What can I do to help?
Your friend is having relationship issues. You ask. What can I do to help?
Your friend needs to be bailed out of jail. You ask, What can I do to help?
Your friend needs to bury a body. You run very, very fast.

Well, the last two, thank God I haven't had to do, but the others? Sure. I may have been the one who didn't understand the homework. However, I was too ashamed to ask for help.

People, helping people are the luckiest people in the world. No, wait. That's not right. Weren't the words of the song,  people who need people are the luckiest people? 
Regardless,
One leads to the other. People who need people also usually need help from the people they need.


There are many days I wish that weren't so.

I started this yesterday morning. I planned on finishing it when I got back from Yoga.
I forgot and got busy doing things for the art show on Tuesday.  Then, last evening after my husband and I returned from a brief walk, I opened a kitchen cabinet to get a paper plate. I pulled my hand up and the glass knob cracked and broke off 

OUCH.  And lots of blood.  My husband is  the best. He calmed me down, washed, cleaned and bandaged my thumb where the gash was.  We sat and watched TV for an hour and I calmed down. I needed to take a look because I thought it might still be bleeding.  It was.

I needed that time before I could stop being in denial so I would be able to go to the emergency room.  So that was where we went. The parking lot was fairly full. I gritted my teeth and we walked in and it was empty. Two people walked in right after we did.
Thank you Universe.

I have a laceration and I hit a capillary.  I got three stitches and was very brave. I did my deep breathing and it didn't hurt. The lidocaine no doubt helped that, but those were three shots into the wound and I breathed through those too.   

I am already wondering how I will get through the next couple of days.  This little art show is my first ever. It's a good thing I got things done in advance, but the rest, you can only do the day of.

So the original question has been turned around since I am now the one who needs help.  Have I mentioned before that I HATE to ask for help?  that being independent is as important as breathing?  Another gem left over from childhood lessons.

My husband was going to help me set up. Together. I would help lifting the heavy table and hauling all the other things. Now, I'm not sure what I'll be able to do.

THEORY   Whatever you think or believe is what you want. Not what is.  Sometimes life happens to you to show you a lesson about that.  Usually, we forget the lesson. So, we have to keep doing it until we finally let it sink in and learn it.