MaggieMayhem

I want to post passive-aggressive drama stuff on Facebook, but that helps no one. So here I am, on my barren blog, venting at the universe, shouting into the void.

Some months ago, I lent a burner my kneelie scooter. Larry had put a little basket on it, and a cute bell, and it had a lock. I am short, so it did hurt my knee a bit, but I could use it. Mostly it lived in the garage. I lent it to a burner, the goddess type with the dreads, a new hippie name, and a belief the universe will provide. I also provided a 12v fan and a couple other things. A bike I could have sold. Goddess left town without returning the scooter, and now blames her sister. Her sister had blocked her, apparently. Yeah, goddess, I hope the universe bites you in the ass for you lack of responsibility. But not your cat, cats don’t deserve to pay for their human’s blunders. But you suck.

Not having learned my lesson, I lent my wheelchair to a goddess I truly like and respect. Responsible and kind are words I associate with her. She needed a mobility device to borrow for a weekend for her offspring who had hurt their leg. I did not think it would be a problem. Well, silly me. She has promised to return it and has stood me up for two weekends now. Not one word either weekend that she could not make it. I am harboring evil thoughts and I do not like that. Just bring the damned thing back. Find a way.

Someone who borrowed something else is making an effort to return it this week and I know he will follow through.

Basically, my faith in people is diminished yet again. At this point I will not lend one thing out, nor one penny. I trust one person implicitly, maybe two, but all others pay cash. I may give gifts, but no loans, no borrowing. And if you call yourself a goddess, I am an atheist and don’t believe your bullshit.

Looking into the backyard, most of the snow is melted, there is a thick mat of dead brown leaves on the grass. Fog has shrouded the trees. Looks like it should be spooky, but all I see is the neglect and the creeping disorder. That Larry loved his yard so much, that he never let it go untended, and it always looked tidy, if natural. Poor old yard. I look at the patio, at the staggered board fence which we had talked about replaced. The paint is peeling, the boards on the ends covered in green moss. The original owner built that patio. Masters, I think his name was. I used to walk by this house on my way to school, I never looked at it, never glimpsed the lives of the people whose home would become my own. We fade, we are forgotten, except for the fingerprints of that which we have made.

I want to go out, I want to rake. I am paralyzed, and it is cold out there. Old~ish movies on TV keep me company, but I am jaded, and stories with heaven and death and second chances are like grit in my shell. I suppose I could hope for a pearl, but it feels like an ulcer on my soul.

Desi brought me a birthday cake last Monday. Delicious heaps of sugar such as only a commercial supermarket bakery can provide. Red Velvet, not my favorite, but close. n Wednesday, Genius and Rarity came and took me to a late lunch. We tried the new WB’s Eatery, a cross between a bar and a little bistro. Art on the walls. Ha, I can paint that well or better. Honestly, I can. I had a nice strong drink, some ham and fig bruschetta, steak chimicurro skewers, and schrimp scampi. A nice interlude.

They took some of Larry’s candles home with them, and Friday, after commissary run, Desi took more candles, plus molds and wax and wick. I found the sil-pat cupcake molds, and will use them to make bath bombs. I got into the box of jars to make candles, found a cute mug and an interesting bail top canister On Sunday, another friend will come and help me sort all the candle making stuff. Of course, I will cry.

Larry made wonderful candles. He made a wonderful garden, with sturdy raised beds. The candles will burn, and his gift used, leaving only memories. The flowerbeds will slowly rot, especially if I cannot and do not tend the garden. Someone will buy this house. They will raze the garden, perhaps. They will look at my wonky painted cabinet in the bathroom. They will paint and scrape and remodel, and they will not know me, they will not know Larry. The love we had, the love of this home, it all fades and falls away.

This is inevitable, this is natural, and sometimes, it makes me very, very sad. Larry should never be forgotten.

A wonderful burner friend has been battling leukemia for about a year now. They did the tests which determine the next course of action. Turns out it is home hospice. Well, fuck. I tell them I love them, but I have no words. I am sick. I just cannot. She is so young and vibrant. Dammit.

I will write about my lovely belated birthday lunch later. No way to squeeze in any other topic in my much too full brain this moment.

I did not speak to one person today. Not on the phone or in person or on any device. Alexa and the cats were it. Could be my fault, I am a crappy caller.

So, the eye was a scratch and is healing. My close vision is creeping back, so that’s nice. I had a salad at the hospital cafe, only $3. Whoot. Lots of greens and beets and yummy stuff. I still cannot see worth a damn, or perhaps half a damn.

Today is my 63rd birthday. Many, many lovely wishes on Facebook, which is heart warming. I did get three cards, one form TK, a Navy mom who makes her own beautiful cards with stamps and embellishments, and the other two from my pagan Navy moms. Otherwise, it was simply a quiet day at home. I made waffles for breakfast, and had eggrolls and sweet potato fries for lunch. Painted a little, worked on the Silver Torso, made the ice club for Loki. Tidied this and that, got the thrift shop stuff in a box. Washed dishes. Watched some more Lost in Space. Listened to music. Cried a lot, because I really, really miss Larry and each year takes me further and further away. That’s just how it is, and no great concern, just a day like this slams home just how much he meant. I hate this life now, but it’s the only one I have. Ah well. Onward.

I tried to have soup for supper. A neighbor had brought me a jar of dried soup fixings, just add water and boil it up. Wow, it was salty. Salty AF, no kidding. I had to throw it out. Now I’m craving a coke, which means it tossed my sugar off balance. Ugh.

Tomorrow I might bake a cake, a sweet potato pecan snack cake.

An update, I scratched my cornea, or I have a stress induced herpes outbreak in my eye. I go back Thursday, if there is no improvement, it is herpes. Medication to follow.

My head hurts.

Surgery was last Wednesday, a snowy morning. I guess it went well, I was pretty sedated. The lens was removed and replaced, and the optic drain hole was opened and then stitched into shape. The nurses has trouble getting an IV in, but they won’t let you have liquids beforehand, so of course I was dehydrated. It went quickly, I came home and slept it off.

So I am using the three kinds of eyedrops, and a hard eyepatch while sleeping. I am supposed ot have kept my close vision, but at ANY distance, near or far, everything is simply incredibly blurry. I am effectively blind in my right eye. I did go to the follow up appointment, and will go again Monday. I absolutely will not allow the next surgery until I can see out of this eye. Cataracts are better than blindness. I have headaches, I must use my reading and midrange glasses because my good eye is useless for anything closer than my outstretched hand. And my eye hurts. I can see the stitching in bright light, or the shadows of it, and it pulses with my heartbeat.

I’m depressed. This sucks. This sucks A LOT.

Los Angeles, here I come. I got a spot at the convention, used Delta points to book a flight, and got a room at the Marriott LAX. That last bit is more than a little expensive. Still, I have the insurance money to lean on. Screw it.

I decided I needed to go to Boston, just to see it, and to Salem so I could visit with Lonny. End of May seems like a lovely time. Again, Delta points for the flights. Too many days in each city, six, but this won’t be something I’ll be repeating. Staying at an old B&B in Salem, a house built in the 1700s. Looks spooky and ooky. In Boston, a boutique hotel, snooty little place off the Common. I get to see Sham and the phone car! I am a little apprehensive as I am not nearly as mobile as I once was, but hell, it won’t kill me.

Had to pay for a plumber as the tub went from slow draining to almost plugged up. Poor guy had trouble getting things unstuck, he even called his supervisor who is something of a drain expert. But then voila, it drained. Lots of muck in the system, and the U pipe underneath the floor is an immovable mass.

I have a lot of cleaning to do, and today was supposed to be the big day for that. Ha. Hahahahahaha. Ha. We will see what tomorrow brings.

Part of me wants to say, “So what?”. In my changeling life, marking a new year mostly means keeping track of new numbers and dates, and little more. This second year is the year of harsh reality, and while I am doing my level best, some days it is a struggle to care. Yes, that sounds like depression, and yes, I am sad. Not medication level sad, not suicidal, not neglecting my hygiene, just wrapped in a fuzzy wool blanket of not giving a rat’s ass in a deluge of suck.

While everyone is making resolutions, or plans of action, or intentions, or whatever the turn of the year urges them on to do, I am left wondering how to navigate an undecided future. When I was younger, I found the lack of a plan and markers rather exciting. That I did not know what twists and turns were coming was intriguing and even a bad experience was a learning opportunity, at very least, future sea stories and cautionary tales. However, I thought I had finally “found my home at last”, my safe harbor, my shelter. I knew what our days together would be. He would retire and we would jump into home renovations and travel with all our feet. Everything was getting better and better.

And then it was not. The storm came and swept me out to sea, and now I am treading water. It isn’t always bad, but it isn’t The Plan. I have found that creating a New Plan is arduous.

On r/widowers, someone gave the best description of grief. It is like tinnitus, always there, annoying, unnoticed with enough distractions, ready to roar back in the dark and silent moments. Yep. Like that.

So, the plan for 2020 is still nebulous. I have cataract surgery in January, which both delights and terrifies me. Dr. Williams did my eyelid surgery, he’s good. My other surgeon, Dr. Carabine, says my CTscan was “interesting”. Not a word one cares to hear in a doctor’s office. Yes, that bulge on my side is a hernia. Yes, it will hurt some. No, I do not need surgery because it is fully contained under the last mesh repair. The mesh has simply stretched out. Surgery would be riskier than doing nothing. Lose weight, that should help. So. Lose weight. Alrighty then.

I will probably go to Burning Man, although camp needs to recruit a set up and break down crew. Two people should do. Element 11 is probably a no go. It just is not fun without Larry. I have Vancouver booked for October, and Maui for 2021. I cancelled San Diego, but now am looking at a Highlander Friendship Con in Los Angeles in March. The event is limited to 65 people, and includes photos and everything. Mostly Methos, which suits me. I should know If I get a spot very soon. I have Delta points, so that is good.

Jeremy got me a custom Loki action figure, made by his friend. Agent of Asgard, from the comics, not the movies. The base figure is MCU, but has been Frankensteined with other figures. It is cool, but I started to tinker with him, adding details from the comics and my own inclinations. Gave him black nails. Added gold paint, and green shimmer paint. Made sure he has black hair. I have enamel and glass paints which work beautifully. The I took scissors to the bottom of his tunic, and fixed that. Added a drop of blood near his mouth from his fight with Thor. Kept adding details. I have not been eager to paint like this for quite some time. It feels good and indulgent. I ordered new detail paint brushes, and am excited to see if the cataract surgery will help. I’m using Mom’s magnifying glasses and my magnifying lamp … my background in miniatures and micro-miniature repair is fueling the flames. Feels nice.

I had plans, really. Breakfast with Sarah and Debra, then dinner at Rowena’s. Neither happened, and it was entirely on me. I just could not. Partly it has been because I have had a three day arthritis flare up, I am in pain. Maybe not the worst ever, but consistent and dragging. I am also just down. The merry and happy and all of it is too much. I do not want to deal with any of it today.

Sarah did stop by with an Amazon gift card in a cute fold out card, and a golden rose rose from Michelle. Very thoughtful. Rowena sent the girls over with a plate of food. Since my arthritis was up anyway, I ate the potatoes too. Good food, and there was even green bean casserole and a piece of pie. I’ve not had the pie yet. I appreciate that they made the effort for me, that’s nice.

Not sure why the arthritis is so bad. I certainly have been inactive, but moving around doesn’t seem to help. I went downstairs and tidied the basement living room a small bit when I cleaned the cat box. Dishes are mostly done, I swept a little. Hardboiled a few eggs. Still, lots of just zoning out to music, watching old Futuramas. Too much ache to want to rake the leaves. The hernia is hurting too, and I can’t seem to read today.

Reading. Between the tamoxifen after breast cancer, and menopause, I lost the ability for sustained reading. I have books beside the bed which I chip away at, but the same three have been there for ten years. I began reading graphic novels featuring Loki online, sometimes on my phone, some on the laptop. I got a Kindle, which sucks for those as it is in black and white. Got some bluetooth earbuds too. End result, I finished one of the free novels I had begin reading on my phone. I am on a second book now and am enjoying it, plus a graphic novel on the phone, and one of Larry’s audio books on the Kindle. It’s all fluff, but it is something.

Yesteday I dressed up in my new eshakti dress, my green velvet sweatery thing, and my Loki scarf. Carried my new Loki purse. Took Lyft down to see a movie, Jumanji II. It was good mindless fun, very enjoyable. Then I took Lyft up to McKay Dee, got my eyedrops, and then Lyft home. With tips, that’s $30 in transportation alone, but that’s alright.

Changed into slob clothes, called Rocky Mountain Power to take down the big branch on the patio. The wind had pushed it over onto the power line to the house. It’s over by the compost heaps now, heavy thing. I will need help chopping it up.

Cooper the lawn kid dropped by with a neighbor gift. I didn’t even recognize him, I feel so blind. Now I have cranberry ginger ale. Just the thing to take to breakfast tomorrow, as I can’t have it. I took Aloha macs to the neighbors. Don’t tell them I picked them up at the commissary, not in Maui…

Desi had taken me out on errands. One as Harbor Freight for batteries. I was doing pretty well until the cashier asked me for a phone number. I could barely choke out Larry’s number. Whew. I hadn’t been in HF since before Larry passed away. Tough one.