Arm Pain is Taking Over

I want to be able to blog more, but I can't say anything in less than 500 words. Trouble is, chronic tendonitis in my elbow(s) makes my arms hurt like hell. :-(

Beanie

Wow, it's been nearly four months since I last wrote. I don't have the time or energy to write much now. I just wanted to post SOMETHING.

I'm really tired tonight. Tomorrow is Beanie's (and Ziggy's) annual birthday party. Beanie was 10 on Wednesday. I think he is in excellent shape for a pug his age. But I know that it is possible he only has about five more years and it's also possible he may decline quite a bit over that time. The prospect frightens me. Some might think it's crazy or stupid, but I feel as though he is my child. Never felt that way about a dog before. And although I love Ziggy to death, Beanie is special to me in a way that's hard to explain. I don't want to contemplate life without him. I can (which is progress because there was a time when I couldn't - at all), but I don't want to.

Anyway, I took the dogs for a walk this afternoon and got such a kick out of Beanie. He got in the creek and waded in pretty deep. Then I threw sticks for him and he swam to get them. He was feeling good.

I've been pretty much cleaning all day. Also shopped, made macaroni salad and baked a carrot cake. Tired now so I must sign off. Hope to be back soon.

Musical Me

When I was a young kid, I was very into music. I mean, I was into music to the point of being obnoxious. But it was a wonderful time for me. To love something that much is a rare thing. I pretty steadily maintained that infatuation with music until I was oh, around 30. Then due to various circumstances (including being mated to someone who didn't like the same music as me so I couldn't listen freely), I stopped listening for awhile. Then when that relationship ended, I got back into music for several years. It was as intense as it ever had been. My love at that time was dance music. Then again, I stopped listening, for more or less the same reasons as before. This pattern has repeated itself a number of times. Currently, I've been back into music again, but not to the same degree as in the past. :-(

But back to when I was young. Music was the most important thing in my life, and this goes to as far back as I can remember, probably to when I was five or six years old. It continued through high school, college and beyond. As soon as I was old enough to have a radio, I always had one with me, often times glued right to my ear. I used to listen to my radio that way when my family was having dinner. I would have the radio up to my ear so I didn't have to miss one second of the music. Thinking back, I must have really been obnoxious.

So much of my childhood memories are tied to a certain song or songs. I remember goofing off on the front porch during the day and listening to "Groovin" by the Rascals. I remember reading on the hammock in the side yard to "My Cherie Amour" and "What Does It Take" by Junior Walker and the All-Stars. I remember listening to Trav Rupert on - can't remember the call letters - a Hagerstown station at night on the front porch and listening to WLS in Chicago in my bedroom. Later, when I was out of high school, I remember riding my bike (with my radio, of course) and listening to "Chuck E's In Love." I recall so many Motown songs and Tommy James and CSNY and so many others when I was a kid. Because I had older sisters, I guess I got exposed to music I might not otherwise have listened to. I just know it was all I thought about.

Another thing: I knew every single word of all of those songs I grew up with - from the Motown and rock 'n roll when I was a real little kid to all the stuff I listened to when I was in college. I mean I knew EVERY SINGLE WORLD. Still do. When I hear those tunes, I can still sing along as if it were yesterday.

In high school, I actually got a job - at the FBC department store - mostly so I could afford to buy albums. Some of the first records I bought with what I earned were "Can't Buy a Thrill" by Steely Dan and the Captain something or other by the Doobie Brothers (it had "Long Train Running" and some others).

In college, it got worse, believe it or not. But that's Part II.

These Times

I can't believe it's been nearly a month since I've written. I am just checking in after all the recent bad news about the economy. Every day the news seems to get worse. I get really discouraged because not only can I never get ahead, I can't ever buy anything I want or get my vehicles taken care of or eve get things I need. But tonight, there was a report on the news about the tent cities that have sprung up in California. Most of the people were middle class folks living paycheck to paycheck - like me - and they lost their jobs, lost their homes and now they're on the street. Later in the same newscast, there was a story about all of these Japanese people who've lost their jobs, which often come with housing, and so they also lost their homes. One young couple had to put their baby in foster care because they didn't have any place to go. So sad. I told T later, I guess I shouldn't complain, but instead be happy I have a job and a roof over my head. I need to try to be more grateful and more contented with what I have. A common theme.

Sad Friend

Tonight, I encountered an old friend online. She was sad and depressed because she's got no significant other in her life, and no prospects of one. Now, this girl is beautiful. She's bright, fun, active, independent - she's got a lot going for her. But she's, shall we say, discerning (read, picky - just like me) and hasn't been able to find someone who meets her standards where it hasn't fallen apart. I know exactly she she is and where she's been. Been through it all myself. Didn't know what to say. A therapist once said to me, "Loneliness is hard." In other words, there isn't much anyone else can do for someone who is lonely.

I wish this friend and I lived closer. We could be there for each other. I miss her. And I would like to be there for her. It would be nice for me, too, to have her company again.

I tried to talk her into considering moving back here. There are lots more people here, and so maybe more opportunities for her to meet people. She wasn't into it. Too bad. But, we may vacation together this summer. I'm hoping it works out. What we're planning will be expensive, but I hope we can work it out anyway. It would be great fun.

Sorry this isn't more inspired. Gotta try and get the fire going again - it's out. :-(

Old Time Religion

I am always amazed to learn that friends - current, old, or half-forgotten ones - are seriously engaged in religion. I'm not talking about those that just go to church on Sunday - although that does surprise me about SOME of them, but not the typical straight, married friends. (The latter are conformists in many ways - this is just another way they follow.) No, I'm referring to friends I would never have thought would be active in any church. Some of them actually speak about loving Jesus. I can think of two friends off the top of my head who fit this category. And a third if I count a high school classmate that I was not really good friends with, but whose image in my mind is completely antithetical to the dutiful church-goer. I also have at least two friends whose daughters are involved in missionary work. They don't seem like the missionary type - at all - yet they seem to be.

I can't help but wonder, what are they thinking? I don't know why I feel this way. True, I don't really believe in God and I certainly don't believe in the church, but these are people I respect so I'm not sure why I am so skeptical about this aspect of them. I think it has more to do with my feelings about organized religion than it does with belief in God in general. OK, that statement may not be completely honest. I guess I feel like most truly intelligent people would be more inclined not to believe in God. They would at least have to question it. Beyond that, I don't have positive feelings about organized religion because it's at the root of many of our social problems not just now, but throughout history. It's been the cause of wars since the beginning of mankind. Today, religion is used to persecute and revile gay people. It is the foundation of a lot of bigotry and hatred. I can't understand how people with whom I feel (or felt) a strong bond, based on I suppose some sort of common values, could feel so differently from me on this subject.

One former co-worker I've recently reconnected with on Facebook has made some postings that really got my attention. Under her "interests," she lists Jesus. Under "favorite quotations," it says: John 16:33 " I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." Yeah Jesus!!! Then on the "25 Random Things," she says: "Love God. Want to be a better follower of Him." All of this floors me. This does not sound like the same girl I once knew.

I have another friend whose transformation is no less stunning. She is seriously into her church. Does a LOT of things for and involving the church. At least it's not some born-again, charismatic church. It's more traditional. But still. I just don't get it.

I wish I understood what is up with all these people. People who didn't have religion before have suddenly gotten it - big time. Were their lives so empty that they had to fill the void with something so completely outside of who they once were? That may sound cynical - and it probably is - but it's how it seems to me.

Again, in the name of honesty and full disclosure, I should say that in many ways, I envy them. I envy them their faith and belief in a higher power. It must be comforting. But I can't help but feel it's naive.

I'm not sure I'll ever understand.

One Is the Loneliest Number

Often on my way to work, I see pairs of birds - usually doves - sitting on power lines. My grandmother told me that they mate for life. When I see these pairs of doves, it makes me think of how the entire world seems paired, while I am alone. Oh I know, I know. Poor, poor pitiful me. Morose. Self-pity. All of that. But I still feel it - the feeling of being different, of being an outsider because I don't have a mate, a partner, a significant other.

I know lots of people who are alone, but most of them - my mother, my sister, my friend Debby - are alone because their mates died. It's not like they never had a mate, a husband, whatever... at all. Like me. Oh I've had relationships. None last more than four years. To me, they don't count. I never really had a life partner.

Oh don't get the wrong idea. I don't dwell on this a lot these days. There was a time when I did, though. From my mid-30s until I was 41 and met T, I was consumed with the fact that I was alone when my friends seemed all coupled. I had a desperate fear that I would wind up alone if I didn't hurry up and find a girlfriend while I was still young enough to attract someone. I was so obsessed by it that I got really depressed and had to start taking Prozac. My fears were only confirmed when one girl I really liked told me she couldn't even consider a relationship with me because I was too old for her. (She didn't put it quite that bluntly, but it wasn't too far from that.) I was 37 at the time and at my peak of attractiveness.

Anyway, I did dwell on it on those days. Even lost my faith over it. I prayed and prayed every day for God to, as Joni Mitchell said, "send me somebody who's strong and somewhat sincere." But she never came, and so I gave up talking to God or even believing in him.

I thought about this a lot back then, but for the most part, I haven't thought much about it for quite some time. Until I started seeing those damn birds.