Saturday Morning Thoughts Concerning Friday Evening

Sometimes I wonder how much I should say in my stupid blog. It usually ends up that I say pretty much what I want. After all, what's a blog for? Well, here I go again...

Yesterday, Friday evening, I went out for a drink with a guy named Terry, our first time out together. As I think I said in a previous entry, I was looking forward to it with excitement and nervousness. Both of those emotions seemed to intensify throughout Friday and into the early evening. I actually felt a bit of relief when Terry finally showed up.

We went to a nearby pub and took a small booth. Terry ordered a beer and for no good reason, I decided on a white wine. We had a very nice conversation. Most of it was light and breezy. I did my fair share of idiotic giggling. The evening did include my telling him in detail of my cognitive disorders. It is very difficult to explain things that don't seem to make sense, but I did the best I could. If Terry did not quite "get it", he at least seemed to be understanding. That's all I could ask. Terry in turn talked briefly about his marriages, and the mistakes he made in them. He seemed very honest.

Somewhere along the way I realized that I was once again enjoying the company of a man in a potentially romantic manner. It's funny what comes into someone's head, especially my head.

We chatted for about two hours and then Terry said that he had to work the following day so we had better call it a night. I would have gladly allowed the evening to go on for another hour or more, but the approximately two hours was good enough. We planned to go out for only a drink, after all.

Terry took me home and walked me to the door. I asked him if he wanted to step inside, and he did. I remember that I took off my coat while Terry stood by the door with his coat on. I gingerly, but deliberately, stepped close enough to him to where he could take me by the hand or step closer and put his arm around me. He seemed a little bit undecided so I gathered some courage and moved a half step closer. When he placed a hand gently on my shoulder, I moved even closer yet. That seem to do it and he put both of his arms around me, which was my goal. Though it was not exactly what I would call a heated embrace, it was nice.

Terry told me he had a great time. He then casually, almost unconsciously ran his fingertips soothingly up and down my back. That felt wonderful, which I'm sure Terry did not realize. He followed it with a short kiss. That did not feel too bad, either. It was a tiny romantic moment at the end of a pleasant little evening. It has definitely been a while for me; too long.

I'm not going to sit here and declare that Terry is some amazing guy, or our brief time together was something that is going to go down in the annals of great romantic escapades, but it was all I could have asked for and more. I was not disappointed by Terry or the evening. I hope we see each other again. I hope he feels the same.

And those are my thoughts concerning Friday evening.

Recharging With Terry

Well, come Friday I am going out for a drink with Terry, a guy I just met at my fitness center. I mentioned him in a previous blog entry. I am experiencing the standard stuff; excitement mixed with nervousness. I think I am a little less nervous than usual because Terry seems to have a sizable sense of humor. I think I need that from a guy at this point in my life. Still, he is not overbearing with it. His voice is not loud, nor does he continually chatter. I think another factor is that I now meditate daily at the behest of my therapist. Meditation takes a little practice, but I think it is helpful, if not a cure-all, for mild emotional disorders.

Terry is a little older. He is 38. That would not come as a surprise to anyone who has ever read this nitwit blog. I seem to gravitate to older guys. I met him at a fitness center, so of course he is relatively physically fit. That is not to say that he is going to enter a Mr. Universe contest (or whatever those bodybuilding contests are called). He has been married twice, which doesn't bother me much at all, for some reason. Besides, it's not like I've stayed with the same guy for the last ten years. And heck, it's just a first date.  

I'm glad I'm getting going again, socially, and emotionally. That's really the point of this blog entry and why I decided to write it; I'm returning to my life. It's not as if I'm totally recharged. It's more like I am in the recharging process and going out with Terry is a part of that. It's actually good to once again feel the excitement and yes, the nervousness too. They are part of life and that's what I plan to be doing; living.  

A Fool For a Sense of Humor

I have not had much of a love life lately. Let me be more succinct; I have not had a love life lately. This has been largely due to a bout with depression/anxiety. I simply have not felt like being sociable. I have spent time working, visiting the fitness center, wandering the internet, and watching TV, specifically Boston Bruin games, classic movies, and the news.  My libdo has been largely intact but when a person does not feel sociable, that libido doesn't go very far.

I have been feeling better lately. I started out several months ago going to a therapist a few times a week. As the months have gone by I have slowly felt better and have visited my therapist less and less frequently. Following a visit today, my next visit with a therapist is tenatively scheduled for the middle of December. That can be cancelled, depending on how I feel.

A few days ago I briefly spoke with a guy at my fitness center. He was standing at the exit looking out through the glass door, contemplating his trek to his car through a cold rain. As I stood a few feet away, I began searching for my car keys in various pockets. Out of nowhere he mumbled, "This wild weather is supposedly a result of a vortex. A vortex? I thought that my athletic gear was made of vortex."

Apprently I have been out of circulation longer than I realized because I instantly dissovled into hysterics. To be fair, his comedic timing was spot-on; at least I thought so.

The fates must be on my side because yesterday the same guy was on an ellyptical, and as it turned out, he was on the ellyptical right next to the one I decided to use (okay, my using that particular ellyptical may not have been a coincidence). I said hello to him and he gave a brief glance my way, then realizing who I was, returned the glance, allowing it to remain. An instant later came the smile I hoped would follow. I jokingly told him that I was wearing fitness gear made of vortex. His smile became a grin as we continued to pedal our ellypticals. He then told me, off-handedly, that he is a fan of Groucho Marx. Without missing a beat I replied, "one moring I shot an elephant in my pajamas... how he got in my pajamas I'll never know."

Obviously I have watched a lot of classic movies these months.Too many, considering I know Groucho Marx dialogue. But this Friday evening might be different. I just finished a two hour telephone conversation with a funny, nice guy. It seems that Friday I will be socializing.        
   

A Quick End To Frustration

I decided to buy a new sofa. I actually put a little bit of money into it. It is yet to be delivered but yesterday I got the bright idea that I might need an end table; a resting place for my tub of popcorn, glass of wine, and TV remote as I reclined on my sofa. I saw some decent looking end tables on the internet at Affordable Furniture... well, at least the photos were decent looking. I went to the store and it was then I found out that the end table I liked was made by Sauder and needed home assembly. I asked a woman salesperson if the furniture was difficult to put together. She informed me she has assembled some furniture and she was confident that I could put together a simple end table. I already had the required screwdriver and pliers.

I bought the unassembled end table, drove home and slid everything out of the box onto my living room floor. The first thing I did was locate the directions. Step #1 was the attaching of one mechanical part to another. I think the parts were for the table's sliding drawer, but I'm not sure. I'm not sure because I could not get one of the pieces to connect into the other. I stared at the illustrated directions closely. I definitely had the correct two pieces, but it was no good, I simply could not figure how the one piece could possibly attach to the other piece. After about ten minutes of trying to figure out the puzzle, I gave up. Annoyed and frustrated, I dropped all of the panels, table legs, etc., into the box, tossed in the screws, bolts and sundry hardware, and quickly tapped the box closed with about fifteen feet of Scotch tape. About a half hour after making the purchase, I was back at Affordable Furniture returning my unmade end table.

It would have been nice, or at least a bit consoling if I had at least gotten beyond step #1. On the other hand, it is nice that I did not waste two hours putting things together only to get stymied on Step #6, or worse; step #14. It looks like if I'm going to have a decent, new end table at the end of my new sofa, I'm going to have to spend more than $59.95. That's okay, I'll pay it if nothing else; to avoid the agony.  

  

Why Robin Williams Departed

I have not felt like writing in my goofball blog for a while, but I feel like I need to write this entry.

A few days ago Robin Williams died. He committed suicide. Essentially, he died from various psychological afflictions, specifically clinical depression and its cousin; clinical anxiety. These illnesses are not fatal on their own. They kill the afflicted via suicide.

A lot of people suffer from these disorders. I know one personally. In fact, she is typing this sentence. I first experienced clinical anxiety about eight years ago. It was a panic attack that lasted about forty-five minutes; forty-five minutes of living in a nightmare. I have suffered from these attacks many times since. The good part is; I now know what they are and I know that in less than an hour they will pass. 

The anxiety has taken other forms too. I hate to talk about such things because they sound so bizarre, but I will talk of them anyway. For about a month I had problems with any kind of heights. If I stood on a second floor balcony, the anxiety would kick-in and my heart would start to race. Even after I got away from the physical cause, the anxiety would stay with me for sometimes hours. Another time, a year or so later, I had trouble driving over about 25 MPH. I would go 30 and I would start to panic. Freeway driving was impossible. Cognitive therapy, specifically something called "exposure therapy", was monumentally helpful.   

Coincidentally, a few days before Robin Williams death, I called a psychologist and requested an appointment. I have been suffering from ever-increasing symptoms of hypochondria. I wake up in the morning and whatever negative physical sensation I happen to feel, I relate it to a serious illness, which in turn sparks anxiety. I might wake up with a mild headache and deduce that it is a brain tumor. As the day goes along I become hyper aware of other virtually non-existent symptoms of illness which in turn continues to fuel the anxiety. I might be sitting for an hour and when I stand up, a leg is asleep. I will speculate that the brief numbness is the first symptom of multiple sclerosis. I go into a panic and though I never have, and perhaps never would, I once considered calling 911. If all of this sounds just plain weird, well, it sounds just plain weird to me too. And I know something is psychologically wrong with such thinking, which is why I made the call for help. 

To put a positive spin on it; through personal experience and education, I know what anxiety is all about and the disorder itself does not have me worried. I have continued to do my regular daily activities and for the most part I have kept my sense of humor. My guess is that Robin Williams suffered from far more serious symptoms compared to what I go through, symptoms he felt he just could not defeat. A melancholy goodbye to Robin Williams.

It's Been a Year

Almost exactly one year ago I went with my father out into the country on his traditional 4th of July celebration with several of his friends. They shoot-off skyrockets and blow up various items with fireworks, some of them rather large, homemade fireworks. I met a guy there; Dan. He was a really nice guy and we carried on a relatively brief but enjoyable, and at times highly energetic relationship. There are times when I sometimes think of him. I find it hard to believe that it was a year ago.

Yesterday evening my father called me and asked me if I wanted to go with him again this year. He quickly assured me that Dan would not be there. When I still hesitated a bit, he barked, "Katie, we really want you to be in attendance", I kind of giggled and agreed. It's nice to be wanted, such as it is.

So tomorrow morning I will set my alarm to 7AM when I will rise, consume some breakfast, and then drive over to my parents' where my father and I will travel together out to a farm for the annual event. I will likely see the demise of some toy cars and/or boats, a Barbie Doll or two, and some functional but expendable electronic devices. There's nothing quite so oddly entertaining as the sound of Glen Beck's voice being abruptly silenced by a small explosion.   

Sparkly Evenings

If anyone cares anything concerning wildlife, this is a banner year for at least one species of firefly, and their flashing activity is just peaking this week. I do not know much about fireflies other than there are thousands of species worldwide, many of them in the United States. I also know that depending on the species, there are different flashing patterns, different times of the evening when they flash, and even different heights off the ground when they most often flash. In fact, some species actually do not flash and are technically not fireflies, although they are biologically classieifed as such.

Anyway, the firefly species that have been putting on a show lately seem to peak about an hour or so after sunset. They seem to be at their most abundant over seldom-mowed grassy, weedy fields. They have a twinkling type of flash rather than a longer, blinking flash. If you find the right location where they are abundant, and just stare at their show, it really is pretty incredible. It might be worth a trip outside some evening soon, and maybe even a short trip in a car, especially if you had an urge to go out for ice cream anyway.