Giving To Myself

I give money away. I know why I do it. I've known for a long time even though I don't like to think about it. I give money away because it makes me feel good. If giving money did not make me feel good, I would not do it. I'd keep my $100 a month or so that I give. My motives are purely selfish. Here's something else; I would never give so much money away that it would compromise my lifestyle. I have limits, selfish limits.

I will often give when I see photos or videos of malnourished kids or starving animals. The worse off the child or animal, the better it makes me feel to give. If there were a text-only appeal for money to go to millions of people needing medical supplies in India, I doubt I would give. Add a couple of graphic pictures, and I will get out my credit card. The photos will make me feel better about giving.

A few days ago I gave $50 to my alma mater, the Cornell Lab of Ornithology. I did some birding the other day and saw a shore bird that I could not identify. So I went to the internet to try to figure it out. A banner came up on the internet page asking for donations to the Cornell Lab or Ornithology. There were images of birds. It worked; I gave.

Mostly I give to environmental causes. Nothing brightens my day like giving $25 to the Wildlife Conservation Society. It better brighten my day, or I'm keeping the money.

A Blog Entry For Tuesday

I did not know what to name this blog entry, so I went with the obvious.

Anyway, I think I am going to have to call Terry "my boyfriend". I'm hesitant to do that because; #1, it seems kind of early in our relationship to give him that status, and #2, he is not exactly a boy. On the other hand, he came by yesterday evening, and he left this morning. So he's not exactly a stranger.

We did not plan on his staying overnight. Things just happened spontaneously, and when it was about the right time last night for him to leave, we both knew he wasn't going anywhere. This morning, being Tuesday morning, it was a work day for both of us. So at 6:30 in the morning, Terry left to go to his place where he would change for work. I, on the other hand, had made up my mind that today was going to be an unscheduled day off.

At about 10 AM I decided to grab my binoculars and go out bird watching. I haven't mentioned my bird watching in this blog in a long time. In recent months I haven't felt as enthused about it, or at times, enthused about anything, but through that time I have gone out on occasion.

To the average person, and even the average bird watcher, there is nothing quite so boring as bird watching in New England on a late autumn day. The weather is often not very good, and almost all of the colorful birds have long since departed for the season. There are no indigo buntings, no scarlet tanagers, no golden-winged warblers to see. I went out just to, well, get out. Today was fairly mild for this time of the year, and pretty wet. I did not care. I wanted to breath some fresh, cool air and gaze up to something other than a ceiling. There were no walls restricting either my vision, or my walk. It felt very liberating.

With the sky gray and the trees leafless, everything can seem so drab. But not all the birds are gone. The blue jays offer a pretty blue, the cardinals a wonderful red. I did not complain.

Katie the Boozer

I have recently been partaking in hard liquor, bourbon in particular. It has just been on a few occasions and I have never gotten drunk. I have gotten a little bit tipsy. This sudden fondness for spirits, if fondness is what it is, is due entirely to the company I've been keeping the last few weeks. Terry has a favorite bourbon; Knob Creek. A few evenings ago we were out and at his suggestion, I decided to try a glass of bourbon in lieu of my normal glass of wine.

Before I took my first taste, Terry instructed me on how to drink it. He told me to begin by just taking about a thimble full and allow it to wander around inside my mouth for a moment before allowing it to trickle down my throat. He said that is how you appreciate a good bourbon, scotch, rum or most other quality liquors. I did as instructed. It produced a rather nice, warm, oral sensation, not exactly a "taste" but more of an agreeable tingle, along with a pleasant aroma.

Terry said that a person either appreciates a good liquor, or he doesn't. He emphasized that it is not something everyone enjoys and there is certainly nothing wrong with that. It is a matter of preference. I have to say that I appreciated it. Of course at the time I was kind of dressed up, and just sitting in a somewhat dusky tavern holding a glass of bourbon made me feel like one of those sophisticated Bond girls from movies. Okay, I'm not exactly a Bond girl, but that's okay; Terry is not exactly Mr. Bond.

He is coming by in a little while and so I made a side trip after work and bought a bottle of Knob Creek. It was actually kind of pricey but that's okay; I bought it for both him and me.

A Tiny Proud Moment, Courtesy of My Dad

I own a Toyota Prius. I think it is a 2008 and the only color I can put on it is "red". It is definitely red. Several evenings back I jumped in it to get some milk at the convenient store down the street. I pushed the start button and put it in reverse. I was about a half a block down the street when I noticed that the dashboard was dark. The car was running okay so I decided to continue with my errand and worry about the dashboard lights the next day. I figured I could have my dad look at it, or take it to a service garage. However, when I got to the store, the engine would not shut off. There is an off/on button on the dash and it would not shut off the engine. I went into a panic.

I drove straight to my parents' house and pulled into their driveway. When I came to a stop, I kind of automatically pushed the off/on button. This time it worked and the car shut off. I sat there for a few seconds and then pushed the button again. Just as it should, the engine came on, dash lights included. I pushed the button a third time, and as it is supposed to; the engine shut off. A fourth push of the button and everything came on again. Everything looked okay. I decided I'd go on home and not bother my dad with a problem, at least not right then.

Well, I knew there was a problem so the next day I called Dad and told him what was going on with my car. He suggested that I take it to the dealer and have them run a diagnostic on it. He warned me that since the problem was intermittent, they likely would not find anything.

Later on that day, an hour or so before my car's service appointment, my dad called me to tell me he thought I had a problem with something called the "cluster meter". He said that a failing cluster meter will make everything on the dashboard quit working, including the off/on button. Dad said that the problem is rare but that they do fail often enough that Toyota has offered a warranty on all bad Prius cluster meters. My father is always watching out for me, and he had done a little research into my situation. Good thing since I still do not know exactly what a cluster meter is.

So anyway, I took my Prius to the dealer's service department and described the problem. The guy behind the computer at the service desk told me they would run a diagnostic on it. I agreed that a diagnostic would be the logical step, but that they likely would not find the problem since it is only an occasional occurrence. The service guy looked at me as though I was from outer space, however he did kind of agree with me, saying that a diagnostic won't necessarily find every problem.

A few hours later, the diagnostic being completed, I was informed that everything looked fine and there seemed to be no problem. I then calmly said, "Well, I figured the diagnostic would not find the problem, but I know what the trouble is. The cluster meter is failing."

The guy sort of sarcastic chuckled and replied, "Well, I doubt that."

I let loose a sarcastic chuckle of my own and stated, "No, it's the cluster meter. It's an uncommon problem, but not so uncommon that Toyota does not have a warranty covering Prius cluster meters."

The guy quickly did a search on his computer and guess what; there is a warranty on the cluster meter. I think the discovery put the service guy in a mild state of shock. "Wow, you're right," he muttered.

"Yes, I know," I proudly responded.

They did not charge me for the $115 diagnostic. There is a cluster meter ordered and it will be installed at no charge due to the warranty. I'm telling you; there's no better dad than mine.

My Overnight Guest

I had an overnight guest last night; Terry. He left this morning about a half hour ago. Last evening was our third time out together. I usually don't become fully intimate with a guy that quickly but to be honest... painfully honest, I have been needy lately, needy in ways only a man can satisfy. I did not know when the evening began that Terry would be staying over. He did not know either, of course. It was just sort of a spur of the moment thing. When I asked him to stay, for a few seconds he thought I was joking. We were standing there with our arms around each other and when I gave a little smile, and squeezed him a little tighter, he knew I was serious. He still gave it a few seconds of thought, but he finally gave a little nod.

Terry did not ask about birth control or condoms. I thought he might, but he didn't. I don't too much concern myself with condom use. I guess I figure that if I'm going to know a guy well enough to ask him to sleep with me, I know him well enough to trust him in other ways. As for birth control, that has not an issue since I was 18 years old.

As for the evening, I will say only that Terry was sweet, sometimes funny, and a provider of what I needed. What I needed was intimacy in all its forms; sexual fulfillment, contentment, and the simple warmth of an affectionate male companion through the night. Hopefully Terry enjoyed the evening too.

I do worry that the suddenness of the evening might negatively change Terry's opinion of me in some way, after all, I really like him. If I didn't like him he would not have been an overnight guest last night. I hope he understands that. I think he does. Neither of us is 19 years old.

As I often do, I will now sit here and try to decide if I really want to publish this blog entry. If you are reading this, then I must have decided to click the "Publish" button.

Complete Relaxation

Today I'm off to my parents for Thanksgiving. I'll help my mom with the bird, yams, salad and various other fixings. Dinner will be at its traditional Thanksgiving time; 3 PM. I think my Uncle Wayne is going to have dinner with us. I'll find out for sure when I get there.

Last night I did something I have not done before in my life, god only knows why I've neglected this practice. Last night I took a warm bubble bath with a glass of red wine alongside. In fact, sitting on the bathroom floor a few inches from the tub was the bottle of merlot. Truth is, I had two glasses and a splash; just about half a bottle. Wow, was it relaxing. I put on headphones, listened to some meditation music, and laid back. Utter serenity. It's a wonder I did not drown. I thought about having a couple of scented candles flickering along the edge of the tub, but I didn't want to go overboard with the notion.

Of course there is a price to be paid for such tranquility. Today I have dry, itchy skin, courtesy of a combination of spending time in the cold weather, contrasted with the warm, sudsy water. When my skin gets a little dry it just itches annoyingly. When it gets very dry a red rash appears that itches incessantly. Today I have a couple of patches of redness. Lotions have little effect on my dry skin. I just have to suffer for a few days. Still, I think it was worth it. It was forty-five minutes of peaceful, wine-aided bliss. I'll have to go back to that place again sometime. It'll be sometime after my skin recovers.  

Early Onset Nostalgia

I was about to go home for the day when I stop and reminisced about a few things from long ago. That led me to the notion that I am pretty nostalgic. I've known for a while that I'm something of a sentimentalist. So much so that I thought I might as well stop and spend a minute or two to write about it in my blog while it was on my mind.

So, yes, I'm not yet 30 years old and I have these odd bouts of nostalgia or sentimentality. Sometimes I wonder if this condition might be linked to my various difficulties with depression I've mentioned in this goofball blog. They aren't too terribly different, when it comes right down to it. It's as if the two conditions kind of overlap.

Unlike depression, I actually like being nostalgic. I sometimes think back to when I was about six or eight years old. I can recall riding up and down the street on my bicycle with hardly a care in the world. I recently visited my parents and I happened to half jokingly mention to my mother the birthday party I had when I turned six years old. My mom immediately disappeared only to return ten minutes later with a handful of photos from that afternoon. I still remember the names of every one of those eight kids seen in the pictures.

My mother is painfully nostalgic. She still occasionally meets with friends she first knew almost fifty years ago. She always goes to class reunions. She would not miss one. I have asked her why exactly she enjoys such things. Without missing a beat, she stated that she likes to think about the days when she was younger. If class reunions consisted of nothing but former classmates discussing their ailments, or passing around photos of their grandchildren, I'm sure that my mother would never attend. For my mom, it's about revisiting the past. I kind of know what she means.

My father likes to stay as youthful as possible, but he doesn't really harken back to his bygone days. Now and then he will mention someone from his past, but that's about as far as it goes. I guess in at least one respect, I take after my mom.

I think it is true that a person views their memories through rose-colored glasses. I distinctly remember having a wonderful time at age seven speeding down the sidewalk on my bicycle. Oddly, I do not remember crashing once. Given that I am something of a klutz, I know there had to have been some disastrous wrecks complete with tears. I don't remember one of them.