This has been a very disruptive and chaotic couple of weeks, I've got to tell you. Literally, everyone in my life seems to be going through drama of one sort or another. My phone has been relentless, and I am barely keeping one step ahead of my schedule on any given day. Just nuts. The world seems to be keeping pace with me, or at least according to the news. Fires have already started to spring up in our area as the heat associated with Northern California summers has begun to bear down on the area. People are busy shooting other people for no particular reason, not sure there is a good one really, and life, as it will, moves on down the road.
Several weeks ago, I made a plan to meet a friend of mine for an early dinner at a local restaurant. Though male, we are simply old friends who enjoy having a meal and a conversation every couple of months to catch up. He lost his wife about two years after I lost Rick. Neighbors before I moved down the hill, we socialized often as couples, and it nice to see him whenever we can grab a chance to get together. Richard knows we have lunch occasionally. Richard has any number of women friends, and I am fine with that as well. Either you trust a person or you do not, there really is no middle ground. My son will tell me, when I say I have male friends, that this sort of relationship cannot exist without there being some stirring of a romantic feeling usually generated from the male side of the partnership. Men, as he puts it, will be men. In my experience I have found they can exist. There is not always a physical draw between two people. For whatever reason, we are attracted to different people in different ways. Some men, for example, will immediately make my heart skip a beat, while others I could be locked in a cell with for fifty years and never feel any type of lustful response to them. Visa versa for men with women, I am sure. It's pheromones, or the laws of attraction, or simply the heart wants what the heart wants, for whatever reasons.
At any rate, Fred, my "friend" and I made a plan to meet for an early meal. I texted him the day before to confirm, and showed up at the restaurant at the designated time. The first to arrive, I grabbed a table, told the waiter I was expecting someone, and ordered an iced tea. Then I sat. After that, I played with my phone and sat some more. Hmmmm. The waiter kept circling the table pouring me more tea and glancing sadly at me, assuming I had been stood up. Turned out, he was right. I asked for the check, to which he told me the tea was on the house. Pitiful. Fred called later apologizing, saying he got caught up and couldn't get down, suggesting we reschedule for two weeks assuring me he would surely show up the next time. Okay.
So, yesterday was the two week date. Fred texted me the day before saying simply "I'll be there". Soooooo, Susie showed up at the same restaurant, and lo and behold I got the same waiter. I told him someone would be joining me and he looked at me as if to say "hope so", and he set down two menus. Once again, I ordered an iced tea and waited. A half an hour into it, I ordered dinner, ate it, and went home. Really? Good Lord. The waiter was kind enough to say when I was paying for my meal, "I think he missed out". A pity comment, but I'll take it. I told my best friend about it, and she suggested Fred might be having some short term memory issues. I have no idea but my patience was reaching the end of the line.
This morning I heard from Fred once again. This time his apology was profuse. He said he wasn't going to mince words or tell me stories, truth was, he simply forgot. He went on to say he seems to have trouble remembering things lately. Wow. Maybe, as my friend suggested, he is suffering from some early memory issues. This is not beyond the realm of possibility, as we are all ripening more fully with every tick of the clock. Wow. I told him I would give this one more shot ONLY if he picks me up this time, and we confirm the day of the meeting. I am not sitting there again with that waiter. We shall see.
On the subject of memory issues, I'm starting to worry Miss Boo, the Queen of Cats, may be experiencing the onset of dementia. Lately, several times, she has woken up in the wee hours only to wander the house meowing as if looking for someone or something. Poor baby. Age is catching up with my beloved sweet feline, and although it galls me with every breath to watch her slowly fail, I can do nothing to retard the process. Our animals are so special. They bring so much love to the table, and don't ask much in return but a full bowl, a rub on the tummy, and a treat now and again. I will not allow her quality of life to become untenable, but I keep holding out hope we have a little more time together.
I am writing this once again from work on a slooooooow Saturday. So far, I have read To Kill a Mockingbird and Gone With the Wind on my Saturday's here over the past month or so. Next I am on to Hawaii by James Mitchener. I think I am reading this one because I am feeling a strong pull toward the islands lately. I have visited a total of three times, the last time being in the mid nineteen eighties. Someone said the other day it is very commercial now. Hate to bring it up, but it was always commercial. They make their money there from the revenue the tourists generate who flock to their shores. Commercial or not, I'd be on the plane in a hot minute should someone wish to stand me for a round trip ticket. The third time I went, it was for three weeks. This was to be the only first class trip I had ever taken, and remains that as of this writing. My husband, the second in line, traveled a lot for business and had accrued a lot of mileage points. This allowed us to upgrade our seats. I remember thinking "what's the big deal". I didn't really care where I sat as long as the plane landed at the Honolulu Airport when we got to the other end. However, I do have to say I didn't hate first class. If I had the finances allowing me such a privilege, I might indulge in it on long flights. These days, your knees are practically under your chin there is so little leg room. On the last flight I was on, a very large gentleman sat down next to me. He was wedged in that seat like a size ten foot in a size five shoe, I'm telling you. I had chosen the window seat, so this made it a rather tight situation. When he lowered his tray, he had to recline his seat so everything fit in the small space provided. This prompted a complaint from the row behind us, but if he put his seat in the "full and upright position", the tray nearly cut him in half. So like dominoes, one after another the rows behind ours reclined their seats to accommodate the one before them. The man was so nice, and very interesting, but when you are that size it has to be uncomfortable for find yourself in a situation such as that. When we went to lift our glasses, I'm right handed, he was left, we had to coordinate the gesture in order not to pour the drinks in our laps.
But, I digress as usual. On the flight I went first class, I quickly noted the vast differences between flying up front and back in what I call steerage. First, you have room to breathe. Second, there is a mimosa in your hand before the captain ever fires up the engine. Food with actual dishes and utensils, and the food quality is definitely steps above that dry roast beef sandwich you fork out $6.50 for behind the curtains with the rest of the flock. It was wonderful. Likely I won't be experiencing this treat again any time soon, but fun to remember having been able to experience it once.
Richard's brother and his wife called over the past week to tell us about an upcoming trip they are taking. The trip, part cruise, part land, takes in Egypt, Greece, Turkey, and Italy over a three week period. By the time they were done telling us about it, I was positively lime green with envy. I try not to indulge in that feeling. It is counter productive to maintaining well being as a person, but sometimes you have to give in and simply admit you are totally jealous. Here is the time for me. OMG. That would be my dream trip. They are even going to Morocco. Stop it, you are killing me. Well, I am happy for them that they will be enjoying such a magical ride. Such is the way of things. If I'd finished school like my mother suggested.....
Ah well. Happy Saturday to you all. Make it a happy one. Stop and smell the roses, watch a hummingbird, pet a butterfly, whatever it is you do to make your heart smile. Talk soon.
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