Author: anthony Page 33 of 72

I started this blog years ago as a journal – to help me remember things and tell stories, even if only to myself. I decided to share these with a larger audience and folks seem to enjoy some of the posts. This one, however, is going to be melancholy and long – no way around it. I think I need to write it, though, so here it goes.

This one starts years ago, when Jeff and I were together and sharing an apartment. It wasn’t a perfect relationship, but it was good and we were happy. And we took care of each other. There was nothing “official” about the relationship, but it mattered to us and that was enough.

He lost his job suddenly and things went into a tailspin. Not in stellar health to begin with, the thought of him not having health insurance was scary for us both.

To my surprise – despite living in a state so Red it might as well be North Texas – my employer offered insurance benefits to domestic partners. Since, again, nothing official – it was a matter of declaring domestic partnership and adding him to my coverage.

So, I filled out the paperwork, we both signed it and with some trepidation I turned it in. Being “out” at work – even just for HR as far as that went – wasn’t something I did without a lot of thought. The polices might be liberal, but the administration was still conservative.

But, my friends and close colleagues knew already and in any case it was the right thing to do.

I helped him with his resume and his job search and cheered him on at every step of the way. But, that elusive job didn’t come and the stresses started to chip away at us.

It reached a point where we were both miserable with each other and when he got a job offer out of state, I decided to end the relationship and not go with him.

I started looking for a house, but still stayed in the apartment and took care of him when he got sick – and continued the insurance.

But, when the open enrollment period came around again, it was time to make some changes. The relationship was done, I was moving out and to continue would have constituted insurance fraud. So, more paperwork and the domestic partnership was dissolved and he was dropped from my insurance.

It was the right decision – just as adding him was the right decision – but it terrible none the less. I had a lot of those “right and terrible” decisions as that relationship ended…

I was moved out and had started to move on when we lost Jeff. The “right” decisions were cold comfort – I could not have saved him, but perhaps I could have made his last days less miserable.

There was the funeral and the clearing out of his apartment – and more paperwork.

Somewhere in there I had logged into the HR system to check something else and had seen that my profile was still listing that I was in a domestic partnership – even though I had submitted this change and he was no longer on my insurance.

I tried to change it there, but the change wouldn’t stick. And the thought of another trip to HR stirred me up far too much – I just couldn’t do it.

Every time I’m been in the system since then I’ve tried to update it – but nothing I tried would work and I logged out each time feeling terrible.

I had the luxury of time, though, since it was just a line on a computer screen as far as everyone but me was concerned.

Last week, though, I realized I needed to finally do something about it. I’m in a new relationship and while there’s nothing official – there’s an opportunity now with the new laws to make it official.

I needed to get this resolved before it became a problem for Jim and I going forward.

I couldn’t find any forms to resubmit and the online still wasn’t working and so I pulled Jeff’s death certificate from the file and went over to HR on my lunch hour. I didn’t know what I would need, but if it was definitive and final they wanted – I could oblige them.

I checked in at the desk, told them I needed to make a status update to my profile and couldn’t do so online. One of HR folks took me back to her office and I explained that I needed to update my record from domestic partnership to single.

She typed for a bit, clicked on some links, and finally reported that it was only showing in one area that didn’t really impact my status – just the way it was displayed. She updated it and – with one last click – finished the change.

She told me it would go into effect overnight and that was it. I left her office, left the HR department, and went outside.

And I found a quiet place and sat for a few moments to settle myself.

It was just one last click that ultimately didn’t change anything – except, perhaps, for me.

I went back to work and when I got home I filed the death certificate again with a certain amount of relief. It’s a terrible document and it breaks my heart every time I see it.

I’ve said goodbye to Jeff many times and I still think of him – trying to focus on the good times. There are still some memories too troubling to revisit yet, but I think getting that status updated has done me some good.

One last click. Another right decision. Less terrible this time but, just… so sad.

The sun is shining on this cold fall day and I think this is as good a place as any to end this story. There’s a sense of relief and maybe a sense of hope as well.

Saturday was a bright and sunny October day – so, where was I? In the basement, happily working on my Halloween costume. But, I needed materials to keep going – spray paint, electrical tape, and zip ties.

I took a break and texted one of friends from work who’s been out on leave to see if she might be around for a visit. She was out running errands too and I was just wrapping things up at Home Depot while she was at a nearby craft store. Figuring to cut to the chase, I headed over to the craft store assuming that I could find her there – provided she hadn’t changed her hair color or height.

She was surprised that I found the aisle that she was in and I shrugged and said, “It’s not that big of a store,”

We then went went over to Starbucks for some green tea and really nice conversation outside. So, my beautiful fall day wasn’t all in the basement – though I did head back down when I got home.

———————-

I had a dream Sunday night that I was trapped in a huge library with a bunch of people – and a horde of demons that looked like people. Except, of course, they were trying to kill us.  In terrible ways…

For some reason – dream logic – the high levels of iron in my blood (true) gave me increased durability and strength (not true). It was also toxic to the demons and I spent the rest of the dream – subjectively hours – fighting off waves after wave of demons. Some I just beat in hand-to-hand combat. Others were tossed over the railing to a lower floor to be dealt with later.

I woke up exhausted – but I think I was winning.
———————

Today, I was outside and decided to mow. I was working on the front yard and had been going for a little while when I got near the street. There was a car coming so I stopped and waited and while I did, I flipped my hand over to pull my glove back to look at my watch.

Now, things started to happen very fast.

I saw something white on the back of my tan gloves.

{Egg case…Spider egg case!}

I knocked it off the back of my glove with my other hand and had just enough time for…

{That came off pretty easily, must not have been there that…}

And that’s when I saw the spider.

{SPIDER! HUGESPIDER! OHSHITSHITSHIT!}

I brushed the huge spider off my glove as well, then tore off both gloves and frantically brushed my arms down as well – in case there was more than one.

I looked down and saw the huGE FREAKING SPider scurry off, Then picked up my gloves.

{If that was on the outside, what’s on the inside!?!?}

I tried to peer into the darkness of the gloves, then shrugged and mentally psyched myself up and put the gloves back on – and got back to mowing.

I don’t know what the driver of the car thought.  They didn’t stop so my freak out was either not serious enough looking to warrant stopped – or so insane that it was safer to just drive on.

My gloves are, incidentally, no longer stored in the garage.

I worked late today and then got my hair cut after work. It was around dinner time by the time I was done with the rest of my errands and I decided to stop by Wendy’s for a quick meal.

I ordered my usual: Single combo, lettuce only, no cheese (you have to say ‘no cheese’ or you get cheese – it’s the default). Medium size. Chicken nuggets, regular, with BBQ sauce.

I paid for my meal and stepped to the side and back away from the counter to wait. The group after me ordered a few things – including chicken nuggets and fries.

The clerk set a tray out in front of me and put an order of chicken nuggets and fries on the tray. The woman in the group stepped in front of me, picked up a nugget to eat, then set it down and said,

“I hope those were mine,”

She then turned and saw me. I cocked my head to one side and raised an eyebrow.

She, and the rest of the people with her, were Mortified.

For my part, I’m not a germaphobe. As long as she didn’t sneeze directly on her hand right before she picked up the chicken nugget I would have been fine with it. Honest mistake, not a big deal, I’m not going to die.

She apologized and was a little flummoxed. I shrugged and suggested we just swap out the nuggets when the next batch comes out.  Whatever.

When the clerk came back over she tried to explain what happened and used this phrase:

“I grabbed this guy’s nuggets,”

No, my dear, you did not – I thought. I would have noticed that.

And thinking such, I almost burst out laughing.

The clerk – who had clearly been working a long shift already – shrugged when the woman moved the nuggets to her tray and then brought me a fresh batch, along with my burger.

The group apologized again and I said it was no problem and went to eat my food.

Odd encounter, to say the least.  Oh, well, at least I got a good story out of it.  Actually, I guess she did too – if she’ll admit to it.

I found out today that 2 more people from the computer center are leaving. That’s three in as many weeks, I think. Both are hard-working, bright, and engaged in the success of the division and the University. The best kind of co-workers – and friends.

We’re shocked – but not surprised. Happy for them – and sad because they are leaving.

It wasn’t that long ago that I looked at the whole division as unstoppable. Impossible task? Check. Unreasonable deadline? Check. Brilliant solutions and hard work? Check and check.

Now? I’m not so sure. Those that remain after the devastating cuts and the voluntary exits have an uncertain future. How will we get everything done just to keep the lights on – much less innovate and more forward? I don’t know.

Our group is moving to a new division and while I will miss my friends and co-workers, I think it’s a good move for us.

So, I’m feeling a little down tonight.

———————-

The only really enjoyable thing about the long drive back from Hilton Head – besides the company – was watching the time readout on the GPS compress.

The GPS estimated our arrival time based on the speed limits in the areas where we traveled. By exceeding that limit – shhhh – by just a little bit, we rewound the arrival time.

Not by much, mind you. We weren’t going that fast. And we would “lose ground” when we stopped for food. Still, it was a little empowering to make time and space bend to my whim on a macro scale. You usually don’t get that unless you approach the speed of light.

And we weren’t going that fast.

Of course, the reverse also holds true. If you go slower than the speed limit, time gets added onto the arrival. We had this once driving back to Akron in a snowstorm last winter. For a while, it looked like we might never get home. It was like some kind of freaking Tau Zero or something.   (Look it up, I’m not going to do everything for you)
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Finally, one of my video game characters died. It was in Hardcore mode and while she was a bad-ass, we got in over our heads. The voodoo priestess and I had some pretty great adventures and logged a lot of hours together, but in the end the Angel of Death was too much for her in Torment level 4. She, and her amazing gear, are gone to the Unformed Lands.

Eheria, you were great and you will be missed.

The best meal I had on the trip was a Low County (shrimp) Boil. Sort of a staple for the area it has shrimp, potatoes, corn on the cob, and sausage.

It’s a mess to eat – like, moist towelette mess – but really good. I ate till I was stuffed and enjoyed every bite.

Oh, and the restaurant was called Captain Woody’s – naturally.

We also has some pretty good pizza and some fairly good mexican – sort of a tour of meals – but nothing topped the boil.

———————

I managed to keep up with the sunscreen and didn’t burn except for a bit on the last day. It was a beach day – a little cloud cover – and I didn’t apply after I got out of the water from my swim. Got a little burn on my face and chest, but some aloe has helped and I’m not pink anymore. I’ve had much worse – one year sent me to the stat care for treatment. I probably get too much sun in the summer to be healthy, but the winters in Ohio are brutal and the memory of those nice days is all we’ve got to get through it.

—————–

The drive back home to Ohio was… grueling. 12 hours – it included some stops for gas and food, but it was still long. We took turns driving and listened to a lot of music. The country was pretty enough, but I was already missing one of my co-workers that had his last day while I was gone on vacation. And a former co-worker had messaged me about some disturbing emails that had been released via a public records request about the recent cuts. So, I had that in my head as well.

But, made it home safe and ThunderCat was delighted to see me. We played a bit while I unpacked, then he sat with me while I got my video game fix.

On Monday, back to work and the unenviable task of trying to get caught up on the accursed email.

So, good vacation and good to be back. Going to work on the Halloween costume today – though this may be the last one for a while. Things have… changed at UA and it’s just not as fun of a place anymore.

The weather for most of the trip was amazing. Sunshine, cool breeze – perfect for being on the beach.

I took to the water as soon as possible and put some distance between myself and the shore to avoid running into anyone as I did “laps” up and down the coast. It was really just one lap – swim in one direction for a while and then turn around and swim back.

I was out away from everyone and could still touch the bottom – so, I took off my suit and wrapped it around my wrist and swam off.

If you’ve never done that in the ocean, I highly recommend it. I was fast and strong and water slid past me like I was some kind of ocean deity.

When I got tired, I put my suit back on and swam back to the shore.

I did that a few more times while we were at the beach – might have been one of my favorite parts of the trip. I felt… free. Just me and the saltwater.
———————

I did a lot of reading in the week we were there – 7 novels in all. I’ve always been fast, but the peaceful surroundings and big chunks of quiet time really encouraged me to absorb the stories at a blazing speed. The trilogy that the cool clerk at the bookstore liked was excellent (The Southern Reach), one of the ones I brought with me was amazing (The Long Earth), and I read the first two in Octavia Butler’s series (Lilith’s Brood)which I’d read before and enjoyed – but The Returned was a massive disappointment. Was it a zombie novel? Were some of the returned actually “good”? Was it connected to the submerged village? Why were there power outages? Did the returned have mental powers? What’s up with sewage? If the recently dead animals came back, did that mean that anyone who died would now come back? Why this one town?

All of that – and so much more – was left totally unresolved by the ending. The book just… stopped.

And I was pissed. It was a big book and I could have been reading something else. Huge waste of time. I was cranky about that for hours.

——————

On the rare overcast day, we took a trip to nearby Beaufort. Lunch was good, the gelato was better, and the buildings were… old. I didn’t get much out of that other than some exercise, but Jim did his best to fill the memory on his camera phone with photos. I checked out the flowers and the Spanish moss – and the cemetery was pretty cool. It was a quiet day and I enjoyed the peace.

A few months ago, Jim took a vacation to Asheville, NC. He wanted to see the artisans of the quirky town and for the Fall vacation to Hilton Head, he wanted us to stop there.

We left very early on a Friday morning and drove from Ohio to Asheville and got there in the afternoon. We toured the galleries and shops – taking a walking tour of the unrefined parts of the city. One of the stops Jim wanted to make was an artist who worked in clay and made stylized figures that she then glazed with patterns and textures. She called them “souls”.  It was his favorite artist in the area and the last stop on our walking tour. It got to be late in the day and we were hustling to make sure we go there before it closed.

In time, we made it to the studio and I got to see the figures and meet the artist. Jim picked up one of the souls a few times – but it was pricey and he kept setting it back down. When we were ready to go, I picked up that same figure and took it to the counter and bought it – then handed it to Jim as an early Christmas present.

He was taken aback, but really happy. And happy surprises are pretty much my favorite thing. So, Jim got his soul.

—————————-
We stayed the night in Asheville, then toured the downtown area the next day. Quirky, still, and fun with interesting shops and plenty of people watching. The best was a great bookstore where I bought a trilogy based solely on the author. When I took them to the counter, the clerk asked if I’d read others by the author and we quickly agreed on a favorite.

It was a really pleasant conversation and a far cry from Books a Million. This was someone who was not only interested in books, but interested in the customers. Are the books better for it? No, the books stand on their own and were quite good. But the experience was better, by far.  I sort of made a friend – if only for a short while – based on a love of reading.

I also got a sticker that said, “Hell hath no fury like me when I’m slightly inconvenienced and hungry”

Which is very true.

———————-

From Asheville, we drove on to Hilton Head and arrived in the evening. By the time we had groceries for the week and were unpacked, it was late and dark. Jim wanted to take a walk on the beach and while I was tired, I agreed. I took a glowstick with me and marked the entrance to the path back to the condos, but it wasn’t enough.

We got lost on the beach in the dark.

And someone took/stole the glowstick.

We wandered up and down the dark sand looking for a familiar path, but we hadn’t seen it in the light and couldn’t find the right one. Finally, we gave up and picked a path to take us out past the condos to the street and from there, we took the long walk back to the numbered building. We had over-shot the correct path by quite a ways and it was 11:30 before we made it back to the condo. Not the best first trip to the beach, but we got some exercise – and the stars were pretty amazing.

I left work a couple minutes early today, then walked across campus and downtown to the Akron Art Space building. I was a couple minutes early when I arrived and I wandered around – postcard in hand – looking for the photographer’s studio.

We met up in the stairwell, realized we were looking for each other, and headed over to his studio.

First up was the model release form on an ipad while he got the camera set up. Then I “de-shirted” and sat on the stool facing away from the camera while he adjusted the focus.

He told me that he was pleasantly surprised at the number of people that he’d photographed that had tattoos – said it added something interesting to the photos.

He had me remove the postcard and the rest of the gear from my back pockets – and suggested I tuck the waistband of my briefs back down.  Not an underwear model – this time around.

He also asked me what kind of art I did and when I told him Origami he said, “Oh, the origami guy. Did you leave a paper crane when you were last in the building for the art walk?”

I told him, yes, that’s the kind of thing I do.

Then, it was time to get started.

The nice thing about having pictures of your back taken is you don’t have to worry about your facial expression.

I smiled anyway.

He took a few shots of me seated and we had only one small awkward moment when he said my left arm looked unnatural in that position  – and I had to explain that it wouldn’t straighten out any further because of the break. It wasn’t a big deal though and we moved to another pose.

Then it was time to stand up and he moved the stool out of the way. I stood where the stool was and he said I had hit the mark almost perfectly and he hardly had to adjust the focus.

Super model – naturally.

A few standing shots and we were done. I put my shirt on and before I left I quickly made him a paper crane while he told me a story about finding a small Buddhist shrine on a road trip and seeing all the paper cranes there.

We shook hands and I headed out. When the project is done, I’ll get a print of my photo.

So, I’m officially an art model. And, I have to admit, I did walk around this evening with just a little bit of a strut to my stride.

YOU.

BETTER.

WORK IT.

Went to the Highland Square Fest this weekend and while it rained most of the time, it was still good to get out and about for a while. I kept my wallet, keys, and phone in a plastic bag in my pocket and I figured the rest of me would dry out eventually.

Got some popcorn, wandered around and saw the art vendors and street performers, and hung out with friends – listening to the music and eating so-so pizza.

The acapella group from UA was there for a while and they did a good job – though like the steel drum band a lot of that goes a long way for me. They were very… earnest, though.
—————
When I got home I cleaned up a bit in case it worked out for people to come over. I cleaned the bathroom and did the dishes – then got out the vacuum to finish off the living room.

I did the floor, then turned the dial to use the attachments and get the curtains where Thunder likes to brush against. It wasn’t doing a very good job and I checked the dial to see that it was in the right spot.

It wasn’t. I had been on attachement mode while cleaning the floor and floor mode when I worked on the curtains. Had to the entire living room again because, apparently, I can’t read.
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Years ago, I made an origami crane out of a coke can – just to see if I could do it. The end result was only “close” to a crane – but I was still pretty proud of it. Got cut up a bit though – and neglected to get a picture of it.

As part of my unofficial “fold-anything” project, I decided to try this again with a 7 Up can and document it.

I’ve added this to my tumblr account here:

Not the best crane I’ve ever done – but recognizable.

I ran out of time today to get everything done that I intended to at work. There just weren’t enough hours – and that was with working through my lunch.

When my regular quitting time came and started to slide past, I stopped and took stock. I could keep working off the clock until I met some artificial deadlines, or I could go home.

So, I took a deep breath and went home. The work will be there for me tomorrow and I’ll be alert, fresh, and more efficient.

It wasn’t easy – I like getting things done and don’t like things unfinished – but it was necessary.
———————

One of my stops this evening was at the bookstore. I found a book that I wanted, then steeled myself and went up to the counter.

Do I have a membership card? No.
Had I heard about them? Yes.
Did I want to sign up for one? No.
Was I sure? The deals were really excellent and verbose. No thank you.
Would I like to have “Free” magazines shipped to my house? No thank you.

Gauntlet surpassed, I decided I needed a cookie. Not wanted, NEEDED.  And it had damn well better have chocolate chips.

I made my way to the coffee shop, ordered a cookie, and went to pay for it.

Did I have a membership card? No.
Would I like to sign up for one? FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, NO!

A plague on your house and your membership card!

A thousand curses!

NEVER!

Or, rather, no thank you.

It’s not their fault. I get that. But I just want a damn book and a damn cookie without being interrogated.

And, yes, I protest too much.

But, as much as I like bookstores, I can do without this one. And when I turn my back on a retail establishment, it stays turned.

I’m looking at you Chik-Fil-a and Hobby Lobby. Goodbye, Books a Million.
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On the trip back, I noticed again the signs on the highway that proclaimed:

“Drive Sober or Get pulled over”

and then a note about traffic fatalities for the year and a percentage increase from last year.

So, am I meant to obey because I might get arrested or that I might die? Granted, neither are a good option – but I wonder who this is intended for?

Those that don’t drink are not the audience. It wouldn’t occur to them to suddenly start and then immediately take to Ohio’s roads.

Those that do would either ignore the signs or would responsibly get someone to drive them anyway.

Would anyone see a sign like that and actually be influenced by a catchy phrase or an abstract number? Seems odd – but, then, I’m frequently surprised at the things that influence humans.
———————-

Finally, I heard back from the photographer who is taking pictures of peoples’ backs for an art project. And I’m signed up! Next Tuesday after work I’m headed to the studio for some photos. Should be fun to actually be a part of some art.

And the 15 minutes of fame starts…