What is it about the 27th year?

I often find myself thinking while I'm working...which I do from home, sitting here in front of the computer, pondering.

Winehouse is the latest, Morrison, Joplin, Hendrix, Cobain, blues artist Robert Johnson, Rolling Stones founder Brian Jones...the list goes on and on and on...what is it about the age 27?

There has to be some major shift when you hit 27 that makes things like this happen...there just has to be.  Think about when you were 27, did something major happen, or right around that time-frame?

C moved in with me 2 months before her 27th birthday, moving to FL from WI, and we'd never met in person.  We're still together almost 5 years later.

I got together with my ex, of almost 10 years, when I was 27 and proceeded to buy my first house and settle down.  The house is still in my name, btw, even though I'm not living in it and have no financial obligation to it anymore (love these stupid banks).  Same said ex left me right after her 27th birthday...

It's strange, to me, that so many major events happen around the age of 27.  Does anyone else out there have this same experience?  If so, please share!

-AA

I'm kind of digging this...just give it a minute to pick up.

My poor finger...

April, this is my finger - I wake up one morning with it like this:

Nice, eh?

I go to the doc, he thinks I probably just jammed it up at some point...and I can't disagree with him because I've been known to do things like that.  I broke my hand when I was in high school (age 16 or 17) from running down the haul and I hit it on a door jamb...and, that was that.  It swelled up, and it was broken (and, interestingly enough, it was the bone right below THIS swollen ring finger - so that was over 20+ years ago, and now the finger is swelling?  Strange).

Doc tells me, "if it doesn't get better in a week or so, go in for an x-ray" - so, we do that - nothing is broken.  He then sends me in for an MRI.  Nothing looks bad, it's just "non-specific swelling."  He wants me to see a hand doc.

I have a lovely hand doctor at Eaton Orthopaedics (Dr. Carlan) of whom did my carpal tunnel surgery last year on my right hand - it's healed terrifically, so I decide to go see him and find out what he thinks.  He says, "I have no clue what you did to your finger...we need to operate on it to figure out what's going on, I believe."  So...ya...too far to drive.  I get a referral from him, and he's nice enough to send up all the documents to me via e-mail, etc., and I see a new doctor at SHANDS in Gainesville.  Nice guy, really seems to know what he's talking about, and he says the SAME thing that Dr. Carlan did.  So, surgery it is...over a month later.

I had surgery at the end of May, and here's the immediate result (thankfully this was outpatient):

My whole hand looks puffy, and it really wasn't that bad.  I believe this was taken two weeks later, before they took out the stitches. 

Above, my finger post stitch removal...not too bad, really - the swelling is starting to go down, and it looks a lot better than it did.  Interesting thing is they told me on my follow up appointment, "the joint looks good, nothing came back from pathology, which is really good and what you want, but we have no idea how your finger ended up like it did."  NO idea?  Really?  Me either.  Almost $3,000 to get my finger fixed, and no one has any clue what's wrong with it (I'll be paying that off for awhile...), but at least I can bend it again.  I can ALMOST make a fist where pills don't fall out of my hand...it's not 100%, but before the surgery I could barely bend that finger.

Now I'm not sure I'll ever be able to wear my wedding band again, unless we get it re-sized (gold and platinum...not a cheap endeavor, so that will be awhile)...I guess I should just be grateful that my finger is healing, I've got a great surgeon (whom I go see again next week), and that C thinks my scar is sexy.  ;-)  Now I just have to come up with a good back-story for it!

 -AA

Randomness...

I really should do some learning on how to change my background and make things a little more interesting around here...ah, well, maybe eventually.

This morning I saw two rabbits in the back yard and took a couple of pics, which should eventually get loaded up here.
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Our coffee maker, for a third time (and we just replaced this one about a month ago) once again got a German Cockroach infestation.  That's it, I'm over it.  I bought parts today to go into my 6-cup Pyrex (7756b) Percolator.  I have a 7826b, also, that was my grandparents on my dad's side, but need some help with getting that one working again.  It seems the stainless steel stem won't hold the glass insert up correctly - dad things he can make a washer or some-such to hold it in place.  I'm sure he can.  I cannot wait for normal coffee - McDonald's the last two days, and tomorrow we start with instant coffee (ugh)...I could just drink black tea, but I like coffee.  So, until I get the percolator(s) up and running and learn to properly use them on my gas stove, this will have to do.  I'm actually pretty happy about stepping back into a little old-school coffee making.
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Last night, we had some pork chops that our lovely neighbor gave us (we gave her a ton of food when we changed our way of eating, and now she's slowly giving us food back, which is really quite considerate of her.  She's 71, and awesome.  We met her via my mom, and I'm grateful mom introduced us).  I have pictures of our cooking and finished products, as we're very proud:

 Our pork chops (butterflied) with spices, being cooked - and apple/cranberry/ginger chutney.

 Our delicious finished product on Fiesta Ware plates.

Yummmmmmmmmmo!  It's lovely to be able to cook really good meals at home.  I know for some this might not be that amazing, but for us it's something new we've never done before.  I did NOT take a picture of the (canned) green beans as they really weren't that interesting.  LOL

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This is what we found yesterday morning in our driveway as we were going to leave:

The holes in this tree are quite impressive - woodpeckers and boring critters have all butt rotted the thing through.  There's still another full piece and a half piece to this tree yet to fall...guess we'll have to figure out how to get it down safely.  First, we have to chop this stuff up so we can move it.

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Saturday night...we decided to try out a George Thorogood song in literal form...enjoy!

 One Bourbon, One Scotch and One Beer...

-AA

I wonder...

I find myself wondering if anyone who "knows" me is reading this (as in, anyone I haven't told about this, that might not like some of the things I'm saying).  If there is some person, such as an ex reading this (and it's easily possible they found this via someone I did share it with and/or via another blog, as I do read at least one blog in common with someone I'm an ex with), then so be it.  

I'd like to take this moment in time to remind anyone of whom might be someone that knows me that this is MY memory of things, and I'm keeping "AA" so that I won't offend you outright to the public, thus the anonymous nature of things.  If you don't like what I'm saying, leave a comment, or deal with it.  If you're mad at me, that's your prerogative, just as it's mine to write down my thoughts on the past as it helps me understand the present and future.

That being said, if you're still reading, welcome!

-AA

So not my mom...and so not my wife!

This is C, dressed up in some items we found of my mom's in a bag of things my father dropped off to us a couple of weeks ago (the scarf, glasses and gloves) - NOTHING I've ever seen my mother wear in all my years of knowing her, living with her, seeing her daily as a child...and things she'd kept for over 40 years.  Mom was a pack-rat, and this pic is lovely, so I had to share.  

And...some buttons from the collection of odd buttons dad brought over, as well.  These were the cream of the crop, so to speak.  Enjoy!

 -AA

 

What did we do to the company car?

The company car, Portland, Oregon, circa 1990-1991.  TL and I decided that it would be fun to give MY companies car the "Maxi Seal of Approval", and so we did.  We took a picture with their letterhead and then moved the approval to the passenger's side door.  Poor Ben, the guy who looked like Emilio Estevez (with a paunch and beard, and wife) who ran errands for the company was driving around all day long like that.  He confided in me that he thought "Brett did it" (one of the company Traders).  He was livid with Brett for years...until I told him after I quit to work for a competitor in 1992, that it was I who did it (and a friend) a year or two earlier.  Poooooor Ben, he was such a sweet guy.  His wife, btw, looked like Demi Moore.  They were quite a cute couple.  Ben forgave me, and chuckled about it...TL and I always got ourselves into some crazy ideas and followed them through.

-AA

Fate or ?

I'm sitting here wondering about people, today...about what makes us click with them, think about them - become part of their lives and want to stay in their lives.

I'm not necessarily one of those folks who believe in fate to the fullest extent, but I think there must be something to it...something in the tapestry of life that makes us fall into the patterns of people that we sometimes do - or go after those that we feel we need to be connected to.  There has to be, otherwise how could you explain it?  God?  Maybe.  Reincarnation?  Sure, why not?  "Fate" as an entity?  That makes sense, actually.  Maybe I believe more than I let on...that's entirely possible.

I have a lot of "exes" and I have a lot of "acquaintances" - some of my exes are acquaintances and some of my acquaintances used to be friends.  I can also say that some of my friends are my exes and we are friends for the better, and I'm very happy with that.  AO is someone that I'm grateful to have in my life as a friend, and I don't take that word "friend" lightly.  She came down all the way from Washington two years ago to help us move 2.5 hours north.  Now THAT is friendship to the umpteenth degree.  Of course, this was also a vacation of sorts for her - but, seriously, I can't ever remember jumping on a plane to go and help a friend move!  I don't know that I ever told her just how much her trip meant to us, but she saved us, literally.  This gets me to my point...if I hadn't dated her over 20 years ago, and we hadn't stayed in contact (fallen out, gotten back in) over the years, obviously she wouldn't have been here helping us in our time of need, correct?  Is it fate that had this pre-planned?  Or, is it just simply determination on my part that got us back into contact?  If so, WHY?  I guess it doesn't really matter in the long run, and I feel blessed to be able to call her my good friend of 20+ years, even though there's been big spots of time where we didn't know each other or where we were at - but, it didn't matter.  We came back together like puzzle pieces that were needed to fill in that field of flowers, just like in the picture on the box; 2 of 1,000.  Impressive, isn't it?  I think so.

I think about my friends, and people who used to be good friends but are now more or less stuck in the back of the closet behind the shoe boxes of old pictures...I know I can dig them out if I need them, if I think about them, and maybe we'll reconnect, maybe we won't and those pictures will go into storage.  I think about my exes...people that I got involved with on a weekly, monthly or even yearly basis.  I think about the ones that I know where they are but they want to have nothing to do with me - and I'm okay with that, too.  If you don't feel like I fit into your life, so be it.  No harm, no foul.  I don't want you in my life if I'm not a fit for you, because obviously it wouldn't work.

My previous ex, of 9.5 years, (my previous ex...as opposed to my current ex?  No, she's my current ex, LOL), my EX, we met when she was a mere 17...and I hate to admit it but I was 26.  We were together for a good chunk of time, but things changed.  I'll also freely tell you that I know things were changing, and not for the better.  Things in my current relationship, by the way, are changing on a regular basis, but this is for the better - we are growing together, but my ex and I were not.  We didn't see it until more time had passed as I think we both wanted it to work in some respect - we were, after all, the perfect lesbian couple.  We were that couple.  The one everyone looked up to, thought was amazing, etc., etc.  Ya, not so amazing.  Don't get me wrong, we didn't fight all the time or do anything wrong - we just didn't have much more going for us than the artificial front.  Sad, but true.  But, I digress...my ex and I got together, and we learned some things about each other - and it makes me wonder if Fate had a hand in that one, too.  Or, reincarnation, maybe?  Let me explain further...

When I met my ex, she refused to talk about WWII or the Holocaust or anything related to it - it freaked her out.  Now, for most this wouldn't be an issue, but I, my darlings, I am one of those folks that is in love with Germanic Sociology from the WWII (mainly Hitler) era.  I have a whole bookshelf (tall, Ikea bookshelf) of WWII books on these subjects (and some Genocide reading scattered in for good measure), I even have the entire Nuremberg Trials in paper form, including the books of evidence (which are just as big as the trials).  **Side note, for anyone interested in this, a good chunk of the trials can be found here:  Nuremberg Trials (Harvard Law)

One day, the Ex and I were sitting in a park downtown and talking about things...and I asked her, what was it about the whole WWII thing that freaked her out?  She told me about something she'd always envisioned, and that freaked me out a little bit.  For back story, I had always had this odd "vision", if you will, of a Nazi soldier talking to a young woman in a cell of some sort...that was about it - but it was more the feeling I got from it that always resonated with me.  I don't recall if it came to me as a dream eons ago or what, but it had always been with me, and I just let that be, as well.  I never talked to anyone about that, as it never seemed like something that people would "get" or understand...and I didn't want to come off like I was a "Nazi Sympathizer" from that time period, as that's far from the truth.  That night, the Ex told me that she had this vision of a young woman who was in the throws of the Third Reich, she was in a prison cell, and a young Guard was being very sweet to her - making sure that she was okay...before he was called away.  That's all she really could remember about it.  Okay...freaky.  I ask you, is this "reincarnation" at it's best?  Is it her reading my mind?  My reading hers (before we ever met), or simply Fate?  Who knows...but, honestly I think from that moment on we both understood, somehow, that while we were together and seemingly happy, there was something underlying that shouldn't have kept us together - something wasn't quite right, and I know that I never really shook that feeling.  It's like I was getting a second chance at fixing something - and, maybe I was.  Maybe in a previous life I was that Nazi Guard...maybe she was that young woman?  Who knows...I really don't, and can't say that I do, but I do know that we were thrown together in some way, shape or form as to connect, and we connected on another level - one that makes us interconnected even though now we rarely talk and we had a pretty rough breakup (I'm not surprised if you counter in this story, but it never really came up again).

This stuff just makes me think...and, the ex before "The Ex", who was my first long term relationship, that's another story but I'll say this...when we were "dating" or "courting" or whatever you'll call it, and I still lived in Oregon (I moved to Florida for this ex I speak of, as I didn't want her to have to move to Portland - she was young as well and it just didn't seem right to me to displace her, especially with such an amazing family), I was writing pieces at that time about a man named Mark, who lived in the Vietnam War.  I almost felt possessed when writing these small pieces - I'd get them at random times and just be compelled to write them down...these thoughts.  My ex was on the phone with me a few times these came to me, and being a writer herself she didn't think this was strange at all.  I got a last name towards the end of these pieces.  Mark is another story, and one I might share more in depth in the future, but suffice it to say, it was a huge piece of my writing history and a good year of my life.  I met a Vietnam Vet at a job I was working once, who did a couple of tours and lived to tell about it, and I mentioned this writing to him - he said he'd love to see it so I brought him a copy.  He told me the next day that he'd never read such compelling, and accurate, writing about the war in the sense that this was written.  THAT was not only a compliment, but a truth - I never read Nam stuff, I was never that interested in it - sure, I'd seen Apocalypse Now, but I was only around 23, I didn't know enough about that part of history to really understand it...Mark was writing through me.  Mark...I got his name, as I mentioned.  One day, about a year after moving to FL, I came home and my ex had told me she found something for me on the Internet.  It was a website with The Wall names and information on them.  She found Mark, his full name.  He was born/raised in Wisconsin, and in my story pieces Mark was from Illinois.  He died in the War approximately a year before I was born.  I wondered...could it be some past, or some piece from a past that my soul had hung onto before being brought into this world?  Was reincarnation even possible?  Is it selfish to think that we are our only true selves and that we don't re-process?  I think there's got to be something to it...and, this brings me full circle to people in our lives.  If dead people can touch you, then there's got to be something to people in the present day coming in and out of your life and having some sort of "fate" interacting with us...maybe Fate with a capital F is the best way to look at it.  Some would call it God.  Concrete Blonde would call it Love.

I'll leave this entry with a piece from Mark from 1999.  Over the years I got a few more tidbits here and there - this was one of them, and I think probably the last: 

"and if anyone shall ever forget what it meant to send their men to war, if anyone shall ever forget what it meant to leave their mothers, wives, children and parents alone, waiting by the phone, by the t.v. for some glimpse of possible returned death - for some hollow face to wave back at the cameras...wondering if your son would come back in a body bag...if anyone shall ever forget these erroneous ways of the world, these horrid manslaughter ideas that spouted upon the refuge of idealism that we turned upon ourselves with loaded guns - bullets flying - death mounting...if anyone shall ever forget let it be me, let it be my sacrificed ghost that walks upon the graveyards...like so many others, let it be me, please let it be me who forgets, the one who died, the one who's gone...the one who's writing."

-AA