Playing Catch Up

So here’s the thing…

It’s been a really long time since I had a normal post in here. Just a boring old nobody gives a shit “here are things that have been happening and how I’m feeling about them” post. The last couple were really interesting. I was doing interesting things and they were worth writing about. Everything else that’s been happening has been… kind of interesting? Maybe?

(it hasn’t)

But we’re reaching that point where it’s been so long since I wrote anything that it’s starting to get daunting. Like when you haven’t hit the gym in so long that one trip, something you did 5 days a week for years straight, suddenly seems outside your capabilities. The longer you wait, the bigger that mountain appears to grow. SO.

I’m just gonna, like, write some stuff. Incomplete, largely mundane recollections of the last 6 months or so. See if I can sort some of it out in my head again ok enough setup stop editorializing just go jesus christ.

It hasn’t been a great winter, but it hasn’t been a horrible one either. Having the kittens around has helped. They’re bigger now. I look at them and feel like they’re these enormous panthers stalking around the house, but then I realize it’s only because I haven’t had a full sized feline hanging around in decades. Only these kittens. So they’re big compared to what I’m used to, but they’re still kittens. Mostly.

Shiva is a still a cuddly little fuzzball who loves to chase everything. She’s really sweet. Sweeter than cats are supposed to be, I think. I wound up taking her to the bougie vet in town for her spay + prespay appointment. Some $1100-$1200 all-in once the spay and bloodwork and testing to make sure no worms and the remaining vaccines and…. There were a few things on the list that I’m pretty sure were trumped up bullshit to inflate the bill, but I didn’t know enough about cat health to pick and choose which ones so I just let them have the money. Please just make sure this cat survives her spay and is comfortable, please.

It would be REALLY awkward here if it were just Rajah and I.

The big handsome fella is coming along though. He’s rugged looking at this point. Medium length coat coming in. He’s really, really pretty to look at annnnnd still a complete mess. He’s perfectly happy to hop up and cuddle with Shiva and I when I’m sitting or laying down. Many mornings I wake up with Shiva on my shoulder or nuzzled against my neck and Rajah curled up around my arm. He’ll even come out and make eye contact and do his best attempt at a meow if he thinks he’s getting fed. But as soon as I start walking, he still bails out to hide around a corner or under a table.

He’s light years beyond where he was though. And he and Shiva still adore each other, so I’m happy they have one another to hang out with when I’m away.

It was good I had them around, because otherwise winter hit hard in February. Started getting the completely draining thyroid flare ups that I hadn’t seen since previous winters. Still dragging. Still the mild-moderate other symptoms that come and go. I started feeling really heavy again. Dreading showers because I didn’t want to check and see if I was getting as big as I felt. I, no joke, started dimming bathroom lights when I’d shower so I didn’t have to know. Isn’t that sad? Full on winter depressive episode again. Bleh.

To distract from the bleh, I went a little crazy with a few projects around here. No total room renovations or patios being built, smallish projects, but I managed to get swept up in them anyway. I started noticing that, as my design aesthetic has for so long been a sort of dorky rustic/industrial blend, most of my fixtures are all exposed filament bulbs. They look great. They are also all really, REALLY warm. 2200k-2400k warm. Amber to orange. The sort of orangey light that is really nice when you want to relax at the end of the day at a bar that would still play cool jazz. NOT the sort of color that would feel good when trying to gain some energy mid-morning in the dark of winter. Meanwhile, the office I spend my remote work days in was lit by two small flat buzzing LED ceiling lights and one more filament bulb over in the reading nook. The kitchen and dining room have only the chandeliers in the middle of the rooms, and those are burning amber as well. And, at the other end of the spectrum, the gym has roughly 87 recessed cans with ultra-cool bright-ass daylight bulbs. Enough that it can be jarring when the rest of my day has been so dark.

… Fixing it.

I decided everything needs to be hue, because my smartthings have been a shitshow and I’m tired of my house lights not turning off at the end of the day because Samsung pushed out a bad update to a server somewhere. Yanked down the two ceiling fixtures in the office and installed 6 recessed hue lights. No more buzz, no more shadowy corners. I swapped out the filament bulbs in the living room, kitchen, dining area, and upstairs hall with the ones that let you adjust their color temperature as the day goes on. Energy in the morning, chill in the evening. Emboldened by the office success, I FINALLY cut into my kitchen ceiling and put some more recessed fixtures over the counters there. And, by gummit, since that worked out I just went ahead and did 4 more around the corners of the dining area too. I swapped in recessed fixtures for the old looking bulbs in the music room ceiling. Traded smart bulbs in for the smart switches that were powering outside bulbs. Replaced all 9 recessed fixtures in the gym with color + tunable recessed fixtures. Ripped out the tiny little 3 inch recessed in the theater that I chose when I didn’t know any better and installed some proper 5/6 inch ones instead. And, you know what, sure. I ripped out the old boob-light ceiling fixture in the basement hallway and threw one more recessed light up there too. Why the flip not.

At this point, I have no idea how many hue bulbs I have in my house, but I know I had to split them up into 4 separate controlling hubs because each can only accommodate up to 62 bulbs. I know I spent a pretty stupid amount of money doing it, especially when you consider that most of the work was just going from one smarthome system to another. But I can also tell you it helped me feel much better. I can dim the gym to a more reasonable level so I’m not given headaches down there. I programmed most of the house to adjust color temps as the day goes on, so I’m not being lulled to sleep in the morning or fried at night. The office isn’t a dim buzzing mess when I have to sit here 8 hours when working. And I’m not getting sabotaged by Samsung mucking with their smart home platform. I’ve been real happy with the changes. Glad I made the effort.

HOWEVER.

There was an accident.

Wanting to do right by allllll the recessed fixtures I was installing, I ordered a hole saw of 5+ inches that is correct for the recessed cans. This allows for cleaner holes, not a bunch of chipping or wobbly hand cuts. Lowes didn’t have it, Home Depot had an ultra shitty one for some $50, so I turned to Amazon for half that. Went to get started in the office with it. Set it in the drill, grabbed the chuck, and fired up the drill to tighten it around the bit. Standard stuff. One it grabbed, I let go with my left hand (so the spinning chuck wouldn’t grind away my fingers) and then let go of the trigger on the drill. This is all normal putting-a-bit-into-a-drill stuff.

What was unusual about this circumstance was, when the drill brake stopped it from spinning, the hole saw continued to spin. It popped into the air at whatever-the-fuck RPM, bit into my palm for a brief blinding flash of pain, and then went skipping across the desk below and onto the floor with a clang.

Ow. OW.

As I stood there, hand under the faucet’s running water to wash the initial blood away, waiting for it to slow enough to clot, I pondered where I had gone wrong. What the hell just happened? Why? I had no idea. Completely baffled as to how I had just managed to injure myself. I only understood when I went back and studied the scene.

I hadn’t noticed it originally, but it turns out that THIS particular hole saw did not have an arbor lock. Most respectable hole saws have an arbor, the center piece that clamps into the drill and contains the normal center bit to guide the hole. They also have the actual round saw with a threaded hole in the center. The saw screws onto the arbor to hold it in place, and two little prongs slide up from the arbor into holes on the saw to lock it in place.

This one? No lock. I had screwed the saw onto the arbor, then chucked it onto the drill which caused the whole thing to spin. When it stopped, the momentum of this big heavy 5+inch metal hole saw blade kept it spinning. It UNSCREWED ITSELF from the arbor in a blink and went airborne, royally fucking up my palm and taking a chunk out of my desk.

… OH GOD MY DESK…

There it was. A big circular blade mark where it landed with some angular momentum left, then a few lesser marks where it skipped across. It’s not drastic, but on a black laminate surface seeing the tan of the pressed wood underneath definitely stands out. Once all the lights were installed and my hand somewhat healed I came back and tried to fill it with wood putty. Then I took a furniture touch up marker to it. It helped. A little. Putty shrunk to not-level again. Touch up marker wasn’t quite the same black, and wasn’t glossy enough. I tried to live with it, but I couldn’t help stare at it every time I sat down. Once you know the flaw is there, how do you ignore it again? I went to buy a replacement. The desk place wanted $600 plus shipping. WHAT?!?! How?! For just the desktop!?!?

… Fuck it. If I’m gonna be spending money like this, I’m going big. Butcher. Block. Countertop. Desk.

For the next several weeks, my basement was full of sanding sawdust and danish oil fumes. Oily rags. Fans blowing exhaust in the dead of winter. Kittens upstairs wondering what the hell I do in the downstairs realm. Eventually, after a dozen hours or so and another week of drying time, I removed ALL THREE black particle board and laminate surfaces from the frames and installed these beauties. Total cost - about $600. Upgraaaaaade.

Apart from all that, I also went on a cabinet organizing kick. Picked up some 5-6 of those Rev-a-shelf organizers that roll out so you don’t have to half climb into cabinets to find the pan you’re after. Got some for the bathroom vanity too. Took some time to organize and sort toiletries into little plastic containers to keep em organized.

I guess what I’m saying is, this was EXTENSIVE. All these cabinets are now sorted. No more piles of pans to bang through anytime I need something. I’m not soring through a pile of toiletries whenever I need to find a bar of soap or contact solution container. It’s been yet one more calming modification to the place. There’s something really satisfying about having things sorted.

Say what you want about my depressive winter episodes, but they get shit done.

Switching gears…

So at one point in November I was sitting at pre-damaged desk, working, when something caught my eye. A little slip of yellow underneath my video editing console. Wait… how long has that been there? I lifted the console to see what I had.

An empty envelope from my mail pile. Sharpie written on it. A name, Giselle. A phone number, And a note. “I can be your friend (in secret).” I stared at it for a few seconds, perplexed. What in God’s name how did this OH MY GOD THE CLEANING LADIES…

I’ve kept the full house cleaning once a month. A team of 5-6 Brazillian women of a wide age range pull up in a minivan, pour out armed with vacuums and dusters, and storm through the front door like special forces hunting for a high profile target. On a mission. They split up in a pre-determined approach, the older squat lady goes right for the kitchen, the two younger girls bring the vacuums upstairs, etc.

On occasion, they’ll schedule me for a day when I’m working remotely. No big deal, I sit at my desk and work as they buzz through the house behind me, lifting my feet when one comes through with the vacuum. I don’t think any of them speak English, or at least not much. They chatter at each other in Portuguese sometimes, but I’ve never been able to pick out cognates enough to know what they’re saying.

Which one is even Giselle?!?

It’s gotta be one of the two younger ones, right? There’s a thinner, petite, athletic built one with big eyes that always has a mask on covering the rest of her face. And there’s the curvy, bleached blond streaks in her hair, heavy eye makeup wearing one. But neither had ever said a word to me. Just little glances as they’re working and I’m nearby.

I did some sleuthing on my security cameras. Scrolled through to see if I could catch anyone running back up to the office last-second to leave the note. No dice there, but I did find eye-makeup checking her hair and makeup in the minivan window before they stormed the house. Checking to make sure everything is in place and put together before you come in to vacuum someone else’s house?

Bingo.

Rather than texting the number, I wound up just wondering… what the hell does a friend (in secret) mean? Is she looking for a hook up? A ring and a green card? A John? The whole thing felt sketchy from the jump so I avoided it, but… after a week or two my curiosity got the better of me. She was gonna show up next cleaning, so there wasn’t a lot of hiding from it to be done. And besides, I have a feeling I could just tell the cleaning Mistress and Giselle’s job would be forfeit, so I felt like I held a lot of leverage. I texted something generic to give her a chance to explain herself.

“So… Secret friend, huh? Do you have a lot of secret friends?” Accompanied by the shot of the note she left. Let her dangle. She came back with a lot of apologies and begging me not to tell her boss. She’s very sorry. She’s never done anything like this before. She’s just here from her country and doesn’t know many people and wanted to know me please don’t tell her boss she’ll lose her job I can ignore it she needs the employ…

… very suspect. But even more curious. I’m listening.

We had a pleasant text conversation. She made no mention of dates, sex, or pricing. Huh. Well… uhm…

Over the next week or so, I learned she was married briefly in Brazil, has a daughter with some health issue that needed surgery, so she came here to make money for it. She’s HYPER religious. Jesus this and Jesus that and may God watch over this other thing. But then, she would send a picture of her smiling in a low cut top and make a completely transparent attempt at acting like she meant to send a DIFFERENT picture. Then one evening she asked me, out of the blue, what men in America would think if she mentioned to them how tight she is.

… I’m… I’m sorry, what?!?

So clearly we’re not talking just friendship here, even if she wouldn’t just come out and say it. She’s not looking for pay, so this hasn’t been a prostitution thing like I originally figured. But why is she doing the accidental-ho bit right alongside the jesus freak one?

Eventually she just laid out how much she had been wanting me. Sent me, unprompted, some pictures of her in tiny Brazilian thong bikinis on a beach somewhere. It… did not look bad. Then she asked for a picture of how hard she had made me.

… excuse me?

“No. I don’t do that.”

“Oh. Okay, well I don’t even send pictures like I did to you but I trust you so much but okay.”

Annnnnnd that’s over. I realized all at once that I don’t trust this girl even a little bit. Pictures of you on a public beach, a crowd in the background, and you’re gonna try and leverage that against me as some intense display of intimate trust? Get the fuck out of here.

She got a new job. She wasn’t with the crew the last time they came around. Good riddance. That was WEIRD.

My life is a pretty constant string of weirdness, isnt it?

Went through another Reddit girl in the last couple of months. Another that fantasized about being rendered helpless and letting me take whatever I want. She was nice enough, but it became pretty clear pretty quickly that the click wasn’t there. She was much more focused on herself. Texting for random approval and fantasies she can get off to while she knows I’m hiking up a mountain. Not really asking a thing about what’s going on with me. Not really getting jokes or able to handle her end of banter. Nice, pretty, but not for me. She took the news like an actual break-up. We hadn’t met in person yet.

Weird.

On a more positive note, there has been… well, another.

I don’t know if I mentioned it at the time, but the Christmas before last, when Shorty came and stayed at the house with me for a couple days, she had a college friend of hers come visit to hang out. I was not a part of it. Was down in the basement playing Persona when this person walked in my front door. It was an hour before I came up. Sitting at my kitchen counter, chatting with Shorty, was this petite, fit girl. Not a classical beauty by any stretch, but a kind of quirky little-to-no-makeup cuteness. Her voice and energy reminded me a touch of Mel from Flight of the Concords. Animated. Peppy. Bubbly. QUIRKY.

Whatever. I joined the conversation briefly, made a few cracks. Learned a bit. She finished vet school and was in residency applying for neuro programs around the country. Yeesh. That sounds hard. She had been in Rockville most of this year, hence coming up to say hi, but would be headed down to FL next year for some program down there.

Eventually I got invited to join them downtown to hit a brewery and grab some ice cream. Sitting around an outdoor table with drinks, and I’m getting THAT energy from Mel. The same energy I had gotten from a select handful of girls in the past. An eager submissive vibe. That energy gives me a tangible boost when I feel it. Like it gets my failing testosterone levels flowing. I feel funnier. More confident. Like I’m the better version of myself when I run into one of those. I know almost nothing about this girl, and I’m questioning whether I’m actually feeling it or the beer has me stupidly confident, but… I guess it doesn’t really matter. She’s here visiting my sister. I’m not trying to be the creep that starts leaning in by association.

We went to order a final round and Mel wanted to find a brewery sticker. She has a collection of brewery stickers from places she’s visited, and she laminates them and makes them into fridge magnets to remind her of her travels and hangouts. She finds one, then asks if I want one as well. There was an initial reaction of “no, not really”, but it occurred to me in the moment that agreeing would mean she’d have to send me something later. So I accepted.

We all spent the rest of the evening a little tipsy, down in the theater, playing retro games on the arcade cabinet and goofing around. Then hugs all around and she left. I shook it off. Just beer confidence. Girl was just coming to visit her friend. Leave her be.

I had all but forgotten the event when the magnet showed up in the mail with a friendly note about what a great time she had visiting, what a nice town this is, and how she aspires to having such a cool arcade basement of her own one day. Return address, no other method of communication.

Well… now I’ve got a choice don’t I?

Regardless of anything else, it felt weird leaving things there. No thanks for the magnet? Isn’t that kind of shitty? So what, am I just gonna send a hand written letter, like this is 1940? I needed some sort of something to make and send back.

She aspires to an arcade basement like this one, huh? Okay. I can work with that. I grabbed a spare block of wood from my studio desk project and a few extra arcade buttons from my cabinet project. Hollowed out the bottom, routed the top with a nice edge, and drilled some holes for the buttons. I slapped my arcade black paint on it, screwed the buttons in, and wired them up to a power adapter so the built in LEDs would light up. There. A mini arcade button nightlight. Now she’s got the start of her own arcade basement.

Is that thoughtful, or stupid? Felt both. Whatever, fun little project, silly little thank you. I sent it off to the return address with a note. I ended it with my number, telling her to hit me up if she was ever up in the area again and we’d go find another brewery with different stickers.

Good. I feel better. That was that.

I got the text message right as I was in the Pittsburgh hotel at the start of my bike trip. We chatted briefly. She wanted to be kept appraised of this crazy adventure I was setting out on. Cool.

She was a once a day texter. Paragraphs at a time. 3-4 topics all in quick succession. More an exchange of letters than a conversation. No problem there, I can hang with the long messages. She kept up with the trip, a few days after, then sort of trailed off and disappeared.

*shrug* No problem. If she’s ever in the area maybe we can go grab another drink. That was my intention.

A few weeks later, I get a 5-6 page text update from her. We get into a long updates every few days rhythm. Then she disappears again.

Quirky.

The next time she appeared was just a few weeks ago now. A bit more settled, it seemed. Still just friendly. After some back and forth, I asked what her matching process was for neuro vet programs was all about, and she proposed that it would be easier over a phone call. It was that point that I started feeling more creepy than I was ready to feel. Here I am with an asshole dad that snuck in behind my back with a girl I had been seeing for two years and basically pried her away to be a part of his life instead. Am I any better? I talked to Shorty about it. Let her know that this conversation had been going, but that she proposed a friendly phone call and I wanted to clear it first. Nervy moment. Am I a creep?

Shorty, who is awesome, was awesome. Nope. No problem at all. I’m not being like dad at all because I’m not bad mouthing her behind her back and trying to get Mel to not be her friend anymore. I… oh yeah. I guess… in my concern about being one of those types I hadn’t even considered that. Thanks, Shorty. That helps. Then she hit me with “friendly or more than, as long as it’s consensual, no worries here”.

That… that sounds like something that comes from a place where they had already discussed it, doesn’t it? Like Mel had gotten clearance for something?

Phone call went for some 3-4 hours, but that tends to be what I do when I set out to have a chatty phone call with someone. Then texts got a bit more regular. Then another call a couple weeks later. At one point I was discussing work, and about how I need a break, and how that break should be a remote cabin in some woods somewhere with a guitar and a book. She joined in, jokingly, about that sounding amazing , can she join? I, jokingly, asked “your cabin or mine?”. She replied with “or maybe somewhere in the middle?” and sent a screenshot of google maps directions indicating about where the middle point is between where she is and where I am.

… oh…. oh you made it real. That’s… that’s a little crazy, but… hmm…

So here I am. In MD. With a reservation for a long weekend at a beautiful little cabin in NC towards the end of April. With Mel. We’re driving in and meeting up for good beers and chatting and crosswords and general getting away from things. And like… more? Hadn’t been expressly discussed, but that VIBE I got back then. Is she not figuring on that, meeting me up in a remote cabin? I’m not dreaming this, right?

I have since learned that I was not dreaming it.

She felt it. Didn’t quite know what it was, but she felt it. Didn’t want to say anything because she felt weird and thought I wouldn’t be interested. But, she’s fully aware of and hopeful for… additional cabin activities.

My dom senses don’t miss. This is gonna be an eventful trip. And I’m excited. She’s still quirky, but a quirky I’m enjoying. An eager, genuine quirky. Potentially exactly the type I need to get me back on my feet after the last several years of bullshit. Dont want to jump ahead and set expectations too high, but I felt those vibes and I know what that means.

My life is consistently weird, but in this case I think It’ll be good.

Ok, I think that’s plenty of rambling for now. I’ve got meal prep to run, laundry to change, and expect I might be hanging with Bruddah a bit later. We hung out for the first time in months last Sunday. Was a little weird, felt more foreign than it should for something that had happened weekly for a decade or so. But it also felt like another little step towards normalcy again. Getting out of the shitty last few years habits and back into normal ones.

Oh. And I find out what my yearly raise will be this week, with the new pay going into Friday’s paycheck.

Fully shaking off winter. Feeling good. Bring on the warmer weather and more energy. I’m ready.

-M