More socializing, methinks

Simply getting out to go to a show last Saturday has put me in a much better mood. My brain even seems to be working better; I can do expert Sudoku with no problems these days. 

I've already decided to head back to Nashville later this month, albeit to a smaller venue called the Station Inn. I am very fond of the country singer Junior Brown and he is appearing at the Station Inn the evening before he appears at the Grand Ole Opry. The Opry isn't in my budget but the Station Inn is, although I may have to sneak out of work a bit earlier than usual. Thankfully Nashville is in the Central time zone and I'm in the Eastern, so I get a head start of sorts.

Reed and I had been talking about going to his hunt club for a weekend, which I was especially looking forward to, as I have a .243 Winchester that I need to learn how to use. But earlier today he said that the management of the hunt club had issued "don't bring your girlfriend if you're married" rule. This was after someone brought their girlfriend and managed to flip their ATV over when doing stupid wheelies, and the girlfriend's attorney sued the hunt club.

Since I had been to the club with Reed before and been introduced as his sister, I suggested that he have the wife call the club and back this up. He said he hadn't thought of that. But we have had additional disagreements during the last couple of months that make me feel that this relationship needs to end. The only reason I don't say a permanent goodbye to him is that I don't think I want to replace him with anyone who could be full time. 

My evening with Jimmy Carr

Last night I drove to Nashville to see Jimmy Carr.  I have liked him ever since I heard him call Ann Coulter a hatchet-faced bitch during the Rob Lowe roast a while ago, but when the Nashville show was announced, I initially didn't plan to go. I couldn't think of anyone who would want to go with me and the tickets were expensive. But two days ago, I found out about a website that sells last-minute event tickets at discounts, and was able to pick up a ticket for the show for under $40. It appeared to be a third-row ticket, but I was wrong (more about that later).

I decided to dress up for the event, as I like to dress up but rarely have a reason or opportunity to do so. Also, I had heard Carr make snide remarks if the women in the audience didn't make an effort (it was funnier when he said it).

When I got to Nashville, I was reminded of why I don't like Nashville. The downtown area is no longer historic; instead it's a noisy, crowded tourist trap with too many girls thinking they look good in short shorts and cowboy boots. I think cowboy boots belong with jeans. Period. 

The event was at Ryman Auditorium, which began life as a church well over 100 years ago, and still has pews instead of seats. I thought I had a third row seat, but then I realized that there were two rows of folding chairs right next to the stage and I actually had a front-row seat. Well, a front-row pew. And I was obviously there on my own. 

Carr came out and was in excellent form, but eventually he decided to ask if there were single ladies in attendance. I said nothing but I realized he was looking at me, and then he asked if I were single. When I said that I was, he asked my name, and then said "Melina, you're an attractive lady, I bet I can find you someone." I was so surprised at this that I said thank you to him, after he said I was an attractive lady. I was certainly the only female in the audience wearing hosiery and Ferragamo heels. 

This evolved into his being his usual self to a couple of younger men with overgrown beards.  I remember he described one as a Duck Dynasty reject. But I was seriously relieved that actually received a compliment instead of an insult.

I'm hoping he'll play Chattanooga during a future U.S. tour.

It only took five years

...five years for me to contract COVID. As expected, I am not working, coughing, and going through the usual stages of a Paxlovid-fueled recovery. Thankfully I have not developed that bad taste in my mouth that many attribute to Paxlovid; the Paladin described it as being like bug spray. 

I'm pretty sure I picked up the vile omicron virus from my aunt a couple of weekends ago. We had done some gardening together, and she tested positive Tuesday, and I woke up feeling like dirt Friday. I picked up a combination covid/flu test and the rest is history. 

The worst was Saturday night, when I developed such back and neck pain that lying down was pretty much unbearable, even after dosing myself with Aleve. But I was duly vaccinatined and boostered, and began taking the Paxlovid within the five-day timeframe. 

My neighbor kindly left me some raspberry muffins, which he later admitted to baking himself. I sometimes wonder if there might be a future opportunity with him. He is actually a fellow liberal arts major and also hates Agent Orange (my latest Trump nickname). 

Love crumbles but it doesn't die

John Savelle died over a year ago. While the waking, conscious part of me accepts that I'll never see him again, the dreaming part of me doesn't always buy this.

I dreamed about him last night. I would see him in his military regalia, standing in a row with others identically dressed. Sometimes I was sure he was alive, while sometimes I thought he was no more than an expertly-created mannequin. 

Later I see him at a generic house in England, in a neighborhood I don't recognize. I find myself dancing with him as he's taken me in his arms, but everything feels strange, like I'm dancing with a mannequin. 

I think he said something to me during this dream, but I can't remember it.

The last part of the dream is where a sort of reality sits in. I realize I am holding a doll in my hands that is, or was, a replica of John. While I'm looking at it, it crumbles into grey dust and disappears. 

Some days I really miss him. It's painful. 

Life Under the Fanta Menace

I almost decided to shut down this blog today, but I just couldn't do it. I haven't posted for many months, mainly as the current political situation has put me in a state of near-constant anxiety. I still have the Very Good Job and I still live in the delightfully crumbly apartment building. I am still seeing both Reed and the Paladin - it's not really that difficult as they're both long-distance, and the kind Paladin shares my fear of 24/7 relationships. 

I think I would be in a much better frame of mind if I didn't have to read the headlines every day, especially the financial ones, but since I write about finances every day there's not any getting away from it. Sometimes I'm tempted to make a list of everything that's enraged me since Trump took office. Currently, the ICE raids carried out illegally upset me, and the federal deficit is ballooning, so this means that interest rates will probably continue to creep up. I read too much of Project 2025 to not be nervous. I half-expect the next elections to be cancelled. 

At least I've been able to socialize more during the past year. I usually meet the Paladin for Tuesday night trivia and bingo, and when one of his two vehicles is able to make it the 45 miles from his house to mine, he comes by some weekends and we misbehave and watch movies. While we don't agree on everything, we are both considering going off the grid with plenty of firearms and canned food if martial law arrives.

Reed is actually behaving these days, even though we had to have a serious breakup for this to happen. Last winter we argued about political candidates, and then the next day he texted and said that he "needed some time away from me". I took this as controlling behavior, and promptly mailed him the bracelet he gave me several years ago.

After about a week, I decided to write and clarify exactly why I had done so, as our argument had become quite convoluted (it lasted several hours). He ended up responding and doing what I can only describe as a therapy crash course, as I think he figured out that even if he didn't always agree with me, he needed a way to do it without running me down. Otherwise I was finished with him. 

It's easier to deal with a sometimes-problematic relationship if you're seeing someone else.