Editing Friendships

This week I tossed two more friendships for toxicity.
The easier one was with a guy in Michigan who shared my fondness for animals but insisted on repeating any anti-Hillary, anti-Obama links he could find. We would discuss them; most were just recycled things that had been debunked ages ago, and after a while it became clear that what I would debunk on Monday he would re-post on Friday. The problem was not that Hillary and Obama have faults; they do and it's worthwhile to discuss them. The problem is that endlessly repeating debunked garbage is a waste of time. The friends admitted and even boasted that he loved stirring the pot.
I finally realized that our friendship is merely entertaining him. I unfriended him over that last month, and he asked to be back. I did, he didn't change, I unfriended him again.
It's nothing personal, but life is too short to  waste with people who use you only for entertainment.
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The more serious case is Kris. Of course I should not even try to be her friend after she cheated on me and then divorced me, with not even an apology. Whenever I would point out that it would be a good thing to apologize, she would just cry and say "What good would it do?" If her professed lack of comprehension was sincere, then she was simply raised badly ... which is true ... but more likely it's just a power thing: she hates having to fulfill any obligation, especially when it involves me.

(But I really did like Kris as a friend. We were friends long before we were lovers.)

Kris' unreliability has been an issue from early in our relationship but it came to a head the last time I asked for tax documents. The terms of our divorce agreement include cooperating on filing taxes, which for the year of the divorce (2015) means we share wage and income information, and so forth. Kris has not sent me her 2015 W2s. She sent me a statement of her tribal income, which is well enough, but nothing from her main job. When I brought this up, she said she was slammed at work but would get it done. This scene replayed several times: I say I need the documents, she says she's slammed at work and promise to do it next Monday. Sometimes she'd say that the ADP website is hard to navigate, which is a pretty funny thing to say since she's been having the exact same issue for years. I told her not to bother but just to go order a "Wage And Income Statement" from IRS.gov - it takes two minutes and you're done.

The other day I came across a box with Kris' rafting gear in it. It would be the decent thing to do to offer it to her so I texted her a photo. She asked for more information so I sent another picture. She said she wanted it.

I reminded her that I needed her income documents. She said she was slammed at work and that she would get it done Monday and drop them off at the Y.

I confess I got angry at this. It was the same thing, over and over, and it was now clear that she was just lying to me again. I texted her back a number of things on the subject, and ended with something like "If you're slammed at work, it's no doubt with a married man".

That was a reference to the first time she cheated on me (she says...). It turned out that her boyfriend was married, and she hadn't figured that out for three years. There is some karmic balance to this, since she would lie to me about what she was doing when she said she had to go into work on Saturday, and the guy she'd meet would lie to her about his status and intentions. Everyone wins! No wait, everybody loses, except the guy she's cheating with.

Not to my surprise, Kris didn't show up at the Y with the W2s, which is my fault since I had told her that W2s are not enough; she needs to prove a W+I statement because she can not be trusted.

I was unkind but on the other hand I was putting a stop to a pattern of abuse. I feel badly about the first and good about the second. I do regret not working harder on the burn; it would have been better to write  "This time when you're slammed at work, is it with a customer or a co-worker?"

But the main point is this: I have edited out of my life a toxic influence. It's a big gap but necessary. I don't know how I will fill it or if I need to, but it's an improvement to have nothing instead of a friend who takes advantage of me, refused to apologizes, and lies badly about it.

A Look At The Garden

I really enjoyed the opening of the Healing Garden at VA Puget Sound Healthcare, but it was too crowded to really get a sense of the place.
Today I went back to make my weekly book drop, and felt very peaceful in that space,

Good Will

I am healthy and likely to live a long, long time, but I need to make provision for what happens next. So, I grabbed a simple will, added a few clauses, and signed it in the presences of a neighbor couple who very agreeably signed as witnesses. Now if I pass on, the people I care for ... and who care for me ... will be taken care of to the extent of my ability.
It's not vast wealth, but I feel good having made a Will, storing the original with my important papers and sending a copy to someone who will take care of it. I recommend this to everyone, if only for the peace of mind!

DAV Saturday

It was a busy day at DAV chapter 23 Saturday. The ongoing drama with the leadership took a turn that was unexpected to me when the national but the chapter in receivership. This strikes me is not an entirely bad idea, since has been amazingly bad management of the money and outright resistance to performing the mission of assisting veterans on the much in the leadership, but the reason for the receivership was apparently something entirely different: possible misuse of funds by Commander.

Now, I can't speak authoritatively on what went down because as a member of the auxillary I was required to leave the meeting before anyone said anything about it. I had joined the group in good faith thinking that I would be a full member, but in the small print of which I was not informed I actually have no rights at all. I would not recommend anyone join the auxiliary of the DAV for this reason; you are expected to contribute money and effort, but otherwise to stay silent. However, that is a matter for another time.

I stood outside in the rain - the meeting leaders didn't have the sense to recommend we go up into the chapel - with a member from another chapter name to Wayne and a veteran in distress. Wayne did a pretty good job of interviewing the other veteran as to the cause of his distress, and it was compelling. They went through a list of resources, and it appeared that he had tried them all but for various reasons they did not apply to resolve his issue. The time taken to explore all of those other options had brought in the event to the point at which he would become homeless in 2 hours if he could not come up with $600 to pay short-term housing. Let me emphasize that he had been exploring sources of health, and reportedly he would have a check coming at the end of the month that would resolve the long-term, or at least medium-term comma issue but needed temporary assistance to get through the next two weeks. I avoided getting involved mostly because Wayne was his doing and obviously great job of exploring the issue and trying Solutions. At an ordinary meaning of chapter, it was likely that the assistance would have been approved by the membership, although opposed by in the faction that rejects helping veterans, but that was not going to happen at this meeting because of the receivership crisis.

I tried not to get involved, I really did. Helping people in this situation can be expensive and I do have other responsibilities. There is always the chance that helping someone turns out futile in the long run. But on the other hand, here we were. The veteran had been exhaustively interviewed by Wayne and had apparently tried all the reasonable options. He had a plan for dealing with a situation if he could get past this crisis. I, myself, had the credit to borrow the money to solve the problem. I did not see that I really had a choice.

Wayne had to go deal with some stuff and while he was gone I talked with the veteran in distress. We agreed that I would lend him the money. We tried to execute the transaction over the phone, but the relevant Institution I would not do that, which frankly was pretty reasonable. Therefore we drove to the Shoreline Inn on Aurora, I checked with the manager and confirmed the situation, and paid the debt on my personal credit. I got one receipt, the veteran got the other. I then returned to the chapter house where the meeting was winding down. There was no time at which the veteran in distress could make his presentation, although he stayed to the end. I suppose I could have tried to raise the matter but, as above, I don't have any rights.

I have exchanged phone numbers and text message with the veteran. I have every confidence that when he gets on his feet he will repay the loan, however this may take quite a lot of time. I consider the money gone. I feel however that it would be worthwhile to ask the chapter what it would have done had it not been preoccupied by other business, and see if it will cover the debt. I'm not sure how to go about this, but I'll talk it over with some friends.

I really don't see what else I could have done under the situation. I have a lot of responsibilities, but I was presently able to resolve the situation and not only I but also Wayne had been through the complete list of alternatives.

I hope at least to have learned from the situation something valuable, but I don't know what it is.

I should not let this account of the day go past without mentioning the fun I had with "Uncle Mike". This is a veteran who runs a restaurant not far from Proletariat Pizza, who I had met briefly while working with Veterans and Friends of Puget Sound. The interaction hadn't gone well because we lost his paperwork, but I felt badly about it for years. He was very friendly on Saturday and when I apologized for the incident, he laughed; he was obviously way way beyond that, had ordered a clean file and put in the work needed to research his claim. If he had put down that burden, I was happy to as well. When we abruptly lost the services of the lunch cook, someone asked me to step in and I said, "Uncle Mike knows food!" Mike stepped in, took over, and got it done, for which I am grateful. 

Happy Or Angry But Not Both

Driving to barre I heard on the radio a chef explaining a life-changing realization: he could be happy or he could be angry but he could not be both at once. This seems logical. I have much to be angry about but I don't enjoy being angry so I need to focus on what I feel happy about. I still feel angry at Kris' betrayal, and perhaps that feeling will never go away, but I feel basically happy about my life right now so I need to think about that more. At barre, one of the women spontaneously noted that I was looking much more trim than last year, and even said that someone had mentioned that to her. This is flattering and it's also true - two things to feel happy about, but best of all is the opportunity to talk with someone outside of my ordinary round. Thursday or Friday night I had a beer with Dan and we discussed our respective ex situations. Kris had tried to change me to what she wanted and it didn't work, so I'm better off without her. Even more, I could not change her to what I wanted, so I'm better off not settling for her. While I am lonely, I'm not going to change my basic nature and creative endeavors are more important to me than meaningless dinners or yet another walk in the sun. IF this means I'm missing out on something, I do regret that but then again: 4freeCLE! my appeals court wins! distributing books at VA! maybe even more success delegating WPTL! my new found albeit unconventional family! and my home - my basic exercise in creativity - and my dance - the one thing that reliably gives me joy. I would not give up more than a few of these for the perfect partner, because she would not be the perfect partner if I had to give most of them up. I can be angry about that or I can be happy about it. I think it's something to be happy about, because it gives me direction and my solitude meaning.

The importance of ignoring

Today I had a short class at wsba involving seminar technology. The class went well, but the most important thing is that while there, I treated Kris exactly like a front desk clerk, nothing more.
There was no time wasted with pleasantries or stories; I had my thing to do and the only contact I had with her was to ask which direction to go.
I can't avoid having residual feelings about someone I loved and to whom I was married for over 10 years. Occasionally sharing photos of the cats is harmless I suppose (and I positively although perhaps meanly enjoy sharing triumphs of which she has no part) but I have to face the fact that she is bad for me.

Just bad for me.

And therefore ignoring her is good for me.

How To Get Flowers Without Making Your Wishes Known

She wanted cut flowers, and she did not want to say it; her husband was just supposed to know.
He had never thought much of cut flowers; to his way of thinking, they lasted a few days, and died, generating waste. He preferred live plants, and would take her to nurseries where she pointed at something and he bought whatever it was. But, really, she wanted cut flowers, maybe once a week, to put in a glass vase on a table in the kitchen or on the coffee table, like they did in classy homes.
She found someone to buy her flowers, a regular customer at her workplace. The flowers looked nice on her desk and she hadn't have to tell anyone what she wanted. Soon they were dating, very discreetly at lunchtime and on weekends when she told her husband she was going shopping for women's things. There were several years of this, and then she discovered he had a wife. He told her that it was o.k., his own wife was fine with an open marriage, but she knew that it was not right to be the other woman unless you ended up married, like her mother had done.
She broke it off. She was sad, really sad, and her husband noticed. He took her to  a nursery where they spent a lot of money on plants that he still has today, and still enjoys. Eventually she divorced him and she never had to tell him about the cut flowers.
She died alone. At her funeral there were lots of cut flowers, huge sprays in her favorite colors, which goes to show the lengths it takes to get what you want if you aren't willing to say anything about it.
#microbio

Jimmy: The First Friend

From preschool to 2nd grade I played with a boy down the street named Jimmy. We built a rocket launching station next to the Bernard and Marie's cow pond, where out space probes could splash down, solemnly pondering the advantages of solid vs. liquid fuel in the rocket we would build and the adequacy of a pot lid as a radar dish.
He had cooler toys and I was embarrassed when as a teenager his mother brought home a lamp from the lingerie section of the store at which she worked. It was a section of a female body wearing leopard-print briefs and lit from within, and image that convinced me this was a family of wealth although in retrospect the fact that they were a four member family in a two bedroom house would suggest otherwise.
We gradually parted ways when I went off to school. We briefly reconnected over the internet, but he was a rabid Reaganite and soon unfriended me.

Katy Bourne and Microstories

Katy Bourne and Paul the Bassist

It turns out that one of the people I've rumba'd with for a couple of years is a jazz singer and writer who just released a book. I don't talk much at the Y so I know very little of these people I've hung around with for years, but last Thursday it was announced that she was doing a reading - with a bass player - at the Treehouse Lounge in West Seattle. I stopped by, had a cider and a good time.
Her format is the microshortstory - a paragraph or two, that's it - published story by story on the web, and now collected as Weirdo Simpatico: Little Stories for Short Attention Spans. I enjoyed it, and it may inspire me to try the same.

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