It's hard to imagine that we'll get no new Tom Petty music. May he rest in peace.
Today I am thankful for the people in my city.
I had to go out to get a bookshelf. I still have too many books and it was time for me to organize them.
They usually sit in little piles on the floor.
I had a disturbing dream. One I may or may not share.
It involved a party in my home and a man from my past.
I've had several of these dreams in the past few months.
If people are going to come into my home, I may as well give them a space to walk.
*****
I guess I'll share the dream.
In the latest dream, I'm inviting people to my home for a mini-estate sale. Everything is free.
People are paying for stuff, so I designate one of my neighbors who needs money to play the role of cashier.
I truly have far too many clothes and shoes. Many of them I've only worn once or twice.
In my dream, I see my red thigh high leather boots and my black thigh high leather boots just sitting there waiting to be taken.
I actually have a pair of stripper boots that have inserts of various colors, so they match just about any outfit.
I'm seeing all of my favorite items in my dream.
I'm trying to give them good homes.
My tenor saxophone is given away. My clarinet is gone. Many of my dresses from India have found homes.
I can breathe in my space again.
People are bringing food.
We're singing and dancing.
It's nighttime. I have a little string of lights lighting up the porch where people are gathered.
Someone, in her gratitude for the new clothes, brought me some of her homemade soap.
That's a luxury that I truly love. I used to make my own soap before lye became hard to buy locally.
As I'm socializing, I see a familiar face in the crowd.
It's a very old friend from school. He's talking about his wife and how proud he is of her.
I can't find her to meet her.
I've had this dream a couple of times.
I never meet her.
He points in my direction but it's unclear exactly who he is pointing at.
I wake up a little confused.
I always have this dream when I forget to take my sleeping pills. I was sick last night. It's a long story.....I took in another young person. My latest house guest is a pot smoker. I'm allergic to pot. I think I fainted from the smoke before I could take my meds. Yeah, we'll have to have a talk, she isn't quite old enough to smoke the stuff legally.
At least, when I forget to take the sleeping pills, I can remember the dreams.
On the bright side, the re-occurring dream has inspired me to clean out my clutter and donate some stuff to the local charities.
I donate ten items a week.
Do you want to know something? For a woman who is allergic to wool, I have far too many wool sweaters and coats.
Sure, they're pretty. What is the point of wearing them if you can't stop scratching? I'm going to need more boxes for my donations.
******
Since I smashed my face with the glass window, I hate being out in public.
I went to a few furniture stores and didn't find a bookcase that would fit into my room.
I wound up at Target.
I used to frequent this store quite a bit before I became poor.
I caught a glimpse of my face while grabbing dinner out of the freezers. My reflection looked horrific.
I held my head down in shame.
No amount of MAC make-up can hide the new scars around my eyes.
It was the darndest thing, as I stared at my face in the glass, a woman came up to me and started to chat with me.
She just opened up a salon down the street and invited me in for a consultation. She sells the make-up I used to wear before I had to buy MAC make-up due to my television appearances.
The problem with MAC make-up is that it doesn't really have enough sun protection. It's got a lot of chemicals in it and I don't really like how it makes my skin feel.
It's lightweight. It just doesn't seem to help my skin the moment it comes off. In the past, I wore Mary Kay and/or made my own make-up.
I stopped doing all that when I needed to buy commercial make-up.
I just realized she may be able to help me.
Someone offered me an interview for a in-person insurance sales job. In this job, I would need to meet with people looking to buy health insurance plans. I would be responsible for giving sales presentations to groups of people and meeting with them face to face.
I hesitate to take the opportunity because of the cuts and scars on my face.
Maybe I can.
As I left, a young man approached me and asked about my family. He looked vaguely familiar. When I saw his name tag, I knew him in an instant.
Twelve years ago, he lived across the street in the little rental property. His parents were going through a divorce. His mom left. His dad was struggling financially.
He was scapegoated for the family's problems.
He is a good kid. Over the next year or so, he spent a lot of time at my home, doing his homework and playing with kids.
I truly enjoyed the days he visited. We'd have parties and he always attended.
I always freaked out when he fell out of the trees he climbed. He's the one that taught me why the Gods wouldn't let me have little boys.
I couldn't handle boys. I'd worry too much.
He's graduating from high school this year. He is working at the local store.
It was nice seeing him.
I'm going to have to get something nice for this young man who has beat all the odds. His parents faced homelessness. He made it! I'm so happy for him.
Maybe it's not a bad thing leaving the house once in awhile.
People still see the real me despite the scars.
It's strange how that brings tears to my eyes.
I'm not a leper.
I'm me.
******
There was something else that happened today.
A married male political activist asked me out to coffee. I'm sure it is because he and his wife want to do something to honor the veterans in our city.
This person and I attended elementary and middle school together. I lost touch with him when my mother died in 1984 and I moved across town to live with an uncle. The man's parents are buried near mine at the local national cemetery. He's a famous musician known for honoring veterans.
Back in middle school, he had all the good solos in marching band. He's only gotten better through the years. We lived in a tiny town and there couldn't have been 200 hundred students in the entire school. It was funny, we usually won the competitions and the judges thought we were from Wyoming.
No.....we lived in Colorado.
This gentleman found me on Facebook during my mayoral run. We live in the same city now.
I declined the meeting. It's instinctual.
In the past, whenever I was alone with men, I got stalked.
It didn't matter if I were with a married man.
It didn't matter if I were in public.
My ex or a member of his family always seemed to be there watching.
That's why I take jobs in call centers. They tend to be high security places. It's hard to get stalked in a call center.
I stopped meeting with people in public.
If my ex is truly in rehab, there is no danger....is there?
I'll stop being silly and get out and be more social.
Who knows? He may want to put together a small band to play for the families of people who paid the ultimate price for our country.
Or he may just need me to volunteer for one of his causes.
It can't be bad.
I know great people. Why am I terrified to be alone with them?
It's high time I stopped doing that.
Love ya lots,
S.