My now-ex brother-in-law and my niece came to visit for a time yesterday. My Mom said that I’m really good at hosting and it’s nice that people see my place as a place to gather. She said she had her time at being that person but is glad it’s over. But she didn’t. I didn’t call her out on it, but our house was never that house. It was always too messy and tense and maybe once or twice we had family over, but usually we just went other places. I like it, and I think I’m pretty good at spinning gold out of wheat, so people seem to have a good time.
I don’t know if or when I’ll ever see ex-BIL again and that’s weird and a little sad. I like him a lot, but I didn’t have to be married to him so his issues were not my issues to deal with. But he’s my kid’s uncle, and he doesn’t have any other ones on my side. I don’t know how long you have to be married to be someone’s uncle and stay the uncle even after a divorce, but in my view, he certainly achieved that milestone, whatever it is.
My niece is a late teenaged mess and it made me glad that my child’s problems are only little boy problems right now. Figuring out the math and whether or not a friend made fun of his lunch because it’s healthy and balanced and all he ever brings every day is a sandwich, Doritos and Gatorade mom, every single DAY and that can’t be healthy, right?! We talked about not judging and being confident in your own choices and maybe that other kids are jealous of things and that’s when they make fun of stuff. I told him kids will make fun of you for many things and you have no control over that, it’s just how kids are, so you just make your choices and be your own man. And one day, years have passed by, and you might hear from some of those people that they wish they had had your self-confidence back then, and ability to tell others to go to hell, as I have heard from schoolmates of mine. They didn’t know at the time it was just an act. I’m a good actor. Act like you don’t care long enough and a part of you really doesn’t care.
I’ve gotten a lot of writing done the last couple of days. I’m immersed in writing a story. It reads more like a screenplay and I don’t know what to do with it. I don’t even know where it’s going. It’s unfolding as I write it and I don’t know where any of it is coming from. I’m letting it write itself because it obviously needs to be written. It was going to be a short story but now it’s not, and I’m not even a third of the way through it. I think it’s pretty good. I have to find something to do with it when it’s done. It takes place in the Nevada desert, partly, and I’ve had to do a lot of research because the time I spent there was fairly brief, not anywhere near where most of the story is set, and a long, long time ago. Thank goodness for the internet.
I ran nine and a half miles today. In the 40-degree, rainy wind. A personal record in terms of distance. It’s not a lot for some people, but considering the myriad physical shit I have wrong with me and how infrequently I am able to run, it’s pretty damned good, and I’m proud of myself. I really, really, really wanted to hit the 10-mile mark but I just didn’t have anything left. I was wheezing a little after the 7th mile and my hamstring injury was starting to flare up, never mind the tape on the bottom of my R foot to battle the plantar fasciitis, which made my foot go numb after awhile. I knew it was better for me at that point to just stop. I smeared myself up with Aquaphor beforehand, and that at least prevented blisters on my feet or under my sports bra, which is a real bonus.
It is miraculous how much my hair tangles now. This is a part of aging nobody has ever told me about, I’ve never seen an article written about it, nothing. I never had problems like this before, but over the past year or so, my hair has become middle-aged hair and man, it is a real bear to deal with. Like homeless person tangles, every time I wash it. It’s a little mystifying. I guess my hormones are declining, though it sure as shit doesn’t feel like it.
I have to work a few days this week and then it’s New Year’s Eve. Which is a pretty terrible holiday to be alone, when you aren’t a little kid or perhaps as old as my Mom and not caring anymore, going to bed at 9:30 as usual. I’m mad I’m alone but I don’t want to go to a party with a bunch of couples, though I have a few invites, as in my experience, that is worse than being alone. So I’m probably going away somewhere. I don’t think I’m going to tell anyone where I’m going or what I will do when I’m away. I’m just going to disappear.
Someone gave me a necklace for Christmas. It looks like dog tags and it says on it, “Only the brave.” I’m going to return it. I am not brave.