November 13th, 2021
Stopping Just Short
Not much is happening here. Or if things are actually happening, I'm missing out because ...I am most often fully outdoors, basking in the peacefulness. Today I stayed in the shade from 915am all the way until … until Michaela showed. She hadn't specifically come outside to retrieve me, but that's the way things worked out today as dusk conspired against me.
Bugged - Gnats, a host of persistent gnats swarming and swirling defied my direct orders to cease and desist. Some I swallowed whole, others I inhaled accidentally. But I swear to you, I just simply had to breathe. My nature versus theirs. I win, for now.
So resident Colleen is watching with a bemused expression splashed across her face as Michaela jostles me about in attempts to secure me (immediately prior to my room return). Meanwhile, I continue to make a spectacle of myself by half-heartedly waving off the damn gnats.
Colleen is the last one sitting in the courtyard, at the smoker's table. Usually there are ten of them to start off, arriving in all fashions, mostly on wheels (at a designated 4-hour interval). But Colleen doesn't roll like the rest of them, she instead walks, and thinks, and says things. Her IQ is 155, she claims, and she's pleased to have met me (and I her).
So occasionally she hangs back after all of the other smoker's disperse. And sometimes there's another fella that hangs back with her. He doesn't say all that much (no one does), but he walks, too. The residents smoke quietly, two cigarettes per gathering, lighter lit by the designated C.N.A. Also, each resident must adorn a flame retardant bib, prior to being lit up.
And it's both interesting and sad to watch their initial agitation (upon arrival) turn into a calm mellow nothingness, similar to my first hand witnessing of the heroin junkies taking their medicine in a shooting gallery. Yes, I've seen some ugly things in my time (note: I was a disinterested observer, not a participant).
Anyway, speaking with Colleen makes for good conversation. She's happy that there's someone there to understand her. And she says she has to hurry up and talk to me as much as she can, because she's certain I'll be walking out of there (here) soon.
Meanwhile, Michaela and I are going back and forth with fast words flying every which way, and occasionally she's smiling. Yes. I am desperately trying to break down her barriers, but she's doing her best to maintain her composure. She's strong willed.
Then at last, we start moving forward.
Colleen watches us and joyfully waves goodbye, seeming to know exactly what's going on. I'm playing my innocent game, and probably, Michaela is playing her own.
Then in my room, I dismount. A better landing than yesterday, as I get catapulted into bed (literally). The banter continues as my designated C.N.A. (clothed in purple pajamas) arrives to assist Michaela's effort. And it appears as though I'm about to lose this round. I've yet to break her down and time is running out. But then suddenly, Michaela totally blows it (as I knew eventually she would). And here's how:
A week prior, as I was getting wheeled outdoors and into the courtyard, I spied out of the corner of my eye a young lady stuffing a bagel into her mouth (at the nurses station). And you know what? It was she. And she was maskless!
"So you do have lips, and a mouth, and by the looks of things, a chin," I mention matter of factly, without conviction.
And Michaela doesn't know what to do with this. At all. I mean, who would? Her facial expression is priceless. What a "nothing" thing to say, right.
So she's probably wondering why I stopped short, right? Normally, I'm either encouraging her (re: finishing her higher education), or going on and on about this and that (which she encourages, by simply paying attention and listening to what I say). But in those moments, she's unsettled and distracted while assisting the other C.N.A. in bringing me outside.
And now (a week later) we're momentarily paired up again. And I just know she's going to bring it up, the thing about me seeing her maskless.
"By the way… the other day, when I had my mask off… and you saw my mouth..." she starts.
"Sorry, I forgot to mention that you have... nice lips, and a decent mouth. Your chin? I'm not sure about that yet."
Michaela becomes immediately and obviously flustered, exhales loudly, then signs off with a well placed "Oh, Howard" before exiting prematurely.
You see, I believe she wanted me to acknowledge her in that way (or in some way), above and beyond my initial matter of fact observation. Right? Who wouldn't?
The thing is, I'm really intuitively picking up on conversational subtleties and physical nuances these days. It's as though everyone is already telling me (even without words) what they want, and how they want it. And you and I and everybody else can know this (if you do not already).
Perhaps it's that I am simply lagging behind in these kinds of interpersonal actions. Just perhaps. And maybe I am disadvantaged that way, and I'm the one being played by those around me.
Yes, it seems I am naive when it comes to so many things, including the way all of this works. Then again, how can anybody truly know all of everything?
So you know, I want to live a million billion years and see this whole thing through. And once I have, I'll come back and explain everything simply, so each of you knows and understands… if that's what you truly want.
Take care,
Howard
Stopping Just Short
Not much is happening here. Or if things are actually happening, I'm missing out because ...I am most often fully outdoors, basking in the peacefulness. Today I stayed in the shade from 915am all the way until … until Michaela showed. She hadn't specifically come outside to retrieve me, but that's the way things worked out today as dusk conspired against me.
Bugged - Gnats, a host of persistent gnats swarming and swirling defied my direct orders to cease and desist. Some I swallowed whole, others I inhaled accidentally. But I swear to you, I just simply had to breathe. My nature versus theirs. I win, for now.
So resident Colleen is watching with a bemused expression splashed across her face as Michaela jostles me about in attempts to secure me (immediately prior to my room return). Meanwhile, I continue to make a spectacle of myself by half-heartedly waving off the damn gnats.
Colleen is the last one sitting in the courtyard, at the smoker's table. Usually there are ten of them to start off, arriving in all fashions, mostly on wheels (at a designated 4-hour interval). But Colleen doesn't roll like the rest of them, she instead walks, and thinks, and says things. Her IQ is 155, she claims, and she's pleased to have met me (and I her).
So occasionally she hangs back after all of the other smoker's disperse. And sometimes there's another fella that hangs back with her. He doesn't say all that much (no one does), but he walks, too. The residents smoke quietly, two cigarettes per gathering, lighter lit by the designated C.N.A. Also, each resident must adorn a flame retardant bib, prior to being lit up.
And it's both interesting and sad to watch their initial agitation (upon arrival) turn into a calm mellow nothingness, similar to my first hand witnessing of the heroin junkies taking their medicine in a shooting gallery. Yes, I've seen some ugly things in my time (note: I was a disinterested observer, not a participant).
Anyway, speaking with Colleen makes for good conversation. She's happy that there's someone there to understand her. And she says she has to hurry up and talk to me as much as she can, because she's certain I'll be walking out of there (here) soon.
Meanwhile, Michaela and I are going back and forth with fast words flying every which way, and occasionally she's smiling. Yes. I am desperately trying to break down her barriers, but she's doing her best to maintain her composure. She's strong willed.
Then at last, we start moving forward.
Colleen watches us and joyfully waves goodbye, seeming to know exactly what's going on. I'm playing my innocent game, and probably, Michaela is playing her own.
Then in my room, I dismount. A better landing than yesterday, as I get catapulted into bed (literally). The banter continues as my designated C.N.A. (clothed in purple pajamas) arrives to assist Michaela's effort. And it appears as though I'm about to lose this round. I've yet to break her down and time is running out. But then suddenly, Michaela totally blows it (as I knew eventually she would). And here's how:
A week prior, as I was getting wheeled outdoors and into the courtyard, I spied out of the corner of my eye a young lady stuffing a bagel into her mouth (at the nurses station). And you know what? It was she. And she was maskless!
"So you do have lips, and a mouth, and by the looks of things, a chin," I mention matter of factly, without conviction.
And Michaela doesn't know what to do with this. At all. I mean, who would? Her facial expression is priceless. What a "nothing" thing to say, right.
So she's probably wondering why I stopped short, right? Normally, I'm either encouraging her (re: finishing her higher education), or going on and on about this and that (which she encourages, by simply paying attention and listening to what I say). But in those moments, she's unsettled and distracted while assisting the other C.N.A. in bringing me outside.
And now (a week later) we're momentarily paired up again. And I just know she's going to bring it up, the thing about me seeing her maskless.
"By the way… the other day, when I had my mask off… and you saw my mouth..." she starts.
"Sorry, I forgot to mention that you have... nice lips, and a decent mouth. Your chin? I'm not sure about that yet."
Michaela becomes immediately and obviously flustered, exhales loudly, then signs off with a well placed "Oh, Howard" before exiting prematurely.
You see, I believe she wanted me to acknowledge her in that way (or in some way), above and beyond my initial matter of fact observation. Right? Who wouldn't?
The thing is, I'm really intuitively picking up on conversational subtleties and physical nuances these days. It's as though everyone is already telling me (even without words) what they want, and how they want it. And you and I and everybody else can know this (if you do not already).
Perhaps it's that I am simply lagging behind in these kinds of interpersonal actions. Just perhaps. And maybe I am disadvantaged that way, and I'm the one being played by those around me.
Yes, it seems I am naive when it comes to so many things, including the way all of this works. Then again, how can anybody truly know all of everything?
So you know, I want to live a million billion years and see this whole thing through. And once I have, I'll come back and explain everything simply, so each of you knows and understands… if that's what you truly want.
Take care,
Howard