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2014: Done and Dusted

It's been almost two years since my best friend and I ceased speaking. We had known one another for well over 40 years. I still think of her most days and I can think of no other way to refer to her other than, "My best friend". When I think about her I think about her in the same manner I have always thought about her: I wonder what she might be doing. I wonder how the lobster season went. I wonder if she is well; if she is still struggling to grow and be better than she feels. I think of her in tender fond ways. Mostly I just hope that each day finds her peace and resolution in her own difficult life. I hope she is doing the same for me. I want her to know I am happy and wish her the best.

I begin talking to R after thirty years of just wondering. I learn he's survived great obstacles and came out the other side intact. I learn from him that where he lives one can get a tax credit for building a bomb shelter in their home. This all sounds normal to him. I think he should catch the next bus out.

I hear from Martin after a two year silence. Martin doesn't know this but he triggered a series of events about hoarders which resulted in my learning of a childhood friend, a chronic hoarder, having had a HAZMAT team sent to her home where the skeletal remains of her deceased father where found amongst the debris. Everyone is OK now.

Thanksgiving was a wonderful time for me here. I had 16 for a sit down traditional meal and I was the only one to break a glass! Enough said. The time around Thanksgiving allowed me to tease out a dilemma I was faced with, sort it, and feel good about the outcome. It also confirmed for me how absolutely aggravating clarity and boundaries are for some people. How utterly murderous people feel sometimes when they don't get their way and how poisonous bile is. One can get so quickly caught up into its grasp that one begins spewing it too without even knowing why. Honestly? It confirms for me just how easy it is to go along with something if the force is strong enough. Get an eloquent speaker, add a nasty streak that is a bit frightening, and cloth it in something stylish, and voila. More people than you want to imagine will be buying tickets for the next show. That doesn't make it less difficult to make decisions. It doesn't hurt less (though I'm down to nanoseconds versus weeks) to see the lengths others go to pull you into the muck. I feel strong in my spine and good about the truth I cling steadfastly to. Yes, it is a bit weird to run into those girls in the bathroom wanting to pick a fight. But hey, I can go pee elsewhere.

And then I hear from Mohammad… He just had a girl. It will be the thing that keeps him satisfied for the rest of his life. It will be the thing that eases the pain of giving up his dreams. I hope and say a prayer that my words are the truth. I scratch my head wondering what kind of lives others lead and what does it feel like to have someone else tell you what to dream.

I was invited to join an English language group and so far have met only great people in it. I quit smoking. I've purchased my first ma'amoul mould and in a matter of days will be teaching myself how to make ma'amoul's. C&J are in the final stages of making final their move here. I feel upbeat about 2015. I think love is around the corner...





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