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mallorys_cameraLast year I did this on January 1, but what the hell…
1. What did you do in 2012 that you'd never done before?
That I hadn't done before? Nothing, really. But then I'm old.
2. Did you keep your new years' resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I don't think I made any New Year's resolutions last year. I think I instinctively knew I lacked the psychological wherewithal to actually follow through on them.
This year I am in a much better place both physically (thank you, Cassandra) and psychologically. This year my resolutions are (a) to do VITA, (b) to do Suicide Prevention, (c) to do bankruptcy, (d) to get the damn car fixed. I'd also like to make new pals to do stuff with.
3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
Not that I know of.
4. Did anyone close to you die?
Yep. The Reaper had a bonanza year.
Death Numero Uno: May 22. Night before RTT's graduation, Craig died. Janis called me in a panic, so I drove back up to Freeville, sat with her on her side of the Cement Bungalow, held her hand while Craig gurgled and Cheynes-Stoked and eventually passed away into the great blue hereafter.
I don't like Janis and I didn't like Craig, so I suppose you could cite this as just one more example of me allowing myself to be involved in a situation that I truly didn't want to be. Except I knew if Janis was calling me, she truly did not have anyone else to turn to. And I just couldn't bear the thought of someone watching her lover die all alone.
It was sad. Craig was a slimeball, but he wasn't stupid. He was charismatic. And occasionally I would get glimpses of what he could have been like if life hadn't molded him the way it did. He was a casualty. From a long line of casualties.
Death Numero Duo: July 30. I had to put Milo to sleep. I hadn't been able to keep Milo after the Evil Landlord sold the Cement Bungalow, and there was no way I could bring him to Long Island.
I had talked Ben into taking him, but in typical Ben fashion, Ben weaseled about the actual date. So at the end of May, I made arrangements to board Milo for a month. Then the boarding arrangements fell through, and I had to take him to the ASPCA. They don't board animals, but they will let you surrender animals you can't keep anymore.
I was crying hysterically while I filled out the paperwork. Oh, Milo. I had wanted to get you your own herd of cattle, but it turns out I can't even keep you in your own home. And no one will ever want to adopt you. You're just too old. You'll die in a fucking cage. The sweetest dog who ever lived or pranced on a beach.
Some kindly vet tech touched my arm and whispered, "Call them. Sometimes they will make arrangements so you can get your animal back when your life stabilizes again."
So I did. Ben was still saying he would take Milo at the beginning of August.
Then the vet called me. The vet had found out that Milo had cancer. It was a fast-acting cancer. But he could have a good six months, I thought.
Who fucking knows with Ben? He claimed he was looking for another place to live. But then he got sick, went into that hepatic coma. And, no, I don't think he did that deliberately so he wouldn't have to take Milo.
But the upshot was there was no place for Milo to have that good six months. So I had to have him put to sleep.
I'd sent the ASPCA money every week for Milo's upkeep, but they wouldn't let me see him. So the day they put him to sleep was really the first time I'd seen him in two months. And he had changed. Noticeably. I'm not even sure he recognized me.
They let me take him for a walk, and I noticed he wasn't prancing. Walking stiffly, guardedly. He hurts, I thought. So it really was time. And I held him on my lap and petted him after they gave him the injection, talked to him about Dog Heaven, a place that was just like Del Monte beach in Monterey. And right before he died, he opened his eyes and looked at me. It was such a sweet look, and rightly or wrongly, I felt as though he was blessing me.
The odd thing is that I'm not much of a dog lover. Milo was Robin's dog. But Robin didn't take care of him, so that had turned him into my dog.
Death Numero Tres: December 4. Justin committed suicide. I still don’t know how. Presumably, Robin knows because he saw the post-mortem shots after the police recovered the body.
I've written about this extensively and very recently.
5. What countries did you visit?
None.
6. What would you like to have in 2013 that you lacked in 2012?
Money. More pals. I don't actually need close pals. I need what slf used to call "activity partners."
7. What dates from 2012 will remain etched upon your memory?
July 20. Ben was admitted to the ICU. He'd broken his front tooth about two month earlier and didn't have the money to see a dentist. He'd been taking massive amounts of ibuprofen to quell the pain. The ibuprofen drove him into liver failure.
His initial diagnosis was esophageal varices. He was losing massive amounts of blood. So they stuck a tube down his throat and took various 3-D pix of his internal organs. "He's an alcoholic, right?" the docs asked Ben's girlfriend.
Except Ben hardly drinks at all.
The meds they gave him for the endoscopy threw him into what's called hepatic encephalopathy. Funny – it took them two days to come up with that diagnosis. I knew instantly, testimony to my terrific diagnostic skills. I shoulda been a DOCTAH!!!!
Anyway, it turns out that Ben has had some form of hepatitis for like 35 years or more. He didn't know it. I didn't know it. It isn't the form of hepatitis that's sexually transmitted. Nonetheless, I rushed to my doctor to get liver tests.
Doctor says my liver is fine. Doctor confirmed my own self-diagnosis of the autoimmune disease.
I was the first person Ben recognized as he was coming out of his coma. I thought that was significant somehow. I thought it reflected the fact that we were still deeply, inextricably entwined on some basic psychic level. But probably all it means is that I thrust my face close to his and said, "HI BEN!! DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?", in that cheery, overly bright voice you use with the mentally defective, at the exact moment when his brain was starting to clear.
I went to visit him for the last time on the day he was discharged from the hospital. He was pretty cheerful. After all, he'd almost been dead. And now he was alive.
"I've come to say goodbye," I said. "It's the end of the movie. I think it's unlikely we'll see each other again."
"Oh, don't say that," he said. "We'll see each other. I still need to win back my Perquacky crown!"
He was cheerful because he still didn't know what had happened to him. In fact, he'd been handed an indeterminate sentence. Some time within the next few years, his liver's going to shut down completely.
We still text practically every day. And talk on the phone occasionally. But he's not the person I used to know. Not even the person I used to know but living within another context (if that makes any kind of sense.) Some part of him is gone. I almost wrote, "Some essential part of him is gone," but actually Ben is a chameleon. I'm not sure he has any essential parts. He adapts whatever colorations protective or otherwise, are in his environment. And his environment now is very different from what it was when I was a part of it.
8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
I finished the first draft of the Steinbeck/Campbell novel. I got the hell out of a place I didn't want to be.
9. What was your biggest failure?
Well, the money situation is problematic. Actually, the amount I've been earning for the past few months is sufficient for the monthly nut. This is a vast improvement. Problemo is that I have back debts I need to pay, and I would like to start saving. Also, the revenue stream is uncertain. It's dependent upon how much work is out there.
10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Yes. I developed an autoimmune disease. Psoriasis. My entire life, I've been strong as a bull. I mean, I never get sick. So this is very weird. The autoimmune disease is stress-related – I mean, stress brings on its symptoms. I think the last three years were so unrelentingly difficult that I destroyed my immune system. Things are much, much better now. Hopefully, I can bring my symptoms into remission. We shall see.
11. What was the best thing you bought?
Buy? You mean, with money? That's a joke, isn't it?
12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
Oh, sans doubte, Cassandra. She made room on the lifeboat.
13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
Oddly enough, Ben's brother Lew. I say "oddly enough" because I'd always thought he liked me, or at least was rooting for me. But in Ben's hospital room, he had the gall to tell me what a terrible mother I was, his eyes glittering and alive with malicious pleasure. It was like he'd been saving it up, the passive aggressive asshole. What a self-righteous putz.
It's good that Lew said that to me since it had the effect of snapping me out of an impossible situation. Nope, nope. I was a good mother. But you know what? I don't have to be a good mother anymore. Being a good mother to Robin is no longer one of my priorities. I love Robin. I wish all good things for him. But I'm no longer a caretaker in any sense of the word. He doesn't want it, and Ben hovers over him like a magpie over a nest with an eagle's egg in it. So I'm done.
14. Where did most of your money go?
Rent. Phone. Pets.
15. What did you do that gave you a sense of completion?
Finishing the first draft of the novel. Getting the hell out of Dodge.
16. What song will always remind you of 2012?
Emiliana Torrini. The Sunny Road.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MyuL1z2tejs
17. Compared to this time last year, you are:
Happier of sadder: Happier.
Thinner or fatter: About the same.
Richer or poorer: "Rich" is not a word I would ever use to describe my financial situation. I have more money coming in.
18. What do you wish you'd done more of?
Enjoying myself. When I went to Nancy's bday party a couple of months ago, I had such a fabulous time. Of course, I also got wasted in the first time in like five billion years. So maybe I just need to smoke more dope.
19. What do you wish you'd done less of?
Copywriting. But that's the income stream at present. That will change in October when I get passive income! Yea! Although I'll still have to do some copywriting. Not as much as I'm doing now though
20. How will you be spending Christmas?
Cooking. Cleaning. Reading. Talking to people I love on the phone. Going to the movies.
21. What was your favorite month of 2012?
June. Max came to visit, and I had such a good time with him.
22. Did you fall in love in 2012?
No. Not sure how I feel about that. A month ago, I would have said falling in love is something I want. Now I'm not sure.
23. How many one-night stands?
None.
24. What was your favorite TV program?
Parenthood, The Good Wife, The Hour
25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?
Hate? No one. I'm happy enough just to own "dislike" (See answer to Question 13 above.) Honest hatred is something I'll have to move into slowly.
26. What was the best book you read?
Nonfiction? Charles Ferguson's Predator Nation. Fiction? Lorrie Moore's Birds of America; Lloyd Shepard's The English Monster.
27. What was your greatest musical discovery?
Opera.
28. What did you want and get?
To GET THE HELL OUT OF DODGE!!!!!!
29. What did you want and not get?
A larger and more dependable income stream.
30. What was your favorite film of this year?
Hmmm… Probably Safety Not Guaranteed, which I thought, was a terrific "small" movie
31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
Ben took me to Aurora, which I thought was terrifically sweet of him. I turned 60.
32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
More money, more pals, less autoimmune disease.
33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2012?
Basic bag lady.
34. What kept you sane?
Me. This LJ into which I can pour my uncensored soul.
35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
None.
36. What political issue stirred you the most?
Obama's refusal to prosecute financial crooks. He appointed them to his economic advisory team instead.
37. Who did you miss?
Max. Susan. Marybeth. Tom Mandel.
38. Who were the best new people you met?
Cassandra and Allan. Jeff Watson. Well. Of course, I "knew" these people before I knew these people.
39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2012:
Perseverance furthers. But only up to a certain point, because life, she is short.
40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:
Wrote you this,
I hope you got it saved…
1. What did you do in 2012 that you'd never done before?
That I hadn't done before? Nothing, really. But then I'm old.
2. Did you keep your new years' resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I don't think I made any New Year's resolutions last year. I think I instinctively knew I lacked the psychological wherewithal to actually follow through on them.
This year I am in a much better place both physically (thank you, Cassandra) and psychologically. This year my resolutions are (a) to do VITA, (b) to do Suicide Prevention, (c) to do bankruptcy, (d) to get the damn car fixed. I'd also like to make new pals to do stuff with.
3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
Not that I know of.
4. Did anyone close to you die?
Yep. The Reaper had a bonanza year.
Death Numero Uno: May 22. Night before RTT's graduation, Craig died. Janis called me in a panic, so I drove back up to Freeville, sat with her on her side of the Cement Bungalow, held her hand while Craig gurgled and Cheynes-Stoked and eventually passed away into the great blue hereafter.
I don't like Janis and I didn't like Craig, so I suppose you could cite this as just one more example of me allowing myself to be involved in a situation that I truly didn't want to be. Except I knew if Janis was calling me, she truly did not have anyone else to turn to. And I just couldn't bear the thought of someone watching her lover die all alone.
It was sad. Craig was a slimeball, but he wasn't stupid. He was charismatic. And occasionally I would get glimpses of what he could have been like if life hadn't molded him the way it did. He was a casualty. From a long line of casualties.
Death Numero Duo: July 30. I had to put Milo to sleep. I hadn't been able to keep Milo after the Evil Landlord sold the Cement Bungalow, and there was no way I could bring him to Long Island.
I had talked Ben into taking him, but in typical Ben fashion, Ben weaseled about the actual date. So at the end of May, I made arrangements to board Milo for a month. Then the boarding arrangements fell through, and I had to take him to the ASPCA. They don't board animals, but they will let you surrender animals you can't keep anymore.
I was crying hysterically while I filled out the paperwork. Oh, Milo. I had wanted to get you your own herd of cattle, but it turns out I can't even keep you in your own home. And no one will ever want to adopt you. You're just too old. You'll die in a fucking cage. The sweetest dog who ever lived or pranced on a beach.
Some kindly vet tech touched my arm and whispered, "Call them. Sometimes they will make arrangements so you can get your animal back when your life stabilizes again."
So I did. Ben was still saying he would take Milo at the beginning of August.
Then the vet called me. The vet had found out that Milo had cancer. It was a fast-acting cancer. But he could have a good six months, I thought.
Who fucking knows with Ben? He claimed he was looking for another place to live. But then he got sick, went into that hepatic coma. And, no, I don't think he did that deliberately so he wouldn't have to take Milo.
But the upshot was there was no place for Milo to have that good six months. So I had to have him put to sleep.
I'd sent the ASPCA money every week for Milo's upkeep, but they wouldn't let me see him. So the day they put him to sleep was really the first time I'd seen him in two months. And he had changed. Noticeably. I'm not even sure he recognized me.
They let me take him for a walk, and I noticed he wasn't prancing. Walking stiffly, guardedly. He hurts, I thought. So it really was time. And I held him on my lap and petted him after they gave him the injection, talked to him about Dog Heaven, a place that was just like Del Monte beach in Monterey. And right before he died, he opened his eyes and looked at me. It was such a sweet look, and rightly or wrongly, I felt as though he was blessing me.
The odd thing is that I'm not much of a dog lover. Milo was Robin's dog. But Robin didn't take care of him, so that had turned him into my dog.
Death Numero Tres: December 4. Justin committed suicide. I still don’t know how. Presumably, Robin knows because he saw the post-mortem shots after the police recovered the body.
I've written about this extensively and very recently.
5. What countries did you visit?
None.
6. What would you like to have in 2013 that you lacked in 2012?
Money. More pals. I don't actually need close pals. I need what slf used to call "activity partners."
7. What dates from 2012 will remain etched upon your memory?
July 20. Ben was admitted to the ICU. He'd broken his front tooth about two month earlier and didn't have the money to see a dentist. He'd been taking massive amounts of ibuprofen to quell the pain. The ibuprofen drove him into liver failure.
His initial diagnosis was esophageal varices. He was losing massive amounts of blood. So they stuck a tube down his throat and took various 3-D pix of his internal organs. "He's an alcoholic, right?" the docs asked Ben's girlfriend.
Except Ben hardly drinks at all.
The meds they gave him for the endoscopy threw him into what's called hepatic encephalopathy. Funny – it took them two days to come up with that diagnosis. I knew instantly, testimony to my terrific diagnostic skills. I shoulda been a DOCTAH!!!!
Anyway, it turns out that Ben has had some form of hepatitis for like 35 years or more. He didn't know it. I didn't know it. It isn't the form of hepatitis that's sexually transmitted. Nonetheless, I rushed to my doctor to get liver tests.
Doctor says my liver is fine. Doctor confirmed my own self-diagnosis of the autoimmune disease.
I was the first person Ben recognized as he was coming out of his coma. I thought that was significant somehow. I thought it reflected the fact that we were still deeply, inextricably entwined on some basic psychic level. But probably all it means is that I thrust my face close to his and said, "HI BEN!! DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?", in that cheery, overly bright voice you use with the mentally defective, at the exact moment when his brain was starting to clear.
I went to visit him for the last time on the day he was discharged from the hospital. He was pretty cheerful. After all, he'd almost been dead. And now he was alive.
"I've come to say goodbye," I said. "It's the end of the movie. I think it's unlikely we'll see each other again."
"Oh, don't say that," he said. "We'll see each other. I still need to win back my Perquacky crown!"
He was cheerful because he still didn't know what had happened to him. In fact, he'd been handed an indeterminate sentence. Some time within the next few years, his liver's going to shut down completely.
We still text practically every day. And talk on the phone occasionally. But he's not the person I used to know. Not even the person I used to know but living within another context (if that makes any kind of sense.) Some part of him is gone. I almost wrote, "Some essential part of him is gone," but actually Ben is a chameleon. I'm not sure he has any essential parts. He adapts whatever colorations protective or otherwise, are in his environment. And his environment now is very different from what it was when I was a part of it.
8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
I finished the first draft of the Steinbeck/Campbell novel. I got the hell out of a place I didn't want to be.
9. What was your biggest failure?
Well, the money situation is problematic. Actually, the amount I've been earning for the past few months is sufficient for the monthly nut. This is a vast improvement. Problemo is that I have back debts I need to pay, and I would like to start saving. Also, the revenue stream is uncertain. It's dependent upon how much work is out there.
10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Yes. I developed an autoimmune disease. Psoriasis. My entire life, I've been strong as a bull. I mean, I never get sick. So this is very weird. The autoimmune disease is stress-related – I mean, stress brings on its symptoms. I think the last three years were so unrelentingly difficult that I destroyed my immune system. Things are much, much better now. Hopefully, I can bring my symptoms into remission. We shall see.
11. What was the best thing you bought?
Buy? You mean, with money? That's a joke, isn't it?
12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
Oh, sans doubte, Cassandra. She made room on the lifeboat.
13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
Oddly enough, Ben's brother Lew. I say "oddly enough" because I'd always thought he liked me, or at least was rooting for me. But in Ben's hospital room, he had the gall to tell me what a terrible mother I was, his eyes glittering and alive with malicious pleasure. It was like he'd been saving it up, the passive aggressive asshole. What a self-righteous putz.
It's good that Lew said that to me since it had the effect of snapping me out of an impossible situation. Nope, nope. I was a good mother. But you know what? I don't have to be a good mother anymore. Being a good mother to Robin is no longer one of my priorities. I love Robin. I wish all good things for him. But I'm no longer a caretaker in any sense of the word. He doesn't want it, and Ben hovers over him like a magpie over a nest with an eagle's egg in it. So I'm done.
14. Where did most of your money go?
Rent. Phone. Pets.
15. What did you do that gave you a sense of completion?
Finishing the first draft of the novel. Getting the hell out of Dodge.
16. What song will always remind you of 2012?
Emiliana Torrini. The Sunny Road.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MyuL1z2tejs
17. Compared to this time last year, you are:
Happier of sadder: Happier.
Thinner or fatter: About the same.
Richer or poorer: "Rich" is not a word I would ever use to describe my financial situation. I have more money coming in.
18. What do you wish you'd done more of?
Enjoying myself. When I went to Nancy's bday party a couple of months ago, I had such a fabulous time. Of course, I also got wasted in the first time in like five billion years. So maybe I just need to smoke more dope.
19. What do you wish you'd done less of?
Copywriting. But that's the income stream at present. That will change in October when I get passive income! Yea! Although I'll still have to do some copywriting. Not as much as I'm doing now though
20. How will you be spending Christmas?
Cooking. Cleaning. Reading. Talking to people I love on the phone. Going to the movies.
21. What was your favorite month of 2012?
June. Max came to visit, and I had such a good time with him.
22. Did you fall in love in 2012?
No. Not sure how I feel about that. A month ago, I would have said falling in love is something I want. Now I'm not sure.
23. How many one-night stands?
None.
24. What was your favorite TV program?
Parenthood, The Good Wife, The Hour
25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?
Hate? No one. I'm happy enough just to own "dislike" (See answer to Question 13 above.) Honest hatred is something I'll have to move into slowly.
26. What was the best book you read?
Nonfiction? Charles Ferguson's Predator Nation. Fiction? Lorrie Moore's Birds of America; Lloyd Shepard's The English Monster.
27. What was your greatest musical discovery?
Opera.
28. What did you want and get?
To GET THE HELL OUT OF DODGE!!!!!!
29. What did you want and not get?
A larger and more dependable income stream.
30. What was your favorite film of this year?
Hmmm… Probably Safety Not Guaranteed, which I thought, was a terrific "small" movie
31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
Ben took me to Aurora, which I thought was terrifically sweet of him. I turned 60.
32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
More money, more pals, less autoimmune disease.
33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2012?
Basic bag lady.
34. What kept you sane?
Me. This LJ into which I can pour my uncensored soul.
35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
None.
36. What political issue stirred you the most?
Obama's refusal to prosecute financial crooks. He appointed them to his economic advisory team instead.
37. Who did you miss?
Max. Susan. Marybeth. Tom Mandel.
38. Who were the best new people you met?
Cassandra and Allan. Jeff Watson. Well. Of course, I "knew" these people before I knew these people.
39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2012:
Perseverance furthers. But only up to a certain point, because life, she is short.
40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:
Wrote you this,
I hope you got it saved…
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Date: 2012-12-25 04:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-25 08:38 pm (UTC)So I've been told, I mean.
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Date: 2012-12-26 02:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-27 05:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-27 01:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-27 01:12 pm (UTC)