Is it something else?

Things to do:

  1. Get up off my ass.
  2. Laundry.
  3. Errands.

No more long afternoons sitting on my butt, watching YouTube vids.

Ach! Newton coulda just studied me for his theory of gravity. Once in motion, I’m difficult to stop and once I’ve stopped it’s difficult to get moving again.

I’ve grown wide again. Weight doesn’t really hang off me left to right, as I look in a mirror. My silhouette is my silhouette. But I get thick. When I turn to the side I see it. It’s like watching the trunk of a tree grow. It always looks like the same tree, but the trunk gets thicker each year. I hate it.

Have to get online and order my injections. The hospital sent me a notice that said: It seems you’re due to order your injections again; we’ve changed our website and now you’ve gotta jump thru a ring of fire before we’ll connect you. Just a warning! Geez. Am I the only one left wondering over the fact that if they know I’m due for more injections why don’t they just ask to schedule a delivery date? Why make me jump thru the ring of fire? Seriously!

Whispers of possible snowfall are out on the internet weather stations. It looks it, too. Seems Monday was our only sunshine for the whole month. We’re back to solid iron grey skies and dark; the automatic lights around the city shine all day long. If I’m honest, it’s a thousand times better for my eyes. Bright light hurts my head every time. My right pupil doesn’t react the same as my left and the disparity between the two is part of my headache problem; that much I’ve discovered. Been avoiding my glasses the past few days. While I still have sinus headaches from time to time (especially if I bend over for something), I don’t have the other headaches I was experiencing: sharp pain in the lower back of my skull. That, undoubtedly, is eye strain. I used to have some fun laser cut glasses. They threw rainbows around everywhere you looked. Use them long enough and you’ll get pain in the same area of your head because your eyes are straining to make sense of what you’re seeing. While I’m not thrilled to go back to seeing the world with that softened edge, I am thrilled to not have so much head pain every damned day. And the semi-darkness that sits over Rotterdam right now helps me out a lot; no squinting or shielding my eyes from bright sunlight.

Found myself very uneasy the other night as my bro and I watched some Ghost Adventures before I toddled off to bed. Let’s get this straight: I’m the first to make fun of Zak and the guys. They’re flipping hilarious, and I’m building a spoof based on the show. I’m also well aware a lot of what’s shown is bullshit and not worth anything. GA is an entertainment show first. However. Even fools stumble into fearful situations from time to time. I do not make light of anything they ‘chase’. That, in my opinion, is a mistake. My brother is far more arrogant than I, tho. He began poking fun at something I didn’t think he should and I had to ask him to please stop and not make light of it. He was surprised. He shouldn’t be, really. I am far more apt to carry the physical repercussions of encounters than he. I feel my writing and research puts me in harm’s way enough; the household doesn’t need to seek out anything else or add fuel to the fire.

It’s been a long time since I woke up at precisely 3:15 a.m. Thankfully. It was a nightly occurrence for so long I became convinced 3:15 was the time of my death. I’m talking decades. All of it at my family home in Wisconsin. Lately I’ve been looking into the history of the area and my childhood memories. Last night I saw 3:15 on the dot once again. Coincidence? Some deeply hidden trigger within me? I can’t say for sure. But I can say I knew it was 3:15 a.m. before I looked at the clock. I felt it. It was the same feeling I had every night in my parents’ home at that time.

Some sites I’ve read say that the whole night-time wake up at the same time every night (particular in the 3 a.m. range) is indicative of spirit attachment, or some sort of spirit communication while I sleep.

Frankly, I don’t know what to think.

What I can say is this: as I write and cull through my childhood memories, it seems that I can cite many strange and unexplained things throughout that time. I never put it all down in one place before. Guess I didn’t realize how many ‘encounters’ or just weird stuff have happened. Lining it up, from start to finish… It’s long. And full.

Feeling a little deja vu. Kinda creepy because nothing in my current life really lines up with anything in my past. But still, it’s there. A film descends over my mind’s eye and I see/remember things from my past. It’s all feeling and no logic.

Is this some second childhood? Some break in my brain, some review of the past every middle aged person must endure?

Or is it something else?

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Underneath, the same

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I’ve never been much of a shoe person. If it fits and doesn’t kill my feet, it’s okay in my book.

I guess it’s no surprise in some ways, then, that when I was told the shop could do ANYTHING I let my imagination run wild. The multi fabric look I want is very custom, and the shop is emailing their suppliers to see if they have anything in stock that might work. My soles will be custom as well; if I wanted red soles on my feet no problem but me? I asked for purple. The down side of all this custom work means two things: one, I have to wait a bit longer because samples need to be looked at and two, if I don’t see what I want they can still do it – but it will cost extra. Hopefully next week I’ll have samples to look at and an estimate on the work.

Good news is they let me keep my trial pair. The guy was a bit shocked that I wore them all day, 9 to 10. I told him how fast I could walk, how secure I felt on a ladder. I also told him my bunions ached a bit late in the day and he responded that he’d adjust the shoe a little to make it better (they can make them BETTER?!?!). Had to ask how my heels are supposed to sit – like I said, I’ve NEVER had a pair of shoes like this. My left heel needs a little adjustment, the right more so.

He pulled all the pictures I took along. I hope I’m not throwing in everything I want and creating a Homer.

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I’ll take my chances.

Clean-up is going on as I type. New shelving units are up and my bro is securing one to the wall so it doesn’t tip over. I popped by a shop and picked up two ‘designer’ boxes to put stuff in. Okay – to hide stuff in. All that clutter that’s just laying haphazardly on the shelves. Leave it to the Netherlands to offer stock shelving units and stock designer boxes that fit the stock shelving units perfectly. Any other country and there’d be a 1-2 inch discrepancy that wouldn’t work.

And we FINALLY found some pigeon scarers for the balcony. Which is a good thing, because my bro said there’s a pile of shit out there that looks like Gyaos came for a visit.

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Ugh.

So we’re scheduled for a warm up. Supposedly 19C by Sunday. The windows will get thrown open and for a day or two at least, summer will be declared. I’ll bet you won’t be able to walk for five minutes in any direction before smelling a BBQ.

My friend J is coming for a visit near the end of April. Just got his and his boyfriend’s flight info. The timing is perfect; we can catch the metro out in front of the house in the morning and be at the airport by the time his flight is landing. We’ll help the two of them find their hotel and all that. Make sure we get some three day unlimited passes for them so they don’t have to worry about that. Help them with luggage. I can’t wait. Got to say I envy J a bit right now – seeing the Netherlands for the first time. I remember my culture shock the first time I came. Amsterdam is particularly seductive. It’s easy to run your feet into the ground by just wandering down one street and then the next canal to simply see the sights. Pretty soon you realize you’ve been doing that for three hours, your feet are killing you, you need a drink, and you’re now on the opposite side of town from where your hotel is. [Can you tell I took a few holidays here?] We’ll be able to get them to the fastest and easiest public transport. Help with Dutch. And have fun, too. Let’s not forget that.

My teacher gave me a signed copy of the book he co-wrote. He ran a publication for Sarlooswolfhond lovers and he has three at home. Beautiful dogs.

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It’s a bit above my reading skills, but I get a thrill each time I figure out a sentence. So I’ll work on it, slowly. And I’ve got the author right there to ask anything – words, ideas, concepts, history. It’s actually a great incentive for me. The people pleaser wants to let him know I appreciate his kindness and that I’m genuinely interested in his writing. I’m guessing I’ll learn more deconstructing his book that I will just reading the subtitles on the tv (tho that’s STILL a great method for picking up words).

And I’m having freaky deja vu. Many years ago my paternal great grandfather immigrated from Germany to the states. He didn’t speak any English. Nor did he have any money! He ended up camping out in a public library to get some sleep. A kind librarian noticed him, and helped him learn how to read. That’s how he taught himself the language. And he went on to become a great orator, journalist, and author. I feel like I’m doing that in reverse. Going from the states to Europe. Wanting to learn Dutch well enough to write in it. Already having people listen to me as I speak.

Doesn’t help that I always felt I was a man in previous lives. Nor do my ideas of karma and hamingja. But hey! If I was my paternal great grandfather in another life, I guess I’m doing exactly what needs to done. I gave comfort and love to my grandson/father, the lone survivor of the family line I disregarded. I’m returning to the area I came from [okay – not exactly the area I came from, but the general vicinity]. I’m writing. I’m making music. I’m doing all the things I did before.

Can an entire life be a deja vu? Fresh eyes, fresh body, fresh expression, of course. Yet…underneath, the same.