Watermelons have always been round or oval fruit, both seeded and non~seeded. Yet the Japanese (such a creative people) placed them in square, pyramid, and heart shaped containers to grow them and now there are square, pyramid, and heart shaped watermelons! They would be easier to slice, they are still red, juicy, fruit and their shape is the only thing that has changed.
Now I would like to share with you a lil somethin' somethin' I discovered today. Know that I feel nothing about this, not jealous, not hurt, not angry~ nothing at all. It is just information to me. My X Diane at this very moment is traveling across Europe with Karen, they are going up to the Belgium/German mountains and I don't know where else, to camp out and do some mountain bike riding. Karen is taking care of her every need just as I did here, as Diane has not been able to find a job still. I wish them both safety and happiness.
However, the reason I am mentioning this is because it is a gift to me to KNOW and I'll tell you why. It reinforces once again that I can't compete with keeping up with Diane's needs or likes, or make her happy any longer (which couples should be able to do), in the physical condition I am in. I have different needs now, and it would take a different kind of person to interest me enough to want to have some fun. I would never be able to go hiking or biking like I used to.
More than half of the things that were good about "us" involved things I can no longer do. And I would not be happy knowing she would have the burden of taking care of me, helping me around, blah blah blah. It isn't fair to ask that of anyone. Even though many people do so, it just isn't right for me... and I KNOW it wouldn't be for her.
Shoot, I could barely walk if I lost my head and had to go find it. I could barely walk if my nose was running and I had to go catch it. If my own ass was on fire there's NO way I could hop up into one of those water filled barrels to put it out. I have become my own safety hazard and should have it tattooed onto me forehead !
This once again cements further that the break up was a good change, even if I couldn't see that when it happened and for a long time after... I don't agree with how she went about doing it, however I am very thankful right now that she had the guts and courage to do what she felt was right for her, because in doing so, it forced me to do what is right for me. So, my pernt is this; She and I are much like the different shaped watermelons... We are still
fruit gay lovable beautiful worthwhile women but we have each changed shape in our own ways. We no longer fit together. But we are still edible as the watermelons are... (yes, I just HAD to go there). Thinking of it from that perspective helps me grow, and brings me peace. OK, let's move this train outta da station, k?
The pictures below were taken this evening by Christophe who is spending another night with me. This is him sitting on the steps out front. (SO frikking cute, he is... I LERVE him).
If we come in the back entrance, there are no stairs so that is how my gimpy self gets in & out. There are three of these buildings next to each other, and @ night, they are lighted all around and just gorgeous. There are plants everywhere that the owners maintain. I can lay in my bed and look out onto Park Ave. watching what goes on which can prove to be interesting, as this has not been a good neighborhood for years. It was run down, with riff~raff (patty whack, throw the bum a bone...just HAD to do it was flyin around in my head) every where and used for dealing drugs & prostitutes walking the streets.
These 3 buildings were erected prior to 1930, & there are a few photos such as this one, in our lobby. I have often imagined what it was like living here back then. No air conditioning, probably a large percentage of the resident's husbands gone to war.... I don't exactly know what the main industries were here in the Midwest, since I am not from here, but if I had to guess I'd say farming of course, maybe mercantile, and the railroads.
Urban Village is a development company owned by locals, who are working hard to restore Midtown Omaha. Just last year, this whole area was rundown, the buildings all boarded up and condemned, homeless people living in them until they got caught. Then this company bought about 10 -15 large buildings throughout the neighborhood & began to gut them out, and start with all brand new innards. That's why I am the first to live in my apt., we all are. Their plan is to build this community up again and restore some respect for what it used to be. (awwww). What they are doing has pretty much removed the riff~raff, although we may see a few here and there but they must be homeless because they surely couldn't afford to live here without a good income, that's for sure. This company does an extensive background check to make sure renters are on the up & up, and there is a cop living in every of the 3 buildings. This is what they look like now. If you look closely, on the right side of the building there is a sign that says "An Urban Village Development" and my lil ole apt. is the 2 winders right above it.
And from the inside, the 2 winders you can see behind the sinkarooni in my tiny kitchen are the 2 winders you can see from out front. How clever am I....
Those 4 designs at the top of the building have lights in them and point the light downward which makes it look almost mystical at night, and because my apt. is the front one, it sends night light into my windows, which I find so comforting. There are also lights among the plants between the buildings.
And for your enjoyment only, here's a little foot ....
Christophe and I often sit on the stoop out front in the evening, when he comes over. More than once around midnight we have gone out to do so and there is a very
obese chubby African~American woman who walks up and down across the street from one corner to the next, singing some shitty song at the top of her lungs into the night air. She walks like she sees herself as a diva, swinging her bag, dresses like a fruitcake with her clothes always way too tight, in fact I will dare to think she is a whore! Yes, a prostitute trying to run up sum bid~ness. She ends up disappearing into the night at some point or she will be picked up down the street by who can only be a "John." Off they go happily into the darkness to do whatever they do. (vomits a lil in my throat @ da thought). But hey, c'est la vie, eh? It happens every where. I don't mean to judge, just tellin' da fax, ma'm, just da fax. Well, I must say it's time to wrap it up. Good night, Irene, good night Irene, I'll see you in my dreams!
(images from Photobucket except the black/white which is an actual photo of the building I live in)