Falling Off

I'm down for the count and fighting a cold these last few days. Been a hard emotionally squishy hard week. It's the week of my mother's birthday, we're not close, but the burden of being the one to make the fuss falls on me because I'm the only child, even if I'm creeping up on 60 in six months.

I love my mother, truly I do, but we're both so different, a real chalk and cheese situation. I sent flowers and then undertook the monumental task of trying to reach her on the phone, made even more difficult by our flickering internet connections due to the Papagayo Winds screwing with everyone's utilities. Under the best of circumstances she does not answer her phone. I can go months and months without being able to get through. Her excuse is always she has a sinus infection and was laying down when I called.

However I know what the real subtext is here going on, and it is anxiety driven with some subtle other things going on. I finally broke down and called her sister, my aunt, to make sure she was alright. We keep threatening to call the town police for a well check.

I had heard through the family grapevine she's upset with me for never calling, which just enormously frustrates me because I call, I call copiously. She just never answers. Plus she has my Skype US number that rings my Costa Rican phone.

Guessing it's time to return to Louisiana and see if I can figure out what's really going on there again. Thank God one of my kids is supposed to be moving down to Louisiana soon and can keep an eye on Mom.

Jim's recovering from his slight motorcycle accident. He finally just said no to the hideous scraping of his wounds by the local doctors and is happier as a result.

But after seeing the words of one female cultural enforcer of QF this afternoon on the death of Kobe Bryant I have to wonder if she's trying to throw shade specifically at me. Listen up, chickie, if you are dumb enough to actually be attempting to say I should have fought him on it, or won him over to no motorcycle without a work may I say this. CRAM IT, RAM IT, ROTATE IT... He is a grown ass man fully able to determine what is and isn't an acceptable risk. I am not his freaking momma. I told him I don't like him riding it, but it's really his decision, not mine. Mine was to bump up his life insurance when he insisted. I told him if he took the risk, and was killed while I'd  miss him very much, at least I'd be a financially comfortable widow. He is an adult, I am an adult, and there no amount of brow beating, nagging, winning without a word. We will do what we will do.

Speaking of which, one of the unpleasant things this week was before he stopped having his wounds scraped, and was still taking the pain pills and muscle relaxers he announced last Sunday that he wanted to move back to the States. Why? Because he'd broken his shoulder, fallen off his motorcycle, endured ten trillion bug bites including two recent scorpion bites. Plus he'd had enough Ticos lying to him.

I had to ask where he thought we should go and what we should do. He wanted to move to Las Cruces, New Mexico and teach English at a junior college. If I had been like this female culture enforcer I would likely to packing up right now.

Instead I had to point out the sheer foolishness of this idea, point out it was his pain pills talking. Said he could go but I was staying put. Pointed out spending 48 hours in that town over 30 years ago is not enough to make any sort of real logical decision on. That his degree isn't even in teaching or English so he would not even qualify. That he is only bothered by the bug bites because he hasn't given it enough time.

One of the things I've learned here is that the whole bug bites/colds suffered quickly here is due to exposure to new bugs and colds. I am completely unaffected by the bug population, even when I am bit it's not a big deal and I never get infected. I think that is likely because I was raised in a tropical environment before widespread air conditioning, South Louisiana. I've gotten my tropical insect bite immunity now, even if I do react to stupid crap like cleansers and peoples colognes.

When we first moved here I would get each and every cold and flu coming down the pike, but  now I seem to have an immunity to them and am getting them far less frequently than I was. I think it will be the same for Jim if he just holds on, and stays off ladders, step stools and motorcycles. No more falling off things.

Everyone here has those moments, but it's rare to see anyone act upon them after the two year mark. Jim will have been here three years in March. Most folks bail just after a year. Most everyone else says. Look, I get it. I have had my moments of wanting to leave and go straight back home. Particularly when we were in the remote mountain village in the south part of Costa Rica. I cried every single day there and just hated it. Too much of a culture shock.

Not now. Now we live like idiot millionaires at the beach. We literally can drop everything and go to the beach. Hit the pool at any hour of day or night. Have no "Must Do" schedule. It's always that Tuesday afternoon the Moody Blues sing about. I feel so damn privileged and lucky to be here.

It's not perfect, but no place is. You just have to remember that the culture here means you cannot trust much, if anything, that comes out of the mouth of a Tico. In their culture they don't say hard unpleasant things, they try to please you. They are oh so nice, but not very truthful.

I don't know why that's getting to Jim right now because we both knew it, had been told it, read about it in books.

Dead Boyfriends: A Retrospective

One of the absolute weirdest things about creeping on old age and getting hollering distance to my 60s is hearing that old boyfriends have kicked the bucket.

Tonight I heard about Hayden, the younger brother of my cousin's boyfriend I dated all of a month way back in the 1970s. Eons ago. Usually we doubled with my cousin and her boyfriend now husband. We had little in common besides a love of rock and roll, Star Trek and a mutual love of making out like two silly sucker fish. It was one of those quick relationships where once you'd kissed someone almost to the point of dna exchange the mystery and the attraction quickly faded. You'd look back and think "Yuck!" unable to see what had first attracted you.

Hayden struggled with sex and drugs and rock and roll through the years I'd heard. A few different marriages and died at the same young age as my dad.

It's just so weird thinking about the vital young guy I knew looking bald and fish eyed and now gone on.

Not that Hayden is the only one, oh no, dead boyfriends there have been a few. Let's see, there was Frank, also a short lived high school relationship that revolved around crazy face sucking. He died young.

There was Karl, another quick high school romance predicated on lots of kissing that burned bright and quickly mutually fizzled out. Karl had a heart attack and died two years ago.

Followed by Chris. I was pretty angry when Chris passed fifteen years ago because I'd finally aged enough to see what utter ridiculous bullshit Chris fed me when he ended our relationship, which was pretty serious, at least on my side. Chris told me some mystical crapola about auras, times and vibrations, that we'd fine our way back to one another when the tumblers of the universe lined up just so. What a crock of crap! I stupidly believed him. I pined for him for several years, even as I dated other guys.

In retrospect I think I liked the Haydens, the Karls and the Franks in my life more than Chris. At least with the Franks, Karls and Haydens it was straightforward, it was honest, it was all about feelings and exploration. No one went away broken hearted even if once it was over it was very over. Chris hid behind his magical mystery tour pretty words.

Things

Stuff on my mind tonight.

• Papagayo Winds  - This is what has been wrecking my electric, tv and internet connections. Apparently cold weather in the States circles around, creating intense winds in Guanacaste. It's been extra bad this year, Over two weeks of trouble, and my internet and tv still not right.
• Stupid Kolbi/ICE provider of internet and television that has been a big fat failure in fixing this the first time. It's been like crazy. Called the Saturday when it happened, told someone would be out Monday. Went by the office Monday, no one scheduled, reported and scheduled for Tuesday. No one Tuesday but several more trips to the ICE office. Last night at 6 pm it mysteriously started working without anyone coming out. Started acting up by late night. Get up this morning and it has worked perfectly. Now it's cutting in and out. I suppose the monkeys just must be pissing on the wires or something odd. Guess tomorrow morning is another trip to ICE.
• Our buddy the guy who lost the dog - spent part of today taking him to the airport to fly back to the frozen north. He comes back next week and is moving to Nicaragua. I am going to miss him and his positive attitude in the face of the gossips.
• Wal Mart  - Make a Wal Mart run today. It's out by the airport in Liberia and lawdamercy never go to Wal Mart before lunch unless you want to fill your cart with every possible kind of frozen American food possible. The place was filled with Americans. I don't think I saw more than ten  Ticos in the entire store.
• The butcher - Hit the butcher by the airport, the place with the natural Nica beef minus hormones and antibiotics. Today was a particularly interesting bit of Tico assholery. Driving through the parking lot, threading through the warehouses and store fronts when a car came shooting around me at a high rate of speed, cut me off from parking, and the guy jumped out and RAN into the butcher. He was right in front of me, and bought 18 cases of New York strip steaks, just what I'd come in there for, besides some ground beef. He got the last of the steaks. I left with just the five pounds of hamburger. Having Ticos behave badly and push right in front of you to get to the front of the line is pretty typical behavior.
• The German Bakery - also a very bad idea to visit before lunch! Now I have a box of lemon cookies and way more raisin bread than we will ever eat but so so delicious. You know you go some place way too often when the lady behind the counter says "Un o dos pasa rollos?" (one or two raisin rolls?)
• Jim - He had to take a trip last week to the local clinic. His burned leg started to look infected, and he's been steadily showing up and having it scraped. I don't know why here in CR, but every single time I had mrsa on my toe, or he has scrapes and burns from the motorcycle accident the staff whips out the razor blades and starts scraping. It's painful and awful and not at all how we've both been treated in the States for the same conditions.  No pain killers given and he's misplaced his muscle relaxers. He's been in awful pain, he's been cranky as all get out, including issuing some complaints and solutions that are just plain old pain killer unbalanced. It finally dawned on him to just say no to the scraping. He's better and he's talking sense again. Which is good because he was making me lose mine.
• The car - time to buy another one. The Lying Baptist mechanic has completely screwed up the transmission of our car by claiming it was sensors, claiming to change them out and just creating a huge mess. It's drive-able but not by much. It's replace it or drop a ton of money into it with the licensed good mechanic. The money is not a problem, just the time and aggravation. Buying a car in Costa Rica comes with it's own set of weird problems involving the Tico Shuffle of trying to fleece a gringo.
• Bingo - walked away the big winner on Friday night, won a certificate from a wonderful clothing store I've already redeemed for a dress (high card prize), breakfast at the waffle joint, and two free pizzas, oh and  a massage. Go lucky me.  First time winning more than one prize.
• Finally figured out a mosaic design for the dining room table refinish and I should be buying the tiles by tomorrow. 
• Starting to think about and plan the kitchen remodel. Spoke with my favorite furniture store who'll be making and installing the cabinetry. Picking tile tomorrow. Will be removing the ugly stainless steel sink and going with a white farmhouse sink. Replacing all of the appliances.

But for now I am pretty content. All of these things will work out like they are supposed to in their time. I'm full as a tick, my cabinets and shelves are full, and tomorrow we should be doing a beach walk.

No Bueno

No internet, so not much posting. High winds have removed internet and tv at the house. It's that time of the year here.

Too bad because I have some things to say about bingo, Jim  and insanity. Without internet I wrote an enormous take down on one chapter of Debi Pearl's stupid book. The worst most horrible chapter. I am currently cybersquatting at Tamarindo's Eat at Joe's Nachos as Big as Your Ass loading the entire mess into NLQ.

Yesterday was a pretty good example of both debunking Debi and my stupid life right now Out on errands, and gave a guy named Jerry a ride home. Jerry has to be late 60s and he's clearly taken one too many acid trips in the 60s.

He spent the entire trip ranting about "Organic magnesium" which does not even exist because there is no carbon in it. He talked of only drinking water drilled beneath the sea, for some special "Keto" water, his plans to corner the medical marijuana market here and his belief that aliens created the junk food market. Oh holy you know what!

Surviving Pantless

How do I describe today? Pantless.

I've developed a crazy rash in an unmentionable place. I cannot wear underwear or pants comfortably. I've been pantless all week.

Found out its a new freakier food allergy reaction. Go me.

Which made tonight working at bingo most odd. Paranoid even. I wore a floor length skirt, but had to ditch the undies less than an hour after arriving. Thank whatever deities there be for not starting to scratch like mad in public.

More Devil's Tic Tacs  to calm this mess down.

A Googling They Went

Today was a cleaning day, mixed with a bit of laying about. Jim took our car back to the Baptist mechanic because of one of  his repairs is so poorly done the brake pad is rubbing the front wheel. I did not want to use this guy ever, but Jim insisted. Not only is he a lousy mechanic, he is a horrid gossip.

Jim went off with his friend, who is married to the gal with the yogurt name, to take care of some setup for tomorrow's bingo game. Jim  returned hours later, but he returned with disturbing  news, with gossip about the guy whose dog was recently eaten by the croc. They've  all Googled him, all the good little very conservatives, found a guy with the same name accused to shenanigans with prostitutes years ago.

I do not know if it's our guy, and quite frankly I do not care! His wife is long dead. He's quite nice.  It's his business whatever he does with his sexuality, which as far as I can tell involves denada. he's only here locally a few months of the year. He's not running around trying to molest children or hanging out at the local house of ill repute.

The rest of them are all twittering and gasping to not allow this guy around their daughters. If, big if, this was him it was over ten years ago, it was with an adult prostitute, not a child, it was one misdemeanor offense, and is a complete overreaction by this rather dumb crowd.

This is why I hate organized religion most of the time. This very dumb crap. Clearly none of them have enough real things to verkempt and whine over.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Around dinner time my kids called from the States. I confessed what a crappy horrible time I always had being a nurse when they were sick, how I just wanted it to be over and I prayed not to throw up myself. I was surprised to hear that neither of them ever picked up on that!  They were surprised to hear me say that because they thought I was marvelous at cleaning up puke, and monitoring fevers and colds.

You learn something new every day.

Winds and Sadness

The high winds continue. The day hasn't come this week or last when I haven't either seen a downed power line, driven over a downed power line or done without power for most of the day. Everything, and I mean everything in Costa Rica seems like it was put together in the most lazy slap-dash fashion, including things like the electrical grid. There are still places with uninsulated wires and with wires festooned precariously about.

Feeling rather dreadfully ill again as my blood pressure has tanked again, crazy ups and downs. Likely the stupid asthma.

But that is not the only things causing me to have a down day. Other people.

Found out my absolutely closest friend here is leaving. She and her husband are going back Stateside, having major relationship problems with money problems on top. Going back to try and save the marriage.

It's illustrative of one thing, bring plenty of moolah when you move to Costa Rica. There are mostly two different monetary classes of Americans here, the rich, and the not so rich deluded into thinking they'll make money here where they are forbidden to work.

Of the second class there falls my friend and her husband. They came down for positions in a new private school. First she had a falling out with the school administration and was canned. A few months later the same thing happened with the husband. I've watched them strain and scratch for money, with her promoting her art and her home decorating skills and the husband working as a youth pastor and martial arts instructor. Add in that their two properties in the States were trashed by renters, and the hassles of suing and remodeling and rerenting and you have enough pressure to topple the tightest bonds.

They are hardly the only couple like that I know. The family here that did reality television is running into some of the same monetary issues. The trainer guy from the boonies is finding he cannot work as a personal trainer because he is here on a tourist visa. One of the clonies cannot work as a hairdresser, and it finding selling MLM shakes is not cutting it. Another set of guys I know have set up some real estate MLM. One girl tried making and selling tacos at the night market.

The only non-riches/non-retirees I know here doing well work remotely online in positions they held in the States for a long time before coming here.

It's just common sense. You don't move somewhere you know no one, and you have only the sketchiest idea of how you'll pay your bills.Yes, certain things are cheaper here, but electricity, real estate, foods are the same and sometimes more than in the States. Cars cost easily double. Same with any type of electronics. The price of gasoline is double than in the States too. Clothing and just about any plastic or practical item must imported and are quite costly. Eating out is another bigger expense here, but only in the tourist and American places.

You don't really need a car here. Buses are cheap, plentiful and go everywhere you could imagine. When I bus to San Jose, a five hour car ride, it's 13 bucks, cheaper than the gas to drive it. We took the bus several times to Nicaragua from our temporary home in the Central Valley. Comfortable and cheap. Taxis are everywhere. We lived here the first five months entirely on foot, bus and taxi. It can be done.

Cheaper here are fresh fruits and veggies. Our cable and internet bill with the same speeds and all the same channels we got in America runs 30 bucks a month instead of the 130 bucks we paid Xfinity every month. Health care is cheaper. We're going to be about five hundred dollars before submitting to insurance Jim's recent motor pickle snafu, and that's with the clinic scraped, debriding and re bandaging every single day. Things are the bakery and the butcher are cheap. Locally made or grown is cheaper. I just bought locally grown grapes for the first time I've seen them and they were only two bucks a pound instead  of the usual 8 dollars a pound imported from the States. Our cell phones run about ten bucks a month each.

Hiring people to repair, build and clean is much cheaper than the States.

You just have to have some common sense, plan everything out and be realistic on how you'll support yourself when you get here. Those are exactly the kinds of things that can throw a huge monkey wrench in any marriage.

There really is no free lunch, at least not here.