Music Heals

I didn’t intend to play my bass last evening. Something made me sit down anyway. I played both of my Ibanez five string basses. The green one is full size and the black one is a short scale. I’ve been playing the short scale for so long I actually found the bigger bass difficult to play. It hurt my hands.

I love playing. Even though I felt bad in general yesterday making music lifted my mood and helped me forget my wonky stomach. I felt better afterwards.

Learning to play changed my life, and regular playing continues to improve my days.

Age and Its Privileges


Substitute the word “cats” for the word “liquor” (I don’t drink) in this meme, and you have me in a nutshell.

I reached that certain age and I found I no longer cared what people thought of me. I don’t dress to please anyone but myself. I wear what’s comfortable, and I don’t wear makeup. I am comfortable in my own skin, and I like who I am. I put myself first. I do what pleases me. I don’t want drama. I don’t want to fight, but I won’t back down if pushed.

Yes, I like the woman I’ve become. I wish I’d let this version of me out forty years ago.

I Prefer My Cats

Weird day. Stressful social anxiety day for me and for Meg. Third day in a row with strangers in our house (working on replacing the electric panel, installing a whole house generator, and getting it working). That’s too much “peopling” for me. I had gut troubles all day. Meg had literally disappeared. I didn’t see her all day. She wanted no part of me shutting her upstairs again or of the loud noise producing strangers.

We had a vet nail appointment scheduled for tomorrow. I put that off until next week. She doesn’t need the additional stress (she hates going into the carrier and to the vet). I need a day away from strangers, too.

Sweet, shy (former feral) Meggie

It was a bizarre day online. Work was busy, and that was okay. And another weirdo popped up on Mastodon. The nutjobs tend to post that they’re new (usually migrating from Twitter) and need help figuring things out. They find women to chat up.

There was a man a couple of months ago that another female user and I tried to help, believing that perhaps he really did need help. She ended up messaging me privately and cautioned me not to talk to him because he had gotten inappropriate with her. I had already blocked him by that point because he gave me the willies.

I usually don’t respond to people who follow me and have zero posts on their own timeline. I took a chance on someone yesterday because they seemed genuine. I offered some general hints and that was all it took. At first I wasn’t sure if it was a man or a woman, but then he said his name was Timothy but I could call him Tim. Then he became a pest. He kept sending me message after message while I was working. I ignored them all. Where are you from? What do you do? How is the weather? Then he started calling me “my lady”. Sorry – I am no one’s lady but my own. He acted confused when I stopped responding.

I did some research. He still doesn’t have any posts. I looked at the people who are following him and he has nine female followers. He is following 85 people and they ALL seem to be women. NO MEN. Big red flag. And what’s creepier still? He focuses on particular names. Multiple Donna’s, Maureen’s, Anne’s, Karen’s, and Kathy’s (all “older” names). He seems to be targeting a particular age group. Maybe he gains the trust of older women and then scams them out of money. He was way too weird for me. I blocked him. He might have been legit, but I find I truly don’t care if I hurt his feelings.

I’m not a people person in general. I suffer from social anxiety. I used to believe most people were good with a few rejects here and there. I’m not so certain anymore. The creeps seem to come out in force online. It’s easy to be an obnoxious ass or a creepy jerk when you can hide behind a keyboard. I’ve certainly seen my share of it.

I’m done with people for the day.


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