Here’s why you need a sister.

When you start thinkin’ and thinkin’ and you work yourself up in into a state of panic, she tells you why you don’t have to worry.

That was probably more of a tweet so I’ll have to fill this post up with a bunch of crap.

Two good things happened to me already today.

1. I woke up all gloomy because I have to pay my bills today, this being the first of the month. After putting them in piles and throwing away the junk mail I realized that today is the 30th so I don’t have to pay them until tomorrow. AND I ALREADY HAVE A LEG UP.

2. I got a threatening letter from IDT for non  payment of a bill and I called them up and said I had cancelled the service a month ago.

The lady said she would listen to my cancellation call and call me back. SHE CALLED ME BACK AND SAID I WAS RIGHT.

Things may be going my way today.

I think I should buy a lottery ticket. Then I could get anything I want.

I wonder how much a hit man costs?

I just did something so freudian.

I was writing to my lawyer and I signed the letter,

Best,

Married

Instead of Mattie.

Obviously I caught it but man it gave me chills.

Also don’t know why I insist on telling jokes to my lawyer. Maybe it’s because I want to seem like more of a person to her. I don’t think it’s working though.

When I do it in person she just looks at me blankly. In this letter I told her that I was having nightmares that dave was coming in and stealing the checkbooks. I added that that’s probably the jewish version of the train going through a tunnel.

I can just imagine that steely stare.

Now why was I writing to her?

Funnily it had something to do with Julie’s reading last night. I met a funny, lovely woman who reads my blog. I liked her so much that if she lived near me I’d want her for a friend. Don’t be scared, Debbi, you’re safe. You live way far away.

We were talking about my situation and later when I thought about it I didn’t like the way I came off. Like a wishy washy noodle.

I kept saying that I felt protective of dave and I didn’t want to hurt him.

The truth is I do want to hurt him. I know I said I didn’t want to talk about my dreams but last night I dreamt that I was on vacation and dave was there and he was sleeping with all my friends and stealing my checkbooks.

In my dream I was beating him to a pulp and I only woke up when my sister called.

Because I’m worried about not having enough money after the divorce I’ve been putting this off but I realize that until I put him out of my life I can’t get him out of my dreams.

I had an epiphany again yesterday.

A friend suggested starting a little business. In my head my immediate reaction was “Don’t be silly. I can’t do that”.

I was wondering why I went there.

One reason is I’ve considered dave and me in the throws of retirement.

Of course I wasn’t actually planning to retire because even with the divorce I’d still be part of the corporation and taking care of the details of his career.

I explain that because his being a free lance worker the only way I’d know what he’s earning is if I handle it.

Now that I’m seeing how he’s handling his money when I’m not in control of it I’m actually worried about him.

I digress.

Back to my epiphany.

Maybe if dave hadn’t dumped me I’d be moving towards retiring but that was my old life.

My new life is starting and I can do whatever I want with it.

I never thought I could write but I’m doing it every day and loving it.

If a business opportunity comes up that interests me, as long as it doesn’t take money I can try it if I want to. And even if it takes money. I may be able to get a loan or a grant or something for being a woman, a senior citizen and a loser.

There’s a whole bunch of things I can try if I want to.

If only I wasn’t so scared.

I thought David might be going crazy. That’s Liz’s David as you can tell by the capital “D”.

This morning I opened my door to get the NY Times and there was a bagel on my paper. I knew it wasn’t from Liz because she left really early to go to be interviewed by NY1 for her Holiday Market at Union Square.

It had to be from David.

Now he knows I use any excuse to go running over there to “share the morning” as I like to say.

Usually he looks up, frowns and goes back to reading his paper as I walk in (he uses the term “bust in” but I don’t let it bother me).

But this bagel was like an engraved invitation written in calligraphy.

He even turned off the news at my entrance.

It wasn’t long before I realized  why he was so welcoming.

The cold weather had killed all the flies so he had no wings to pull off.

After the usual morning chit chat he proceeded to tell me how with dave spending all this money I might be in a pickle when the divorce comes through.

It will be extremely difficult to afford two households and I’d better start thinking about that.

When he got divorced he had to sell his house  which gave him a bunch of cash but it was still hard to support his ex wife’s life and his and his son’s.

I was dying to find out what he got for his house. He refused to tell me. He simply said  “It was wayyyy more than I paid for it”.

“What did you pay for it?” He shook his head.

I know what you’re thinking. “What kind  of person asks people about their finances?”

I’ll tell you what kind of person. My kind.

Liz always explains to any of her guests that just because I ask them questions they shouldn’t feel they have to answer.

I remember shortly after I met Miss Liz (my little nieces call her that), truly the waspiest person I’ve ever known, she was at my house for dinner and a friend showed me a necklace she had just gotten.

I said “What’d that set you back?”

I thought Liz would faint dead away.

And her shock was doubled when my friend answered.

Any mention of money puts Miss Liz in a swoon.

Jeez how are you supposed to know if you want to buy one too if you don’t know what it costs?

And how am I supposed to know if down the line I want to hit David for a loan if I don’t know how much money he has?

He knows to the penny what I have.

Stephanie and her husband, Terry,  are with Terry’s family on some Caribbean island for the holiday. This morning I got an email from her saying:

“Those blogs are heartbreaking Mattie.  I don’t even know what I can say although the sooner you can forget his name, the better…”

Today is Thanksgiving.

I was worried that dave wouldn’t remember me on the holiday.

How silly of me. We were together for 45 years and never spent a Thanksgiving apart.

I was so pleased to see that he sent an email to me this morning .

Unfortunately it said:

” i’m going to need some more money. i guess $15,000 will handle it for a while. do you need me to send you an iou by email?”

$15,000? $15,000???  For awhile????

What on earth is he spending all this money on? He must be supporting slutface’s whole family.

I guess that we’re lucky that I handled the money all these years.

I’m getting ready for Thanksgiving.

My yearly Thanksgiving joke is that to commemorate the Indians that “welcomed” the Pilgrims I always serve indian food.

Since I’m the most centrally located my whole family gathers here  for most holidays.

To my never ending delight Brian and Cheryl and their 2 girls always stay here. This year my sister and brother in law are sleeping over too. My house is full of people I love so I shouldn’t be lonely.

How come I am?

Actually this morning I woke up thinking this was  the first time since dave left that I had a good dream.

I was sitting at the dining room table. Liz was over playing “Words withIdiots” as she likes to say. Sadie and Lily were playing with their computers, Brian was trying on a new outfit to see if we thought he looked as fabulous as he thought he did (he was right), their dog Burt was staring at me to make sure that if I wanted to give out treats he was right there to receive them and Rupert was shredding tissues under the table just because.

All of a sudden I felt a wave of loneliness float over me.

I was trying to figure out why. Although dave always looked forward to hosting these holidays he did little to help. In fact waking him up in time was always a trial.

Maybe it’s because I got a call from American Express for him. It was about his personal card and since I’m not handling payment it could be that he’s late. In either event they wouldn’t talk to me about it so I just emailed him to call them.

I wonder if he even remembers that it’s Thanksgiving.

Usually when I sit down to write my blog it’s because I have a something specific to say. I’m not sure that’s the case today. I just have fleeting thoughts that I want to write about or as my sister, Phyllis used to say “Throw something up the flagpole and see what sticks”. It seemed to make sense when she said it.

My nephew Eric, I still call him that even though his name has been Yitzhak for over 35 years, just went back to Israel.

It was a really good visit and in his email on his return he said that he just realized that when he spoke to his children about his trip he kept referring to my house as home.

I really felt good about that. The other kids seem more comfortable coming to stay too. I’m wondering if the absence of dave has something to do with that.

he was more than welcoming so it could be something as simple as now there is a guest room.

dave walked around all night talking to Japan and writing music and at about 3 a.m. he would make himself eggs or something to eat. When people are sleeping in the living room that can be disturbing.

But I’d like to think it’s because they feel so close to me that there are no eggshells to walk on.

There’s something else I’ve been thinking of.  dave is coming back to New York in January. The months are passing quickly. It seems like he only left a little while ago.

Again I say I don’t want him back but I wish I’d look much better when he returns so he’ll feel a little bad about leaving me.

I’d like to be skinnier. I wish I had the nerve and money to get a face lift.

Who am I kidding?  The time will pass and he’ll come back to the same old me.

Something happened last night and I can’t figure out why I found it unsettling.

I was at Liz’s house when David mentioned that he ran into our neighbor from upstairs in the elevator. She’s a lovely woman with a very nice husband and 2 small children. They live right above me.

Her kids really like me because I always tell them they can make as much noise as they want when their mother tells them they have to be quiet  out of consideration for me.

I always felt that if you insist on quiet you should live in the suburbs.

Anyway David said that she mentioned that she hadn’t seen him and Liz or me and dave in awhile.

He said “dave? He ran away with another woman to Japan.”

If there’s an offensive way to say something David can hone onto it in a second.

He said she was really shocked and then she said something strange, “Were they married?”

Liz and I gave each other puzzled looks.

The only thing I can figure is that since she knew dave was a musician (she had asked me if he’d make a demo for her because she liked to sing), she thought we were hippies or something.

I don’t know what bothered me so much about this.

Was it David’s stupid way of depicting my situation? How can you be mad at a frog for being a frog?

Was it my neighbor’s thinking that I wasn’t married?

Was it just one more of those boxes that I keep in my head that burst open without my being ready for it?

Whatever it was I took a tranquilizer before I went to sleep and slept like a baby. A married baby.

Today I went to visit my sister Phyllis.

She’s buried in a cemetery in Valhalla. I went with 3 of her 4 sons. We stood over her grave and tried to connect that flat hard stone with the woman who was always laughing and making us laugh. She was beautiful until the day she died. (If she’s reading this she’ll be glad I wrote that.)

Even though I put a stone of remembrance on her grave and said a few words to her I really couldn’t feel her presence.

The funny part is that I feel her with me all the time. But there, nada.

Instead I kept thinking about something the cemetery does. It brags.

When you walk into the building there is a glass case with a display of mementos from some of the famous people that are buried there.

In the back of the case there’s a Danny Kaye video. Pretty close to the front there’s a bottle of Knickerbocker beer to represent Jacob Rupert who owned that beer company and incidentally the Yankees.

My nephew Jim was pretty puzzled that front and center was a big metal blade for an electric hand saw. We couldn’t quite figure out what connection that had to the person buried there. And after all, Danny Kaye was way more famous and deserved that prime space. Or so we thought.

Now here’s the mystery. Above the case was a map of the cemetery. We looked at the map and several graves were highlighted. They had Ayn Rand, Tommy Dorsey, Ann Bancroft and Lou Gehrig!

They had no baseball symbolizing Lou Gehrig yet they put a saw blade and a bottle of beer in their case. No video from “The Graduate” and no copy of  “The Fountainhead”.

This was the shittiest excuse for a brag that I’ve ever seen.