Carry on Jazz

If you can’t be decent to me, you can’t be near me. I hold my comrades to that minimum level of behavior. Beyond that I’ve been entertained by an array of craziness; sometimes not so entertained.

When someone, who knows your weaknesses, strikes in that tender zone, they intend to hurt, which in my book makes it malicious. I could tell how it made me feel, be clear about the pain caused, question why you wanted to hurt me, but maliciously causing pain isn’t an oops; it’s a scary character flaw which  repeats the behavior loop.

Being separated from the person you spend the most time with and have a ton of fun is not an easy thing to do; a surgical approach avoids an ample amount of drama. I hate how loud people get, myself included.

We haven’t spoken since the incident. The only contact, a text:

Are you mad at me?

Reply: Yes.

It seems this is the type of drama where in each side plays out a list of grievances or worse yet, say things in a competition to hurt the most. Oh, goodie, I think I’ll pass. Perhaps we’ve simply had enough of each other. Goodbye. 

We spent a considerable amount of time together each week, so the first felt like withdrawal. Wednesdays were fun; that’s pretty much why I didn’t understand her behavior on Thursday, but anyway the test of my readiness to be alone comes next week, big time.

I may be crazy; this may be too much for a senior lady alone, but the music calls. The Dominican Jazz Fest begins in the capital city, Santo Domingo; my hotel is a ten minute walk to the venue. What’s the best way to return to the hotel at the end of the evening?

Alone, I’ll miss the “what shall we do” discussion, but this is a bucket list trip. It’s on!

After a night of jazz in the Colonial Zone on the south coast, I’ll drive across the island ending up in Cabarete. Each night a different view, I thought it a ballsy trip for two senior ladies. I didn’t plan to do this trip alone; that’s a real adventure. Yikes!!

Let’s be real; I’m a fat old lady, alone. Of course, I’m scared. Many times I felt afraid when I first came to Puerto Rico. The fear I owned; across this island people have been kind, so when I went to the Dominican Republic, I felt comfortable, and a large contingency of police to protect the tourists made me feel safe.

Alone, this trip is scary for me, but listening to good music takes me to a happy place. I’m going. Please, pray for me.