Finding my best friend from grade 7 and debating whether to contact her

I don't write as much as I used to here. It's partly life. It's partly because I am not in an intimate relationship.

I have topics to write about. I haven't prioritized posting them.

I do have some news to share. It's good news. I'm just not sure if I should take the bold step and reach out, or let the past stay in the past.

In grade 7, I was best friends with a person. I'll call her Candy. She was awesome, except that she was teased whenever someone would tap her on the shoulder or give her a hug.

I don't think we ever hugged. I didn't want to trigger anything. I never asked why she was so sensitive. I figured it out in grade 8.

We were in extended French class. We had an exercise to reveal a secret by writing it on a piece of paper. It would then be placed in a jar. Each one of us would fish out an entry, read it, and figure out who it was.

Candy asked how to say abuse in French. It caught my attention. It also caught the attention of two of our classmates.

We reported it to our French teacher. She spent a lot of time talking to counsellors after she shared what had happened to her. Our friendship started to change, well into grades 9 and 10.

She became a feminist. She didn't like eating lunch with our usual friends in the cafeteria. She preferred to eat lunch in the washroom.

We used to walk up to school and home together. All that stopped.

She changed high schools. We drifted apart. We saw each other a couple of times in Toronto. Once was when we were in grade 12. The last time was when I was in my second year of undergraduate studies. We met in a store on Yonge Street. She called my name. I said hi. That was it.

I have thought about her often over the years. I'd try searching for her online. Nothing.

I gave it a try today. Somehow, my persistence worked. It also helped that she openly stated her birthday on her Web site, right down to the year. I looked at her birthmark on her forehead and immediately knew that it was her.

She is definitely more verbally articulate than she used to be. She is far more open about being abused and her past. I didn't realize that she automatically grew up in a cult and ran away from home shortly after she changed school.

She changed her last name after she ran away from home. It explains one reason why I had a tough time finding her.

I'd like to contact her and say hi. I don't know whether that's a good idea. The abuse that she endured happened while we were best friends. She couldn't tell me anything because her abusers threatened to kill her, which is understandable.

Part of me wants to because I care that she's alive and seems to be doing well. Part of me thinks that if I do reach out, I will be resurrecting the horrible abuse flashbacks that was happening. 

I would like to think that our friendship was maybe an escape from this abuse. I just don't know.

I will sit on it and think some more. I am happy that she's doing great. She seems healthy. She is an author and an artist. 

My mom chewing and spitting out her food

I keep seeing my mom change these days. Her memory is on the decline. She says hi to me multiple times within a five-minute span. She has incontinence issues and often doesn't know whether she needs to relieve herself.

As of late, I've noticed that she chews her food and spits it out. I don't know if she has now forgotten how to swallow or if she physically can't swallow solid food.

She is fine with drinking fluids. The worst case scenario would be to blend her foods and have her drink shakes.

She will chew fruit and spit it out. It's more textured foods that she doesn't seem to swallow.

It has been interesting. I can see how frustrated my dad is with her. It's a challenge to say the least.

Hairbrush incident at my local drugstore

It's a long weekend. Today is Victoria Day in Canada.

I had meant to do a trip to Winnipeg this long weekend. Due to my getting a head cold on Tuesday and saving some money, I made it a staycation. It's a longer long weekend for me.

On Thursday, I was feeling a bit better. My mom is having issues with incontinence these days. She is losing her memory, and doesn't seem to know when she needs to use the bathroom or where she should go. I decided to find some incontinence pads at a nearby drugstore.

When I got there, I cut through the hair accessories aisle to get to the incontinence section. There was a woman there. She took a brand new Goody hairbrush and proceeded to brush her hair with it.

One word: Ew!

I was congested and grossed out by what I had witnessed. I couldn't keep my thoughts to myself.

Me to the woman: Are you going to buy it?

Crickets. She decides to put it back on the hanger.

Me: You just used it. It's unsanitary and gross to put it back.

I walked away. I thought that I had felt good to come shop here. I didn't after seeing that move. Disgusting!

Now when I go to the hair accessories aisle, I'm not taking the first brush hanging there.

On the receiving end of road rage

Hello! It has been a while.

I recently when back to re-reading posts that I wrote years ago on another personal blog. I wrote about concerts. I wrote daily, similar to what I used to do here. I loved the level of detail that I had in each post.

I'd love to return and do the same thing here. It was inspiring. It was nice to read what I had written. I realized that I was a decent writer then.

This post is about a road rage incident that happened to me last Thursday.

I have so much to say about a company that I didn't expect to write about. If I could give this business zero stars on any business review platform, I would. The only positive aspect of my experience was talking to Eugene when I reported a disturbing road rage issue. Highlight Motor Group needs to highlight his excellent listening, reporting, and investigative skills. Otherwise, I have a tainted, disturbing impression of this company.

On Thursday, after work, I left work to head to Mississauga. I decided to take highway 401. Normally, I do the 407 heading there and backroad it home. Part of me regrets doing my norm.

I was in the express lanes. Avenue Road has construction and is down to two lanes. I needed to stay in the express lanes. I signalled, found a reasonable space to merge into the right lane.

The truck behind me took offence to my move and leaned on the horn for maybe five seconds. I waved to him, thanking him for letting me in. Another car did the same move as I did and was now between me and the truck.

What I didn't expect was this truck moving into the left lane. It ran parallel to my car. The guy in the passenger seat lowered his window and threw an object at my car door. The object looked like a full can of soda, but it was shorter height-wise and wider in the middle.

A friend recently told me that I'm an extremely calm person in crazy situations. I was definitely shocked when I heard the thud. My first thought was wow. My second thought was to document the situation. I'm a writer. I tell stories. This one is mine to own.

Road rage is real. It was my first time experiencing it at this escalated, physical level.

The two men in the truck are obviously not gifted intellectually. Do you think that you can throw a tantrum because you have no grace letting someone into a lane and get away with it? You're on the 401 at rush hour. You can't flee and not have me take photos of your truck, your freight number, and licence plate.

I took three photos. I called the toll-free number, and got the compliance and safety department. I talked to Eugene, who was a good listener and was understanding.

I took this photo seconds after the trailer in the left lane threw an object at my car

Trailer details

Third photo capturing licence plate details and more

He asked me what colour the truck was. At first, he thought it was a trailer and the truck may be leased to another company. That's when I said that it was indeed a truck and I could send him photos.

He wanted to give me his cell phone number. I said that I was driving. It would be best that he take my cell phone number and text me. This company has call display. He sent me a text. I sent him my photos. He confirmed that the truck was theirs.

He said that he would have the folks dispatched to get the scoop on what had happened. I appreciated it.

I let him know how I felt. Both men needed anger management help. No one is safe being on the same road with these men who are jerks. Why launch an object at a vehicle because you're immature, you don't know how to handle your emotions, and you can't be courteous on a highway? You are unprofessional and are unfit to drive on any road.

These men picked the wrong person to target their road rage. I am not afraid to report you. If I really wanted to seek legal counsel, I could. It's illegal to throw objects on any 400-series highway and cause mischief.

You targeted me. You didn't feel the same rage with the person behind me who made the same move. Why? Do you want me to pull the female, Asian card out? I could. You've proven to be dense with your stunt that it wouldn't surprise me that you're also biased and full of hate.

You both were cowards. You realized that you couldn't pull ahead quickly in time for me to get your truck information. You moved in front of the trailer in front of me after this detailed hit you. Too late.

You should have thought about the consequences of your actions. You're dealing with me. You tried to cause harm to me and my vehicle. You're in for an unpleasant ride.

Today, I followed up with Eugene. He let me know that the driver had a meeting and "we will come to a solution on how to best resolve the situation."

Texting with Eugene from the company's compliance and safety department

As long as this company doesn't sweep this incident under any rug. I'll be pleased. I truly want them to get help with their anger or get training on how to be respectful drivers. Their actions were unwarranted and need corrective action.

I read this company's reviews on Google. You get a mix of employees who give high praise. Reviews with five stars automatically get a response of thanks from the owner. It seems wrong to review your own employer. If you have a rating that isn't five stars, the owner doesn't acknowledge it.

One word: suspect.

There was one review in which a driver had both feet up on the dashboard, on an interstate, driving. There were photos. The owner never acknowledged the need to talk to this driver about how unsafe it was to drive this way.

I'd stay away from doing any business with this company. It's in your best interest to stay alive. If I spot any vehicle from Highlight Motor Company, I'm steering clear from it.

My mom and her memory

I haven't been writing a whole lot here. I don't think it's because I have nothing to write about or that I'm lazy.

I haven't felt the need to write anything just yet.

It's likely because I'm still processing things. Trying to come to grips with my mom's memory loss is one of them.

She often opens and closes the front door. She'll bolt the door with the security chain lock without remembering that either my dad or I are about to return to the house. It's weird.

She will also open and close the washroom door on the main floor. It's a bit difficult to tell whether she needs to use the washroom and forgets to walk through the door, or if it's the same habit that she has with the front door.

Last Monday, she fell down in the washroom. My dad and I had to help get her off the floor. Thankfully, she doesn't fall down often. When she does, it's a bit scary. Luckily, she was fine.

October panties in November

Hello! I hope that you are well.

To those celebrating Thanksgiving across the border, I hope that it was enjoyable and memorable.

Canadians celebrated in October. I managed to make a Thanksgiving meal (a past post) for my parents and me between two trips. I was pleased because we didn't have a lot of leftovers left over.

I had meant to post my October panties that I got in the mail. Things got a bit busy. I ended up flying stateside twice. 

I am not travelling for a bit, so I can attempt catch up with my posts here.

Here's are the lacy panties that I got.

 The front: 

 

The back:

The colour scheme screams Halloween. They are comfy and nice.

Blown, shredded, flat tire

The good news is that I'm blogging more. I'm not great blogging once a week, though. We'll see if I get better at it.

Last Wednesday, I was going into the office in the morning. I was briefly on a toll highway and my drive sounded odd. Sure enough, I felt that one of my passenger tires wasn't normal and finally exited using the next offramp. I immediately pulled off to a wide shoulder. I looked at my passenger front tire. It was shredded.

My car doesn't come with a spare tire. It's new, so you have no choice but to get a tow truck.

I called roadside assistance. I got a technician dispatched from a towing company. I looked at the link that I got in a text message. It was based in Oshawa, but had my city after its name. Weird. It's roughly an hour away.

I got an ETA of a maximum wait time of 90 minutes. Well, it was more like two hours.

This guy seemed to take his sweet time getting to me. He didn't have any calls. He called me four times. Excessive? Yes.

The first time was fine. I described my location. It was the same as what I had described to the roadside assistance agent. He would have had notes.

I was parked safely on the shoulder of the westbound exit ramp. It's not difficult. There's one offramp westbound. There's one toll highway. There's one street in my city with this name.

Nope, not for this guy. I could tell that he didn't like that I was on a toll highway. He said that he'd charge me $15 for hitting it. I'm covered by roadside assistance. Deal with them, not me.

He then said that I should contact 407 ETR, the toll highway, as they have roadside help and may get there faster than he would. Interesting. He said that he would send me a link. I never got it.

The second call came from him. He asked if I got a hold of 407 ETR. I said that I was waiting for his text message. I got nothing. He finally sent it.

I got a hold of someone at 407 ETR. The woman dispatched a technician.

I got a third call from this technician. He was now in Pickering. Yep, he was taking his time. I let him know that the 407 technician was coming. I didn't have an estimated time. He then asked me whether I could move out of the 407. I said that it was original plan, but I heard metal to the ground and pulled over immediately.

It was clear that this jerk did not want to help me because I was on the 407. Toll fees. He didn't want the extra charges, likely because he didn't have a transponder or want to incur these fees.

This guy called me a fourth time. He asked me how many feet away from the major street I was located. I lost it. He claimed that he was new to the area and needed more details. I say that he was a jerk heavily dependent on technology and reluctant to help me out. He seemed to be stalling.

He actually made me share my location with him through Google Maps. I hated it. It showed sheer incompetence. I had to switch my settings to sharing my location all the time. I told him so. He hung up on me.

Jerk.

What if I didn't have a data plan? You would need to rely on clear location details, like you should have in my case.

You know what's crazy? He never said his name to me. I now know why. He's a horrible technician.

407 ETR had a technician get to me. He was great. He was there to make sure I was safe and waited for this AA Roadside guy to arrive.

We talked. I told him that I've been waiting for 1.5 hours at this stage for this technician. This ETR man drove from the west end to get to me. He also said that he had no difficulties finding me.

So, the jerk arrived in a Subaru Impreza. What? No tow truck? Such a waste of time. I had to call roadside assistance yet again, but to dispatch a tow truck. I also shared my sentiments about this jerk. I look forward to the survey. It's a form of therapy.

The ETR technician waited with me for the tow truck from another company to arrive. He even had pylons set up around my car. That's the level of service and safety that I was expecting from this jerk.

The time that it took the second towing company to get to me after getting word that I needed a technician? Fifteen minutes. 

After the jerk left, the 407 technician said to me, "He did nothing." He was right, except that he wasted my time and a bit of this 407 technician's time.

The good news is that my car has a new tire and I have wheels again.