The Drivel Thread

God bless Light Housework for relentlessly being nothing but herself and for the courage she displays here and, from what I gather, also in real life. I hope God frees her from all aspects of ill health, be it physically or spiritually.

And to her and everyone else, a blessed Holy Thursday!
 
I went to pick up the 5 prints I had made of my artwork, and one of them looks a bit faded, but generally I’m pleased with them. I framed them in dollar store frames to keep the price down for people with low incomes, at the November showing I’m aiming to have. I passed through the downtown eastside on the bus, and can’t imagine lying on the cold concrete like some people seem to have no better option but to do. I don’t think there is anything tangible I can do to help them, that would have any traction, at least at this point in my life. The sixty year mark. So far today my lung has felt okay, and it’s just going on 2PM. I’m enjoying spending time alone today, though I know it would be even better spent in Morrissey’s presence, here in my dusty apartment. I really do want to clean it, and I expect I will, very soon. The bathtub’s fresh cleanliness will be my shining example. I’m not going to the restaurant today. I think my latest affair with it has finally died down, and I will not be spending $20 a day there anymore. Tomorrow is Good Friday, and so I won’t be seeing a mental health worker, and my last appointment, the worker called in sick, so I’ve been enjoying my time alone a lot, and Easter Monday will be another holiday they will be taking, so it’ll be a whole week I’m not seeing a mental health worker, and I’m up for it, as I’ve never been more integrally mentally grounded. I think Morrissey doesn’t like the word ‘sane’, but I think I’ve never been saner. I hope as usual, Morrissey, to spend quality time with you, preferably at least some of it alone with you. Maybe my apartment will be clean soon, and I know you’d like it here, with the ever evolving art displaying walls with many portraits of you on them, and you could even sit in my olive green corduroy recliner, to see the art covered wall I’ve been looking at day after day, facing the recliner, all portraits of you. I can hear the car tires splashing through the puddles outside. I guess it’s raining. At any rate, I’m not in the mood to go walking, though my body could use the exercise. I hope to tomorrow, and will as I always do, hope Morrissey, that you will crash into my arms. I think we both deserve it. People will be sure I flatter myself by saying that, but I know that you feel differently, because you’ve tried to be with me several times, sung out my name 11 times, and shouted my nicknames too, quite a few times, and showing up on Valentine’s Eve morning, was very telling too, so I’m convinced you haven’t forsaken me and will come into my arms quite soon. I need you, to help me create the memory of physically, mutually loving you, to have that in my blood. I don’t know if my blood is Irish, Scottish, or what. I was adopted and can only guess. I faintly wonder now, what my genetic heritage is. I wonder if I have any relatives I would be glad to have connected with. I know someone who did the DNA test and found his biological family. They’ve been milking him dry of favours and I don’t know if he’s glad he hooked up with them or whether he regrets having taken the test. My guess is that I would be glad to find my relatives. Maybe I’ll take the test. It’d be a blast, maybe, for me and a piece of the puzzle for them.
 
I went to pick up the 5 prints I had made of my artwork, and one of them looks a bit faded, but generally I’m pleased with them. I framed them in dollar store frames to keep the price down for people with low incomes, at the November showing I’m aiming to have. I passed through the downtown eastside on the bus, and can’t imagine lying on the cold concrete like some people seem to have no better option but to do. I don’t think there is anything tangible I can do to help them, that would have any traction, at least at this point in my life. The sixty year mark. So far today my lung has felt okay, and it’s just going on 2PM. I’m enjoying spending time alone today, though I know it would be even better spent in Morrissey’s presence, here in my dusty apartment. I really do want to clean it, and I expect I will, very soon. The bathtub’s fresh cleanliness will be my shining example. I’m not going to the restaurant today. I think my latest affair with it has finally died down, and I will not be spending $20 a day there anymore. Tomorrow is Good Friday, and so I won’t be seeing a mental health worker, and my last appointment, the worker called in sick, so I’ve been enjoying my time alone a lot, and Easter Monday will be another holiday they will be taking, so it’ll be a whole week I’m not seeing a mental health worker, and I’m up for it, as I’ve never been more integrally mentally grounded. I think Morrissey doesn’t like the word ‘sane’, but I think I’ve never been saner. I hope as usual, Morrissey, to spend quality time with you, preferably at least some of it alone with you. Maybe my apartment will be clean soon, and I know you’d like it here, with the ever evolving art displaying walls with many portraits of you on them, and you could even sit in my olive green corduroy recliner, to see the art covered wall I’ve been looking at day after day, facing the recliner, all portraits of you. I can hear the car tires splashing through the puddles outside. I guess it’s raining. At any rate, I’m not in the mood to go walking, though my body could use the exercise. I hope to tomorrow, and will as I always do, hope Morrissey, that you will crash into my arms. I think we both deserve it. People will be sure I flatter myself by saying that, but I know that you feel differently, because you’ve tried to be with me several times, sung out my name 11 times, and shouted my nicknames too, quite a few times, and showing up on Valentine’s Eve morning, was very telling too, so I’m convinced you haven’t forsaken me and will come into my arms quite soon. I need you, to help me create the memory of physically, mutually loving you, to have that in my blood. I don’t know if my blood is Irish, Scottish, or what. I was adopted and can only guess. I faintly wonder now, what my genetic heritage is. I wonder if I have any relatives I would be glad to have connected with. I know someone who did the DNA test and found his biological family. They’ve been milking him dry of favours and I don’t know if he’s glad he hooked up with them or whether he regrets having taken the test. My guess is that I would be glad to find my relatives. Maybe I’ll take the test. It’d be a blast, maybe, for me and a piece of the puzzle for them

I'm not adopted, and submitted my DNA 18 months ago. No long lost relatives have contacted me, and the one I contacted seemed not to know or want to know much about his history. Would you be able to separate the steps as 1) where you find out your ethnicity and see who shares DNA with you and 2) deciding whether to contact any of those with whom you share DNA?
 
I'm not adopted, and submitted my DNA 18 months ago. No long lost relatives have contacted me, and the one I contacted seemed not to know or want to know much about his history. Would you be able to separate the steps as 1) where you find out your ethnicity and see who shares DNA with you and 2) deciding whether to contact any of those with whom you share DNA?
I don’t know. I just texted an old friend to ask him how he did it. He’ll maybe give me some pointers about it.
 
I don’t know. I just texted an old friend to ask him how he did it. He’ll maybe give me some pointers about it.
I had to submit my DNA by spit, but in order to see if I had any shared DNA I had to sign up for one of the family/ancestor sites, that is pay for a subscription. I got thousands of distant matches. I haven't learned anything after 18 months. It just confirms what I already knew. It may be different for you if you are starting from not knowing any family. All the best, whatever you decide. I know adopted people who found distant relatives but not close enough to explain their history. But it would be a start, and people only contact you through the site, (on the one I joined, anyway), not to your personal email.
 
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I had to submit my DNA by spit, but in order to see if I had any shared DNA I had to sign up for one of the family/ancestor sites, that is pay for a subscription. I got thousands of distant matches.
Wow. I’m hoping for just a handful of not too distant matches. I don’t know if my old friend still uses the same phone number I have.
 
I had to submit my DNA by spit, but in order to see if I had any shared DNA I had to sign up for one of the family/ancestor sites, that is pay for a subscription. I got thousands of distant matches.
Wow. I’m hoping for just a handful of not too distant matches. I don’t know if my old friend still uses the same phone number I have.
It confirmed every relative I knew who was on, so it does seem to be accurate. It gives you a range of how people may be related and gets to 6th to 8th cousin. But like I say, the distant relative i contacted took his time to reply and didn't seem interested or knowledgeable about his family. I suppose you have to consider potential disappointment as well.
 
It confirmed every relative I knew who was on, so it does seem to be accurate. It gives you a range of how people may be related and gets to 6th to 8th cousin. But like I say, the distant relative i contacted took his time to reply and didn't seem interested or knowledgeable about his family. I suppose you have to consider potential disappointment as well.
Yes, I’ve got mixed feelings about the possibility of taking the test etc. It could be interesting seeing photos of my biological parents and hearing stories about them...
 
Yes, I’ve got mixed feelings about the possibility of taking the test etc. It could be interesting seeing photos of my biological parents and hearing stories about them...
Yes, as there could be many steps between taking the test and then finding out what you want to know. And being prepared for disappointment. But you don't have to decide immediately anyway. Not on a Bank Holiday weekend!
 
Tags
anxiety bloody awful poetry testing the waters trying to feel good in your own skin trying to make friends wanting to alleviate anxiety wanting to feel safe to be honest wanting to have integrity
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