Category Relationships

Love Bombers

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I was tricked by a lovebomber in March, and am still stunned by how quickly the so-called relationship advanced, how much of a textbook lovebomber the guy turned out to be, and how I felt like a complete fool at the end of the whole process. I am so enraged by what happened that I felt the need to warn other women about this type of man, and RUN IN THE OTHER DIRECTION.

Physically speaking, Ted wasn’t the type of man I would usually go for. He was very slender, had very long hair halfway down his back (not my thing at all), and was unusual looking. I dug the fact that he was half Japanese though, because as a half-Japanese woman, I have found that I relate so well to other half-Japanese people, and was even engaged to a half-Japanese man many years ago. As soon as Ted found out that I was half-Japanese, he highlighted that fact, and even told me that he had gotten a sign some years ago that the love of his life would be half-Japanese and would have a name that started with an S. I now believe that he made that up to pull me in emotionally.

I was also concerned about his checkered past, but as soon as we started chatting on the dating app that fateful Monday, I felt so much at ease with him that it honestly didn’t matter. Our first phone call the following night lasted 7 hours, then on Wednesday night we had another 7-hour phone conversation. We made plans to meet for dinner in my part of town on Thursday night, and he took care of selecting a restaurant, stating “you’re so busy and I want to make sure that I always help you out” which I mistakenly thought was a sweet gesture. As it turned out, someone hit his car when he was en route to my place and totaled his car, but since his car was still driveable, he continued to head to my place. He did ask me if we could take my car, to which I agreed without hesitation.

When Ted showed up at my door, I honestly felt like I was a participant in the show Love Is Blind, because though we had connected so beautifully on the phone, his appearance left a bit to be desired. He wore a surf pullover and jeans, not exactly appropriate for a night out on the town. He also had a disheveled appearance, but I shrugged it off. I drove us to the restaurant, a small sushi bar in my area, and we had such a fantastic time chatting and eating there that we agreed to continue the evening at my home by listening to music and talking. Our late night chat progressed into an overnight visit.

The next morning, we just kept talking until about 11 am, without a care in the world. Ted stated that despite the fact that he would have to call the insurance company about his car, and also arrange to have his other car fixed so that he could drive it, he didn’t want to leave. So I ordered lunch to be delivered, which he insisted on paying for. We continued talking for several hours, so I ordered dinner to be delivered, which he also paid for. Ted didn’t leave my place until about midnight that Friday. Ted told me on Friday that he already deleted the dating app, and I happily followed suit.

Since Ted was about to start an intense new job the following week, and also since he had car issues, that meant that we would have to rely on phone calls and texts, as well as me visiting him. He called me that Saturday, and we had a 6-hour phone call, during which he told me he loved me, and I swooned, returning the sentiment to him. What a whirlwind the whole experience was! I made arrangements to go to his place on Sunday, and told him I would cook for him, especially since he revealed to me that no woman had ever cooked for him. I lugged all the spices and other ingredients we needed for dinner to his place and cooked dinner, then stayed over that night. I made enough food to get him through his first week at the new job. The following morning, I took him to his new place of employment.

The second week with Ted was a bit rough, because he was forced to work a grueling schedule which included a 2:30 pm to 1:00 am shift that started on Wednesday. But by that time, I was so blinded by love that I was willing to do anything to help him out.

Skipping ahead to the second Saturday with Ted in my life, I was suddenly met with a cold shoulder. I was yet again supposed to go to his place to cook dinner as well as food for him for the following week, and we had agreed that it would be a good idea for me to come by around 11 am so that we could maximize our weekend time together. I was running behind, so I texted him to let him know. No response. I texted him around 12:15 pm to let him know I was on the road, and got a text from him saying that he had forgotten that he had a funeral to attend (he had mentioned this several days before, but we both forgot about it), that he had forgotten about it, but that I could still come over because he had given me a key to his place. I stated that I had stuff to do at home, and that I would prefer to wait until he got home after the funeral. Despite the fact that I was a bit miffed about the fact that he couldn’t text me or call me to let me know that he realized that he had to go to the funeral, I attributed it to him being sleep-deprived.

When I finally arrived at his place that Saturday evening, he was oddly distant, and when I asked if he was all right, he said that he was sad because of the funeral. However, he didn’t touch me, and when I touched him, he almost recoiled. Since I had so much food to prepare, I set about cooking everything while he blabbed about his day. The evening progressed nicely, but he was still a bit off. The next morning, as I was leaving, I asked him if he wanted to talk that night, to which he replied, “Oh yes, babe, absolutely”, and kissed me goodbye.

Ted then proceeded to ghost me. I didn’t hear a peep from him all day Sunday, and when I saw the next morning that he was active on Instagram, I became extremely irritated. I texted him, asking what was going on. His response was to dump me, stating that he wouldn’t be ready for a relationship for a while, and that he hoped that I would find what I was looking for in a relationship. Just like that, he was done with me.

Ladies, you have to be careful with these lovebombers! They will promise you the moon and stars, then pull the rug out from under you. I feel like such a fool, and now my radar is sharpened so that I never fall victim to that nonsense ever again.

Banana Kiss

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image: massonforstock

I’m willing to bet that most of you who are reading this blog post remember your first romantic kiss in decent detail, so I hope this inspires you to think about that special moment in your life. You might be wondering why I gave this blog post the title it is sporting, but after I share the story of my first romantic kiss, you’ll understand why. My first real smooch with a boy was indeed memorable!

During the summer when I turned 12, I would spend alternate weekends at my dad’s apartment, and I would often bring my close friend Dana with me. My dad had moved into a new apartment complex, so I had many opportunities to meet kids who were close to my age, but one boy caught my eye. His name was Mark, he had a crop of wavy sandy brown hair, piercing blue eyes, a charming smile, and he was 16 years old. Mark and I took a liking to each other immediately, and he got into the habit of coming over to my dad’s apartment with his acoustic guitar and serenading me, which obviously had me swooning. 

One afternoon, Mark sauntered over to my dad’s place, eating a banana. When he saw me walking towards him, he stopped eating, smiled, and asked me if he could come inside and hang out with me. Since my dad was at his office and wouldn’t be home for a while, I knew we would at least have some privacy, so I said sure. Mark walked into the living room and sat down on the sofa, then patted the spot next to him, encouraging me to sit there. I sat down, then Mark gently moved me so that my head was in his lap, then he leaned down and kissed me. The taste of banana was a bit strange, but the kiss was as great as a first kiss could be, even though I didn’t exactly know what to do. I figured if I mimicked what Mark was doing with his lips and tongue, that I’d be just fine. 

After that first kiss, we spent a lot of time kissing and hanging out together, and Mark would regularly serenade me while sitting out on the steps in front of Dad’s place. We might have continued to spend time together after summer ended, but Mark moved away in the fall, and I never saw him again. I guess I could consider Mark my first boyfriend, despite the fact that we only saw each other every other weekend, and only for one summer. Looking back, I find it startling that a 16-year-old boy found a 12-year-old girl so enticing, but I guess that speaks volumes about how two people can be attracted to each other and not give any thought to an age difference or other variables. I thought Mark was so attractive, and I am grateful that my first romantic kiss was with a boy who truly showed interest in me, even though that kiss was tinged with the taste of banana! 

The Hot and Cold Man

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About a month ago, I went on a date with a man I will call Oliver. We started out with drinks, and as the evening progressed, we had a nice dinner, all the while enjoying stimulating conversation. I was actually excited about the prospect of seeing him again. Then one of my 14 year old cats became ill and died within several days, and my attention was diverted away from Oliver. I was very honest with him and told him I needed the weekend to process the death of my beloved cat, but he was insistent and kept pressuring me to pay attention to him, which only aggravated me. He finally backed off, and I contacted him at the beginning of the following week. We exchanged some nice sentiments via text, and I let him know that I was open to seeing him again.

About ten days passed without a peep from Oliver, so I contacted him to say hello. He informed me that his mother was ill with pneumonia, and that he had been at her home taking care of her. I expressed my wishes for his mother’s recovery, and told him to let me know when he was available. I heard from him three days later, on a Thursday, when he sent me this text:

I want to make it up to you because I like you and I feel that there’s a good connection between us. So please consider this, if you have any time over the weekend, I would love to see you over the weekend if not the beginning of the week. Give us a chance, OK? I will make it up to you Stacey.

Oliver ghosted me for another ten days, then suddenly popped up with text messages like, “I want to marry you”. It was as if he was incapable of exhibiting consistent behavior, which was a major turn-off for me. One morning, he asked me to give him a day on which we could have a second date, so I accommodated his request. Just as I expected, he completely ghosted me on the day he had selected for our second date, so I gave him a piece of my mind via text and blocked the jerk.

Are there any decent men out there anymore?

Why Some People Are Chronically Late

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© captainvector, 123RF Free Images

We could split up the majority of the population into two main groups: those who are consistently punctual, and those who are always late to everything, whether it be work, meetings, appointments, family gatherings, or concerts. I am definitely in the first group, and make sure to be on time regardless of where I need to be. In addition, if some unforeseen circumstances arise, such as a traffic accident which puts a snag in my commute, I always let the person I am meeting know that I am in a rare situation in which I am running late. My father, in stark contrast, was always VERY late, like an hour or more. He would often show up to family gatherings 3 hours late, only to discover that dinner had already been served, and that some relatives were already heading back home for the evening. It got to the point where my siblings and I would tell my dad that a 4 pm family barbecue was taking place at 2 pm, just so that he would show up close to the designated start time. What was especially interesting was that he never seemed fazed by the fact that he was always showing up extremely tardy.

A Harvard study conducted in 2019 found that people who had a tendency to run late experienced less stress, had lower blood pressure as well as longer lifespans than individuals who were punctual. I wouldn’t say that this fit my dad’s demeanor, because he dealt with enormous amounts of stress, had high blood pressure, and died at the age of 85 after acquiring a laundry list of medical diagnoses (coronary artery disease with heart attack and bypass surgery, high cholesterol, gastric ulcers, degenerative disc disease, cerebrovascular disease, diabetes). However, I find the Harvard study findings quite interesting, and wonder if people who are always late have just resigned themselves to the fact that they will always be late.

As a punctual person, I honestly don’t understand why it is seemingly so difficult for someone to map out departure times in order to arrive at a destination at the designated time. It takes only a small amount of planning, as easy as mapping out a route on Waze or Google Maps and saving the route. I do this frequently and very rarely run into issues with getting to a meeting or appointment on time. Also, a person who is late to meetings and larger events such as weddings is often perceived as inconsiderate and rude. No one should ever expect an event start time to be delayed simply because someone shows up late, even if that person is the central focus of the event. Some folks would argue that such behavior reveals a sense of entitlement and a general lack of regard for other people’s time.

However, this article is not meant to bash people who struggle with the concept of showing up to appointments and events on time, but rather, to discern possible explanations for such behavior. One idea is that some individuals grapple with honoring other people’s expectations of them and may act out by arriving behind schedule for many or most events. Dr. Neel Burton in The Psychology of Lateness (Psychology Today) states, “Angry people who behave with almost exaggerated calm and courtesy might nevertheless express their anger through passive means, that is, through (conscious or unconscious) resistance to meeting the reasonable expectations of others.”

Another possible explanation for constant tardiness is that perhaps people who are late don’t value themselves highly enough, so they show up late, thinking that their presence doesn’t matter. The irony is that tardiness is often so disruptive that the person’s presence (or absence) becomes achingly prominent. Such individuals often struggle with depression and anxiety, and frequently procrastinate in many areas of their lives. Even if there are dire consequences for being late all the time, some individuals don’t heed the warning signs and continue to display the same behaviors.

There also appears to be some correlation between lateness and ADHD, since those who have ADHD can be impulsive, inattentive, and often completely unaware of the time. However, responsible adult behavior includes honoring time commitments, so regardless of whether someone has ADHD or not, a repatterning of habits seems to be in order. I am by no means picking on those with ADHD, especially since I have numerous close friends with the condition, but the majority of them somehow manage to show up on time. Repercussions for constant tardiness could eventually convince someone to change habits and utilize tools such as calendars, phone alarms, GPS mapping programs in an effort to practice punctuality as a learned skill.

My Latest Nightmare Date

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Copyright: antonioguillem

I recently hopped onto a dating site in an effort to keep myself in circulation, and convinced myself to consider men who weren’t my type, but who might be suitable potential partners. One member who contacted me had a very interesting profile, and though he wasn’t physically my type, I was intrigued enough to chat with him. Once the message stream ensued and we switched over to text messaging, the man (I’ll call him Adofo) began texting me on a daily basis, not to say hello, but to ask me if I was free to hang out. Since the nature of my daily life rarely allows me to be spontaneous and make last minute plans, and also since I was preparing for an international trip, I made it clear to Adofo that my time was limited. He then agreed to meet me on a Sunday, so I added the meeting to my calendar.

Adofo texted me two days before our planned date, asking if I was free that evening, to which I replied that I was not. He then texted me the following day, and since the plans I had for Saturday had fallen through, I told him that I did indeed have the evening open. Adofo instructed me to meet him on his side of town, which bothered me for two reasons: I had driven all over town the entire week and wanted to take a break from driving long distances once the weekend arrived, and also because I am a bit old-fashioned and expect the man to come to my neck of the woods for the first date. When I told him that I had no intention of driving to Venice, he told me he would schedule an Uber. I then waited for the Uber, which never came because the app wasn’t allowing Adofo to schedule a pickup at my location.

He told me that I needed to hurry up and get to Venice before 5 pm, not considering the fact that he tried lining up the Uber at 4:15 pm. He also told me that we would grab a bite to eat at an Italian restaurant, to which I replied, “Italian isn’t good for me because of the gluten”. I asked if we could find a restaurant with cleaner fare, to which he replied, “oh, you’ll find something to eat there”.

I tried to schedule a Lyft, but the soonest pickup time was in 20 minutes, so I told Adofo I would drive in my own car. I asked him to tell me where to meet him, and he simply said, “Alehouse”, as if he expected me to know the place. I told him to please send me the address, since I was already annoyed by the fact that I had to drive out to Venice. He said, “look it up”, and I bristled, telling him that I was making the effort to come out his way, that I had been standing outside for the Uber which never came, and that I had attempted to schedule a Lyft. I insisted on having him text me the address.

A few minutes after I began driving, Adofo texted me and told me to meet him at his place because I would be able to park my car there. I didn’t respond since I was driving. I got a second text from him, suggesting that we meet at the Italian restaurant, which I also did not respond to because I was driving. I already had the address for Alehouse in my GPS and I wasn’t about to change it. By this time I was extremely irritated and had actually thought of turning around and going home, but I didn’t want to come across as a flake, and drove out to Venice.

Of course Venice was packed with traffic, and I couldn’t find any parking. I pulled over and texted Adofo, informing him that I had passed the Alehouse and was looking for parking, and he called me. He said, “Hey, where are ya?” I told him I was in my car, that parking and traffic were major issues. He said, “Get over here!” I told him that I was a couple of blocks down and that because the traffic was terrible, he needed to understand that I needed a few minutes to return to the Alehouse entrance. He then said, “Pick me up in front of Alehouse, I’ll get into your car and we’ll find parking”.

When Adofo got into my car, he immediately said, “Wow, you’re really fucking cute! You’re so pretty! Give me a kiss!” I refused, which prompted him to say, “Wow, you’re spicy! A sassy bitch, I like you!” I told him that I had to start driving, that there were cars behind me, so he relented for about 20 seconds, then asked me what my sign was. I said, “Moon child. Cancer.” His eyes widened, and he remarked, “Me too! When’s your birthday?” “July 9th.” “Mine’s June 27th. Wow, I can’t believe you’re a Cancer. And you’re 56, wow. You don’t look 56. I’m 52. You’re 56, you’re older than me.” I told Adofo that he needed to direct me to the parking lot he wanted me to park in, that we could talk later.

Adofo seemed annoyed that I wouldn’t humor him, but proceeded to direct me to a parking structure. I parked the car, and as I was walking from the car, he grabbed me by the waist, exclaimed, “Give me a hug!”, and squeezed me tight, which annoyed me even more. Adofo then said, “Give me a kiss!” I told him no, so he said, “Dammit, you’re so fucking stubborn! Wow.” We walked to the restaurant and took two seats at the bar, and as soon as the bartender saw Adofo, he approached Adofo and said, “Hey man, you’ve got some open tabs to pay”, and he placed 4 receipts in front of Adofo.

I had forgotten my cell phone in my car, so I excused myself to get it. For a fleeting moment, I seriously considered just driving away, but once again, I didn’t want to be that kind of person, so I reluctantly returned to the restaurant and took my seat at the bar. Adofo immediately scooted my barstool closer to him so that my thigh was touching his, and he slipped his hand around my waist and pulled me in tighter. By this time I was so disgusted, and figured that the evening was probably going to go downhill, but I tried to make the best of it and ask him questions about his life and career. Oddly, Adofo didn’t ask me a single question about me or my life, but in true narcissistic fashion, was delighted to talk about himself.

Adofo proceeded to ask me three more times when my birthday was, and each time, he said, “Oh wow, you’re a Cancer!”, which made me think that perhaps this man was suffering from early onset Alzheimer’s. He also kept mentioning my age, and at one point, he told me that at 56, I was near 60, that I needed to hustle and get a man and get my life in order. Another thing Adofo kept saying was, “You’re gonna be my girlfriend, I just know it. Will you be my girlfriend? You don’t have to give me an answer today, tomorrow is fine.” At one point in the evening, he said, “I know it’s very 5th grade of me to ask you to be my girlfriend, but I like you”, and then at another point, he said “I know it’s very 3th grade of me to ask you to be my girlfriend, but I like you”. He certainly was behaving like someone in grade school, but I guess he didn’t remember what grade he was in (hah!). He wasn’t acting like a 52 year old man, that’s for sure.

We ordered drinks, and when I asked for a vermentino, Adofo scoffed and said, “Oh, you like WHITE wine. Whatever, I like red wine.” I guess in his estimation it was unacceptable for me to prefer white wine. He also told me to order food from the happy hour menu, not the main menu, and while I was perusing the happy hour menu, Adofo said, “No, don’t look at that, I’ll order for us, you’ll like what I order. I’ll get Arancini (rice balls with cheese, battered and deep fried, full of gluten), penne pasta (full of gluten), chicken meatballs (gluten), and bone marrow (served with bread, another gluten bomb).”

When the food came, I wanted the bone marrow, but Adofo dumped portions of the other dishes onto my plate, and said I HAD to eat the other items. I carry one of two genetic markers for celiac disease, and I also suffer from leaky gut, so my trepidation over consuming gluten is very real. I guess the only good thing was that the portions were small, since they were appetizers. Adofo ended up wearing some of the meal because he was such a slob, and the sauce stains streaked all over his shirt made me want to avoid him even more.

As soon as he wolfed down the majority of the food, he said, “Let’s get out of here. We can hang out at my place, get a bottle of wine.” I told him I was still hungry and would like to get a small salad, to which he replied, “Nah, we’ll order one to go. We’ll also get another bone marrow appetizer.” He ordered the to go items, asked for the check, and paid the bill. Once we had the to go order, we walked to my car, got in, and I began driving. As I was driving, Adofo said, “Hey, let’s watch the sunset!” “Adofo, there is COMPLETE cloud cover, so we won’t see a thing.” “Ah come on! Let’s go!” I told him no, and he once again accused me of being stubborn.

Adofo directed me to a parking spot in back of his place which I was comfortable with since it was out in the open, and in a well trafficked alley. We then walked up to his place, and when I mentioned that perhaps we could go to the liquor store which was across the street for wine, he brushed me off and told me we would do that later. His apartment was plain, old, and indicative of someone who really hadn’t made it in life, so I wasn’t surprised by it. I excused myself to use the restroom, and when I walked into the living area, Adofo went into the kitchen and opened a beer. I asked him if we could go to the liquor store, since I can’t drink beer, and he replied, “Not right now, hold on.” Sigh.

I took a seat on his very tiny sofa, and he sat at the small round plastic table which served as his desk as well as his dining room table. He opened his laptop and was staring at the screen while I spoke with him, a lapse in manners which I had learned to accept from Adofo at this point. I asked him how long he had been living in his apartment, and he told me he moved in there in 2020, right after his father died. I told him that my father had died in 2020 as well, and how that year was difficult for many people. I asked him if he had lived in Malaysia (he had mentioned that to me when we first began messaging each other) immediately before moving into his current space, and he said he had. He mentioned that people in southeast Asia are different, that the life there is in many ways better. Then he said, “You’re going to Thailand, right?” “Yes I am, in a week.” “You’ll like it there.”

I told Adofo that I had been to Thailand before, that it would be my second visit, and that I had been to 18 countries. I started listing the countries, and he interrupted me in mid-sentence, barking, “Come here.” I told him that I was in mid-sentence trying to talk to him, and he responded with, “What were you saying?” “Okay Adofo, clearly you weren’t listening to what I was saying. Never mind.” “No, come on, tell me.” “Nope, I’m over it.”

“Well, just come over here already.” I walked over to the table, and he grabbed me by the waist, telling me to kiss him. I said no and took several steps back, then happened to glance at his laptop screen, on which he had Murray Head’s “One Night In Bangkok” music video occupying the entire screen and cued up to the beginning. I said, “I’m well acquainted with that song and with the video, so unless there’s a specific point in the video you want to show me, I’m good.”

Adofo then looked at me and said, “You’re 56. I still can’t believe it, you look really good. Do you want babies?” I told him, “Listen, I’ve been through menopause. The factory is shut down, I can’t have kids.” Adofo’s gaze sank to my crotch, and he said, “Let me see.”

“Excuse me?”

“Let me see it. Let me see your vagina.”

“I’m DONE.”

I turned to the sofa, grabbed my handbag, and rushed out of that apartment as fast as I possibly could, and once I was in the alley, I ran to my car. Adofo chased me the entire way, and tried to block me as I drove away. Within a couple of minutes, I blocked him on the dating app, on Instagram, and also blocked his phone number. Thankfully, it was still light outside, I was in a very busy urban area, and I was actually relieved that I had my car, because I was able to make a quick getaway.

Ladies, make sure to carry pepper spray to protect yourself in a similar situation.

Guys, please don’t be like Adofo! Such behavior is one sure way to keep women at bay for good.

Once A Cheater, Always A Cheater

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Copyright: milkos

I recently went through a breakup with a man I had been seeing since September of last year. He always seemed to have a player vibe, but I chose to ignore it because we truly had a lot of fun together. When we began dating, I was on a dating app, and was seeing another man who seemed to have great long term potential, but that guy’s efforts fell flat, so George conveniently slid into the boyfriend spot which had been open for quite a while.

Every time George and I would hang out, alcohol had to be present, and when it was time to turn in for the night, he would reach for a 100 mg THC gummy, without which he was entirely unable to sleep. This was cause for concern, since I only ever saw George sober at the beginning of our evenings together, and the following morning when he was once again sober. It was during one evening when we were drinking and chatting that George revealed to me that for a number years, he had been seeing two women simultaneously, and that both relationships were fairly serious. I was concerned by this, and just couldn’t figure out how a man could dupe one woman while also seeing another woman who was fully cognizant of the deception. He went on to describe how he and the woman who was aware that there was another love interest would party all the time. George eventually broke up with the gal who was kept in the dark and continued his relationship with the wild woman, but that relationship became extremely toxic according to him, and he ultimately left her.

So here I was, in a so-called “relationship” with George, and for whatever reason, I didn’t end things when I realized that he had no intention of ever allowing me to see where he lived. According to him, he lived with his mother and stepdad, and he stated that his mother wouldn’t like me since she hadn’t been fond of his former girlfriends. I was basically told that I was doomed from the start as far as his mom was concerned. After 8 months of dating George, I complained about his refusal to let me see where and how he lived, which led to an argument in which he stated that he didn’t want me to just “show up unannounced”. I have never once in my life shown up at anyone’s place unannounced, much less at the residence of someone I was dating. George ended up winning the argument, and I ended up going out with George for eleven months without ever seeing where he lived.

George’s affectionate nature cooled significantly about 8 months in, and he stopped making an effort to see me more than once a week, stating that work obligations were keeping him busy. To be honest, I never believed that, and I truly do think he was messing around. He finally and abruptly broke up with me one night, so I revisited the dating app where we had met, only to find him on the app with an active profile. Shame on me for even thinking that this man was capable of being faithful to one person!

What To Do When Your Parents Need Different Types of Senior Care

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Written by Julia Merril of befriendyourdoc.org

Dr. Stacey Naito of Dr. Stacey Naito’s Blog is a board-certified family practice physician with a wide range of interests that she shares with readers. Read more informative articles today!


Image via Pexels

What To Do When Your Parents Need Different Types of Senior Care

As your parents age, they may need help finding senior care or an alternative living situation. When that time comes, you may be faced with an unexpected challenge — figuring out what to do when only one parent needs to move into a nursing home. Dr. Stacey Naito of Dr. Stacey Naito’s Blog explains that by involving your parents and handling the process with compassion, you can create a smooth, loving transition.

Choosing a Nursing Home

The right nursing home is essential for your parents’ comfort, health, and financial stability. As you choose a facility, follow these steps:

  • Verify insurance coverage. Find out how much your parents’ plan will pay each month.
  • Identify appropriate facilities. Find nursing homes that accept your parents’ insurance and fulfill their care requirements. Go online to find the facilities in your area and read up on pricing information, payment options, and reviews. You’ll find nearly 80 assisted living communities in Los Angeles.
  • Determine excess costs. Calculate the extra monthly costs for each facility.
  • Make a short list. Select facilities that fit your budget, care, and location preferences.
  • Read reviews. Look into the reputation, quality of care, and services at each facility.
  • Visit facilities. Bring both of your parents to check out your top 3-5 nursing homes. Look at factors such as cleanliness, activities, and interpersonal relationships.
  • Ask about openings. Find out when a room or bed will open.

Paying for a Nursing Home or Assisted Living Facility

In the United States, US News & World Report notes that the average room in a nursing home costs more than $100,000 per year. For a shared room, you can expect costs of more than $93,000 per year. Some ways to cover nursing home costs are:

  • Medicaid
  • Long-term care insurance
  • Life insurance
  • Savings and retirement income
  • Family contributions

Keep in mind that costs can vary significantly between states and cities. If you live in a different city, you might save money by moving your parents to a nursing home near you.

Helping Your Other Parent Downsize

Maintaining a home is a big job; when one parent moves into a nursing home, your other parent may want to move as well. Some options are:

  • Move the parent in with you or a sibling
  • Find a smaller apartment or condo near the nursing home
  • Rent a room in an assisted living facility

When your parents are moving to different places, you’ll need to deal with two moves. A moving company can make the transition easier for everyone; they can handle the packing and the heavy lifting so you can focus on your parents. For safety and security, choose a trusted company by reading moving company reviews online and selecting the best one. Ideally, the moving company you choose has experience with senior moves. 

Providing Compassionate Help to Aging Parents

Moving your parents into separate homes can be emotional and exhausting for everyone involved. As an adult child, DailyCaring points out that all of the stress can make it harder to remain compassionate. To ease the process, you can:

  • Hire a senior move manager. They’ll help with sorting, organizing, and selling belongings during the downsizing process.
  • Take personal time. Make time for your friends and favorite activities.
  • Ask relatives for help. Don’t be afraid to lean on siblings, aunts, uncles, and cousins.
  • Get support. Join a support group to express your emotions in a safe place.

Managing the Senior Care Process

With patience and compassion, you can help both of your parents settle into new homes. Remember to put a lot thought into choosing the right senior living facility, paying for continued care, helping with downsizing, and providing all the care you can. 

You’ll Let ME Go Now?

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Copyright: maridav

One of my biggest pet peeves is when someone I am speaking with on the phone says, “I’ll let you go now.” Wait a minute, YOU are gonna let ME go? Since when are YOU in charge of MY time? Let’s be real about the situation in which someone might be tempted to use this manipulative statement when signing off on a phone call.

If the person you are chatting with needs to go, then that is what the person should say. It’s as simple as saying, “Well, I have to run, hope you have a great day!”, but instead some people insist on throwing the responsibility of the conversation on you. It is damned RUDE. One of my closest friends says this all the time, and I cringe every single time he utters it.

So if you are someone who says this frequently, you might want to consider changing that habit.

One Of My Worst Dating Experiences

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Copyright: belchonock

If you’ve been in the dating world for any span of time, I am willing to bet that you have at least one story about a bad dating experience. There have been a few doozies in my dating life, but one in particular was particularly aggravating. I’ve gotten so many laughs from relaying the story about Max that I figured my subscribers would also get a chuckle out of it.

I met Max (and yes, that was his real name) at a Halloween party in 2009 at the Skirball Center on Sepulveda Blvd. While I was at the party, a very nondescript man who was not at all my type approached me, began talking to me, and followed me around. You guessed it, this was Max. He refused to leave my side, cockblocked a number of men who were my type, and just annoyed me to no end. When I decided to leave the party, he hounded me for my phone number, and for some utterly stupid reason, I gave it to him.

Max called me the next day, asking if I was free, to which I replied that I was watching Sunday NFL Football with my roommates. Without hesitation, Max invited himself over, and because I was so distracted by the activity in the house, I relented and gave him my address. When Max showed up at my place, he was empty handed, and promptly asked if we had beer or some other libation he could enjoy. I opened up a bottle of sake and poured two glasses. About 30 minutes after Max showed up, my two roommates stated that they were planning to put some burgers and chicken on the grill, and invited Max and me to join them in consuming the food. Once the food was cooked, the four of us sat in front of the TV, eating, drinking, and watching the game. A big smile broke on Max’s face, and he said, “Wow, this is awesome! I’m getting free food, free booze, and I’m watching football!” which made me cringe and also triggered concerned expressions on both my roommates’ faces.

Once the afternoon game was over, I told Max I had an early day the next day, and thanked him for coming over. Max stated that he would make it up to me the following week by taking me to dinner, to which I reluctantly agreed. Two days later, Max called me and we made plans to meet at a restaurant called Firefly in Studio City that Friday. For those of you who don’t know the restaurant, here is a portion of the current (2022) dinner menu:

Fried heritage chicken with mashed potatoes & gravy, horseradish slaw
and a damn fine buttermilk biscuit (or just as fine GF cornbread for the intolerant)   29 

Potato kugel with king trumpet mushrooms, roasted carrots, tofu creamed spinach and truffled demi   28
Red chile braised pork with crinkly sweet potatoes, collard greens, crispy mushrooms and pepita–cilantro salsa   30

 Zucchini, corn and poblano enchiladas verdes with black beans, romaine, pickled red onions and cashew crema   27

 Moqueca Baiana of rockfish, mussels and scallops with watercress–watermelon radish salad and jasmine rice   31

 Dijon crusted ocean trout filet with seared asparagus, quinoa–pine nut pilaf and sauce gribiche   33

 Baked mac ‘n cheese with cheddar, gruyere and parmesan bread crumbs   12

On Friday, Max and I met at the restaurant and were seated at a lovely al fresco table. The waiter brought menus and took our drink orders, which consisted of two similar mixed drinks on the rocks. Max perused the menu for several minutes, then looked over at me with a dissatisfied facial gesture. I asked him what was wrong, to which he replied, “I just don’t see anything that is grabbing me, ya know? I think I want to see if they can make a burger for me.” Since I wanted to be a good sport, I told him that if the chef was willing to accommodate his request, I would also have a burger. Well, Max got his wish, and we ordered burgers. We also ordered a second round of drinks.

The burgers were delicious, and our conversation flowed better than I thought it would, but since I felt no romantic spark with Max, I just wanted to get through the date without any awkwardness. Then the waiter placed the bill on the table while Max and I were talking about something that made us both laugh. While still laughing, Max picked up the bill, glanced at it, scowled, threw the bill onto the table, and remarked, “Oh, I can’t pay this!” I picked up the bill and saw that the total was $75, and because I wanted to be accommodating, I suggested that we split the bill, to which he agreed.

Two minutes later, Max scowled (this time at me), said “Wait a minute!”, and grabbed the bill. He studied it for a minute, then remarked, “The drink you ordered is $1 more than mine, and you had two of them, which means you owe $2 more than me.” I just sat there, dumbfounded. Was this guy really that cheap? I was so disgusted and so intent on getting out of that restaurant that I told him, “Don’t worry about it, I’ll pay the whole thing.” I proceeded to pay the entire bill plus tip, because Max didn’t even offer to leave the tip.

When we walked to the valet area to pick up our cars, Max said, “I’ll pay your valet fee if you let me come over” to which I replied, “No thank you, keep your $5.” Needless to say, there was no third date with Max, but he continued to call me, begging me to take him with me to Preview Night at the L.A. Auto Show. I had purchased two tickets (at $100 a pop), and mistakenly mentioned that I was going to the event and was waiting to hear back from a friend who said he wanted to join me. Max truly believed that I would have been willing to take him, on MY dime, to the event. I asked him to please stop calling me, and when he refused to leave me alone, I blocked his number.

I’d love to hear about your nightmare dating stories, so please share in the comments!

Cutting Out The Fat

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One of the healthiest things I have done this year is to eliminate a very toxic person from my life. It took me over ten years to realize that this person was never a true friend, and that I was always regarded as “just Stacey”, not as an important or special person. I foolishly kept making generous gestures, including buying this person a new phone when the old one became nonfunctional, even though I struggled to pay for that replacement phone and felt the financial impact of my own generosity. I went so far as to stock special supplements, foods and beverages, which I never personally consumed, in my home to accommodate this person’s visits, even visiting stores I would not normally frequent in order to purchase these special items. In short, I was too nice to a person who never deserved any of it. I have saved money since I cut this person off. I don’t miss being drained financially, emotionally, mentally, even physically. This person NEVER cared about me, and has never wanted to help me with something as simple as taking out the trash while I was preparing food. If I asked for such a favor, this person would say, “You’re just gonna have to wait”, and would take his time reading his book or watching TV before he would begrudgingly get up and toss the garbage.

Copyright: bsd555

I was never good enough in this person’s eyes, and was always being told that if I did things his way, then my life would be so much better. One example was when he stated that a mini fridge I had in a corner of my dining room was not positioned optimally, and that I should pivot it 90 degrees. We bickered about it for several minutes, then I acquiesced. Upon attempting to pivot the fridge, we discovered why I had positioned the fridge the way I had done when I moved in. Basically, the way that I had arranged the fridge was the ONLY way I could plug it into the wall without using an extension cord. So we pivoted the fridge back to its original spot, yet this person never admitted that his insistence on moving the fridge might have been unnecessary. I received unsolicited advice on my finances, how I stored my pantry items, how my home gym was set up, etc. When I say that this person would constantly tell me how to do things, I am definitely not exaggerating. I was ALWAYS in his shadow, even when I knew that his suggestions were no better than the manner in which I did things. It was exasperating and frustrating to deal with this constant criticism.

You might be asking how I could have let someone take advantage of me like this for so many years, and the only thing I can say is that I somehow believed that this person was a good friend. Something clicked in my brain when he decided to wash his car in front of my garage, using water I pay for, and using car wash accessories I also paid for, without asking me if he could do so. I had to study for my family practice board recertification exam, so I told him I needed a couple of weeks to really hunker down and study. I took the exam, then he rudely ignored me for several more weeks (we would often hang out on a weekly basis), triggering an epiphany in me. Only then was I able to stand tall and speak my mind, then sever ties.