You're my best friend

2005 was an eventful year for us on a near epic scale. So many things happened that year that honestly, it was hard to remember all of it - but I'll do my best...

It was the year I discovered (and joined) a site called deviantArt - a place where I could post the pictures I had taken, projects I was working on and my lame attempts at drawing. I still have an account there today.

It was also the year that I started becoming agoraphobic. I think that was triggered by the guy that moved into the house behind us. He seemed normal enough when I met him, but that was going to change. We had more or less 'adopted' a bunch of stray cats that had taken up residence in our backyard. They used to live in the salvage yard that was down the hill from us, but the property was sold, cleared and now being developed - so they all migrated uphill. My sweetie liked to sit out there and feed them in the morning while he was having his coffee. He'd buy packages of cheap hotdogs, cut them into small chunks and toss them to the cats. Eventually they became friendly enough that they'd let us pet them. One day we came home and the new neighbor (who I'll call Freak Show) came to the fence that divided our yards and asked us if the cats were ours. We said "Not really, they're strays - but they're friendly and we feed them." He said there was a kitten under his porch and he was afraid his dogs would get it, would I mind getting it out? I said 'sure, no problem' and went to retrieve the kitten. It only took a few minutes to chase it out (and I wondered why he didn't just do it himself) but as I was holding the kitten (and getting clawed for my trouble) he asked if that didn't hurt. I laughed at him and said no. My tattoos hurt worse. I told him "It's just a kitten - they aren't a threat to anything but mice really" and turned it loose in our yard.

I've always been a night owl, and shortly after the kitten rescue I was up late one evening playing a new game I'd just gotten on my computer. My sweetie was sleeping, so I had the lights off and was sitting in the dark alternating between watching the tv and playing my new game. The tv was behind me, so I had to keep swiveling the chair around to see it and then back to the computer. Around 2am, I noticed the Freak Show's lights were on and since he didn't have any curtains hanging I could see right into his room. I only gave it a passing glance as I swiveled around and went back to watching my movie. About 15 minutes later I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye and turned to look - and there was the Freak Show, standing in his window, stark naked, looking into my apartment grinning and jacking off. From his place the only window in our building that he could see into is mine, and I had the distinct impression he wanted me to see him. Ewwww! Creepy! I have got nothing against people masturbating, but I didn't need to see that and I definitely didn't ask to see it. I didn't acknowledge that I'd seen him, and instead I went upstairs to visit my friend the Dungeon Master who was playing D&D with his buddy. I told him about it and we had a good laugh over it. By the time I went back downstairs the 'show' was over and I went back to playing my game.

A few hours later the sun was coming up and I was getting ready to crash when I heard something outside. It was the Freak Show's pit-bull running around in my backyard. A scary looking dog. I considered calling animal control on him but by the time they'd get there the dog would probably be gone anyway. Then I heard the most horrifying noise on the back steps. I looked outside and saw the dog had one of our stray momma kitties in its mouth and was shaking her like a rag! The poor kitty was screaming, I was screaming, days old kittens were scattered across the sidewalk. My sweetie heard me freaking out and ran outside without even waiting to see what was going on, he scared off the dog who then dropped kitty and split. The kitty freaked out, ran off and disappeared leaving her babies behind. We gathered up the babies and reassembled their shelter and kept watch waiting for momma to come back. At this point I thought she was injured and had gone off somewhere to die and the kittens were orphans. Freak Show came outside and called his dog and my sweetie (nicely) advised him to keep the dog on a leash. Momma kitty eventually came back and moved the kittens, but I was pissed off. There had been several pit-bull attacks in the Twin Cities that year and here this asshole was, letting his dog run loose. After that I called animal control on him any time I saw his dog in our yard.

Shortly after that I got a new digital camera which was a huge improvement over the old one. I was now capable of taking hundreds of pictures without having to pay for film developing and I went out often to find stuff to photograph. My sweetie always came with and when I couldn't think of anyplace to go, he could. We went to Carvers Cave, Como Zoo, Swede Hollow, we saw concerts at The Taste of Minnesota - I toted that camera with me everywhere and took pictures of everything. My deviantArt gallery grew quickly. Suddenly I had people telling me I take really good pictures and that I have a good eye. My answer to them was the same then as it is now - "I just take pictures of what I see, the camera does all the work."

I had almost forgotten about the Freak Show and his dogs for a few weeks, but then he was at it again. I made many calls to animal control (as did our other neighbors) when he let his dog run loose. For their part, they kept telling him that if he didn't comply he'd be fined and they'd eventually seize his dogs. So he finally started putting the dogs on a leash - but the leash was long enough that the dog could run into the yard of the Hmong people next door where it would wind itself around their satellite dish and screw up their signal. When the elderly lady of the house would come out to fix it, she'd yell at him and the Freak Show just cussed her out like it was her fault and his dog had every right to be in her yard. More calls to animal control and he finally put up a fence to keep the dog in his own yard. It was an incredibly flimsy looking thing and I doubted it would contain them.
He also resumed his exhibitionist behavior.

After the first incident, I just started closing my curtains as soon as it got dark out - but now the weather was getting warmer and we only had two windows. We had an air conditioner, but it was old and didn't work properly. All it did was make a lot of noise, drive up the electric bill and instead of cooling the place off it actually made it hotter. We had to open the windows, there just wasn't any way around it. We did our best to block the windows so he couldn't see in but we could have some air flow. Then one night while my sweetie was off at a concert with Former Roommate #2, I discovered that despite our efforts the Freak Show could still see in. In fact, not only could he see in but he was spying on me with a scope in one hand and his dick in the other. Just like the first incident, as soon as he saw me he stood up and started doing his thing. That was too much for me so this time I called the police and told them about it. It was a huge waste of time though, the cop that came out said he couldn't do anything unless I had pictures or something and why don't I just keep my window closed (ummm, because it's over 80 degrees outside and the air conditioner doesn't work?!). Since my camera isn't good enough to take pictures across the yard in the dark I figured there was nothing I could do. I had a large curtain I was using as a partial room divider and my sweetie rigged it so it now went all the way across. We could have the window open to keep the apartment cool and the Freak couldn't see in anymore. He did it just so I could sit at my computer comfortably again - I loved him for that.

Freak wasn't going to let that stop him though. He was always sitting in his window at night just waiting for me, and as soon as I was on the other side of the curtain he'd pop up and do his thing. I just heaved a sigh and quickly retreated to the other side of the curtain. One night we even caught him climbing up the tree in our yard and snapping off branches. My sweetie went outside to confront him - "What the hell are you doing?" and the Freak claimed that he was just trying to improve the view of skyline from his window. (Bullshit! He was trying to see if he could see in the other window!) My sweetie thought this was a believable excuse though. He told him to do it in the daytime and ask permission first. Freak climbed back down and went back in his house. When my sweetie came back in and told me what the Freak said, I called bullshit and told him why I thought he was in our tree.

By this point I'd had more than enough of the Freak and I figured if the cops wanted photo proof, I'd try to get it for them. I immediately went to ebay and found a web camera with night vision and ordered it up, along with a usb cord long enough to go from the window to my computer. When they arrived my sweetie helped me create a housing for it. We wanted it to be protected from rain and snow, so we mounted a bird feeder outside the window, removed one of the glass panels and mounted the camera inside it. Less than 15 minutes later and I was able to see the backyard and the Freaks house on my computer screen. I rubbed my hands together with glee - I couldn't wait to catch him! My plan was to make several cd copies of the video - one for the cops, several for the neighbors, I also planned to burn a stack of them labeled with his address and have a friend leave them in the mens room of the gay bar downtown. I figured if he wanted an audience I'd help him out. My evil plan did not come to fruition however. The Freak noticed the bird feeder - and the camera - and that very night decided to hang a bed sheet curtain in his window. I didn't really care how the problem was solved, I was just happy he stopped - but I left the camera in place anyway, just in case.

Shortly after that, it was my sweeties birthday - his 40th. He was still sober and his mom wanted to make a big deal of it, so she threw him a birthday party at her house and invited everyone she could think of. I didn't really want to go to a party at her house. I knew it would be packed with people and crowded, but it was a milestone event and I'd been trapped in my apartment for the past few months by mean dogs and their Freak of an owner so I decided to go. At the time we were feeding the Dungeon Master on a regular basis (I had learned he was short on grocery money and having been friends since our teens, I would not let him go hungry). My sweetie and I convinced him to come with us because there'd be lots of food and we weren't cooking that evening. He didn't want to go, but we talked him into it.


As I expected, the party was crowded. There were people all over the yard and in the house - a pretty even mix of his friends and family members. Even his dad was there which was rather amazing because his parents were divorced and didn't really get along. For some reason I was being hailed as some kind of hero because my sweetie had succeeded in staying sober. I still don't think I deserved as much credit for that as they gave me. Then the younger of his aunts arrived with a cheerful purple haired young lady in tow. It turned out that she was staying with his aunt who also talked her into coming along with the promise of food and company. As the party wore on, the groups began to segregate and all of us 'cool kids' were sitting around in the back yard while all the 'old' people (the non-partier types) and small kids were hanging out inside. It was then that the Dungeon Master met the cheerful purple haired girl and was instantly smitten. The two of them began chatting in an animated fashion. Later some of us decided to take a recreational smoke break in our friends van before he left and we invited the younger aunt (also a smoker) to join us. She said 'maybe later' but suggested that the purple haired girl would likely be interested in joining us. My sweetie and I beamed at each other. She smokes too?! She and the Dungeon Master would be a match made in Heaven! She did join us in the van, and later when I gave her and my sweeties aunt a ride home - she and the Dungeon Master continued chattering excitedly with each other. When we arrived at the aunts house and she offered the Dungeon Master a glass of chocolate milk, I knew it was a done deal! Just like feeding a stray cat, if you offer the Dungeon Master chocolate milk you'll never get rid of him. When we finally returned to our home, we considered the day to be a huge success. Over the next few weeks, the Dungeon Master began visiting the Purple Haired Girl frequently and moped around our apartment pining for her when she wasn't around.


A few weeks later, we made another trip to our favorite camp ground and a few weeks after that a group of us went to the renaissance festival together. The Dungeon Master invited the Purple Haired Girl to come along, and they both went in costume. A good time was had by all. Not long after that though, we had a power surge and it fried my computer. I lost all the pictures I had taken because I had neglected to burn them to disks. That depressed me more that I can say... It was a few months before I was able to get a new system, and when I finally did I was almost fanatical about making sure to back up my data for quite some time. Meanwhile, the Purple Haired Girl (which actually isn't a good name for her because her hair had by that time had also been pink, blue and orange) moved out of my sweeties aunts house and into an apartment of her own in our building. The Dungeon Master was determined to woo her at any cost and my sweetie and I were endlessly amused by his efforts at nesting. He sought our advice on numerous things, but the one that made us giggle the most was when he wanted to know what kind of toilet paper women preferred. Lmao! (our answer: ANY kind! Just make sure to have some in the house!) Before long, and despite her protesting, they were an official couple. Our trio became a quartet.


Meanwhile my sweetie and I were getting along better than we ever had, but things weren't altogether well with me. Even though we had thwarted the Freak in his exhibitionist habits, he was still there and I couldn't be outside anymore without feeling like I was being watched. And the few times he was outside at the same time as me, he had said shit. I began to feel ever more uncomfortable and started avoiding the back yard. Eventually I stopped going outside if I could help it, and when I did go out I came and went through the front door just to avoid him. I became more and more depressed and I started gaining weight, which added to the depression. I felt trapped. If I didn't have my sweetie, I think I would have wound up in a loony bin. Fortunately I did have him, and he didn't care at all that I had put on weight.

Take me to the river

In September things started going downhill. My sweetie still felt well enough that he wanted to do the laundry, but climbing back up the stairs was taking it out of him. He'd make it back into the apartment and collapse on the couch, completely winded and needing to rest. Me and our friends downstairs (the dungeon master and his wife) wanted him to let us help him - at least let one of us carry the basket up and down - and he dismissed the idea. As long as he was able to, he wanted to do things on his own. Still, it was obviously wearing him out and he was spending more and more time napping on the couch.

Early one morning I woke up hearing a chainsaw. I grumbled and tried to go back to sleep, but no dice - the chainsaw just kept going. WIIIiiiiinnnGGGGwiiiiinnnngggggugugugh.... I put the pillow over my head trying to muffle it. Nope, no good. Finally, frustrated, I threw the covers back and got out of bed to investigate. I looked out the living room window and saw nothing. I remember complaining about it to my sweetie who was sitting on the couch watching tv and apparently hadn't even noticed it. Grumpy and bleary eyed, I went out to the kitchen and threw open the back door... and saw a guy in our backyard hollering instructions to another guy (with a chainsaw) in a cherry picker. Apparently the neighbors behind us had decided to cut down the tree that was on the border of our yards. It was a mess and there were branches all over our yard. I hollered to my sweetie to come look and when we both stepped out onto the balcony, the guy who was hollering instructions noticed us and cheerfully asked if we had been having trouble with our phone. "Nope", we said, "we don't even use the phone lines." So that was it...they decided to chop the whole tree down because one of the branches had grown around a phone line. *sigh* We loved that tree - it blocked the house behind us from view and gave the yard a little shade. In no time flat it was nothing but a stump and our yard felt a lot less private. The guy then asked if it would be ok to haul the branches out through our driveway. "Yep, fine. Just don't fuck up our swimming pool." The guy promised he'd be careful and we went back inside.

About a week later we decided summer was officially over, emptied the pool and packed it back into it's box. We also dismantled the deck garden and hauled the flower pots, chairs and shade umbrella down to the garage. I noticed that he was piling the pots on the floor off to the side instead of putting them up on the shelf where we normally kept them - and that's when I knew it was starting to get bad. He was a tall guy, and always took advantage of high spaces for storage. Our entire time together, I was always having to ask him to please get this bowl down for me, or reach up and change that light bulb. Tall guy stuff. Now it hurt for him to raise his arms over his head repeatedly, but he'd still grab the mixing bowl for me if I needed it. I could see it hurt though, and tried not to bother him with it if I could. Apparently it bothered him more to see me climbing the counter because he'd fetch it before I reached it and then help me back down again.

His family members were coming over a lot more frequently - his mom, dad, sister and his cousin. They all came over separately and they would sit around making pleasant conversation or snap some photos of him - then as soon as he was out of earshot they'd ask me in hushed tones how he was doing and tell me how brave and strong I was to deal with this. Inwardly I bristled at this. I did not consider myself to be brave or strong at all - I was terrified and anxious. I could keep it together when I was at home with him, but when I was alone in my car running errands, I'd lose it completely and cry my eyes out. I started keeping a box of tissue in the car just so I could dry my eyes when I got where I was going or returned home. I didn't want anyone to see me crying. I didn't want to be pitied. But here they were, doing just that. His dad would come over and buy us lunch, when his sister came over she brought coffee. His mom brought whatever item she happened to come across that she thought he could use - things like hot beverage heaters. She also decided that she was going to redecorate her living room and gave us her electric fireplace which we gratefully accepted. It's got an oak mantle and also works as a space heater. The dungeon master and my sweetie hauled it upstairs. I offered to help carry but my sweetie said 'no - he'd get it' - so typical of him. Part of me wonders if he wasn't trying to make a point with his mom - "I'm not dead yet! Quit trying to baby me!" She had been trying to fawn over him ever since his diagnosis and acting like a bit of a martyr while she did so. I think it was as annoying to him as it was to me.

His cousin was the daughter of his mothers oldest sister and they practically grew up together. Her parents have a place in Marine on the St. Croix - a beautiful house on the bluff along the river. They also have a pontoon boat, and his cousin asked us if we wanted to go out for a boat ride. We both like boat rides and jumped at the chance. I brought the camera along and took pictures of the scenery and my sweetie as we were enjoying the ride, but it was a chilly day and we set out late, so we didn't stay out very long. She promised she'd take us back out again though, before they pulled the boat out of the water for the season - hopefully it would be a warmer day, and we promised that we would hold her to it. Back at her parents house, her mom had gotten out her camera and there was more photos being taken. Then we hopped in the car and I drove us back home.

A week or so later, and it was time for another scan to be done. He had to drink another bottle of what he called the nastiest orange shake drink he'd ever tasted, and then we had to wait for enough of it to circulate through him before they did the scan. I remember sitting there and foolishly hoping against hope that the results wouldn't be bad. When the scan was finished, they set an appointment for him to see his oncologist and get the results on October 1st. Neither of us spoke about it on the ride back home. We talked about anything but doctors, tests and results.