Dear Wendy
Dear Wendy

updatesIt’s time again for “Dear Wendy Updates,” a feature where people I’ve given advice to in the past let us know whether they followed the advice and how they’re doing now. Today we hear from “Invested,” who had invested $80K into helping his girlfriend maintain her lifestyle. She then asked him to buy a house for her and her mother and sister. He said he could not afford to pay for an entire house but could contribute $120K, which she thought was not enough. The LW writes: “I offered her a solution: I could pay for a rental apartment for her for one year, and when she finishes her school, we would marry and then move into a house. Now she has cut me off, and she is saying nothing but nasty things about what kind of man I am.

I’m very hurt. I’m actually thinking of seeking a lawyer and suing her for the money and support I have given her these past five years.”

Find out where they stand now:

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Kavanaugh Vs. Women

Like many of you, I have been infuriated by the reaction to Christine Blasey Ford’s allegation that Brett Kavanaugh sexually assaulted her at a party when he was 17, from people claiming she’s making it up for attention or a political diversion to those saying it shouldn’t matter that it happened because it was so long ago and Kavanaugh was only 17 and he was drunk, as if a 17-year-old’s behavior is never a reflection of his character or core self. “Infuriated” isn’t even a strong enough word. I’ve been so sick about it that I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s directly tied to my getting Shingles. Honestly.
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Happy weekend, and happy FALL! I have had a rollercoaster start to the new season, getting diagnosed with SHINGLES yesterday after a few days of burning, tingling pain and then waking up yesterday with the telltale rash. I’ve never had shingles before and didn’t know much about it, but when the pain started last Sunday, I immediately thought it might be shingles, because this is one of those things where the physical sensation truly feels like the word sounds. Shingles! I mean, doesn’t that just make you think of tingly, burning, pins-and-needles pain? So, when I got the rash yesterday — which is on my butt, you guys, though the pain is more extensive — I made an appointment with a doctor to confirm and get on meds right away because I knew enough to know you want to attack it quickly before it spreads and gets worse.

My own doctor was booked so I got a new-to-me doctor, and as soon as she walked into the room, she was like, “Oh, you’re a mom from school!” And then I was like, “Oh! That’s why you look familiar! Wanna see a rash on my butt?” And then I pulled down my pants and she confirmed it was Shingles and said she was impressed I’d diagnosed myself so quickly and should pay myself the co-pay (which, actually, sounds like a great idea, right? Like, if patients can correctly self-diagnose their ailments, their co-pays should be waived. It could get people to the doctor who may otherwise suffer without necessary medications, and it would save doctors from wasting time looking up various symptoms on Google). I’d suggest the idea to Congress — since they’re so proactive with healthcare — but it seems they have other things on their plate at the moment.

Anyway, after I got my diagnosis confirmed, I rushed home to quickly freshen up, give the kids some shingles hugs (don’t worry – they’ve had chicken pox vaccinations!), and head out with Drew to see Paul Simon, whose finale tour wraps up tonight. I’ve seen him twice before and both shows were fantastic, and last night was maybe even more so. He and his band played and played and played — for about three hours with no break — and it all sounded so great and nostalgic and perfect. In our taxi ride home, NYC was twinkly and magical and showing off, and it was the best night, despite the shingles.

This morning, just at the break of dawn, my mother called. I saw the name on my caller Id and immediately knew why she was calling. My dear, sweet, beloved grandmother — the last of my living grandparents — has passed away, several weeks after being moved to nursing home hospice care. I have more to say about her, but for now I am thinking of the birthday card she sent me a couple weeks ago, her very last correspondence to me. She was so weak at that point, she could only write one word herself: “Love.” My aunt finished the message: “Love Grandma Always.”

I always have and I always will. Rest in Peace, Grandma Betty. I’m going to miss you so much.

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Friday Links

Here are a few things from around the web that may interest you:

Dr. Christine Blasey Ford is being victimized all over again after coming forward with sexual assault allegations against Supreme Court nominee Brett Kavanaugh. Her entire life is now on full display, her home has been made unsafe, and she’s been forced to go into hiding with her children. Her career and life have been subject to endless speculation and public smears for the past week, with no end in sight.

This is exactly why women don’t report sexual assault.

— What’s Happening To Christine Blasey Ford Is Why Women Don’t Report Sexual Assault

Between Brock Turner and Brett Kavanaugh, when do girls matter?

We’re Sexual Misconduct Law Experts. The Senate’s Brett Kavanaugh Investigation Is a Hot Mess

“She wondered: If science could map the sources of love in her brain, could it somehow make that love go away?” — This Rapper Tried To Use Neuroscience To Get Over Her Ex

Some affirmation for my fellow parents: “Throw Your Children’s Art Away. Childhood is short-lived. It’s okay if kids’ drawings are, too.”

Thank you to those who submitted links for me to include. If you see something around the web you think DW readers would appreciate, please send me a link to [email protected] and, if it’s a fit, I’ll include it in Friday’s round-up. Thanks!

Follow along on Facebook, and Instagram.

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I am a 63-year-old woman and I have been talking to a young guy online (he is 38). We live within 20 minutes of each other, but we have never met up. My policy is two weeks of texting and then plan to meet up. Well, two months later, we’re still texting and haven’t yet met. In the beginning, our conversations were excellent; I even told him that he is quite the smooth talker. Now the conversation has turned to basically nothing but sexual in nature. He is wanting very explicit videos/pics. I told him twice I do not feel comfortable sending those. I told that him if he needs/wants to see that, then meet up with me. His answers are always the same: “Oh, we are going to as soon as I get back” (he’s been out of state on a business trip). I know from the pics he has posted on his Facebook that he is where he says he is. I also told him I do not want a texting relationship.

Now for my question: is it his age, or my age? Is he just a smooth talker? My gut tells me to get rid of him because he has no respect for me. I am at a total loss. I remember telling him in the very beginning that he was way too young for me, but one thing led to another, with the exchange of numbers, adding to Facebook, etc. Any suggestions or advice? — The Older Woman

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