I got a date!

with 1770 miles of interstate. It took about 24 hours to get here. It looks like it will be 24 to get back. See you on the other side.

Depressing?

So my sister says my blog is too depressing? Wow, can you believe that? Huwhoah! I mean, com'on now.

So she doesn't read it. Yeah, I know. I don't get too many visitors but that's okay. I have been looking through what I have written and it is pretty neat - even if it is depressing. This is the longest I have ever done a journal. And anonymously if somebody wants to read it who cares. It's out there for the big Guy and everybody to see.

So I drive to Atlanta. It is almost 2000 miles from where I live. The reason I came out here is to see my dad and her as well. But, ya know, I am two weeks off a divorce. And, Hey! it's christmas, ho, ho, ho, ha, ha, ha, and all that stuff. Time to be close with loved ones and so on and so forth.

I am really trying not to be cynical. I mean I am. Yes I want to spend the time with loved ones, you know like my dad, sister, and brother in law and even my neices if I can fit it in. However, I am not in the mood for big "happy" family get togethers. Yes I do say happy cynically. I am sure many people can relate! In fact, I just read a post about a "happy" family get together.

Anyway, I am about 200 miles out and she lays it on me that she has another family living here at the house. Okay, well that's not so bad accept for the fact that the husband guy person, ribbed the shit out of me about my "problem." two years ago when my wife, kids, and family were out here. This guy was also party dude cigarette in one hand six pack in the other. Doesn't bother to take the can of beer out of the six pack ring. This is right out of the movie "Vacation." This is two years ago. I did not peg the guy for being a "family man" ya know?

Not that I know how to deal with that kind of thing now, but back then, there is no way I could deal with it. And it showed. I said something stupid to my sister. I was making fun of her or something like that. My brother-in-law called me on it. The wave of shame swept over me like something that really sweeps over stuff. And then the anger and then the rage and then blamo - another christmas down the toilet.

So, two weeks on the heals of a divorce, christmas time, and cousin Eddie waiting for me at the homestead. One two hundred miles miles out she tells me, oh yeah, by the way. . .

Gravitational Tug

Escaped the gravitational tug I encountered on the way out here. The tug comes from a variety of establishments that advertise along I-40. It is awful that the tug is there. I guess I am not there yet.

I had a dream

Had a dream last night, of course it was about my wife okay ex-fucking-wife. I was invited to a party at her friends' "chris and sara's" They lived in this big glitzy house In the dream the third floor of their house was a complete library. I am sure this is something to which they aspire. Every one was dressed in black and maroon. (maroon tops with black pants) Most people didn't know me. In fact, I never saw chris or sara (When I make amends to them, will I have to say that I am sorry for never capitalizing the first letters of their names when defaming them when writing about them? I don't like them very much. They reciprocate the same sentiment I am sure.) Any way at one point we were in this gargantuan palace like livingroom. (chris and sara aspire to have things and things that are status symbols like mercedies benz, big houses, kids going to not necessarily good schools but prestigious schools, you know? all that kind of crap. I am, have been, probably will be guilty of that too. I just hope not as much.) Eminence Front it's a put on. Listening to this as I write. Hey is this a randomn stream of consciousness or what!?

Anyway, as I said we're all dressed in black and marroon and get this!, I'm wearin' my hat, my german bavarian fadora type hat and I am kickin' ass and taken' names if one is capable of doing that in recovery mode. I am confident. I am adult. I am REAL.

So we're in the palacial livingroom and sitting on the floor in kind of a circle in our bare feet. Ronda is there. She is somewhere in the circle but I don't see her, but in my dream I just know she is there. The circle is kind of tight. There is a woman. She's a knockout. She completely reaks with sexual,. . . sexual, . . . sexual something,. . .sexual energy that's it. Her sexual energy fills the room. She sits across from me. And it was like I was willing her to make a pass at me. (This is so not me. I hide from women like this. They terrify me.) She moves closer to the center of the circle and then right out in front of God and everybody she takes her feet and starts rubbing mine and then!...... and then!..... she starts moving her feet up one of my pant legs. This is killer for me. If a woman were to do this to me I would be dead meat. This is kind of like superman's kryptonite. I am not putty in her hands; I am liquid in her hands - well a kind of viscous liquid like honey or syrup.

The next thing she and I are in a bath tub - no water though? Is that wierd or what? I mean this dream was kind of making some sense up to this point. We do all the things I think I would like to do when in this type of situation of which I have never been. There is nothing of graphic nature in the dream. Just knowledge of.

After the act (typical after sex scene but in empty bath tub) this beautiful woman starts telling me all the things she feels are wrong with her. At that point in the dream I see that she is an older woman around my age. Her signs of age show but she is still stunning. In fact in the dream I remember thinking that these traits of which she talked made her even more attractive. These things made her real! I love real and can fall in love with real. (I think.)

I am back at the chris and sara mansion. R- is there. I see her. we talk. I forget what she said right now but it was something inflamitory. It could have been that I saw her being intimate with chris. Chris is kind of like my Lex Luther (superman's arch enemy) I don't think it had anything to do with the "other woman" although at this point in the dream I remember thinking about what had just happened with the other woman and feeling real good about.

And then, and here is where the dream becomes a nightmare, I say to her, "That's right R-. That's right, Build that resentment. Nurture it. Treat it like a garden. Work in it like you would work in a garden. Grow it. Spread fertilizer on it as necessary. And then, after a long hard day in your garden of resentment, why don't you sit down and crack open a nice cold one. Okay, maybe you are too good for that, how 'bout uncorking vintage bottle of chianti. I mean after all you deserve it. Oh, and also you should probably have a cigarette." and then I yell, "You're a fucking alcoholic just like your fucking mother you're gonna die just like your mother. You know that, don't you!" I could see her trying to hide a bottle of wine that she had. And she was pissed. Her face was red.

I remember leaving donned in black hat, maroon shirt. black pants and black shoes.

Then I woke up. I felt awful. I almost felt sick to my stomach. I took a shower, tried to do some things prior to going to work, failed at all of those things and then got in the car and went to work.

Whoa! Dude! Farout. Tripindicular you might be thinking to yourself. Well, I am thinking that to myself. It is funny as I started writing about it I kept remembering more and more detail.

Good morning or well Afternoon

When I came into work this morning it was a sweltering 9 degrees F. I could barely hold the steering wheel because it was so cold. When I went out for lunch the temperature had risen sufficiently that I needed to use airconditioning or drive with the windows down. After a snow here instead of pea gravel on the roads, they use volcanoe cinder gravel which turns into cinder dust. I opted for airconditioning.

I finally had to do it. I broke down and got new shoes for 15 bucks at walmart to replace the shoes I bought on line that were supposed to be double EE for wide feet for about 74 bucks. However, these shoes appearently went the other way as in narrow. I have worn the shoes for about five months only to realize that they just cut off ciculation to my feet. My feet are squished and frozen.

Against the voice in my head, I bought new shoes today. The voice in my head is that of my new ex-wife This voice also comes with an image. The image and voice are that of her giving me a stern look and saying, "I told you not to buy clothing on the web. Look how much money you just wasted!"

Yup she was right. I guess some of this comes from pride as well but I still see her furrowed brows accenuating her frown of disapproval of the terrible awful thing that just happened. I had to buy new fucking shoes again! I am not married to her anymore.

Thank you God and so it is!

I just got in from a 700 mile (actually 1400 round trip) drive to Denver to see my boys. It was a good time. I slept in my truck on the way there and then on the way back. It was better than I thought.

I really like driving for some reason. It is really quite therapeutic. I do a lot of thinking and sorting. Good time to connect with God.

8:17 am Fryday

Took some aspirin, took last two sinus tablets that I got in Deutschland, just about done with my coffee. All drugged up and ready to work!

1:30 Thursday.

At one thirty in the afternoon last thursday my divorce hearing began. At 1:49 am, exactly 65 days, and 3 hours to the minute after the attack on Pearl Harbor began, the marriage to my wife ended - according to a show I saw on the history channel later that day. Wikipedia say it happen at 7:53 am Hawia'i local time which is 10:53 our local time - instead of 7:49/10:49.

I don't think there is a bit of significance to that 65 years and 3 hours. As I was writing the preceding sentence, it occured to me that there is no significance to that divorce hearing (my marriage ending.). Wow! There is no significance to it. Now there's a thought.

There is significance to the night of Nov. 22, '05 which resulted in what took place in my life on Dec. 7th, 2006.

Four in the Mourning

I got home from dinner with some friends. It's cold on the hill right now. It doesn't get much above 20 degrees these days. It seems colder and cold has a real "bite" to it this year for some reason. I laid down on my bed and played my guitar until I drifted into sleep. Just as I was drifting off I woke up with a jerk and took my guitar off my chest and put it to the side.

Now, I was awake again. This is the problem with using the guitar to put me to sleep at night. I grabbed the guitar by the neck again and swung it back over my chest. I started playing the last two strings of "D" and then e minor in kind of a picking and strumming alternating pattern. The sound of the chord progression and the syncopation of the picking and the strumming produced a kind of sad yet matter of fact kind of atmosphere. As in, "This is the way it has to be, everything must come to an end." sort of thing.

As I listened to the sound I was making, a vision, I think one put there by my higher power, of my wife asleep, peacefully asleep back in Boulder came to my head. I seemed explode in tears. I still kept them bottled up. My chest heaved in and out and my closed eyes filled with tears as I push air out my nose. I could feel the guitar bounce up and down on my chest as I continued playing my little song.

The wave of grief passed and I began to feel drowsy. I put the guitar back to the side and this time was able to go to sleep. I went through the usual course of dreams where I am in my underware at work and then I awoke to kind of a happy day. The sun was shinning. We seemed to be leaving for somewhere. I don't know where though. My wife was there except she didn't look like my wife. We were in kind of a living room type of area similar to an first floor appartment type living room with a sliding glass door.

In addition to leaving, she was getting ready for something and I was too. All of the sudden there was a really loud crack of thunder. She quickly opened up the sliding glass door and ran outside as if she was running to the car. The rain fell in really big dropplets and immediately soaked her close. She quickly took off her top revealing a black kind of blouse thing.

Then, as if in a video tape that had been spliced, all the rain had stopped and the she had a black dress; a casual black dress. She was still in her blouse and baggie pants that she had been wearing but she had this dress and started to put it on. As it came down over her head before it came to hang from her shoulders could tell she was going to look very good in it.

Somebody asked her something and it was either the person asking the question or the or it was in her response but I heard the word "date". I had to ask! "What did you say? Are you going on a date?"

Her response was clear and in a kind of "No duh!" replay, she said, Yeah! Of course! Why? And I realized what we were getting ready for and where we were going. We were getting ready for our divorce and we were going to go to it like it was some type of formal event like a . . .
"Wedding!" I then knew inside this dream I was in that we were going to go to this thing together but we were not going to leave together.

I remember her saying, "Yes, I met your "Ref." as in referee. At the time, in the dream, I think I was thinking coach. But she clearly said "Ref"?????

Anyway, she said "Yes, I met your "Ref." and we kind of hit it off and we are going on date. Then she turned, looked at me and said, "Nya Nya! Hey! we're not going to be married after this!"

I woke up breathing heavy. I started to process what had just happened and started to understand it to be a dream. I felt a little relieved but still shaken - really shaken.

I grabbed the guitar by the neck swung it back over my chest and started to play my little song again and drifted back to sleep.

Don't Give Up.