Marcia

I read a post earlier today about some woman who wants to date again.  She says that she is going to date lots of different guys so she doesn't get fixated on one guy.  This is actually the healthy thing to do.  This of course is the thing I don't do.  I guess when I think about it I did go on match dot fucking com before Wendy and I dated.  I mean it was the craziness of match dot com that told me Wendy was pretty much "it."

Uh,

Yeah,

I am going to date. . . uhg.

No I'm not.

And yes, I am fixated on Marcia.  Mar See' Uh.

By the way, I have another blog I am writing now on what's going on with me with regard to me mentally after Wendy's passing.  I elude to the crazy thinking but don't write about it directly.  That's what this blog is for.

Last week we got a lot of snow.  For about two days I was wishing I was dead and contemplating suicide.  I really hope the fuck that Myra44 didn't do that.  Which is of course why even though I contemplated it, it's not even close to an option for me.  That's weird.  I just thought of that.  I mean I wouldn't want Myra to do it which impacts my thinking.

So I was in this funk on Tuesday and Wednesday and then on Thursday I go see Marcia.  I was looking forward to it of course.  I see Marcia for acupuncture.  I just thought about it but she reminds me of Wendy Wayman, a writing instructor who I was kind of infatuated with when I was a freshman in college.  As if you couldn't tell I pretty much suck at writing which is why I had to take remedial remedial writing during my freshman year of college.  She was my remedial remedial writing instructor.  She really actually liked what I wrote.  I got an A.  I also got A's in remedial writing, and writing 101 so suck it. Miss Rohr.  Miss Rohr gave me an F- (I shit you not, an F-) on my senior term paper in high school. (An F-, Really? Seriously?)  Oh yes, and I also got an A in technical writing my senior year in college  Once again, suck it Miss Rohr.  Hmmm Wendy Wayman, another Wendy in my life.

So Wendy Waymen had this bohemian kind of hippy thing but yet was sort of conservative meaning she dressed and carried herself conservatively.  I am not sure about her political beliefs.  Those don't matter I subscribe to none. I mean, I do have political beliefs but one can not label them one way or the other.

I said all that to say Marcia reminds me of Wendy Waymen or Wendy Wayman in that she has this bohemian hippy kind of thing about her which I find attractive.

"Geeze Floyd, your wife's been gone for what, one month and four days and your obsessing about another women.  Don't you think that is kind of sociopathic.  just sayin'." 

Yeah, I know,  I wonder about that but guess what?  It takes away me contemplating suicide.  It gives me hope that something else might be out there for me one day.  Not today mind you but one day. So fuck you.

By the way I have conversations with myself all the time.  That was just one of them.

So at the Acupuncture appointment a number of things happened.

1. I told her that coming to see her was the high light of my week right after I told her that Wendy and I attended the same meeting back in 2006 when my life was a shambles and that meeting was the high light of my week.   I now know why I said this.  I said this to give her some information.  The information being: I like seeing her.  Yes the acupuncture is okay.  She rubs my back and shoulders as she's doing it and it is heaven. But I also like seeing her. I actually do not see her physically because my face is usually in the face cradle with eyes closed or facing directly up at the ceiling with my eyes closed.  I do not look at the needles - ever!  I do see her before and after.  She is my age and is easy on the eyes.  I like being with her.  I hope she received that information.  The reason is that if she did and if she is savvy then she will either do one of two things - I think.  One is she will think to herself, he is in a vulnerable position and I do not want to make any advances where he might want "more" from me. Two is she will think to herself, I like him and would like to spend more time with him.  I care for him and his welfare and maybe, just maybe down the road we could spend more time together. . . There are all kinds of other options I know but. . 
2. I told her I had stopped knitting because I have no one to knit for.  She later said if there are any socks that Wendy wore that I knitted for her she would love to have them.  I told her I was in the process of knitting to pair.  I was almost finished with both of them and I would love to finish them for her - a little more information sent.   I think I will give her a pair that Wendy actually wore.  As I think about it she would like to have something from Wendy really.
3. She gave me a book she really liked.  The title is, "The People of the Book" It is about the Haggadah which I know to be read at the Jewish Seder.  It tells the story of the deliverance of the Jewish people to Israel.  She thought that since Wendy was Jewish, I might be interested in reading it
4. She invited me to go to restorative yoga with her and her "friend" Dean on Thursday's at 7.
5. She gave me all kinds of recipes and things to get at Natural Grocers to eat more healthy. 

Point here being, She talked to me a lot. Oh yes, and because of the snow, she called me using her cell phone to see if I was still planning on making the appointment.

Oh, I am just reading into everything now aren't I.  I know this is a set up.

However, if you look back in this blog you will see me write about Carrie.  This is back in 2006 and 2007.  Nothing ever came of it but it was a distraction and kept me from loosing hope.  It kind of kept my morale up.

I am actually going to that same meeting tonight.  It is Sunday night.  There is a young woman that attends.  Her name is Nicole.  I have caught her looking at me and from time to time out of the blue she has said, "Hi Floyd."  She wants me.  Just kidding. I am actually not conceited like that.  Although, I like to allow my mind to run with it a bit and have some fun which in actuality is what I am doing with Marcia.

It has been a rough day.  I have been reminded of Wendy.  Worse, I have been reminded that she is not here and I am tired of crying.  It actually gets painful after a while.  So for all you judgmental pricks out there, of which I AM ONE, Fuck you!

That's the way it is in my head Jan 10 2015

Words support like bone

Dreaming of Mercy.

Mercy Street.

Nowhere in the corridors of pale green and grey

Nowhere in the suburbs

In the cold light of day

There in the midst of it so alive and alone

Words support like bone

Dreaming of Mercy Street

Wear your inside out

Looking for mercy

Some more on "The Wreckage"

I like the wreckage analogy.  I continue to feel worse. Everyday seems a little worse than the one before. I told my massage therapist today that it feels like the plane crashed into the building on December 6th.  Right now the fire is raging weakening the beams and girders inside.  The building will be coming down.  I think it has to if I am going to be able rebuild. So we haven't quite achieved wreckage.

I sit in the rocking chair.  Actually it's the glider. It's the glider where she nursed her children. On the piano I can see the back of our wedding album.  It has a picture of Wendy and me and a caption that says, "The Journey Begins"  Okay yeah I'm crying.  I can barely see what I am typing.  I am wondering, did the journey end on December 6th.  No,  It did not end.  It is still going. I am still on it and she's still with me.

I am supposed to go to Buffalo Park with Nancy tomorrow.  No nothing is going to happen.  No Fucking way.  Of course I have my fantasies.  They get me out of the pain of seeing the two of us and now the two of us in physical form is no longer.  That is the pain.  The little Rocky and Bullwinkle show I got going on in my head takes that pain away.

Back to the Junk Yard

Not a very good title for a post, is it?

Anyway I continue to sort through this.  Back in 2011 was when it all became real for me.   I think earlier that year we had what will forever be known as the "Gas Incident"  That would have been on Feb 14 of 2011.  It could have been 2010 but I really think it was 2011. (must investigate)  Most likely 2011.   The kids came down in 2012.

That summer she was working at North Country in Winslow.  On her last day she sneezed real hard and broke one of her ribs.  I think it was around the end of July.  What was going on would become apparent on December 8th of 2011.  Hmmm, gas incident in Feb ending with cancer diagnosis in Dec. - kind of a sucky year.  I caught December 8th closer to the event in this entry.

So I guess it kind of started end of July?

So my brother-in-law just talked about a webcam that he uses to monitor his mom's home because his mom kind of needs to be watched.  I was interested in a webcam to watch the front of the garage because I can't see what is out there from the house.  I have to go to the garage and open up the garage door to see what is out there.  So I just went and looked up webcam. Not good, Not good for someone like me.

Just trying to think back to that time. At that time Wendy was my girlfriend.  I was still basically living at Alyson's. However, after December of 2011, I basically moved into her house.

Digging around in the Wreckage.

Well, I guess that is about all I can do now. I wonder what happened to Myra44.  You out there?  I am back out here.  We walked along on the path for a while then she left.  Don't know what happened.  Think I got too positive.

Anyway, think I'll just keep digging to see if I can find anything.

[Starts to dig; Talks while digging - actually not really digging so much as moving debris out of the way]
Once again, I am surrounded by the wreckage.  This time, I'd like to think I did not cause this. I certainly had a part in it in that I got on the train knowing full well where it might be headed.  But you know what, nothing would have or would keep me off that train.  Knowing how the trip went and the time I had, I'd do it again.

Ya know there still is wreckage from ten years ago out here.  Just remnants though.  See there.  [points to a scrap piece of metal on the floor] that one belonged to Myra.  [Stops, reflects] Yeah, I was still creating some to wreckage back then.

Yeah, she's gone. Just traces that's all.

[Stops, looks at camera.]
Anyway, I am just trying to sort things out. I started by reviewing the time line.  I think when I look at the whole thing in a clinical manner, it just doesn't hurt as much.  So I tried to map a little bit of it out in the previous post.  Just sorting out the pieces, putting similar pieces together in their only little areas kind of like a jigsaw puzzle, ya know?  I don't know why that would help but it seemed to make me feel better.

So I am recording it all here, just like I did before.  That's what made me think of Myra.  She was cute and I was hurt and I fell.  She liked this firefighter dude but was married.  I would obsess about her for a little bit but really not too much.  I mean thinking about her took me out of the pain for a while.  I mean, when I was looking at her, I wasn't looking at the wreckage.  Then she left.  Hmmm, I wonder if there is anything in there about the "Sunday night girl."

Yup! found her but not under "Sunday night girl"  That was what I called her when I was talking with Tara or would go to the SLAA meetings.  "Sunday night girl" was code for Carrie.  Still don't know her last name.  I talked about her in meetings even when Wendy was there.  At the time figured I'd never be in a relationship with her, Wendy that is.

I am going through this blog like a junkyard.  Picking up pieces and looking at them - trying to remember.  The pieces are memories, memories made a bit more clear because the memories are in writing.  So, I hope the metaphor isn't too cryptic.

Back to the Junk Yard.

Just the Facts Mam. . .

The last entry in this blog was April 23 of this year 2015. This is when things started really getting serious regarding Wendy’s illness.   She, I think, had just had her first thoracentesis.  It was before my kids were here.  Looking back at through my pictures it would have had to have been on April 12th.

Let’s see. . .

Her mom’s unveiling was on March 20th

Her mom died April 16th of 2014.

Wendy lived 1 year and 8 months longer than her mother.

Today is December 30, 2015.  Wendy died on December 6th.

I’m just trying to put together a time line here. I am also trying to go through the memories for some reason.  Why am I doing this?  I guess just for something to do?  Don’t know.

The oxygen, came in a couple days later.  It would never leave until December 6th.

I think what I might be trying to do is re-live that time so that I can continue to be with her.  It is a way of not letting go. . . Why the fuck didn’t I take more pictures!?  of her!

On May 7th she had her first Chemo treatment.  Up until this point, she was taking an oral form of Chemo-therapy called Xeloda (Zeloda)  She started this in December of 2014.  By February she was having serious problems with her skin on her hands but primarily on her feet.  She was getting really bad sores on the backs of her ankles (Achilles Tendon)  I am thinking she stopped the Xeloda near the end of February or beginning of March and was off of it for about a month.  She restarted it at a lower dose for two weeks when the oncologist said it was time to start “real” chemo-therapy.  So on May 7th we started abraxane a form of paclitaxel.  Wish I had been taking notes.

On the 10th of May none of the pictures I took indicate oxygen at home.  On the 16th of May, the day of Leo’s and Amanda’s wedding, the oxygen concentrator is shown in the living room.  And I do remember taking the bottles with us to the wedding but we did not take them in.  At least the pictures do not indicate this.

The last entry in this blog was April 23 of this year 2015. This is when things started really getting serious regarding Wendy's illness.   She, I think, had just had her first thoracentesis.  It was before my kids were here.  Looking back at through my pictures it would have had to have been on April 12th.

Let's see. . .

Her mom's unveiling was on March 20th

Her mom died April 16th of 2014.

Wendy lived 1 year and 8 months longer than her mother.

Today is December 30, 2015.  Wendy died on December 6th.

I'm just trying to put together a time line here. I am also trying to go through the memories for some reason.  Why am I doing this?  I guess just for something to do?  Don't know.

The oxygen, came in a couple days later.  It would never leave until December 6th.

I think what I might be trying to do is re-live that time so that I can continue to be with her.  It is a way of not letting go. . . Why the fuck didn't I take more pictures!?  of her!

On May 7th she had her first Chemo treatment.  Up until this point, she was taking an oral form of Chemo-therapy called Xeloda (Zeloda)  She started this in December of 2014.  By February she was having serious problems with her skin on her hands but primarily on her feet.  She was getting really bad sores on the backs of her ankles (Achilles Tendon)  I am thinking she stopped the Xeloda near the end of February or beginning of March and was off of it for about a month.  She restarted it at a lower dose for two weeks when the oncologist said it was time to start "real" chemo-therapy.  So on May 7th we started abraxane a form of paclitaxel.  Wish I had been taking notes.

On the 10th of May none of the pictures I took indicate oxygen at home.  On the 16th of May, the day of Leo's and Amanda's wedding, the oxygen concentrator is shown in the living room.  And I do remember taking the bottles with us to the wedding but we did not take them in.  At least the pictures do not indicate this.

At this point we were still at the local oncology center.

Just Keep Swimming

Pronounced mar-see’-uh.  I seem to be a bit obsessed with her.  She is my acupuncturist.    I have all these fantasies about her – very few of them of a sexual nature.   (This could be love addiction.}   Anyway, the obsession takes away the pain – takes away the void. . .   So I find myself thinking about her.  I think about going to Avila beach with her. This is because she knows that Wendy and I went to Avila beach on our anniversary.

Yes, Wendy I know you know all this already because you are inside my head now.   But you are not here and I really don’t want to deal with that fact.

So anyway, I go to see her and she asks a couple of questions about it like where exactly it is located, how did we like it, and some other questions.  Then she says she looked it up on the internet.  And thought it looked like a really nice place and that she’s like to go there sometime.  This is why Wendy was living.  I immediately think, that’d be great! You and I could go there. Then I think about us on the beach, me just staring out at the ocean, her maybe reading a book.  Idly conversing about the ocean, about life, quiet and gentle – no cares other than what we might have for dinner that evening.

What a distraction. Here is a little victim hood for you, “Why couldn’t I have had this with Wendy?”

I want to have this and I want to have it now!!!  my brain tells me.

“No. no. no. you are not allowed to have this.  This kind of thing is for other people now. Your days of female companionship, idly conversing about this or that, deciding what to have for dinner, and then making love are over.”  What a desolate fucking life. . “Cardboard, extra dry.  is the only thing on the menu.”

I want! I want! I want!. . .

“Well maybe this. . .  How ’bout. we leave out the sex  Okay, how bout we just go to Avila Beach, we get separate rooms, you do your thing, I’ll do mine, we have dinner together maybe lunch, who knows, maybe breakfast as well.   Maybe we go for walks together. . . maybe, maybe, maybe. . .”

Anything just to stay out of the pain a little.

So I’m on the table all loaded up with needles.  She is so wonderfully massaging my back, shoulders, and neck as the electro-stim is going.  And she’s saying:

“Well, I was down at my “friend’s” house in Kachina and we were out on his deck.”

In my head, “his.  his.  his.  Geeze, he has a deck.”

She continues, “Yeah, I like it down there in Kachina,  I just want to be out of the city.  You know all couped up in the neighborhoods and stuff.”

Back in my head, “Yup sounds like this friend has a really nice place. . . .  Hmmm, my place, a couped up neighborhood, no deck, hell, no back yard for that matter. – never-mind.  Hmmm, but she only said “friend” not boy friend, or this guy I’m seeing.  Of course, I am sure next time we talk things will have gotten serious, her “friend” will have asked her to marry him. . . .  Fuck, it’s hopeless.”

Yeah, Wendy,  see this.  What a joke. . . . what a joke. . .

It’s okay, just keep swimming, just keep swimming.

Wendy's Dentist's appt. on Nov 25th 2015

This post is being written 2 years and 1 day after the date shown. (10/31/2017)

We went to CTCA for the last time today.  It was kind of a big day.  She was going to tell the doctor that she was not going to do anymore chem and she felt like she was going to be "going it alone."  She was afraid I wouldn't support her.  I support her.  We had our heart to heart sort of over two weeks ago on our 3rd wedding anniversary.  I told her that I realized that she was not going to get better and that I was accepting the end.  Not only was she surprised to hear this; She was relieved as well.  I was surprised she was relieved.  I was also surprised that she still thought that I thought she would get cured or that I thought she could be treated such that the disease would go back into remission.  I didn't want to give up hope but I had to be realistic.

She explained to the doctor she didn't want to continue with chemo anymore.  The doctor then countered with, "I don't think it is worth it to continue with the chemo. You should work on enjoying life as much as possible."  Something to that effect.  Wendy then asked about a dental appt on the 24th of November.  She asked if it would be safe for the dentist or dental hygienist to work on her gums.  When undergoing chemo therapy the gums become very sensitive to damage and can get infected easily.  The doctor responded by telling her that she really wouldn't need a dental appt on the 24th.  The following are two videos of that day.

The beginning of the day

The end of the day

This was our last trip to CTCA (Cancer Treatment Centers of America)

Chemo

First chemo was last Thursday.  It was a horrible day but not as horrible as Sunday.

Sunday of course was mother’s day.  These days holidays and especially mother’s day highlights the fact that my wife has cancer.  The chemo started taking effect on Saturday as expected but kicked into high gear Sunday morning.

The day started out okay.  I went to meet my wife’s friend. I am sort of sponsoring her.  She is one of my wife’s best friends and we meet on Sunday mornings because I kind of have some experience with what she is going through.  We had a good meeting.  What actually ended up happening was she ended up supporting me.  I went home to get my wife and as I was waiting for her and watching her deal with her exhaustion and fatigue from the Chemo are started to get a little angry.

We were going out to get presents for her oldest son’s wedding which is this coming weekend.  She was extremely lethargic and watching her get ready tired me out.  We got in the car and headed out to the store and on the way there I said that this would have to be the last time we were going to be doing something for somebody else or rather this should be the last time she should be doing this kind of thing for someone else as it is just too taxing for her.  They originally wanted her to make the rehearsal dinner and set up and all that stuff.  They were understanding (son and fiancee) that she couldn’t because of the chemo. Anyway I went on to say that she should tell whomever you are required to give gifts perform certain services “If you can’t accept that I cannot get you x, y, or z or do x, y, or z for you then this is where our “paths” separate.”

She interpreted this as me telling her that if she didn’t do what I was telling her to do then I was going to leaver her.  She interpreted it a threat. . . She was completely devastated.

I had, as I often do, left out the part, “You should tell them. . . ”  and all she heard was, “If you can’t accept this then this is where our “paths” separate.”  She said, Floyd, I can’t believe you just said that to me”.  I didn’t understand.  Finally she went on to say I can’t believe I have been threatened like that.   I had to think, “Threatened, how did she feel threatened?”  Then I realized.

It took me five minutes to tell her that is not what I meant and I kind of left out a very important part of the sentence. . . uhg.

Now, I keep going back over it and every time I think about the whole progression it makes me feel sick.

‘Are We All Bigots?’

http://blogs.wsj.com/speakeasy/2015/04/29/watch-clip-of-are-we-all-bigots-episode-of-morgan-freemans-through-the-wormhole?mod=e2fb

Yeah, pretty much.

Anniversary

Today this blahg was 9 years old.

Starts with “The Casualties“

Wean Yourself by Rumi

Wean Yourself by Rumi

Little by little, wean yourself.


This is the gist of what I have to say.

From an embryo, whose nourishment comes in the blood,


move to an infant drinking milk,


to a child on solid food,


to a searcher after wisdom,


to a hunter of more invisible game.

Think how it is to have a conversation with an embryo.


You might say, "The world outside is vast and intricate.


There are wheatfields and mountain passes,


and orchards in bloom.

At night there are millions of galaxies, 

and in sunlight
the beauty of friends dancing at a wedding."

You ask the embryo why he, or she, 

stays cooped up
 in the dark with eyes closed.

Listen to the answer.



There is no "other world."


I only know what I've experienced.


You must be hallucinating.


The World Outside

The world outside was beautiful
A beautiful morning.
The start of a new day
People on their way to work
A blue sky
and the light pastel greens of spring

All this

While inside my world was collapsing

This is the gist of what I have to say.
From an embryo, whose nourishment comes in the blood,
move to an infant drinking milk,
to a child on solid food,
to a searcher after wisdom,
to a hunter of more invisible game.
Think how it is to have a conversation with an embryo.
You might say, “The world outside is vast and intricate.
There are wheatfields and mountain passes,
and orchards in bloom.
At night there are millions of galaxies,
and in sunlight
the beauty of friends dancing at a wedding.”

You ask the embryo why he, or she,
stays cooped up
 in the dark with eyes closed.
Listen to the answer.
There is no “other world.”
I only know what I’ve experienced.

You must be hallucinating.

Friday – more thoughts

As usual I am feeling a tremendous amount of anxiety and want to act out.  Yeah, remember, we are coming up on 10 years here.  Not much has changed at least with these fucking obsessive compulsive thoughts.  I got plans in my head in place.  Top choices have been made. Oh God help me. . .  but not too much.  Like don’t cause my car to break down have my bank account be robbed or something awful like that.  Please help me see your will for me.

Like I said not much has changed.  If I were to tell Ronda what is going on in my head she would hate me and not allow me to see my kids. I hate what is going on in my head.  To be perfectly clear, “What is going on in my head” is nothing more than what goes on in any male’s head.  I have a track record of just not dealing well with it.  Still this falls in the bounds of normal behavior, not ideal but normal.  Never the less it’s a nightmare in my head.  I hate this.  I do not want that stuff in my head anymore.  Still, after all these years, the only way I know to be free of it is to do it.

I am still no closer to relief from the obsession.  Every once in a while I think I have an idea of what might be the cause and actually I may be right.  The problem is, is I think the cause is so hardwired into my being that having any type of impact on it is like filling up the ocean (any ocean really, say the pacific) on drop at a second.  I ran the math on this and to have any impact on my “hard wiring” would take  5.18102E+17 years  The Universe is 13.8 billion years old.  So I could possibly have an impact on this in about 37 million, 543 thousand, 608.45 Universe ages from now.  Okay, the time is incomprehensible.  The closest I’ve come at the problem is that this obsession and compulsion is a way to deal with my shame and anxiety and trying to rewire myself to get that shame and anxiety into some type of manageable level, a level where by I don’t cope with it by eating, sexing, drinking, or spending seems somewhat daunting.

At this point, I have no choice but to bring in this thing called a higher power or what some people call God.  A God that loves me.   Uh. . . Yeah. . . Okay. . . This might be somewhat more doable than the time necessary to get rid of my shame and anxiety.

I’m still really fucking scared. . .

.

.

.

of everything.

thoughts on a Thursday morning. . . . .

And if I am not worrying, am enjoying life, am content. . .  and forget to worry, the hammer will drop when I least suspect there by inflicting the maximum amount of damage.

Wear your inside out.

#Hipness and #Multiculturalism

I am not a really hip dude anymore.  I  must hand it to the politically liberal factions of the world that they have being "hip" pretty much sown up.  There is no doubt that when it comes down to being hip they own it.  I mean the conservatives have always been and are totally square man.  When ever they try to come off as "hip" they end up just looking like posers.  It's quite pathetic actually.

Now that we have elected a black president and are on board with gay marriage the world is becoming a much more hip place.  Gay marriage I think is okay. It really is.  I think people are more concerned about it when it comes to money.   Meaning that I can now put my friend on my insurance and so on and so forth.  I mean that is only my guess as to why anybody would really object other than if they are mentally handicapped due to religion - but I digress.

Other hip things might be the Affordable Health Care act.  I think one of the most hippest things was when #Bill_Maher called #Sarah_Palin a #cunt on national TV!  So #hip man!!! I mean he is one hip motherfucker what woman would not want to be called a cunt by Bill -that hip motherfucker- Maher. I mean all the women I know love to hear that word and thought that had to be one of the hippest things they'd ever experienced - as oppose to say, Rush Limbaugh calling some chic a "slut" on the radio.  I mean imagine that, "slut"  that was just heinous.  It's #Bill_Maher, #cunt, on the TV all the way baby!!!

But one of the most hippest things is multiculturalism.  For instance, take the Pakistani men in Rotherham England.  Now these guys are good #Muslim #Islamic dudes doin' what good Muslim/Islamic dudes do which is rape young children.  I mean, as John Candy said in Stripes, "It's regulation."   They were in Italy and the guy that had the top bunk had to make the bottom bunk guy's bed:

Dewey Oxberger:  What are you doing?  No, no... get off.  Get off.  See... you gotta make my bunk.  See, we're in Italy.  The guy on the top bunk, he's gotta make the guy on the bottom's bunk... he's gotta make his bed, all the time.  See, it's in the regulations.  See, if we were in Germany, I'd have to make yours.  But we're in Italy, so you gotta make mine.  [shrugs his shoulders] Regulations.

Same reasoning here. It's simply their culture to rape little children and so on and so forth.

Now, see, I am a parent.  I think for a lot of good and true dutiful liberal "doo bees" (DLDB's) it is important to honor others' cultures.  Hell, I don't know maybe the DLDB's offer their children to go get raped and fucked up the ass.  I mean just think of those wonderful nostalgic memories little Susie will have looking back 30 years from now. . .  "Boy, Mohammad had a really big dick. It kind of hurt and made me bleed. . . And when he defecated. . uh I mean shit and pissed on my face that was. . . well. ."

However, I am guessing and man I am really shootin' from the hip on this one. (uh, . . . I said "hip") that it's probably not that great of an experience for a. . .  well anybody really.  Although there are adults that get into this kind of thing.  So, yeah, we don't want to offend the Pakistani Muslims because well it's just not hip.

I am so totally not hip here.  You guys, yeah well you have that happen to your children.  Of course I know a lot of you guys don't have children and could give a fuck less about other peoples children - "Hey, their young, they'll get over it." But for me, I do not want that happening to my kids.

What is really going on here is that these guys are mentally fucked in the head and they are probably acting out the same horrors that were done to them.  They could, but maybe not, be using religion to sanctify such acts.  Are these behaviors tenets of Islam?  I don't know.  The deal is, is that these guys were allowed to do this because people were afraid of not being viewed as tolerant or maybe they were afraid of being viewed as "racist." who the fuck knows.  The fact is, is that it was "NOT COOL" to make the allegations about these men which were later proven true for 13 years and 1400 children.  I hope that one day, especially for the children of the hipsters, that the raping of children becomes un-hip.  I think I will just be happy not being hip.  I think my kids will appreciate that.

He looked at the pages this morning.  He was surprised at what happened or rather what did not happen.  Actually he was shocked.  The pictures did absolutely nothing for him.  The first ones he saw were just thumbs of naked women.  He opened one of them up.  She had a cute face he thought but the rest of her features were average from the man's point of view.  As he looked at her he realized he could have been looking at a picture of a plant, say, a tree or a mountain.  There was nothing there; no excitement, no tingly sensation in the groin; nothing.

What came out of his entire being at that moment was, "Yeah, . . . So?"  He went back to the thumbs and saw more action oriented images. They did nothing for him.  It did not interest him in the slightest so much so that there was no compulsion to investigate the matter further.  He closed the browser and that was it.

A couple of hours later he went back.  He then noticed the pang of excitement, he noticed a shortness of breath and increased heart rate and yes the slight tingle in the groin. It was there. It may have been gone this morning but now it was back. How disappointing.

#Cancer

If anyone were to watch me they would notice that when I get into work in the morning the first thing I do is make an americano with four shots of espresso.  Then at somepoint they would see me go to the vending machine and get a strawberry poptart, that is, if the vending machine has them.  During the morning they would observe me take two extra strength walgreens head ache relief quick gel caps with acetaminophen, aspirin, and caffeine and three softgel Ibuprofens.  Occasionally one might witness me going to the wash sink near the coffee maker to and drink a 12oz environmentally sustainable disposable insulated cup of water.

I think my wife is dying and I don't know what to do.  It is extremely dark inside my head.

Trip to Ohio

And I wonder why I am so fucked up.

My Dad hoards.  It seems to be very much like an addiction.

Well, all I know is he goes to two Goodwill stores everyday and buys shit.  Like old tupperware containers, knives, lamps, radios, tape recorders, boxes, serving trays, sewing machines, etc.  On and on the list goes.  My dad's house is filled up with this shit.  It's fucking crazy.

My aunt and he kind of had it out while he was there.  I kinda watched.  It sucked.

The real problem started when in early December a valve failed in the lavatory upstairs at his house in northern Ohio.  He was down at his house on the Ohio River and water soaked the upstairs unabated.  It soaked the upstairs until the drywall ceiling became water logged.  The ceiling fell in and the massive amount of stuff, lamps, papers, containers (most of which were empty), tools, furniture, etc. got completely soaked.  The water actually went through to the basement where it collected until he got home and found about a foot of water.

December 8th 2011

Ok, so I have just come through three and a half horrible months.  Starting December 8th of 2011, 11 days after my last post, my girlfriend and I discovered her cancer had been growing in her for the last 5 months.  Actually it was probably growing longer than that.

In July, after a very severe sneeze, she experience a horrible pain in the fourth rib down on her right side.  This had happened to her before so she didn't think to much about it other than she started going seeing a massage therapist.  The therapist relieved some of the pain but in one session when he got a little to aggressive and ended up causing her more pain.  He then referred her to a chiropractor that does "craniosacral therapy."  (whatever that is)  She went to the chiropractor and he was able to relieve her pain quite a bit.

During this period her pain was so great that she could only sit for 15 to 20 minutes at a time.  She either had to be standing up or lying down.  When she would lie down she had to lie down in a particular way otherwise the pain would be really bad.  By October the chiropractor had almost eliminated the pain.  She was hiking and walking as if there was nothing wrong all the way up to December 8th.  In fact, the weekend after December 8th she was shoveling snow.

On December 8th she got a call about an x-ray that turned up positive for "something" in her lungs.  That following Monday she had a CAT scan which showed not only "nodules" in her lungs but some abnormalities with her ribs.  From this they ordered an MRI, Bone Scan, Biopsy and a PET Scan.  That Friday 8 days after the initial contact we were at the hospital getting the biopsy which ultimately determined that is was in fact cancer.  I had scheduled a trip back to Ohio for Christmas.  I cut the trip short to come back to go to the oncologist with her on December 28th.

The trip to Ohio turned out to be quite terrifying.  This was truly shaping up to be one of the worst Christmases I have ever lived through.

Birthday.

Two things I heard yesterday are, If you don't want recovery you won't get it.  The other thing was.  .  .  .  I forget.  .  .

Just got done having a meeting with one of my sponcees.  We meet every Sunday morning at Denny's.  Both he  and I have come to really enjoy meeting.  I mean there is nothing like having coffee and the senior waffle slam and really good conversation.  I have to admit that the conversation is better than many of the conversations that my girl friend and I have.  Of course my girl friend and I are together a lot where as my sponcee and I meet maybe two to three times a month.  So I probably have more conversations with my girl friend that are good.  .  . Well, hopefully you get the point.  I am digressing.

In between the last paragraph and this one, I went to that bad place.  I  am back now which is why I am writing this paragraph.  This dis-ease knows no limits.

Today is my birthday.  It started out with what was probably addictive sex with my girl friend.  She was able to orgasm rather quickly, I on the other hand took some time.  Usually I just quit after it starts taking too long.   Okay, yes I know this is too much information but she got her-gasm;  I wanted my-gasm.  And because it was my birthday I did not stop until I got my-gasm.  We both acknowledged it.  This is actually the way my ex and I always had sex.  We would work on me until I got my-gasm.  Anyway it wasn't very satisfying.  Unfortunately what I did between paragraphs two and three was more satisfying.  Boy, I gotta tell you life really sucks right about now.  This, by the way, just in case you were curious, is not recovery.

Well, I should probably get my shirt tucked in and my fly zipped back up.

There, that's better.  Boy this is going to be next to impossible to read.  In fact, I don't think I will ever get back to reading this again.

The only way we knew to be free of it was to do it.  This is such a precise statement of my condition.  I do it and then afterward there is this feeling of relief; a feeling of well being.  I actually have a feeling of well being after I do this thing.

On top of all this right now as I speak my girl friend's son who is eighteen is adding his own brand of drama to this.  I guess he feels obligated to be here on my birthday.  Either that or he just wants to go out to a restaurant where somebody else will be picking up the tab.  I would be very surprised if he actually ends up paying for any of my lunch.  That is what were supposed to do today; go out to lunch, comeback, and have kind of a little party with chocolate cake.

Anyway her son says he wants to come over from his dad's to have lunch with my girlfriend, her other son, and me.  He also needs to be somewhere else and it looks like this lunch/party is going to interfere with those plans.  Typically when stuff like this happens he starts getting all pissy.  So one scenario is that he will come out with us and his did is going to come over to the restaurant and pick him up.

This would be spec-fucking-tackular.  Sitting there at my birthday lunch and having my girlfriend's ex-husband walk in to pick up her son.  I won't really go into it but to give you a flavor for the relations she has with her ex, she has had to put a restraining order on him from any type of oral communication let.  So they only communicate by e-mail.  Further, because his language is so abusive in the e-mails, she has all of his e-mails forwarded to her cousin in New York City so that she can filter out the abusive/triggering language and relate only essential information.  So having him come in on my birthday lunch would just totally suck.  I mean it is my fucking birthday.

The next thing is him and his pissy behavior.  In the words of the great Wayne  B. he does not suffer well, and he does not suffer alone!  His mood dominates the atmosphere.  I mean it takes over.  It is like standing around high tension wires where you can hear the buzz of electricity and you are just waiting for the lightning to strike.  This is what I grew up with.  I am very sensitive to it and I will be god fucking damned if I will put up with it on my birthday.

It is bad enough that I am turning 48.  I am beyond the half way point in my life.  I am having a hard time seeing, my teeth hurt,  I am growing old.  The next two days at work are going to be stressful.  And, he has to come in and fuck it all up.  Yeah, Yeah, I know he can only fuck it up if I allow him to.   Unfortunately, my brain is predisposed to allowing him to.

We are going to Cocos.  I want to have t-bone steak which is a major no no in my girlfriend's house hold.  So I will have a t-bone steak at the restaurant.  She made a chocolate cake for me which we are going to have when we get back from the restaurant.  She put it in the oven and went to take a shower that was between paragraphs two and three.  She got done with her shower just as the timer was going off for the cake.  Her son called her up and asked if he could be picked up earlier because he has plans; the plans I referred to earlier.  So it looks to me like he is on a time table which puts my birthday on a time table.  I so fucking wish he wasn't coming.  I have half a mind to just leave and be by myself today.

Yesterday, as I was editing the previous post, I went there - to that place.  You know the place I go - the bad place.  I went, as I always do, just to have a peek.  Something different happened this time and I think God came in on this one.  This has actually happened before.  What happened was that I felt an incredible sense of repulsion about what I was doing.  So I left. I went back to editing the post but then the compulsion returned and I went back to that bad place.

I went back but could not do it.  The repulsive feeling displaced the pleasure I normally get out of such an activity. Okay God, I guess that's what I'm talking about when I am asking for you to remove the obsession.  I mean we aren't talking rocket science here!

Okay, Okayo kayo kay, I'm sorry,  I am sure there is probably more to it than I can see.  I guess when the obsession is lifted or when the pleasure I get out of it is removed - then what?  I imagine I am left with the underlying feelings which I do not want to or can not deal with.

Life carries on in the people I meet.

in everyone that's out on the street

in all the dogs and cats

in the flies and rats

in rod and rust

in the ashes and the dust 

It's hard to move on - still loving what's gone.

Flim, Avril 14th, Alberto Balsam, and On were right before Wendy.  I was living in Kachina at the time.  I forget the guy's name.  It was Owain,  he turned me on to Aphex Twin.

She (Ronda) stepped through the portal before me.  She was in the process of stepping through or rather it looked like she was in the process stepping through, when I jumped.  I jumped on November 22, 2005.  To be honest, I don't know if she ever jumped.  In actuality, I only saw her preparing to step through; I never actually saw her take that step.

Unwittingly I had jumped over the edge,  stepped off the cliff, walked through the portal, whatever you want to call it.  I say unwittingly because I didn't know I was doing it at the time.  I think from the view point of an "on looker" it looked like a man going crazy, having a  nervous breakdown, or loosing touch with reality.  As I look back on it now, I was having one massive temper tantrum.  When a two year old has a temper tantrum, it is usually in a crib or high chair.  There is a lot of noise, food may be thrown, dishes flung across the kitchen and most likely the dishes are plastic and the cup is of the "sippy" variety.  When a 41 going on 42 year old man throws a temper tantrum it's an entirely different animal altogether.  Lots of people can end up dead.  We read about it in the papers, see it on the evening news; it happens frequently.  Certainly my temper tantrum endangered me and without thinking it endangered the lives of my three children.  As result, I spent almost 48 hours in a psychiatric hospital.  I went in throwing the most massive temper tantrum of my life; I left with a determination I had not experienced since my first days in college when I was afraid of failing out.

Over and over, the first four minutes of side one of Tubular Bells by Mike Oldfield and the words Constancy of Purpose.  I would set out every morning to go to work and set the disk back to the beginning of track one.  Every four minutes.  When it got to four minutes without even looking or thinking my finger would automatically go to the CD player and press the back arrow button.  Constancy of purpose!  I've got to get this.  I've got to get this down.  Come on Andy.  Lets get this down! .  .  . Now!

All the way into work.  Constancy of purpose and every four minutes, back arrow button on the CD player.  You have got to change!  You have got to change!  Go to the fucking meetings.  Just go to the Goddamn meetings!  Anything not to think about how fucking,.  .  . how absolutely fucking alone I was!

Work was nothing more than a place to go to occupy my mind for eight or so miserable fucking hours.  Anything to take my mind off the pain of being so fucking all alone!  Just look straight ahead and keep moving.  Find every resource you can.

At work I had detailing to do.  That is I had to make the working drawings for the machined parts for the piece of equipment I was designing at the time.  I remember listening to the song "I Grieve" by Peter Gabriel during this time.  Once again, repetitively, but not from the beginning.  I would listen to it once all the way through and then when the song was just about to end I would listen to it from 4 minutes and 45 seconds to the end.

Life carries on

in the people i meet

in everyone that's out on the street

in all the dogs and cats

in the flies and rats

in the rot and the rust

in the ashes and the dust

life carries on and on and on and on

life carries on and on and on

it’s just the car that we ride in

the home we reside in

the face that we hide in

the way we are tied in

life carries on and on and on and on

life carries on and on and on

did i dream this belief?

or did i believe this dream?

now i can find relief

i grieve

I did grieve.

I did detail drawings for about four weeks from November 28th right on through Christmas.  This was fairly mindless work.  Compared to design work it did not require a whole lot of thought so I could bury myself in music while working.  As long as the music was on and I was detailing nothing could get into my mind yet at the same time the music allowed me to feel what was going on.  The music, "I Grieve" expressed the incredible loss I was going through at the time.

All is well for the most part.  My blood pressure has been creeping up over the years and it is probably getting time to do something about it.  I have been riding my bike into work (about a 10 mile ride one way). This does not seem to be helping though.  I think I am going to have to start taking a pill for it. My mom had a problem with high blood pressure so I am kind of sensitive to it.

I had a cornea transplant in 2005 and for some reason it is starting to reject.  Actually, I know the reason.  I was supposed to be putting a drop of anti-rejection stuff (Pred Forte) in my eye once every other week. I kinda forgot for about 3 years.  So I am putting the drops back in and some other stuff and it appears to be on the mend.  I just can't use a contact in that eye for a while. Doing something as trite as putting one eyedrop in once everyother week takes more discipline than one would think.

The kids are doing great.  Alex is a skateboard fanatic and is becoming a guitar fanatic as well.  He is playing songs I wished I could play at his age.  He is not bashful about singing either which I think is really cool.  Adam, is collecting scrap metal and selling it to the scrap metal dealer down in Denver.  All the kids kind of follow what Alex does so Adam went out and bought an electric guitar and amp.  He told me, "Yeah, I had some extra money I did not know what to do with so I bought a guitar and amplifier this weekend."  Rodney is in third grade and is doing well.  He follows what his brothers do so I don't really have any interesting stories here but he is very concerned that I live near "volcanoes" and wants me to vacate the area as soon as I can.  Flagstaff is located in what was a highly volcanic area about a thousand years ago.  I told him the volcanoes were not active.  This piece of information did not have any impact.

Going to a highschool football game

Going out meant you had to be on.  Everybody would be there with something funny and whitty to say.  I was never that person - the funny quick and whitty one.  I was never a "popular guy."  These issues seem to be coming up in my group therapy.

Oh, did I tell you I am back in group therapy.  yeppers.  Anyway that is a topic for another entry.

10 true things

I woke up this morning and really wanted sex.

I met with my sponsee at Denny's this morning.
It was a good talk.
I told him about my indiscretions of yesterday.
The indiscretions of yesterday scare me. They are warning signs.

The dis - ease is less today so I deleted what was here.

Three Years Ago Today

Three years ago today

It was three years ago today Carrie asked if we could be "more than just friends."  We had just got done watching "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind."  I sat in the rocker and she sat on the couch.  It was something we decided to do as friends.  I had come over to do landscaping in the front yard. We were going to watch the movie and then I was going to do the landscaping.

However, after the movie was over she said there was something she needed to tell me.  I thought she was going to tell me that we shouldn't be watching a movie together like this and I should get out there and do the landscaping and in fact I don't even think it is a good idea that you are doing the landscaping.  I want you to leave and I do not want to see you at the Saturday night meeting anymore.

I actually tried to preempt her and tell her that, "Yeah I know I need to be out there doing the landscaping this was nice and everything but I'll go now.  There was a lot more that I said but she kind of cut me off and said, "I probably shouldn't be asking you this and I know I am breaking the rules but would you be interested in being more than just friends."  At the time, we were and still are attending Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous.  We both had been attending the meeting for four years and three days - but who was counting.  In the opening it says, "This is not a place to meet sexual or emotional partners."  When she asked me if I wanted to be more than just friends she was prepared to give up the meeting.  It turns out her birthday is also on the 14th of September.

I was dumbfounded.  The idea of her and I being in a relationship was taboo.  In fact, I wouldn't even acknowledge that I was attracted to her.  I don't refer to her in this blog until a year after we have been together.   The notion just seemed so far out of reach it was ludicrous.  It was about a year prior to us getting together that I did start acknowledgeing to friends that I kind of had a crush on her.  That was probably in the fall of 2007.  I wasn't really writing much in this blog.  My last entry was in Oct of 2007 I think.  I only put in eleven entries in 2008 the last one being in June which was two and half months before the "big day."

I had been on match dot com and oh God did that ever suck.  I just couldn't see my way to being with any of the women on there.  I talked with a couple prospects over the phone, set up times to meet, but  both canceled at the last minute.  I was grateful.  I always kept coming back to Carrie - the woman that was off limits.  I would talk to Frank about her.  I would talk with Jay about her and I would talk with JD about her.

During the fall of 2007 she was working down south and there was this guy that was making "lots" of appointments.  Carrie is an NP by the way.  This guy became known as "Alaska Guy" because he lived in Alaska at various times during the year.  He made a number of overtures to her, would bring in baked goods for her and the staff and finally asked her out on a date I think.  Carrie told him that she would have to "not see him professionally" for at least six months before she would consider going out with him.  He did this and on the first day after the six month wait he called her.  There was some kind of wierd interaction and Carrie called me about this interaction to see how she should interperet it.  This would have been around May of '07.  This also would have been my oportune time to say, "You need to get away from this guy!  He is bad news!  You should spend more time with me!" and so on and so forth.  Instead I told her that the behavior was, in fact, wierd but he may be just trying to save face or something like that.  I did not try to interfere.  What I thought would happen would be that she would get into a relationship with this "Alaska Guy" and then every Saturday night I would have to hear about her trials and tribulations of the relationship with the "Alaska Guy."  

Also at the same time another person, Terrie, in the "Saturday night" group was getting hot and heavy into a relationship and that relationship was becoming quite addictive.  Actually, around the time of  "Alaska Guy" it became addictive enough that Terrie was only making a meeting about once every other month or so.  There were four of us in the Saturday night group, Peter, Terrie, Carrie, and me.  Peter was coming maybe once a month around this time.  So by the summer of 2008 it was just Carrie and me going out afterwards.  The "Saturday night" after the meeting group was becoming less of a group.

It was in May of 2008 that it finally happened where both Peter and Terrie dropped out enough that it left only Carrie and I.  Terrie showed up for the meeting that evening and said she would be leaving half way through because she had some sort of  "spiritual stuff" to do.  I knew exactly what kind of "spiritual stuff" was going on.  To be honest, I think I really did give her the benefit of the doubt but she later came clean and validated my suspicions.  I mean come on!  We are in SLAA and she's getting more and more into this relationship.  Apparently the act of sex when practiced by more enlightened people is "spiritual."  It later turned out that Terrie basically gave up her soul for this "spiritual zen master" who in my opinion knew nothing of Zen.   Okay, I am digressing.  So I knew it was just Carrie and me and came to the realization that I would just go home after the meeting.  But right after Terrie announced she had to leave to go have se.  .  . uh I mean  for her Spiritual EXperience, Carrie asked if I still wanted to go out afterwards.  I said very disinterestedly,  "Yeah, sure I guess - didn't really have anything else going on."  I think I just said, "Okay."  I was kind of giddy.

We went out afterwards.  As we sat down the first words out of my mouth were, "Wow, this feels kind of like a date."  I had no idea what we would talk about and I sort of couldn't wait to get the whole thing over with for fear of the "long awkward silence."  I don't really remember what we talked about but must of managed to come up with something.  Because we found ourselves alone after the meeting a number of times after that.  In fact, we started calling each other in advance to see if the other would be there and available to go out afterwards.

One of the things we talked about was me doing the landscaping which I finally started around July of 2008. I remember going to the Landscape Connection to pick out rock to lay down.  I remember she got a trash bin out front that I raked up all the bark and wood chips that were laid down.  And finally I started spreading the ground cover and laying down the rock.  Which then led up to September 14th of 2008 when she asked if I wanted to be more than just friends.  After a lot of stammering and yammering I finally said, "The answer to that question would be yes."  We then consummated the newly proclaimed "coupledom" with a hug.  A kiss would come two weeks later on a trip to Jerome.

I left her house and went back to Kachina where I was living and told my roommate.  I couldn't believe what  had just happened. I took a shower and then drove back into town for the 6:00 pm meeting at the Quaker meeting house.  Just past the I-40 interchange I took the picture shown at the beginning of this post.  That is how our relationship started.

There is so much more to the story.

 

Gray Day on the Hill

It is a gray day on the hill.  It has been cloudy and rainy for about the last 6 or so days and it is starting to get to me.  I can't really ride my bike.  It kinda sucks.

Okay, how about this.

It was a gray day on the hill, which is a reference the locals use to point out that they live on the highest swell of land in the state.  It is a point of fact that the area is remnants of a super volcano that blew its top similar to Mt St Helens did in the 80's.  The "blowing" took place about a hundred thousand years ago.   The other part about "hill" is that it is around 6000 feet higher than the lowest part of the state which makes it significantly cooler.  While temperatures down in the valley sore to 110 plus degrees, temperatures on the hill might only make it to the mid-seventies.  So it was on this day that it was 103 degrees in the valley and it only made it to 68 up on the hill.  However, it appeared to be gray all over the state.

The day started out with a bang, literally.  Okay, lots of bangs and bright flashes of light.  It all seemed to sound good until he realized that he would not be able to ride his bike into work.  It felt good to sleep in but I wouldn't be able to ride my bike.

Decision

The decision was made to stay here and not go back.  The decision was made on Sunday - two days ago.  This morning I was at my sponsor's house and I got the call for the offer.  I was able to kind of preempt him and tell him that I would not be able to accept any offer and that was it.  It is done.  After seven years I think I finally made the commitment to move to Flagstaff.

This ends roughly seven weeks of agonizing about what I should do.  It was an incredibly hard decision.  It was the most painful decision I have ever had to make in my life.  I wish I could put together the words that could describe how difficult and painful it was but I can't.  I am just not that good with words as you can see from this blog.

Note to self:

Don't make the decision out of fear

Don't make the decision out of fear my sponsee said.  "Know that God will take care of you."  This coming from a guy I am sponsoring.  I should be saying this to him.  Well, the fact of the matter is neither of us are fully committed to the "Know that God will take care of you." thing.  It has just been both of ours experience. We have had experience with God taking care of us.

So he said this to me at breakfast this morning.  I wanted to remember it so I wrote it down on my hand.

I really do not want to move away from Flag Town.  I am completely torn.  I feel like I should move to be with my kids.  The decision is coming up and I will be going through several days of pure hell.

Looking down both roads

and wondering which way to go.  A major cross roads is at hand.  It's been coming and uh coming. It is so anticlimactic!

No matter which decision I make I am going to piss off a number of people.  There is no doubt, I will feel emotional pain.  I could be saying good bye to what I know is a really good job.  I could be saying good bye to the opportunity to be with my kids as they grow up.

See you can't say this stuff on facebook.  Its all just a bunch of fluff.  Superficial shit.  "Oh look at me!  look at how good my life is!  Look at all the wonderful things happening to me!  Look at me my hair is purple now!!!"

"Oh, your purple hair makes me so wet!  Can I be next in line to fuck you!"

"Okay, after I fuck my ex-girlfriend.  She doesn't know about this so we'll have to keep it on the down low."

"That's okay . .  .

I am off the rails.  Anything not to look at the cross roads.  Anything!

Look at it.  Look at it.  don't fear

Facebook

Facebook makes me feel like such a looser.   I have like 23 friends.  All of those friends have like at least four hundred friends. All of them are telling each other how good everybody else looks with sexual innuendo.  What the fuck!  And one of my friends who just became single is fucking a different woman every night.  I finally had to tell him to stop telling me about it.  He fucks his ex every third or fourth fuck.  I know.  I know.  I am using "fuck" way too much.  Sorry.  But nobody is reading this anyway.  That's really okay.  I have to remember that this is for me.  All the crazy jumblings in my head.

Sounds like someone is a little jealous and bitter.

Yeah, well fuck you.  You're right.  I am jealous that all his little girl friends on facebook are fawning over him.  I have to admit that.  But the other thing I know, and this probably sounds like sour grapes, is that he is living a tormented life.  (I was going to say "fucked up life")  He is where I was 5 to 6 years ago.  And I have to say getting purple hair is far better than going 40 thousand dollars into debt - which is what I did.  But then again he is still having sex with the ex and I am betting that they will be getting back together again.  And why am I obsessing on it so much. . .

Facebook is a total ego junkie orgy.

I lived in my ego and got blown away.