Preparation to Climb

I get up to the trail usually the night before.  It is usually a 6 to 9 hour drive.  I’ve done this 6 times now and will be doing it again this weekend.  My preparation begins a couple of weeks in advance when I start to visualize the trail, the look of the mountain, youtube videos of people doing it, the routes as described on 14ers.com,  the pictures with blue, green, magenta, and yellowish brown lines that show the routes on topo maps on the site.  the pictures at various points on the mountain with lines indicating the path.  As I drift off to sleep while listening to music my head is consumed by all the images.  As I review the pictures and snippets of video in my head I begin to convince myself I can do this.

The Monday prior to the climb I start looking at the weather reports from the national weather service for the geographical coordinates for the actual peak.  What I am looking for is a mostly sunny day with a low probability of stormy weather in the afternoon.  I look at the days preceding the climb day and the day after.  What I want to see is if there is bad weather I want to see it tapering of as the day draws near and I want to see good conditions for the night when I am leaving the mountain and good conditions the next day.  The conditions before and after don’t have to all that good it is just the trending I am concerned about.  A 60 percent chance of t-showers on the climb day means I am staying at home.

So if the conditions are favorable, I’ve down loaded the kml file and the concerned topographical maps of the region into “backcountry pro” on my phone, I gather all my gear and get ready for the trip.  I pace my eating so that I don’t have to do a number 2 on the mountain.  I can’t stand that.  However, I do bring toilet paper and I am sorry but I am not packing out my excrement.  I will dig a hole and bury it as deep as I can.   According to the leave no trace rule  packing out excrement is a must.  This means I don’t eat much the day before until I get to the trail head.  I usually make a big pot of spaghetti with sauce and Italian sausage during the week to take up with me.

In my pack I have the following, hat, extra jacket, at least 2.5 litres of water, cliff bars, compass, knife, bear bells, extra socks, bivy bag, extra contact lenses, a big ass battery for my phone, a pill bottle with excedrin and ibuprofen, and a head lamp.   One time I took one of those 5 hour energy things.  I think it actually helped. I also have hiking poles and climbing gloves.  My cloths are wool socks, synthetic long underwear, synthetic regular underwear, synthetic t-shirt, synthetic turtle neck shirt, quick drying and wicking hiking pants, sunglasses, and a helmet.  I also take a go pro camera and a sony video camera and my phone.  When I drive up I am usually in shorts, tennis shoes, and a tee shirt.  Oh yes, I also have good hiking boots with very “grabby” tread.  In addition, in the car is extra water, crampons, an ice axe, sleeping bag, blankets and sometimes I take a couple of pillows and maybe an article of Wendy’s clothing.  And last but not least I take a shit load of butterflies in my stomach.  These do not leave until I am about a quarter of mile into the hike.

It’s usually on a Friday morning I get up, load up the car, turn it on, release parking break, put my foot on the break, and take the car out of neutral and put it into drive.  I release the break and all four wheels on the 2005 Forerunner begin to rotate.  As the wheels rotate through the first couple of degrees I think, “Holy shit, I am really going to do this.”

When I was in my twenties, I would decide to climb a 14er on some weekend.  I might decide to do it on say the previous Thursday.  On Saturday morning I would wake up and if it was sunny and for the five times I did it, it was sunny.  I lucked out really.  I would put on jeans and a t-shirt some cotton socks and bring along a “hoody” just in case.  I would get up fairly early and head on up to say Mt Bierstadt, park the car at the trail head, get out and start walking.  Now I would take a back pack with some food in it.  Water was hit or miss.  I don’t really remember taking water.  This is how I would begin to climb.  Essential I would climb on a whim with basically no advance preparation.

This is also how I began my climb, a different kind of climb, the climb of my life, on November 21st of 2005.  The climb started the last 15 minutes of November 21st.  Metaphorically speaking, okay writing, this would be when I would get out of the car put my feet on the ground and take the first step wearing just a pair of shorts, socks, tennis shoes,  and a t-shirt.  Once again, metaphorically I was beginning a climb up a fourteen thousand foot mountain requiring advanced climbing skills just shy of technical rope climbing sometimes called class 4 hiking/climbing.  I was starting it in the dark and I had no idea I was starting out on this journey.  If you were to actually start a climb like this the chances of survival while not totally suicidal are at best slim.  I am still alive and sober.

A Book Really – Ascent.

I was an asshole.  As my ex-father in law would say, “the deluxe model type.”  That seems like a good way to start a book?

I have been told two times today and on other occasions that I should write a book.   Everybody writes books these day.  This book would be about my story.  Everybody has a story.  Lot’s of people have a story.  They have a story very similar to mine so this will not be a book.  It will not go that far.

See, my wife died a year ago December 6th.  She had been battling cancer for fourteen years.   I really miss her.  At least, I think I do.   I question myself on lots of stuff.  I am constantly suspicious of the way a feel and the way I think.   The reason is, is that for most of my life I was really unaware.   That’s right, unaware.  Simply, unaware.  A better description might be “not self aware.”  So I really have to ask myself, “Do I miss her?” or is it just that I miss drifting off to sleep spooning with a really wonderful woman or do I just miss having sex.  I do not like being alone right now.  So, do I really miss her?

At this point you may be thinking, “Yup, you’re an asshole.”  Well, it is true I do not like being alone.  It is true I would really love to feel the warmth of a woman.  And of course, I want to have sex.  However, I haven’t been able to take the ring off.  I haven’t been able to remove her coat from the coat rack that she put it on.  The last time her coat was off the rack it was in her hands.  Many of the items in the refrigerator (non perishables) are still in the refrigerator.  Essentially the house has not changed at all since the day she died.  So although I would like be in a woman’s loving arms again, if it is not Wendy, then I can’t do it.  As for the sex, because of her illness, we were not able to engage in the activity during our married time together which was three years.  This was primarily due to the medication she was on.   She would get nervous about this and I would say I didn’t marry her to have sex.  I actually didn’t. . .  I may or may not be an asshole but I think I miss her.  To remove her coat from the coat rack would be letting her go.  I am closer these days but not quite there.  It has been thirteen months.

The next question I ask is, “Is this just guilt?”  because really I just want to have sex but I feel too guilty.  “Yup, he really is an asshole.”  I don’t know.   I just don’t know.  I would like to think that because I am asking these questions I really do love my late wife and miss her dearly.  I can say I am brought to tears over her easily.  I hear a song in the grocery store and I start to well up.  Yeah, I know, I am trying to plead my case for not being an asshole.

It’s fine if you think I am an asshole.  I’ll take it.  But finally, I will say that about three weeks before she died I asked her if I was able to do it.  “Do what?” she asked.  I asked her if I was able to make her life better by being in it than not.  She said, “Well of course you have my love.”  I was able to believe her.  I knew our relationship and it seemed believable to me.  Before we even thought of becoming a couple I would hear her say, “If a man can’t make my life better by being in it than I don’t want him in my life.”  She had been married twice before and the stories she told were horrific – especially with her first marriage.   Her second marriage was a nightmare however I could really relate.  I could relate to the guy that made her life a living hell.  I had done it myself with my now ex-wife.  In fact if it was a competition between me and her second husband in the mental anguish department I would win hands down.  Yesssssss!  Imagine a fist pump here.  I am good at something.

So Andy, do you think you are an asshole?

Like I said, I don’t know?

What’s all the questioning for?  and it seems like you are just badgering yourself.

It all goes back to my motives, I guess.  What are my motives?   Why am I doing what I am doing?  It seems to distill out at awareness of my motives.  Once I have awareness then I have a choice.  I have a choice to be honest or lie – to myself.   I actually do not want to lie.  So the questions, “Do I miss her?” and “Am I just doing this out of guilt?” become pretty important to me.  Because the fact of the matter is I really do want to be held in a woman’s arms.  I want to be loved.  I want the pleasures of sex   I want to feel like I matter.  If I don’t ask myself questions like these then I am poised to make someone else’s life along with mine fairly miserable.  It’s worse.  It’s life threatening.  I become a danger to myself and others.

If I simply don’t have awareness then I am flying blind.  In order to achieve “feeling like I matter” I will do things like threaten suicide in order to get someone to make me feel like I matter.  Here, that “someone” is my ex-wife.

It is actually very simple.  We’re not talking rocket surgery here.  The thought process goes something like “I am not feeling like I matter enough to her.  She is spending the day with her friends when she should be home with me.   That’s it!  I am going to have to show her!  or as I liked to say, “I am going to bring her into understandment.”  “Understandment” isn’t even a word.  She will plead with me, beg me, and cry for me not to do it.  Oh it is going to feel so sweet!”

These thoughts are going through my head but they are not high enough in my conscience for me to know it.   All I know is is that “She needs to show me she cares.  So while she is out with her friends, I am going to go into the garage, call her up, and let her listen to me turn the goddamn car on.

This is all I know.   In fact, it’s worse.  I don’t even know that I feel bad!   I don’t know that I feel bad because I have this perception that she does not care about me.  Her not caring about me doesn’t come to mind.  I am just plain pissed.  I am angry and I am going to do something that will be catastrophic to me but more importantly to my kids and my now ex-wife.  This is where my ascent starts.

A lot has happened since the last post.   I guess.

I am still alive.

Wendy is still not alive.

I became way to infatuated with Marcia.  Yeah, like you couldn't see that one coming.

Jan 23rd

Picked up knitting needles. First time since mid November.

So, the acupuncture appointment.

Oh yeah, the acupuncture appointment.  Once again a number of things happened.  I need to get this down.

I went to my acupuncture appt. yesterday at 12:30.  I brought Marcia 3 pairs of Wendy's socks of which she could pick one.  She was really excited because she thought I had brought all three for her.  Which means she likes the socks because they were Wendy's and may mean that she likes them because I knitted them.  I couldn't part with all three.  I can't let that much of Wendy go.

She said she thought I was bringing her socks that I had been working on.  She was right.  I told her last time that I had been working on two pair of socks for Wendy when she died.  And then I went on to tell her that I would finish those and would "love" to give them to her.  So this says a couple of things to me.  One is that she likes the socks I made for Wendy to where.  Another is that she was really listening when I told her I was working on two pair when she died and that I would finish them and love for her to have them.  Note the use of the word love in that sentence. Not, "like" for her to have them, not I could finish them and if she wanted I could give them to her.  (That's what I said to her, Wendy.)  The other is that she would like to have socks that were knitted by me.  These socks would mean something to her.

I learned to knit in 2009

We talked about movies.  She said she went to see Star Wars in 3D.   She said her sister was here in town and asked her to go but she couldn't and then she said,  I actually thought of you but thought, "He's at work he can't go.  Could you have?"  I told her and I gotta tell you the truth on this one is that if she called me to go see a movie during the week.  I would make up something.  I told her, "yeah, sure. Unless I got a really important meeting of something - I mean just as long as I am getting my stuff done" (which I actually am.).  Is she going to call me during the week to go see a movie?  I think it's a safe bet that she won't.  Her son's girlfriend went with her.

Next item up is yoga.  At my last appt with her she said she was going to text me to go to yoga with her.  I did not get a text that Thursday.  Yes, I was a bit bummed but a bit relieved.  She forgot what happened that night - why she hadn't texted or called me.  I told her that I had made up my mind that if she was going to text me, I was going to go.  She said she would text me that night at 6:30.  She also said that she was trying to get her "friend" Dean and her sister to go.

That's pretty much it for the appt.

She did text exactly at 6:30.  I was watching JD's dogs.  Her office is really close to where JD lives. I ended up over there in about 2 minute.  So it is 6:32 just 2 minutes after she texted me and I text her, I'm here.  I heard a truck across the street honk it's horn.  I texted her if that was her truck then told her I was in the parking lot. It was freezing as I walked around the lot when I got a text saying that the yoga class wasn't until 7:15.  Oh boy,  hmmmm. do I look a little bit too enthusiastic or what.

I had realized on the way over there that I only had 8 bucks and the class cost fifteen.  I started to panic on the way over there. That's great!  That's just fucking great!  You're going to ask her to pay for your yoga class - what a douche bag!  This will put an end to anything that might happen. So after I get the text I go to the bank and pull money out.  Then I drive down the main drag and back to burn up sometime then park in front of JD's house and wait til 7:00 to roll around.  I figure, if I am in the lot when she get's there it is going to look like I am a bit too enthusiastic.  So I wait in front of JD's house for her text.  I mean it is like I am in some kind of movie where I am waiting for the signal to synchronize efforts to rob a bank.  The signal comes.  Immediately, I put my 2000 Toyota minivan into gear,  All 6 cylinders and 194 horses are put into action to move me two blocks over to her office.  At least I didn't turn so hard and fast into the parking lot that the rear end of the van didn't swerve.

The yoga class was good and peaceful.  I put my mat down beside her's without crowding her space - I think.  A couple of times I saw her laying there and I imagined as if it was just her and me.  Her hair on the floor.  The way she would pick herself up to the sitting position to move one of the props. I thought how nice it would be to over there with her.

When we were walking back to the her office/parking lot she said I will be texting you next Thursday. I told her I would be looking forward to it.  So this could be my "Thursday night thing" but only if it is with her at least for the time being.  I told her that I wasn't prepared to do it without her.  She is sort of like my training wheels here.  I hope she is more than my training wheels.

This whole thing that I have written is way better than thinking about Wendy not being here.

Going to Yoga tonight and getting way ahead of myself!

Another important part of information about Marcia is,  She is unattached.

So a conversation with my kids, maybe just Alex might go like this.

Me: So, are things getting pretty serious with your mom and her boyfriend?

Alex:  Why?

Me: Well, things have kind of warmed up between your mom and me.  She seems willing to talk and listen about the events of ten years ago.  She seems to have recognized there has been a change in me - I mean for the better.

Alex:  I don't know, what do you mean serious?

Me:  Alex, you're seventeen freaking years old now.  Do I really need to explain serious.

Alex: Okay Dad this is getting weird.  Could we not talk about this?

Me: Come on you are almost an adult you can talk about such things

Me thinking:  Boy Andy this is so so totally not what a real adult would do.

Me: All I mean is, does it look like he will be moving in with you guys or like they might get married?  Are you seeing him a lot?  That kind of thing.

Alex: I don't know.  Why don't you ask one of my brothers.

Me:  I can't.  Okay, you are right. I shouldn't be asking you these questions.  I am sorry.   Yes, you are right.  I know.  It is like I am pumping you for information which puts you in a bad spot.  I am sorry.  I am acting like a 17 year old.  No! just kidding. (Alex is 17) I am acting like a 10 year old.  Seriously, I am.  What do I need to do to make it up to you.

Alex: Just stop talking about it.

Me: okay! uhg!  Boy I feel like a kid to my kids.  This sucks

Alex: What do you mean?

Me:  Well, I feel like you are the adult and I am the child now.  This feels very shameful and demoralizing.  Your mom never talks about her BF.  She will not even acknowledge that she has a "BF."  And it is "boy friend" by the way.  Just like Wendy was my girl friend.  So we are having these heart to heart talks about what has happened a little over 10 years ago and what has happened in the intervening time.  When we talk she usually starts crying because she is overwhelmed with emotion.  I think most of it is good emotion.  You know like she is crying because she is happy or she is crying because she is sad that we got divorced.

Alex: You want to get back together with her don't you.

Me:  Whoa, hold on there sport!  Not necessarily, If the thing isn't all that serious with "said BF" and all this is happening between me and her, then that opens the possibility.  And I am wondering if it has opened the possibility in her mind.  Or maybe it's not open at all.  May I am way off her radar.  I only show up on Sunday nights when I talk to her and that is absolutely fine.  However if it is true the possibility has been opened in her mind then I am open to consideration.  Consideration! that's all.

Alex: What about Wendy?  Aren't you guys still married.

Me:  Very good question!  I know you are thinking, "How could dad be thinking about getting back with mom after Wendy died!  What kind of a sick fuck is my dad?

Alex looks visibly shocked after hearing me say sick fuck

Me:  Yeah, that's right.  That's a good thought.  It is reasonable to think that.  The answer to that is I may very well be a "sick eff"  I won't repeat what I said before because I only said that for effect.  I think some of it is a "sick eff" anyways.  I think more of it is that I am living in a house that Wendy bought, that she invited me to move in with her and that I know sort of own and she's not here.  This is a horrible situation.  I am not saying that well because I am in this horrible situation that I need to get into another relationship as soon as possible because I deserve it.  Although that comes into it a little bit.  That's where I am a bit of a sick eff.  The 'ol I deserve it routine.  But to get out of that horrible feeling to deal with the reality that she is dead, not passed on. not not here anymore, not on a different spiritual plane, but dead, I go off into la la land thinking about, "Hey, what if Ronda and I were to get back together.  Hey, what if Marcia is interested in me.  Maybe we could get together.  Maybe we could go to Avila beach together.  and so on.  This is called fantasy.  It is healthy to some extent.  I don't want to be alone for the rest of my life and I do not want to get into a relationship for another 10 to 12 months at least.

So here is why I am asking you these stupid questions.  I am asking these because there is the woman, my acupuncturist, Marcia, that is inviting me to do stuff with her.  I really like her.  We get along.  I make her laugh. She  makes me laugh and she is cute.  So the question is do I keep taking her up on her invites?  Do I invite her?  Do I become more attached to her.  This is what happened with Wendy and me 4 years before we actually got into a relationship.  Marcia looks like a woman I would like to travel through some if not the rest of my life with.

However, I have to be honest, if your mother is thinking, "Well maybe Andy and I could. . . ."  Then maybe, and it is only "maybe", I would rethink my interactions with Marcia.  This is why I am asking you what you think is going on with your mother and her BF.  In the absence of any information, I guess I will continue down the path with Marcia if it amounts to anything.  And I have to be honest, I am really hoping it amounts to something say in 10 to 12 months.

I guess the result of this conversation is I am not going to ask Alex or any of the other guys any questions regarding this.  Any information I get will come from Ronda if I get any at all.  If I get none then no big deal.  I will go to yoga tonight with Marcia.  I will hope to go to a movie with her and then go to another and another and so on.  I will see her when the appropriate opportunity arises and keep on assessing if a relationship between us would be in both our best interests.

Waiting Around for the Miracle

Ronda and I finally talked.  I mean really talked.  We talked about what happened ten years.

Supplements, The Newer Age Movement, and Cancer

Went to coffee with Tara tonight.  This is something Wendy and I would do - go to coffee with Tara on Saturday nights.  We would meet at Barnes and Noble.  The last time we did this would have been last year at this time or prior.  We then started meeting here at the house.  We would do supplements.  which means package them.  Wendy was taking upwards of 50 supplements a day.  Okay, she was taking at least 25 different supplements a day - upwards of 50 pills.  She started doing this after she started seeing Dharma which of course we all know is pronounce Ded um.  Hmmmm.

According to JP Sears who is leading the "Newer Age" movement, to be ultra-spiritual we no longer need to use names like "Sonata Rham Carh", "Whispering Light", "Bobba Ganoosh", "Krishna Yoga Nanda", "Rhotee", "Bulabonda", "Guru Punjah", "Dances with Wolves", "Rainbow", "Harmony Dolphin", "Shocktee", "Blossoming Lotus", "Rham Dhas", "Lhat Nham Carh Tarh".

Now you can have a name like, "Drew", "Karen", or "John" to be Ultra - Spiritual

But I digress.

You might be catching a glint of my thoughts on supplements.  I actually believe that some of them work for mitigating some of the symptoms of cancer and the side effects due to cancer treatment, namely "Chemo."  I am talking slight mitigation but that's about it.  Anyway Dedum is a nurse nutritionist who does kinesiology.  She would put stuff in Wendy's "field" and from that arrive at the types of supplements she should have.  Every time she went she would come back with two or three more supplements to take.  These supplements aren't like asprin of ibuprofin or peptobismol in terms of cost.  She was spending money on supplements to the tune of 500 to 1000 dollars a month.  None of it covered by insurance of course.  The only thing that made a dent in her cancer was the hormonal therapy which suppress estrogen to which her cancer cells were receptive.  This only works for a little while then the cancer "wises" up.

At the end of the day, to use and worn out phrase, certainly the greedy doctors made their money,  absolutely the awful insurance companies made their money, and without a doubt big pharma made their outrageous sums of money.  Also, the supplement manufactures made their money and every time Dedum added a couple of more supplements she made a couple of more bucks herself.  Hmmm.

Kinda strange that none of the doctors or "healers" like Dedum showed up at her funeral.

Off the map again and in the Fog.

When everything once so familiar now seems so foreign, so alien. I feel alienated from life, from everyone.

So we got this plant presentation going on.  Here's how it happened.  My wife passed on December 6th of last year - a little over one month ago as of the time of this writing.  I took that week off and was going to return on the 14th.  However, I had lots of stuff to do that day and I ended up coming in on that Tuesday, the 15th.  On that Monday an e-mail was sent out saying that the team that was supposed to host January's meeting was not ready.  Was there any other team that could it?  Our team leader signed us up for it.

So you got a fucking team that had done some work on it but shucky darns they don't think they're ready to do it.  So, yeah, our team is totally cold on it. Sure sign us the fuck up. I learn of this on the 15th - the day I get back from my wife passing away.  Do you know how much the fuck I feel like fucking hosting a fucking plant fucking meeting - fuck? Yeah, not too fucking much!

Our leader says he'll do most of the work and talking and he is. So, it isn't as bad as I thought.  He's gonna do this Star Wars theme thing.  Yeah, I am so totally fucking sick of Star fucking Wars.  We all do the morph faces on Star Wars characters. We are asked to do a small bio including skills and interests outside of work.

I do the bio.  I kind of start to get into it and come up with about a 3 sentence bio, skills, and interests outside of work.  I put some funny stuff in there. Stuff that isn't true but funny.  Turns out everyone else is just putting in skills and interests.  Everyone starts talking about how I put a "Novel" on my slide.

So, Fuck that. I do the same thing. Except, I only put one word for each thing. Interests: one word, Skills: one word, all of it true and boring.  You can read all about me in less than two or three seconds.

At first, I wasn't going to come to the plant meeting but then as I kind of felt like I was getting into it I thought I would go.  Now, fuck it. I am taking that day off. I am going to Colorado.

I feel so alienated.  Like, in case you didn't get it Floyd you are not one of us.  Unfortunately we needed to give you a little smack upside the head to let you know so.

"Okay, Okay, I got it!  Just stay the fuck away from me then.  You know, Fuck off.  Do your stupid fucking plant meeting without me.  Fuck off." Says Floyd.

The Sunday Night Girl

I actually did a search on this blog for "Sunday night girl"  Turns out I never used the phrase.  I used it but not in this blog.  I used it at the Saturday night meeting which we stopped in 2011.  I would talk about how attracted I was to Carrie in that meeting.

Anyway, I don't believe I have seen her in well over a year at the Sunday night meeting and she showed up tonight.  How 'bout dat.

I was looking forward to seeing Nicole and as I am walking in I here someone call my name and it is Carrie. We were at the grocery store, Bashas, one day and Wendy and I ran into her and her boy.  It was nice.  I had come a long way since then.  Now, however, I am vulnerable once again.  Okay, she is a little heavier but is still pretty. And I still feel a little bit of that electric charge.  Yeah, it's just a little bit.  It would be nice to see her at the meeting but she probably won't be back for another year or so which is okay.  Still thinking of Marcia.

By the way, every time I mention the restorative yoga to people, they say, "Yes, that would be excellent for you."  Even my friend Larry who I see every Sunday morning said I should go.  (Sort of a Sponcee kind of thing)  So I am getting the message from the universe that restorative yoga is something to do.  Kind of the green light to go to restorative yoga with Marcia.

Talked to Ronda tonight.  She said she is thinking about me a lot. Hmmm. She is in a relationship.  You know what I want and of course, this is only with certain women - certain women that are not in relationships - that are unattached.   I want them to be thinking about me - a lot.  I want them to be thinking about me as in I would like to get to know Floyd better.  Maybe he and I could have coffee or I could cook him dinner or . . . . The circus is in town. Que the music . . . .

I have been going for my own little personal record on the TCB charts (Taking Care of Business)  Took care of business 5 times today.  So yes I am having problems today.

What all this tells me is that I have done a pretty good job of avoiding the pain today actually.  I think in the other blog I may have said the exact opposite which is a fucking lie.

I fail to accept that she is not coming back to this house.  I failed to accept it today.

I failed. . 

I failed

I failed

I failed

I failed

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.