The little girl has a collection of pipe cleaners and she’s pretending they’re sticks of candy. She told her little brother “They’re $1 each or $100 for a bundle” I asked her “How many candy sticks are there?” She said “20” and I said “So it’s $1 each or $100 for a bundle?” She said “actually it’s $20 a bundle.”
SassaFrass the Feisty did this and it inspired me to do the same. Here’s the link to her entry which you can follow back to her very cool blog.
Four names people call me other than my real name?
let’s see, there’s Daddy from the little girl, dada from the little boy, sweety from a friend of mine (I like that one the best) and the wife used to call me honeybunny.
Four jobs that I have had?
customer service in a call center, Technical support engineer (why the fuck do they call it that, I’m not on a god damned train), research assistant for a government agency (I got caught up on a lot of reading there) and my current job as a stay-at-home dad which is more stressful than the other three combined.
Four movies that I have watched more than once?
The Rocky series, though 5 through 7 weren’t worth the film they were made on “If he dies, he dies”
shawshank Redemption “god damn cats climing trees, 5 times 5 is 25, fuck this shit, fuck it!”
Startrek IV, The Voage home “We’re talking about the end of every life on Earth, haven’t you got any god damn feelings about that?”
A Christmas story “You’ll Shoot your eye out”
I promise you, I didn’t google any of those quotes so if you want to google to see how wrong I was, go ahead. lol.
Four books or authors I’d recommend?
John sandford, Vince Flynn and since I haven’t read in a long time but have authors I’d like to read, I can’t put them here because I haven’t actually read them so they wouldn’t be honest recommendations.
Four places I have lived?
akron Ohio, (one of my favorite places) Tallahassee Florida, Boiling Springs North Carolina, and San Antonio Texas.Four places I have visited?
Four things I’d rather be doing right now?
Playing music, eating Ice cream, cuddling (if I could find someone)
Four foods I do not like?
Meat of any kind, milk chocolate, Brussel sprouts, chocolate ice cream
Four of my favorite foods?
pizza, blueberries, cheese, Pasta
Four shows I watch?
Nothing current so The Fresh Prince of Bel Aire, The Jeffersons, Becker and Happydays.
Four things I am looking forward to this year?
I don’t know how to answer this one really.
Four things I am always saying?
“fuck this shit”, “stop being mean to your brother”, “I love you baby” to my daughter and “I hate mornings”
I got caught in the trap that some people get caught up in and I’ve been beating myself up for it for the last few days.
I found an ad on craigslist for a woman who wanted a friends with benefits and after I inquired, she wrote back “If you help me, I’ll help you”. I asked is this like cash in exchange for favors? She said that it was and I said “I never do that”. Well, I guess that’s not true because I sent her money from my PayPal account and I allowed my reason and gut feelings to be overruled by the attractive offer of intimacy and affection. I really don’t’ understand how I can be so stupid. What a few of you know but most of you don’t is that, I am in a marriage that is lacking in sex and intimacy, not by original design but just after years, she no longer has the interest in any of that stuff at all. She doesn’t have the desire, energy or time for it. I understood that low thyroid played a big part which explains the energy and desire components, but the lack of time is clearly on her and after all, her career and house projects are more important to her than either me or the kids that she wanted. Okay, so this is a blunt and bitter post so I’m hoping that those attributes will at least be overlooked in the context that, this is just another therapy session and maybe someone out there has gone through something similar, if not identical.
A long time ago, when we entered into this whole open marriage idea, we both agreed that we would never pay anyone for anything. But what was it when I was taking care of our daughter when she was spending time and gas going 45 minutes away to get impregnated by another man, the same one who she had our daughter by? Is that not indirectly paying for sex? I brought that up and she had some logical glib answer like always. And after all these years, the other day she said “I thought having another child would be like having the first one, he was so easy and we had so much fun, going to the park, having big breakfasts when his friends were over, cuddling in bed on Saturday mornings…” And then our daughter came along and she was the most high maintenance child either of us had ever experienced, and that was my first newborn to deal with and it was me who had the post-partem depression, not her.
Maybe 9 months to a year afterwards, she said that she wanted another one. I explicitly didn’t and I asked her why she wanted another one and she gave me all the reasons above plus things like “they’ll grow up together and play together” and, by the way, when we were thinking of adopting and I said “well, it’ll be cool for him, meaning the older one who is now a teenager, to have a brother or sister to play with” and she said “that’s a horrible reason to want a child”. she even went as far as to say that if I resented her for a couple of years for having the child that she so desperately wanted but that I didn’t, she would be okay with that because, if she never had another one, she would regret it for the rest of her life.
So after all that, her thyroid is low which explained why she didn’t have any energy and somewhere along in there, the subject of sex came up which is when she gave the energy, desire and time excuses for not wanting it anymore.
I was thinking of writing to the email address that this con artist gave me but I figure that really wouldn’t do anything anyway. I don’t play the victim, being fully aware and cognizant that this error in judgement was my own doing and if there’s a lesson to be learned here, I suppose it is to just trust your intuition no matter how attractive an offer seems to be on the other side.
I still can’t believe how gullible and stupid I was to do something that dumb.
this makes me wonder why I’m thinking about all this right now? Maybe it’s always been there, like the shadow of a great nemesis just waiting to attack and further break the cracked hollow spirit inside of me? A little on the dramatic side? Probably but it’s honest and real and if I can’t speak of it in my own blog then to whom shall it be voiced? The people who have been complicit in the removal of my own voice in a way? Absolutely not but then, I suppose I also allowed that process to happen as well. You know, this whole taking responsibility for oneself, which is lost on our modern culture, I wonder if with people are prone to mental health issues, do we take that concept to its most illogical and extreme place, shouldering all the actions of others as if those very actions were a consequence of the choices that we make along the way? I don’t know if any or all of this makes any sense or if it is just a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing? Everyone knows that reference. And now that my soliloquy has ended, if I didn’t have to put on a happy face for the kids, I’d probably go somewhere and have a good cry because, though I don’t often feel that way, that too is catching up with me as the result of a need to run from whatever I feel is always in the shadows, ready to chase me, especially when I am in my bedroom. And all this reminds me of something I wrote for one of my albums, which I may have shared but for the benefit or agony of new followers, and for the benefit of my ever-failing memory routines, here it is anyway.
“the man stood resolutely, remorsefully, as the thick fog enveloped his figure, a lonely physical form on a bridge, overlooking the calm river, 200 feet below his feet.
He was out here on a mission, well, in his mind it was a mission, even if the goal was a passageway into the afterlife.
The afterlife, it had to be better than the life on this planet, the life he has lived for so many unfulfilled years, or was it decades, or even centuries…it seemed eternal.
when had this gradual descent into the chamber of darkness begin? Maybe it has always been there, calling him, whispering to him hauntingly, beckoning him to embrace it. It was always so desolate in the dark, surrounded by nothing but regret, wrong turns, the steps that seemed to go nowhere, climbing aimlessly, always being out of focus, feeling that there was something more but wondering, yes wondering how to obtain it, and if he could, maybe there would be hope.
Before he had walked onto this bridge in the middle of the city shrouded in fog, he had come from a church. Actually, it was a cathedral.
Like every night when his work was done, he was alone with his dark intrusive thoughts, the black images that wouldn’t leave his mind. So he walked out the door, leaving his life behind, it wasn’t really unusual since he had always gone for walks at night to try to clear his head before returning to his home for a few hours of repose before he arose in the morning and had to do it all over again. Day in and day out, it was always the same, no variation, nothing different, just the same script that he had to read from, the lines that he had memorized that had been repeated so often that he could no longer distinguish between who he really was and what he was pretending to be.
He walked through the giant door of the cathedral. It was empty but for a couple of people who were kneeling in prayer. Prayer, what was that? He used to know a long time ago, used to talk to God all the time, he had believed what they had told him about God and his Son, that Jesus was the author of peace, the bringer of life and those who were thirsty, he’d give them living water, and to the tired, he’d take their burdens. these words were more abstract than the fundamentalists he’d run into later at college, the ones who would tell him that he needed a “personal relationship with Jesus”.
Now that he was in this sacred space, it all came flooding back to him, the memories, the promises, the hope which was professed to be real by the speakers of the truth.
As Pontius Pilate had said before the crucifixion “what is truth?” Then he had washed his hands…of what, the upcoming deed or the truth which external forces were trying to impose on him?
He looked up at the cross and felt abandoned, the head told him that the man hanging there had died for him. “he died for all of us because he loved us”, fundamentalists had said over and over, maybe in different words but the message was the same. He couldn’t fathom it in his heart, a being of any kind that could love him so much that he’d take the form of a man, be humiliated, put on trial for crimes he didn’t commit and then be brutally executed for him? Why?
It made no sense, none at all to his logical mind where every action had a reaction and every choice had a consequence.
Still looking up at the cross, he heard the words again that he had heard as a child. “For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son, that whoever believes in him, shall not perish but have everlasting life”. That was close enough for the man in the cathedral.
The debt must be paid, the debt must be paid and yet, conventional wisdom or, what he had come to conclude was mindless dribble, had told him for years that the only way to repay the debt of the death of God was to accept the gift of eternal life.
it was a paradox that he couldn’t get his mind around, it confused him, flew in the face of all he had logically determined as truth for himself after so many years without God.
And yet, the invitation to “be Still and know that I am God” was still there after all this time. He continued staring at the cross, his mind screaming no!!! This isn’t logical, I don’t want his love!!!” Why? because he knew that it would be impossible to love another being as deeply as this one would love him, and that was an enormous obligation that he knew he could never fulfill.
So he ran out of the cathedral and kept running, feeling all the while that he was being chased by something or someone. While he was running faster and faster, he remembered the story of the hound of heaven. Wasn’t that the story where a man was running from himself and he was being chased relentlessly by a hound and when he turned around, it was God? Never mind, it didn’t matter. If he was going to live, he’d look it up on Wikipedia just so he’d have the story straight in his own mind. exact quotes didn’t matter so much but having a narrative the right way in his mind was important.
He felt a presence, actually, he picked up the scent of perfume and while standing on the bridge over the calm river 200 feet below, he heard the soft footfalls. Now he knew that his sense of being chased wasn’t an illusion at all.
The woman put a delicate hand on his shoulder and whispered softly “a dream of Beauty is an illusion in a life of loss”.
The man turned around and realized that she was right. His life had been full of dreams of beauty, but he had always lost all of them by foolish actions, choices that demanded consequences. For him, the consequence was inevitably loss, followed by profound loneliness and isolation.
now he felt his sanity slipping away, a foreshadowing of the life that would be lost at any moment by a choice that he was determined to make.
He stepped closer to the rail and then paused. He had expected her to instinctively pull him back from the rail but she didn’t. did she want him to die? That would be unspeakably cruel and heartless, to want a stranger to die with no cause whatsoever.
He laughed inside at the irony of the situation. Here he was, ready to take his own life because he felt it was empty and yet, he felt that a stranger allowing him to do the very thing that he had come here to do was unspeakable. it was another paradox he couldn’t comprehend.
He turned around to face her, his hound of heaven and she said “I am your dream of Beauty in a life of loss”.
He asked “Are you God?” She said “today I am and tomorrow He’ll be someone else for another person in desperate need of living water and eternal life. Your afterlife is here, you’ve just been unaware of it all this time.”
if you’d like to hear the music that this story was written to, you can visit
The wife fell in love with another house yesterday so she asked me if I was interested in looking at it. After we moved into this last one, she said “We’re never moving again and if we do, I’ll be signing divorce papers because my husband hates moving.” That’s almost a direct quote. A warning to new followers. This may be a wandering stream of conscious post.
The wife loves projects and to fix up the house. She repainted the whole inside, had the outside painted, replaced the carpeting on the stairs and 2/3 of the upstairs with wood, put in elfa shelving in the downstairs closet and we just had around a third of the windows or more replaced and a brand new patio put in the back.
She’s running out of projects so now she’s in love with a house that was built in 1987 that needs to be brought into the 21st century.
It’s got a lot of stuff she would do like take out all the wallpaper, popcorn ceilings and carpet, not to mention the landscaping. This house is around 3100 square feet with 5 bedrooms and three bathrooms. The house we looked at today is 4500 square feet with 6 bedrooms and 5 bathrooms.
Two big problems with the new house are that it’s around a mile from the school so I’d have to walk the kids that far myself, which I could probably learn and it would be a good way for me to lose a little weight, not that I have that much to get rid of but what better way to get healthy than to walk 4 miles a day, even if it’s in the heat which I don’t like.
There’s no park nearby which I take the kids to all the time around here because the wife is always working and it’s just easier for me to take them there and watch them play rather than hear her yell “I’m working, leave me alone!” all the time.
I said “if it wasn’t for the project, would you still want to move?” and she said “it’s more than the projects, it’s a good investment.”
I said “Okay, so if we move and it takes you forever to do all these projects, what are you going to do when they’re finished?”
She said “By that time, we’ll be ready to downsize”.
I said “If you like working on house projects, why not just spend some volunteer time working at habitat for humanity?” She said “Because it’s not for me and it’s not on my schedule”. Now that’s an exact quote.
I look at a house as a place to live and enjoy your life, not as a continuous project that always needs to be fixed. I get that there’s always something to do in a home, really, I do, but at some point, why not just spend some time enjoying your life in the house that you’ve fixed up instead of always having a project/ I just don’t get it.
The teenager said “We could build them a little park in the backyard with a fort and a sandbox” and the wife was sad because we’d have to take out a tree or two to put in a pool.
I said “as much as I don’t want to say this, since, if you get this new job where you’ll be gone 70% of the time anyway, and we’ll need to hire someone to help with the kids in the evenings, like cooking and checking on papers and the like, I suppose that person could be a liv-in since we’d have the room and she could drive the kids to school in the morning”.
I’m always doing that, putting other people before me and though that sounds good in theory and it’s even admirable to a point, though I absolutely hate it when people say they admire me, there has to come a point when there’s a tipping point and I wonder how close am I coming to that, really?
I just don’t know, it seems to me like we’re just becoming two different people than we were when we first met and I suppose that, over time, that happens.
If we decide to do this I said “if you get this new job, and you’re gone all week, when are you going to have the time and energy to get this place ready for sale?” She said “Well, I do all the house stuff on weekends anyway so it won’t really be that different.”
She has a nice glib answer for everything, a counter argument for every challenge that I propose, well, except the live-in co-ed, that was my idea, but a guy needs some action once in a while. lol. shit, I can’t believe I just fucking said that, but hell, why not be totally honest. No, that’s not the primary motive in all that and if it was, I’d be one disturbed mother fucker, but it did cross my mind. Hell, I’m already disturbed anyway and I think that’s becoming more apparent every day, the more I exist on this planet.
When people ask the wife what I do, she tells them that I’m a stay-at-home dad and that I write music for horror films. lol.
I have a new album out, almost 2 hours of ethereal ambient piano music for your relaxation and listening pleasure.
Thank you, as always, for your listenership and support of my work.
The wife got back from Denmark, (the little girl called it “Deadmark”, and international travel is not for here, mostly because of the shitty way customs operates here at the stupid DFW airport. “who knew it would be so difficult to get back into your own country”, those were her words.
She flies to Chicago Tuesday night for an interview on Wednesday for that job that will pay more but where she’ll make more money, but not as much as she had hoped so she’s a little disappointed.
She said “I don’t want to take this job if it’s going to make our lives worse, meaning you with the kids, but, to be honest about it, I’m not very useful with them during the week anyway because of my foot. I can’t take them to the park or anything” and I said “yeah that’s true and if you’re gone 4 days a week it won’t really make that much of a difference anyway”.
at least she’s admitting now what I’ve said for years, even before she had her surgery but it still felt like a partial admission which means it won’t really change anything.
There’s another blog entry that I’m working on detailing more personal stuff that I don’t think I’ve mentioned but I’m still nervous to post it.
I think it’s obvious that I’m running out of creative titles for blog entries that describe my weary existence on this planet.
The wife is coming back from Denmark today and the teenager, even after being reminded several times throughout the week that she was gone, still didn’t get gas for her car. He spilled pineapple juice, or claimed that it just fell out of the refrigerator when he opened it, and didn’t do a good job at all cleaning it up and not wanting to get ants because it’s the spring, and the cleaning lady was just here, I had to do my best to finished the job. You know, as useless as he is, it would just be better if he wasn’t here honestly. Go ahead and say I’m heartless for having such a thought but he’s an example of what happens when you spoil your kid. As the wife says “at least he’s not on drugs” but that’s just a way to minimize my feelings and perceptions on it by stating that it could be worse. That doesn’t negate the fact that if he doesn’t get his head out of his stupid ass, he’s going to be a god damned failure at life and though that will be difficult, maybe that’s the only way he’ll learn not to screw off. He had to be at work at 11 yesterday morning and he got up at 11. I said “dude, they’re going to fire your ass if you’re late to work” and he said “I didn’t hear my alarm”, meaning that he’s not responsible for that.
Nothing pisses me off more than people who won’t take responsibility for themselves in what they need to get done or people who are hypocrites.
At least the wife gave the kids hugs when she left, which is more than I got.
Maybe it’s time to make more noise music and I have the perfect title.
“I walk through my life like a lethargic disconnected zombie pretending to play a role I wasn’t designed for”