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February 3, 2002

Damn. February already. Time is a ticking away.

Same story with me... working around the domicile. Could you possibly be as sick and tired of hearing about it as I am thinking and doing this? It's never ending. Today, I am feeling very - - oh, so very.... tired of it.

Impatient with myself and resentful of the time sucking capacity of this place.... blah - blah, fucking BLAH etc., etc.

So, let's not even go there.... OK? < like you have a choice >

I've been thinking about my new life and what it entails < don't worry... I'll get into that later this month... >

Anyway........... you know, ....

the life in which M and the kids and I are living together... well, that's what's been on my mind..

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That life.

It's a glorious picture but... in the meantime....

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< Yes.... I must repeat myself >
I can't wait until the day comes where I know she has a job here. The kids really want to move here, but... even they know it comes down to M getting employment. 2,000 miles apart isn't easy, and, it isn't going to get easier any time soon. Moving that far away in itself is a heap of work, especially for M. So, here I am busting ass and feeling bad that I can't help her more, but - there's only so much a person can do from that distance. It ain't much. Aside from verbal support, I can't do a thing. So... I am hoping that she'll put me to good use when I arrive for a week in March.

I'd rather be working and helping her there when I go because, for one, I have guilt because I'm not going to be productive here. Normally, all of my vacations were spent at home on huge projects. You can accomplish a lot when you have a week to do something. Well... granted, I have 3 day weekends in which I generally accomplish something every day... but - you know what I mean. And, once in a while... even I need a day off.

My damn insomnia is back again. I'm not sleeping well at all. This ought to be a real treat this week if I follow protocol. Especially when I work 10 hour days. Shit. I've been averaging 4 - 5 hours a night for about the past week. I hate that. A part of it could be the seratonin/melatonin thing because it's winter. My circadian rhythm is out of whack. Once again... I've been prone to be feeling slightly zombie-like, even if it's only on certain days. And... I have to say that because in spite of it all... there are days when I do feel great.

I got off the Wellbutrin I was on about a month ago. If you've been reading along, then you already know that I began taking it after my cousin committed suicide < a little over a year ago >, and... I couldn't and can't say enough about it. It worked wonders. But, unfortunately.... I am beginning to think that it played a huge role in regulating my sleep. Still.... I'm gonna try a few other things before I resort to taking that everyday again. Why? Because I'm stubborn. And, I don't like the idea of taking something every damn day.

This February 9th marks the 5th anniversary of my Father's suicide. And.... it also marks the 1st anniversary of my meeting M in person. Those two things that are so far from each other on the emotional spectrum, but.... two very significant events in my life. On one hand, it's cause for celebration... on the other... I don't exactly know how to categorize my feelings.

The 9th will take me back to a day a year ago that I found her. Yet, the 9th will also take me back to a day five years ago when I lost myself.

I'm not exactly sure how I'm going to feel when that day comes. Because of M.... I welcome it. Because of my Father, I dread it.

So.... I guess it'll be my wonderful/beautiful/awful day. A bittersweet celebration must be on the agenda. Maybe I'll have a fire out in the Outback and hang out with my dog. Throw in a good laugh and a good cry, too.

Being alone has given me time for reflection. Maybe too much.

Oh...

I'm sure some of that is supplemented by the extra time available due to a lack of sleep.

February 9, 2002

I made it through the week. No problem.

Oh... except for a potential truck problem.

One day this week, I headed out to run an errand. Headed out to the Post Office to mail a package. A package for M and the boys. Lo and behold.... when I started the ol' trusty rusty truck... it didn't sound so trusty. In fact, it sounded like there was a big bag of trash under the hood. What the...? Frickin' bucket of bolts anyway.

So, I pulled back in the parking lot and parked. I shut the truck off. I popped the hood. Didn't see a damn thing. The belts looked fine. Started it. Sounded fine. Left for the destination after checking my pocket for my cell phone. Got to the Post Office and it ran on a few seconds after I shut it off. Fuel and or timing?

Great. Now that I'm giving most of my check towards home improvements and general bills... why not throw some at the truck?

Arrrrrgggggggghhhhhhhhhh.

Hmmmmm.... the timing maybe? Hopefully. I'd rather have it be that than major engine problems.

It was low on fuel, so.... before whipping back into the office parking lot, I refueled while the engine was running despite the signs posted telling you to shut the engine off. Oh, well. If that's as rebellious as I could get early in the week, maybe I should try harder.

I guess we'll see. I'll try not to worry about it. Ha ha ha ha ha ha... now, if I could only be that carefree. I wish. But, I think it might take a lobotomy to get me there.

Days later - - - - - -

So far so good. Seems the problem could have been some bad fuel. After filling up with premium, it's been running fine.

Today I drove the old truck about an hour away into the next town before noon. Why? Well... I found a Jeep I was potentially interested in and wanted to check it out. So, check it out I did. After casually looking for months now, seems I found one I am willing to part with money for. I made them an offer. I offered them 700 bucks less than what they were asking for it.

I got a call tonight. We compromised. I am going to buy it for 600 bucks less than what they were asking for it. I'll pick it up late in the day this coming Wednesday. Mom has the day off, so she's going to drive me over to the bank and over to get the Jeep and the title.

The Jeep has 51,000 miles on it. It's a "95. Black with a black rag top. New white letter tires and a new battery. BUT, best of all... it had one owner - a woman. A woman who puddle-jumped in it, but didn't do any two-tracking at all.

She bought it when she was in Germany and she had it shipped by boat back to the States a couple of years ago. She loved it and took great care of it. She doesn't really want to part with it, but she hurt her back and can't drive it anymore.

By looking at it, you wouldn't have thought it was woman-owned at all. There are "NO FEAR" emblems on it and... one of those "pissing boy" logos < I had to laugh > and "American Pit bull" decal on the rear bumper! Yep. She has Pit Bulls. 3 of 'em. < whaddaya know? LOL and.... notice, I have said NOTHING else, nor have I inferred anything... not one thing... LOL >

Unfortunately, I wasn't able to meet the woman face-to-face. Why? Because she now lives in another state. We've e-mailed each other though, and, I promised her that her baby would have a wonderful home with me.

The Jeep is older and fairly basic, and... I'll have to put a few bucks into it. It doesn't have a back seat, and the top should be replaced by the end of summer. But, it looks like I'll keep the old truck for hauling stuff. Especially if M and I move from here. We can haul quite a bit with that with the topper removed. That makes me the soon-to-be official owner of 3 vehicles. I'm sure the insurance company will be happy about that. But, at least I don't have new vehicle costs and new vehicle insurance.

I'm happy today because I'm getting a new ride, and.... because my girlfriend sent me a big bouquet of tulips today! A year ago tonight was the first time we saw each other in person. GOODGOD... was I ever nervous and excited at the same time!!!! Sheesh!!!! I'll never forget it though. So... today I'll thank my journal....

.... thanks journal!

Because if it wasn't for this, I may not have met my M. My pen pal, my phone pal and now... my girlfriend.

We've come a long way baby!!!!!

Who wouldda figured? Certainly neither of us.

Therefore, it's a good day. A pretty damn good day. Even though the thought of my father's suicide is in the back of my mind on this anniversary date. Yes it is. At least I can say that the horror of that day is not overshadowing everything.

That's good. That's real good.

February 11, 2002

It's Tasha...

...giving added meaning to the common term, "house dog."

February 16, 2002

Alright.... SO.... I finally got out of the new < to me > Jeep long enough to write.... ;^).... of course, it should be obvious that I'm kidding - but, if it's not... then... wellllll ...the problem isn't mine anymore. It's yours. And, while I am certainly NOT assuming that you are inept or anything of the sort. In fact, I'd say that if you understand what I am saying, then you've surpassed the multitude. Today.... perhaps myself included.

Now where was I??

Oh yeah..... the Jeep!

This sums it up: I love it!!! Get out of my way!!!

I'd post a picture... BUT.... my < YES.... insert your fave swear word here > computer has left me in an absolute fit over everything. The allegedly < I say that word with great sarcasm > ... the USB compatible digital device is creating incompatibility issues that could/would take DAYS to illustrate. Let's not go there, huh? But, if ya wanna and you want me to be succinct, I'd have to try and explain errors I have found no explanation for. And THEN, then... I'd hafta tell ya that the tech heads at the top of the heap are dumbfounded as well.

ADOPTED ATTITUDE: Fuck it.

I'm waiting for a flash card reader. That's my ticket to the big bypass. That's my ticket to ride.

So... I hope. And, so I do.

What would life be without hope?

A wish less.... unfeeling.... detached sort of hell maybe?

Perhaps.

A shallow version of its unpredictable self?

Probably.

That said... let me move discontinuously along.... and, let me say that I know several hells at the moment. Simultaneous shit.

What am I talking about?

OK... lets start with this: The hell of not knowing.

I like to know, you know?

Like, I'd like to know when M will get a job. I'd like to know IF it'll be this year. Generally speaking, I am fatally optimistic.... but, sometimes I worry, too. About the "what ifs." And, well... with that alone, it's possible to drive oneself batty. I hate that, but... it's true. Yet, if they don't move here this year... I am OK with that. Why? Because I have to be. There's not much choice. So, if necessary... I am prepared to wait. I won't like it but, I'll make do.

Three weeks from now I'm leaving for Arizona. I haven't even thought about packing yet. That's sort of the norm. But, over the past year I've done this so many times that it won't be that difficult. The only hard part is leaving once I get there. Arrrrrrrrggggggggghhhhhh.

I'm really ready for my life to change. I am looking forward to having a new life with my future family. Change is good. And, I'm feeling incredibly settled about it. I'm going in the right direction and I can feel it.

The biggest change possibly is that I'm not getting into an incredibly dysfunctional situation. How will it be to have a girlfriend who isn't an alcoholic and/or getting high all of the time? How will it be to have a REAL partner? How will it be to have a partner that is on my level? And, one that has excellent communication skills?

How will it be? It will be glorious! That change is good. That change is welcome.

As a classic example of the rescuer syndrome, it seemed that the majority of my relationships were with people that had a whole slew of baggage. Of course, we all have some. But, we don't all have the same amount. I always had a tendency to ignore the invisible trainload. Why? Because I never wanted to see it. While I am a realist in many areas, I didn't want to be realistic there. If I didn't acknowledge the train, then.... it could stay invisible. Except that, eventually... the damn thing comes roaring down the tracks - it doesn't blow its whistle - and it plows your ass down. And... you knew it would happen. That is the point in which you can't ignore or deny reality.

Yep. I've been run over a few times. Haven't we all?

In my case, I've always been hopeful and a wishful thinker. I've always employed the fairyland thinking principal when it comes to relationships. I believed that things would change. I wanted to believe that. I had hope and perseverance. While I didn't actively set out to change others, in the back of my mind, I always felt it would happen. When nothing happened, eventually I changed. M has had similar experiences. We've both laughed about it because we don't give up easily... which of course means we'll be together for good.... LOL

I think much of my "hanging in there" through the worst of times, came from my Mother. My Father was an absolute ass in so many ways and she stuck with him. He wasn't emotionally available to her. He wasn't even on the same page as my Mom. But.... Mom hung in there, essentially raising 4 children alone. Despite my Father being there, he was more like having another kid in the house. Of course, I now know that he had his own problems... but still... I don't see that as an acceptable excuse for his behavior in the relationship or in the family. His sudden outbursts of violence directed toward my brother and I were uncalled for. His screaming would send us all into hiding. His anger came out in a variety of ways, none of them good. Sometimes that side of him came out when he was drinking... but, mostly - when he drank, he was the fun party kind of guy. Everyone liked him... but, he had a dark side that was an open secret at home.

I'm not trying to put my Dad down by writing about this, because... for all of his problems and shortcomings, he was still my Dad and we all loved him. Actually, I don't like to dwell in those places where I mentally dredge the river of my past, partly because I would rather not remember him like that.... but, mostly because I'd prefer to leave my own pain there where it belongs. In the past. It has little to do with my future. I am headed in a brand new direction.

But, just by scratching the surface of my own childhood... you might be able to see why I have a built-in ability to roll with the flow. Even if it is dysfunctional. I learned to adapt to what I knew in order to survive. Yet, I find it disturbing that I would choose relationships in which I would put myself in situations with such disquieting similarity. With people who, for the most part, weren't emotionally available to me.

With M, this is where it ends. And, although I've felt like I wish she would have came into my life sooner, it's possible that I wouldn't have been ready for someone like her then. So, whatever I had to go through to get to her... it's OK.

That's why I'm willing to wait if I have to. She is SO worth my wait!!!!!!!

Let's hope that waiting isn't the case though, because if that's what happens... you'll have to put up with a bunch of whining and senseless yammering.

Alright < quit laughing >, so YEAH.... you put up with my senseless yammering now... and, you even hear my episodic whining. But, trust me... it could be worse.

Actually... this has the potential to get quite ugly.

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You know what's good for you, so you'd better say a prayer and/or arrange some lucky charms.

February 25, 2002

I swear to you.... for each and every day I didn't write < and YES... it's been a few >... there was not ONE day that went by that I didn't realize that at all. I thought about it every day.

After a while, guilt begins to pile up and I have to do something to alleviate it. Like I am now...

Anyway... I was wondering about life in your world. Or, more aptly stated.... your part of our world. It's part of that globalization thing. Now.... I'm thinking about singing: "This land is your land.... this land is my land...."... when I am rudely interrupted due to my asking myself, WHY? And there I go again. Talking to myself. Talking to myself in pixels.

ROTFLMAO: Actually... I forgot the words... after that California part... ;^)
... and by now, you're laughing because you probably actually KNOW what I am talking about!

Oh, now.... where was I?

Excuse me... I am having way too much fun. Perhaps it's all the carbon monoxide from the Jeep, yet... I think not. It could be lack of sleep... and, OH... what else? Hmmmmmm....... it could be that it's due to spending too much time alone. Thinking - thinking - thinking... and... talking to the dog.

Blame it on the moon. Could be the hex you put on me. Or, my spectral graph is off. My biorhythm maybe. My stars and planets ascending or descending only God knows where. Although... wait a minute... it could be the water. Could be the chemicals my neighbor sprays on her lawn.

Perhaps there is no clear SOMEONE or SOMETHING to blame. Alright. That said, I'll take full responsibility for my warped self. Now... allow me to become a bit more serious.

Is that OK?

An ugly factoid: YES. In some ways... life sucks. < yep... it still does.... in parts anyway... but, the funny thing here is that YOU know what I mean! EXACTLY. Are you scared? ;^) Don't be. > Factoids aside - all in all... < while I'm not sure where you are... > I am finally there. I found my place. It's right here. After everything. Here I am. I'm still standing. I still have a huge reserve of hope. And, love. I have love, too. In reserve. The internal provision. The gift that truly keeps giving me more.

WHY? Because for whatever the reason... I have it. I have hope I can't explain. Not only that, but... I love life! Yeah... it true. And, YES, I've embraced the pain in the ass it can often be. How true. This journal has illustrated many unforseen events - tragedy, really. Yes. Life is a series of ups and downs. Some rather astronomic. A few smooth spots thrown in for good measure. It's been a huge pain and an immense joy. Is that a contrary term? Not really. I'd be surprised if your life wasn't similar.

Well... in spite of it... in spite of its shortcomings, pitfalls, and negative scenarios... I can still sit here and say that I feel a well of emotion at times when it comes to life. One that could not be adequately described via this medium. Or, really any other that I know. It is something that is experienced. It can't be duplicated in any other way. It can't be written, drawn or sung about.

It's mine.

And, it surpasses my human self, and ...my built-in limitations of human understanding don't help.

My spirit isn't finite... not like my human self is. And, here I am. Stuck. I'm human. But, I know that some things aren't perceptible in a human way... and, I'm talking about when you see things with something other than your eyes.

That is waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay cool when that happens. I love that.

It's gotta be my spirit. And, I say that with great conviction despite the fact that it's hard for me to grasp that intangibility at times. From a human standpoint I'm throttled. But, it has to be what I'd call my spirit... because it's so much more than just me.

For as human as I am... and for all of life's frailties, disappointments, aches and pains... I am happy I am here... and...I acknowledge my blessings, of which I have many. It feels so good to be alive. And, it feels good to feel the depth of my emotion.

It's great to feel so happy even when I am faced with many challenges. It's great to feel the contentment I feel without winning to lottery. Now if M and the boys were here I would have to have a celebration. But... despite the 2,000 miles away in the way - I do feel so incredibly close to them. It's a tremendous feeling.

So... in spite of the hardship I often feel with us being so far apart, I wouldn't have NOT wanted to experience what I am feeling now. I am truly enjoying this journey. I have an appreciation for them that I couldn't have if things were happening any other way.

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It's so damn frickin' cool, ain't it?

February 28, 2002

Damn I have a ton of stuff to do.

While I'm at the office, I'm thinking about it. When I'm driving I'm thinking about it. It keeps me up at night. It haunts me to the point I am quite surprised I don't dream about it. I wonder why? Perhaps my subconscious mind feels like, "enough already."

Tasha went to the vet earlier this week for her series of annual shots. Of course, she hated it. Of course she acted like a stuck-up little scaredy Pit Bull. She wanted nothing to do with those people, so she sat in the corner on a plastic chair, panting and shaking while she shot me daggers. "Will she bite?" No. Tasha seems more afraid of being bitten by the stranger. The stranger who obviously works around many animals, but ...was clearly leery of her. It was probably the Pit Bull thing. Everyone knows their collective reputation precedes them.

Tasha may have been further frightened by the way this woman looked, I know I was. Her surprising ultra-white round face was framed by an alternating scraggly/fuzzy shroud. You know... one of those over processed hair things - a cross between too many bad color jobs and a shit load do-it-yourself perms. She had a deep gravelly voice that exclaimed she'd smoked up at least 20 acres of tobacco already. Her tired eyes were surrounded by a blur of yesterday's mascara and were bloodshot enough to convince me she closed the bar last night, or... she smoked a big joint on the drive into work. Her clothes were rumpled as if they were laying in a pile on the floor overnight, or, reclaimed directly from the laundry basket that morning.

She looked like a fucked up china doll on acid who just rolled out of bed and hit the floor.

Really... I'm not saying that to be mean!

Oh.... never mind.... you would have had to have been there.

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