...Cleveland definitely does not rock. It is actually more akin to a death rattle...you know...the sound a bad guy makes in an action flick just before he dies. But "Cleveland Death-Rattles" doesn't really dance off the tongue, so, yeah...
And yes, I know Michael Stanley wrote (and performed) the song, but since nobody outside of Cleveland would know that I figured Drew Carey was the better reference.
If you hadn't noticed, I really am sick of this town.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Monday, March 28, 2011
The least amount of fun you can have with your clothes on...
...in my experience anyway, is the Creditor's Meeting for a Chapter 7 Bankruptcy proceeding. I've never been audited by the IRS, but I'm pretty sure there's a cavity search involved there (for kicks, I'll bet, as you really wouldn't hide financial records in your ass, would you?), so your clothes wouldn't technically be on now, would they? Oh, and the Creditors? Yeah, they weren't there. And apparently never are. But they have 60 days to object. Yeah, that's fair. If you are summoned to court and don't show, you lose. If your creditors are summoned and don't show, they get 60 days to answer. I'm not saying that the system is slow or anything, but just think of what YOU could do with 60 days.
Anyway, you sit there and answer questions for about 10 minutes. In the "grand scheme" that doesn't really sound too painful, and the answers are all "yes, sir" and "no, sir." If you need to elaborate, the Trustee will ask you to do so.
So I'm sitting there, answering with my "yes, sir/no, sir" answers, elaborating when asked, but all the while my inner monologue is saying "No, sir, and that's because I'm a financial failure" and "Yes, sir, and that's because I suck." and so on and so forth.
In the nine years I've been sober, I haven't really wanted a drink. Until today. Good thing I have Diet Pepsi on-hand and no desire to leave the house...
Anyway, you sit there and answer questions for about 10 minutes. In the "grand scheme" that doesn't really sound too painful, and the answers are all "yes, sir" and "no, sir." If you need to elaborate, the Trustee will ask you to do so.
So I'm sitting there, answering with my "yes, sir/no, sir" answers, elaborating when asked, but all the while my inner monologue is saying "No, sir, and that's because I'm a financial failure" and "Yes, sir, and that's because I suck." and so on and so forth.
In the nine years I've been sober, I haven't really wanted a drink. Until today. Good thing I have Diet Pepsi on-hand and no desire to leave the house...
Thursday, March 24, 2011
So this is what rested feels like...
Man, do I feel great today...
I got one more hour of sleep last night than I normally get, and I feel fantastic. Refreshed almost. Not that I still wouldn't mind hibernating for a month or so and just let the world pass by, but when you get some decent sleep, your whole outlook changes, at least a little bit for a little while.
My WoW friends have been very supportive during this time, as has my family. I talk via phone with my family daily, and with my WoW friends via Ventrilo just as much.
Looking at that last mini-paragraph, I really think I need to reclassify my WoW friends. As I have very, very few friends to begin with, and none within an actual visitable radius, I'm just going to call them my friends. How or where I interact with them is of no consequence.
Anyway, my FRIENDS have been very supportive. They know what I'm going through, and understand when I just don't have the energy to start a raid at 9PM, or just can't start that heroic instance run at 10:15. Last night I very closely resembled the Night of the Living Dead...kind of shuffling through the house in a fog, running into walls, that sort of thing. The only thing lacking was the whole smell of the living dead thing. Which is good.
So I bowed out early, and actually got into bed at around 10:30. Slept like the dead. Not the living dead, just the dead. The pack woke me up twice, and I went right back out. I woke up, did the routine, and came to work. Like I said I feel fantastic!
Oh, and I've come to a decision. I will be moving back to Michigan once everything's all said and done. I've done some salary comparisons (not average salary based on title, but actually looking up jobs and seeing what they're paying) for five different cities. My hometown of Flint, Michigan is actually paying a little better than cities such as Detroit, Cleveland, Ann Arbor, and Raleigh, NC. And that's likely due to the fact that so many people have left the area to pursue careers elsewhere that there's simply not enough people there to do the work that needs to be done.
So with that decision behind me, I now just need to slog through what I need to do next. Which is purge the crap that I'm not keeping, get through the bankruptcy (hearing is Monday, hopefully we can one-and-done it), finalize the divorce, and place 7 dogs into new homes. Oh, and secure a job in Michigan as well as a place to live. I really don't want to move without having work unless I have absolutely no other choice.
So, despite our crappy Cleveland-area weather, I'm having a pretty good day.
Hope you do as well...
I got one more hour of sleep last night than I normally get, and I feel fantastic. Refreshed almost. Not that I still wouldn't mind hibernating for a month or so and just let the world pass by, but when you get some decent sleep, your whole outlook changes, at least a little bit for a little while.
My WoW friends have been very supportive during this time, as has my family. I talk via phone with my family daily, and with my WoW friends via Ventrilo just as much.
Looking at that last mini-paragraph, I really think I need to reclassify my WoW friends. As I have very, very few friends to begin with, and none within an actual visitable radius, I'm just going to call them my friends. How or where I interact with them is of no consequence.
Anyway, my FRIENDS have been very supportive. They know what I'm going through, and understand when I just don't have the energy to start a raid at 9PM, or just can't start that heroic instance run at 10:15. Last night I very closely resembled the Night of the Living Dead...kind of shuffling through the house in a fog, running into walls, that sort of thing. The only thing lacking was the whole smell of the living dead thing. Which is good.
So I bowed out early, and actually got into bed at around 10:30. Slept like the dead. Not the living dead, just the dead. The pack woke me up twice, and I went right back out. I woke up, did the routine, and came to work. Like I said I feel fantastic!
Oh, and I've come to a decision. I will be moving back to Michigan once everything's all said and done. I've done some salary comparisons (not average salary based on title, but actually looking up jobs and seeing what they're paying) for five different cities. My hometown of Flint, Michigan is actually paying a little better than cities such as Detroit, Cleveland, Ann Arbor, and Raleigh, NC. And that's likely due to the fact that so many people have left the area to pursue careers elsewhere that there's simply not enough people there to do the work that needs to be done.
So with that decision behind me, I now just need to slog through what I need to do next. Which is purge the crap that I'm not keeping, get through the bankruptcy (hearing is Monday, hopefully we can one-and-done it), finalize the divorce, and place 7 dogs into new homes. Oh, and secure a job in Michigan as well as a place to live. I really don't want to move without having work unless I have absolutely no other choice.
So, despite our crappy Cleveland-area weather, I'm having a pretty good day.
Hope you do as well...
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Must Love Dogs...
Sooo...
14. The number of mornings I've gotten my ass out of bed @ 6:30 AM or earlier. In a row.
Yes, I'm aware it is Sunday. But when you have 11 dogs that have to go outside, this is the time to get started. At least on Saturday and Sunday. During the week I'm up at 5.
I love my dogs, I really do. I also know that I alone can not take care of 11 dogs. The soon-to-be-ex Mrs. Me used to take care of them during the week, and I'd give her a break on the weekends. Now there are no breaks.
I contacted a breed rescue organization for 7 of my dogs (we used to breed these; bred two litters, but haven't bred a litter in 5 years). On day 1 I received no less than a dozen e-mails. Fantastic! Or so I thought, anyway. Lots of good intentions. And what is the road to Hell paved with, children? Thaaaat's riiiight....
I'm tired, my coffee is cold and right now I really would like nothing more than to enjoy a cup of coffee that is at least warm by the time I finish it and not get jarred awake 4x during the night by my dogs barking at some random sound they hear somewhere outside. Basically a full night of uninterrupted sleep and hot coffee would set me right up. Oh, and sex. Did I mention it has been a year since I last did that? Yeah. I'm awesome. Ugh.
Oh yeah, and I found out that I have eczema. On my hands, which is awesome considering I rely on them for my job. So, yeah, cracking/bleeding skin on my hands. Loving that. I did find out that it is brought on by, of all things, stress. So it really is no surprise. I hate surprises like that. LOL
So the hits just keep on coming. The trouble is, those hits are popping me square in the face. At least I don't have eczema on my face. Boy, wouldn't THAT be appealing.
Well, back to the dogs. Hope both (of my readers LOL) of your weekends have gone better than mine.
Maybe next week will be better.
I'll let you know...
14. The number of mornings I've gotten my ass out of bed @ 6:30 AM or earlier. In a row.
Yes, I'm aware it is Sunday. But when you have 11 dogs that have to go outside, this is the time to get started. At least on Saturday and Sunday. During the week I'm up at 5.
I love my dogs, I really do. I also know that I alone can not take care of 11 dogs. The soon-to-be-ex Mrs. Me used to take care of them during the week, and I'd give her a break on the weekends. Now there are no breaks.
I contacted a breed rescue organization for 7 of my dogs (we used to breed these; bred two litters, but haven't bred a litter in 5 years). On day 1 I received no less than a dozen e-mails. Fantastic! Or so I thought, anyway. Lots of good intentions. And what is the road to Hell paved with, children? Thaaaat's riiiight....
I'm tired, my coffee is cold and right now I really would like nothing more than to enjoy a cup of coffee that is at least warm by the time I finish it and not get jarred awake 4x during the night by my dogs barking at some random sound they hear somewhere outside. Basically a full night of uninterrupted sleep and hot coffee would set me right up. Oh, and sex. Did I mention it has been a year since I last did that? Yeah. I'm awesome. Ugh.
Oh yeah, and I found out that I have eczema. On my hands, which is awesome considering I rely on them for my job. So, yeah, cracking/bleeding skin on my hands. Loving that. I did find out that it is brought on by, of all things, stress. So it really is no surprise. I hate surprises like that. LOL
So the hits just keep on coming. The trouble is, those hits are popping me square in the face. At least I don't have eczema on my face. Boy, wouldn't THAT be appealing.
Well, back to the dogs. Hope both (of my readers LOL) of your weekends have gone better than mine.
Maybe next week will be better.
I'll let you know...
Friday, March 18, 2011
Hate my Life...
Wow. What a shitbag week this has been.
Started off okay, not much happening, work took a huge dump on Wednesday and it pretty much stayed in the toilet the rest of the week, culminating in my getting pulled over on the way back to the office during lunch for, of all fucking things, fucking exhaust noise.
Wouldn't happen to be due to the fact that I'm driving an 11-year-old car now, would it?
Best part was the guy passing me just before the officer popped his lights. I was going the speed limit.
Nobody ever said this blog would be all gumdrops and candy canes.
Subway was good for dinner though, so there's that silver lining.
Fuck it.
Started off okay, not much happening, work took a huge dump on Wednesday and it pretty much stayed in the toilet the rest of the week, culminating in my getting pulled over on the way back to the office during lunch for, of all fucking things, fucking exhaust noise.
Wouldn't happen to be due to the fact that I'm driving an 11-year-old car now, would it?
Best part was the guy passing me just before the officer popped his lights. I was going the speed limit.
Nobody ever said this blog would be all gumdrops and candy canes.
Subway was good for dinner though, so there's that silver lining.
Fuck it.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Raised by Wolves...
Good morning.
I am going to veer off the beaten path a *wee* bit this morning, and focus on something I thought of after checking out my daughter's Facebook page last night. More on the Facebook page in a moment...
I'm wondering if it would have been better if my kids were raised by wolves. Wolves require that lesser wolves in the pack work as a team. One wolf alone does not bring the deer down for the pack's meal. One wolf does not tend to the security of the pack. They all do.
Which leads me to this: after conversations with my kids over the years, I have gleaned that they have a sense of entitlement. I have no idea where this comes from, as I have worked my ass off over the years to get to where I am now. My very first job was washing dishes in a local pizzeria. I've worked in gas stations and convenience stores and as a waiter. I've been a security guard. I was a soldier. Then, when the opportunity presented itself, I was able to break into the IT field, as a 3rd shift computer room operator. I moved up from there, and am now an IT Administrator.
When discussing potential jobs with my (now adult) children, I would ask questions like, "What about a fast-food job? You like the food, and you eat for free or at a discount." The answer: "If I could get an Assistant Manager's job, sure."
Really? Seriously? Because they give those jobs away to just anybody who walks in off the street with no experience whatsoever.
Granted, I was not there for the raising of my children, which I know is not the easiest thing in the world with two parents present, let alone one. The first ex-Mrs. Me and I split up when the kids were young, and my situation, created by me through a series of REALLY bad decisions, forced me to move 600 miles away. I was able to get my shit together (relatively speaking) so I could be at least try to be effective as a person and as a non-custodial parent. I did do the visitations, the child support and tried to instill them with values and work ethic whenever I had contact with them, which was fairly constant, be it over the phone or in person. Never in all the rambling conversations I've had with my kids over the years have I said "Yeah guys, just wait for the world to hand you everything. You've earned it!"
So yeah, when I heard that I was pretty damned shocked. And dismayed.
But nowhere near as dismayed as I was when I looked at the photos (all public, mind you) on my daughter's Facebook page.
Teenagers and young adults, if for some sick reason you are reading this blog, please take note: If you are going to have a Facebook page, it would behoove you to make your profile private so only your Facebook friends can see it. Trust me on this.
Nothing makes daddy more proud than seeing a pic of daddy's little girl (or son for that matter) taking a hit from a bong. Especially when daddy's little girl knows daddy has a drinking problem (9 years sober, btw, and damned proud of it) AND has been told (repeatedly) about both the dangers of addiction and substance abuse, AS WELL AS the genetic components regarding addiction. Besides, future potential employers LOVE seeing how much a potential employee likes to party. It makes hiring decisions SO much easier.
Here's the thing though: I did the best I could given the circumstances I was operating under. I know this. I love both my children very much. I gave them the best I had to offer. What they do now, as adults, and what they choose to become, is on them. I will feel bad for them when they are hurting, and help them pick themselves up when they get knocked down. But I can't live their lives for them, and I can't stop them from doing what they want to do. At this point in their lives, I can suggest and advise, and that's about it. I've accepted this.
As this is getting a bit long, I will end with a joke that I like to tell:
A big game hunter decides that he's going to Alaska to hunt bear. So he gets his gear together, flies to Alaska and gets to it. He's tracking a bear, a Brown bear, shoots and kills it.
Moments later, something taps him on the shoulder. Its a Black bear, who says "You just killed a friend of mine. You have a choice. I either get to eat you, or f#$k you." The hunter obviously doesn't want to die, so he chooses the latter.
Ashamed, the hunter goes home, stews for about a year, then heads back to Alaska. Determined to avenge his humiliation, the hunter finds the Black bear, shoots and kills it. Another tap on the shoulder; this time its a Grizzly bear. "You just killed a friend of mine. You have a choice. I either get to eat you, or f#$k you."
Again the hunter leaves Alaska, stews, then goes back for vengeance. After killing the Grizzly Bear, he gets another tap on the shoulder, this time from a Polar Bear.
The polar bear says, "You don't come here for the hunting, do you?"
I am going to veer off the beaten path a *wee* bit this morning, and focus on something I thought of after checking out my daughter's Facebook page last night. More on the Facebook page in a moment...
I'm wondering if it would have been better if my kids were raised by wolves. Wolves require that lesser wolves in the pack work as a team. One wolf alone does not bring the deer down for the pack's meal. One wolf does not tend to the security of the pack. They all do.
Which leads me to this: after conversations with my kids over the years, I have gleaned that they have a sense of entitlement. I have no idea where this comes from, as I have worked my ass off over the years to get to where I am now. My very first job was washing dishes in a local pizzeria. I've worked in gas stations and convenience stores and as a waiter. I've been a security guard. I was a soldier. Then, when the opportunity presented itself, I was able to break into the IT field, as a 3rd shift computer room operator. I moved up from there, and am now an IT Administrator.
When discussing potential jobs with my (now adult) children, I would ask questions like, "What about a fast-food job? You like the food, and you eat for free or at a discount." The answer: "If I could get an Assistant Manager's job, sure."
Really? Seriously? Because they give those jobs away to just anybody who walks in off the street with no experience whatsoever.
Granted, I was not there for the raising of my children, which I know is not the easiest thing in the world with two parents present, let alone one. The first ex-Mrs. Me and I split up when the kids were young, and my situation, created by me through a series of REALLY bad decisions, forced me to move 600 miles away. I was able to get my shit together (relatively speaking) so I could be at least try to be effective as a person and as a non-custodial parent. I did do the visitations, the child support and tried to instill them with values and work ethic whenever I had contact with them, which was fairly constant, be it over the phone or in person. Never in all the rambling conversations I've had with my kids over the years have I said "Yeah guys, just wait for the world to hand you everything. You've earned it!"
So yeah, when I heard that I was pretty damned shocked. And dismayed.
But nowhere near as dismayed as I was when I looked at the photos (all public, mind you) on my daughter's Facebook page.
Teenagers and young adults, if for some sick reason you are reading this blog, please take note: If you are going to have a Facebook page, it would behoove you to make your profile private so only your Facebook friends can see it. Trust me on this.
Nothing makes daddy more proud than seeing a pic of daddy's little girl (or son for that matter) taking a hit from a bong. Especially when daddy's little girl knows daddy has a drinking problem (9 years sober, btw, and damned proud of it) AND has been told (repeatedly) about both the dangers of addiction and substance abuse, AS WELL AS the genetic components regarding addiction. Besides, future potential employers LOVE seeing how much a potential employee likes to party. It makes hiring decisions SO much easier.
Here's the thing though: I did the best I could given the circumstances I was operating under. I know this. I love both my children very much. I gave them the best I had to offer. What they do now, as adults, and what they choose to become, is on them. I will feel bad for them when they are hurting, and help them pick themselves up when they get knocked down. But I can't live their lives for them, and I can't stop them from doing what they want to do. At this point in their lives, I can suggest and advise, and that's about it. I've accepted this.
As this is getting a bit long, I will end with a joke that I like to tell:
A big game hunter decides that he's going to Alaska to hunt bear. So he gets his gear together, flies to Alaska and gets to it. He's tracking a bear, a Brown bear, shoots and kills it.
Moments later, something taps him on the shoulder. Its a Black bear, who says "You just killed a friend of mine. You have a choice. I either get to eat you, or f#$k you." The hunter obviously doesn't want to die, so he chooses the latter.
Ashamed, the hunter goes home, stews for about a year, then heads back to Alaska. Determined to avenge his humiliation, the hunter finds the Black bear, shoots and kills it. Another tap on the shoulder; this time its a Grizzly bear. "You just killed a friend of mine. You have a choice. I either get to eat you, or f#$k you."
Again the hunter leaves Alaska, stews, then goes back for vengeance. After killing the Grizzly Bear, he gets another tap on the shoulder, this time from a Polar Bear.
The polar bear says, "You don't come here for the hunting, do you?"
Monday, March 14, 2011
Back to work...
Well, lo and behold I made it through the weekend without driving too many relatives crazy. Or at least they were decent enough to be quiet about it if I did :)
Sunday was truly a day of rest for me, which was much welcomed, as I had gotten everything done on Saturday that I needed to get done. If "me time" had been an issue before, it certainly isn't now. All I have is "me time". And to be honest, that isn't such a bad thing.
So I made the most of my "me time" as I possibly could have. I accepted a small number of friend requests on my Facebook page...thanks to all of you for that! I was encouraged by one of them to keep writing. My readers (all two of you lol) can thank him for that...seriously though, I am enjoying this. Even if I don't get the immediacy of a verbal response, this is giving me an outlet to throw it all out there; to get it out of me. And that's the cathartic part, at least for me. I also got some good quality time with my WoW friends, which without them would have made this whole transition exceptionally difficult...they've been there for me every step of the way, and for that I am eternally grateful.
Well, I suppose that's it for now. Tune in next time when I talk about things that may or may not matter to anyone but me. Or, there may be new developments. With this whole "life" thing, you really never know...
Thanks for reading...
Sunday was truly a day of rest for me, which was much welcomed, as I had gotten everything done on Saturday that I needed to get done. If "me time" had been an issue before, it certainly isn't now. All I have is "me time". And to be honest, that isn't such a bad thing.
So I made the most of my "me time" as I possibly could have. I accepted a small number of friend requests on my Facebook page...thanks to all of you for that! I was encouraged by one of them to keep writing. My readers (all two of you lol) can thank him for that...seriously though, I am enjoying this. Even if I don't get the immediacy of a verbal response, this is giving me an outlet to throw it all out there; to get it out of me. And that's the cathartic part, at least for me. I also got some good quality time with my WoW friends, which without them would have made this whole transition exceptionally difficult...they've been there for me every step of the way, and for that I am eternally grateful.
Well, I suppose that's it for now. Tune in next time when I talk about things that may or may not matter to anyone but me. Or, there may be new developments. With this whole "life" thing, you really never know...
Thanks for reading...
Saturday, March 12, 2011
First Full Weekend...
Well, this is the first full weekend that I've been alone in nine years.
Nine years. That's a long time. That's 3,285 days. 468 weeks. Math is fun!
Anyway, yeah, my first full weekend. I would be remiss if I didn't tell you that I had some trepidation about it for a while yesterday. After all, this is fairly uncharted territory here, or at the very least wildly overgrown after nearly a decade without traffic. I know that I'll end up playing WoW for most of it, and I'm fine with that ;)
I started it off by sleeping in, all the way to 6AM! WOOT! I've gotten the dogs out, fed, and back in, and am going to take a shower and head out to run my weekend errands shortly. It's a damned good thing that the grocery store is open 24 hours.
Oh, and a bit of good news...the friend request I sent last night was accepted. I have now officially reconnected with a dear friend from my past, and this is a very good thing. She is special, but not in a hockey-gear way, and has always been a great friend. The only problem with having a really good friend of the opposite sex is when you enter into new relationships with people is they tend to not want you to continue talking with attractive members of the opposite sex from your past for very long, and I can actually see the point to that. It's a respect thing, for lack of a better explanation.
Hypothetical: You meet this new girl (or guy, if the reader is female). This new girl (or guy) was friends with somebody who was very attractive. Regardless of the history between you and the old friend (in my case the only history was a strong friendship; I managed to have a friend who was an attractive female that I didn't screw things up with by trying to sleep with her. Go figure.), there is going to be some friction there between you and your new special snowflake, especially if you and your old friend talk a lot, exchange e-mails, whatever.
Anyway, I've reconnected with this great old friend, who is now married and has two beautiful children. Which is awesome :)
And I sincerely mean that. Just because I suck at being a husband doesn't mean every marriage is doomed. Marriage is a beautiful institution and is completely fantastic as long as I'm not part of it LOL.
Well, I'm off to take care of things. Have a great weekend!
Nine years. That's a long time. That's 3,285 days. 468 weeks. Math is fun!
Anyway, yeah, my first full weekend. I would be remiss if I didn't tell you that I had some trepidation about it for a while yesterday. After all, this is fairly uncharted territory here, or at the very least wildly overgrown after nearly a decade without traffic. I know that I'll end up playing WoW for most of it, and I'm fine with that ;)
I started it off by sleeping in, all the way to 6AM! WOOT! I've gotten the dogs out, fed, and back in, and am going to take a shower and head out to run my weekend errands shortly. It's a damned good thing that the grocery store is open 24 hours.
Oh, and a bit of good news...the friend request I sent last night was accepted. I have now officially reconnected with a dear friend from my past, and this is a very good thing. She is special, but not in a hockey-gear way, and has always been a great friend. The only problem with having a really good friend of the opposite sex is when you enter into new relationships with people is they tend to not want you to continue talking with attractive members of the opposite sex from your past for very long, and I can actually see the point to that. It's a respect thing, for lack of a better explanation.
Hypothetical: You meet this new girl (or guy, if the reader is female). This new girl (or guy) was friends with somebody who was very attractive. Regardless of the history between you and the old friend (in my case the only history was a strong friendship; I managed to have a friend who was an attractive female that I didn't screw things up with by trying to sleep with her. Go figure.), there is going to be some friction there between you and your new special snowflake, especially if you and your old friend talk a lot, exchange e-mails, whatever.
Anyway, I've reconnected with this great old friend, who is now married and has two beautiful children. Which is awesome :)
And I sincerely mean that. Just because I suck at being a husband doesn't mean every marriage is doomed. Marriage is a beautiful institution and is completely fantastic as long as I'm not part of it LOL.
Well, I'm off to take care of things. Have a great weekend!
Friday, March 11, 2011
Facebook...
Okay, I did it. I created my very own Facebook page. I know, you're thinking "Wow, that's simply amazing. Did you manage to do that all on your very own? You're special." I won't link it here, as this is my therapy and you, the reader (hopefully readers) are my therapist(s). Or my live studio audience that I can't see due to the extremely bright stage lighting, laughing when appropriate, saying "awww" when appropriate, etc. Hey, at least my imagination is healthy ;)
But yeah, I've joined the millions of other people out there who are...actually, I really don't know what people really use Facebook for. Yeah, I know they can find old friends, rekindle old, dead romances, play Farmville (or any number of FB games that are out there), keep in touch with family, cheat on spouses, communicate with their bookie, give vital information to stalkers, become stalkers, whathaveyou.
Anyway, all of my information is private, but I do link this blog from my profile page for those who I "friend" to read so they can either a) encourage me to keep writing, b) tell me I'm an idiot for putting myself out here like this, c) have a yardstick to measure their lives against (here's a hint, anybody using my life as a yardstick to measure against pretty much automatically wins), d) pity me and/or send money (pity's nice enough I suppose, but money's better) or e) all/none of the above. The last one is a multiple choice multiple choice answer. Yes, I know I said "multiple choice" twice.
The really cool thing is I found an old friend that I haven't talked to in years, so I sent a friend request, which is either being a) accepted, b) rejected, or c) wondering who this person is and why they'd send a friend request (like I said, it has been years though I don't think I was THAT forgettable LOL).
I'm reading this post paragraph by paragraph as I write, and I'm wondering what the reader might think should he/she stumble upon this blog. Let me explain one thing, and I'll make it perfectly clear: I am NOT downing myself, ragging on myself, or thinking about harming myself in any way shape or form. I happen to like self-deprecating humor; I'm a fan. And besides, if we can't laugh at ourselves, we shouldn't be laughing at others.
I'll end tonight's semi-rambler with a funny little bit I found on Craigslist, of all places. I wish I could take credit for this one...
"Firearms manufacturer Ruger is debuting a new pistol, in honor of President Obama. It is called the "Union Worker." It doesn't work, and can't be fired."
Damn, that's hilarious...g'night folks!
But yeah, I've joined the millions of other people out there who are...actually, I really don't know what people really use Facebook for. Yeah, I know they can find old friends, rekindle old, dead romances, play Farmville (or any number of FB games that are out there), keep in touch with family, cheat on spouses, communicate with their bookie, give vital information to stalkers, become stalkers, whathaveyou.
Anyway, all of my information is private, but I do link this blog from my profile page for those who I "friend" to read so they can either a) encourage me to keep writing, b) tell me I'm an idiot for putting myself out here like this, c) have a yardstick to measure their lives against (here's a hint, anybody using my life as a yardstick to measure against pretty much automatically wins), d) pity me and/or send money (pity's nice enough I suppose, but money's better) or e) all/none of the above. The last one is a multiple choice multiple choice answer. Yes, I know I said "multiple choice" twice.
The really cool thing is I found an old friend that I haven't talked to in years, so I sent a friend request, which is either being a) accepted, b) rejected, or c) wondering who this person is and why they'd send a friend request (like I said, it has been years though I don't think I was THAT forgettable LOL).
I'm reading this post paragraph by paragraph as I write, and I'm wondering what the reader might think should he/she stumble upon this blog. Let me explain one thing, and I'll make it perfectly clear: I am NOT downing myself, ragging on myself, or thinking about harming myself in any way shape or form. I happen to like self-deprecating humor; I'm a fan. And besides, if we can't laugh at ourselves, we shouldn't be laughing at others.
I'll end tonight's semi-rambler with a funny little bit I found on Craigslist, of all places. I wish I could take credit for this one...
"Firearms manufacturer Ruger is debuting a new pistol, in honor of President Obama. It is called the "Union Worker." It doesn't work, and can't be fired."
Damn, that's hilarious...g'night folks!
Perspective...
I woke up this morning to 5 inches of snow on my car. I was a bit grumbly about it, of course. I hate the snow. I hate driving in the snow.
Then I heard on the radio about the earthquake/tsunami that hit Japan, and is hitting Hawaii as I write this.
Catastrophic events like these have a tendency to put everything else into its proper perspective.
Thoughts and prayers to those in the Pacific Rim...
Then I heard on the radio about the earthquake/tsunami that hit Japan, and is hitting Hawaii as I write this.
Catastrophic events like these have a tendency to put everything else into its proper perspective.
Thoughts and prayers to those in the Pacific Rim...
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Distractions...
Distractions are nice to have in a time like this. My favorite distraction is World of Warcraft. I've been playing for about a year, am in a guild (which essentially is a group of strangers from all over the place who enjoy each other's company enough to want to play the game with them), and we run around a digital world with our digital selves, fighting bad guys, monsters, whathaveyou.
A slightly less enjoyable distraction is the job. For example, I really didn't want to go to work today. Just not in the mood for it. But here I am, attempting to "leave the personal stuff at home" as my immediate supervisor likes to say. Along with "do we need to make a change?" It would be interesting to hear what she would say if she had to walk a half a mile in my shoes. "Leave the personal stuff at home?" Really? Seriously?
Hmm...let's see...losing the person you've shared everything with for the last 9 years (the total time we were together)...check...going through bankruptcy, knowing that you have to move out of the home you've known for the last 6 years...check. One of those events alone is difficult enough to deal with. Try both at the same time. Fun, I tell you. Lots of fun.
"Leave the personal stuff at home." Bite me.
On the plus side for today, it is payday. So I get to buy groceries. Eating is good. Personal hygiene is good. So groceries are good.
Bah, I'm to the point of rambling; then again, isn't that the point of all this? Ah, well...back to work so I can go home and be distracted.
Have a nice day :)
A slightly less enjoyable distraction is the job. For example, I really didn't want to go to work today. Just not in the mood for it. But here I am, attempting to "leave the personal stuff at home" as my immediate supervisor likes to say. Along with "do we need to make a change?" It would be interesting to hear what she would say if she had to walk a half a mile in my shoes. "Leave the personal stuff at home?" Really? Seriously?
Hmm...let's see...losing the person you've shared everything with for the last 9 years (the total time we were together)...check...going through bankruptcy, knowing that you have to move out of the home you've known for the last 6 years...check. One of those events alone is difficult enough to deal with. Try both at the same time. Fun, I tell you. Lots of fun.
"Leave the personal stuff at home." Bite me.
On the plus side for today, it is payday. So I get to buy groceries. Eating is good. Personal hygiene is good. So groceries are good.
Bah, I'm to the point of rambling; then again, isn't that the point of all this? Ah, well...back to work so I can go home and be distracted.
Have a nice day :)
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Meh...
So I had a status hearing today regarding my divorce. My paperwork is in perfect order, according to the Magistrate, yet my divorce is being put on hold. Why, you may ask? Because our jointly-filed bankruptcy isn't discharged yet. On the plus side, I had a gift card for Longhorn Steakhouse, so I went there for lunch. Mmm...steak...
So, pro-tip for you crazy kids out there doing this for the first (or second, third, whathaveyou) time: Make sure your jointly-filed bankruptcy is fully discharged before filing for divorce. Or make sure your divorce is finalized before filing bankruptcy. Your call.
So, yeah, that cat is now out of the bag. Bankruptcy. Joy. Rapture.
Which, if you remember all the way back to yesterday, you'll recall where I mentioned how my home won't be mine for much longer? Yeah, I'm losing it. My home, that is. So, a quick checklist, if you will:
Seriously though, I'm really not looking to be hunted, let alone caught. I need to be alone for a bit. And I definitely don't need to even remotely entertain marriage again. I'm just not that good at it (obviously).
Well, that's all I feel like sharing today, so I think I'll go play WoW for a bit. Oh, yeah, I play World of Warcraft. A lot. And no, that's not the reason for the divorce. I believe that was going to happen regardless. Like I said, I'm not that good at it.
Ciao for now...
So, pro-tip for you crazy kids out there doing this for the first (or second, third, whathaveyou) time: Make sure your jointly-filed bankruptcy is fully discharged before filing for divorce. Or make sure your divorce is finalized before filing bankruptcy. Your call.
So, yeah, that cat is now out of the bag. Bankruptcy. Joy. Rapture.
Which, if you remember all the way back to yesterday, you'll recall where I mentioned how my home won't be mine for much longer? Yeah, I'm losing it. My home, that is. So, a quick checklist, if you will:
- 40
- 3rd Divorce
- Bankrupt
Seriously though, I'm really not looking to be hunted, let alone caught. I need to be alone for a bit. And I definitely don't need to even remotely entertain marriage again. I'm just not that good at it (obviously).
Well, that's all I feel like sharing today, so I think I'll go play WoW for a bit. Oh, yeah, I play World of Warcraft. A lot. And no, that's not the reason for the divorce. I believe that was going to happen regardless. Like I said, I'm not that good at it.
Ciao for now...
Monday, March 7, 2011
Welcome...
Good morning world, and welcome to Confessions of a 3X Loser.
No, this isn't a blog about weight loss. Confessions of a 3X Loser refers to my third failed marriage, where I am the loser. Not that there are any winners in divorce, but I needed a catchy title. Onward...
The beginning of the end of my marriage started last summer, when my wife of (then) 7 years informed me that she wanted a divorce. I went through all of the inital emotions, from anger (my cell phone's hi-speed impact with a loading dock can attest to that), to grief (sitting in the corner of my darkened office, crying like a little girl), to acceptance. Which is where I still am, roughly 9 months later.
My divorce will be final in two weeks. The whole transition has been amicable, which helps. It also helps that we've both been through a divorce or two before, and we're both adults. So there's no point in getting all bitchy with one another. Been here, done this. Three times now. And I'm only 40. Which definitely makes me "a catch". LOL
Anyway, the soon-to-be-ex-Mrs. Me expressed her desire to move out last weekend. So, she spent the past week packing what she wanted to take with her; I spent the past week bringing all that she wanted to take with her into the living room so she wouldn't have to deal with stairs, etc. She got her things packed up, and purged what she didn't wish to take with her. I picked up the U-Haul truck on Saturday morning, loaded her things up, moved them (and her), and unloaded it all, ensuring to set up her TV/computer, put her bed back together, etc. I returned the truck and went home.
It was a pretty stark moment for me. Here I was, in what is now (but won't be for long, more on that in another post) MY house. I'm sweaty, sore, and sad. So I got to work, after taking a bit of a break. I told the dogs that everything will be okay, and that we'll be fine (and believing it, I might add), and started purging things myself. There were things that she didn't want and that I didn't want, so these things found their way to a 45 gallon contractor's garbage bag. I filled 4 of 'em. Followed by vacuuming the living room.
I'm looking at my now mostly-empty living room, and made another decision. I need to simplify. My knees aren't what they used to be, and I'm basically tired of climbing stairs. So I move two of the three pieces of my bedroom set into my living room. My bed, and one dresser. The third piece (a chest of drawers) will come down probably next weekend, after I clean out the TV stand and purge yet more crap that I no longer need. So basically the downstairs of my house has become a large Studio apartment. As I purge more stuff, I'll bring the rest of what I plan on taking with me downstairs so I don't have to do that later. Good thing there's a bit of room...
Anyway, that's it for now. I hope you get something out of this, if not now then eventually. Life-lessons, a laugh or two, or maybe "wow, and I thought I was <fill in the blank here>". I hope I do too...
No, this isn't a blog about weight loss. Confessions of a 3X Loser refers to my third failed marriage, where I am the loser. Not that there are any winners in divorce, but I needed a catchy title. Onward...
The beginning of the end of my marriage started last summer, when my wife of (then) 7 years informed me that she wanted a divorce. I went through all of the inital emotions, from anger (my cell phone's hi-speed impact with a loading dock can attest to that), to grief (sitting in the corner of my darkened office, crying like a little girl), to acceptance. Which is where I still am, roughly 9 months later.
My divorce will be final in two weeks. The whole transition has been amicable, which helps. It also helps that we've both been through a divorce or two before, and we're both adults. So there's no point in getting all bitchy with one another. Been here, done this. Three times now. And I'm only 40. Which definitely makes me "a catch". LOL
Anyway, the soon-to-be-ex-Mrs. Me expressed her desire to move out last weekend. So, she spent the past week packing what she wanted to take with her; I spent the past week bringing all that she wanted to take with her into the living room so she wouldn't have to deal with stairs, etc. She got her things packed up, and purged what she didn't wish to take with her. I picked up the U-Haul truck on Saturday morning, loaded her things up, moved them (and her), and unloaded it all, ensuring to set up her TV/computer, put her bed back together, etc. I returned the truck and went home.
It was a pretty stark moment for me. Here I was, in what is now (but won't be for long, more on that in another post) MY house. I'm sweaty, sore, and sad. So I got to work, after taking a bit of a break. I told the dogs that everything will be okay, and that we'll be fine (and believing it, I might add), and started purging things myself. There were things that she didn't want and that I didn't want, so these things found their way to a 45 gallon contractor's garbage bag. I filled 4 of 'em. Followed by vacuuming the living room.
I'm looking at my now mostly-empty living room, and made another decision. I need to simplify. My knees aren't what they used to be, and I'm basically tired of climbing stairs. So I move two of the three pieces of my bedroom set into my living room. My bed, and one dresser. The third piece (a chest of drawers) will come down probably next weekend, after I clean out the TV stand and purge yet more crap that I no longer need. So basically the downstairs of my house has become a large Studio apartment. As I purge more stuff, I'll bring the rest of what I plan on taking with me downstairs so I don't have to do that later. Good thing there's a bit of room...
Anyway, that's it for now. I hope you get something out of this, if not now then eventually. Life-lessons, a laugh or two, or maybe "wow, and I thought I was <fill in the blank here>". I hope I do too...
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