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This is my blog. I just went through a divorce; it was the worst thing that has yet to happen to me. This is me dealing with it and life. It's my blog; I write about what I want. I hope you enjoy. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** The above was me about three years ago. It is the most up to date digital photo I have.
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| My hands were buried in the dirt pulling roots out this afternoon. I have two flower boxes in the front of my house that until today had no flowers in them. Dirt with a few pesky weeds thrown in for color adorned the face of my house. It was time to put a smile on my house instead of the weedy frown that was that there. I declared war on the weeds. My pitchfork tore the earth and turned it to get all that nice oxygen down in it. Dad raked the clods into smaller manageable clods, and then, we started planting. The earth felt hard and dry in my hands. It seemed more like rocks than soil, and occasionally, it was a rock covered in dirt. The flower beds were tilled, and the ground looked happy. With all the weeds, those beds were sad. So, after three trips to the home depot, we had Petunias and Impatiens to plant. They are very colorful little plants that say we are happy, come be happy with us. As I have said, my dirt was hard and dry. It was a brown that reminded me more of clay than actual soil. To combat this, I bought this planting soil with fertilizer in it. We dug a hole for the little plants and put this soil down around the flowers. They are so small, but their tags say they will spread ten to twelve inches on the ground. So, we spaced them accordingly. As I put the plant in the ground and covered it up, I realized that I felt pretty good about myself. I stood up to wipe a drip of sweat out of my eye and looked around. Kids were playing softball down the street. My neighbor was mowing, and my other neighbor was working on a friends car in his garage. My cats were sitting in the window watching their Dad work. Occasionally, they meowed at the bird that lives in our tree. My dad was getting the weed blocker cloth down on the flower bed we just finished. The sun was shining down, and the lawn was freshly mowed. A slight breeze began to blow; it brought peace on its back to share with me. I was happy today getting dirty in the soil. I was proud of the yard that I mowed and the work done on the house. It is a shame that I am going to have sell this house. I can't afford it on my own, and my neighborhood isn't really a good place to be a single guy. I will miss this place with all the good and bad memories in it. But I will miss the work that I do on this place the most. Every house needs work done, but this is my first house. I had plans for this house that will never get accomplished. The bar in the basement won't be built by me. This house was bought as project that a happy married couple interested in Real Estate could work on together. We put a lot of work into this house. We were proud of it. Now, I work on this house, and I am proud of it. Every day that I get to come home to this house is joy for me. Now, when I come home, I will have a bright, festive walkway to my house. I spent ten minutes tonight admiring the work that Dad and I did. It brought a smile to my face because I may not get to keep the house, but the house gets to keep a piece of me. Grifter |
| My life has no meaning. Last night, I went looking for it. I used a fine tooth comb to sift through my memories. It wasn't there. I thought maybe one of the cats hid it around the house. Nope, they hadn't seen it either. I thought I saw it near my heart, but that was just a little speck of hope. When I took my shoes off, it wasn't meaning that filled the room. So, to reiterate, my life is meaningless. I thought my life had meaning during the marriage. I was a husband, and someday, I would be a father. Being a husband and a father is all that I wanted from life since I realized that owning a dinosaur ranch and basketball farming was not in the cards. My father and mother are my heros, and despite any setbacks or nerve killing diseases, they love their life. They have a great life, and I felt that if I followed their example, I would have a great life. Well, God and the universe have other plans for me. So, I am looking for meaning in my life. How do I look for a purpose? I have decided to ask people. I am not looking for majestic/Mother Teresa/Ghandi type meanings of life. I am looking for what makes a person happy. Why do you get up in the morning? My parent's purpose was to provide for their kids. This is not what I am looking for. People do find meaning in their children. But that is too easy an answer. My father was also very active in a slow pitch softball league. He loved playing in those games, and he was happy when he was with his team. This is what I am looking for. My uncle's kids are the most important thing in his life. Most of what he does is for them. However, golf is what he does for himself. So, what do people do for themselves? What is the spice in someone's life? I want to know. So, I will have to ask, and maybe in the search for other people's happiness, I will find my own meaning. Grifter |
| I hate to exercise. I despise running. It is excrutiating for me to go to the gym. I am an overweight lazy guy with an affection for fatty, buttery foods. I also hate that I am heavier than I should be. So, if I have to reinvent myself as a single guy, why not go beyond changing just the relationship status. This blog is part of changes that I am making and struggling through in my life. Exercise is part of that change. I still hate it, but I do it. I am still battling the last little bit of my Poison Ivy irritation, so I haven't signed up for Yoga yet. I am not going to the gym due to the rash on my arms. Passing on that Poison Ivy at the gym is just unacceptable. So, I am left with running. My wife had a track mapped out around our neighborhood that is approximately two miles. Until the Ivy rash is gone, I am running that track. Shockingly, I am starting to like it. It is painful, and my body begs me to quit with every passing step. That is until I hit that certain spot where the runner's high kicks in. My endorphins take over, and I keep going. I am only running two miles now, but I can see that it will not be long before I am running more. Last night was even more shocking because I went home as lazy as I have ever been. But about six o'clock, I was getting so edgy that I couldn't sit still. I realized that my body wanted to run. So, I did. It amazed me. I have never just gone for a jog in my life. So, I guess I am growing as a person, and some changes are starting to become permanent. The feeling of accomplishment at the end is what drives one of my co-workers. He loves to look back and see what he has achieved. That isn't what I like most. I love the feeling of accomplishment, but the most important thing for me is my willpower overcoming my laziness and my pain. By committing myself to a task and then completing it, I have proof that I can make positive changes in my life. During the marriage, I have lost a lot of self esteem and self worth. To fight through my laziness and my dislike for running is a huge accomplishment for me. I have converted myself from hating running to looking forward to my run tomorrow night. I am taking it slow so that I don't bite off more than I can chew, but I have made one positive adjustment in my life. Just getting off my lazy butt and running has shown me that I can change for the better, and at this moment in my life, I have the opportunity to refine myself. I can redefine who I am and work towards a life that I want to have. Book Review John Scalzi's The Old Man's War is the best science fiction book that I have read in a long time. I read a lot of science fiction and fantasy novels. (More on that at a later date.) Most of the science fiction that I have read lately is about exploring worlds and technology. To me, they read more like a travel guide than a novel. Scalzi, however, wrote a story. It read so fast for me. I am a slow reader, and if I can put down 10 - 20 pages per day, then I am doing a lot of reading. Old Man's War, I read, at the least, 50 pages per day. It was smooth with great writing. The use of science and technology blended into the story. I did not have to stop and digest the new physics or the new technology. The scenery in the book was lacking, but I felt this added more to the feel of his battle-weary, traveling soldier. It was just another fight on another world against another enemy. The main character was great I thought. He was believable, and he took his journey in stride. He evolved through the story and had great support from the cast of characters. The book was a great read, and I highly recommend it. I went out and picked up the sequel as soon as I finished it. John Scalzi has brought me back into the sci fi fold. This book was funny, sad and engrossing. If you like science fiction, pick this book up. |
| Taking two cats through the rain to the vet's office is not fun. I have one carrier and two cats. So, Little Bit went into the carrier, and white cat got to ride in my arms. White cat struggled and clawed to get away from me the whole time, and Little Bit just whined very loudly. But they need their booster shots, so we all had to pile into the clinic and just try to make the best of it. My wife brought both cats and a dog into our marriage. Over the course of our relationship, I took care of the cats, and we split duties on taking care of the dog. When she left, she took the dog. That is okay. I am a cat person. I loved that dog, but he meant a lot to my wife. I know he is helping her get through this. She left the cats with me. Why? I don't know, but I am glad she did. So, this was the first time that I have taken the cats to the vet. They were scared and shed everywhere. Little Bit was visibly shaking. It was a very tense little room for the animals. But then the doctor walked in. She smiled at me and introduced herself to the cats. They relaxed, and I relaxed. Yesterday, I said that all I wanted was to have dinner across from a pretty lady? Well, I met that lady at the animal clinic. She was beautiful, and she had this girl next door/high school cheerleader thing going on. Plus, she was a doctor of veternary medicine, which is an obvious indication of intelligence. To top it all off, she had a great smile. A woman's smile has always been dangerous to me. My wife has a great smile, and all of my past love's had smiles that melted my heart. She, however, was married. She had the ring on her hand, and that is a great thing. As much as I would love for my divorce to be final, it is not. So, once again, no dating is the rule. My marriage is over but not legally. According to my morals, I am still married, so to date another woman would be cheating. I have lost a lot in going through this divorce, but I have not lost what is right and what is wrong. It is harder every day to do what is right. It is hard not to call and yell at my wife, to hurt her as she hurt me. It is difficult to get up and go to work. It is awful to exercise, and it sucks having to pay bills that aren't mine. But all I really have is my opinion of who I am. To do anything stated above would violate my sense of right and wrong. To date someone now (whether my wife is dating or not) would not be fair to me or to that person. So, I thanked the beautiful doctor, and I went home with the cats. I played with them and gave them treats. White cat and I took a nap together, and Little Bit raced me up the stairs twice. They don't fill the space left by the woman that I love, but they make the days easier. I woke this morning to the sun shining and to my cats curled up at the end of the bed cuddling my legs. Little Bit stretched and yawned. White cat just blinked at me. My marriage is dead, but two little blessings from that marriage were waiting at the end of the bed for their morning treat. While it has changed who I am and scarred my soul, a marriage that brought these two furballs into my life can't be all bad. |
| I don't want to write, which is why I really should blog right now. I don't want to think about what to say, and I don't want to look at life around me right now. I want to go back to bed. I was late to work, and I didn't sleep well. I forgot my headphones at home, and my cats need to visit the vet tonight. I am still sore from my run last night, and I am so lonely. I guess this is one of the down days on the roller coaster ride of divorce. I am very lonely right now, but mostly, I am mad at myself. I put myself into a situation where I did not develop friends outside of work OR outside of the marriage. That is not who I am. I am not Mr. Popular, but I have always had a social circle. Now, my social circle is at the least two and a half hours away. I have friends at work that are becoming more than just colleagues, so I am re-building a network of friends. It is just taking way too long, though. My patience is gone today. Also, I saw a beautiful woman out jogging last night. It just reminded me of the quagmire of my life. I wanted to say hi to her and get to know her. Maybe we could get a cup of coffee. It is like I am in puberty all over again. It just seems as if women are everywhere, and they are all gorgeous. However, much like during puberty, I can't do anything about it. I am still married, so no dating. So, I have no friends, and I am attracted to pretty much any woman that walks upright. Frustration is too lenient a word for how I feel. I have a huge day at work ahead of me. I have to get the cats to the pet clinic tonight, and I need a hair cut. What I really want is to sit across a table from an interesting woman who I am attracted to. I want to laugh and drink wine, and then kiss her at the end of the evening. But the person that I am knows that is wrong. So, I will put in a long day at work, and I will take the cats to the vet. Then, I will sit in my chair to read before bedtime with my white cat curled in my lap. The calico cat will rub herself on my legs, and the day will end. It won't be ground breaking; my divorce will not be any closer to finished, and my heart won't be completely healed. I will, however, have the purred appreciation of the two four-legged women who greet me every day when I get home from work, and that will be enough to say it was a good day. |
| Mother's day has always been an enigma to me. One day out of the year, we are supposed to vocalize our appreciation of a woman who takes care of us and looks out for us the other 364 days. It always seems funny that America has to remind itself to be thankful for the woman who gave us life. This mother's day holiday has been hard. I am going through a divorce, and my mother has been supportive. I could not have asked for better parents, but I will brag more on Dad around Father's day. My mother has multiple sclerosis. This is a disease that attacks the nerve fibers of the body making it difficult, if not impossible, for the nerves to carry the electrical impulses. My mom is in an advanced stage, and she has trouble walking. Her hands shake, and she has trouble chewing her food sometimes. However, she is still completely supportive. If I called her right now, asking for anything, she would find a way to get it for me. How much more blessed could I be? My mother has to work hard at things that I take for granted, and it is because of the strength she displays in facing those tasks that I am getting through this transition into divorcehood. My mom still tries to exercise, and she has to relearn how to do things she has done all her life. But everytime that I talk to her, she is happy for me because of my life's accomplishments. And the love she feels for me comes through in every word she says. So, I stood in front of the card counter last week to find a Hallmark card to give to my mom. But none of the cards had enough space to write what I had to say. So, I bought one and said thank you for showing me your strength. I am the person that I am because of the gifts she gave me. The gift of her strength is the one that I need now, and every time that I see her or that I speak to her, she gives me that gift. She reminds me that strength is not anger; it is doing what has to be done, whether I like it or not. And it is because of that, not only will I make it through this, but I will turn this part of my life into something better for myself. So, how do I thank someone for that? How do I convey to her that I love her and that her support is what is keeping me going? I can't. No words will ever describe what she means to me. All I can do is make her proud of me and live a life she would want for me. However, like most moms, she knows that one day a year it is expected of me to say thank you, but the other 364 days, the thank you is always in my heart. |
| Friday night was a great experience for me. Work has been hammering away at me, and I have been stuck in the quagmire of wondering about my wife. Is she happy? Is she taking care of herself? Plus, the evil poison ivy monster attacked me and left a bad case of the itches. So, I was ready for the weekend, and I sent out an e-mail to my co-workers wondering if anyone wanted to go to a charity social event. Donate ten bucks to a diabetes charity and get cheaper drinks at a very nice, upscale bar downtown. Well, only one of my co-workers replied. One told me that he had already made plans, but I could come along with him. This was a huge relief because I have no friends outside of work. I don't really have any close friends. I lost most of my close friends after moving back to St. Louis. All my college buddies are across the nation, and my friends from Michigan are...well, in Michigan. So, this saint...this humanitarian saved my weekend by a small act of kindness. A professional boxing match was what was in store for the evening. It was amazing. We stopped at a high rise in the central west end of St. Louis. It is a very cool part of town. Washington University is there, and the streets were crowded. We left the central west end to head downtown, so I did not get to experience that area. However, I know that I will be heading back there. When I am ready to re-enter the single life, I will be heading to part of town like the central west end. So, off to the Saavis center we went. We showed up and got tickets and beer. Four guys on the town equals beer in hand, women on mind. The arena was dark with beautiful woman all around us. It is amazing that at a boxing match (or any fighting event) gorgeous women get all dolled up and watch the fights. I usually think of fights as more of a man's type event. However, at that event, more than one gal was wearing a skirt so short, it could be my sweatband when I run. Then, we saw the ring girls, whose skirts made a rubberband look wide. But, we were there to see some boxing action. In eight events, we saw action in all but one. It was fast, furious and brutal. I was sober driving so I was aware of the action. Each fight was completely different than the others. Both athletes deserve great applause. I cannot imagine how tough it would be to get up under all those lights with hundreds of eyes watching you. What must it be like with those same eyes lighting up when you get hit? Some fights were sloppy slugfests; one match was a show in techinical excellence. That young man has a good career ahead of him. The best fight, however, was the come from behind win. This guy gets knocked down four times, but in the final round, he pours on all effort and lands a shot to the other boxer's chin. The underdog knocked him out. The underdog had only one chance of winning, and he pulled it out. The entire place jumped to its feet at once screaming and clapping. The underdog's corner men were jumping up and down. Strange men were hugging each other. What a moment! We left there to get some food and hit some clubs. Nothing eventful happened last night except for the fact that I felt alive. I had a night where I was happy. Let me tell you, that is something to be savored now. It was an amazing experience that definitely expanded my horizons. Usually, I prefer more intellectual pursuits (art museums, theatre) as entertainment, but there was something great about the experience. It was a different circle than I am normally part of. And it helped sweep the despair away. |
| Divorce is hell. It is depressing and a destruction of self esteem. But no one talks about the emotional roller coaster that a person goes through. Everyday is brand new, and I wake in the morning looking to create a new purpose in my life. This blog is my journal on my path to healing. I am a 29 year engineer who is painfully shy. I met a wonderful woman and got married. I thought my life was set. However, this woman and I are not right for each other. I am not going to bash her. She is a great gal, and I wish her the best. I am not going to analyze the problems that brought us to divorce. That is the past, and it is time to let it lie. So, what is the point of writing about my divorce? Well, I find peace in writing. I am on this website hoping to improve my writing, and in the small time that I have been here, I have found why writing brings me peace. Life is about the journey, not the destination. My favorite stories are about the journeys that the people take. Isn't that the point of a novel? The ending is great, but the journey to that ending is where I fall in love with the characters. Gus McCrae and Woodrow Call, Sam and Frodo and Jack Ryan aren't heroes because of the ending of the books. They stick with me because of the trouble that they pass through to get to the end. What makes them heroic is that they face hardship after hardship, and they keep going. The reason that these are such heroic actions is because it parallels real life so well. Sure, I don't have to wake up to face a cattle drive or recover a defecting Soviet submarine. But I have to wake up and face my problems, my obstacles. I have to face the day whether happiness, sadness or pain comes my way. Because there is so much more to this adventure called life than just today, and whatever happens at any moment could be the start of an amazing journey. The intent of this writing is for me to chronicle my passage into a healthy life. I do not know where it will take me, but I want to get back to the things that I enjoy. I would like to expand my experiences, also. Writing is a small part of the actual cure, but it is a big part of learning and keeping the lessons that come from healing. So, I plan to write on my journey to recovery. It won't be filled with outlaws, magical rings, elves, space stations, wizards from Chicago or autograph collectors from England. I won't have any boat trips with tigers or run any Maine diners. But, I will be getting back into shape. I will try Yoga to see if I like it. Creative writing courses are also in store. What else is on my horizon? I guess I will just have to make sure that I have a pair of decent shoes and an open mind for the path that lays ahead of me. It is time to stretch my personal boundaries and experience new things. This is my first step on that journey. |
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