Worst Person Ever

And the award goes to... MELISSA ARRINGTON!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Yes, I know 'retard' is a word that should not be used, but this woman earned it.

Wishful Thinking

Having an administrative day today and during the cleaning/organizational process, I found these words that I must have scrawled down some time ago:

I’m over the caring
And the concern

I’m over it all,
Long may you burn

Gee, I wonder what they reference? They strike me as funny because they are so far from the truth. I wish I could get to a point where I was done ‘caring’, but when and if that will happen is anyone’s guess.

What She Said

Exactly! This is what I've been saying all along. Our country needs inspirational leadership and I can guarantee (warning: this is not a guarantee) you it is not going to come from Hillary. She is far too divisive a figure to get this country back on track.

Haunted by Loneliness

As an introvert, one would think that loneliness would not be an issue, but I am really struggling with it as of late. I have this incredible nagging fear, almost paranoia that I am going to be alone for the rest of my life. And frankly, I do not want to be alone. I do not want to grow old (older…) without someone by my side. I feel like there is an incredible void in my life and unfortunately, no amount of alcohol can sate it…

Drumbeat

I’m getting so sick of this shit. Today the main headline of the Kansas City Star (link is not working-just take my word for it) stated, “Fewer Hit with Iran Bomb”. Talk about inflammatory rhetoric. Oddly, the first sentence of the article stated that the controversial EFPs were only “thought to come from Iran". This led me to write the editors a brief note:

I’m more than a little confused by the choice of today’s headline (Fewer Hit With Iran Bomb) because the first sentence of the article seems to contradict the premise of the headline by saying the bombs are only “thought to come” from Iran. So which is it, are the bombs from Iran or not? After a cursory search on the internet, it seems that there are plenty of conflicting reports as to the actual origin of the EFPs. Is the Star trying to rush us into another war, aren’t two enough for now? The last thing this country needs is more irresponsible reporting, saber rattling, and misinformation.

Seriously, after the whole WMD debacle and the complicity of the media especially the supposedly liberal New York Times, wouldn’t you think that editors and publishers would be a little more reluctant to print misleading war mongering headlines? Judging from today’s fish wrap, apparently the answer is no. Enough is enough, this shit has got to stop

The Natural Progression of Things, Part 2

I always expect the Sunday New York Times to have one or two heart wrenching articles per issue, but I did not expect to find this week’s bawler in the travel section. 36 hours in Breckenridge. Cool, I can’t wait to see some of our old haunts mentioned. Maybe they will talk about the Brown, or the Hearthstone, or the St. Bernard. The memories came flooding back; back to the days of unfiltered Fat Tire, skinny skis, and mountain bikes without shocks. Days spent idling, afternoons searching for free happy hour buffets, and drunken nights ending at the Shoebox. Crap, back to the days when I actually had hair. Unfortunately, of the 13 or 14 places mentioned, I knew only two of them. We are not talking about a small town being razed here, just apparently, the natural progression of things. I was always saddened by the turnover of people in my beloved resort town due to its seasonality, but the turnover of businesses and places is maddening. I remember scaring my ex-father in law during a conversation when I spoke venomously about the development in town and the lack of control with which it was happening. I remember going in the direction of ‘Monkey Wrench Gang’ in the conversation and him looking at me like I was insane.

We used to live in French Creek, an area with crappy modular homes that were essentially one step above a trailer. One step above a trailer, but had million dollar views of the Ten Mile Range. We paid way too much rent to a Boulder slum lord, but could hop on a mountain bike and be away from civilization within 10 minutes. I would ride the old flume trails which the miners had used to sluice away refuse and transport goods. One day I came ripping around one of the bends and almost decapitated myself on a mocked up barbed wire fence that a developer had put in place to curtail trail usage. We thought the area was National Forest, we were wrong. Apparently, a small portion of the trail ran across an area that was to become trophy homes. A debate in City Council ensued and as always, the little guy lost. The trail was destroyed; errr, re-routed and the vacation homes went in. This story replayed itself throughout Breckenridge and Summit County year after year. Most of us worked two and three jobs in order to enjoy the quality of life, only to have it slowly eroded by money, greed, and power.

I have not been back in years. I have avoided returning for two reasons. One of course, is her. As anyone who has ever read a word I have written knows, those wounds are far from healed, and visiting the town of Breckenridge would probably be akin to hopping in an acid bath after running through a scrub oak field. The other is my fear. I fear the town I remember and hold so dear will be gone, replaced by corporate restaurants and glamorous resorts, gondolas instead of t-bars. Sadly, the two reasons are intertwined; without the tangible evidence of our years there together did those pictures in my mind really occur? Were those days real or just some odd waking dreams? Frankly, I am not certain anymore.

The Natural Progression of Things

That is the natural progression of things. That is the phrase she used the other day to help defend her position on the whole ‘you are not my friend, you are nothing’ dust up. Her reasoning is that we have moved on, we do not need to share things with each other anymore; we are not each others release. On face value, her argument is valid. We should make other friends and have other relationships, I wholly agree with that statement. It would be irresponsible to oneself to not try to move on. However, she blew a big hole in her own argument when she said ‘our relationship now is based on the children and doing what is best for them.’ So, doing what is best for the children consists of hiding behind a murky statement and letting your ex suffer mightily for several weeks. Fine. Doing what is best for the children also seems to consist of one word answers to questions about their well-being and one word answers about what is going on in their lives. Doing what is best for the children is being evasive about your whereabouts (can you say crack house?). Doing what is best for the children is shielding them from their father? In my mind, doing what is best for the child does not involve divorce. That being said, doing what is best for the children is having an adult relationship between ex spouses. Doing what is best for the children is providing an example to them on how to behave in bad circumstances. Her parents do it, her siblings do it, my parents do it, and my sister does it. Why can’t the two of us? I’m sure that her parents and siblings would love to shout me down and I’m sure my family feels the same way, but none of them do. They act like adults and continue to communicate as such. I do not understand why she is so guarded with her emotions and with the way she communicates to me. I can only imagine what it is going to be like when we have to discuss plans for college or perhaps planning a marriage.

So, Soph is getting married.
Yes.
How do you feel about her fiancé?
Good.
Do you feel the relationship can last?
Maybe.
Can you expand on that?
Yes.
Will you?
No.
Why won’t you?
You’re not my friend anymore. I only talk like that with others.
Whatever, where do I send the check?

She does not seem to understand that we need to be friends. Actually, we need to be more than friends. I need to be her first phone call when something happens involving the kids. Not the call 24 hours later after all is resolved. Maybe she is afraid. Maybe she is fearful of her emotions. Maybe she worries that she will lose her temper with me and tell me just where to go and what to do with my thoughts. I wish she would. Maybe she is fearful because of some other reason, like maybe she knows she made a mistake or maybe she knows there is still something there. Regardless, I know the natural progression of things does not involve terminating an 18 year relationship because of needing to move on, while blatantly disregarding the children’s well being. The children she supposedly made all these decisions to protect in the first place. It’s so thick; I can even smell the irony.

Both Barrels

Well, I got an explanation. It wasn’t the one I wanted, but it worked. And, as I stated before, I accept her decision, but do not agree with it. There is a bigger picture issue however and that is her behavior. She understood from five minutes after the incident happened exactly how hurt I was and she could have made it right. Instead she chose to let it fester. To let me continue to agonize over the comments she made. I took the high road until today. I let her have it. I told her how juvenile her behavior was and how disappointed I was in her that she would choose to act in that manner. How a normal person can ignore plea after plea from someone that she has three children with and has had a relationship with for over 18 years is beyond me. She knew how much I hurt and she just left me twisting. Rightfully, I will never view her in the same light…

I interrupt this regularly scheduled bitchfest to actually talk to her and them.

I’m not sure if that made it better or worse. I’ll stick with better for now. The kids sounded good and I believe we have reached some common ground. Is it possible to simultaneously want to strangle someone while holding them with every ounce of love and caring in your body? If so, I need to do that right now. I want to strangle her for letting me suffer for the past 18 days and I want to hold her because it is her and there is no one else like her. I’m a fucking mess and I hate it. Will it ever get any easier? She just completely devastated the last 2+ weeks of my life and yet, I want nothing more than to hold her close to me. It’s a sickness that I would not wish on my worst enemy which incidentally is probably her. Tears again...

Crickets

Still not a chirp from her or them. Growing desperate. I need an explanation of some kind. Anything, please.

Those Were the Days

Just a thought, but how far have we truly progressed from the days of the hunter/gatherers? Of course, technologically there is no argument against the progress we have made, but what about actual satisfaction taken from life? Personally, I think I would rather have an average life span of 37 years and be able to take a large level of satisfaction from providing for my family by slaying a moose by hand versus staring at a computer screen all day or trying to sell someone insurance. Life was certainly much more difficult in those days, but in terms of job satisfaction, I’ll take the hunting and gathering over driving my SUV to Piggly Wiggly to buy a frozen pizza. That’s just me though.

Headed in the Right Direction?

It’s been 11 days since she declared me persona non grata. You know, the whole ‘you’re not my friend’ incident and she is sticking to her guns. Any attempt by me at simple conversation, friendly conversation is met with steely silence or brusque words. Worse yet, she has made no attempt to contact me other then when I leave a message to please return my call or text. No big deal except that she controls my line of communication with the kids. I have continued to search for reasons for her behavior, playing through our recent conversations and my recent actions. Nothing jumps to the forefront of my mind. I continue to try to work beyond this, but am struggling mightily.

In the past, I would really let this affect everything I did. I would have a hard time getting out of bed, functioning at work, etc.; the typical behavior of a depressed individual. It was also during that time of my life that I began searching, searching for reasons why I felt that way, and searching for ways to deal with it. The four Noble Truths of Buddhism came to mind recently to help me explain this situation:

1. Suffering exists
2. Suffering arises from attachment to desires
3. Suffering ceases when attachment to desire ceases
4. Freedom from suffering is possible by practicing the Eightfold Path

According to Buddha, I have brought on this suffering through my attachment to desire. The desire of course, is her. When it will cease is anyone’s guess as I am not actively ‘practicing the Eightfold Path’. Hopefully there are ways around the path, maybe a shortcut, or tunnel, or bridge or something. Really, anything would work, I am just so sick of hurting. Ironically, these are the eight ideals that must be practiced:

Right View
Right Thought
Right Speech
Right Action
Right Livelihood
Right Effort
Right Mindfulness
Right Contemplation

Maybe I am closer than I thought…

So you draw a paycheck for that? Really???

Hillary wins the New Hampshire primary and this is what we get from Maureen Dowd one of the supposed liberal columnists at the New York Times. Really?!? Miss Dowd wonders whether Hill can cry her way into the White House. Classy. Wow, did you come up with that all by yourself or is this really just William “I am wrong about everything all the time” Kristol’s ghost writing? Aren’t you supposed to be on our side? I am no Hillary fan. In fact, I think the only way a Republican can win in 2008 is if the Dems are dumb enough to nominate her (which incidentally, we are…) because she and Bill are such polarizing figures. People who haven’t voted since the 50’s will be compelled to come out and vote. Not actually vote ‘for’ a candidate, but vote ‘against’ a Clinton. Talk about single issue voters! As for the victory in New Hampshire, isn’t it possible (and I’m not the first to pose this question) that perhaps some of Hillary’s votes came as a backlash against the exact treatment that Dowd gives her today? Maybe, Americans are sick of reading and hearing bullsh*t misogynistic, sexist rants or in the case of Obama, bullsh*t racist, ageist rants? Here is a simple suggestion to journalists and inside the beltway pundits everywhere: try actually reporting and opining on the substantive issues in this election aside from race and gender. Just a thought. Our country is in a historically precarious situation given both the domestic and international climate that we have created and all we get is the Entertainment Tonight version of the candidates. Seriously, when was the last time you read a column detailing John Edwards stance on poverty and the ideas he has to help alleviate the problem. Now compare that to the last time you heard a talking head make some snide reference to the $400 haircut. Case closed.

Soul Sickness, Part 2

The one thing that I have determined as I struggle with the decision about whether or not to move back to Ohio is that it is taking the fun out of the rest of my life. It has become all-consuming and utterly energy draining. Very positive things have been happening to me from a vocational perspective and yet, I have nothing. No palpable excitement, no sense of accomplishment, and no satisfaction for the fruits of my labor. Why do I continue to let her affect me this way? I wish I could say that I am done letting her win, but she has already won the most important battle; she controls the kids. She controls my access to them and she controls the way they view their father. A week ago I would have given her the benefit of the doubt as to whether she would intentionally use the kids against me. Obviously, her behavior has altered my thinking on that topic. I always thought she would be above it. Apparently not…

Divorced from Reality

Divorced from reality. Normally I would use that phrase to describe myself, but something occurred recently in my life that helped me to change that perspective. She did something horrible to me. Intentionally cruel it would seem.

What do you mean you are not going to be home when I drop off the kids?
I have plans.
Where? With who?
None of your business.
C’mon, I’m your friend. Tell me. I don’t care if you’re having a relationship.
It’s none of your business.
I’m your friend, what’s the big deal?
You’re not my friend. You’re not my confidante or whatever. You’re NOTHING.

Utter speechlessness

I told her that was the most hurtful thing anyone had ever said to me. I told her that I considered her my closest friend. I asked for an apology and got nothing. I told her that regardless, I would always be there for her. I wrote her a long email blaming myself for bringing that behavior out in her. I didn’t tell her about the long handwritten letter I had composed last week after she told me I had a habit of always saying the wrong thing. I didn’t tell her that the letter praised her and thanked her for helping me get my life on the right track, to grow emotionally, and learn to cope with things properly. I also didn’t tell her that I shredded the letter and she will never see it. I also didn’t tell her I am still deeply in love with her, but she knows anyway. Finally, after two virtually sleepless nights I began to think. Until today I had given her a pass on the divorce. It had been my fault, my problem. I had caused it. But a new thought started to cross my mind. She was to blame as well. A friend said to me, that they all knew there was blame to be shared. I told him that unfortunately I had not been included in that group—until now.

She has issues. Physical issues and now it is evident to me, mental issues. She needs help. I told her that and received the exact response I anticipated. Utter silence, anger barely below the surface and subtle defensiveness. I told her that she had given me the same advice and that I had not wanted to hear it, but that it had also helped immensely. She said that she talks to her siblings and parents. I said she still needs to talk to a professional. She won’t until someone else tells her. She won’t listen to me. I am NOTHING, she told me so herself. I told her I was extremely worried about her, but I didn’t tell her how concerned I was about the children. Again she doesn’t want to hear that from someone she considers to be NOTHING. I told her she needs to let things out; to quit internalizing everything. She said that is just the way she is. I know that particular behavior is not healthy and that she needs to change for her own sake, but she doesn’t want to hear that from me because we all know what she thinks of me. I didn’t tell her that she is emotionally stunted and that trying to deal with her is like trying to deal with an adolescent. I didn’t ask her if she thought it was odd that her brother who is of very similar personality was going through a divorce as well. Somewhere inside she knows all of those things. I also didn’t tell her that her comments hurt me more than the divorce, literally broke anew my already shredded heart, but I hope that somewhere she knows that.

Yet, again I need to thank her. I am certain that her comment was not meant to have any positive affect on me, but it did. Thank you for helping to stop me from blaming myself. Through your actions you have allowed me to see the person that I never allowed myself to see. That person is me. A genuine, caring, compassionate, loving, human being, a human being who is in touch with his emotions and works to deal with them properly. Now I want her to join me because I miss her. I miss hearing her stupid laugh and I miss her meandering style of story telling. I miss her cooking. I miss her smell. I miss her hair clogging the shower drain. I miss her ratty-ass sweat pants and her curled form on the couch watching some mindless television program. I miss her character, her wit and her smile. Mainly though, I just miss her. Finally, I will send her this. I won’t just send a link to the blog, because she won’t visit. She won’t respond; she never does. Why would she when she can just stuff this somewhere deep inside her and let it fester until she explodes?

RIP

For anyone that cares: This is the meaning of my lame username. Pay your respects...