MORE RANDOM THOUGHTS

TACTICAL

In the decade (!) that I have been disabled, there has been A LOT for me to get used to.  For instance, the non-chalantness that I had about my recollection of personal events and stories of others has went from a trait that I accounted to my “a-hole-osity”, to becoming something that I have grown to be concerned about.  But if living with Mookie Dee did anything, it confirmed for me that for the most part, keeping up with the worries of other people was still something I could disregard.  Mind you, this is not a statement of my lack of concern for the welfare of someone else, but that people are ever only concerned with the mundacity of their own lives and that they are not looking for anything other than pity and commiseration, confirmation that the antagonists in their lives are wrong and that they are really the better person in their struggles.  Meanwhile, as for them showing me the same kind of compassion and thoughtfulness that I gave them, well… now, THAT’S DIFFERENT.

I hark back to my marriage and how my ex-wife would often erect barriers to why things were more serious and involved for her and not so for me when it came to personal issues and obstacles.  Because I was a man, or because I did not have children(!!!) to think about, that my life experiences left me somehow freer and more unburdened than her, and that the social schisms that complicated my being as a black man was somehow less than hers as a black woman… yadda, yadda, yadda.  Anywho, at the time I would come to identify that line of thinking and belief as the height of selfishness in a personal relationship of any kind, and was codified for me by Arthur Schopenhauer's  comment on  character and determining if a person was a “scoundrel” and without a care for the concerns  or the well being of others.  Being of the opinion that a person who can rationalize their inherent selfishness as justifiable because of a perception that they are aggrieved by their own social beliefs or position, is a person that is best left to their own devices.

Were I to mention any real complaint of mine, like that of Portnoy's, it would be of excruciatingly dense and personal, but also one which I feel that I do not have the language to adequately describe (a small part is certainly owed to my injury, but enough with the excuse making) my emotions and their processes that I would attach to my grievances.   But I can say that straight away it has its roots in self-esteem, and as any real self-esteem conflict should have been settle in a functional adult, in one's high school years.

THE COOL BOYS BIT THE DUST… THEY COULDN’T TAKE THE PRESSURE…

Not that I know of, or would care to know of, how my peers from my junior high/high school days are doing.  I mean, a few of them that I did genuinely care for and thought of as friends, such as the Yalie, has indeed excelled. There is the one cat who I used to train with as an amateur who has found his way in his life.  And of course, there is the “Fly Skimmie Kimmie”.  Other than perhaps one or two more people, I am not aware of any other person from the “Era of My Discontent” that has gone on to achieve anything that one could consider remotely enviable as far as living an examined life.  I have knowledge of a few, some of whom you could call “the worst people of my existence”, who either fell into the abyss of urban poverty, or, who like my ex-Wife (and I am beginning to think the same of Pecan Sandie as well) who are barely staying afloat consciously, living their lives in that desperate pursuit of fulfillment and happiness.  Because of my off-brand style of thinking and philosophy, I think that I have been allowed to see people in fractals of character traits, the vision often contradicting their claims or their display of those traits of virtue and of good moral standards.

The only time that I take personal account of what people think of me, is when it is something that would verify any trait or characteristic that I may/may not posses.  Often times I picture myself as Jimmy, Quentin Tarantino's character in the movie “Pulp Fiction” trying to explain to Jules, (Samuel Jackson) that he doesn’t need to hear “how good his coffee is” when it comes to a  personal assessment from exurbs of my personal gallery.  How insulting is it when a person who is one of the unhappy “play-it-safers” that constantly wants without being able to recognize or ever trying to grasp the opportunities in front of them if they were somehow able to see them?  Where do they gain the authority to make a statement on my choices if they have never dared to explore their own hopes and dreams?

Peeking out on Facebook and seeing the griefings of people commenting on their lives, talking about how there is lack in some aspect of it, be it money, love or hope, and especially from those who I know of intimately, is a depressing act.  The salience of the meme’s and simple quotes from savvy social media promoters, expressing feelings that they would lay claim to as echoing the desires and wants in their own soul,  escapes me like that of a prey animal sudden dash to escape the clutches of a predator.  I just don’t get it… I never have and never will, at least not personally.  

...AS A SIDE NOTE

A story that broke this week about people who were rich living in public housing struck me as odd.  First off, the total amount of people who are “high-income” tenants is very, very low.  It smacks of a smear job not unlike that of “The Welfare Queen” myth of the 80’s.  Second, the folks who pay the higher rate of subsidized rents (like myself), represents a source of funding for the HUD (Housing and Urban Development) that the perennially underfunded agency would otherwise be without.  I don’t understand how this “problem” drew such attention?

Residents who pay the “market rate” for their residences (set at 80% of the median rents of similar residence in an area) provide HUD with over $90 million dollars a year.  And sure, it seems wild that there is a cat in Oxford, Nebraska who has assets totaling $1.6 million dollars (and a bank account holding $335,000 dollars..!), but I think that it also speaks to the liveaTACTICAL

In the decade (!) that I have been disabled, there has been A LOT for me to get used to. For instance, the non-chalantness that I had about my recollection of personal events and stories of others has went from a trait that I accounted to my “a-hole-osity”, to becoming something that I have grown to be concerned about. But if living with Mookie Dee did anything, it confirmed for me that for the most part, keeping up with the worries of other people was still something I could disregard. Mind you, this is not a statement of my lack of concern for the welfare of someone else, but that people are ever only concerned with the mundacity of their own lives and that they are not looking for anything other than pity and commiseration, confirmation that the antagonists in their lives are wrong and that they are really the better person in their struggles. Meanwhile, as for them showing me the same kind of compassion and thoughtfulness that I gave them, well… now, THAT’S DIFFERENT.

I hark back to my marriage and how my ex-wife would often erect barriers to why things were more serious and involved for her and not so for me when it came to personal issues and obstacles. Because I was a man, or because I did not have children(!!!) to think about, that my life experiences left me somehow freer and more unburdened than her, and that the social schisms that complicated my being as a black man was somehow less than hers as a black woman… yadda, yadda, yadda. Anywho, at the time I would come to identify that line of thinking and belief as the height of selfishness in a personal relationship of any kind, and was codified for me by Arthur Schopenhauer's comment on character and determining if a person was a “scoundrel” and without a care for the concerns or the well being of others. Being of the opinion that a person who can rationalize their inherent selfishness as justifiable because of a perception that they are aggrieved by their own social beliefs or position, is a person that is best left to their own devices.


Were I to mention any real complaint of mine, like Portnoy, it would be of excruciatingly dense and personal, but also one which I feel that I do not have the language to adequately describe (a small part is certainly owed to my injury, but enough with the excuse making) my emotions and their processes that I would attach to my grievances. But I can say that straight away it has its roots in self-esteem, and as any real self-esteem conflict should in an adult, in high school.

THE COOL BOYS BIT THE DUST… THEY COULDN’T TAKE THE PRESSURE…

Not that I know of, or would care to know of, how my peers from my junior high/high school days are doing. I mean, a few of them that I did genuinely care for and thought of as friends, such as the Yalie, has indeed excelled. There is the one cat who I used to train with as an amateur who has found his way in his life. And of course, there is the “Fly Skimmie Kimmie”. Other than perhaps one or two more people, I am not aware of any other person from the “Era of My Discontent” that has gone on to achieve anything that one could consider remotely enviable as far as living an examined life. I have knowledge of a few, some of whom you could call “the worst people of my existence”, who either fell into the abyss of urban poverty, or, who like my ex-Wife (and I am beginning to think the same of Pecan Sandie as well) who are barely staying afloat consciously, living their lives in that desperate pursuit of fulfillment and happiness. Because of my off-brand style of thinking and philosophy, I think that I have been allowed to see people in fractals of character traits, the vision often contradicting their claims or their display of those traits of virtue and of good moral standards.

The only time that I take personal account of what people think of me, is when it is something that would verify any trait or characteristic that I may/may not posses. Often times I picture myself as Jimmy, Quentin Tarantino's character in the movie “Pulp Fiction” trying to explain to Jules, (Samuel Jackson) that he doesn’t need to hear “how good his coffee is” when it comes to a personal assessment from exurbs of my personal gallery. How insulting is it when a person who is one of the unhappy “play-it-safers” that constantly wants without being able to recognize or ever trying to grasp the opportunities in front of them if they were somehow able to see them? Where do they gain the authority to make a statement on my choices if they have never dared to explore their own hopes and dreams?

Peeking out on Facebook and seeing the griefings of people commenting on their lives, talking about how there is lack in some aspect of it, be it money, love or hope, and especially from those who I know of intimately, is a depressing act. The salience of the meme’s and simple quotes from savvy social media promoters, expressing feelings that they would lay claim to as echoing the desires and wants in their own soul, escapes me like that of a prey animal sudden dash to escape the clutches of a predator. I just don’t get it… I never have and never will, at least not personally.

...AS A SIDE NOTE

A story that broke this week about people who were rich living in public housing struck me as odd. First off, the total amount of people who are “high-income” tenants is very, very low. It smacks of a smear job not unlike that of “The Welfare Queen” myth of the 80’s. Second, the folks who pay the higher rate of subsidized rents (like myself), represents a source of funding for the HUD (Housing and Urban Development) that the perennially underfunded agency would otherwise be without. I don’t understand how this “problem” drew such attention?

Residents who pay the “market rate” for their residences (set at 80% of the median rents of similar residence in an area) provide HUD with over $90 million dollars a year. And sure, it seems wild that there is a cat in Oxford, Nebraska who has assets totaling $1.6 million dollars (and a bank account holding $335,000 dollars..!), but I think that it also speaks to the livability of public housing, as well as the industriousness of its residents. See, the thing is, where the people STARTED from is often overlooked, as they had to qualify to be granted public housing. For instance, I am living on disability and a part-time job. Going to school and eventually the jump to a full time profession, I have often wondered “why would I move?” I have no problems with my fellow residents and my tower is located within a 30 minute ride of wherever I want to go. So even as my presumptive income grows, I can’t see why I would want to move from where I am at, to just pay for the right to be in a different cramped apartment?

Anywho, I think that the investigation of HUD residents who are paying for their homes should not be a mark against the agency. I am sure that they weren’t well-off when they begin their residence. It seems that corporate welfare and tax dodgers at the top of the economy would bring in much more money and not hurt people who worked through the system.
bility of public housing, as well as the industriousness of its residents.  See, the thing is, where the people STARTED from is often overlooked, as they had to qualify to be granted public housing.  For instance, I am living on disability and a part-time job.  Going to school and eventually the jump to a full time profession, I have often wondered “why would I move?”  I have no problems with my fellow residents and my tower is located within a 30 minute ride of wherever I want to go.  So even as my presumptive income grows, I can’t see why I would want to move from where I am at, to just pay for the right to be in a different cramped apartment?

Anywho, I think that the investigation of HUD residents who are paying for their homes should not be a mark against the agency.  I am sure that they weren’t well-off when they begin their residence.  It seems that corporate welfare and tax dodgers at the top of the economy would bring in much more money and not hurt people who worked through the system.

STILL TRENDING THE ART OF SELLING

SO HAVE YOU MADE YOUR DECISION?

Once you have made your investment in me a substantial one, as with any shareholder/investor meeting you get voting shares and influence the direction that I go in, along with and including, our relationship.  So when things tank, it is not all about me and the fail as it is US and the fail.

Speaking objectively, the situation the I was in with my starter wife is like a very small percentage of what happens with men and women, as you never hear too much about cuckolded men anymore.  Not that they are not in existence just that the conversation has turn and men in general have been demonized.  And there was a time that I was among those who found the fault in how men conducted themselves in relationships.

Before and after my junior girls came along, I would make regular trips up either I-77 or I-95 to be in some way attached the Skye.  There was never any complaints about what I felt that I had to do because I not only was aware of the hulking responsibility of being a parent, but I also felt uncomfortable having to be associate with “that guy”.  You know, “that guy seems sketchy because he left his wife and children,” and man, that bothered me for a time.  Until I remember the humiliation and danger I felt when I was with my starter Wife, then I got over it.  But the reckless behavior that was responsible for KT and Lexxie’s birth was over the top for me.  So I made my decision to scrap bangin’ around and to settle down and try to be a better parent.  Still, I had to get over the sense of fail that I had about myself as a person.

There is no real excuse, IMO, to become a party to something that you have already determined is wrong, be it morally or simply because of your own personal convictions.  KT and Lexxie were signs that I had lost my way and that I really needed to find where I was going.  So when I plotted the strategic decision to return to the Motor, it was with the intention of being a better parent.  At the time, Nixxie and Pecan Sandie were both as understanding as you could expect and I was able to for several years keep up with my end of the bargain, visiting the my girls a couple of times each year and with Pecan Sandie being bold and forward enough to bring Lexxie to the Motor a time or two (in fact, even when I was involved with Tee Jay and Mookie Dee, more on that later).  Things were not optimal but they were what they were.

So from here I will gloss over Tee Jay’s time in my life, but only because the whole “I was not looking for it but what I was not looking for found me thing” does not fit the trending and will likely come up at another time.  But as with her, AKA, Nebraska, Mookie Dee, and SD also were informed of my “what’s what”, in a fashion that was as objective as I could be.  And this is part of the reason that maybe there is some ill will in my journal towards some women, because I do not feel like paying for your mistake with some other cat.  I can tell you a lot of “stuff” about me, not with the intention of deluding you but so I can also have a chance to “get it right”.  The whole “is anyone ever going to love me” thing was settled back in my nerdling years, so I can’t say that I have ever felt a burning need for a relationship at all.  They all sort of “happen” and I try to gauge if it is meant to be a part of my life as much as I would hope that they want me to be a part of theirs.

Another reason I seem harsh towards women recently, is that hey, if you have children and you are THAT concerned with the men you are involved with, then perhaps, I am just saying, you should not get involved with men.  See, I think that if you are the kind of woman who loses her sense of balance between her relationship with her children and that with her “whatever”, then she not only has problems with prioritizing her life, but she also has a problem in CHOOSING HER MEN.  And that is NOT my fault.

While it is bad enough that I shared it on Face Book (I say that because I don’t want an online image search to turn up my journal, so I am not going to post the picture here), the picture that I took with Princess and her two youngest boys to me said it all.  I was sitting there, stuffed from my meal, and along side of me were two boys mugging as the picture was taken.  I don’t know about you, but I don’t think that boys are going to purposely photobomb your picture unless they have a lot of affection for you (hey, that is one of the weird things about male bonding that makes crap like “Men are from Mars …” seem so sensible when it really does as much harm as it does good).  My thing is, “what could make them feel that way?”  Young children and housepets have this in common… that act on what they sense.  If these boys thought I was a crap human being, then they would not be able to feel the way they do around me.  And that is not something I am unfamiliar with.

From my starter wife’s oldest daughter, BJ, (who sweetly asked if she could change her last name to mine), to A-squared (Tee Jay’s girl), Lil’ Mook, and now the Princess’ two younger boys, I guess I am “good with kids”.  No big deal to me, because that IS how it is supposed to work, but I get a little annoyed when I have to listen to a woman tell me about their child(ren) and how they need to look out for them when trying to establish a relationship.  I truly believe that if you are that concerned that you are that shallowly rooted that a relationship would rip you from where you stand, and then don’t date.  Raise your kids and be about that, then.  BUT, if you are going to invite a relationship into your life, I don’t think you should be guided by your fears.  I mean, if someone has your attention and your interest (which should also include a willingness to invest), then you should make your decision and take action.

Action.  Yeah, I have been very irresponsible with some of the choices I have made.  Were both Nixxie and Pecan Sandie BOTH as irresponsible as I was??  Who is to say, other than the three of us really have tried to make things as good as possible for our children and that is that.

There are some women who lose themselves in relationships also worry about being “used” by the men that they meet.  While I do enjoy “the sexy time” and with “bells and whistles”, other than that, there is nothing I would “want” other than someone’s love.  I am hard to buy for only in that I get what I want on my own.  If you ask me could you purchase a gift for me and give you permission, then come with EXACTLY what I have asked for.  My first X-mas in Omaha really was cool because I got EXACTLY what I had asked for.  Nothing special, TV tables and griddle was among the gifts, but it blew my mind at the time and really increased the attachment I was holding onto with Nebraska.  See, if I want an Xbox, fancy sneakers or trendy clothes, you know who gets them?  Me, that’s who!!  And if you are with a cat who requires such purchases within the framework of being in a relationship with you, that again, is not my fault. 

And I cannot help but think about how few a f*cks I give about what your last man did.  After my starter wife and tried to get into one another, I quickly began to tire of hearing about BJ’s father and this cat “Billy” (no, notTHAT Billy!!) all the while I was “allegedly” her new man.  That experience served as an object lesson, a sign of someone who is a figment of their own imagination.

YOU ARE AWARE THAT YOU HAVE MADE THAT KIND OF REMARK TWICE

The only time I recall comparing Tee Jay with my starter wife was when I was getting ready to tell her that we were through.  At that time, the comparison was valid because she was getting ready to be my ex.  History has judged both that decision and the rationale behind it (it was a personal version of “Iraq having weapons of mass destruction” in justifying why I did what I did) to have been specious at best, epically and Tea Bag Santorum stupid at worst.  But in qualifying that, I find that when you find yourself making “my ex” comments in a NEW relationship, then that new relationship is more than likely going to run aground.

One of the things that I think when I hear “bad ex” stories is that there are a lot of unresolved PERSONAL ISSUES without involving the ex.  So good or bad comparisons are FAIL, and grounds enough for me to terminate our relationship.  That is why I coerced a decision out of my girlfriend about our “you and me” because the second time is when there has to be a consequence.  Now along with crap comparison, you also have to have consequences for when a fail behavior is repeated.  If not, you are setting yourself up for a reoccurrence of the same sh*tty behavior for a long time in, if not the length of, your relationship.

FILLER ISSUE

I drug myself to the gym yesterday afternoon (!!!) and got in a fairly decent workout considering I had taken a full three weeks off while KT was in town. It felt good to finally be burning off the fat and softness that had accumulated while I spent time with my daughter. Other than trying to figure out when I am going to take Flat Ruthie out, I have not really given much thought to my personal life. There really is not much to it. The people that complicated my life are in my past and the challenges that I face now are all part of my “mission to boldly go where no closed-head injury patient has gone before!” 

 Many of the pictures that I took of KT were mostly with my phone. Getting the camera out and ready was a bit too complicated to catch the moments that I really miss, like the shot of her looking out of the window as we went to the mall. I miss just LOOKING at my daughter and having her around was the most relaxed I have been since the last time that we were together!! Speaking of Flat Ruthie, if anyone desires to host her and take her around “the provincial town that you jog ‘round”, let me know either in the comment section or my personal email, markonit@aol.com. You can send me your address and she will be on her way for an adventure in your town before you know it! Hopefully I will motivate to go to school and get my classes for next fall and start to bear down and get ready for school.


(Look, the Knockout King does NOT need an excuse to be a part of any entry of mine, after all, he is the Knockout King!!) 


 Listening to the commentary provided by the annoying Emmanuel Steward, I get what he is talking about, as he criticizes the lack of excitement as this fight unfolded. As the video starts, one of the featured boxers he speaks of, Andy Lee, got his hat handed to him in a fight he was training for, so there goes how effective his sparring was!! And I never looked at fighters who wanted to be the “gym champ” with much respect. Show me something when the bright lights are on and the little gloves are brought out. So at :42 seconds of the video you get to see Randall Bailey doing what he does best, which is punch. What makes him so unique is the nature of his ability to punch. Unlike a Hearns, or a Tyson, or even a Duran, whose blend of power and savagery made their punching power almost superfluous, Bailey is a howitzer with each and every punch he throws, but he is not as complete a boxer as those that I mentioned. He is not going to “set up” his punches or put them together in a brilliant combination. He does not need to get you to look for “this” as he loads up on “that”. You know what is coming and all you have to do is not let it happen to you.


  I can imagine that (Who?!?) Mike Jones was busy taking advantage of his skill, moving and staying clear of the range of Randall Bailey’s power, pitty-pat punching and holding and all that mess. Still, the kind of power that Bailey carries does not depend on stamina, or any of the other things that make most a feared puncher. Like Julian Jackson, his power depends only on the opportunity for it to be deployed and once that happens…


At the 2:00 minute mark and I am going to quote Jim Lampley here, who says on the replay of the knockout punch, “When you take a shot like that from an authoritative puncher like Randall Bailey, good luck on the getting up!” And it is the replay of the punch at the 3:35 mark where the crowd gets to OOH! as they get to really see what had happened to Mike Jones (Who?!?) grill is the kind of sound that I used to have crowds making when I was boxing!! 


I guess I could explain why I cut the ties to people the way that I do and how comfortable I am with living with them being severed the way that they are. For example, I received a message from my sister in Chicago asking if she can come out here for a visit. So once I stopped repeating “you have got to be sh*tting me” to myself, I calmed down and thought about all the options at my disposal through which I can decline her request. She is struggling through the first year of her marriage but hey, THAT IS NOT MY PROBLEM. Sure, she whines enough on Face Book about her issues and I glance through her status updates, just to know how bad it is for her and to ready myself for when things begin to fall apart for her. And while I am not sure if they are crumbling, what I do know is that it is not a good sign that she wants to come to Omaha. When I went to walk her down the aisle, I PROMISED MYSELF that was the last time I would extend myself for her. There were other additional storylines that were at play that made me swear to myself that “this would be it”. I have always known how selfish that my sisters can be, and though we are the closest between her and our other two sisters, she still gets no pass from me. Besides, one of the things that crystallized while my daughter was here is that my margins are still razor-thin. I cannot guess wrong, and when past performance has indicated what may lay before me in such a consideration, it is a risk that I dare not take. 


 This, I may add, is definitely not the same as being risk-adverse. My decision has nothing to do with anything that has taken place in our past as much as it has to do with the future that I am out to make for myself. Speaking of which… I have not really been contemplating the various ups and downs of my personal life as everything is generally trending upwards for me. If anything, my biggest concerns are political. Using the social safety net as I am, and with cutting that net and letting everyone fall through seemingly the goal of the right, my worries tend to be about that more than about my own day-to-day. See, I am going to keep on going on, and on, and on, until I cannot go anymore. But I guess I can examine the more intimate details of my dealings with the world… just not going to happen in this entry! What I do figure is if KT had to watch Randall Bailey go all RANDALL BAILEY on someone, that others should have the same opportunity!! Snootchie Bootches!!

...DIDN'T HAVE 99 PROBLEMS, BUT I DID HAVE ONE

...BITCHES GON' COME AND BITCHES GON' GO...*

*the language is essential part of the story!

As much as I talk about this show I need to have a badge or something to show my appreciation for the programming. I do contribute to WUOM, even while I was in NOVA, so you would figure I'd have SOMETHING up showing how cool I think NPR is, wouldn't you? That is definitely one thing that I am grateful to the internet for, the ability to listen on-line to MY NPR station!

Since I don't believe that anyone reading has the seven minutes or so to listen to Jeff tell his story about his first big time break up with a girlfriend in college (a passage into adulthood, he calls it) and his sister's real and undeniable support of him. Describing the situation, lying on the bed listening to The Smith's, tears in his eyes, his little sister drops that piece of invaluable knowledge. If you didn't do anything else today, listen to the first two minutes of this story to grasp the contrasting themes between them that melts when it comes to their familial bond.

I think that is what makes me bitch (yeah, I SAID it!! That IS what I have been doing lately!!) about the twins and Jan. I don't see how they could manage to contort a reason explaining why they backed my ex-wife OVER me during my crap marriage and subsquent divorce. Now, the reason that this resonates is that Jeff did get the opportunity do 'repay' his younger sister's intentions later and that is a funny story. But as Jeff relates the situation, there is one thing about my 'big brothership' that rarely happened, and definitely not to the extend that it did in other families.

Called Jan 'stinky teen' during her teen years and my brother 'Drooki-man' and 'mee-own, skee-own'. That was it and it was only in the house. I'd never set them up for failure in mixed company because it was already hard enough for us in the 48219, delivering papers to that little corner of the city. But in his story Jeff talks about a certain 'look' that his younger sister has on her face, one that he recognizes from being its source many times. That wasn't the kind of 'big brother' I was. I never got any value from aggravating my peeps. If anything I was always trying to figure out ways to include everyone. Jump rope contests, two-square tournaments, not to mention races up and down the block. I enjoyed my sibs because they were who I had to play with. If anything, if there was a most awkward thing about my teens, it wasn't my growing up but THEIRS. I missed playing and hanging around with them and their was too much to relay in a journal. Besides, I already hung that on the emergence of Jan and 'the spirit of Harry Mention' in our home so...

...another reason that I hate on Facebook is that the twins rarely email me but they will reach out to me on that site. When I leave, I may simply 'unfriend' them. But for the next two weeks at least, I will be accessible to them and their inane updates they share.

I glaze over them and the pictures of their latest activity. The twin in the Army is 'super short' and looking forward to Fort Lewis, Washington. Rainy but a great duty station. She should have an enjoyable time with her family there. Getting back to Facebook, the twin in Chicago sent me a message and wants for me to call her. Now I have seen some of her postings and I can figure out from what she says, the same way Jeff could tell by her sister's face, that something is going on.

Dealing with the swirl of emotion that comes up whenever I have to choose between being there for someone and doing what is best for me, has tripped me up more times than I care to count. After her visit to Detroit a few months ago, I made a decision then and there to solve for her as a variable in the equation of my life.

As long as I can afford to finance my own burial, I don't think I would want for communication from any of them. Listening to Jeff and hearing of their bond reinforced that for me. Were they not my family and simply made aquaintances, I don't think there would be any conflict regarding my choice. They have both told me what I needed to hear from them and that is that with that.

ONE WEEK WITHOUT YOU... I CAN'T FORGET...

THE WIZARD AND THE SPEED OF TIME

A week. I have only been here a week and it feels that months have passed, so much has occured. Really when I look at things, it isn't the number changes that is overwhelming but the size of them.

From feeling desultory and having the gnawing sensation of being escorted around the office and having to clean out my desk, to being on a forced march through uncertain territory to right now, there have been some heavy emotions clattering around in my head.

Maybe I should drink some of this stuff away... I don't drive and I can find a spot to sleep off whatever I drink. But I'd also be limited to the house as well. Walking down the street with my vertigo being accentuated by the alcohol is asking for trouble.

Let's get right into it, shall we? All of these incidents occurs on the back drop of my split with the SFC. We have still been talking and texting. I am still on her phone plan and it is a local call for us as well as rates for our texting.

I can't say that I didn't have experience with trying to turn a friendship into a personal relationship before this go in Virginia. The Fly Skimmie and I also gave it a go and it crashed and burned. Can't say that this one blew up on the launch pad as much as there were problems in orbit that caused the mission to be aborted. My feelings towards her have in some ways intensified. How is that possible?

A reason that I have come up with, is that this was a fail that I bear the burden of of shouldering most of the 'blame'. Though in saying that, 'blame' isn't fair to either of us as to why it didn't work. It is more that it wasn't ever meant to be and that is truly that with that.

What will be interesting to see, is what becomes of our friendship from here. I have lived an odd life, one without any real friendship, none that I will say that have the 'tangibility' that comes to mind when you think of in a friendship. There are people who I like and who I feel for the way that I do without concern if someone else has the same kind of feeling towards me.

This is not going to be a time where I can hide behind someone lack of reciprocation as shield for letting a friendship drift apart. My girl isn't cut like that. Unfortunately, I may be.

I want to go to Nebraska for the same reason someone in Nebraska may want to go to Los Angeles or New York or Chicago. That was part of why I didn't find my level in Virginia. Another contributing factor to my uncomfortableness is that I have prior experience that left memories that I couldn't wash away. Then there were other memories that were there, memories that I had to face every day that I wanted to leave well behind me. As it is, that's is NOT going to happen. But to have to be forced to face them with the kind of intensity as I would have had to, was something I did not want to ask myself to do. Easier to ask myself to get off the bus in Juarez and with a DEA badge in hand than to deal with my 'whatever' that I want to put out of mind.

Despite my remorse at the loss of our partnership, the idea of really becoming a long distance friend with her comes with another set of complications for me.

RFID TAGS AND SOURCE CODES

Guess who shot me an email the day I landed in Detroit... SD!! She replied from the last email I sent her... back New Year's of '09!! When I saw her address in my inbox, I almost deleted it straight away. She didn't find the resolve to respond to me wishing her a happy New Year... so why should I read what she had to say.

Needless to say, I did open it up and read it. It was a 'bait note', one of those things that women do to cause enough conflict to maybe draw a response. Unfortunately, I took it and when I get through all of this you will see what makes it 'unfortunate'.

But it is a bigger concept than can be covered in one entry. What I will say is that it is no exhaustive review to be made of the conclusion that I will reach. 'You reap what you sow' is how the story goes and that is that with that. At some point you will have to harvest your crops and if you have planted crap you can't expect to take prize winners to the State Fair.

SD did and I SPECIFICALLY WARNED HER about what she was doing and the potential pitfalls of her path. When it comes to her... I think this video does most of the talking for me. Because I already know how I feel about her and her situation.