Infrequent

As those of you who still read my blog might have noticed, I have not been updating frequently, and when I do, it is often with writing exercises and short character scene sketches, which have been rather fun to write. Unfortunately, after the last installment, I found out that my girlfriend was becoming attached to my characters and she didn't want anything bad to happen to them, which greatly limited my options. So I sort of let the characters sit. I also was not sure if many readers actually liked the writing or the style of it. They were unpolished.

However, all of that still does not explain why I have been so lax in updating. Part of it has been a lack of creativity on my part. I've just felt drained. I have been really busy at work the last couple of months and and when I get home at night, I haven't had the energy to pour into a new post. Plus, I have finally started going back to the gym on a somewhat regular basis. I am supposed to workout at least three times per week, with some physical therapy exercises thrown in and attend physical therapy once per week for about the next month. The shoulder recovery will probably not be 100%, but it should be better than it was. I also got my final cavity filled, but found out that I need to go in for surgery and get all my wisdom teeth out.

I have also had some family issues going on. I do not have a very big family. In fact, I barely have any family. Almost my entire family has abandoned me over my life, is it any wonder I have trouble forming healthy attachments. I think all of that has taken its toll on me emotionally, as has some crazy financial adviser lady in-town that decided to pursue a mission in getting me fired this past week. The excitement just never seems to end. However, things have been more or less good.

I still have the same girlfriend and I do not hate her. This is a huge thing for me because normally within three months, often three weeks, I am tired of the woman I am dating and want to breakup with her, but I like this one. We've even been testing the limits and living with each other for weeks at a time and so far, I haven't scared her away. I think she must be crazy.

I got a phone call from a former student this week. She needed advice regarding her legal career options. She just had her first child a couple of years ago and she's getting divorced. I barely knew she was even married and now she's going to be divorced. And I just found out last week that another woman I know has been married and divorced already. It was all so fast, like a shooting star. It's often stories like that that make me feel alright for not being in a rush to walk down the aisle and exchange tokens in front of friends and family; there simply is no need to rush the rest of one's life.

He Speaks

Rachel's heart raced as he walked through the door, an experience normally reserved for her nights at the gym. Although, she felt he could likely give her a much more satisfying workout. However, Richard wasn't having any of it. You had to hand it to the man, not a lot of men (wedding band or not) could resist a 21 year old woman's advances for three years straight and counting. She often wondered why he didn't just terminate her. He had never been anything but kind to her, however.

Richard seemed to have an extra spring in his step as he entered and greeted Rachel, an exercise he had repeated with meticulous regularity over the years, sharing a smile with her that he normally reserved for his daughter. He knew she had a crush on him and he knew it was completely inappropriate, but he chalked it up to Rachel needing a father figure in her life and her mistaking those feelings for him as love, or that's what that Dr. Phil-type psychologist had said to the girl who had called in one day. Richard assumed it was a condition she would eventually outgrow and just didn't see it as a problem of any real consequence. Despite all the examples he knew to the contrary, Richard could never see himself as carrying on an affair. He just wasn't wired that way.

Many of his friends had stories of their extramarital exploits - they would share them in whispers over pints at the local drinking establishments, and if nothing else, they were tremendously entertaining. However, he could just never do that to his family. He loved his wife. Granted, their love had been, at times, more clinical than passionate, but it was genuine, and his love for his children was beyond reproach. Yes, Samantha and David could be a bit of a handful, at times, but he loved them unconditionally. He loved seeing them smile more than seeing the sunrise, and he was so proud of their accomplishments. His car covered in those pretentious, "my child is on the honor roll," bumper stickers. He could not imagine ever bringing pain into their lives that way.

Their mother was not who anyone would have expected him to end up with. And if her sudden pregnancy in college hadn't occurred, they likely wouldn't have lasted the year, but that wasn't how they were raised. You had to make it work for the children. That's what they said. He swore there had been a sexual revolution somewhere along the way, but somehow his parents and wife had missed it, at least in this respect. There was a way things were done. So he buckled down - traded in his somewhat promising career as a musician for one as an attorney, "Every one's got to pay the mortgage," and set about making a life centered around his family. The odd thing was that Mary and his children were probably the best things that had ever happened in his life. His love for Mary had blossomed over the years and had added a vibrancy to his life that he very likely would have otherwise missed. Somehow, he had grown up to be the man he had always imagined, although, he wasn't quite clear when it had all happened.

This morning had been a tremendous release for them both. The last several weeks had been punctuated with stress regarding their children passing school and state exams, and helping them review and getting them to this practice or that lesson. It was as if a whirlwind of chaos existed in their home at all times over the past several weeks, and then, suddenly, there was calm, and there was a moment and he used it for all it was worth. He still remembered her nails digging into him and her legs wrapping around his body as she writhed in ecstasy....

Richard looked up from some documents as he heard someone enter his office and close the door. "Looks like someone got some this morning." It was John, Richard's friend from law school and another attorney at the firm. Apparently, the smile on his face had not gone unnoticed by the other members of his office. Fortunately, John was smart enough to say it behind closed doors.

A smile of satisfaction and ego appeared on Richard's face. "I took care of that."

"It's about fucking time, man. I was starting to worry about you."

Work Day

Regina continued to gaze over at Mary. Something was different about her. Regina's co-worker had been smiling more and there was a spring in her step. She reminded her of her eight year old daughter that seemed to be enjoying her summer vacation more than should ever be allowed. It was as though she had found a secret fountain of happiness somewhere. Regina snatched another Dove chocolate from her drawer, and savored the warmth of the confection as it slowly flowed down her throat. Maybe Mary had just found some really good chocolate.

Mary felt every one's eyes upon her, the center of attention for everyone, or so she had herself believing. She smiled over at Regina, who seemed to have a slightly quizzical look on her face. The two had worked side-by-side for over ten years, back before Regina even had children. She had gotten to watch Regina grow and become the woman that she was over the years. In many ways, Regina was like another daughter to Mary, and in her mind had ceased to advance in years past the age of seventeen. Sure, they talked about children and marriage, but more as one confides with a daughter. Regina's husband was a nice enough guy, but he never would have likely kept her attention if he hadn't knocked her up at the tender age of sixteen. Suddenly the man that was only ever good enough for a passing fancy was her one and only for the rest of her life, or that's how the storybooks read. Mary was too far advanced past fairy tales to really give them much more than a passing thought, but she could never bring herself to remove any such hope from someone she loved and cared for.

"Did you get a raise?"

Mary smiled back at the question. The grin simply could not be removed from her face and it seemed to continually grow with each passing second. "You know annual reviews aren't until December," she replied with a knowing coy glance.

Regina tossed this around in her brain momentarily and then her mind landed on something unexpected. "You're children are away at camp now, aren't they?"

"Mmmm hmmmm." She couldn't suppress the almost gigglish smile that was spreading across her face now, as her eyes danced. She struggled to keep her face down and focus on her filing, knowing that if she met Regina's gaze she would break into a fit of exuberance.

"So you and Joe had a good morning, then? It must be peaceful without the children around."

Finally, Mary looked up. "My morning was many things, but I wouldn't call it peaceful." The two exchanged a knowing glance and merriment danced across their faces. One vicariously exuberant with the happiness of her friend. This would definitely give them something to talk about and breakup the monotony of another day in their bleak office.

Early Monday Morning

She brushed the hair out of her face and slowed down just enough to smile. Sure it had made her late, but the moment she had shared with him earlier that morning still made her knees a little weak, and made the prospect of another day at this pointless governmental job easier to accept. It had been a while since they had stolen a moment like that - like teenage newlyweds again. Normally, the whirlwind of activity that filled their lives began at sunup and continued well after sundown, getting the kids packed up and getting them to school, picking up after them, refereeing their fights, helping them with homework. However, summer had arrived, and with it sleep away camp had provided some much needed time and relief.

No one had ever told her that her life would be like this. She loved her life and she adored her children, but she just thought it would be different. She had different hopes and dreams as an adolescent. At some point, she had let them go rushing past her face to embrace the life that she now had. Sometimes the loss hit her straight in the face and she spent a moment questioning her entire life and the direction of it. Dreaming of what her life would have been like if maybe things were just a little different. Maybe if she had not had children. Maybe if she had risked a little more. Maybe if she had pursued that opportunity. It was supposed to have turned out differently. But when he held her in his arms this morning, as they both struggled to catch their breath and she rested her head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat, she could not imagine her life to be any other way. In that moment it was clear that this was exactly where she was supposed to be. In that moment, all the little voices of question and doubt were silenced and all she could think of was how perfect this moment was.

She quickened her pace again to catch the door that was being held open for her, plunging herself into another day of mindless activity, but at least now she had something else more fun to let her mind explore, their upcoming evening together.

Memorial Day

My office does not recognize a lot of holidays. So I had assumed Memorial Day would pass unobserved, and then on Friday I learned that I would not be getting just two days off this weekend, but three. Three glorious days of doing absolutely nothing. Well, not doing work at least. I took full advantage - doing four loads of laundry, shopping with my best friend, cooking, reading, sleeping and using my body as a solar ray collector. Brilliant. I also had a couple of thoughts.

I do not think I saw any parades, memorials, or celebrations. Where I grew up, there were always parades and everyone would come out to see the festivities. However, since I moved to Florida, I do not really remember the last time I have seen a Memorial Day parade. It is not like I miss them or wish there were more of them or anything like that. I just started wondering if maybe the day has less meaning down here. We are supposed to have this day off to recognize the sacrifice the members of our armed services made for us. Instead, we go out and shop retail.

Gas is just too darn expensive. I do not know if anyone noticed, but it is over $3.00 per gallon. What the heck? I thought the war was over. I thought the refineries were back up and running. Why are gas prices still sky high? It should not cost me that much to fill my gas tank and if it is going to, there ought to be better public transit so that I can avoid having to use my car.

It positively amazes me when people update their blogs every day, or even every other day. I do not know how they do it, or where they find the time, and they always seem to have something to talk about. It is astounding to me. Oftentimes, I stare at the screen not sure what might come out if I were to type. I start thinking of writing about fiction and enchanted plants - not the type of plants that feed on human blood, mind you, but you get the general idea. Perhaps I could create a entire set of fictional characters to live inside my blog and they could have many misadventures for your delight and amusement. Then people could direct their angry emails to them instead of me.

I'm Back

Yes, yes, I know, hold your applause and spontaneous eruptions of joy and jubilation at my return. We all know how much you missed my absence, waking up each morning and immediately firing up the computer to see if I had posted something with all my vacation time, only to find the same silly post sitting there, announcing my absence, forcing you to find some other reason to carry on with your life. It was a hard life for you, I'm sure.

However, I needed to get out there. I needed to explore. I needed to go the the Salvador Dali Museum in St. Petersburg. I needed to sip cocktails with my friends and cavort on the open waters looking for alligators for my girlfriend. Because, gosh, what could be cooler than to find some sort of reptilian creature that could kill you while on vacation? What, I ask you. I needed to wander around the silly towns that I live near and explore the various architectural styles that were present in each, become quickly bored with doing so and leave it up to my girlfriend to snap pictures and revel in the experience. I needed to sit on a beach and allow my skin to come to terms with this crazy thing they call sunlight.

Why did I need to do all of this, you might ask. Because I was on vacation, silly. What else are you going to do on vacation other than relax? Besides, if I hadn't been relaxing as hard as I had, I wouldn't have suddenly been so struck with the concept of pornography as to feel the need to write a post about it. No, I wasn't watching it. I was recalling one of the first times I ever watched a video and just being completely blown away by the idea that really attractive women would totally take their clothes off and have sex with some random guy for money. That still blows me away, no pun intended. Isn't that prostitution, by the way? I don't know. What do I look like, an attorney? Oh. Really? Well, never mind then.

I don't get it, though. Some women have said that it's empowering to take off your clothes and such. However, aren't men supposed to be the ones with all this "power" and you don't see us taking off our clothes to feel empowered. I guess some men must do it for that reason, but I doubt many of them would have the branding power of a Jenna Jameson or a Brianna Banks. I guess it just baffles me why women would do it. I would think attractive women willing to have sex for money could more easily find some really rich guy to have sex with and marry, rather than have sex with random guys they are cast with for millions of strangers to watch. I don't see how that becomes empowering. I don't see how I would view a woman that did that as empowered. I appreciate it. I think it's awful nice that someone would go ahead and do that, to satisfy all the men and/or women out there that want to see it, but the motivation for doing it completely eludes me.

My girlfriend and I watched some show one night, maybe it was on HBO, or maybe it originated on HBO and was edited for network television later, but it involved porn stars and following their lives. I remember one woman who was becoming rather famous for her career but who could not find a man to love her or want to be with her for anything other than sex. It frustrated her so much. I imagine it would be like dating a massage therapist and always wanting them to give you a massage - as if that is the only reason you are with them. However, this is above and beyond that. I guess most guys only want one thing when they are hitting on a girl, but when they are hitting on a porn star.... I understand where she is coming from, but in a way, I feel like it's like walking around in pants and a bra and then complaining that guys keet checking out your breasts.

All I can think is that the psychology behind it must be rather complex.

Vacation

For those of you playing "Where in the World is J", I will be leaving tomorrow morning on vacation to random areas of Florida. Only one destination is firmly planned and the rest are all dependent on weather and fire conditions. I couldn't care less, as long as I am relaxing and not having to come to work. Somehow this last week has been more stressful than most in recent memory and I simply cannot wait to see my girlfriend and hang out with a couple of my best friends and relax.

Every morning, I am now greeted by the lovely scent of the fireplace that is the state of Florida, while a thick smoky haze covers the risen sun. As you can see here, Florida has no shortage of heat, and the next time we get any decent amount of rain, it is likely going to be such a shock to the soil that it won't know what to do with itself. Forget worrying about hurricanes, we're going to need to hope that at least five of them to hit this year, just to bring us back from this insane drought we are experiencing. Unfortunately, the winds of the approaching storms will whip the flames about and likely spread any fires already blazing before they hit land.

One may ask, "Why did you decide to vacation in this fiery, dehydrated, smoke infused wasteland?" to which I answer, No one expects the Spanish Inquisition. Besides where else could I have the chance of getting really exciting photos of flames and terror? California, you say? But that's a long plane ride. Besides, as a last resort, I can just point my car south and end up in Key West in a matter of a few short hours.

I hope you all have a great weekend.

Timing Issues

I got the timing belt in my car changed this weekend. For those of you not familiar with such things as automobiles, a timing belt (more or less) controls the opening and closing of the engine valves, making it a rather important little hunk of rubber (unless your timing belt is actually a chain) to be spinning around in your car. Every 80,000 to 100,000 miles, you are supposed to change it (and often the water pump because of the pump's location). Otherwise, the belt might break, and if the timing belt breaks, you're screwed. If you try to restart a car with a broken timing belt, you're way more screwed. Unfortunately, the timing belt in most vehicles is incredibly difficult to get at and so the labor can be rather expensive. It's a good thing that the car manufacturers are nice enough to provide clear and precise instruction as to when to change it. It is unfortunate that more things like this are not written down for people.

For example, waiting for over a month, until just before you're about to have sex for the first time, is probably not the best time to tell your boyfriend that you have herpes. Gosh, wasn't that such an exciting experience for him. Then nagging him for months later about him wearing a condom when you have sex because well, he "probably has it anyway", also probably not the best approach. "I don't understand why it's such a big deal. Sooner or later you're going to catch it anyway. After all, we're getting married." We are? When did that happen? I only looked at the engagement rings, I didn't buy you one, and while I am busy making my decision, as much as I love you, I would rather not contract a disease that I will have to live with for the rest of my life. Is that ok with you?

"I wish you wouldn't say that, it makes me feel bad for having it. It's not my fault that I have it." I never said it was your fault, I was merely explaining to you that it is an incredibly difficult item for me to deal with at the moment, a fact that you do not seem to understand. All you seem capable of thinking about is how you feel about everything. You wanted to move in and get engaged after we had been dating six months. You were on a path to marrying me, you saw our future so clear, and you were so ready. Now that it turns out that I wasn't following along that path with you, as much as you professed that you thought I was right in taking our time, you are not happy because it is not on your time table.

Some people spin at different speeds and, unfortunately, there's no timing belt in place to keep everything firing at the correct pace. Gears and valves can get mangled in the process, as we hope against hope that the engine won't explode, because that would be one hell of a repair job. I have a friend still getting flowers, emails and text messages from an ex who is fully convinced that they will reconcile and be together again, even after she told him she'd call the police if he didn't leave her alone. Everyone has their own perception as to the status and direction of a relationship. Hopefully, the people involved have a similar enough image as to where things are going so that everything keeps spinning together.

* To be clear this post does not relate to my current girlfriend. I would have labeled it past tense, but I really did just get my timing belt changed.

Sidewalks

The thing that I think I noticed the most about Chicago while I was there this time, other than how amazingly warm it was compared to the last time I was there (it was in the 80s, people) was the city layout and its amazing sidewalks. I do not think there are many places that I can think of in South Florida that have sidewalks as big as they have there. It is so pedestrian friendly, and encourages people to walk and explore the city, without too much fear of being knocked into oncoming traffic. I love that. It makes me want to live in Chicago, and if it was not for the bitter, bitter cold and the wind that rips right through you and strips anyvestige of warmth your body may have otherwise been able to hide away, ignoring any articles of clothing you might have thought would insulate you from its cold icy grasp, I would be planning on moving there before the year was out. On the bright side, planes seem to enjoy flying to the Windy City like addicts returning to their dealers, so I should have no problem returning there in the future for their gorgeous sidewalks and, if I plan correctly, I may be able to avoid its cold icy grasp.

While I was there this time, I went to The Field Museum, took a water taxi to The Navy Pier, sampled a cheezeburger at The Billy Goat Tavern, and another, an hour later, at The Weber Grill Restaurant. (I do not think I have consumed that much red meat in at least a year and my body is still trying to figure out what to make of the experience.) I also got to taste the glorious cinnamon buns at Ann Sather's, enjoy many fine libations at Charlie's Ale House, and stroll over to The John Hancock Building, and that was just on Saturday. There really is just so much to see and do in that city. So much so that even after you run out of all the typical tourist things that one might do, there are enough additional activities to keep you occupied for at least a few years, I imagine. (I've posted pictures of some of my experiences on my Flickr page, which I have added a link to in my sidebar, in case any of you are interested.)

I really had a tremendous time while I was there. Unfortunately, my flight got back so late (which in many ways was incredibly fortunate, as I was running extremely late and would have most likely missed my plane entirely if it had not been completely delayed in its arrival to - and hence, its departure from - Midway), and I am still trying to recover. However, I have to think that a little fatigue is a fine price to pay for seeing an enchanting woman and a beautiful city.

Zany

You can go ahead and say it, I don't write enough. I know. Between work, keeping up with everyone's blogs, and keeping up with my friends, I somehow run out of time somewhere around seven o'clock in the morning. At least I'm not like that Wil Wheaton character; that kid will write a blog entry just because he blinked. I guess that comes with being an author, you always have something to express and lots of time in which to express it, and given that the written word is his medium of expression, I end up with four or five blog posts from the kid in my rss reader every damn day. Somehow, the other authors I read do not seem to turn out nearly as much in the way of blog posts. Then again, they also do not rail against the establishment that made them famous and which continues to help put food on their table, promote their writing careers, and allow them to sit on their asses and write all day. But I digress.

Last weekend, I played miniature golf, visited the batting cages, and played video games. This is why one has a little brother - so that you can have fun doing completely overpriced things on the weekend. Actually, only the miniature golf was really overpriced. It was twenty dollars to hit a ball into 18 cups over a twenty minute time frame. I did, however, sink a trick-shot hole-in-one. My shoulder still is not quite working properly so I could not really play many video games or hit balls in the batting cages, but I was there to cheer him on as he did. He also got really lucky on one of those ticket machines and won two hundred fifty tickets with one token. And we had a hard fought air hockey battle that lasted about ten minutes as each of us tried to get seven goals first. It was a blood bath, but in the end, I emerged victorious. Yes, beating an eleven year old at air hockey is blog worthy, what of it?

I am leaving for Chicago tomorrow. Yes, again. No, I haven't lost my mind. Yes, I know it is still cold there and that I live in a tropical paradise that has eighty degree weather every day. Look, I never said I was very smart. Remember, I am the one that went to Italy in October, with a random woman I barely knew? However, I was able to do that entire trip, hotel and air fare included, for under $1,500.00. So at least I am frugal with my insane journeys. Besides, it is Chicago, people. I get to eat at the Weber Grill restaurant, partake of drinks in the John Hancock Building, and see the beautiful woman I get to call my girlfriend (definitely a good position to have and the benefits are hard to beat).

So, while I may not write nearly enough, I do still have zany adventures.

Bang

It seems to be everywhere I look - everyone seems to be discussing gun control laws and how we can keep this from happening again. What happened at Virginia Tech was a tragedy. There's quite simply no denying how horrible the events that recently occurred there were. They were, to say the very least, disturbing to our nation. It makes sense that people would now be discussing it and appalled by it. Every media outlet seems to be able to use the tragedy for something. Some are exploring the lives of those that were lost, interviewing their families. Others, are intensely arguing for and against gun control laws. Others are questioning whether the school officials failed to take adequate measures to prevent or minimize this tragedy.

In short, everyone seems to be grasping for answers and trying to make sense of the actions of someone that obviously was not thinking in sensible terms. People want to make sure that something like this never happens again. They want to insulate themselves from those people out there that may seek to do them harm. "There must be a way," they opine. I wonder if it makes things better or worse if they are able to solve this problem over a cup of coffee on a Wednesday morning.

I wonder what the lost children would have wanted us to take from this experience. I wonder if they would have wanted us more insulated or more exposed. Maybe they would have wanted someone to reach out to the kid that killed all of them before he went on his tirade. Maybe they would have wanted him arrested and locked away, given that several people did try to be friendly with the shooter before he became "the shooter". Maybe there really is no easy answer that will be derived over the cup of coffee this morning. Maybe the underlying problems run too deep and the questions of which liberties do we sacrifice and how we cope with other people.

I wrote a paper in law school about approaches to criminal justice. It was not really an area of law that I ever seriously considered practicing but it was something I found interesting. There was this new old approach to handling criminal offenders that was being applied in other countries (and certain areas of the United States) with surprisingly positive results, if you subscribe to the theory that criminal sanctions are meant to punish and rehabilitate. It was an approach called restorative justice. Unlike other punitive measures, this process was more holistic - involving the victim, the victim's family, the local community, everyone, in the entire punishment process. Not only did this approach have the statistical effect of rehabilitating the offenders (incidences of recidivism dropped dramatically), but the victims and the victims' families felt better with the process. Everyone actually seemed to feel more healed from it. Unfortunately, the approach did not comport with what Americans seemed to traditionally believe would solve crime, tougher sanctions, longer prison terms, and more laws. As such, these approaches were often never pitched by a politician running for election. I wonder what those students would have thought of my paper.

Please note that these are just my random musings and thoughts. It is not meant to be a political commentary or something to spark debate, even though I know it might.

Maybe "Sucks" Is The Wrong Word

Evidently, I did not completely ruin my life and I am not the spawn of Satan that I truly thought I was. Apparently, one can make mistakes without being reduced to that icky gunk that you find in the tray under your refrigerator, and when it comes to relationships - it is often better to make such mistakes before becoming exclusive with the other person. So at least I still have moderately good timing.

I saw my surgeon last week, who informed me that I am at least a month or two ahead of schedule as far as recovery goes, which I thought was excellent news. I can now begin unrestricted physical therapy. Despite the name, there are still all sorts of restrictions. For example, I cannot go skydiving, jump out of a moving vehicles, or go to the gym and lift weights. I suppose the last one goes without saying after the first two, but this one impacts my life far more than the first two, ever since I gave up my career as the sexy stunt double to Oprah Winfrey. I know, I know, it sounds like a cushy job, but it is not easy having to bob and weave through all the disgruntled fans that happened to not get in the audience that received the free car that day, and those cattle ranchers could get downright mean. In any event, I decided it just was not a role I could fulfill anymore.

Taking full advantage of my new found physical freedom, I took my little brother bowling this weekend. We both were able to refrain from falling over and sliding down the lane head first, which was good news for everyone there because I guarantee I would have bowled a perfect game that way, and I don't like to make everyone else feel bad with my obvious athletic prowess like that. It's like I told the coach of the team that day, "If I play for you, I am just going to embarrass all your other players and their performance will suffer." I chose yesterday to impart this sensitive and caring wisdom to my little bother. I think he understood. Then we pointed and stared at all the people that were different from us.

Love Sucks

I know the few of you that still read my blog may be asking yourselves, "Where's J? What's he doing?" The simple answer to such questions would be, "fucking up my life with the speed normally reserved for bullet trains and shooting stars."

As some of you know, I met an amazing woman through this thing we call blog. She is beautiful, smart, funny, sweet, caring and everything I could want in a woman, plus she likes me too. I know you're all rejoicing and carrying on at this point, reveling in my new found bliss. Well, slow down a little here, folks. The drawback is that she lives about 2,000 miles away from me and I've only actually seen her twice. Granted, we have spoken on the phone for hours and hours on end. My voice has kept her company for six hour car rides, and comforted her in her sorrow, and I know her better than possibly anyone, but I have no idea what that makes us. Are we lovers? Are we friends? Are we dating? It all starts getting confusing and murky when I start throwing the hard questions out there.

Enter, stage left, Girl Number 2. She is cute, actually lives near me and, quite obviously, likes me. Maybe I should not be in a relationship with a woman that lives so far from me. Licensed professionals have repeatedly told me that long distance relationships are not real relationships. That they only truly become real when the two people are near each other and that closeness cannot be fostered by some phone calls. They would get tired of me avoiding real relationships by getting into long distance ones. I feared that maybe what I was doing was wrong. The promises from my long distance lover that she would move here and be near me in six months did nothing to assuage my guilt. Why would she be moving here now suddenly except for me? I could not handle that responsibility. What if things did not work out? What if she moved here and we broke up and she was alone in some state that she only moved to for me.

My friends were split on this other woman dillema, some saying: "Well, you've only met the girl twice. Granted, you've been talking for a little while, but that is not really enough. I think you should explore Girl Number 2. It is better that you know now than later." I did not know if I could do that. I would feel terrible. I would feel like I was violating a trust. I have never done anything like that. Then again, I normally date in my own zip code now and would normally not be in a full blown relationship so quickly - I would have explored this Girl Number 2 early on, figured it out and decided without all this doubt and angst. But wait, am I even in a relationship? God, this is so fucking confusing. What the hell am I doing? Other friends told me, "Well, you should probably not do anything with Girl Number 2 because you love the other one, but if you do fool around with Girl Number 2, just don't tell the other one." There's some advice, don't do it, but if you do do it, lie about it. I felt like a slimy politician was giving me the advice.

So being the stupid idiot that I am, I thought, "I will just talk to this other girl. I will tell her that I am already involved and that this just isn't going to work - that we can be friends, but nothing more. This will resolve things." (I have to see this girl every day, so resolution was important to me.) As we hugged goodbye, she kissed me and I kissed her back and I knew, right then and there, that I was in love with someone other than the woman I had just touched lips with. It was just about then that my entire universe collapsed in upon itself. I could not forgive myself for what I had done. I had had good motives. I had wanted to be sure. I had wanted to know for certain that I did not like this Girl Number 2. The last thing I would want is for more months to pass or for my lover to move down here, only for me to then realize that I don't love her or that I have feelings for someone else. This would have never happened if we had actually dated like I normally date now. Dammit. Why couldn't this just be easy? Why the hell did she have to live so far away? Why the heck did I have to meet this Girl Number 2 when things were still weird and new between my lover and I, instead of when things were established and settled.

All I ever wanted was a safe and stable relationship. Why the fuck did this have to be so hard? Why couldn't I have ...? It didn't matter anymore. It was done. Now I knew who I wanted. Now all doubt was cast aside, and now I couldn't even begin to forgive myself for what I had done. Even though, most of my friends agreed that I had not really done anything terribly wrong. Most of them still felt it was better that I did it now and know for certain than to constantly wonder about some random girl, and most of them still saw it as something that is normal in the beginning of a relationship. "You would normally be dating other people now still, making sure that this is the person you want to be with. Why the hell are you beating yourself up for this?" Of course, I also had a friend say, "I would breakup with you. I don't believe in dating multiple people ever." Then again, she doesn't believe in long distance relationships either so I don't suppose she would ever be in my position.

I confessed my wrongs to my lover. I couldn't bear to lie to her. I felt like a fraud or a charlatan, letting her believe that I was so wonderful when I had done this thing. She was stunned, but understood. She forgave me, with the understanding that it would never happen again. And yet, I cannot bring myself to forgive. I know that if the situation had been reversed, I would easily forgive her. I have even been in her situation, and quite easily forgave the woman I was with, knowing that long distance is weird and hard and wanting the woman I am with to be secure and confident in her decision that I am who she wants to be with. And then the questions start swirling in my head again, what the hell are we? Should I be in a relationship with her? Should we just be friends, let her carve out her life as she wants it, with or without me and then, if things work out and she decides she really wants to live in Florida, we look into dating then? Do I stay with her, accept her forgiveness, somehow find a way to forgive myself and move on, happier than ever because I now have resolution and closure on the only lingering doubt I had remaining?

I have no answer. The only answer I have is that I love this woman and I cannot imagine my days and nights without her, and I cannot imagine how I am going to forgive myself.

The Noise

The noise of their love-making escalated behind her. She couldn't bear to look any longer. She felt her entire body rebelling against what she had just seen. "Why in the hell did I agree to this? What was I thinking?" she admonished herself.

In the beginning, it had seemed like such a great idea to "liven" things up. But now all she could do was beat herself up and listen to the demise of her relationship as her lover and her girlfriend cried with pleasure behind her. Each fervent moan of passion twisting and distorting the thing of beauty that had once seemed so large, stretching out like a vast ocean into the distance, always with hope and promise on the horizon. These things were now replaced with pain and horror as her lover continued to do unspeakable things to the woman that only hours ago had been her best friend. She couldn't bring herself to turn and look back at the scrapyard of lives laying there like twisted metal.

They had had their troubles in the past, of course. She assumed every relationship had certain bumps along the way. But nothing could compare to what she now felt. It was so unexpected. The pain and jealousy that had gripped her had been so sudden and intense. It took all her power to stifle the sensation of her stomach convulsing, and to remain standing as her knees no longer desired to work. Before that moment, everything had been serene. She had felt impossible pleasures, and been touched in ways that she had never before experienced. She had allowed her friend to explore her and they became more intimate than she had ever imagined, all while her lover did the most unimaginable things to her own body, making her writhe in ecstasy. Even remembering it, made her lips quiver with pleasure, but it was only momentary as the moans of the couple behind her knocked her back into reality. She struggled to catch her breath and swallowed the bitter taste of bile in her mouth.

Just as she was glowing from her own euphoria, her lover had gripped that bitch -- that fucking whore -- and had torn into her like she was the best thing he had ever felt in his life. Their passionate moans and kisses had been deafening and each one of their thrusts had stabbed into her heart. As his hands traced her form, from her jawline, around her neck, down her chest and along the side of her body, she felt the burning sting, like he was using razor blades to cut into her flesh. Every kiss of his lips against that slut's flesh was like a brand being placed upon her, burning into her soft, tender skin that only moments ago had felt the most ineffable love for this man who now seemed to have forgotten she was even there. Her eyes burned and she tried violently to claw them from her face and erase the painful memories that were now forever etched in her brain.

Silently, she willed herself to turn around, to let the pain wash over her and sink herself deep into this utter sludge pit into which she had stepped, as she heard his words from the week before echo in her head: "Maybe we should invite Candy over and have a threesome." He claimed that he just wasn't feeling as passionate for her anymore -- that maybe they needed to bring the "spice" back to their relationship. Reluctantly, she had agreed, wanting more than anything to reclaim the vision of the glorious future they had once shared. No price was too high for the future she was so sure was there for them both. She shared drinks with Candy and the conversation took place. In retrospect, causing all of this destruction was far easier than she had ever expected. A couple of drinks and a few words between friends and the demise of her two most valued relationships was sealed.

Fighting back the tears that threatened to gush forth from her eyes at any moment, she picked up the remnants of her clothes and self-respect that lay scattered about the room, as the lovers carried on, seeming oblivious to both her presence and her pain. Her entire life was flashing through her head as she skulked through the room, asking herself how the hell she had gotten here. She had been such a good, sweet, innocent girl growing up. Already, she felt a filth and disgust on herself that no shower could wash off, and every breath she drew in brought their stink in with it. Just as she was about to open the door to leave she heard, "Babe, where are you going?" She turned to see his dick still inside her as the whore involuntarily kept moving against him, paused in mid-thrust. She walked out the door.

The Empty Bar Stool

He stumbled across the room and sat down next to me. I had hoped that I had exuded that certain aura that screamed, "Unless you're a hot coed, stay the hell away from me," but unfortunately, my internal transmission tower must have been down or maybe there was interference, it's not quite clear. All that was clear was that the bastard was sitting next to me and now I lived with the silent terror that he might want to talk to me.

I considered moving across the room, or maybe just down the bar, but the remaining cast of characters looked equally unsavory and I doubted I would find a better spot. Besides, he might be a nice guy. Perhaps his unkempt exterior and beleaguered looking appearance masked the heart of poet and mind of a scientist. Perhaps his lecherous leers at all the women were just a front and he softly worried to himself and wanted nothing more than to find that right woman and settle down.

"Hey, baby, get me a beer." The words slurred out of his mouth, having trouble making their way around his teeth. Clearly, this guy was all heart. "Fucking broads. They never let up. Always complaining and complaining. Like I don't have enough of my own problems. Now I have to listen to theirs? And, of course, I'm always to blame. Like it's my fault for every damn thing that goes wrong in her day. They're ridiculous aren't they?" Startled, I suddenly realized he was attempting to make conversation with me.

"Yeah. Crazy, huh?"

Apparently, his only his mind and not his mouth had reached its limit, "Like it's my fucking fault that her car got stolen and the rent is late. I'm out there bustin' my ass every damn day and all she can do is complain and demand the money. She doesn't even put out any more." The words stumbled their way off his tongue. The fact that someone had ever slept with this man in the past was a testament to the either the power of alcohol or the desperation of women. "I just don't get women, you know?"

"Oh, I know. I know."

I maintained a hidden hope that the conversation could end abruptly and I could escape, but I could see it was useless - I was now his brother-in-arms and we were about to take on the entire female race for their crimes against mankind. I was sure we were about to embark on an entire discussion regarding the emasculation of men by these evil creatures. I needed to get the hell out of there before he decided we were going to be best friends for life. Fortunately, just when I thought it would never end, the Vogons came through and killed him.

Update

Some of you may have noticed that I have been a little lax in updating - not that I was ever terribly good at posting more than a few times per week, but there have certainly been fewer posts coming out of me since my surgery. To all those people that noticed, I'd like to say two things: First, thank you; and, second, it's not my fault.

Surgery certainly did not help my ability to type blog posts on a regular basis, but neither did my laptop crashing, and having to wait for a new one to arrive. Yes, that's right kids - I'm running Vista and it really is just about as annoying as you've heard. (I have to approve practically everything my computer does now, and a lot of things seem to be incompatible with it - including the Internet security suite that shipped with the system. Brilliant. I spent a lot of time trying to remove Vista and replace it with XP but my computer doesn't play as nicely with XP and it seems to with Vista so it looks like I'll need to take some time and learn to love it.) Then I went on a trip to Chicago, and spent this past weekend with the lovely and talented Violet. (You can see photos from my excursion on Flickr.)

My weekend in Chicago was amazing. Not only was the company fantastic and special but the city itself is amazing. If it hadn't been so fucking cold, I would have simply stayed there and found a new job for me to utilize my legally trained mind. However, it was very cold. Most of my time was spent either indoors or walking outside, yearning for the next place that I would be able to feel the warmth of artificial heat, as the sun surely was not going offer me any relief. I got to see a great exhibit at The Art Institute of Chicago, sample delicious pizza at Giordano's and take in the downtown city sites - not to mention a fantastic brunch, and that was just the first day. The people there are really friendly and nice, the food is phenomenal, and the public transit system is quite impressive. Just a fantastic city to be in and I was sad to leave, but that likely more had to do with the company.

My laptop and I are still learning to get along. It finally got me to surrender last night and reinstall Vista. I do have to say that the system resumes from sleep much more efficiently in Vista than any other Windows OS I have used in the past, and I am going to try and run Open Office as my default Office program, as I see no reason to pay for a Microsoft office suite when I can get a perfectly good one for free, as can anyone else I want to share documents with. It has the inter-portability functionality of Adobe pdf, without the pdf. I may, however, lose my electronic journal, as the journal I was told would be compatible with Vista before I downloaded it, doesn't appear to be compatible with Vista now that I've downloaded it - go figure. I'll have to wait and hope that they release a patch, but until then, something else will have to be found.

My arm is still recovering. It's still really difficult to move in many ways, but it has certainly improved when compared to a month ago. Occasionally, I catch myself accidentally reaching for the car door with my left arm and it doesn't cause me nearly as much pain anymore. I have been doing stretching exercises for it - my arm, not the car door. These are, generally, some of the same physical therapy exercises I did before ever having surgery but now they really hurt when I do them, whereas before they only caused mild discomfort.

So far, my year seems to be off to an eventful and exciting start. I cannot wait to see what it looks like by the end of this year.

Let It Snow

I grew up walking a quarter of a mile to my bus stop, past the lake, in 80 below wind-chill factors in sneakers and jeans. Sure there was the winter coat that I would zip up and dig my face into, but a hat was rarely an accessory any of us wore. If I can swim in the lake while there is still ice on it, why the hell would I need a hat?

When I moved to Florida, I found it sweltering and oppressive. Then again, I also didn't have air conditioning and it was the middle of summer. I used to sit and pray for it to get cooler. It never worked. I'd be sitting there hoping that the heat would forget I was there, so that I could move without risking the production of additional sweat. Sooner or later the sun would set and it would only be 80 and maybe then I could sleep. Oh, sleep. Wouldn't that be nice. Why would anyone live here? Where had my mother dragged me to?

Then I started college. There is something to be said for living in a part of the country that allows for women to walk around scantily clad all year long. There was also something to be said for never having to worry about wearing boots, tracking in snow, slipping on ice, walking around the lake in the middle of the night, in the dead of winter, without anything more than a light jacket. And air conditioning helped immensely.

I remember going to visit one of my friends at the University of Massachusetts over a winter break and having to concern ourselves with whether the car would make it to the top of the icy steep hill. First of all, what the hell is ice, and second of all, what's a hill? It was quite the adventure, but I feel that if I'm going to take my life into my own hands, I should be doing it while jumping out of a plane, not driving around a university campus.

"But don't you miss the seasons?"

When I went to get my third advanced degree, I moved to northern Florida. They actually had days there when it wouldn't get above 40. Can you imagine? Not only that, but the humidity would drop to something less than fifty percent. Insanity, I tell you. I had to get a humidifier in an attempt to stop my then persistent nose bleeds and had to use moisturizers on my hands every day so that they wouldn't crack and bleed. This was in addition to the thick ski jacket I had to buy. How the hell is someone supposed to live in 30 and 40 degree weather? I couldn't wait for December to be over, so we could get back to warmth.

"Florida has made you weak."

I know I could live in the cold. I grew up in the cold. We used to get so much snow, the National Guard was called in every year to plow us out. We'd be trapped in our houses, waiting for the Guardsmen to arrive and rescue us from out own private prisons. I know all about boots and electric blankets, thermal underwear and Thinsulate gloves, hats, and scarves. I'm sure that if I took the time, I could recondition my body and be jumping into partially frozen lakes in no time. I could get used to starting my car in the morning to make it warm enough for my drive twenty minutes later, and shoveling the driveway. But why the hell would I want to? Especially when I can live in a lush tropical location where I look out my window and see palm trees and where I never, ever have to worry about lacing up my boots or donning my winter coat.

A Chance to Do Good

Alright, folks. Here's the post wherein I give you the opportunity to help women in shelters across our country and to do so at no cost to yourself - it's free dammit, so do it.

Women's shelters in the U.S. go through thousands of tampons and pads monthly, and while agencies generally assist with everyday necessities such as toilet paper, diapers, and clothing, this most basic need is often overlooked - feminine hygiene products.

Seventh Generation, a green paper products and cleaning products company, has a do-good attitude and will donate a box of sanitary products to a women's shelter in your chosen state - just for clicking the link. Talk about easy! Just click here.

Thanks for helping out. Please pass this on to others.

[Thanks, Question Girl]

No Television

When I was transitioning from college to law school and living off campus for the first time, I was robbed. They stole my CD player (and whatever CDs were in it at the time) and my television with the cable box. The robbers neglected to ever look in my roommate's room that contained at least $50,000.00 worth of musical engineering equipment. The loss of the television was particularly poignant, as I had just gotten the cable installed the day before. (Yes, I know that it might have been the cable guy that robbed me.) However, I think I felt the loss of the stereo much more severely, as it was the only item I replaced that year.

It was odd, the amount I accomplished when I had no job to speak of, no classes, and no television. I started reading books all the time. It was as though I had one growing out of my arm wherever I went. Anywhere I walked, my book was sure to be in hand. I'd show up an hour early, waiting for a movie to start and just sit there reading. One day, I missed two showing of a movie I wanted to see because I was too busy sitting in Barnes and Noble reading this book I had just bought. "You're still there?" "This book is so good."

People would start talking about TV shows and I'd have no idea what they were talking about. "Alyssa Milano is a witch?" "What the hell is a Pokemon?" My life consisted of reading books and watching movies. I had high hopes of perhaps finding a job, but not a lot of places were looking for a person with a degree in history and the places one might think of a a good temporary career didn't want to hire someone with a BA. "Why would you want to work here?" They really made such an excellent point. Why would I want to work there? I actually didn't. And then, just when it was starting to look like I could become an assistant manager for a local drug store, I got hired as an intern for a very, very large company - in their information technology department.

The time I spent without a television was perhaps the most productive time of my life, if one measures productivity by getting out of the house and reading massive quantities of pages. However, law school helped to change all of this. By the end of the day, I could barely convince myself to read a menu, let alone another book. I spent no less than 8 hours (often 12) doing nothing but reading and editing all day long, and when I wasn't editing, I was teaching other people how to edit or the finer points of tort law. Television became an escape - a place where I could escape the pages that would haunt my sleep. (One really hasn't lived until they go through semesters with bronchitis and a sinus infection, hopped up on too many medications and too little sleep, having night terrors involving the Commercial Code or the Internal Revenue Code. Fuck the DaVinci Code. That thing has got nothing on the archaic workings of the generation skipping transfer tax system enacted under Title 26 of the United States Code.) Yeah, you English majors got to read Yeats, Emerson, and Shakespeare. I had foreign policy and history authors no one had ever heard of and now I had Congress and the Treasury Department. Something tells me one of us was having more fun.

Television is now no longer a luxury. It's one of the only places I can so easily escape from all the pages of words that surround me day after day. "How do we transfer our home without losing our save our homes cap?" Yeah, go ahead quote me some Whitman, but when someone wants to make sure their newly born daughter will actually be protected if anything ever happens to them, I know who they're going to call, and I better be able to tell them something better than "Give me your hands, if we be friends, and Robin shall restore amends."

Bits and Pieces

I just got put on antibiotics again last night. I think this is the third infection I have had since my surgery. Oh yeah, I know how to have a good time. The medication - the five pills I was prescribed - was $60; my insurance saved me about $13. Way to go insurance. I swear there's got to be a better insurance package out there, and I think I should be on it.

I got to see Harry Connick, Jr. last week. It was really cool. I did miss seeing (but not hearing) the first half of the show, though. They oversold several rows and lots of people had tickets to the same seats. So I left my friend to enjoy the show and went to join the angry mob. Anyone that says angry mobs don't accomplish anything clearly has never been to a concert in which their seats were oversold. We were able to get a complete refund for our tickets and still see the show, but we also missed half the show negotiating the settlement and getting it all processed and then had to stand for the whole thing, which was unfortunate for my friend because she had not worn her comfy shoes. Even more unfortunate, in my opinion, was the refund money went to my friend's ex, as he had bought the tickets. On the bright side, while I was with the angry mob, I happened to see my surgeon (not an angry mob member). He started fixing my sling and asking how I was doing, offering to phone in a prescription for more pain medication the next day (those are only $10 - yay ). As he was doing this, the woman on my right chimed in with more helpful advice. She turned out to be a physical therapist and the younger woman next to her was also a doctor. It was cool because I was able to get lots of free medical advice. Plus, the second half of the show was fantastic. There was far more improvisation and it was just great. Unfortunately, the crowd was weak - apparently, they only really get passionate about seats, not about music - and he only came out for one encore. However, it was still really good.

I took a page of my own advice and started reading some archived material of a blogger I know. It had actually occurred to me to do this several months ago, but I never had time. You might be surprised, though, at how much one can accomplish when they're miserable and sick for a weekend. The process was immensely informative and not a little bit frustrating. I suppose that could be the danger in exploring the past - you poke around enough, you're liable to encounter some unsettling things.

In two weeks, I'll be in Chicago. Freezing. "Today it was warm; it was in the 40's." "You quite clearly have lost your entire sense as to what in fact constitutes warm, as that would leave me shivering in a ski jacket, gloves, and hat." "I was in a tank top." "You are simply sick and misguided. Someone needs to teach you that there are places with sunlight and warmth that actually involve being more that ten degrees above freezing." It shouldn't surprise me, this is the same woman that went to Chipotle and then went to meet her friend for dinner. "Wait could you repeat that?" She did. I laughed. "What's so funny?" "Let me get this straight, you went to Chipotle, got a burrito, and then left there to go meet your friend for dinner?" "Well I had the bowl, not the burrito." "This is great. It's so going in my blog." "I don't see what's so funny," she said after suffering a fit of laughter.

This weekend is likely to involve more bed rest, more blog reading, and maybe, just maybe, I'll make some actual progress in this book I have been attempting to finish for weeks. It's good to have goals.