Thursday, January 28, 2021

Long Overdue

 Ah yes, this is my first update in a long time.  Too long.  There have been a few improvements but I will get into that later.  This is just me, remembering that I need to use this journal more.  If only to help order my thoughts.  

Tuesday, October 15, 2019


  There are ghosts folks.  I am not talking about Aunt Edna's cranky spirit hanging around your kitchen and knocking spatulas off the counter when you make a mistake trying to replicate her tuna casserole recipe.  That kind of ghost, I do not believe in.  I am talking about angels (fallen and righteous), the Holy Ghost (which is the spirit of God Himself), and the ghosts that exist in your mind.

  This post is going to focus on the ghosts that exist in your mind.  *sigh* I am lonely.  I live by myself and this is a problem.  My mind wanders, and I become overfull.  Sometimes I go several days without talking to another human.  Today, I came to think about what I had.  So many things have happened that I want to tell my close friend Cort about.  We used to talk every single day.  There were no secrets between us.  He passed away back in 2012 due to medical malpractice.  His death was very sudden and completely unexpected.  I was there with his wife when he went.  One of the worst days of my life, and it haunts me. 

  Sure, I have other friends, my sensei and another friend I have known since 1st grade, but they are busy and do not have a lot of time to spare.  I also have a navy friend that lives 1,250 miles away.  She is also busy with three kids.  She is the one that I described a few posts ago as being made in a different mold than me, but using the same clay.  Point is that these three people are trustworthy but busy. 

  Sometimes I am overwhelmed with loneliness.  I think of all that I want to tell Cort, and how much his conversation meant to me.  That is a ghost that haunts me.  It exists only in my mind, it never turns lights on and off, it does not spell out spooky messages in the coffee grounds that sometimes spill onto the counter when I am getting ready to brew a pot of Caffeine and Hate (a Black Rifle Coffee Company blend that has a serious amount of caffeine).  It is this ghost of Cort that would make it impossible for me to move back into the village where I grew up, even if moving there would make things easier between me and my ex-wife, as it relates to getting more time with my daughter.  The beloved munchkin that I would move the heavens and earth for, that is simply something that I cannot see myself doing. 

  I cannot speak to this ghost, because it is my own mind, not some non-corporal manifestation of my dead "brother."  It would not reply to my conversation, give comfort, or provide an outlet for thoughts to pour through. 

  I am not just bringing this up because I am looking for a romantic partner, but for any form of companionship and camaraderie.  I posted the meme below on facebook, and one of my friends misinterpreted my intent as purely a romantic gesture.  Again, I just want someone to talk to on a regular basis.  Someone that I can relate to, and joke with. 

  I know this post is a jumbled mess of me ranting and whining.  Thank you for taking the time to read this, and please feel free to comment.

Thursday, September 12, 2019

Ferrari 458 Italia

  Jeremy Clarkson called it one of the all time greats, better than the F40.  Pretty, clever, lightweight, with a rear end planted on the ground.  The base model, when driven by The Stig was 0.1 second slower than the F60 Enzo, around the Top Gear track.  I am fairly sure Clarkson even bought one. 

  On Sunday, 08 September, 2019, I was able to cross off the #1 item on my bucket list.  Years ago I gave up on #1, figured it was just not realistic, so I even became comfortable with this false belief.  I was in 2nd grade or so when my father gave me a bright red Ferrari Testarossa radio controlled car, and he told me that at the time it was the fastest (production) car on earth.  This planted the seed, the imagination of a young boy is very fertile ground.  A couple years later I saw Ferris Bueller's Day off, with the (replica) 1961 Ferrari 250 GT California (SWB), and I was in love.  I have been a Ferrari fan boy ever since.  Reading every article on the newest stallion to come out of Scuderia Ferrari, committing to memory every detail, every stat, every curve.  The Pininfarina styling, posters covering my bedroom walls.  Gentle reader, I have touched the hood badge on an F50 and thought that would be as close to the god of cars, I would ever really get. 

  Before I drone on about every excruciating detail of the experience, I want to try to put into words the life lesson that is here.  I grew up pretty poor, but I had big dreams.  Life taught me that dreams come hard, when you dream big.  I had a list of things I wanted to do in my life.  Go to a tropical rain forest, visit Hawaii, spend time out at sea, become a black belt, have my own dojo, these were all items I was able to cross off the list.  Pending items are: meet Weird Al Yankovic, get my pilot's license, become SCUBA certified, swim with dolphins, and the top of the list since I first began to dream was to drive a Ferrari.  I truly believe that if cars were sentient and had a deity, their god (with a lower case "g") would be Ferrari.  The lesson I learned, and I was able to tell my father this is that, I have seen rock bottom lows, but I have also accomplished the most difficult items of my bucket list as well.  I have only 4 items left, then I have to come up with new dreams! Even in the darkest night, your dreams are still alive.  They may seem impossibly far away, but they still exist.  You could be surprised at when the opportunity to seize that dream, presents itself.  I am living proof that dreams can be realized even when you are on the ragged edge.

  Now, the experience.  I spent some time watching how other people drove the autocross course, some of the things the instructors did, and mistakes that the drivers made.  There was also a McLaren MP4-12C and an Audi R8 V10 there.  Anyway, I was giddy, on the verge of squealing like a school girl, I was the first person at the gate that morning.  So, it was my turn.  I freeze for a beat or two, I was about to actually race a brand new Ferrari 458 Italia, I needed a second to process that fact.  So, I walk up, slowly, savoring every second, it was somewhat overcast and the light and shadows of the clouds played across the shiny black paint, paint that upon very close inspection, had very fine metal flake in it.  Very subtle, elegant, exactly the kind of thing I would notice, something I should have expected.  Anyway, there is a photographer there to take a few pictures before my laps.  I kneel in front of the magnificent steed, posing with the car behind me and to the right.  Then I stand up, admiring the feminine aspects of the car's sculpted curves, the photographer asks me to stand by the door.  I rest my right hand on the door's windowsill, and lean in a relaxed and casual manner, as if this work of art belonged to me.  The photographer asks me to get in, and be pose for the last picture.  I try to get in, and upon being unable to wedge myself inside, I remember that the previous driver was at least six inches shorter than me.  I adjust the seat, and slide into the supple, black leather racing seat.  I pull my feet inside, to the rich black carpet, and turn to look at the camera.  My heart is racing, I start to tingle all over, I close the door and put on my seat belt.  Now I look ahead, the yellow tachometer with the famous prancing horse was prominently displayed in the front and center part of the dashboard, the small steering wheel, with it's Formula 1 inspired buttons, dials and knobs was in my hands.  My fingers danced lightly across it's soft leather wrapping and the instructor began to talk.  He asked me if I had done anything like this before.  I told him that for over 15 years I had a 1997 Talon TSi AWD that I raced.  He gave me the look of knowing, as he had a 1991 Eclipse GSX.  Then he instructs me on how to start the car, foot on the brake, and press that beckoning, candy red button with ENGINE START emblazoned on it.  The 4.5 liter Ferrari V8 snarled to life.  It sounded more welcoming from inside the cabin, than it did while watching.  Perhaps this was the car's way of saying that only the people inside mattered, and everyone else beware.  I pull the right flappy paddle toward me, and a satisfying mechanical clunk told me that the car was now ready to chew pavement.  I goose the throttle once or twice just to hear the seductive melody of the engine, and the instructor asks me to not rev the car like that.  Fair enough.  I pull up to the starting spot, the full carbon ceramic brakes squeaking softly, and the instructor gives me a few quick notes on the course.  He will count the laps, and also call out the sharp corners... heh, like I needed that.  I wave to my parents and my amazing daughter one last time, before I take my communion with the god of cars.  I place both hands on the wheel, look straight ahead and roll quickly onto the loud pedal. 

  The first few seconds were exquisite euphoria, bordering on disbelief.  The savage engine snarled in anger as 560 horsepower were unleashed on the first straight... a straight that was ending quickly, like now... I lost myself for a heartbeat as I lifted off of the throttle early and pushed down on the brakes.  Those carbon ceramic brakes, oversized, cross drilled, carbon ceramic brakes, that are capable of stopping the car RIGHT FLIPPING NOW!  So, I scrubbed off too much speed and went pokey joe around the first bend, mildly disappointed in my performance, as the car was nowhere near it's limits, I decided to try to find the area of 8/10ths, or 9/10ths.  The red mist descended, I began to feel what this horse was telling me about the track, and it begged to GO! The chicane was next, I rolled onto the gas and the car began to pull it's way through the curves, quick dab of brakes before the next sweeper, and then plant the throttle firmly against the floorboard.  She roars with satisfaction and only the upcoming sharp turn to the right made me lift off the throttle at the last possible second before I jab the brakes to transfer weight to the front tires, they bite into the tarmac as they turn in.  I roll onto the throttle at the apex only to scrub speed for the chicane again. The red mist had me fully in it's spell. I asked for more grip in the turns, and the 458 complied, the Michelin Pro Pilot Sport tires grabbing onto the tarmac as if compelled by some black magic.  The remaining laps were a seminar on speed, and divine Italian race engineering.  The acceleration pinning me to the seat one second only for the brakes to pull me out of the seat the next.  Sure you can make any car quick, with enough money, but if you start off with a car designed to be fast as it's first and foremost goal, the results simply cannot be replicated. 

  Last lap over, I left the track, and pulled the Ferrari up to the place where I would have to park her, and leave her.  My mind scrambled to memorize every sensation, the feel of the steering wheel, it's shift light LEDs at the 12 o'clock, the fantastic dashboard, the... the buttons and knobs, the feel of the seat bolsters... I was now parked.  Foot on the brakes and pull back on both flappy paddles and the car was in park.  I turned the key off, and took a deep breath.  Sigh, the sigh of a man who has climbed his Mount Everest, a man who has touched something spiritual.  It was time to leave the gorgeous black car... but craving more I snuck a few more pictures of my own.  I would not be denied these last seconds. 

  Walking back to the staging area, where the table with hats and t-shirts, to claim my plaque, I noticed that everything was tingling, even my teeth.  My daughter ran up to me, announcing proudly that she had recorded my laps, I scooped her up and spun her around and around.  I am glad she was there to witness me with greatness, to see that dreams can come true.  I gathered my photo plaque, and went to where my parents were waiting, hugs all around.  I relayed that the instructor complimented me on finding the sweet spot for braking in that first big turn, and tried to steady my breathing.  I saw the joy in my father's eyes, and I let him know that though I have been through truly dark times recently, I can still count myself fortunate for crossing off most of my bucket list while I am still so young.  The lows have served to highlight the highs. 

  True believers, if there is something to learn here is that I have lived my years.  Sure, there is a lot I still want to accomplish, much more to learn, more than I could learn in a thousand lifetimes, but that is part of the splendor that is life.  Chase down those dreams, seize those opportunities, press forward.  I imagine that I will have to come up with a whole new bucket list in the next 2 or 3 years.  The remaining ones are reasonably easy by comparison.   

Wednesday, September 4, 2019

Change of Plan

  So, some kid on social media got upset when I made a jab at Ted Turner owned CNN.  He made it into a huge issue, and tried to pick a fight, and even read this humble little blog looking for ammunition to use.  Well, we know that it did not work out very well for this guy.  I did not take the bait.  "Mistah" bully was not going to get his way.

  See folks, the purpose of this blog is to write out a train of thought in hopes of organizing a plan of action.  If my thought process or ruminations help someone else in their journey through this life, then all the better.  I publish this blog, as I am not ashamed of my thought process, and I know it is raw and unrefined. 

  Dude obviously does not get military dark humor, and interpreted things through a cake eating, no load, paper pushing, ticket punching civilian.   In other words, I may need to tone down the dark humor as to not offend the delicate sensibilities of the civilian community.  Whatever.

  Nah, I do not think so.  I like my coffee full of Caffeine and Hate. (An actual blend sold by Black Rifle Coffee Company)  I know how to embrace the suck, and I do not back down from a real challenge.  To clarify, a real challenge is not an internet argument about CNN, that is just entertainment.

  Anyway, I know I was planning on waxing romantic with the  first post after "Too Long" but that was OBE (Overrun By Events, for your civilian types).  I felt the need to write this as a result of "Mistah" lurking and digging around.  Seriously though, I do suspect his nickname "Mistah" has slaveowner slang overtones.  Typical of a left wing radical.

Sunday, August 25, 2019

Too long

  True believers, it has been too long since I have rambled on this little blog of mine.  Many things have happened.  I went out to Colorado Springs again, this time I was traveling by myself.  It was a little less stressful traveling this way, but no doubt I missed my munchkin. 

  It was fortuitous that I went when I did, as my dearest friend needed some help out there.  I am not saying that she did not have support network, as I am sure she would have managed just fine if I had not been there, nevertheless I was a welcomed helper at that time.  Things lined up so that we could catch up, watch some Cobra Kai (Youtube Premium, or torrent it... if you are a Gen Xer, trust me.  It is worth it) and Captain Marvel.  The side effect of this is that I am not permitted to watch Cobra Kai season 2, until I get back out there again.

  Now for the real.  Spending time with her... My God.  I am happy.  Happy down in my soul.  These last few years have been dark for me oh True Believers.  The darkest days of my life.  To provide context, I went from a family man, Sunday School teacher, rock star of my corporate department on the fast track to making the kind of money I had only ever dreamed of, and head sensei of my own martial arts dojo... to a homeless, jobless, cancer patient, whose "friends" deserted as soon as I was unable to do things for them.  The solitude is the killer.  It tore away my confidence, it tried my faith, it awoke inner demons that were once conquered, and nearly brought an end to my story.  I had abandoned hope, and forgotten joy.  Friends, I am a man who does not do well in isolation. 

  So, two trips to see my 3 Godsons in a single summer.  Two trips to spend time with a person that was formed by God, with the same clay that I was.  We talked about things we had never talked about before, and discovered that we are even more alike than we had realized.  Between her and I, it has become a bit of a joke.  We do something, or say something and look at each other and just say "clay." 

  Nobody ever comments on this blog anymore (though I wish you would) but before anyone thinks to say it, no.  She is happily married and it is just not going to happen.  So... stop thinking it folks. Yes, when we are near each other, we seem to charge each other's batteries, and I am not sure how else to describe it.  Imagine a TV with the color adjustment turned down pretty low, that is how things are when we are apart (at least for me).  Now turn the color up fairly high, and the brightness a little bit as well.  That is how things feel when we are near each other. 

  I thank God for my time in the Navy, good and bad, as it all worked together to bring her and I three doors away from each other in the barracks.  The madness and absurdity that I endured to get to that command, and the frustrations of that duty station, I would go through ten times again, in order to meet her.  I used to describe her as the Holy Grail of women... she had this effect on guys around her, where they would fall into a consuming madness trying to date her.  I called it "Consumption."  I seem to be immune, or at least largely resistant. 

  That brings us to now, gentle reader.  Now I am trying to hold on to this newly rediscovered hope, this rekindled happiness, and harness it to get myself out of this damned rut.  I live by myself, in a tiny apartment situated in a low income housing building.  I am on disability.  I need to get out of here, and find something I can do to get off the government's teat.  I am considering writing as a possible avenue.  As long as I can keep a hold of this hope, this joy, I have a muse that could be harnessed to write.  I am also looking into getting a pilot's license, something I have always wanted to do.  Either of these have the potential to get me out of this 600 odd square foot prison that is my apartment. 

  As to writing, this blog is a raw stream of my thoughts, unrefined and largely unedited.  It is not a prime example of what I would submit to a publisher by any means. 

  Next thought is dating.  While I doubt there is a woman within 50 miles that would be what I am looking for, dreaming of, or needing, that does not mean that I will not look.  My friend from the Navy has agreed to be my wingman.  (She was the worst wingman ever while we were active duty. The. Worst.)  She will be given full administrator privileges to any and all online dating profiles that I make, so that she can edit my stuff, proofread it, and generally try to redeem herself as a wingman.  So, what am I looking for?  Gee... so many things.  Of course, this will just be a wishlist, very few things would be a dealbreaker.  Here we go.

  Someone fun, spontaneous, intelligent, and motivated.  A Christian who is at least semi-active in their church.  Non-smoker.  A woman with some willpower, a strong fiery woman who will help push me to be the best version of me possible, inspiring. Someone not hesitant to occasionally put a boot up my backside when I need it.  Active, not sedentary, a martial artist would be a big plus.  Someone who makes me laugh, even when I am in pain.  Someone who does not take themselves too seriously, and can laugh when things do not go according to plan.  Compassion is pretty important as well.  This next part is quite important, Honor.  A woman who understands and loves honor.  If politics is involved, more conservative constitutionalist than anything.  Someone who likes the outdoors.  Someone who is a little bit of a geek, or at least tolerant occasional geeky things.  Must love dogs. 

  Now for more aesthetic things, these are not as important as personality traits, but I once heard a minister say something to the effect that if you do not say what you like and what you are looking for, do not be surprised if you do not find it.  So, I will get into physical attributes. 

  Ugh, this is so hard to write in a way that does not sound shallow.  Folks, let me assure you that I am open to a fairly wide range of physical appearance, I am just not attracted to curvy, or full figures.  Sure, I could list some ideal and largely unrealistic things here, but they are not nearly as important as who she is inside.  Though I reckon this is supposed to be a wish list so I will force myself to put something here. (None of the following are must haves)  I favor shorter women, and I am a sucker for jet black hair.  Deep brown eyes will pull me in like a magnet.  Did I mention jet black hair?  Jet. Black. Hair.  It just grabs my attention super fast.  Let's see, I mentioned deep brown eyes... Tan or light brown skin would be a welcomed bonus as well.  I also look at hands, I can tell a lot about a person by their hands.  There is no ethnic background that I would rule out.  Ok, I have to remind myself while writing this, that this is just a wish list, and is not to be taken too seriously. Dimples, freckles, a few moles or beauty marks, even some scars, these things are all beautiful to me.  As a matter of fact, I would be suspicious of someone without a couple of scars.  A mischievous smile, heck, I even love a crooked smile.  Sure, a Ferrari is a dream, largely unattainable and unrealistic; however, a GTR, Lancer EVO, Alfa Romeo 4C, Jeep Wrangler, or a Viper is what I am looking for.  Yes, that was a metaphor.

  Ok, I said what I am looking for, so I suppose this is the part where I talk a bit more about what I would bring to a relationship.  I am a Christian and a martial artist.  Faith and Budo are paramount in my values.  I am a protector, compassionate and observant.  I am not a violent person, I have not been in a fight outside of the dojo, since Jr. High School.  I try not to be boastful or prideful.  I usually present a strong image to folks I do not know well, but I am pretty soft once I let you into my life.  I am a sappy romantic that likes to give gifts on random days, just because I can.  The person I am in a relationship with can expect clumsily written yet sincere poems, lovingly crafted meals, foot rubs, and other acts of service.  I like to help motivate and inspire, teach and learn and grow.  I will push myself to be my best self, in order to be a better partner.  I listen and and remember, not just the big things, but many details as well.  I try to anticipate my partner's needs, and be prepared for just about anything.  I will am open minded, and am willing to try new things. 

  Good grief, those last two paragraphs were difficult to write, and honestly I could probably put a great deal of polish to them both.  Ugh... it came out a jumbled mess and I know it.  Oh well, it is there now.  I expect my next post might be a love letter to this future person... I have been thinking about writing one of those for quite some time.  Whoever she is, she will deserve to know that I am already thinking about her.

  This is probably my longest post in many years.  I feel better now that I have written these things, gotten them out so to speak.  It helps to organize my thoughts, and is something of a therapy.  Anyway, please comment.  I would rather not beg, but I will if I do not get any comments in the next few posts.  Take care, and God bless.

Wednesday, June 26, 2019

Colorado and the days following

  True believers, I apologize for the delay in writing this post.  I have been a bit busy with appointments and stuff.

  Firstly, the trip to Colorado Springs with my daughter was an overall success.  It was fantastic seeing my godsons on father's day, and I was privileged to make a batch of chili for Kamala and her family.  We got to see some beautiful scenery in Garden of the Gods (though finding a place to park was next to impossible) and had a little time to check out Balancing Rock.  Otherwise, we spent a fair amount of time just chilling at Kamala's place, the pool, and such. 

  Being around Kamala, the energy that was there, revived a little spark that had been missing for a while.  The spark of actual hope, the belief that things can get better.  The last few years, I had been faking the motivation, the ghost of hope gone, just going through the motions in the off chance that something works and gives me a little momentum.  No, this was genuine glimpse of light at the end of the tunnel kind of stuff.  Before leaving, we were already talking about how soon I could manage to come back out. 

  Coming home was a little rough.  The empty apartment looming, a hollow waste of time and space.  A place where potential dies.  The first few days back were difficult, as a hangover of sorts settled in.  Those few days of bright happiness were now in the rear view, and the emptiness that replaced them hit hard.  I was in a genuine dark place, and it was making me angry because I remembered what the warmth of hope felt like. 

  Anger can be a gift. The Bible tells us to be angry and sin not.  Anger is not always bad or destructive, it can be a motivator that works for good.  In this case, that restless anger, that hunger to feel alive, pushed me out of the door to do something, anything.  Even if I wander around a park, looking for snakes, at least it is something other than the soul sucking apartment. 

  Additionally, I have been instructed to listen to music more, and log how it makes me feel, and what occurs as a result.  Oh boy.  So, I have turned off the news radio and made myself start listening to a wide variety of music that I have.  Ugh, it can be rough, I tell ya.  Dredging up memories of happier days, things lost to the sands of time, that I miss dearly.  Cort, I miss ya bro. We did not always see eye to eye, but there were no secrets between us.  I miss turning wrenches, shooting guns, and acting stupid, without a care in the world.  Other songs make me miss coming home to my family, a thing that was ripped away from me against my will, with no real explanation.  I lost a lot of people that I though I could rely on because of the divorce. 

  Music also makes me wishful, for romance.  This is a complicated puzzle for me right now.  My daughter is only 9, and she still talks about wanting to do things with me and her mother together, like she has not fully understood that we will not be getting back together.  I do not want to cause her any hurt or feelings of betrayal by having a girlfriend, and risk causing her to think I have in some way betrayed her mother.  (Truth is, I was the one betrayed, but my daughter need not know that either) My #1 priority is my daughter.  So, I figure that I can endure anything for the good of my daughter, even this oppressive loneliness, even if it is for a few more years. 

  So, now that I am back from Colorado, I need to get my tail in gear and see if I can go for my pilot's license.  If I can pass the physical, and maybe even find a way to get off of disability.  I am not sure if the nerve damage is going to prevent me from being able to do this, or if I will be able to make a living out of flying.  It is worth looking into, at any rate.  Physical, then see if the V.A. will pay for it. 

  Snakes.  I have bee on a snake catching kick lately.  A baby corn snake, a Butler's Garter snake... I cannot explain what set me off on this tangent.  This past Sunday afternoon, I went to watch a friend's granddaughter's softball game.  One of the ladies that was there mentioned that when she got back from smoking, there were these two red dots on her foot.  Oh boy.  I looked, and her story about stepping over a low retaining wall that was part of the smoking area, feeling something bite her and she did not look.  She just shook her foot and paid no attention.  I concluded some bad news, copperhead, and it was later confirmed by the hospital.  Now, copperhead bites are not generally serious as long as you get it looked at by a professional.  They rarely administer antivenin because it is usually unnecessary.  Usually it is antibiotics and monitoring for a day.  Well, this lady had some other concerns so antivenin was used.  I was telling people all day, leading up to this, that there were definitely a lot of snakes in the area, because I saw lots of signs of rodent activity.  I was thinking rat snakes, bull snakes, corn snakes and such, but now we know that there are definitely copperheads in that area.  I worry for the kids.  There is no way to get rid of the snakes, without getting rid of the mice and rats first.  So, it is a sanitation issue there.  Anyway, I need to get to the dojo.  Feel free to comment, you dirty rotten lurkers.  Feedback would be nice.

Wednesday, June 5, 2019

After Class

Went to class, mostly just helped the junior belts and ran the stopwatch for drills and kumite. My fellow black belts showed a lot of concern and I appreciated  that.  When class was over I stayed behind for some extra discussion and guidance with a few black belts, helping a young purple belt.  I really feel at home with the folks at the dojo.  There is no chest pounding ultra macho bravado, this school's atmosphere is one of care and instruction. 

Soon as I got into my car, a sadness descended upon me though.  A deep sadness, and it's onset was so sudden that I could not immediately figure out the cause.  I really just wanted to cry... so I thought instead.  It is likely that the sadness came as a result of leaving an environment that I love, with people that I get along with (even though we do not know each other very well yet) that have common goals and values, and was going back to my empty, lonely apartment.  I am always amped after class, even if I am tired or hurting.  To come to an empty apartment, with nobody to share my energy, no vessel to pour myself into... it is a punch to the gut.

Now, you lurkers will snicker when I admit this but whatever, fight me.  I switched the CD in my car to Ace of Base.  Go ahead... laugh.  Get it out of your system.  Anyway, I like the lyrics, there is a certain poetry that either lifts me up, or brings out an emotional response.  It served to make my loneliness even more intense, but also presented me with a recurring challenge to my current decision making paradigm.  I am a romantic.  I am that guy that makes most people roll their eyes, with how I like to lavish affection on a partner.  Right now, having no romantic partner is something I consider frequently. 

Carpe diem.  Time is ticking away, and it is time I will never get back.  It is true that I am fairly miserable most of the time.  Isolation and solitude have that effect on me.  I know that it would be good for me to get back out there and find someone that I can cultivate a long term relationship with.  After all, dating is about finding the person you want to spend the rest of your life with.  I do not have time for short term stuff.  Blech.  Anyway, it would be healthy for me to have a romantic interest.

My daughter is the most important person in my life.  All of my major decisions have to pass the munchkin test.  One question, pass or fail.  Will this decision have the potential to harm my daughter in any way?  Right now, the answer I keep coming back to is that if I started dating, it just might hurt my daughter.  She still wants the family back together.  I kinda do too, but I know that it simply is not going to happen.  I want my daughter to understand that her mother and I are permanently separated.  Eventually I want her to know that it was against my will, but that discussion will have to wait a few more years.

So, I worry that if I had a lady friend, it might hurt my munchkins feelings in some way.  Make her think that I somehow turned my back on her mother or something.  I have in the past, made jokes about having a crush on certain celebrities, and my daughter gave me a funny look and she asked uncomfortable questions about me and her mother.  I have not made any remarks about me dating since.

Ok your lurkers, I am looking for ideas, advice, or wit and wisdom.  The trend here is that nobody comments.  That is a trend I would be happy to see changed.  Should I look around on a dating app to help combat my loneliness, or should I suck it up for a little while longer? 

Long Overdue

 Ah yes, this is my first update in a long time.  Too long.  There have been a few improvements but I will get into that later.  This is jus...