My Best Friend

There's so much I want to say and I don't know where to start. Ever have that problem. It's like, I know what I want to say but I wish it would appear all at once on the screen. To type it word by word just seems an impossibility. But I'll give it a shot. What do you do when your best friend doesn't care about you anymore? Or at least, that's how you're being made to feel. Every argument ends the same way, we never get anywhere. Everyone else has moved on and yet I still care. I still fight. And why? Why do I do it? I feel so fucking unimportant at this point that I should be angry enough to turn my back and walk away. "Fine, live your life, I'm out." I should have ended it there. But I couldn't. And I can't. I don't want to care anymore. I don't want to care. Am I stupid for continuing to fight for something that I can't say for sure even exists anymore? How do I do this without explaining the entire situation. I don't suppose I can. And that's not really what I intended to do. I feel like Lauren has been a better friend to me from Belgium than Rich has from NYC. How is that possible? FUCK!

On a happier note, I've been hanging out with Jen a lot more often lately. Heh, I know that sounds weird being that we live together and are married. But the typical routine is Jen gets home hours earlier than me. She makes/has dinner, and is often in bed before I even get home from work. By the time I eat, shower, etc... she's done for the night. It kinda sucks to live together and be able to say "I haven't seen you in three days." But the past few days have been different. She's been up when I got home, or actually got home after me. We've had dinner together, made fun of near-retards on "Are you smarter Than A 5th Grader?" together... and last night... she watched hockey with me..?! I know! Awesome right? And not just ate on the same couch as me while I watched hockey. No, she watched it. Commented on it. It's been so awesome.

Maybe I should focus on that instead of what I don't have. Instead of who doesn't seem to want want me in their life, I suppose I should be with my friends who DO. That is, in essence, what I've been doing lately. I've hung out with Dan more in the past 3 months than I think I ever have since I've known him. And our significant others have become friends beyond our own friendship... which is what every guy secretly hopes for. We all want our chicks to get along. It makes things easier.

I find it amazing sometimes how my mind works. When I started writing this I was feeling really down. Lost, hurt, alone, depressed even. But in just a few short paragraphs, I feel good. Not just better. But good. I know that very few people read this, but those of you who tend to get worried sometimes with how I word things or how I end certain entries. This one has a good ending. I'd love tog et some comment though, if only to know you're there and you're reading it. Thanks.

My Confidence

I think every now and then we find ourselves with seemingly no one to turn to. I've been feeling really down lately. I've felt like I can't really talk to anyone. Lauren is busy thinking about the land of Waffles (Belgium) and I don't want to burden her. Rich is... well... who even knows where the hell he is? And Jen... well i haven't felt much like discussing my problems with her lately. So I'm left with a lot of doubt and negativity and no real outlet for it. And that's not good. I think anyone would realize that that's not good. Too much negativity and no outlet leads to one thing: MORE negativity. It snowballs. Before you know it you forget the initial problem and become a frustrated ball of rage with no patience for anyone. OR you're too depressed and feeling sorry for yourself to want to do anything to better the situation. I think I was feeling a little bit of both, fluctuating between anger, guilt, and random depression.

I'd like to offer some advice to anyone who's felt like they had no one to turn to. Swallow a little bit of pride, and confide in someone you may not have previously considered. If you find the well of best friends has run dry and you're feeling lost, give someone else a shot. You might find yourself in a much better place.

As I write this, my situation has not yet changed. The difference is that I feel the motivation to change it. There is shit in my life that I don't like. So I'm going to change it and if I am met with resistance, I just won't put up with it. I'm doing what I have to do. I believe in me. Do you?

I want to thank you for helping me. You know who you are. It's one person in particular. Ask yourself "Did i help motivate Nick on the evening of January 3rd, 2008?" If the answer is "No," then it ain't you. If it was "Yes," you helped me realize what was my fault and what wasn't, and you did it in a way that didn't frustrate me, upset me, or make me feel like a side was chosen. It was a 100% perfect way to handle the situation and I could not have asked for a better way. Should I fall into a hole again, you'll be a far earlier consideration to ask for rope than prior to today. I have my own issues, but I have been known to save a life here or there, so I'm going to add that should you need anyone for anything. Just ask. Ask like I asked you and know that I'm here AND in your debt. There won't be any hesitation.

I'll elaborate more on my master plan later. But for now, I just wanted to let all my non-readers know that an upswing could be happening tonight. Cross your fingers for me.

My Doubt

Well... there's no easy way to say this... so I'll just say it. I had some thoughts last night. Thoughts I haven't had in about 10 years. It wasn't just the thought, it was the nature of the thought. I wasn't thinking of doing it so much as I was thinking of a way to do it so that it wouldn't hurt. See, that's why I couldn't do it 10 years ago. I was just too damn scared. Last night for just a minute, I was thinking of a way that I could do it so that I wouldn't be afraid of. There isn't one that I know of and no, I am NOT taking suggestions.

That wasn't the only frightening thought I had last night. I had another one. I'm going to try to keep it vague in hopes that those paying attention will figure it out. Who am I kidding, no one reads this anyway. I am not happy. I'm tired of arguing. It's always an argument and I'm always wrong. I'm sick of it. It's so fucking frustrating when someone you care about is incapable of trusting you to know the simplest information. I'm always wrong, I don't know anything about anything, and if I want to try show that I know what I'm talking about I had better be prepared to fight for it. I can't win either way. If I back down to avoid the fight, I feel like shit because I know my opinion means absolutely nothing. I know that there is no respect for me. If i fight for it, there is still no giving in. There is spite and God help me there is more pettiness than I've ever known. And the end result is still the same. I am still wrong. There are two ways that it typically goes when I present information. 1: I am immediately dismissed as wrong and am more than welcome to fight for it. 2: I am dismissed as wrong at a later time. For example, I think that I got through, only to find that whatever I asked for was still done exactly the way I asked not for it to be done.

It's respect. That's all it is. And I don't get any. It's been discussed before but obviously nothing has changed and if anything, it's gotten worse lately. I'm not happy. I simply can't go through life like this for much longer. Who wants to be made to feel like they don't matter? No one! Whether it's something as simple as how NOT to load a dishwasher to something as huge and important as the baptism of our first child; I am wrong. My way is inferior. I don't know what I'm talking about. I'm sick of it. I'm sick to fucking death of it. And who do I talk to about it? I'm bored of talking about it! We either never get anywhere (because I'm wrong) or it feels like we got somewhere but it falls right back to where we were. I don't know what to do. But I won't lie, I'm scared. I'm horrified. I can't live like this for much longer. If anyone reading this has any suggestions, I'd love to hear them. I'm certainly not ready to give up, but I want to fix this before that option is considered. But I won't lie, I refuse to be made to feel like this forever. That is meant to be taken exactly the way you know it's meant to be taken. So if you have any thoughts, please... please help me.

My Solitude

I ran into an old friend this morning while I was getting my car fixed. One of the many that I've not seen since my 23rd birthday (4 years if you're keeping score) when they all walked out as they learned I was dating Jen. Another story for another time. I didn't even recognize him. "Super Modes," he said to me and shook my hand. "What's up, how you doin'?" I asked with some excitement. He shook my hand, and walked away. Nothing to say to me. I wasn't upset, just confused. I thought after 4 years, we'd have maybe moved on a little. And it's not like Jen was a one-time thing... I mean, I seem to have married her. That's not it.

Driving home, I was dwelling on it. A lot. I started to think about Jen. She doesn't seem very happy lately. I'm not sure why but I think it's my fault. I'm scared. She doesn't seem to like me as much as she used to. Is that marriage? Is it just that there's nothing really new anymore and I'm just part of the routine? Or am I right... does she really like me less than she used to? This also, is not it.

I feel so alone. The last time I felt this alone, I really did have no one. I carried a certain coin in my pocket at all times which reads: "Bring them back safe." The strange thing is this time, I have friends and family who really do care about me. But I feel as lonely now as I did 13 years ago when I really didn't have anyone. Why is that? What the hell is the matter with me?

I can't go to Jen, she's going to tell me I'm wrong. That there's nothing wrong and I shouldn't worry. but that's not going to help because I AM worrying. So that's not so much an option now, is it? Lauren? Nope, can't go to her either. She's so busy trying to fit in every one of her friends in the next week, I doubt she'd have time for me anyway. And I'm not about to impose on her. She'll be pretty pissed when she reads that.

For now, I'm not sure what to do. I don't want sympathy. I don't know what I want. I've been feeling this weirdness for a while now. It's a big part of why I started this blog in the first place. But seeing my old friend this morning, however insignificant or irrelevant it may seem, I think it added some much unneeded over thinking to an already over thought situation. And no one to go to about it. Which leaves... only me.

Now let's see... where did I leave that coin?

My Parable

Lookit, I'm not religious. I used to be. I was pretty devout actually. I saw the headline for this story, and it looked interesting. That's what a headline is supposed to do. Anyway, it was really pretty moving. The problem I've always had with my religion is it's inability to update itself. Reciting the same line over and over again is no way to worship anyone. Words lose meaning if you repeat them too many times. I always thought God must roll his eyes every time someone recites a prayer again. That's why I never recited prayers back then. I always did it my way. When I read this article it actually gave me some faith that people aren't afraid to celebrate their religion their own way. Anyway, read it. I hope you take something good away from it.

CHAGRIN FALLS, Ohio (Dec. 20) - The Rev. Hamilton Coe Throckmorton shivered with anticipation as he gazed at the loot - wads of $50 bills piled high beside boxes of crayons in a Sunday school classroom.

Cautiously, he locked the door. Then he started counting.

It was a balmy Friday evening in September. From several floors below faint melodies drifted up - the choir practicing for Sunday service.

Throckmorton was oblivious. For hours, perched awkwardly on child-sized wooden stools surrounded by biblical murals and children's drawings, the pastor and a handful of coconspirators concentrated on the count.

Forty-thousand dollars. Throckmorton smiled in satisfaction as he stashed the money in a safe.

That Sunday, the 52-year-old minister donned his creamy white robes, swept to the pulpit and delivered one of the most extraordinary sermons of his life.

First he read from the Gospel of Matthew.

"And unto one he gave five talents, to another two, and to another one; to every man according to his ability."

Then he explained the parable of the talents, which tells of the rich master who entrusts three servants with a sum of money - "talents" - and instructs them to go forth and do good. The master lavishes praise on the two servants who double their money. But he casts into the wilderness the one so afraid to take a risk that he buries his share.

Throckmorton spends up to 20 hours working on his weekly homily, and his clear diction, contemplative message and ringing voice command the church. Gazing down from the pulpit that Sunday, Throckmorton dropped his bombshell.

Like the master, he would entrust each adult with a sum of money - in this case, $50. Church members had seven weeks to find ways to double their money, the proceeds to go toward church missions.

"Live the parable of the talents!" Throckmorton exhorted, as assistants handed out hundreds of red envelops stuffed with crisp $50 bills and stunned church members did quick mental calculations, wondering where all the money had come from. There are about 1,700 in the congregation, though not everyone attends each week.

The cash, Throckmorton explained, was loaned by several anonymous donors.

In her regular pew at the back of the church, where she has listened to sermons for 40 years, 73-year-old Barbara Gates gasped. What kind of kooky nonsense is this, she thought.

"Sheer madness," sniffed retired accountant Wayne Albers, 85, to his wife, Marnie, who hushed him as he whispered loudly. "Why can't the church just collect money the old-fashioned way?"

In a center pew, Ann Nagy's eyes moistened as she considered her ailing, beloved father, his suffering, and the song she had written to comfort him near death. She nudged her husband Scott. "Give me your $50," she whispered. Nagy knew exactly what she would do.

Throckmorton wrapped up his two morning services by saying that children would get $10. And he assured the congregation that anyone who didn't feel comfortable could simply return the money. No consignment to outer darkness for those who didn't participate.

Throckmorton is warm and engaging and approachable, as comfortable talking about the Cleveland Indians baseball team as he is discussing scripture. At the Federated Church, he is known simply as Hamilton.

But as church members spilled into the late summer sunshine that morning to ponder their skills and their souls, there were many who thought: Hamilton is really pushing us this time.

"There was definitely this tension, this pressure to live up to something," said Hal Maskiell, a 62-year-old retired Navy pilot who spent days trying to figure out how to meet the challenge.

Maskiell's passion is flying a four-seater Cessna 172 Skyhawk over the Cuyahoga County hills. He decided to use his $50 to rent air time from Portage County airport and charge $30 for half-hour rides. Church members eagerly signed up. Maskiell was thrilled to get hours of flying time, and he raised $700.

His girlfriend, Kathy Marous, 55, was far less confident. What talents do I have, she thought dejectedly. She was tempted to give the money back.

And then Marous found an old family recipe for tomato soup, one she hadn't made in 19 years. She remembered how much she had enjoyed the chopping and the cooking and the canning and the smells. With Hal's encouragement Marous dug out her pots. She bought three pecks of tomatoes. Suddenly she was chopping and cooking and canning again. At $5 a jar, she made $180.

"I just never imagined people would pay money for the things I made," Marous exclaimed.

Others felt the same way. Barbara Gates raised $450 crafting pendants from beads and sea glass - pieces she had casually made for her grandchildren over the years. Kathie Biggin created fanciful little red-nosed Rudolph pins and sold them for $2.50. Twelve-year-old Amanda Horner pooled her money with friends, stocked up at JoAnn's fabric store, and made dozens of colorful fleece baby blankets, which were purchased by church members and then donated to a local hospital.

And 87-year-old Bob Burrows rediscovered old carpentry skills and began selling wooden bird-feeders.

But it wasn't the money; everyone said so. It was something else, something far less tangible but yet so very real. For seven weeks an almost magical sense of excitement and energy and camaraderie infused the elegant red-brick church on Bell Street, spilling over into homes and hearts as the parable of the talents came alive.

In her sun-filled studio on Strawberry Lane, Shirley Culbertson felt it - a joyful sense of purpose that she had rarely experienced since her husband passed two years ago. Culbertson, 81, is a gifted painter and watercolors fill her house. But she discovered another talent during this time - knitting whimsical eight-inch stuffed dolls with button noses and floppy hats. She raised $90.

Zooming down country roads clinging to the back of a leather-clad biker, Florence Cross felt it too. For the challenge, Barry Biggin had parked his 2006 Harley Davidson Road King outside the church, offering 12-mile rides for $30. Cross was the first to sign up. Never mind that she is in her mid-80s, had never been on a bike, or that her husband of 60 years had to hoist her up.

"Oh, it was such a thrill!" said Cross, her face glowing at the memory. Her friends now call her "Harley Girl."

Martine Scheuermann lived the parable in her Elm Street kitchen, transforming it into an "applesauce factory" for several weeks. The 49-year-old human resources director would rise at 6 a.m. on Sundays in order to have warm batches ready for sampling at church services.

In his origami-filled bedroom on Bradley Street, Paul Cantlay lived the parable too. Surrounded by sheets of colored construction paper, the 9-year-old crafted paper dragons and stars and sailboats. He set up an origami stand at the end of his street, charged 50 cents to $5 depending on the piece, and raised $68.

Talents began multiplying at such a rate that the church held a bazaar after services on two consecutive Sundays for people to display - and sell - their wares.

The pretty little village on the Chagrin River falls had never seen anything quite like it. Everyone seemed to be talking about the talent challenge: over the clatter of coffee cups at Dink's restaurant, at the Fireside bookshop on the green, sipping drinks at the Gamekeeper's Taverne. Even members of other churches weighed in: Have you heard what's happening at Federated?

"Anyone can open their wallet and give cash," Kris Tesar said. "This was just an extraordinary process of exploration and discovery and of challenging ourselves. It became bigger than any one of us or than any individual talent."

Tesar, a 58-year-old retired nurse, discovered her talent in buckets of flip-flops for sale at Old Navy. She stocked up on yarn and beads and made dozens of funky, fluffy decorative footwear that were a huge hit with teens. Tesar raised $550 for the church, is still taking orders and is thinking of starting a business. Now even her children call her the "flip-flop lady."

People also got to know the "hen lady" - Gabrielle Quintin, who took to raising chickens on a whim 23 years ago when she moved into a 180-year-old house with a barn. Her "ladies," as Quintin calls her backyard flock, provide a welcome distraction from her nursing job in a cancer center. Quintin decided to put her brood to work for the church. For $10 church members could "hire-a-hen" and get three dozen fresh eggs complete with a photograph of the "lady" who laid them.

"It wasn't exactly spiritual, but I had a lot of fun," said Quintin, whose husband, Mike, made glass birdfeeders. "And it was just this great way of bringing everyone together and connecting with the church."

Kathy Wellman quilted. Mary Hobbs knit shawls and penciled portraits. Cathy Hatfield auctioned a ride in her hot-air balloon. Norma and Trent Bobbitt pooled their money with another church member to hire a harpist from the Cleveland orchestra and host an elegant evening dinner party. Folks paid $50 each to attend and the Bobbitts made over $1,200.

And physician Peter Yang took over shifts from other doctors in his partnership (he used his $50 for gas to get to the hospital) and raised $3,000.

The deadline to return the money was Sunday, Oct. 28. Nervously, some church council members suggested posting plain clothes security guards at services that day. But Throckmorton would have none of it. He insisted that the spirit of the challenge, which had already inspired so much goodwill, would carry them safely through. And it did.

Organ music filled the church as people silently filed down the aisle, dropped their proceeds into baskets, and offered testimonials about what living the parable had meant to them. Throckmorton thanked everyone for their generosity. Then he started counting.

A week later he delivered the joyful news: They had more than doubled the amount distributed.

The initial take was $38,195 over the loan, but the amount is still growing. Some people didn't make the deadline, or extended it in order to finish their projects.

The final sum will be divided equally between three charities: One-third will go to a school library in South Africa where the church is involved in an AIDS mission; one-third will go to micro-loan organizations that provide seed money for small businesses in developing countries; one-third will help the Interfaith Hospitality Network in Cleveland, specifically programs for homeless women.

Throckmorton is asked all the time if the talent challenge will become an annual event, but he is doubtful. It was a special time and a special idea, he says, and he is not sure it could be re-created or relived.

Yet in a very real sense, it lives on. Church members who never knew each other have become friends. And orders for applesauce, flip-flops and Rudolph pins are still rolling in for Christmas.

There are other, more poignant reminders. Like Ann Nagy's haunting tribute to her father, who died of brain cancer on Oct. 11.

Nagy, 44, has always been a singer with a clear lovely voice. It wasn't until her father grew ill and moved into a hospice that she started writing songs. She found solace in the music and a way of communicating that was sometimes easier than spoken words.

At hospice, patients are taught five simple truths to tell their loved ones before they die: I'll miss you. I love you. I forgive you. I'm sorry. Goodbye.

Borrowing from that theme, Nagy wrote a farewell song for her Dad. She pooled her $50 talent money with her husband's share and cut a CD to sell to church members. Ironically it was finished just an hour before her father passed, on Oct. 11. Nagy stood by his bed and sang it for him anyway.

On Nov. 11 - her father's 72nd birthday - Throckmorton preached a sermon about dying. He invited Nagy to the altar. There, accompanied by a cellist and a pianist she sang "Before You Go."

Her voice soared. The congregation wept. The parable of the talents had never seemed so alive.

My Foresight

Ever know something bad is going to happen and there's nothing you can do about it? I don't mean like a hunch or a bad feeling... I mean like a scheduled period of badness. Like a dentist appointment. Or maybe your best friend will be studying abroad for an entire semester and you're sad now. She hasn't even left yet and you kind of feel like she already has. You try not to dwell on it and focus on something good but it doesn't work cause you're a hypocritical asshole that loves to focus on the negative while telling his friends to stay positive. She hasn't left yet but you're bummed as if she has and you're maybe a little bit worried about how you're going to handle it when she finally does. And instead of talking to her about it, you're writing a blog like the coward you are. Maybe the last thing you want to do is upset her by making her think she's inadvertently causing you pain. Oh yeah... that's why you haven't talked to her about it. Sorry I called you a coward then. So did you ever feel like that? No? Just me? Alright, well... good talk.

St. Lauren

I talk about Lauren a lot and people know that she's a friend of mine and that she's very very important to me. I figured I'd write about her a little bit. I know how I feel but I always like to put my feelings into words. It makes for enjoyable writing (not always reading, but no one is forcing you to read this, are they?). It also allows me to go back and read my own words later to see how I felt at the time and do I still feel the same way now? How I feel about Lauren has remained relatively unchanged since I met her.

Lauren was 13 when I met her. She had so much personality, I was instantly drawn to her. It didn't take long before I had a new friend. Even sooner than I had a new friend, I noticed something... something different. I didn't know what it was, but I damn sure wanted to know. There was something different about her. Something special. Today I know it's because we think so very much alike. And I don't mean that to be dramatic in saying we just have a lot in common. I mean it literally. The way we think about things, from point A to point B is often down the exact same road. This is something that I've always thought to be very special, but is also a blessing.

When I first met her, she was at a pretty rough spot in her life and things were only going to get worse. We weren't close enough that she was willing to come to me for help. In fact, she's not the type to ask for that kind of help anyway. So I didn't bother waiting for her to ask. When I noticed something was wrong I just started giving her advice she didn't ask for. Before i knew it we were talking nightly about her life. Mostly her being miserable and me telling all the reason why she shouldn't be. The details aren't important. I never really knew how low of a point she ever reached until she thanked me for saving her life. All I ever did was be there for her. She made it sound so heroic. I didn't jump in front of a moving car or anything, I just listened to her. Sometimes I guess that's all you need. That's why it's so mazing to me how alike we think. It's easy to always tell someone the right thing when you know how they feel and more importantly why they feel that way and how they arrived at that point. Especially if you'd have done it the exact same way and be the same emotional mess if you were in their situation.

Her first year of college we had a falling out. No fight or anything, she just... dropped off the map. For a year. I did my best to try to make as much contact as possible, but nothing ever came of it. I missed her. Holy shit, did I miss her. I even asked her to be in my wedding (on Jen's behalf). I didn't know how to react either. I never really did react. I didn't want to be wrong. If I got mad at her, she might think I was an asshole and get mad at me and create another layer on top of the initial issue. Not what I wanted. I didn't know if I should be hurt either. Because I didn't know what the reason was. Was she just overwhelmed by her first year of college? Was I not as important to her as I thought?

I gave up. It's something I'm not proud of and something I've never admitted until now. I actually gave up on her. I decided that if she wanted to talk to me, she would come to me and if not, then I would know for sure. I hate myself for that.

She sent me an e-mail w/ subj: I Suck, and proceeded to apologize profusely. There was no hesitation, I was so happy to have her back in my life again. She's a huge piece of a puzzle that isn't very big. She beat herself up over it and while I did appreciate her remorse, I was too happy to have her back than to think about the time without her. Since then we're even closer than ever. I feel like if I asked to be in the wedding now, she would say yes. Just bad timing I guess. I've had some opportunities to rely on her. (I don't like to bring my crazy around Jen. She has to live with me. I really don't want to scare her with the nonsense that goes on in my head.) So when I'm feeling down for seemingly no reason, or over thinking something, or just need a smile after Jen goes to bed (no smiles after 8:00, she goes to bed early), Lauren is there to hold me up. Without her I would just fall over sometimes. And that would wake Jen up... if you follow.

This whole thing doesn't even begin to summarize how deep our friendship goes. But it does shed some light on what kind of friendship we have and that's the most I'm willing to share. Maybe you believe in guardian angels, maybe you don't. Is it possible for two guardian angels to guard each other? Sometimes I feel like we're just standing back to back looking out for each other so we're covered on all sides. I saved her life and she saves mine a little bit every day, so we're square.

My Wife

Some people say marriage changes you. I suppose it can if you let it. Your situation certainly changes. You can't be selfish, you're not alone anymore. If you marry an asshole, it can be really hard to do just that. Cause if your spouse does nothing but annoy you, or they don't listen to you, or they treat you like crap etc. why would you want to be good to them? However... on the other hand... if you marry someone who is awesome, who loves you and makes no effort to hide that fact, who does seemingly everything for you often not asking for anything in return, who tells you look good when you know you look like a piece of garbage who hasn't shaved in a week, who puts up with your crap EVERY DAY, and who never lets you forget that you are loved and will always be loved... if you marry someone like that, you'd have married Jen. And then I'd be a little upset.

I met Jen in high school and I thought absolutely nothing of her because she was dating one of my friends. She also didn't have much to say to me. A few years later they were still together and after knowing each other for a few years, we actually did talk a few times. Most of the guys in the group didn't like her. I never had a reason not to like and refused to drink whatever kool-aid those guys drank. Eventually they broke up after 5 years. After a while we started talking online. She said I was one of the few that she actually liked (tolerated) from that group all those years because I was always nice to her and actually talked to her without making her feel like the 3rd (20th) wheel. She was getting on me to hang out and I was totally dodging her. Making up excuses why I couldn't and whatnot. I hadn't talked to her ex in just over 6 months and they had been broken up over a year. I figured it was cool, but I was still hesitant. Eventually I cracked. Our first (date) was a movie and the experience (not the movie) provided us with 2 inside jokes within the first 3 hours. As soon as that happened, I stopped treating it like a hang-out with an old friend, and started treating it like a date. Of course I had shown up 20 minutes early to get tickets in advance so she couldn't even attempt to pay... but I would have done that anyway.

"Heaven high," and the "8:00 Matrix," are the two inside jokes that are responsible for my life being the way it is now. Because it was right around "Heaven high," that I realized I was flirting and I wasn't doing it intentionally. I was just being myself and I wasn't trying very hard. I don't say this often (ever) but sometimes when I'm feeling down or having doubts, I think back to that first date. It always makes me smile. I'll never forget it. I still have same shirt I wore that night. Every time she sees me put it on she reminds me that "That's the shirt you wore..." Every story has a beginning and that's the beginning of the story that I'm currently a part of.

Marrying Jen was the easiest decision I've ever made and the best one as well. The first year is supposed to be the hardest. I don't know, maybe for everyone else. Jen has given me a life worth looking forward to. Actually, I can't wait to be married to her for the rest of my life. At our 50th wedding anniversary, I know that I'll be able to look back on 50 years, and the one thing my mind will go to is that very first night. The night she accidentally gave me everything.

No, I'm very sorry, The Correct Answer Is "Who Gives A Shit?"

I'm not the self-centered, egotistical type who makes a big deal out of his birthday. I hate my own guts, believe me. No one thinks I suck, more than I do. That being said, I tend to let my birthday come and go and whoever remembers gets a gold star. Whoever doesn't remember... well... I don't really care. I never remember anyone's birthday so I'd be a hypocrite if I got upset that someone forgot mine.

This year I thought since I didn't do anything for my birthday last year, or the year before, or the year before, that maybe this year I would actually have a gathering, go out, have some fun. Really, I was just using my birthday as an excuse to get a group of my friends together who wouldn't otherwise be in the same place together. I invited around 12-13 people including spouses/significant others. Of course you never expect everyone to be able to make it, but when 4 people show up, it can be a little upsetting. 1 of the 4 was my wife so lets not count that. 3 people. Lauren, Bill, and his girlfriend Kristy. I didn't let it get to me, I thought "Fuck it, we're still doing this and having fun, and I'll give everyone the business another time." And that's what we did.

It meant a lot to me that those who were there, were there. But i still felt like I was missing out on what I was really looking for. All my best friends hanging out together. So i called a Do-Over. I repeated the exact same plans exactly one week later. same time, same place, and i alerted all the same people. Good idea right? you have to cast the line more than once when you fish, so why not give it another shot. 2nd time around, 2 people showed up. Dan and Jenn. Even my wife was sick and had to back out. I'm not writing this to blame anyone. I'm upset that seemingly no one gave a shit to even attempt to come out. Believe me, it hurts when you actually plan something for your birthday and 2 people show up. It means the world to me that they did. They even altered previous plans so they could be there since they missed the first time.

But what about everyone else? Fuck, do I even have friends? There were some very important people who weren't there. Twice. I'm not writing this out of spite, so I'm not going to point fingers. I'm writing it because I really do feel let down. Twice. Someone lets you down, it sucks. Someone let's you down twice, it really sucks. Half of your friends let you down twice it starts to get old real fast. All I can do now is not think about what didn't happen and who wasn't there. When I think about those who were there, it does bring a smile to my face. I can't ignore that. I can't ignore that. Thanks to those who were there. You all know who you are. Without you, I'd have been standing there alone.

My Empty Head Full Of Junk and Other News

Ever just get sad for no reason? Of course you have. It's annoying really because while there are plenty of things in my life to be bummed about, there is currently way more good. Rational m e tells me that all the time. The mind-wandering, manic, irrational me loves to focus on everything that I don't like about my life. No balance. Writing helps. It forces me to put negative thoughts into words and sometimes I see just how ridiculous my mind can be sometimes. I don't tend to annoy my friends with my made-up problems. 2 reasons: first, if annoy them constantly with mountains comprised soley of mole-hills, then they might not want to help me when I have a legitimate problem. I'd also prefer to not have anyone think I'm batshit crazy. The 2nd reason (or is it technically the 3rd?) is that I'm maybe a little scared to open up to people I care about. I don't need everyone I know talking about me (unless they want to discuss exactly how much I rule).

It's funny... life, that is. I didn't have any legitimate gripes when I started writing this. Know though, that I've been slowly adding tho this over the course of the last 6 hours. A line or 2 at a time, since I'm at work. And while everything was fine 6 hours ago, I just found out that my Uncle died. I'm at work so I'm not really able to react how I want to. What I want to do is just sit and think about it a little bit till I get really sad and break down. But I'm at work. Can't do that. Lauren just sent me a text. Completely unrelated to any of this, but it's a funny coincidence that with Jen at work right now, Lauren is the one person I would have gone to for help and there she is texting me (which did in fact, make me smile) having no idea that I'm a slight mess at the moment. That's interesting.

I'll talk more about her later. Another entry perhaps. Right now, i don't know if I want to break something or just go home and play video games so I don't have to think about it. So much for my first entry. It went real smooth. I'll be back, preferably when I'm not at work and I can discuss this further.

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