When the Field's Wide Open . . . .

Does it make any fucking sense to starve a racehorse just because it hasn't been winning lately?

The Decline of Heroes

Speaking of role models, if you're gonna' have an athlete be your role model keep it to horses, dogs or bulls.

They don't open up their stupid gobs and say stupid shit.

TGIFF

What a crazy ass week. I'm so damn glad it's over.

I'm in a fucked up mood too. I'm tired, horny, lonely, a little pissy and not taking the shit I need to take seriously serious enough. It's the kind of mood that would have me lighting dumpsters and shit on fire just because I wanna' see that shit go up. So, I'm not in a bad mood, but as you can see in a fucked up mood.

But I'm getting on the road, driving the three plus hours over the hills to see my girls. For a day and a half I can forget about this shit, get my head straight and come back Monday (or Sunday night) ready to hit it hard. Well, harder than this. I'm just fucking tired.

And I need a positive role model.

And the Goal Is . . . . ?

I think what it all boils down to is whether or not you're a man (or woman) of your word. I've been striving lately to do what I say I'll do. It's hard and sometimes I hate it. Sometimes after I've said I would do something, I really wish I could take it back. Hell, recently it would've netted me $2,500.

You only want to do what you think is right (name the band who sang that line for extra bonus points!) and if that's what you're trying to do, no one can fault you, right? Sometimes it doesn't seem that way, but I try to think it don't matter as long as I can sleep at night. But even doing the right thing leaves me tossing and turning into the wee hours of the morning.

I know all of this is headed somewhere. But I just have to figure out where. Perhaps that's the goal.

Oh! The Places You Will Go!

Well, I can add another airport and, thanks to the dumbasses at MapQuest, two more states to the places I've been.

In this super short I'm-doing-this-so-I-don't-get-out-of-the-habit post, all I can say is if your first impression of Chicago is the neon-lit tunnel that takes you out to the cabs and busses, then it's fucking awesome. The oddly bent and twisted neon tubes, flashing on and off for a modern art-deco feel made me think this is a place for good times and not the gritty, hard-panned, fight for everything city I've imagined it to be. If only I could have spent more time there than I did and experience more than the airport and toll-roads. Maybe someday.

And now I've been in Illinois and Indiana. I can say Gary has to be one of the saddest places I've ever driven through. But it's still not as horrible as Rock Springs, Wyoming. That place is a bonafide shit hole and I'm pretty sure if I go to hell it's going to look like Rock Springs.

I Swear . . . .

. . . . I'm gonna' kill a mutherfukker!

I'm gonna' get revenge on the mutherfukkers who are edited job related junk and then I'm gonna' burn down the place that fucked up the order of flowers that were supposed to go to the missus.

Fuck! You'd think I was asking for the fucking moon! Just deliver the damn flowers when I tell you to!

-edited job related junk (it really is a good company, I'm just a little frustrated right now. 12 hour days will do that to you)-

Oh- and don't get me started on this whole house-selling bullshit!



Breathe deep









Okay, I feel better for now. Where'r my smokes, gin and firearms?

Eight Years Ago, at a Fairgrounds Near the Homeland . . . .

Today is the anniversay of the day the missus and I stood together and told our friends, family and the rest of the world we promise to love each other forever and hell or highwater or any other force will not tear us apart.

Right now three and a half hours and a mountain range are between us.

So, It's Been A While . . . .

I can't believe it's been over a month since I last posted anything. And what a helluva' of a month it's been.

Backstory: A while ago my wife was offered a position in the family biz as corporate counsel (yeah, she's an attorney. Luckily I don't have anything she'd want if she ever got sick of my shit!) back in the homeland. We talked it over. With the girl and the lack of family, hell, let's face it, we're pretty fucking anti-social so there's not even many friends to lean on, the missus and I decided we oughtta' head back home. We want our girl to know her grandparents and, with any luck, her remaining great grandparents. And it is our homeland. Up here, we're nobody. Our family name means nothing. Sure, we're starting to establish ourselves. But there's still something to be said about going back to the land you loved and the people there, for better or worse.

So, things went swimmingly. My job told me I could work from home. Some bad shit went down with her job, so her boss basically told her she was done working for the firm at the end of the month. She had planned to stay through September. This is why you never, ever, give anyone more than two weeks notice. YOU WILL GET FUCKED.

As a result, she had to go to home to the biz sooner. With the girl, which makes sense. But I'm stuck up here in hippie hell all by myself trying to sell our house.

Honestly, so far it isn't too bad. I've been so busy with my new "promotion" and all the bullshit that I haven't been home for long during the last two weeks. But I still miss them horribly. I hate the empty house. I hate the car rides home without the girl. The beautiful sunsets are worthless without anyone to share them with.

So, there's the super-condensed version of the last three months. I'm stressed, tired and probably worst of all, lonely. But everytime I start to feel sorry for myself or think about the firsts I'm missing, I just have to remember at least there are firsts to miss. And it can always be worse.

If going home alone, to an empty house, is the worst thing that happens to me today I should consider myself lucky.

More bitching to ensue . . . .