Twenty Four Hours From Now
I will be just coming home from having dinner, brews, and bitches (not the female kind) with 5 of my boys from ABF. That stands for Adult Bible Fellowship, in case I haven't mentioned it before.

I talked with one of them for about an hour earlier this evening. Samson -- I shit you not, that's his name -- was giving me a hard time about the email that I wrote to this particular group of people, explaining the situation between D and I. No, explaining's not the right word... OK, why don't I just print the message.

Dear Friends,

I've been feeling a burden to reach out to you all and let you know why you've not seen or heard from me lately. I regret that it has taken me this long to do so, and I ask for your forgiveness in advance for using email as the medium.

I regret to have to inform you all that my marriage to D appears to be irretrievably broken. Neither my efforts and prayers, nor God's unmistakeable acts of grace, have convinced her to stay. Certainly my many failures to bear spiritual fruit in the face of daily challenges and conflicts between us have not helped. At this point, D is in the process of negotiating an offer of employment in suburban Baltimore and may very well be gone as early as the first of December. She has also decided to finalize divorce papers she filed in the summer of 2004 by the end of this year. I decided to sign these papers last month after repeated requests over the past several months.

It's not my intent to cast blame, minimize my responsibility, or drag D's name through the mud, but rather to let you know what's going on. Each of you has a special place in my heart, as God has blessed me to share some small portion of fellowship in Christ with you. I just want to thank you for your friendship, support, concern and willingness to listen to me when I needed a friendly ear. I can't begin to express how much it has meant to me.

I believe that a significant part of experiencing the fullness of joy and contentment in God's grace lies in embracing one's circumstances as ordained in God's Sovereignty. I tried to encourage D to embrace our marriage and the events that led us to CEFC and Building Bridges as evidence of His encouragement to persevere in spite of our struggles. Now I find myself confronted with a new set of circumstances to embrace and in which I must persevere if I am to know what I only now believe.

An honest assessment of these circumstances, and myself, leads me to some disappointing conclusions. First, I am not convinced that CEFC is the right place for me to worship. There are a number of reasons I could cite for this uncertainty, but it really boils down to a basic personality conflict. I am just not a big church guy. I believe that we are called to live in community seven days a week and be a force for the Kingdom where we live. While there are no churches that I know of in my immediate area where the seats are as comfortable, or the sound system as crisp, or the music as professional sounding, or the people as cool as at CEFC, I know that there are people within spitting distance of where I now sit and type this email who both long for deep fellowship and the hope of the message of the Gospel.

However, there are also things that argue for me remaining. I have family members who attend CEFC. There's Celebrate Recovery, and an opportunity for me to use my gifts to serve there. And then there's you guys. I sure would miss seeing all of you and having the privilege of seeing how all of these babies turn out.

Anyway, that's where I'm at -- just so you know.

I'm probably not going to go to CEFC until I have a better idea how long D will be attending. I'd rather let her have the access to what God is doing there than bring a whole lot of discomfort into the mix. That's probably an excuse, but it's my story and I'm sticking to it.

I'm not in seclusion, but I'm not real outgoing at the moment, either. Which, I guess is my way of saying that it's OK if you want to write or call or get together. What I'd really appreciate more than anything is your prayers that the Lord would help me get up out of this pit I'm in right now. And please pray for D and her boys. I don't want to see them suffer any more than is necessary for God to do His work.

Thanks again so much for your gift of friendship!

Your brother in Christ,

The Drake

Samson was somewhat affronted by my playing the martyr (really, it was just an excuse) to portray my choice to interrupt my fellowship with them. Good call, really. Although I really was hoping that D would be more freed up to have a chance encounter with someone who would have the right words, the right heart to let God use them to drive home the truth to her. Alas, it was not to be, as it seems that I had done such a good job of convincing her that everyone from the ABF would naturally agree with me, that she avoided contact with any of them for over a month. It's clear that there will be no changing of her mind, nor any opportunity to experience the embrace of a concerned brother or sister.

While I was talking with the long-locked one, D was apparently having a real bad night. Stomping up and down the steps with her last major packing area -- her boys' bedroom things.

Then, she found out that the littlest one had busted a dresser drawer. Big surprise there. I've done my time with little boys and cheap, build-it-yourself furniture. L braces, wood screws and glue must be in every would-be parent's arsenal.

While she was running up and down the stairs and into the garage to get those things, the dog shit on the landing of the third floor. D stepped in it. Then it was on. She stormed around the house yelling and bitching at me for sitting in the recliner with my hands down my pants while MY dog shit in the house.

Ha! Excuse me, but I think it's more like MY dog shit in MY house.

But old habits die hard, I guess.

Oh, and I'm stinking up the whole house with my smoking, even though I've not had a single one inside the house. I'm at least giving her THAT consideration.

Tomorrow evening should be interesting. D intends to work a full day at the office, then pick up and pack her rental truck before sleeping one final night under my roof. Thursday morning, she will be gone from my life... forever?
- posted by The Drake @ 9:20 PM 5 comments

 
Rainy Tuesday in the Beaver Valley
Today is a day of somber reflection. I've stayed home from work to observe a ritual I have when a relationship ends. I clean my space, start to think how I'm going to use the space that's just been vacated, get high, listen to U2 and cry.

This need for an impromptu mental health day began during the Steelers game last night. I will say that I didn't mind so much losing to Tony Dungy and Peyton Manning. They are just the kind of people professional sports needs to do well.

Besides, Tony started here in the 'Burgh, making him one of us.

Bill Cowher, however, continues to disappoint me with his rash, ill-advised play calling. The pathetic attempt at an onsides kick to start the second half is just the latest evidence of his continuing inability to win the biggest games. The defense was very effective in keeping Indy off the field, but needing a long field in which to lose a few battles while winning the war. Putting such an explosive offense on our own 40 after the defense had to suffer giving up points at the end of the first half because of Big Ben's turnover was just plain stupid.

Speaking of Roethlisberger, he's not right. He needs more time to heal and get his feet under him. The last thing we need is for Cowher to permanently transform him into a pocket passer because the kid is trying to 'man up' for this lisping hardass. Get an experienced quarterback into town, Bill. Ben's not ready, and you got no one else. We need a semi-mobile game manager. Stop thinking about the running game as a "line-up-and-ram-it-down-their-throats" proposition. Get Parker, Staley and the Bus into space. Throw to Kreider and the tight ends, for shit's sake. Then wait for your opportunity to hurt 'em downfield. 5 yards is 5 yards, dude. Two yards a carry isn't going to cut, and is going to get your quarterback killed.

Sheesh! Tough guys. You can't teach them anything.

I hope that doesn't hold true for me as well, but ya gotta wonder. One of my brothers at church once told me that if you continue to have problems getting along with people, maybe the problem is you. Certainly true in my case. I've been an arrogant, pompous, demanding ass.

But there is more to me than that when I keep my thoughts on what Jesus has taught me and given me. It's amazing how quickly I turn to complaining and criticizing, considering how good my life really is in the grand scheme of things.

I've decided to open my house to host a weekly Bible study. I think I want to encourage people to get on a read-through-the-Bible-in-a-year program, but first I want to bring people into my home, and celebrate the Advent season by going through the Gospel of Luke. I'm feeling very liturgical right now, and I have come to see the value in following a Calender of Remembrance to keep the really important things in sight throughout the seasons of the year.

So I begin a time of being alone -- again. It's really not so bad, except for the missing out on sex part. But I guess it's high time I learned how to deal with that. It's certainly not been worth it to make it such a high priority.

Instead, I am going to work on my house. There are so many things that I want to do, but I think I am going to work on getting the sun room set up to have room to sit and chat, grow plants. I am going to probably cut a hole in the wall to connect the breakfast nook to a lunch counter in the sunroom. The major priority here is to create a place where a half dozen people can interact without violating personal space. I'm pretty excited about how it help create an environment of relationship, especially for my kids.

I'm done crying for now, although these last few days have been hard to endure.

Time to man up, bro.
- posted by The Drake @ 2:59 PM 2 comments

 
Fourteen Ways You've Blessed Me
Last breath: not yet

1. You helped me get back on track with my life.
2. You gave me the motivation to finally get a home of my own.
3. You were my best reason yet to learn how to forgive and forebear.
4. You forced me to face my own faults.
5. With your help, I've done my best work ever with my hands.
6. That thing that you do that I like. I REALLY, really LIKE it!
7. Your children have helped me find a calling to coach young boys in baseball.
8. They have also helped to make this football season the best since the Steelers were winning Super Bowls instead of losing AFC championship games.
9. Your financial gifts and knowledge has helped me learn to make the most of my resources.
10. The way that your poinsettas have flowered again this season blesses me. Please let me keep the red one!
11. The conflicts that we've had over living the Christian life have only served to solidify my commitments both to God and my children.
12. If it wasn't for your love of animals, I wouldn't have my Miss Maddie to cuddle on these coming winter nights. I will train her, keep her clean and groomed, and love her.
13. You made a lot of things possible for me, just by being attractive enough to keep me interested.
14. The tithe victory is one you should cherish for the rest of your life. You taught me something I didn't already know.
- posted by The Drake @ 8:54 AM 4 comments

 
Hit the Reset Button
Final toke tally: 123 days
Final smoke tally: 115 days

That's right, folks. The fast has ended. I guess my own evasive maneuvers continue. Oh well, I'll fall back on Luther's old adage: "Be a sinner and sin boldly, but believe and rejoice in Christ even more boldly, for he is victorious over sin, death, and the world."

As faithful readers might have guessed, my new ex-wife did not respond well to my "fall from grace". It turns out that D had been a faithful reader of this blog until 18 days ago, when my tag line for the last smoke tally read "99 days (but I'm weakening)". She confessed to me last night that upon reading that, she felt a twisting in the pit of her stomach and stopped reading lest she encounter my eventual confession of relapse. For some reason, she held out hope that this would come after she was safely out of town.

HA! While the main driving force behind my loss of will -- that's what it is, not a fall from grace -- is undoubtedly my unvanquished demand for comfort in the face of yet another abandonment, make no mistake that I was going to make sure that she was going to know about it once I'd made the decision to give in.

That was actually after I'd already made arrangments to break my ganja fast, but after waiting all day Saturday for delivery, I decided to jump off the tobacco wagon instead. After coming back from Sheetz with my fresh pack of Newport Lights, she pursued me out into the backyard, demanding an explanation and seeking to convince to abandon my folly. One of the highlights of this particular conversation was her response to my reply to her wondering why -- which was simply, "Because I feel like it".

Unbelievably enough, she had the stones to tell me that just wanting to do something didn't make it right. Oh, really? So how are we applying that principle during our packing?

After fifteen minutes of communicating to her that her status as ex-wife-in-residence didn't entitle her to any more of an explanation than that, nor a hearing of her 'concerns', she finally went off to bed. I figured that was that.

Oh, soooooo wrong.

When I got home from church yesterday, it was to discover that the laundry was underway. However, my clothes were not included, despite the fact that I have spent every weekend for months doing laundry for her and her kids. After a pleasant little conversation regarding my feelings on this, D spent most of the rest of the day as a basket case, getting all worked up every time she heard me go out the back door to have a smoke. The bottom line is that she was lashing out at me for having the audacity to smoke again.

I wasted a few more hours trying to engage in rational discourse over this state of affairs, until I got the call from the neighbor that Ganja Claus had dropped down my chimney. In the interest of science, I offered to share my first bowl with D, an offer she predictably (and eagerly) accepted until she realized that she had to undergo a piss test later in the week for her new job.

After I had indulged and was feeling talkative and insightful, I engaged her in a conversation where I apologized for some of the ways I've treated her and tried to explain how what's really hurt and frustrated me over this past year is the utter lack of enthusiasm and interest in this Christian life and what God was obviously (to me, anyway) trying to do in our marriage. Of course, the conversation derailed onto its usual sidetrack about how she didn't feel 'safe' or 'good enough' to let herself share openly. At that point, I just gave up. I got more out of watching the end of the Saints/Jets game than I did out of all of the hours I spent trying to communicate with this woman.

Two more days, and it will all be over.
- posted by The Drake @ 4:47 PM 3 comments

 
Ende
Last toke: 118 days
Last smoke: 111 days

A single sheet of paper. A single sentence of no more than 30 words. One signature and three ink stamps.

That's all it's come down to. It has been 'ordered and decreed'. A mere three days. It took longer to arrive in my mail.

That's the pitiful summary of The Drake and D.
- posted by The Drake @ 10:23 PM 1 comments

 
I'm a Geek, but a cool one

You scored as Pavel Chekov. You are Chekov. You are probably young, with grand ambitions and lots of energy. You are headstrong and tend towards brash action. You can become quickly involved in romantic attachments, but aren't too heartbroken when they end just as quickly. You do have what it takes to be a leader, but first you need to learn some judgement and self-control. You most likely have many friends and few enemies, your basic outgoing nature makes social contact very easy for you. Pavel Chekov 89% Captain Kirk 79% Uhura 61% Hikaru Sulu 50% Dr. McCoy 50% Montgomery Scott--"Scotty" 50% Spock 39% Nurse Chapel 39% Which Star Trek Character Are You? created with QuizFarm.com

Personally, I'd rather test for a character from one of the newer shows. I believe that if I did, I would be, respectively: Jean-Luc Picard of STNG; Dax from DS9; Chakotay from Voyager; and Porthos from Enterprise.

- posted by The Drake @ 2:46 PM 5 comments

 
The Splitsville 411
Last toke: 117 days
Last smoke: 110 days

My very strange day on Friday got a whole lot more interesting after I got home.

One small detail that I forgot to mention about my day was that I had a couple of cologne samples from Kaufmann's-soon-to-be-Macy's in my shopping bag. As the come hither aroma wafted up into my nostrils during the ride home, I was suddenly insprired to have a little fun with my situation. D loves cologne. I really don't. It makes me nauseous most of the time, but I will wear it on special occasions. This out of consideration for my now fleeing wife. Now I had a new consideration. I was going to dab on some when I got home, dress as if I was going out, and wait for a reaction.

However, D was so fixated on her flight preparations that she didn't notice anything. Moreover, her unattended brats were bouncing off the walls. Being a Friday night, I decided that I didn't need to stick around and endure this shit. So I put on my coat and went out, having no idea where I was going or what I was going to do.

My first thought was that I would just go to a movie. I'm really interested in seeing Walk The Line, as I'm fascinated by the whole redemption story of Johnny Cash. It's one of those few stories that makes me think that there's hope for me. But there was not a showing until 10:35, and I'm just not a late night guy anymore. So I went to a bar/restaurant across the river where I hoped I might find someone I knew or could get to know easily -- just to have some human contact in the face of my impending abandonment. I was not disappointed, as a woman I graduated with and her older brother walked in and sat next to me about 15 minutes after I arrived. We had a nice little conversation, and the brother and I commiserated in our separate tales of woe with the opposite sex.

I half expected a phone call from D, who had surely noticed my unusual disappearance from my haven of domestic bliss. I wasn't totally surprised not to get one, however, as D is just as likely to stew and fret in resentful silence as she is to speak up about her feelings. Actually, that's pretty much the status quo.So when I came home a couple hours later, I was unsurprised to find the porch light I had left on turned off and the front door deadbolted. Laughing at the pathetic futility of the gesture, I headed around back, where I can't be locked out -- hoping she had turned on the alarm so I could let it go off and launch her leaving ass into the ceiling. No such luck, but the best was yet to come.

As I hung my coat in the front foyer and headed up the steps, I was greeted by D with a puzzled look on her face.

"What are you doing?", she asked.

"Coming home. I was out", I replied, instantly realizing that she had not known that I was out. She thought I had just gone to my bedroom early and was completely complacent in her belief that that was the best response I was capable of in response to her nonsense.

"Oh, really?", she said.

"Yeah, I figured it's Friday night. Why sit around and watch you pack when I could go out and do something for a change."

"Lucky for you", she retorted.

"I wouldn't say lucky. Just free."

And with that I went to my room and got ready for bed.

About 20 minutes later, I'm disturbed by muffled, unusual sounds. I can't tell if it's her kids goofing around with the dog, or her diddling herself in the next room, or... something else.

So I get up to investigate, and... it's something else.

D is sitting on the floor in her 'office', the one that used to be my office until I gave it to her so she could have 'her own space'. She's holding her head in her hands, rocking back and forth, and sobbing. Now I'm feeling kinda bad, since it's obvious to me that I'm dealing with more than just a willfully ignorant, self-deceived apostate. This woman is genuinely unstable.

I ask her what's wrong. She's says it's just her imagination running away with her, and she's just being stupid.

"No Shit!", I want to say, but don't. How fucking ridiculous to have this kind of reaction to me going out when you've being packing up your shit for a week, and working on this divorce for months.

She goes on a bit about how I could have been smoking pot and cigarettes, or even worse, could have had someone new already. Of course, I couldn't resist the impulse to ask her what business it was of hers. She agrees, but continues to practically hyperventilate, fan her reddened face with her hands, and say, "Calm.... calm.... calm...", over and over again like the sheer power of that word will take care of what's eating at her.

By now, my damned conscience is really starting to get the better of me. I have no heart to really lay into her now. This game is no fun anymore. What I see crumpled up in a fetal ball before me is a shell of a human being who has no clue why she is suffering so, nor any inclination to listen to the voice that is nagging her to stop the cycle of pain.

I help her a little bit with the spyware problem she's developed on her PC, tell her that I am just next door if she needs anything, then go to bed.

The next morning, I invite in to have sex, thinking that she could use a little stress release. She readily agrees, of course. Afterwards, I tell her that it's not too late to change her mind. I point out to her that the intensity of her reaction points to a bond and unfinished business in our relationship. I remind her for the thousandth time that her problems will go with her, because her problems are not my doing. At least not the ones that impel her to flee this situation, and God's obvious call.

It takes less than five minutes to recognize that I'm wasting my time. She doesn't have the courage to back out of a bad decision when she believes that other people will end up mad at her for it. The new employer, her father, the current employer, the babysitter, the moving company... Basically anyone who isn't God or me... God, because she's convinced herself that God's totally cool with her plan to get away to someplace where she can really 'work on herself'. Me, because I'm just an over-the-top asshole who makes her feel inconsequential and incompetent.

Despite the recognition of futility, we continue to dance the same old dance until lunchtime. Finally, I decide that it's time to get some things done and let her get on with her escape.

Sunday we both went to church. Separately. I had decided that I was going to go both hours this week, as I had written an email to four couples with whom I've developed relationships over the past year, filling them in on the situation. D only stayed for the service.

The sermon was taken from the Book of Acts, Chapters 8 through 12. The theme was one that I've been dwelling on for some time now -- trusting in God's Sovereignty in the face of tough times. For those of you who don't know these passages, I'll summarize it by saying that had these events not taken place as they had, Christianity would most likely have been relegated to the status of a minor Jewish cult, instead of the world changing faith it has become. But God accomplished it through pain, suffering and death of those who believed. Yet they experienced great joy and power in their faithfulness, trust and obedience.

As I sat there, two things kept swimming through my mind. First, how could D sit week after week in that church and be able to choose as she has? Second, and more important, what am I gonna do with this truth? As I sat, I decided that I was just going to have to let go of D once and for all. If God hasn't been able to convince her to trust and obey, what kind of chance do I have?

No, it's more important that I put an end to my own flight from God. D likes to counter that there is no difference in degree or scale between her sin in pursuing this divorce and my various sins of anger, bitterness, and omission. I both agree and disagree. While my failure to love grieves God no less than D's choice to divorce and ignore God's many interventions into our situation, there is a hardening that comes with taking a trifling stance with God that you can do your own thing now and repent later. We've all done it. Me as much, if not more, than anyone. But that just makes the path to restoration all that much more difficult.

But that's all irrelevant now. All that matters is that for which I have to bear responsibility. It's time for the anger and bitterness to end. It's time to travel the hard and narrow path to restoration and healing. I've always wanted someone to travel with me, but now I realize that everyone has to go this one alone. You don't meet God with your wife and friends, at least when it's time to take care of your business. Someone can take you to the door, but you have turn the handle and step into the audience all by yourself.

With God's grace and timing, D will come to her own encounter, or continue to suffer the mental, emotional and physical erosion of her self that displayed itself with such force Friday night. I can only commend her to God's care and discipline.

In the meantime, I have an opportunity to get rid of my own crippling self-protection and finally get a life.
- posted by The Drake @ 9:49 AM 0 comments

 
I've Got Gas Pains!
Last toke: 114 days
Last smoke: 107 days

Today has been a very strange day. Several weeks ago, I sold 41 cheesecakes for my daughter's fundraiser that is providing money for her spring trip to Boston with the high school choir. Today was the day to deliver them. In my enthusiasm to make my little princess the third place prize winner in the overall sales contest -- an achievement to which she contributed exactly one cheesecake sold to her best friend's aunt (which means her friend actually did the selling) -- I failed to recognize the logistical problems with ensuring delivery of 41 FROZEN cheesecakes.
Neither I nor my daughter's queen ____ (you fill in the blank) of a mother own a big enough freezer to store them until they were to be delivered. Nor was I 100% sure that there was enough freezer space in my office to keep the puppies frozen until work let out. This is not to mention that our employee parking lot is a fifteen minute walk from the office. No way I'm hauling 7 boxes of cheesecake that far!

Fortunately, the sudden cold snap allowed me to keep the cakes in my car overnight with no risk of thawing. Then I paid $17 so I could park right next to the building. Coming in extra early, I worked myself into a sweat sorting, labeling and stuffing the cakes into any available freezer space I could find on six floors. Finally, nearly nauseous from having sacrificed my extra large, morning coffee from Au Bon Pain, I sent out the emails to all of my now-satisfied customer/co-workers.

With that over, I try to settle into a normal workday and get something accomplished. However, I am still reeling from yesterday's disclosures from D that:

a) she took the job in MD, at $8K less than what she needs to maintain the standard of living her current salary affords her here;
b) her last day at work here is Nov. 30, meaning that she will not be fulfilling her promise to maintain benefits on me and my kids until the end of the year (I've already enrolled us at my work beginning in January);
c) she's already officially changed her name back to her first husband's last name. I guess I understand that it makes some sense, since that's the name her kids go by. But the guy is a total loser, and has had virtually no contact with his children in the three years that I've known them;
d) she's not sure where she's going to spend Thanksgiving. Hey, I've got an idea! HOW ABOUT IN HELL, BITCH!

The whole thing is sort of taking me by surprise. I mean, part of me is totally glad to be rid of her, but it's getting damn near impossible to endure the constant sight of her packing up her shit and scurrying around like her ass is on fire - she's in such a hurry to get away from me.

So I'm just about getting back on track, putting my domestic bliss out of my mind, when the fire alarm in the building goes off right in the middle of a meeting. We get these drills once in a while, and they usually come at a very inconvenient time.
This, however, was no drill.

Seems that we had a gas leak somewhere, and the geniuses in charge thought it would be a good idea to keep us standing out on the sidewalk in thirty-degree temperatures. One of the guys in my meeting didn't even have a chance to get his coat, as it was five floors up and the elevators were shut down.

After about fifteen minutes of freezing my nuts off, I decided it was time to go to lunch. Many of my fellow employees had the same idea, and I heard from the bartender at the cafe where I ate that the building was probably going to locked down for two hours.

Day shot.

So I went shopping. Got myself two nice shirts, two pairs of slacks and a belt -- all on sale -- at Kaufmann's-soon-to-be-Macy's. That way when D sees me getting dressed for church this weekend, she will finally see just how much she's going to miss the stud-muffin that is me.

Yeah, right.
- posted by The Drake @ 3:18 PM 2 comments

 
The Plan
Last toke: 111 days
Last smoke: 104 days

Are you married? Do not seek a divorce. Are you unmarried? Do not look for a wife.
--St. Paul (I Corinthians 7:27)

Admittedly, I'm a bit testy these days. I'm coming to grips with the reality that my efforts to convince D. to embrace God's Call in our circumstances have failed miserably. Now my circumstances are changed, and it's up to me to embrace a new set of implications in God's Sovereignty.

Barring any last minute miraculous intervention, I will again be a single man by the end of the year. From what I can tell, that's probably a good way for me to remain. This is not a prospect I relish, but I can't even begin to consider bringing another woman into my children's lives after all that's happened here. Nor can I easily just revert to my former level of promiscuity, simply to deal with my loneliness and sexual desires. When I say 'easily', I mean without huge amounts of guilt, regret and other, possibly unpleasant, consequences. I could very easily get drawn into doing the deeds, but I am too aware of the cost, at the moment, to do anything other than suffer as a result.

At this point, the only value I can find in a woman is for sex. I know that this is a wrong attitude, but it is what it is. So rather than screwing up my life any more than I already have, I think I'll just do my best to avoid them altogether. At those to whom I feel any sort of physical attraction.

I have somewhat of a desire to get back in touch with God, but not enough of one to actually get on my knees or crack open the Word. I don't know why, but it is growing. I guess maybe I'm not ready to give up my ranting just yet. I guess that's what unforgiveness feels like. I don't really know.

What I do know is that I will be lonely. That I will be horny. That I will be tempted to act out in anger at the unfairness of it all.

And I know that the only one that I will be hurting if I surrender to that temptation is myself. Maybe some others, too. But mostly myself. Either way, it won't be worth it.

So what are the five stages of grieving again? Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance? Well, the denial's over, that's for sure. That ended the day I agreed to sign her stupid divorce papers. Anger? Check. We're in full swing here at the moment. Bargaining? Somehow, I don't see that happening this time around. Did that last year, and look where it got me. Hasta la vista, baby! Depression? That's an ongoing state with me, so I guess the only left is acceptance. I've done that somewhat already. I just wish she'd leave already. Going home to growing piles of packed boxes with her and her two spawn in the way all of the time is just really aggravating.

Yep, anger phase still going strong.

I've pretty much decided that I need to go back to church and at least let the people I know there that I'm not dead, terminally ill, off on a bender, or anything else dramatic. I don't know that I can continue in the fellowship in the same way that I have been over the past year. The group I got involved with is demographically incompatible with my new situation. They are mostly D's age, either busy with the responsibilities of young children, having babies, or looking for someone with whom to get started down that path.

I'm on the short side of 50. My kids are all teenagers. I have no wife, nor any real time obligations outside of work and weekend visitations. I feel the need to develop relationships with people who are more available. Problem is, most people within the church who are more my own age are still either married and dealing with at home teens.

So my preliminary plan is to start going to the class my uncle leads during the first hour. Most of the folks there are late-50's to late-60's. Maybe I can get a little perspective. And it's not likely that I'll find myself tempted to start up a relationship with any of the widows.

Eliminate the distractions. Focus on the essentials.

That's the plan.

- posted by The Drake @ 4:22 PM 3 comments

 
Update from Splitsville
Last toke: 110 days
Last smoke: 103 days

My weekend started with the revelation that D. had gone and got herself a job in Maryland, with a probable start date in early December. I knew that she had gone there on an interview, only because she wanted me to adjust my work schedule to take care of her kids while she was gone. As if.

This new job represents a significant bump in gross pay for D., probably about $15K. Unfortunately, I don't believe she is taking into account the differences between living 5 min. from your job in Beaver County to one requiring some sort of commute in suburban Baltimore. Based on my best estimation, she will require an additional $6K just to maintain her existing standard of living. That's not taking into consideration that she's promising to pay me an additional $200 per month to avoid me having to allow foreclosure on the house.

Of course, when one is so intent on leaving the difficulties of having a real marriage in the face of disappointed fantasy, I guess no price is too high. Besides, she will be living near her father -- a huge bonus, considering this is the guy who abandoned her when she was 9 so that he could continue on HIS merry way through 4 marriages as some sort of nominal Christian whose first drink of the day usually occurs before noon. Unresolved Daddy issues seem to be high on my list of things to look for in a potential mate.

So after letting me pick up her kids and feed them on Friday night, she proceeds to spend the rest of the weekend -- which happened to include my kids' visitation, along with one of my oldest son's friends -- packing up as much of her shit as she could with ten times more energy than I've ever seen her put into either her kids or this so-called marriage.

Yesterday, after enduring her in my bed because there's no place else for her when my kids are in town, she rolls over and asks me if I'm blowing of church again. Ever heard of the Theater of the Absurd? Any conversation I have with this deluded woman lately seem to take on that surreal tinge.

When I tell her that, yes, I am planning on not enduring two hours of hypocrisy and shame over this sad situation, I ask her if she's going. Oh yes, of course she is, as if that was the most ludricrous question I could ask. Of course, she's not going to have any meaningful interactions with anyone, nor tell a soul what it is that she is doing. I guess she's just going there to ask for God's Blessing on her flight plan, and pray that He will somehow compensate for her woeful lack of parenting and provision of things that matter in the lives of her boys so that she can get on with finding a life that's more to her liking.

My response? A snort and a smirk. I want nothing to do with this charade. I don't feel like having a bunch of well meaning brothers and sisters dig into this open wound. I don't feel like talking to God about it, so why should I bother showing up at His House? For some strange reason, I also can't just go and pretend and not talk about what's going on to those people with whom I've developed a bit of a relationship. I can't seem to quite put my finger on the reason why.... Oh! I remember now! Because it's what the communion of saints is for, among other things.

I figure that I'll just pout a little longer, and wait for her to go away without an explanation. That way, when I show back up, I can at least let them know why they'll never see or hear from her again.

Well, D. does not take too kindly to my little display of utter disgust with her hypocrisy, and feels the need to straighten me out. She believes in Jesus, she says, and that's why she continues to go to church.

Oh really? I had to bite down on my lip to keep from laughing right in her face. I did manage a spiteful comment about believing but not following, but it just felt mean and hollow. The same can most definitely be said about me. I can't really put it into words, but there's just something not right whenever she talks about her... Faith? No, I can't really call it that. She's been right there when God has done some pretty frickin' amazing things, but she just seems able to brush it off like it never happened. No, I guess what she has is some sort of religion built up in her mind that allows her to continue down this self-destructive path without any concern or fear about what it's going to cost her or her children. It's sad, really.

Mind you, I'm not propping myself up as some sort of model to emulate. Fuck, no. I've got consequences of my own on hand and up the road a bit. I guess the difference is that I realize that there's no way out or around the reality of God's Hand on my life. I just need to stopped choosing to let it rest so damn heavy.
- posted by The Drake @ 11:28 AM 14 comments

 
The Babes
Last toke: 106 days
Last smoke: 99 days (but I'm weakening)

OK, since no one else wants to play, I've found a couple of sitcom babes to take with me on my fantasy marooning.

First is Cousin Serena from Bewitched. All the hotness of Samantha with a bad girl attitude. Grrrrrrrr!

My second choice is Denise Huxtable, but from A Different World, not the Cosby Show. A young, nubile, multiracial, hottie co-ed with a serious wild streak.

Let's get this party started!
- posted by The Drake @ 10:35 AM 0 comments

 
Swinging Fantasy
Last toke: 105 days
Last smoke: 98 days

Some of my blogging peeps have recently published a quiz based on 5 'what if' questions from a blogger by the name of MCF. I liked one of the questions, so I'll answer it here, in detail.

The question is, "If you could be marooned on a desert island with three sitcom characters, who would they be?"

Segueing from my comment to Susan on my last post, my answer would be to have a swinging fantasy with two women and another guy. Tropical paradise, tanned bodies, sun, surf... What else would I do to while away my time?

The reason that there is a guy in this 'cast' is twofold. First, I'm realistic. I'd never be able to satisfy the sexual needs of three, hot, sitcom lovers by myself. I'm assuming that there'd be no pharmacy or mail order Viagra available, so there you have it.

Second, seeing as it would be physically impossible to have sex all the time and emotionally impossible to keep company with three women 24/7 because, well, they're women, I would need a bud to do guy stuff with. You know, someone with whom I could go fishing, build stuff, brew alcholic beverages from native fruits and grains, get drunk, belch and fart.

For me, the guy choice is a slam dunk. Chandler Bing. Even though he's not what you'd call a real "man's man", I think he and I would get along great. He's funny as fuck and not someone I'd likely to get into a pissing contest with. Plus, I'd get to be the dominant male, which I kinda like.

The women are much harder for me to think of right off the top of my head. In fact, I'm stumped.

I'm not sure if any of you really know my taste in women. Hell, I'm not even sure I do. But they need to be hot and slutty enough to do everyone else on the island, but also possessed of intelligence, depth and self-confidence. No one leaps to mind.

Any suggestions?
- posted by The Drake @ 3:39 PM 2 comments

 
Feminista!
Last toke: 100 days
Last smoke: 93 days

So yesterday's post seems to have created a mild stir. Cool. I like a good fight.

Although, to be perfectly candid, it was just a stupid rant. An excess of pressure built up from a lifetime of being discarded by women whom I loved and whom I felt should have loved me in return, but didn't.

So I focus on loving myself. Realizing that I am flawed like everyone else, I embrace that which others would rather not deal with. My view is that the very things that make me unacceptable now as they reveal themselves in 'defects' are the very same things that attracted these women intially and were revealed as strengths.

I am intense, so that aspect of my personality is what drove me to overwhelm these women with passion, confidence and the trappings of success. That aspect also spurs me on to vigorously defend my beliefs and values when they came in conflict with theirs.

I am wounded, which reveals itself at times in what has proven to be an appealing vulnerability to certain women, but which also can result in extended periods of depression and silence from me.

I am smart and eloquent, which can be appealing to women who are looking for security or intelligent conversation, but very unappealing when in the midst of a disagreement.

I am confident in most respects, which again offers the hope of security in some, but can be very annoying when it becomes apparent that I don't need their favor enough to become a lapdog or a doormat.

Yet I live paycheck to paycheck because I have four children with a woman who has very little ability to make a decent income on her own, but more than enough pride and vindictiveness to put me out because I didn't deal well with her unwillingness to keep a clean house and make dinner while I struggled to make enough money to keep us afloat.

Hey, I know that I'm an asshole. So what? If you get involved with me, I'm going to tell you what I think, what I want, and what I don't like. In no uncertain terms. I yell, argue, belch and fart. I also joke, laugh, tease and listen.

I love women. I'm just not interested in paying for the mistakes of their fathers, employers and ex's. I'll make enough of my own, thank you very much.
- posted by The Drake @ 11:58 AM 3 comments

 
Ranting Miscellany
Last toke: 99 days
Last smoke: 92 days

Being increasingly busy at work, along with increasingly not giving a fuck, my blogging interest has seriously waned.

However, a few rants that have been building up in me, and I've got a few minutes here to give them voice.

First, I am heartily sick of dishonest Christians and church by the numbers. Where is the depth? I am sooooo sick of The Purpose Driven Church, I want to puke. How about the Serving Church? The Caring Church? The Discipling Church? The Church that notices when you're gone and makes an honest effort to be a friend, not just another person telling you to just trust God?

The West Wing is another object of my increasing dissaffection. In the campaign to elect a new President in the America that Hollywood wishes existed, but doesn't, both candidates are pro-choice, the country is 60% pro-choice, and the pivotal issue in swinging the electoral balance is who the femi-nazis are going endorse as the best bet to keep Roe v. Wade intact.

What disturbs me most about this is the amount of people who will actually be influenced into buying this whole crock of shit.

Speaking of femi-nazis, you can all blow me. I am so sick of being made to feel like I am the sole reason for your misery. Take some responsibility for a change. You all wanted to be like men, so act like it.

One of the whole driving forces behind the women's movement was liberation from your status as second class citizens. From what I can see, all you've achieved is claiming actively what you decried passively.

BTW, my definition of femi-nazi is as follows:

1. They are vehemently pro-abortion, equating the ability to kill another human being with true freedom. Sort of like Nietzche.

2. They define abusive relationships as any in which they don't get their way. If a man raises his voice in an argument, he is abusive. If he reaches the end of his patience after enduring weeks/months/years of provocation and calls her a life sucking bitch, he is abusive. If he decides to deal with his frustration by diverting his seething desire to snap her neck and snapping a piece of furniture instead, he is abusive. If he dares to refuse to leave the home he pays for simply because she wants him to, he is abusive.

3. They view men as unnecessary impediment to their own happiness and fulfillments.

4. They view traditional marriage as enslavement.

5. They view having and raising children as a fulfilling experience, meant to be had on their terms, regardless of the needs of their offspring.

6. Sacrificing their own agendas, either for husband or children, is not an option.

7. They raise extremely fucked up children and set them loose on society.

They all need to just shut and go make me a sandwich.
- posted by The Drake @ 3:14 PM 6 comments