Wednesday, December 28, 2011

Guest Post: Dating After Divorce

Dear Diary:

This Guest Post (My first one!!!) comes to you from David Stevenson. Off and on, should others wish to submit a GP, please drop me a note directly. I trust you are all smart enough to know how to navigate a web page and find my contact info on here. K thanks bye.

Dating after divorce, is it possible?

For many people who have gone through a divorce it can be an extremely stressful time. It can also leave you asking many questions as to why it happened or whether you could have done anything differently.

The whole experience even if it is amicable will leave some sort of mark on you, and one of the hardest periods can often be the divorce settlement issue which can be taxing on partners, families and even friends.

However, once the process is over you have a new life to contend with and have to realise things will be different. Rather than making decisions that will affect other people you will have to start making choices that directly affect you.

And for many new divorcees this can be quite difficult as they have spent most of their adult life in a co-dependent relationship. Furthermore, for lots of divorcees the idea of going on a date can be quite alien and a very nerve racking thought.

Ideally, if you have come out of a long-term relationship or marriage it is best to let the dust settle so you can make decisions about what you want to do with your life. It can also be a good time to find new hobbies to help build you confidence, focus the mind and allows you to meet new people.

For example, taking an art class can be a good way to let your creative side out while coming across others who are interested in similar things to you.

One thing for sure is that at some point in the future friends and family members will be encouraging you to “get off the shelf”, which is very difficult to do at times.

In some cases they will even set-up blind dates for you. And if they do arrange this and you are feeling confident enough why not go? Most of the time if you do go on one of these little rendezvous you end up having a better time than you thought you would.

I’m not saying that dating after divorce is easy because for everyone it is different. However, there is no reason to believe that just because you are no longer married that it should stop you enjoying your life and in some cases finding love.

The whole process is about having fun and coming to terms with your new lifestyle. One part of the dating game that can be extremely enjoyable is going to a speed dating session with a group of friends.

This allows you to be more relaxed, meet new people and let your hair down. It is important to remember that I’m not saying dating is a way to replace the love you once had or still have for someone – but by taking the leap it can help you make a positive move forward in your life.

Saturday, December 24, 2011


Dear Diary:

As a child, we look up to our parents (well, for the most part, unless our parents are abusive assholes). We depend upon them to teach us, nurture us, take care of us, and to prepare us to be independent individuals.

Then we grow up. We get older. And so do our parents.

For many people, there comes a time when the child becomes the caretaker. The child becomes the one that helps the parent, financially, and otherwise.

I think for many people, we always know that this time can come, and will come. But we do not know when it will come. And we are never really prepared for when it arrives.

The last couple of months in my life have witnessed this turning point with one of may parents. I have been the one that has been prepared to take care of things. And I have been prepared to help out financially. And I have. And I will freely admit that my brother has as well. I do not want to sound like a martyr, shouldering a responsibility alone.

I was not prepared for this in my 33rd year, in fact, I was thinking this probably wouldn't happen until I was in my mid-forties. But, this moment has arrived, and there is nothing I can do to change that.

But, then I put myself in my parent's shoes. It must be incredibly difficult to ask a child for assistance. It must in some sense wound their pride, and that is not lost on me. It must be frustrating as hell to live a full and independent life and then without warning come to a point where one must ask for such help.

And it isn't that I am saddened by the fact that this moment has arrived. What is saddening is what happens once this moment arrives, and that is the realization that both of my parents have passed the half-way points in their lives. And while it is still probably years away, the end will indeed come sooner rather than later.

Friday, December 16, 2011

You're So Vain, I Bet You Think This Post Is About You...

Dear Diary:

The Washington Post recently wrote a little piece on a highly scientific and reputable survey that listed the nation's capital as one of America's vainest cities. You may find that article here.

Ok, so it isn't that scientific. A poll by LivingSocial probably isn't the best thing to base one's thesis on, know what I mean. Not to mention, of the entire sample size of 4,000 respondents, only 200 were from the DMV. Do you really think the opinions of 200 people in the DMV carry that much weight? Ok, well, in some instanced they do, but I am not in the mood to give a civics lesson at the moment. Anyway, here is how DC ranked according to this landmark in scientific data in some other categories:

Women here are beautiful — 1st (yup, women here are smokin' hot, I won't deny that)

Men here are metrosexual — 1st (whatever that means, I still don't know)

Men here are bald — 1st (some of us like the shaved look, its more comfortable, so suck it)

People here are superficial — 1st (maybe because we live and work in the center of world power? maybe? just maybe? someone give me a reason)

People here have bad personal hygiene — 2nd (there are a lot of tourists, just sayin')

People here are overweight — 3rd (fuck you, suck my balls)

People here dress badly — 4th
(I have seen enough fashion horror stories to laugh at this and nod)

People here are athletic — 5th
(hey, we walk a lot, but how can we be fat and athletic?)

Now, I will freely admit that I have several issues with living in the District. But how superficial and vain the people are really isn't one of them. Maybe because I actually hang out and know more people that are pretty down to earth, who are just trying to get by, and live the life they want to. Sure, I have seen what I consider to be a randomly high concentration of Louis Vuitton, but does that mean by and large the city is filled with superficial people? And what is the demographic breakdown of the respondents to this survey, that's what I want to know.

Anyway, just thought it was interesting. Feel free to discuss amongst yourselves or share an opinion.

Sunday, December 11, 2011

Forgive Me Diary

Dear Diary:

Forgive me Diary, for I have sinned. It has been 20 days since my last entry. In those twenty days I have dated, I have worked, I have bought Christmas gifts, I have, well done a lot of shit.

And that is why I haven't written. I have just been busy. Too busy really. Like so busy I do not know when or where I will have my next meal at, or when or where I will take a shit. Sleep? What's that? I haven't had a decent night's sleep in a couple of weeks. Well, strike that, I have had two. It was nice waking up those mornings as well.

I have drank a decent amount. I have gotten soaked in the rain. I have bought new bedding (any guy that says he doesn't like new sheets is a fucking liar) that actually looks nice. Not gaudy nice. Not "out of a catalog" nice. But nice.

So, I guess this is where I am supposed to tell you how dating life is treating me. Let's say that it is treating me well. I am not writing much more that that because A) this is not a dating blog, and B) the intimate details (and that is different from details of intimacy) are none of your fucking business (same goes for talking about the intimacy, if there is any). At least that is where my mind is right now.

I think one of the things I let get to me before was writing about the women I went out with, like I was trying to analyze them and find a fault through some process that my mind created to justify something that I was hoping for or fighting against. Not this time. The only detail I will give is that dating is treating me well. Oh, another one is that I am glad I got my eyes from my mom. These puppies are doing wonders, knowwhatimsayin'?

One completely random thought on dating is that I am actually saving more money each month by dating than I was when I wasn't dating. I haven't figured the math out on that one, but fuck, I am not exactly complaining either. AND I PAY, RELIGIOUSLY!

Now, I am going to watch Dexter. As always, feel free to leave a message or show me your cans, cause you know, boobs are great!

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Giving Thanks

Dear Diary:

I guess the thing to do this year on the social network chosen by many is, for each day, name someone one is thankful for. At least that is what I have noticed. Some are heartfelt, some are sarcastic, and some make me think the person writing it needs therapy. So I will do my best not to list a litany of things that make you think I need psychoanalysis.

But I make no promises.

I am thankful that I am here. Sure, life isn't perfect. But is sure as shit beats being dead. And I imagine you would probably agree. In fact, I think you would be hard pressed to find proof that death is better than living, because the people who could prove it are dead, and not exactly able to speak. Unless they are zombies, and then well they just make noises and try to eat you. And that there is enough to prove living is better than being dead.

I am thankful that the curb appeal of my house has drastically improved as a result of paying a landscaping company to do what they do best. I mean, they took a small plot of ground and turned it into something beautiful. Got rid of all the grass, and built patios and walkways.The only real problem is the fact that squirrels seem to love to tear up the new mulch. Maybe I should get a pellet gun and start picking them off? Not only would I be rid of them, but I could make myself a hat.

I am thankful for my tongue. It allows me to enjoy tasty, sweet, delicious things. Like pie.

I am thankful for pumpkin pie. Not so much pecan pie. Oh, and peach cream pie from Dangerously Delicious Pies. I am definitely thankful for that. It sells out FAST though when they have it. Too fast if you ask me.

I am also thankful for bacon. Who isn't?

I am thankful I have yet to act out in a fit of road rage and run some of these mutherfuckers who cannot drive right off the road. Seriously people, get the fuck out of the way. You want to know why there is traffic? It's you, dumbass. You are the reason. Now MOVE.

I am thankful for leftovers, particularly Thanksgiving leftovers. I mean, is it completely strange that I like the leftovers better than the actual meal? Am I completely off here? I don't think so.

I am of course thankful for my friends and family. For one, they are the reason I exist. Two, they do the small things, even my friends, such as sending me homemade tortillas and homemade jam. And yes people, you should be jealous.

I am thankful the Foo Fighters put on an AMAZING show on November 11th at the Verizon Center.

I am thankful that I do not have this overriding need to tell people when I need to take a shit or other mundane facets of my life. Hence I have not joined Twitter, which unfortunately when put into the wrong hands demonstrates the utter stupidity of some people.

I am thankful for my divorce. And that's the truth.

Happy Thanksgiving

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Of Course Bacon IS Awesome, But....

Dear Diary:

Now, I have pontificated before on the utter glory that is bacon, and pork fat in general. It makes the world go round, from a nice thick cut of apple wood smoked bacon, to pancetta, to well, anything that is bacon. If it has bacon in it, it is bound to be glorious

But, Baconlube?

I will simply have to draw the line at this one. No offense to all you kinky bacon lovers out there, but I prefer a woman to smell like a woman, and taste like a woman, and oh the

I will just go out on a limb here and say flat out that I do not think pussy should taste like bacon. Or smell like bacon.

Also, when I first saw this I will freely admit to the large volume of jokes and one liners that started filling my brain in a matter of a few seconds. I mean bacon flavored lube gives "porking" and "going hogging" an entirely new twist now doesn't it? Furthermore, guys have long referred to their junk as their "hog" and "pork sword" and to actually have it taste and smell like bacon could only further complicate things. Talk about an identity crisis.

I for one do not want my junk to taste or smell like bacon either. I mean, what if (and this is a big if lately) some woman is going down on me and I taste like bacon. What if she forgets that what she has in her mouth is not bacon? WHAT IF SHE BITES? I mean, we all know (except for those communist vegetarians and vegans out there) the sheer mesmerizing powers that bacon possesses. Bacon should not be responsible for sexual injuries.

I know bacon is a pleasurable thing, but this may be taking it a little to far. Just sayin'.

Monday, November 7, 2011

On God And Shit...

Dear Diary:

I will first have to say that this, the first entry of the Month of November in the Year of Our Lord 2011, was triggered, no, IT WAS INSPIRED, but the last episode of Dexter.

Ha. You thought I was going to get all holier-than-thou on you. Suckatash.

I am not going to give a brief recap of last night's episode so as not to give out any spoilers, but I will have to say that it centered around forgiveness as the central theme. Kinda. But this really doesn't have anything to do with forgiveness, at least it doesn't right this second as I am writing. Who knows where it will end up when I am finished.

Do I believe in a higher power? Yes, I can say that I do. I think the universe is much to vast for there not to be something larger at work. But do I believe everything organized religion stands for? Do I have the need to go to church in a house built by human beings to listen to human beings talk about a book that was written by human beings about other human beings? No, not so much.

Now, I do not begrudge people who feel the need to do such things. I do not begrudge them for being a part of a community of people who do such things. I do not begrudge them at all. However, I do begrudge the inherent contradiction that lies between them all.

For instance. A woman cheats on her husband. She tells her husband. Her husband turns to God for answers, and says his faith will get him through this. Faith in what exactly? That you do not have it within yourself to use the gift of free will that all humans have to make a decision based upon the facts as they have been laid out before you that your wife liked sucking another man's dick? Personally, in that situation I find weakness. And that really turns my stomach.

Or maybe the husband that has cheated on his wife, drinks a ton, beats his kids, steals, and is generally a horrible person, who "find's Jesus" and all of a sudden is forgiven for everything he has done and it doesn't matter what other human beings think of him or his past misdeeds because Jesus has saved him and he has been forgiven.

First of all, a person cannot decide that they themselves are forgiven if their past transgressions have negatively impacted another. They do not get to make that decision. They can forgive themselves only for the shit that they do to themselves. That's about it. For all the other bad shit they did, yeah, it doesn't work like that.

The one thread to seems to weave its way through everything is that if you believe, the way someone else said you should believe, then you do not have to be accountable for any decision that you make because everything is already predestined, in God's plan. It was God's plan for the wife to cheat on her husband so that his faith may be tested. It was God's plan for the rat bastard of a husband and father would do such horrible things in order to hit the bottom and be saved. And the contradiction inherent in that? The fact that one must give up free will, which apparently is something that separates us from all other of God's creatures, in order to believe this, because no one can actually have free will if what you are doing is predestined.

If God has a plan, I am guessing that his plan is nothing more than to sit back and laugh his ass off as we try to find a reason why we do the stupid and fucked up shit that we do. And that is where my faith and reason coincide. I have faith that there is a higher power. I just do not have faith that I can only believe in the way that someone else says I have to believe, or it isn't real.

Brother Sam chose his path. He made a choice to turn his life around. His faith helped him conquer his demons. He chose forgiveness instead of vengeance. But it was HE who made the choice. No one else.

Saturday, October 22, 2011

Etiquette For Dating A Divorced Person

Dear Diary:

*This is in no way directed towards anyone in particular, but just a general observation based upon past experiences*

When dating a divorced person, there is a certain rule, or rather thing, that one who has not been divorced should not do, particularly if you have not been dating for a long period of time.

For starters, it is perfectly ok, and perfectly acceptable for one to ask about the divorce. Personally, I always tell the women I date that it is fine with me for them to ask whatever questions they may have, and I am honest with my answers. If I am interested in someone, and things are going well, being completely honest about my divorce is a definite. My general answer at this point is that it just didn't work out.

If someone wants to know more, that is fine. However, remember that asking if there was any infidelity can have negative consequences, particularly if the divorced person was the one that was left while they ex was out fucking some strange.

However, once learning that the person your dating is divorced, the main rule to live by is never, ever, say anything negative about the divorce in order to try to make yourself feel better.

If you are dating someone who is divorced, and they are no longer interested, for whatever reason (you are boring, boorish, bad in bed, overbearing, bat shit crazy, etc., etc.) the ONE FUCKING RULE you should remember is NEVER, EVER FUCKING EVER, say something like:

"Well, your ex didn't give you another chance, so I thought you would be more compassionate and understanding."

Yeah, that is only going to have on reaction, most likely ending in a "Fuck You."

Just passing on some knowledge folks.

Sunday, October 16, 2011

When Worlds Collide

Dear Diary:

Well, that speechless moment lasted long, didn't it? Now, here are a couple of thoughts.

I do not consider myself a blogger. I just use this tool to get things off my chest because A) I am better at writing than speaking sometimes, and B) I can't afford to pay someone to listen to me bitch. But, since I have a blog, and well, blog, then I guess I am a blogger. Kinda sorta maybe.

Now, there are several bloggers in the DC area. Some guys, some girls. Some have something to say. Some don't. Some are thought provoking. Some need to learn how to use the English language. But I digress.

But what happens when the dating service of your choosing matches you with a blogger? What happens when you actually follow the blogger you are matched with? Or what happens when you go out a couple of times with someone else who uses this tool?

Yes, this has all happened to me.

Not with good results.

So, here are a couple of thoughts:

When you go out, and are not dating, but have made out, even spent the night together (no sex, I swear), there should be some sort of bottom line level of decency. What should not happen is that when one gets sick, like with bronchitis or something, and feels as though he (gave it away didn't I) was hit by a bus, that one has to read about how the girl he was hanging out with is suddenly madly in love/lust with someone else, especially after such a short time from aforementioned sleep over. Not really cool. There has to be some leeway given is someone is sick. You don't just hop in bed with the next guy and leave another hanging. And if you do, give them a heads up before you fucking write about it. And gloat about it. Because it only gives the one left hanging a sick pleasure when he (gave it away again, oops) reads that the one you were so into drops your ass. I admit, I smiled. For a while.

But, that is not the worst part about having worlds collide. Say your dating service matches you with a blogger you are aware of. Hell, you have even seen this blogger in person, but have never actually met. You know who she is though. You think she is funny, articulate, intelligent, kind, and fun. You even think she is cute.

So, when you get matched, you smile a bit. It came out of left field, but you are generally pleased that it happened. So, you send her a message, to try to strike up a conversation. This person doesn't know you read their blog, and doesn't know you know who she is (or at least, you know a little bit about her already), because you keep your blog extremely anonymous. She does follow your blog though, so you hope she responds, but are also aware that she is probably a hot commodity, and gets pummeled with messages everyday.

And then, very shortly after you send her a note, she responds.

By closing you out and removing you from her matches. And it isn't the shutting you down that hurts, but its how fast it was done. Like ten minutes fast.

And you feel a little worthless. You wonder how someone could make such a snap judgment about you to deem you so unworthy. You wonder what it was on your dating profile that turned them off. And then you wonder if your pictures make you look ugly. You wonder if you are ugly. And you feel ugly. And unwanted. And you wonder if you are ever going to be with someone whom to you, is beautiful.

And then you wonder if in a year from now, you are going to be reading her blog, and if in a year from now, she is still going to be single. And then you laugh, albeit not much. And you laugh about her writing how all the good ones are taken.

Lady, I'm fucking awesome. You should have opened your eyes.


Dear Diary,

I have nothing to say at the moment. If you want to know something in particular, ask, otherwise, I will be back when I have something to say.



Sunday, October 2, 2011

You Must Be Kidding....

Dear Diary,

There is a little known thing that us bloggers use, and it something that we use for our own protection/amusement. What I am talking about is a code that allows us to keep track of our blog statistics, for instance, to see how many particular page hits we receive during a day, week, or month. If something is really profound (and let's be honest, not much is these days in my neck of the woods), we can see how many people read us that day, and what directed them to us.

So, wouldn't you know that I went to check said service to see what was going on, and holy mother of a goat fucker, some of the shit I saw blew my mind.

Let's just say that when someone in Libya, as well as Pakistan, did a web search for fucking fat babies, and they were directed to the post where I complained about being sick.

Someone else searched for mouth fucking, and low and behold, they were directed to my site when I wrote about my dental issues, and they were from TN. Shocking right? Maybe the person was a hillbilly sheep fucker.

Then there was the person in Sri Lanka who wanted to search for divorced guys fucking neighbors, and well, since the title of my blog has "divorced guy" in it, guess where they wind up.

Fat fucking? Yup, guess where they end up. Big heavy men fucking? Guess where in the great and wonderful interwebs they land. Fat man screwing babies? Big fat fucking? Mythical creatures fucking? Wouldn't you know that someone thought it would be funny to direct them to little ole' me.

So, if I guess if I write sheep fucking goat sucking fat whore cum slut anal whore sub fucking gaping facial tranny sucker that should really drive up my traffic, right?

Sweet baby Jesus. The interwebs. Gotta love it.

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

A Tale Of Two Women

Dear Diary:

One girl is talkative, yet at the same time doesn't say much. She is kind, caring, and somewhat overbearing. She is sensual, and is not afraid to tell you. She worries a lot, about things she cannot control. She is clingy. She is not afraid to communicate. We have gone out a few times.

One girl is talkative, and substantive, yet stand-offish. She is younger, opinionated, vibrant, yet shy. She is somewhat aloof. She has an infectious laugh, and a beautiful smile. The difference in age doesn't seem like a hurdle. We have gone out twice.

One won't seem to leave me the fuck alone, and I it's like I should feel guilty for taking time out to take a shit. The other won't return a call.

Guess which one is which, and guess which one I would like to see more of?

But don't get me wrong, it's still fun.

Sunday, September 18, 2011

Dating, 2.0

Dear Diary:

Forgive me Diary for I have sinned. It has been over two weeks since my last entry.

In those two weeks, I have managed to work my tail off, deal with some family shit, and have gone out with a couple of different women. But before I start writing about any one person on here, let me just give you my thoughts, albeit somewhat borrowed, on the whole online dating realm.

Ladies, you are at a disadvantage. Fellas, you are at a disadvantage as well.

Probably the single biggest flaw in online dating is the number of matches, connects, whatever you want to call it. For people, and yes I include myself in this (not to brag by the way, it just so happens to work out this way) who receive a fairly decent amount of matches per day, focusing is difficult.

What do I mean by that?

Say you go out with one person, and the date was pretty good. He/She was attractive to you, and you both had fun, and it was comfortable and in no way weird. Say you want to see him/her again, and the feeling is mutual.

Then say you get home and check your email and someone just as attractive, or even more attractive, is matched with you. What do you do? You do what most people do. You try to start a conversation (don't lie to yourself and say you don't).

And you lose focus on the person you just went out with.

Now, that is not to say that keeping focus and zeroing in like a laser is a good thing always, because sometimes it can come across like you are a fucking whack job stalker, but if you are reading this and nodding your head, then you kinda sorta know what I am talking about.

But, you are getting hit with requests to converse left and right, and you don't want to have to choose. You want to keep your options open. But say maybe the person who you went out with doesn't have as many requests to converse as you? Maybe they are a little more focused than you are.

Maybe they are not wondering that while they had a great date that maybe tomorrow, tomorrow they will be connected to someone who may be "The One." Maybe for them, you are "The One." Or maybe not, but they are more interested in finding out if you are, as opposed to finding out if "The One" is around the corner waiting to be found.

And this is why I think that online dating, while beneficial, particularly in a large city where ironically enough it is hard to meet people, can be a royal pain in the ass.

Some days you get a lot of matches, and some days you don't. On the days you do you get a bit excited about the sheer number of possibilities while at the same time losing focus on the possibility of something with the person you have already met.

So what is the answer? Is it to stop being so greedy (if that is the appropriate word) and actually take the time to get to know someone? But what if the person whom you really should be with is right around the bend? I guess the answer is different for everyone, and also depends on where someone is at in their life and what they ultimately want.

Personally, I want to slow it down a bit. Because no matter how good someone looks online, there is nothing like making her smile.

Saturday, September 3, 2011

Well No Shit, Tell Me Something I Don't Know

Dear Diary:

Apparently, according to a "new" "study", the DMV is home to the nation's worst drivers.

Why thank you Captain Obvious. Care to tell me something I don't already know?

I have been saying for, well, about a decade now that the DMV has the worst fucking drivers on the planet. And now we apparently require a study to tell us something that I have been saying for 10 years.

Why not just pay me to put to paper what everyone in the area already knows? I will take the check. Trust me. I do not mind taking your money whatsoever.

I am not sure if I have said this before or not, but I think the reason we have the worst drivers is that for the most part, everyone here is from somewhere else. So basically you have driving habits from all over the country, hell, the world really, converging in one relatively small area. That, and people here are pretty much assholes when they are behind the wheel.

Want to merge safely into traffic? Need to move over a lane? Are people going to let you in? Fuck no they aren't, because they think that they are so important that they need to be in front of you. Even though every car is driving at about 10 mph, Joe Fuckstick needs to be the one in front of you going 10mph.

Fuck that douchebag. With a baseball bat. Wrapped in barbed wire, doused in rubbing alcohol, and set on fire. Fuck him right in his uber-tight asshole. Fucking dick.

And don't even get me started on divers who go the speed limit in the passing lane (namely, everyone with a VA plate on their vehicle, shitballs). I shake my fist at you. Or my middle finger. Or rather I get on a bullhorn in front of your house while your annoying brat kids (yes, the ones that were causing you to turn in the car and slap them while you were driving) are sleeping, and I let the world know how much of a fucking royal asshat you are for cutting me off and then slowing down because your demon spawn don't know how to shut the fuck up. At 3am. Fucking douche.

Of course we have the worst drivers in this area. No fucking shit.

Now can we go back to focusing on what is important, like finding the cure for cancer, homelessness, and finding a beautiful woman that will put up with me? Stop telling me shit I already know.

Thank you, that is all.

Friday, August 26, 2011

Jumping Back In

Dear Diary:

So, um, yeah, I think I joined a dating site.  I mean, I remember paying for a subscription.  So yeah, I guess I did.  Back into the old swing of things I guess.

"But you don't sound so enthused about it!"  That's probably what you are thinking.

Well, I am writing write now on pain killers and drinking vodka (don't lecture me), so I am not that emotional at the moment.

What I can say is the following:

-I am looking forward to dating again.  I enjoy it.  And let's face it, I am not getting any younger.

-Rather than sign up for a long ass period of time, I just did something short and manageable, so that I can get out of it if I so choose after a reasonable amount of time.

-The summer is ending, and fall is approaching.  What else is there really to do in this fucking city during the fall and winter other than date?  It is like they are the two seasons custom built for dating.

-I am going to be someone of an unyielding prick insofar as I am not going to let dating dictate my life, my mood, or my schedule.  I did that before, and it was hazardous to my health.  Rather than build a schedule around dating, I am going to build dates into my schedule.  It sounds similar, but it isn't, and there really is a huge difference.

So I know what you are thinking ladies (and yes, I am well aware that the vast majority of my readership has a vagina), and let me stop you before you think I am a prick.  Would you rather me continue to be who I am and let you get to know me, or would you rather me be who you want me to be?  Would you rather me fit snugly into your little box (mind, exit gutter stage left!) or would you rather see if we can build a new one on our own?  I will make time for you, but I will not put everything on hold for you, at least not at this time.

It's not that I do not want to be accommodating in certain respects, but I really do want to be able to stop worrying about whether or not I am going to be liked for who I am. 

So, I hope you will indulge me while I try this whole dating game again, and with a bit of a twist.

And well, if you think I am an egotistical jerk who needs to me more flexible, well, I was flexible already.

This time, I am calling more of the shots.  It's my life, and it's my heart.

But like I said, pain killers and vodka.  This may all be making sense in my head right now, and tomorrow, I may look at it and feel like a fucking asshole.  But, not to self, I will not delete it.

Thursday, August 25, 2011

I See You

Dear Diary:

This afternoon I had the pleasure of getting my other two wisdom teeth removed, with just local anesthesia I might add (cause I'm a muthafuckin' badass ), and then had the even greater pleasure of sitting in traffic for about 90 minutes while I drove home. So, you are going to have to forgive me if I am not in a mood to expound upon life's great questions and philosophize and the important things in the world, like beer, boobs, and dick and fart jokes.

So until this whole thing wears off....

I'll be watching

Ok, maybe that sounds a little creepy, but I blame Vicodin.

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

I Have To Write About The Earthquake Because Everyone Else On The East Coast Is And I Want To Fit In

Dear Diary:

I survived Snowmadeggon. And now I can say I survived an earthquake.

When the earthquake happened, I was standing at a urinal. Do you have any idea how unnerving it is to have the ground shake beneath your feet the second you grab your dick? No? It's weird. I can tell you that. Also slightly amusing.

The other thing that is weird and also slightly amusing is some of the bullshit that some right wing Bible thumping nutbags are saying. I will paraphrase just some of the bullshit that is coming across the interwebs.

"Earthquake happened cause of gay marriage and God hates us"

"God hates Obama and the Democrats and gave us an earthquake"

"God hates government and sent an earthquake to shake up the system"

Blah blah blah.

You know what you never see though? You never see those same people say God shipped their jobs overseas while the corporations that shitcanned them are making record profits. You never see them say that God has kept them unemployed or underemployed. You never see them say God is the reason why almost 50% of heterosexual marriages end in divorce either.

God did not make the East Coast shake. It's geology stupid. Read a book.

Now bring on the hurricane!

Sunday, August 21, 2011

You Asked, I Answered, Part 10

Dear Diary:

Q: what's the most entertaining thing you've done in the past month?

A: Nothing. Nothing at all.

My life is pretty mundane and routine. I wake up. I go to the gym. I come home and make breakfast. I go to work. I go to the gym. I come home and have a protein shake*.

I go to sleep. I wake up.....

You get my point.

Now, there are a few things on the horizon that I can tell you about, and some that I cannot tell you about. The things I cannot tell you about have to do with something that I do not want to give away just yet, but let's say that if it works out, then I am going to be happier than a sailor at at hooker convention.

As far as the things that I can tell you about, well, let's see. I am going to see Foo Fighters when they come to town in November, and have pretty damn good seats. BB is coming to visit sometime in the fall and since I haven't seen her in well over a year, I am really looking forward to it. I am getting my last two wisdom teeth pulled, so Vicodin induced constipation is sure to follow.

That is one side affect they never tell you about. Some people are like, "woohoo, painkillers!!!" Not this guy. I just wish the those prescribing them would be honest. Maybe say something like, "Now take 1-2 of these every four hours, or when you feel pain. And by the way, you may want to buy some laxatives, otherwise your asshole will feel like someone is driving a Mac truck out of it at 85 miles per hour. But the Vicodin should help with that pain too."

But the last month or so? Nope, nada.

*Protein Shake:

Nectar Fuzzy Naval flavored Whey Protein Isolate
1/2 cup non-fat plain Greek yogurt
1/2 cup water
1/2 cup frozen mangoes

Put it in a blender, and well, blend. And enjoy. That is the basic recipe. You can mix it up some.

Friday, August 19, 2011

You Asked, I Answered, Part 9

Dear Diary:

Q:What's one of your favorite memories? (could be anything)

I'm interested in this guy who is going through everything you went through- near identical story. Is it worth sticking around to see if it could work between us after the papers are officially signed? Or am I just wasting time? I don't think he's ready to date, but I know he will be amazing when he *is* ready. Thoughts?

What do guys really look for in a girl?

What's annoying you the most right now?

A: Well I guess this entry is going to be pretty fucking long then, right?

And we're off!

What's one of your favorite memories? (could be anything)

As far as memories go, I will give you two. First would be waking up early at my grandparents' (mom's side) house early in the morning and finding my grandfather making honey roasted peanuts in a skillet. He was a remarkable human being really, and even as a kid, I loved having time with him all to myself. He would make me breakfast, sometimes canned asparagus on toast, and then we would go swimming in the pool in the backyard. Other times he would take my brother and I fishing. He died in 1986, and there are still times when I wish I could just talk to him.

Second one would be playing cards with my grandmother (dad's side). She had this laugh which was more of a giggle but it was priceless. When we would go over to her house, she would basically empty the fridge onto her kitchen table, and we would pick at stuff all day. She died when I was in college, and I think it is a good thing that she didn't see me go through a divorce because it would have broken he heart.

I'm interested in this guy who is going through everything you went through- near identical story. Is it worth sticking around to see if it could work between us after the papers are officially signed? Or am I just wasting time? I don't think he's ready to date, but I know he will be amazing when he *is* ready. Thoughts?

I don't know what to say other than the guy he is now will be different than the guy he becomes as the divorce progresses. Also, you don't know when the emotional scars will be healed sufficiently enough, so you don't know when he is READY to date. The question you should ask yourself is do you want to wait it out, knowing that you don't know when he will be ready. Sorry, but I cannot answer this for you, but I can be thankful women like you exist, and by that I mean women who recognize divorce does not mean damaged.

What do guys really look for in a girl?

I know what I look for in a girl, but I do not know what other guys look for. There really is no one set of criteria. Personally speaking, I like intelligence, curiosity, compassion, humility, honesty and a laid back attitude where she is as comfortable in a black dress as she is in jeans and a t-shirt. Sense of humor is also on the list. Nice legs and a cute ass wouldn't hurt either. But if she has eyes that I could get lost in, then all bets are off.

What's annoying you the most right now?

That I have to wait until next year for another season of Mad Men. I finished the first 4 seasons on Netflix in like a week. The show is that addicting. Well, that and my diet, which I haven't fine tuned enough.

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

You Asked, I Answered, Part 8

Dear Diary:

Q: How big's your...nevermind. ;)

(Being tacky, as ususal.)

A: And now for the answer that you have all been waiting for!!! (well, if you are a woman, or hell, a guy, nothing wrong with that)

My dick. How big is it? Well, let's see. It's really impossible to measure unless you are using an electron microscope. Seriously. I'm hung like a gerbil.

You can stop drooling now and thinking of me as some hung sex god.

Ha, sorry I killed your dreams.

But seriously.....

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

You Asked, I Answered, Part 7

Dear Diary:

Q: I think marriage is great for those who believe in it, but do you think it is more than a ring and a dress? I think I can have a meaningful relationship and totally plan to spend the rest of my life with my guy, but without the ceremony. Thoughts?

A: Yes, it is more than a ring and a dress, or in my case, it is more than a ring and a suit or tuxedo.

First, I would suggest that you are equating marriage with just the ceremony. And while the ceremony an subsequent booze filled reception with one crazy family member making an ass out of his or her self and the random bridesmaid that gets her face painted in the bathroom while the cake is being passed around is definitely enjoyable, marriage is much more than the ceremony.

For instance, one can either have a ceremony or not. You can do the whole big wedding that costs upwards of $35,000, or you can elope, or you can just go down to the courthouse and get it done in less than an hour and go home and eat a bucket of chicken. But the ceremony, to me really, is about sharing and celebrating your love for your significant other and making a commitment to each other in front of the people you care about the most (well, except for your colleagues that you feel obligated to invite and you just hope they give you cash and don't cause damage where you lose your security deposit).

My ceremony was on a beach, with about 15 people in attendance, with a dinner for all of us following the taking of pictures. Then we all went to a bar. It was simple, yet it was perfect. My actual wedding, including honeymoon, cost me less than my divorce, so a wedding isn't about how much you spend, but who you spend it with. And honestly, to date, I have never felt such simple and pure joy than I did on that day.

As far as the ring, you do not know how much it means to you until you have to take it off. A ring is circular, and therefore infinite. It is a simple symbol for eternity. And to me, my ring wasn't just a ring.

Now, as far as actually being married as opposed to being in a committed relationship, well, marriage is just different, and it is better. It's hard to explain why it is better, because it is different for each individual couple, but it is just better. And you don't know that it is better until you say, "I do." Now I am just making a generalization. Obviously some marriages are complete shit shows, but that has more to do with the individual couple.

I would say the advantage of not being married is that when it ends, the pain can be quick and it can be over quickly. Divorce can drag on and extend the pain, which for me, makes divorce much worse than just breaking up with someone. Divorce can turn into an endurance test of will. And for some, it can take longer than you expect for you to be able to get over it.

Not that I would know anything about that though...

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

You Asked, I Answered, Part 6

Dear Diary:

Q: Do you have ANY desire to marry again?

A: Yes.

Ok. Now I know that I can't just leave you hanging with a one word answer, but there is really no simpler way to put it. I do in fact have a desire to marry again.

The larger question is, "Who?"

I want to marry someone who gets me. I want to marry someone who knows that even though I am quiet by nature, it doesn't mean I am uninterested. But most importantly, I want to marry someone who doesn't hold a double standard.

For instance. My ex-wife used to go visit her college friends, and when she did, money was not an issue. I was fine with he traveling since I knew how important those people were to her. She only had to pay for a plane ticket and meals and entertainment, and would go a couple times a year.

However, when i wanted to visit my best friend for his college graduation, knowing that he was married with two children living in a small place and barely getting by, the fact that not only would I be paying for airfare, but hotel and rental car as well, became a financial issue.

Homie don't play dat.

So, I want to marry someone who gives me as much freedom as I do her. I want to marry someone who looks at me and is as proud of me as I am of her.

Short answer is still yes. Longer answer is that I just have not met he yet. But I hope she looks good in jeans and a t-shirt.

Friday, August 5, 2011

You Asked, I Answered, Part 5

Dear Diary:

Q:Do you want to stay in DC? What are your favorite/least favorite parts about living here?


What? Are you fucking kidding me? Hell no I do not want to stay in this rat infested city. And I am not talking about rodents.

I mean, would you want to live in a city without it's own signature sandwich? Me either.

But more seriously, I do not want to stay in a city that does not afford me an equal voice in our government. I do not want to stay in a city that thinks it has to elect a mayor because he is "black enough" even though he is fucking incompetent. And I do not want to stay in a city that settles for mediocrity because it doesn't want to fucking get shit done.

Now, staying in the area is a much different question, as I generally like the DMV. It has made me quite a bit of money, and I have really good friends here. I can see myself living in NOVA, or even MD, but for the long haul, I will not live in DC. Fuck that shit.

Now, I own a house that I can rent for the mortgage, so I never have to sell it if I do not want to. And I have a decent amount of equity in it, so I do have options if I want to get the fuck out of here.

As for my favorite things about the city, there really is only one thing, and that is the way the city is comprised of various different neighborhoods each with their own distinct feel. Unfortunately, the neighborhood I live in has been infested with hipsters, and it takes every ounce of energy not to push half those fuckers in front of a moving bus.

As far as the thing I like least about this city, that is simple. It's DC itself. Some think it is a black city. It isn't a black city. It isn't a white city. This is the capital of the free world. It has no ethnicity. And people who live here shouldn't pick leaders who evoke a certain cultural, shit, what is the word, ethos (?) just so they think they "get them." Fuck that.

Take Mayor Gray for instance. Why did he win? Because he was "blacker" than Mayor Fenty? Look what that got us. Nothing getting done except people getting investigated, and one scandal after another. I would much rather have people who are willing to piss people off and get shit done than pander and get nothing done, and that is not a racial thing. I just want shit to get done. Otherwise, give me my property taxes back. Unfortunately, the history of the so called leaders of this city doing nothing but serving their own self interest has done nothing but breed a culture of mediocrity in this town. Fuck that.

This is the capital of the United States of America. This is the capital of the free world. People need to actually take some pride in this town and start acting like it.

(And I am on my second beer since of the day, and it about 12:30. It's going to be a long day.)

Saturday, July 23, 2011

You Asked, I Answered, Part 4

Dear Diary:

Q: What is your biggest pet peeve? What is your most embarrassing moment? What is the most random fact about you?

A: A three part question!!!

Anyway, my biggest pet peeve is when someone disregards another person's time. For instance, I do not like waiting around forever when someone says, "I'll meet you at (insert random time here)."

I do not mind when plans have to be canceled. Hell, I do it, but I always give notice. If I am running late (which is easy to do when you get stuck in traffic around here) I always call, E-mail, or text. I wish some people would have the same courtesy to tell you the truth.

My most embarrassing moment is.....putting a knife through my hand and all the bullshit that happened as a result. I mean, do you have any fucking idea how hard it is to even shower one handed? Thankfully, on occasion, I had someone to help (she was, and still is, a sweetheart, not to mention had a rock hard body).

The most random fact about me? Maybe the fact that I probably own more kitchen stuff than any other heterosexual man on the planet that is not a professional chef? Hell, I don't know.

Sunday, July 17, 2011

You Asked, I Answered, Part 3

Dear Diary:

Q: Where would you recommend someone to go on vacation that you have been and why? If you could go anywhere you haven't already been and cost wasn't a factor, where would you go?

A: I guess it really depends on whether or not you are vacationing alone, or with someone. Also, it depends on what type of person you are and what you enjoy.

If you are a foodie, then I would recommend going to Seattle. I went to Seattle a few years ago. And even though it was pretty much raining the entire time I was there, I really enjoyed it. Walking around Pike Place Market was a lot of fun, and there are great little places to grab a bite to eat. While I was there, I actually tried sushi for the first time, and my love for it was born. I figured if I was going to try it, I might as well try it there. It was a great decision.

I also had dinner at Etta's, a Tom Douglas restaurant, can can easily say that I had one of the top 3 meals I have ever had in my entire life there. I had salmon, and it was absofuckinglutely amazing.

The City is also very walkable, which is a bonus if you are traveling alone.

If you are going with someone, I would say go to Key West. Key West is a lot of fun, and the fact you can walk around with a cold beer in your hand is well, pretty fucking sweet if you ask me. And the city itself is beautiful, with a lot of old homes and historical places to see. Not to mention, the weather is pretty damn near perfect.

I want to go back there at some point, but with other people, so that I can really enjoy the laid back atmosphere and do some deep sea and sport fishing.

Now, if cost were not a factor, and I could go anywhere, I would go to Greece. No question about it. I figure I would spend a couple days in Athens, exploring the ruins and stuff like that, and then take a cruise around the islands, with the final destination being Santorini, where I would spend a few days, renting a villa with a private pool, on the cliffs.

If I would do it right, it would cost a fortune, but it is one thing I am promising myself to do before I die.

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

You Asked, I Answered, Part 2

Dear Diary:

Q: What is the scariest thing that's ever happened to you? What's a weird nickname somebody's given you and why?

A: Since this is a two part question, let me go ahead and answer the second one first, since the answer to the second question is shorter than the answer to the first.

Anyway, no one really has given me a weird nickname. There have been variations of my first name, as well as nicknames that evoke a sense of where I grew up. However, if I were to tell you what some of them were, then I would leave a clue as to my real identity. And for reasons that I mine and mine alone, I am very protective of that in this particular space. So those that know me know me, and those that do not, can choose to.

Now, as for the scariest thing that has ever happened to me, that one is easy. It was when a woman I loved at one point in m life told me that she wasn't in love with me anymore and told me she wanted a divorce. I have never felt so alone, lost, and confused in my life, and hope to never feel that way again. I just did not understand it, and for me, someone who's life revolves around his ability to have a firm grasp on situations and be able to understand things quickly, I was scared shitless.

Sorry if you were hoping for something dangerous.

Friday, July 8, 2011

You Asked, I Answered, Part 1

Dear Diary:

For starters, this will be the first of a series where I answer the questions you have asked me. If you have more questions, feel free to email me directly. My contact info is located here. And here we go!

Q: I want to know how you cope with it, because my life is equally boring and I can barely deal with it any more.

A: Coping is a relative term. I prefer to call it living.

Now, living is also a relative term, aside from the whole biologically viable part, such as having a beating heart. But I know that isn't what you meant.

Now, there are those who consider living to be chock full of excitement. You can agree with that or disagree with that, but in all honesty, there is no set definition of what it means to be living, other than the whole heart beating thing.

For me, I like to accomplish things. I like to see things get done. I like the fact that I am having my house painted. I like the fact that I can go out and hang out with friends. I like working on my garden. Some may think that is boring, but to them, I say, "I really do not give a fuck what you think, it's my life."

I do what I want, when i want to do it. If I want to do laundry on a Friday night so that I can bank money and then do something extravagant later, that is my decision. And I think that is what it really boils down to. Making a decision and being content with it.

To me, the whole concept of "coping" means that I am substituting an artificial "something" and not being true to myself. Some people choose alcohol, drugs, adrenaline, etc., etc. There was a stage after my divorce when I was coping, but I am not coping anymore.

Now, I just make a decision that I am content with, and live with whichever outcome happens.

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Hitting The Wall

Dear Diary,

My life is so boring, I have no idea what to write about these days. So, ask me something. I will answer anything (well, for the most part).

What do you want to know?

Sunday, June 26, 2011

Here's The Thing

Dear Diary:

Here is a little more thorough explanation of my general mood at the moment.

I am not mad at my ex for getting married again. Far from it. I don't wish her happiness because frankly, I just do not care. I am completely indifferent towards her, her life, who she knows, who she sleeps with, etc, etc, etc.

I guess what bothers me are the reminders that I am not where I want to be, personally. I don't like being reminded that my marriage imploded, then exploded, then ended up on the scrap heap. I have those thoughts on my own. I do not need to hear news about her, nor see her, nor see one of her friends who was a bridesmaid in my wedding to remind me of that.

My roommate was in my wedding. My brother was in my wedding. So was my neighbor, who has been a friend since we were in high school. I have my own reminders, and while they still sting every now and again, the pain lessens and lessens with each passing day and the stings come more and more infrequently.

What annoys me is that I am reminded once again, but through news of her, or seeing someone that works with her (which happens often because we are in the same field). I do not know what stories she may have told them, and frankly I do not care. But seriously, this city is big enough so that I do not have to run into you, right?

And I am not sad. I am just honestly pissed off that I had to be reminded of her through news of her, and yes, seeing her and that bridesmaid (who, truth be told, had her face painted by my roommate the night of my wedding, and he wasn't using Sherwin Williams if you catch my drift).

I have gone to great lengths to keep her far away from me. I have not gone to certain restaurants alone, nor have I ventured into certain parts of the city. I also tend to stay in my area of town since it is convenient and let's be honest, the H Street/Atlas district is pretty fucking awesome. I have also kept people who work with both of us at a great distance. When it comes to them, I am strictly business.

Life goes on. Mine certainly has and it will continue to do so. Hell, in a ton of respects, my life is pretty fucking great. I have a great family, kick ass friends, a nice home, a nice new SUV, and financial stability. Not to mention I managed to grow tomatoes in the shitty ass DC soil (ok, it isn't even soil, its clay, with rocks, brick, and old glass bottles). Seriously, the plants are like 3 feet high now, and I think I am going to have enough tomatoes to feed Italy. Salad or pasta anyone?

And I make my own rules. Now if anyone (preferably a nice blond lady with killer legs and eyes that make you whimper) would care to join me, feel free. Just remember...

STRAP ON YOUR SEAT BELTS!!! It is going to be one hell of a ride.

There, NOW I'm back.



Saturday, June 25, 2011


Dear Diary:

She got married.


Thursday, June 23, 2011

20 Years In The Making

Dear Diary:

There are some bands that one just gets. Their music somehow just resonates. Whether it is the lyrics, or the music itself, it just clicks.

20 years ago, I really got into U2. I have pretty much all of their stuff. In fact, I think I do have all of their stuff, from Boy to No Line On The Horizon. I think Achtung Baby is amazing, Rattle and Hum a work of genius, and The Joshua Tree very well may be one of the single greatest albums of all time.

And last night, after 20 years of waiting, since basically the Zoo TV tour, I finally saw them live, in Baltimore.

This was also the first stadium show I have ever been to, and it was worth the wait. You could literally feel the music in your seat, not that I was sitting down much.

The seats were great, and I am fortunate to have a friend who took me for my birthday.

The stage was unbelievable, and honestly, I don't even want to imagine how much it cost to put on the show.

But it was....

simply amazing and....

worth the trip, and the sweltering heat (I swear I sweated out like 5 lbs)

And fortunately, I have some pictures to always remember it, as well as a great memory, shared with a close friend whom I have known half my life.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

WTF Kind of Karma Is This?

Dear Diary:

I saw my ex last week.

I saw one of the women who was a bridesmaid in my wedding today.

She lives 1000 fucking miles away, but was in town for a work related event that I just happened to be at.


No, I mean, fucking really?

Give me a fucking break.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

And Then It Happened...

Dear Diary:

I have been going on, living my life, working crazy hours, and trying to enjoy my downtime as much as possible.

One part of my job entails going to receptions. A lot of receptions. These are generally decent events, with free flowing alcohol and decent food, but no one really eats at these things. Eating will take up room in one's stomach that is reserved for the open bar. And we all know how important an open bar is, don't we?

Well, there was an event tonight that I had to go to in the building located right next door to the office my ex-wife works in. And for some reason, I knew I would see her.

And I did.

It was only a glance, but I walked right past her. Her coworkers looked back in my direction, like they had almost seen a ghost. I kept my head looking straight ahead and didn't pay attention to it for the most part.

This was the first time I had seen her in over 2 years. It was the first time I heard her laughing in almost 3.

And that is what pissed me off.

I wasn't ready to hear that laugh. I wasn't ready because I put on a decent amount of weight recovery from surgery and it is taking me forever to drop it, so I looked like hell.

I didn't want that.

I think when people see their respective ex's, they want to somehow have the upper hand, whether it is seeing them while you are with someone new, and someone better, or seeing them and feeling better, and looking better.

I was with my boss. And while I have put on a considerable amount of muscle, particularly in my upper body, I still have a gut, and it is noticeable, although I dress well.

But did I feel sad? Did I feel a sense of loss? No, I didn't. I just felt weird. And even though I had a feeling I could very well see her tonight, part of me still thought that the city was big enough to not to ever have to see her again.

And that laugh? It made me cringe. It just seemed so fucking fake. I hate fake.

No, really, I do.

Thursday, June 9, 2011

On Friends and Finances

Dear Diary:

My dad used to warn me to never get into business with friends and family. It seems a little harsh, but in reality, it always seems to play out that if you get into business with friends and family, you will somehow get the shaft.

The thing is, I do not mind being generous with money. I don't mind picking up a check. I don't even mind picking up a hotel room. I don't mind buying groceries either.

What I do mind is when people take advantage of said generosity. I do mind when people say they will pitch in and don't. What I do mind is when I buy groceries, say like frozen chicken, and people take it out, and don't fucking cook it and it goes bad.


If I am going to be generous with it, I am going to do it on my terms. You do not get to decide to change your mind when you say you will pitch in and then when its brought up all of a sudden disappear and give excuses. I....FUCKING....HATE....THAT.

If you say you are going to do something, then FUCKING DO IT. Keep your word, especially when it comes to money. People work hard for it. I work hard for mine, which means I get to do with it what I so choose. If I want to be generous, then I will be, but for the love of all that is good and holy, do two things for me, would you please?

Don't take advantage of my generosity, and KEEP YOUR FUCKING WORD.

Monday, June 6, 2011

Women Aren't The Only Ones

Dear Diary,

Men have body issues too. There I said it.

Ok, so I am overweight. Not morbidly obese overweight. Not taking an elevator up one flight of stairs because my fat ass can't be bothered with the physical exertion overweight. But, I have love handles, and then some.

But I also have a significant amount of muscle. I can feel it under the excess body mass. So, I have some padding, but I also know what lies beneath. If I were to flex my arms, the odds of one being able to wrap both hands around them are slim, well, unless your hands are the size of catcher's mits, then well, maybe, just maybe.

But, none of this is good enough really. The excess weight takes my confidence, puts it in a blender, then tosses gasoline on it, lights it on fire, and puts it out with a big pile of shit.

So you will have to forgive me if I want to ram a hot piece of metal through my nostril up into my brain when I hear women bitch about body image issue. The whole, "These jeans make my ass look huge! I want to die" type shit annoys the ever living crap out of me. YOU AREN'T THE ONLY ONES WHO DEAL WITH THIS SHIT. Guys do, we just don't talk about it so much.

Sure, women can blame the media and Hollywood for portraying an unrealistic ideal of what is beautiful. That is a fact, and it doesn't help that people get reality TV shows and are made to be celebrities just for the fact they fit into some made-up social construct of what is beautiful, when in reality they have zero talent, and the best part of them dribbled down the crack of their mother's ass.

(For the record, I really love that last line, and I hope it isn't copyrighted)

But there is an unrealistic portrayal of what is means to be an attractive male in today's world as well. Not all of us, and in fact most of us, do not have bodies that look like they were chiseled by Michelangelo. We are all not 6'4, muscular, with little or no body hair, tan, with blue eyes. But, society has deemed that features such as those are what is desirable. So, guys like me look at that, and hear women swoon over that, and well, think, fuck, I am going to be alone, forever. I am ugly. No one will ever be attracted to me because I am chubby. And no woman will even want to talk to me because she wouldn't even give me a second glance.

So we retreat. We retreat into silence. We walk around and see happy couples, walking hand in hand. We see them at night, kissing on the corner as we walk home, alone. And we go home, and look in the mirror, and hate the reflection. And we become fixated on it, and hate it even more.

So no, women aren't the only ones who have body image issues. Guys just don't talk about it much.

Until now I guess.

Thursday, May 26, 2011

We All Do It

Dear Diary:

We all do it.

All of us who use this form of expression do it.

We wonder.

We wonder who the hell is bored enough to read our stories. We wonder if we are entertaining. We wonder if they get us. We wonder if they want us. We wonder if behind a screen in some far off land, there is someone who is nodding their head as they read our words.

We all do it. Don't deny it. If you are thinking, "nope, not me" then you are a fucking liar. It's like a guy that says he doesn't jerk off. Bold face liar.

We wonder about where they are from. We wonder if they have lives like us. If they do things we do. We wonder what they look like, and wonder if they would be fun to actually talk to. We wonder if they like to drink. What they like to eat. Where they eat. We wonder if they have a 9 to 5 job. We wonder if they hate their job as much as we hate ours.

We wonder if those special ones have found us. The ones that we have written about that we tried to keep anonymous. We wonder if somehow they stumbled upon us. We wonder if they were shocked, or if they were angry, but mostly we wonder if they understood. We wonder if they will reach out to see how we are doing.

And for some of those special ones, we wonder if they wonder about us too.

Sunday, May 15, 2011


Dear Diary:

So I got a phone call that a member of the family had passed away Friday night after finally succumbing to leukemia.

You are probably thinking I am heartbroken over this. Sorry, I am not.

Let me give you a little background on mi familia.

My dad is one of four kids. When I say that everyone in my family has been divorced, I am referring to his side of the family. This is the side of the family I share my name with. This is the side of the family that I am closest too. This is the side of the family that I really grew up with, that is, when we were actually around each other because my parents decided to be the ones to move away from their hometown. Everyone else stayed within a few hours driving distance.

My mom is an only child. Her dad, the only grandfather I ever knew (he was a the coolest guy on the planet and I still miss him every now and then, even though he has been dead about 20 years), was also an only child. Her mother however was one of eight. Of those eight, each had about three kids. And each of the kids had about three kids, and I am like the fourth oldest of this generation (the great-grandchildren). So my mom has a huge family. I lost count once the great-grandchildren started popping out babies.

Other than my grandparents, and maybe a dozen or so of this gigantic brood, I never really saw many of them. And I am not close to them, other than a few, and close is a relative term at this point. I cannot tell you even the last time I had a conversation with one of them. They do not call, and neither do I. I couldn't pick half of them out of a line-up if you paid me.

So when I get a phone call that a great-aunt, whom I have seen maybe twenty times over the course of my life, has passed away, I don't really have a sad reaction. I am sympathetic, but other than that, I really do not even know how I am supposed to react to such news. I can offer my condolences, but other than that, what am I supposed to do?

I think my mom was expecting me to have some sort of bigger sense of loss, but I really do not. How can you feel a sense of loss towards something that you barely knew? This woman's death does not, and would not, affect me to the extent that losing someone on my dad's side of the family would.

So, I will now basically just go through the motions, and do what is expected of me as a member of the family, but other than that, I am not doing much. And I don't know if that is fucked up or not at this point.

Friday, May 6, 2011

You Asked...(Well At Least One Of You Had the Balls To)

Dear Diary:

When was the first moment in the aftermath when you thought about the past without a huge jolt of emotion? The first time the ex-marriage was a part of your history instead of a trauma?

I have been waiting for a while to figure out how best to answer this, because well it is not easy to answer. Not at all really. In fact, it is pretty fucking complicated if you ask me.

I can tell you that the first moment in the aftermath of my divorce that I thought about the past as nothing more than the past, without a huge jolt of emotion, was the day I sold my wedding ring. I think that is because of the fact that the moment was so surreal. Maybe like it almost wasn't happening? But it also brought some sense of closure and finality to the relationship, not just the ordeal of the divorce itself.

Now, I say that this is a complicated question to answer because the first moment that I looked back without a huge jolt of emotion did not signal some gigantic turning point where I no longer looked back on the end of my relationship without a jolt of emotion. Anyone who thinks they can out-wit, out-think, out-reason, emotion is well, delusional. Emotions are what they are, and they can, and will, completely fuck with you when you least expect it.

So, I do not measure any amount of progress in the emotional healing aspect of a post-divorce existence. There are good days. There are bad days. There are weird days. And then there are days that are just days. I think the larger goal is just to have more good days than bad days. And I would say that is the larger goal because most people, regardless of whether or not they are in a relationship want to have more good days than bad days. So, the goal in a way, is just to be, and feel, normal.

Now, there are speed bumps along the way that come up at times. For instance, while driving back from Key West, I took US-1, through Miami. At some point I was on the phone with my dad and took a right turn, which put me on US-1A. And wouldn't you know it?

The hotel I stayed at the weekend I got married was in my rear view mirror. I was in the town I got married in. I then couldn't get off 1A until I passed the beach where I said my vows. And you know what?

It wasn't "sad." It was just "eh, oh well, shit happens."

But then there are moments like today when I log onto Facebook and see someone say that today is their fifth anniversary (and if this person reads this, just know that I am happy for you). And it could have been mine too. So some reminders are nothing, and some sting, just a bit, if only for a few seconds.

But all in all, more good days than bad.

I think the hardest part is when you are stuck in some sort of limbo where you have trouble creating new memories to replace the old ones. Emotional purgatory can suck a dick.

Sunday, May 1, 2011

On The Road

Dear Diary:

I guess my fascination with Key West started in the early 90s after watching, well, Key West, which you probably do not recall was a short lived television series. But anyway, ever since seeing the show I always wanted to visit the place. I mean, it was like the tropics, except you could drive to it. And I liked the fact that it was old. And quaint. It is kind of like portions of Cape Cod, except when you go in the ocean you are guaranteed not to freeze your balls off.

So, I decided to take my first real vacation since well, I was married. Needless to say it has been a while.

The drive down was not bad at all. I made it past Daytona in one day, which was on purpose because I have always wanted to do the drive from Miami to Key West, and since well, I wanted to be able to enjoy the view, there is really no point in doing that drive at night. But I have to say the drive through the Keys was a bit of a let down. I guess I was expecting nothing but views of the ocean, but instead it was more driving through small towns and the like. Granted, there were parts that were really beautiful, but for the most part, it was not.

Key West itself was nice. The architecture of the homes was really impressive. For example:

And some of the views were rather amazing. Such as:


Not to mention...(some may get this, others may not)

But all in all, while I enjoyed the trip, I ran out of things to do after a day because it is not a place to really enjoy by yourself. I mean sure, I had fun, but I think it is more of a place to go with other people, or a significant other. But I guess I just have to learn to live with that feeling for a while.

Another thing I have to learn is to wear sunscreen. My head got fucking ROASTED.

Thursday, April 28, 2011

Blocked Up

Dear Diary:

If you want to know something, or want me to write about something, ask me a question. If you prefer, feel free to E-mail me the question.

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

In Defense Of Sensibly Boring

Dear Diary:

I was born on the East Coast. Even though I moved around a lot growing up, I have always maintained an East Coast mentality. And now living on the East Coast, I savor the fast pace of life in general. I rather enjoy the fact that time seems to move quickly, even though it is limited.

There are two types of people who live on the East Coast in my opinion. Those who relax from the face pace of life by increasing that pace to blow off steam, and those who spend their down time working on other projects.

I was having a conversation with a friend of mine the other day and we were talking about what each of us did this past weekend. Her weekend included multiple parties, sporting events, and the like. Mine included cleaning the house, cutting my grass, and getting a planter bed ready for the garden I intend on starting. And of course she said what I did wasn't fun.

Or was it?

To me, it was fun. I took great pride in being able to cut grass where none existed 6 months ago. I took great pride in being able to look at a lawn that was the result 15 bags of compost, a pickaxe, some seed, fertilizer, and patience. I mean why spend a couple thousand dollars on having a landscape company come out and do the work when I can do it myself for about $200? And to me, sweating my ass off outside while working on my lawn was completely relaxing. One may think that is boring, but not I. And find me someone who does not cherish the smell of fresh cut grass in a city and I will show you someone who is quite frankly a waste of space.

So, to some, maybe I am considered boring. To some others, I am considered sensible. So, let's go with sensibly boring.

And you know what? There is nothing wrong with that whatsoever. There is nothing wrong with not having an insatiable need to be everywhere, be seen by everyone, and mix and mingle and meet new people every single second of every single day. There is nothing wrong with getting some work done, even when you could be doing something else. There is nothing wrong with preferring to go out in small groups to quite places with good beer and a calm atmosphere as opposed to a loud club with overpriced weak ass drinks made with shitty booze.

And most importantly I think, especially these days, is that there is nothing wrong with being frugal and saving money so that one can do the things one wants to do as opposed to needlessly spending money on things that have no value or real meaning. (Now you may be thinking, "But, didn't you just get a new car?" And I would say yes, but there was meaning behind it. It wasn't acquired just for the hell of it)

Just my two cents anyway.

Monday, April 11, 2011


Dear Diary:

For the last few months I have accepted the fact that I may very well be alone the rest of my life, and by alone I mean without being in a romantic relationship.

I have accepted that.

Now accepting something and being happy with that reality are two very, very different things.

Case in point: I can accept the fact that the Red Sox started off the season 0-6 and very well may not win the World Series. I can accept that. That doesn't mean that it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Far from it.

I think there comes a point where after a failed marriage, failed dating, failed short-lived relationships, more failed dating, that well, maybe I should just take a hint.

And that is fine. Well, it isn't fucking fine, but it is life. And if that means I do not get to love someone and have her love me back, and feel it, and wake up next to her, and be a dad, and all that shit, then well ok.

I can accept that.

But that doesn't mean that I will necessarily live a happy life. Content probably. Happy, probably not.

Sunday, March 27, 2011

On Hiatus

Dear Diary:

I am taking a break from you until I actually have something to say. Until next time....

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Sometimes They Fight Back

Dear Diary:

Over the last couple of days, a video has gone viral. I am sure you have seen it, or heard of it, but if you have not, here it is:

As someone who moved around a lot growing up, I did have to deal with being bullied on occasion. It wasn't fun. It wasn't fun at all.

Whether it was a hurtful comment, or the time I was crouching down opening my locker and some guys came up behind me and held me while another punched me in the chest and made fun of me, the fat kid, the memories still remain with me to this day. No one likes to be a punching bag, whether verbally or physically. No one deserves to be degraded like that, especially in front of others for a laugh.

I think the reason this video has gone viral has a lot to do with people coming out of the shadows, drawn forth by their memories. To be honest, I want to buy this kid a fucking Coke, pat him on the back and give him a trophy, for having the courage that so many people wished they had when they were being bullied.

And I have to say, the little rat bastard that got his ass slammed to the concrete got off easy. The mental torment that victims of bullying deal with can lead them to much more violent reactions, some involving harm to themselves, and sometimes involving harm, and even death, to many other people. We have heard way too many stories of victims of bullying committing suicide, and we have heard way too many stories of students walking into schools with guns.

Now, as far as this particular incident is concerned, many have come out in support of the young man who stood up for himself, which, as someone who was bullied at one time or another, I happen to agree with. I just wish it didn't take an incident like him having to take matters into his own hands (literally) before people stepped up to say that what was happening to him was wrong.

And as for the bully in this video, all I can say is.....

Dude, you got KNOCKED the FUCK OUT, punkass.

Saturday, March 5, 2011

Reborn, Again

Dear Diary:

I knew the day would happen. I knew when it was, just not where it was. I had been thinking about it, knowing it was off there in the distance, hovering like a fog on the horizon.

And then it came. I awoke and the day felt different. And then they came. The memories forced from places walled off long ago, as though my mind was predetermined to just well, completely fuck with me.

And then I looked at the date. And remembered. I remembered what it was like to walk out of the courthouse two years ago, simultaneously laughing and holding back the tears that were welling up in my eyes. I remembered the feeling of loss, and remembered the feeling of happiness in knowing that the long arduous journey through hell was over.

But even though I remembered those feelings, I did not feel them now. I felt numb. There were no emotions. The day just felt weird. Neither good nor bad, jut weird.

And then the call came. The call that I had been wanting to happen for a while now. The call that changed a lot. The call that was to the casual observer nothing more than a call, nothing more than ordinary business. The call that told me it had arrived, and was ready for me....

And with that singular phone call, arrangements were made to trade in the car that my ex-wife and I had picked out together. And the call came on the two-year anniversary of my divorce being finalized.

And now, the last tie has been severed. The last daily reminder, the last ghost, is gone. And now I feel more like myself than I have in a long time.

I just wish gas prices would stop going up.

Thursday, March 3, 2011

There Is Nothing Worse....

Dear Diary:

There is nothing worse than buying a cup of coffee, and said cup of coffee has a fucked up lid on it, one that isn't quite tight enough to stop coffee from leaking under the lid and landing on your shirt.

It's not that the lid comes off. No, it stays on. It stays on and slowly allows drops of coffee to land on your shirt without noticing until you go to put on your jacket for a meeting and look down and notice coffee stains. If the lid were to come flying off, then well, I would notice that I have coffee on my shirt when it actually happens as opposed to later, after it has already dried and there remains nothing but a stain.

There is nothing worse than this especially if the day has started off on somewhat of a good footing. Oh wait, no, let me correct that. It does become worse if you don't notice said coffee stains on your shirt until after you have had a meeting or two.

And for some reason I just had to tell you this. I do not particularly know why. I mean, I have had something else I wanted to tell you for a while now, but that thought requires thought, and this thought requires just a fucked up coffee lid.

Now, if you will please excuse me, I must get back to my regularly scheduled apparently fucked up day.

Friday, February 18, 2011


Dear Diary:

I joined you almost three years ago. I became part of a community, at first reluctantly. As I became more comfortable, I became more willing to reach out, and let others reach in.

Since then, I have noticed two types. Those who write to write, and those who write to read.

Those who write to write do not need an audience, although they know they have one. They do not write to gain any type of fame, nor do they write to be noticed. They do not write for attention. As they write they paint a landscape of life , using as a brush the written word. The imagery created is art, and the writer truly an artist. They ask questions, but find the answers within.

Those who write to read write to an audience, searching for validation from and unknown individual who somehow believes they have the answer to the question posed. They portray an aura of self-importance, yet have the ability to assume the posture of a victim. The profess confidence, yet portray insecurity. There is no imagery, and no great story. There is nothing profound.

I am not self-righteous enough to believe that I am either one or the other. During the best of times I am one, and during the worst of times I am the other, yet for the majority of the time I am a blend. I would like to think I am confident enough to be the former for the most part, but know that I have written purely for an audience in order to be noticed on more than one occasion, leading to an interesting, and yet sad, contrast.

And while this is what I have noticed, there is nothing wrong with either type. Some choose one. Some choose the other. Some choose both. But as long as the type is chosen for the right reason, then that is what is important.

For choosing one for the wrong reason just makes one look desperate.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011


Dear Diary:

Fuck you. No seriously, fuck you.

Work, life in general, fuck you and the bullshit that you throw me everyday. I am leaving.

That's right. My ass is planning a much needed vacation.

There are a lot of things that are going on right now, and a lot of balls that are being juggled at the moment, that if I give too much detail, well, I will eliminate my ability to write about them in the future. This is one reason you have not heard much from me lately. The other reason is that I do not want to get so excited over something in case it does not pan out. I have done that enough in my life, where I daydream about the "what if's" and ultimately end up disappointed.

So, for the time being, you are just going to have to settle for reading pointless and random bullshit, tirades against the Man, blatherings about nothing in particular, and probably some dick and fart jokes. Because let's be honest, no one with a penis can go forever without throwing in a dick or fart joke. They are always funny. I mean, just think about balls for a second. They are rather hilarious. Except when one is kicked in them. That is NEVER funny, well, unless it happens to someone else, then it is a gut buster.

But anyway, I am taking a road trip. I have always wanted to drive across the country, stopping along the way to see bits and pieces of America that I would normally never see. But you know what? It's kinda fucking chilly at the moment.

So instead of driving cross country, I am planning on driving south. To Key West.

I fully intend to write while on my travels, and it doesn't hurt that my new phone allows me to do so easily. And while some may think of driving for at least 20 hours one way is painful, I find it rather relaxing. I am thinking I will stop along the way, so if anyone has any ideas....

One thing though that keeps popping into my head is the fact that I got married in South Florida. So, I may give you a little surprise. Maybe.

I just know that if I do not get the fuck out of this area soon, I am going to burn myself out.

Saturday, February 12, 2011


Dear Diary:

At the ripe old age of 32, I have finally ventured into the world of smartphones. Yeah yeah, I know I am behind the curve. But, I am also the guy that didn't actually buy his first car until he was 30. Or have sex until his early-mid 20s.

I'm a late bloomer, what can I say?

So, I figured I would dive in head first and upgrade to the most bad ass phone I could get, that I liked. I am not the type to buy the latest trend just because it is the latest trend. I have to like the product.

Now, in purchasing my new device (you really cannot call these things phones anymore, what's the point?) there were some things I insisted upon having: a keyboard, not big and bulky, and cool graphics. I do not like these touch screen keyboards, at all. That is one reason I resisted in getting the iPhone. I just do not like the feel of it.

But, the HTC Evo Shift? Entirely different story. This fucking phone is unbelievable. Not only does it have a keyboard, but it has a touch screen, and not a small one. It has more fucking features than I know what to do with, and well hell, the damn thing just turns me on quite frankly. I love gadgets. Especially when they look cool. And especially when they do exactly what I want, and then some.

And for some strange reason, I sort of feel somewhat normal now. Like I finally use the device for what it is designed for. Like I finally woke up and joined the rest of the world. I mean, while I like gadgets, I do not like just spending money on them just so I can be the first one to have them. So it seems like this smartphone came along at just the right time.

And no, I am not being paid to write anything positive. However, if HTC or Sprint would like to send me a check, I will not object to it. Like the rest of the world, I am not opposed to free shit.

Thursday, February 10, 2011

Fucking Twits

Dear Diary:

"Twitter: Where homely women live out their sex kitten fantasies"
-Frank G, Esq., 2011"

The above quote was not coined by me. It was however coined by a very wise individual. Said wise individual also has a Twitter account, because he enjoys his social media, as well as generally pointing out the absolute idiotic behavior of those who live in this area. So it's not like he was just randomly saying something to be provocative. He has his reasons.

So, the above referenced quote got me to thinking. What is it with social media and dating? And why do people actually think posting shit about dating on social media sites is a good idea? And why in the name of all that is good and holy do those people not realize that they make themselves look like asshats? And why is it that the majority of the bitching and moaning, and occasional gloating is done by women? Women I might add that by and large (with a few exceptions granted) feel the need to put up a suggestive picture that shows some sort of skin, and or cleavage? (Don't hate, I did my research)

And what is even more frustrating is that these same women that consistently use social media to talk about their daily life and provide status updates like "painting my nails while taking a gigantic crap" then actually want us to use, a..........wait for it..................


Ok, let me give a bit of background here. When I was a freshman in college, web based email like Gmail did not exist. Hotmail wasn't even born yet (I think). Cell phones were still not really affordable. When I graduated they were just becoming affordable, barely. What one would call a smart phone did not even exist. Blackberry was a fucking piece of fruit, or a jam.

But all of a sudden, these women want us to party like its 1999 and make a fucking phone call? Sorry, you must not have gotten the memo. It's 2011. My phone only goes off when someone is texting me. Have an actual conversation on the phone? Maybe with my mother. Or maybe with my best friend who I speak to three times a year, the last time involving us talking for a couple of hours and me standing in my kitchen getting fucking hammered in the process (true story).

But no. Some go to great lengths to point out than someone else didn't call.

And how ironic is that? Posting on a social media site that someone didn't use their phone for the original purpose their phone was invented? And posting it using a....wait for

If someone can text, Facebook, E-mail, Tweet, IM, Pin-to-Pin, etc., then why on earth would they use their phone to make a phone call?

Furthermore, most of the stuff said in less than 150 characters is about as important as my daily shit. Actually, that is pretty important. Rather, it is about as important as bird shit on my windshield.

I mean, the REALLY important stuff that comes in under 150 characters should be said directly to a person, not on a phone, and sure as fuck not on Twitter or Facebook. You know, the important stuff like: "I love you" or "Will you marry me" or "I'm sorry" or "I won't get it in your hair this time."

But then again, I don't have a data plan yet cause I am waiting to get a new phone.