Declan MacManus - A Work of Fiction

The funeral

2005-11-16T21:34:00.000-08:00

Nana got me up at the crack of dawn. Fortunately, she had a cup of coffee and a huge breakfast ready for me. I have the feeling that having to take care of Papa every day for over a year is a hard habit for her to break. We had a few hours to go before we had to be at the church for the funeral. Thanks to friends and family, there was very little to do around the house and very little that Nana would need from the store. So, we sat and talked for a while.

Nana asked how I was holding up. I was seconds away from asking her the same thing. I told her that this whole experience seemed all too familiar much like I've been reliving my father's death from fifteen years ago. This began a long discussion about that time.

The whole time my father was in the hospital, I felt as if I was the only one holding out any hope that he would get better. Over the years, I've thought that I was just being a naive little kid who didn't understand what was happening. As Nana and I discussed what happened, many things became clearer. Most importantly was that I was in denial all that time. Deep down, I knew there wasn't anything that could be done to save him. What it all boils down to is that I've been bullshitting myself for years.

And the thought of that brought on the bigger realization that I've held the same philosophy towards every bad situation in my life, like I've always been waiting for the plane to pull out of a dive, right up to the point that it crashes into the ground like a dart. It was that way through the last months of high school, waiting for that one moment where Grace would realize she was wrong about me. It was that way with my ex-fiancee, which ended up being way too little way too late.

All my life, I've been running away from the painfully obvious by feigning ignorace. With Papa...for the first time in my life, I've faced the pain head on, and the jury's still out on whether I'm a better man for it.

It was really cloudy this morning, but the clouds parted just in time for the funeral. All of us entering the church took notice of this, almost as if it was magical. The service itself was brief by Catholic funeral standards. Henry, my cousins and I-the pallbearers-all sat quietly with tears streaming down our faces. Nana looked rather stoic, only occasionally dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief.

As we carried out the casket, I noticed Nicky, Grace and Ben sitting in the back row. I gave them all a so-glad-to-see-you-but-I'm-a-little-busy look. I noticed them later at the cemetery while I was sitting with the family. I kept looking over at Grace, feeling a bit guilty for not having called her in several days, even thought the reasons were obvious.

At the reception, therte was a huge buffet that barely covered everyone who showed up. We each took a turn telling stories about Papa. I almost opted out of this activity, given that many of my stories about him are either about teenage angst or of him in the hospital. But then I remembered our last conversation. It really summed up how intuitive, how direct, and how delightfully tactless that man was. I miss him so much.

I stepped outside to have a smoke, sitting alone on a concrete bench. I closed my eyes for a while and when I opened them again, Ben was standing in front of me, and behind him, Grace. I said hi to Ben and stood up to give Grace a hug. not really knowing what else to say, I gave them the standard thanks-for-coming line that I've gotten used to saying over the past couple days. Grace said they couldn't stay long because she was due back at work. So, I walked them back to their car.

While saying goodbye, I suddenly got a grasp of everything I left back in Tulsa. My job, bills to pay...hell, I had totally forgotten about Cody, my cat. With my mind now flooded with all this stuff I have to do, It took me a moment to snap back to the present and say goodbye to Grace. I gave her a hug and a brief kiss and she was on her way.

I stepped back inside and spent time with the family. When things started to wind down, I helped clean up and drove Nana back to the house. It was 3:30 in the afternoon at this point. I declined Nana's offer to stay for dinner and packed up my stuff to head back home. I gave Nana a big hug and told her to call me if she needed anything. Then, I hit the road.

I had the radio off the whole trip. The last thing I needed on a day like this was to distract myself with whatever drivel the radio was gonna play. I thought about Papa, Nana, about the choices I've made in my life, and how everything is changed forever. Both my father and my father figure are gone, existing only in my memory. In many ways, I still feel as if I've betrayed those memories, but I also feel redeemed for those betrayals. I don't know. I'm still trying to sort it all out.

So, I'm home now. Cody managed to survive by ripping open the huge bag of cat food and, I assume, drinking from the toilet. The only trouble area was the litter box, which was filled to the bursting point. For a moment, I almost called the HazMat team in, but instead held my breath, dumped it all out in the dumpster and hosed the room with Lysol. But Cody was glad to see me.

I called my boss at home and told him I'd be in tomorrow morning, and apologized for all of the time off. He told me that things were a bit hectic, but the managed. The servers were fixed, nay upgraded, and everything should be just fine.

Now, I'm gonna get some sleep and ready myself to return to the life of Declan MacManus, already in progress.

The Wake

2005-11-15T22:32:00.000-08:00

I've been running around all day helping Nana with the last minute preparations for the wake and the funeral. I never got a chance to show her the pictures I had enlarged, and when I brought them up before the wake, she began to cry. She went over to touch them and traced the outline of Papa's face with her fingers. I have no idea why, but I felt I had to apologize for the poor quality of the enlargements...I knew I could've done a better job if I had done them back at the office. She interrupted me and told me they were perfect. I hugged her and we both had a good cry.

Henry and I and all our cousins greeted everyone as they showed up for the wake. Relative I hadn't seen since I was little, and they all reminded me of the fact.

My uncle approached us and handed each of us a poker chip, telling us to leave it with Papa in the casket. As we made our way throught the line to view the body, everyone was leaving a chip in the casket. I joked to Henry that we should be honored that we got the black $100 chips, when many of the extended family were given the red five dollar chips.

My parents never really brought my brother and I to church vary often, so when the priest led us through the rosary, I felt a little better knowing I wasn't the only one completely lost. Perhaps one of the best things about this situation is that you can always fall back on your grief to cover for your complete ignorance of the precessions of faith.

After the wake, we all went back to Nana's (gee, it's weird to not say 'and Papa's' with that) for some leftover fried chicken and poker. To mark the occasion, we left an empty chair for Papa.

On my way to the guest room to get some sleep, I slowly passed by all the family photographs. Everyone had their own section of the wall, but I noticed that mine was the smallest one. It would be selfish as hell for me to point this out to Nana, but it's not hard to see why. I really wasn't around that much. In fact, the last photgraph was from when I was sixteen, and the only way I knew that was the fact that my hair was jet black in the photo (from a horrible goth dye-job).

Once in the room, I emptied my pockets onto the vanity and about a dollar's worth of change fell behind it. I moved the vanity away from the wall to retreive the money, but got side-tracked by a slip of paper I found. It was my father's report card from tenth grade. His GPA was almost as bad as mine back then. Papa never even got that far in school. I guess in some respects Papa was right. I'm just like my father, and his father before him.

Papa's hat

2005-11-14T16:54:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was a day for all of us to let it all sink in. Friends and family came to offer their condolences by way of bringing us massive amounts of food. Maybe it wasn't such a good thing that there's a KFC just down the street from Nana and Papa's house because there's enough fried chicken in this house to feed a small army.

Today was all about preparation. The wake is scheduled for tomorrow night, and I had a lot to do. I've been digging through photo albums all day looking for photos to get enlarged to put on display. If I was back in Tulsa, I could get the whole thing done in a couple hours, but not having access to all that cool graphics equipment I was forced to go with the do-it-yourself photo enlargement kiosk at Wal-Mart. I cost nearly a fortune once I got the frames and everything, but I feel better having done something, anything to help out.

I also went out to buy a new suit. I have never owned a full suit, and this really wasn't the right occasion for me to mix and match from my existing wardrobe. When I got back to the house, Nana took one look at the suit and went back into Papa's closet and produced a dusty old fedora. She dusted it off with her hand and immediately we were both sneezing like crazy. Once the dust cleared (he he he), there was this hat that perfectly matched my new suit. Papa has had this hat since the late fifties, and aside form the dust, it looked like it was in perfect condition.

Nana ceremoniously placed the hat on my head, and it fit perfectly. She urged me to wear it to the service. I'm still quietly debating whether I should. While it is a wonderful tribute to Papa, I'm not sure I want to be the only guy at the funeral wearing a hat.

In Memoriam

2005-11-12T17:13:00.000-08:00

At 10:32 this morning, Edward Dorian MacManus lost his battle with prostate cancer. He passed away quietly surrounded by his family. He was a great man, a loving husband/father/grandfather/great-grandfather, a soldier who served his country in the Korean War, a proud son of Ireland, and a true friend to all that had the pleasure of meeting him. He was 72 years old.

Mended fences

2005-11-11T12:52:00.000-08:00

I spent the morning with Nana in the hospital room, talking about family history. She and Papa have been married for over fifty years, but today I learned that they've known each other their whole lives. Their parents had lived down the street from each other in the same small town their respective ancestors had founded. Their two families came over from Europe in the same boat. Their wedding marked the union of two great families, two parallel paths finally joined into one road. You could say that Nana and Papa have literally been together forever.

I've always believed that love is something that would just make sense. You wouldn't know it until you see it. I can see now that I was wrong in believing there was just one way. In Nana & Papa's case, some times love and marriage is just a natural progression, as if soul mates aren't made, but grown.

Nana used this as a segue way to talk about Grace. I haven't given our relationship much thought lately, given the circumstances. But thanks to Nana, maybe I should. Nana's curiosity on the matter concerns me, but then again, I'm the only one of her grandchildren who isn't married. I need to make it abundantly clear that now is not the time for me. There are times that I wonder if a new relationship is something I really need to be worried about now. Some wounds from the last one are still pretty fresh.

I left the hospital with Henry to go have dinner. We talked for about two hours airing out a lot of what has been left unsaid over the years. Back when we were kids, we were constantly at each other's throats over anything and everything. I guess it took us both thinking about having to lose Papa to realize that we're family, and that we should mend fences while we can.

I asked him what he thought about what Papa told me about being a third generation pain in the ass. He agreed with the assessment. Henry was sixteen when our father died, and he knew a lot more about what was going on than I did...that is to say he knew more about our father than I did. When I think back, I really didn't spend as much time as I should have with him before he died. Henry said that it's sometimes hard to look at me because I am so much like our father.

Once we got back to the hospital, we both went in to check on Nana and on Papa. After a few minutes, I excused myself to go outside to call Grace. She kept asking me about how things were going, and I couldn't really steer the conversation to be about "us". I figure that was for the best, though. I've had too much thinking for one day.

Panic, drive, panic, drive, panic

2005-11-08T18:56:00.000-08:00

I fell asleep on the waiting room couch last night. I was too exhausted to even dream. I remember closing my eyes, and the next thing I know hours had passed, it was morning and Henry was waving his phone in front of my face, saying I had a call.

It was my boss. The servers had fried out overnight and everything we had was lost. He was freaking out. Fourteen hours earlier, he told me everything was covered for the meeting tomorrow...now this. A power surge in the entire building fried a lot of the circuitry. What about the automatic backups, I asked. They only work with that exact brand of server, and replacement parts might take a day or two.

Then, the good news came to me. Last Wednesday, I copied the files over to my laptop to do a little work on them at home. I had the files with me right here.

"GREAT!!! Can you email them?" Hell, no! 381 Megabytes.

"Can you upload them to our FTP site?" Forgiving the fact that I have only a dial-up connection, and that even on a high-speed connection, it would take two hours. Besides, do they have access at the moment? "Um...no."

Shit. All this rested on me. I needed to drive back to Tulsa and copy the files over for them. I grabbed my laptop and went into Papa's room. Nana and Henry were there with him. I have Henry back his phone and told them all that I had to drive back to Tulsa for a few hours, but I'll be back this evening. I lean in to give Papa a hug. He fiddles around with his oxygen mask, trying to take it off with his shaky hands. Nana was quick to smack his arm. "Quit messing with that damned mask!"

Papa looked over at her with the evil eye. As hard as he could, he made a fist and waved it at her. She just shot him a who-are-you-kidding look. He lowered his fist and looked at me, frightened, as if to say "Help me out, here?" I straightened his mask and kissed him on the forehead.

"I wouldn't mess with her if I were you." I told him. "You've been married to her for fifty years, you should know that by now. Love you, Papa. I'll be back later."

I grabbed the rest of my stuff and drove back in record time, only stopping to pick up some coffee and a phone charger for my car. I let the phone charge for a while before I called ahead to the office to let them know when I'd get there to save the day (and my job).

Once I got to my office building, I started up the laptop in the elevator. My boss was pacing the hallway when I got to my floor. He was relieved, but still a little keyed up. We walked-well, I walked, he ran ahead of me clearing people out of my way-to my office. I set down the laptop on my desk and plugged to power cord into the wall outlet. My boss came unglued "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" He reached down and unplugged the cord and careful re-plugged it into a surge protector.

I told him to calm down. "I have spent the last three nights sleeping in a hospital waiting room. Wanna trade scars, here?"

I got connected to the network and copied the files to two separate computers, just in case. My boss assured me that my christmas bonus would be HUGE. As a sure sign of gratitute, he handed me a fifty.

The job was saved, and I left the office to thunderous applause from my co-workers. I went back to my apartment to take a shower and grab some more clothes for the next couple days. Once back in the car, I got a call from my brother. He asked when I would be back, I told him two hours and asked him why. Papa had just suffered a seizure.

I drove back as fast as I could, and got to the hospital an hour and 45 minutes later. A new record. I rushed to the ICU and found everyone in the room. It was soooo quiet in the room. I gave Nana a hug and held her hand as she prayed. I couldn't believe this was happening. I was a hero to my co-workers two hours ago, and now I'm preparing myself for the worst.

Third generation pain in the ass

2005-11-06T21:36:00.000-08:00

My uncle recruited me to help clean up the house for Nana. I thought it would require just a little straightening. When we got out to his van and there was a steam cleaner in the back, it was clear that I had been Shanghaied.

We got to the house, where my aunt and two of my cousins were already hard at work cleaning every square inch of the house. I staked my claim on the garage. I figured that was the easiest room...just moving around boxes and organizing some tools.

What it became was a trip down memory lane and a learning experience into who Papa really was. Every box was labeled in his handwriting, and not Nana's. She hardly ever went out into the garage.

There was a box of old ledgers (that man kept notes on EVERYTHING in his work). One box was full of postcards letters from his time in the war and times he spend away from Nana working contract construction jobs up north. Another box was full of old pull tabs from the Cherokee Casino. Then came the big shocker. Underneath everything were five boxes, each marked with the names of me, my brother and each of my cousins. I went straight for my box. Inside were items from my entire childhood. Toys I used to play with, photos from holidays and family reunions, etc. In the bottom of the box, was a black journal. MY black journal. The one that I threw at Papa when we had our big fight years ago. I flipped through the first few pages and came to one conclusion: I wanted to go back in time and kick my own ass. Geez, I was a moody little shit.

"I see your cleaning technique hasn't improved much." I heard coming from behind the stack of boxes behind me. I peered behind them and it was my brother Henry. I hadn't seen him since last Christmas. I made a half-assed attempt to jump over the boxes and gave him a hug. We got caught up while he helped me get through all of the boxes and finish cleaning the garage.

Henry really wanted to get down to the hospital, so I offered to drive him there. On our way, we stopped to get a bite to eat at Ed Walkers. Our dad used to take us there every couple weeks for french dips and root beer, which is what we both ordered without looking at a menu.

We both chatted about our lives, how it's been so long since we seen each other, how I need to get over to see him and the kids (and vice versa). We were both in a kind of a rush to get to the hospital, but then again, I had a feeling Henry wasn't quite prepared for what he was about to see in that hospital room.

Once we actually got to the hospital, Henry was in the same state of deja vu I was two nights ago. In the hallway, passing the ICU ward that our father was in years ago, he paused and asked "Isn't that where-" I interrupted him, "Yes, it is."

Just before we entered Papa's room, Henry took a deep breath. I put my hand on his shoulder and told him it'll be alright. I knew those words were a bold-faced lie, but it seemed like the right thing to say. We walked in in just enough time to see Papa throw the finger pulse monitor across the room again. Another slap on the arm by Nana straightened him out again. I went over to give Nana a hug while Henry talked to Papa.

After a couple hours, I got the nagging suspicion that I was forgetting something. I stepped out in the hallway to check my messages, but the battery was completely dead. Maybe the gift shop had a charger, or at least a phone card...then it hit me. I have a brother in the next room that works for a cellular phone company...The odds were good that he had a national calling plan.

I borrowed his phone and checked my messages. Two from Grace, one from Sid and one from my boss, asking if I was coming back for the meeting on Tuesday. SHIT! That's what I was forgetting. I called him back and gave him the low-down. I could come back, but I really didn't want to leave Papa. I gave him all the passwords to my computer and my files, and told him everything that needed to be done for the meeting. I owe him, big time.

I went back to the room and offered to stay with Papa so that Nana could get some sleep. She declined, but said she'd like to go get some dinner. Henry offered to take her out somewhere. They left me alone with Papa, who was taking a nap and snoring away. I sat down in the chair at his bedside, accidentally knocking over Nana's knitting bag. It's amazing that something that is full of yarn could make so much noise when it spills on a linoleum floor.

Papa woke up. It took him a couple seconds to realize what was going on. He looked over at me and said "Hi." He asked where Nana was, and I told him. After that part of the conversation lulled, I told him that we were all at the house today cleaning up for when he can come home. He immediately called me on my bullshit. He knew he wasn't coming home.

The time for me to tell him what I needed to tell him. I told him how I found the box in the garage, and about the journal. I couldn't tell if he was playing dumb or if he honestly couldn't remember. I reminded him nonetheless. I wasted no time in saying I'm sorry. I told him I loved him and that I wish I could take back everything I had done and said. With a shaky voice, he asked me to sit down.

"All is forgiven." he told me. "You were a moody little kid, and I'm not gonna pretend I don't know why. Your father was the same way, and he was just like his own father. Your grandmother will back me up on this, Declan. You are a third generation pain in the ass. It's in your blood, sonny."

I tried to tell him that I still feel like shit about it regardless. He was quick to shut me up about it. "It's alright, boy. No need to say anything more. Now, if you really want to make it up to me, get this damned catheter out of me."

I replied, "If that's what it takes, I may have to leave this unresolved."

He laughed and called me a pussy. I was cracking up. I sat down, took his hand and told him, "I love you, Papa."

"I love ya' too, boy. Now, shut the hell up and let me get some sleep."

He fell asleep just as Henri and Nana were getting back. I left to get some coffee, and went back to the family roomMy uncle and cousins had just shown up. I chatted with them for a while, then hacked into thte phone line again to update the blog.

Hard lessons

2005-11-05T22:27:00.000-08:00

I got to talk with Grace for almost an hour after my last post. It was nice to talk to someone about Papa that wasn't there at the hospital with me dealing with the same emotions. I felt guilty, though, as if I was burdening her with all of my troubles. She said she didn't mind. I only wished that we could've talked longer, but my phone battery was almost dead.

My shift with Papa was long and relatively quiet, aside from the beeping heart monitor and the sound of his snoring, which thankfully was muffled by his oxygen mask. I sat at his side, staring at him, recollecting all that time he spent with me at my father's bedside fifteen years ago.

I guess it was just that I was young, or that I didn't understand the gravity of the situation, or that I was in denial...but I was pretty much the only one holding out any hope that my father would recover from his injuries. I thought he was asleep, and that he'd wake up at any minute. The truth was that he was brain dead. He lingered on life support for three days before they decided that nature should run its course.

I wasn't there that morning when his body gave out on him. He died at 7:30, and I woke up at home around two hours later. The first person I found that morning was my mother, who broke the news. Soon after, Papa walked in the door, and look on his face was what really made it hit me...hard. All three of us sat on the couch and had a big cry.

I guess it's tragic irony that I now find myself sitting at Papa's bedside, knowing everything that is going on, knowing he'll probably never leave this hospital alive, and that a time will come very soon that I have to say goodbye.

Nana came in this morning to relieve me of my shift. I went to the family waiting room to get some sleep. I woke up a few hours later and went right back to Papa's room. My uncle had just shown up, and Nana was getting hungry, so I offered to buy her lunch down at the hospital cafeteria.

On our way out into the hallway, I saw Grace sticking her head into the waiting room. I called out her name and she came running to greet me. She was worried that I hadn't answered my phone. I had turned it off to save the battery. Little did I know it would bring this level of panic in her mind. After an awkward introduction to Grace, I asked Nana if I could meet her in the cafeteria in a few minutes.

Grace and I grabbed a cup of vending machine coffee and headed outside for a smoke. She asked how I was holding up, and I told her the truth. I felt like shit. I wished there was something I could do to make myself feel as bad physically as I do emotionally. That way, I could do something about the pain, other than wait for the hurt to go away. Grace gave me a big hug, than punched me in the gut. She told me she pulled her punch, which I'm glad she did because it still knocked the wind out of me. She did it as a joke and as a lesson, to be careful what I wish for.

I walked her to her car and gave her a hug goodbye, and she countered with a kiss. Not exactly how I'd picture our first kiss-under these circumstances-but it was nice. It brought to mind all those times back in high school when we almost kissed, but got interrupted by some outside forces (cough, cough, Jeff, cough, cough). For the second and a half that the kiss lasted, I completely forgot my troubles. As soon as it was over, it all came back, particularly the fact that Nana is waiting for me in the cafeteria.

I said goodbye to Grace and saw her on her way, then ran back inside to meet with Nana. Boy, she was full of questions about Grace. I told her she was a friend from high school I've been talking to a lot recently. This lead to a long discussion about my ex-fiancee, and the real reasons behind the breakup. Nana wouldn't buy it that it was the cheating issue. There had to be something else in her opinion.

She was kinda right. There were a lot of differences that we were just too chickenshit to confront. Even though we were engaged, deep down she really didn't want to get married. Kids were another matter. She wanted to have kids, but I was the holdout on that front. I guess I've always lacked the maturity and wisdom I feel is needed to be responsible for another human being. Later, after being pumped for more information about Grace, Nana pointed out the irony that I am, in a manner of speaking, dating a single mother. Oh, brother.

Rushing back

2005-11-04T23:15:00.000-08:00

I hadn't planned on going to Fort Smith, but it became absolutely necessary. I got a call from Nana this afternoon, telling me that she was taking Papa to the emergency room. He was having trouble breathing, and he couldn't stop trembling. I got to a stopping point with my work and told the boss that I had to get on the road.

It was a quiet hour and a half drive. It's normally two hours, but having been back so many times recently, I've gotten quite good at knowing where the speed traps are. I think I topped out around ninety-five, quite a feat given the condition of my car. I didn't stop once, and was coasting on fumes by the time I got to the hospital.

Sparks hospital was where I was born. It was where my father died. And now, I was walking around all over the place, trying to find where Nana and Papa were. He was moved up to the second floor ICU, and I didn't find them right away, but I did find one of the waiting rooms with the a sign that read "MacManus Family". No one was in the room, so I kept looking. Finally, I found a nurse and she showed me where Papa's room was.

I walked in and greeted the family. Papa was going completely nuts in his bed. He was not happy at all to be hooked up to all those monitors, his catheter, etc. When I walked in, he was in the middle of taking his pulse monitor off, rolling up the cord and tossing it across the room. Nana walked to the foot of the bed and retreived the monitor and put it back on his finger, all the while giving him a dirty look like she's had to do that many times so far.

I went to the side of the bed, taking Papa's hand and telling him hello. For a moment, I thought his handshake was a little too enthusiastic, but then I realized it was mostly muscle ticks. He kept fiddling with his oxygen mask, trying to take it off, but a little slap on the arm from Nana straightened him out in a flash.

My aunt and uncle had left to get us all some dinner, and I offered to stay with Papa if Nana wanted to go with them. I knew it was a stupid thing to ask a woman to leave her husband of fifty years' bedside in the ICU, but it just kinda slipped out. I handed my uncle enough cash to cover the entire family as a way of redeeming my moment of idiocy.

After a while, they returned with the food, just in time for Papa's dinner of hospital spaghetti and jello. I thought that was rather cruel to give food that so easily falls off a spoon to a man with such shaky hands. So, I helped feed him. He couldn't eat all to much, as the pain meds were making him queasy. Soon after, he went to sleep. Nana told us all to leave her alone with him for the first shift of the night. My uncle got the next shift, and I got the one after that. The rest fo us retired to the waitning room to get some rest, but none of us could sleep.

Just down the hall from Papa's room was the room that my father died in a little over fifteen years ago. I wanted to walk past the room, but I chickened out. It was in an area that was more restricted, and I figured my explanation for being there would sound a little, I don't know, insane.

Wandering the halls, I found myself in the vending room, where I saw the seventies-style coin-operated coffee/hot chocolate machine that I remember was there when my father was in the ICU. I remember drinking so much hot chocolate from that machine that I'm surprised I wasn't admitted for sugar shock. I got a cup for old time's sake, and it tasted stale, like it was the same batch of cocoa mix that was in there last time was here.

So now, I'm hyper as hell from the cocoa, and I'm hacking into the courtesy phone line to post on the blog. I've got a few hours to kill before my shift, and sleeping is out of the question. I think I'll step outside for a smoke, maybe take a chance that Grace is still awake enough for a phone call.

Making the rounds

2005-10-30T20:46:00.000-08:00

I got my car back from the shop and everything is fine on that front. My insurance is only gonna go up twenty dollars a month as a result, but I've been told that will go down after a settlement is reached with the State.

This week has been nuts at work. Several new clients have come on board, and it'll take us some time to adjust to the workload and/or hire some new people. Good thing I get paid overtime.

I hadn't heard from Sid in a while, so I called him up this afternoon. He's met this girl, and he's been stuck in the new relationship disappearing act. He had a different sound to his voice...far less sardonic and dark as I'm used to hearing from him. He's only known this girl a week, but they have not spent more than twelve hours apart since their first date. Absolutely amazing.

After getting off the phone with him, I made a few more phone calls. I called my mom to see how she's doing. She and I haven't talked very often over the past couple years, mostly on account of my relationship with my ex. The two of them didn't get along, and it kinda boiled down to a it's her or me situation. Now, I'm left with a burned bridge to rebuild. We had a good little talk; airing out a lot of the issues that have kept us apart over the past few years. With everything going on with Papa, I've had a renewed energy towards connecting with my family.

Since my father's death, I've been kind of the black sheep. At the time, I didn't fully understand what was happening to me, so I internalized my fears and withdrew from those close to me. When I was a senior in high school, I was showing signs of turning around. That was, until my friends and I had our falling out. Then, I crawled back into my shell. It was so hard for me to connect with anyone because I was either afraid of losing them or being hurt by them. But now, there are things changing around me, seeming without reason, and I'm doing my best to go with the flow.

After mom, I gave Nana a call. It had been a rough day for Papa. He was sleeping when I called, but he was in a lot of pain earlier today...almost enough to warrant a trip to the emergency room. He's fine now, though. That news didn't do much to ease my sense of panic.

I called Grace, but she didn't answer, so I left a message. I kept the mood of my message short, sweet, and charming...and I got it all in one take. I didn't have to review my message or anything. I may be getting the hang of this after all.

Good karma...sort of

2005-10-23T17:26:00.000-07:00

Saturday morning I slept in too late, and almost missed out on lunch with Grace. As soon as I realized what late it was getting (11:30), I called her and thankfully, she was running late, too. We made plans to meet up for a quick bite to eat before she had to go to work.

We were unsure how to greet each other. I played it safe by offering a handshake, but she was going in for a hug. I switched to hug mode and she switched to handshake. We wound up doing both. We ordered our food and didn't talk too much after that. We had these weird silences. Not uncomfortable sliences, but those moments where you trail off, looking someone in the eyes, and just giggle and smile.

Is it wrong for me to want to ruin the mood by continuing to apologize for the Jeff incident? She seems like she's over it all, and that she understands that I'm not a violent person. It also seems like she sees the real me...the one who fell in love with her back in junior high...the one that would do anything to have her feel the same way all through high school. But the question remains, does she see the me that has regretted every day since I left, or the me that has compared every girlfriend from then to now to her?

There's so much I want to say to her, but I can't. We got through lunch, and I had a great time. We hugged for what seemed like forever, during which, I kissed her on the temple. That's about as far as it got. I told her I'd try to make it back next weekend, or maybe the weekend after that...I'm sure I sounded like a total schmuck.

I went back to Nana & Papa's house to see how they were doing; to check if they needed anything before I went back to Tulsa. Nana had a few things she needed some things from the supermarket. She offered to come along with me, but just then, Papa had himself a little accident...not entirely uncommon with prostate cancer. So, Nana presented me with a choice: Shopping or clean-up.

So, off the the supermarket I went. While in the checkout lane, I spotted some candies left behind on the shelf. They were these maple candies I remember Nana always had with her when I was a kid. Nana isn't supposed to have too many sweets, doctor's orders. However, these candies were sugar free.

Nana was surprised by the candies, even more so when I gave her all her money back, too. She protested and tried to give me the money back, but I refused. I felt like such the good grandson for buying them everything they needed for the week...until about half-way home when I realized that Nana had slipped the money into my coat pocket before I left.

Now I know where I get my need to have the final word. Thanks, Nana.

The good grandson

2005-10-21T23:04:00.000-07:00

I'm sure I'm violating the agreement I signed for the rental car, but I decided to drive to Fort Smith to have dinner and play poker at Nana and Papa's. I stopped off for a sixer of my favorite beer in lieu of the weaker-than-Evian light beer my uncle always drinks. I offered to help out with dinner, and instead of mixing the salad dressing like I was expecting, I got something way cooler. A rite of passage, as it were. I...got to grill!

Papa was sitting in his little swivel chair in the garage, and he tossed me his apron. "Here, flip the steaks, boy." he told me. This apron has been around as long as I remember, and I don't think it's ever been washed. But I didn't care. It was just so cool to get to man the grill, even if it was under Papa's stern, watchful eye.

The steaks met everyone's approval. I just sat there, savoring my food with a smug look on my face. I looked over at Papa, eating his steak very slowly, in very small bites, and he looked over at me and gave me a proud little nod. I was on top of the world...at least until the poker game started.

The problem wasn't that I kept getting bad hands, it was that I kept getting great hands and someone always had a better hand. I even got beat with a full house, aces over kings...ACES OVER KINGS! My uncle looked over at me with his straight flush, took a swig of his light beer and laughed.

I went and sat in the living room afterwards and chatted with Papa for a while until he got weak and had to go to bed. All in all, it was a good night.

While the rest of the family finished up the poker game, I cleaned up the kitchen. Nana was shocked, as if she never had seen me clean up after myself before. I stepped outside for a smoke and to give Grace a call. She had a long day, and I caught her just before she went to bed. I cut the conversation short to let her get some sleep. We're gonna meet for lunch tomorrow. Yipee!

In the meantime, my battery's dying and I forgot my charger. Until tomorrow...

I'm not supposed to know these things

2005-10-17T17:23:00.000-07:00

I had it in with the boss today, because I wasn't able to get any work done due to the fact that I had personal phone calls all day. I had people from the Board of Transportation trying to keep me from suing the state over the damage to my car. I had lawyers from my insurance company telling me not to talk to anyone from the State about this. They're on top of it, they tell me. I tried everything I could to multi-task, but there was nothing I could do to keep them from calling me. If I ignored them on my cell, they called my office. By about three o'clock, I had to tell the insurance lawyers to just take care of it, and when something gets done, preferably in the form of a big fat check, just let me know where I need to sign.

To try to smooth things over with the boss, I offered to take him out for a few drinks after work to blow off some steam. He's been under a lot of pressure lately and it did him some good to get out of the office for a change. Since I was buying, my boss took full advantage of the situation. I swear, that man has a liver of pure titanium. After about an hour, he got into his "let mees tellz yhoo shome tinn" drunken advise stage. Through all the slurred speech, I thought he said something about wanting to give me a raise, but I'm not sure. I've always been one to think that a drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts, but I'm not gonna hold my breath on this one.

I started to get tired, and thankfully my boss called his wife to come pick him up. I stuck around long enough to see him off. On my way out to the rental car, I got a call from Nicky. He told me that he talked to Grace this morning, and said that she was absolutely giddy. Over me? I got a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. What the hell did I do, other than atone for everything I fucked up? Jesus, did Jeff really screw up so badly that simple accountablity is enough to sweep her off her feet?

Nicky explained that she has had a really rough time since the divorce, and she's been thinking a lot about the past, and how different things would've been if she had chosen door number two. That got me to thinking about everything that has happened. There was never an option available for me that wouldn't have just made things worse. If I hadn't ran away, maybe I could've prevented Grace from ending up with Jeff, but only by virtue of the fact that she would've seen that neither of us was worthy of her time.

I'm freaking out over this just a little. Once I got home, I talked to Sid about it all. His response? "Hey, how's the mouth looking on that gift horse?"

Maybe he's right. This is, more or less what I wanted all along. I just need to keep from screwing all this up by being my usual self. In addition, whatever I'm doing right, I need to keep doing.

Reaching out

2005-10-16T15:18:00.000-07:00

Been out of commission for the past couple days due to the fact that I've had NO car. After talking with the police, then my insurance company, I got several calls from various agents of the Oklahoma Board of Transportation who were desperate to talk to me before I wound up on the news talking about how our state's bridges are falling apart. I told them to talk to my insurance company regarding the matter.

Given the nature of my claim, it took a little while to get a rental car from my insurance agent. Thanks to the internet, I worked from home on Friday. My plans for a surprise visit to to Nana and Papa's got thrown right out the window. I did give them a call to say hi.

I had pizza delivered Friday night and hung out at home with the cat. I gave Grace a call to talk some more. She had just dropped off Ben over at Jeff's house for the weekend. He had apparently gotten in her face over not doing this and not doing that. I did my best to try to console her, even resorting to apologizing on behalf of the entire male gender. This gave us a chance to talk about what had happened the night that I fought him outside the restaurant...and back in high school.

Back in high school, it was easy for Jeff to play the sympathy card to get Grace to side with him. It wasn't until this second fight that Grace saw that Jeff was the aggressor, not me. I still feel like shit over it nonetheless. The last thing I want anyone to think is that I am a violent guy. I took no pleasure out of beating the living crap out of the guy...twice. I told her this, not in so few words mind you. It was a bit of a bucket of ice water on the mood I was intending to set with this phone call, but it was something we needed to talk about sooner or later.

One thing that she and I have always had in common is an incredibly sarcastic sense of humor. While explaining how sorry I was for what I did to Jeff last month, she just stopped me and said she couldn't hold too much of a grudge over someone kicking her ex-husband's ass. We had a great laugh over that.

This led to a change of subject, namely my falling concrete incident. She kinda freaked out over it, pointing out how close I came to death. I hadn't thought of it all that way, but I'm lucky I was, at the very least, injured. Once I realized this, we both had a collective sigh of relief.

I told her that I'd let her know how the whole thing turns out with the car, and more importantly when I'll be able to make it back to Fort Smith to see Papa. It took us both a long time to say goodbye. A good sign in my book.

The sky is falling

2005-10-13T18:34:00.000-07:00

I've always had a bad relationship with gravity. One time, on my way to a job interview, I couldn't find a parking space remotely close to the office I needed to go to and I had to hoof it across a huge parking lot. It was in the middle of this parking lot that I had a bird crap on my shoulder. Wrong place, wrong time.

After a concert one night in Kansas City, I was walking back to my car, and took a detour into the woods to take a leak. It was really dark, so I didn't see the fifteen foot embankment until I had walked right off the edge of it. I broke my wrist and sprained my ankle.

I narrowly avoided death a couple years ago when an tree branch weighted down by an ice storm broke off and landed right in front of me. It didn't miss me entirely. The ends of the branch scratched the hell out of my right cheek and forehead.

Today, I was driving along the expressway...thinking happy thoughts...good music on the radio...then, all of a sudden, while going under an overpass, a big ass chunk of concrete fell from the bridge and came right through my windshield on the passenger side. I panicked, swerved, jumped the curb and scraped my car against light post.

And here, I was feeling kinda good with my situation in life.

Maybe, just maybe...

2005-10-11T20:28:00.000-07:00

I came home from work tonight ready to call Grace again, going against the grain of normal "guy logic". Well, that is to say, my brain was ready to call her. Every other cell in my body was scared shitless. I decided to go out to dinner, you know, to buy myself some time. Don't wanna call too early, but don't want to call too late.

Dinner didn't afford me much opportunity to distract myself from "DEAR GOD WHAT AM I GONNA SAY???". As much as I was trying to focus on my enchilada platter, when a waiter dropped a large tray of dishes, breaking them all over the floor, and some patron yelled out, "Way to go there, grace!" All I could do was roll my eyes, look to the ceiling and mutter to myself, "Thank you, God, thank you so bloody much!"

I was asking for my check when my phone rang. Being a little too quick on the draw, I forgot to check the Caller ID. It was Grace, and she answered with a quiet "Uh...hi."

In hindsight, it was a wise choice that I opened my end of the conversation with a jovial "Well, Hi there!" Her mood lightened. We talked a bit about what we've been up to since, uh-hem, the incident. I was truthful, without playing up the depression angle, and without putting up too much of a strong front. I got a little more truthful once I got inside my apartment, away from the prying ears of the patrons of the restaurant and the neighbors out on their patio.

Grace said that Nicky's been talking about me a lot lately. He told her what I've said about her. That's what convinced her to call me, she said. By no means were my conversations with Nicky in the strictest confidence, but hey, a plug is a plug. I give him credit for giving fate a little nudge and convincing her to call me.

After a while, we were hitting a groove in the conversation...until it came to the heart of the matter. The Jeff Incident. Not one of my proudest moments, I said to her. In fact, it's tied for first with the first Jeff Incident ten years ago. What I ended up telling her was that what she saw was, sad to say, not me at my worst. Me at my worst was dealing with the thought that I had completely blown it with her, all because I let that asshole get under my skin.

I felt myself tearing up as I told her how truly sorry I was that I had hurt her. All I've ever wanted since we were kids was for her to see only the best of me. Unfortunately, I've always stumbled whenever I tried to put my best foot forward. I went on for at least fifteen minutes saying all these things that could've been summed up in "I'm so sorry."

When I finished there was a long silence before she asked, "Is that why you disappeared?"

I told her I was acting on my gut instinct. Running away, at least back in high school, seemed like the only choice that didn't dig me further into the hole I was in. I was embarassed, shamed, and alone in my pain. I asked her, "Even if I had stayed, would things have been different? Would I have had a chance in Hell? Would you have ended up with Jeff?"

No simple answers to any of those questions. In the time that I was away, Grace and I had a chance to learn lessons we wouldn't have learned otherwise. We both graduated from the school of hard knocks, majoring in different fields and even taking on some post-graduate work. We could go over the hypothetical situations all night, but it wasn't gonna get us anywhere. What's more important is where we go from here.

In the end, it was left at "You've got my number and I've got yours." I told her that I may make it back to Fort Smith to visit my grandfather. Maybe we could have lunch.

"Maybe." She said. "Just Maybe."

Rough drafts

2005-10-10T18:14:00.000-07:00

It took hours for me to get up the nerve to call Grace. It was about seven when I finally hit DIAL on my cell phone. One ring...two...three...then a half dial. Oh, crap. Voice mail.

I've noticed a small trend with women with bad luck with men. They tend to give their number instead of their name on their outgoing message. I'm sure this message was recorded months ago, but i have a feeling I was kind of a reason for the level of mistrust it takes to not even make your personal message, well, personal. I had but a few precious seconds to think about what I want to say.

I can't remember exactly what I said at first. All I know is it was about ninety percent um's and er's. I ran out the time, feeling like a total idiot. Only then, an answer to my prayers. A technical sounding woman's voice said, "If you'd like to review your message, press one. If you'd like to change your message, press two..."

TTTTTTTTWWWWWWWWOOOOOOOO!!!!!

"When finished with your message press pound. BEEP!"

I left a slightly better, more coherant message. I was doing fine until I felt myself trailing off. I wasn't making any sense. POUND!

"If you'd like to-"

TWO!

I took a deep breath, but I exhaled too deeply after the beep... oh, great. Now I'm a heavy breather.

POUND, TWO, BEEP.

"Um..."

SHIT!!! POUND, TWO, BEEP.

"Hi, Grace...it's Deck. I got your message. Sorry, I was out of town and didn't get your message until this morning..." I hesitated to hit pound. "Anyway, give me a call...I'm free pretty much anytime. Bye." Pound.

I immediately second-guessed (or fifth-guessed at this point). But then, I figured I could be a chicken shit about this all night, and she won't get this message until at least the morning. I bit the bullet and hung up. What I said is what I said.

The ball's in her court. We'll see...

Messages

2005-10-09T15:42:00.000-07:00

In all the hustle and bustle to get home yeasterday, I neglected to check my messages until sometime this afternoon. The reception on my cell phone wasn't great in Atlanta, and I never got any of these calls while I was there, even though I managed to make a few outgoing calls. They didn't even show up on my caller ID under missed calls until today. I got a couple calls from my mom, a couple from Sid, and one from a number I didn't recognize. It was a 479 area code, and the first thing I thought of was - bad news about Papa.

I immediately checked my voice mail, sadly skipping through the calls from Mom and Sid, trying to get to the mystery caller. It went something like this, in a woman's voice:

"Um...hey...So, I just wanted to call and say hello, and to see how you were doing. Anyway, just give me a call sometime and we can...look, I'm sorry. I know I overreacted, and I'm sorry for that. I just apologized twice, didn't I. Just give me a call. I suck at leaving messages like this. I guess you already know that."

Then It sounded like she was hanging up then changed her mind and spoke again:

"This is Grace, by the way. Please call me. My number is 479-BEEEEEEEEP!"

That wasn't censorship, it really beeped. I don't know if it ran out of time or what. Weird, huh?

So what do I do?!? I think I need to sit still and let my heart still racing. I'm not writing this in hopes of getting a response from anyone on the matter. I just needed to get this off my chest. Of course, I'll call her back. But first, some courage may be in order, and by that I mean alcohol.

Seminars

2005-10-08T21:45:00.000-07:00

I walked into work on Tuesday to the news that I had to attend a seminar in Atlanta, and that my flight left in two hours. I was in a mood, and because I had to make this trip, I made sure I got something in return. I got an extra week of vacation. I kinda wondered if I should've steered my boss towards a raise instead.

I rushed home to pack, completely forgetting my laptop. Not that I'd have much time to get online.

The seminar schedule was long as hell, boring as hell, quite frankly it was hell. Here's the new software, here's how much it costs, here's how to use it once you got it. By the time I got out every night, all I wanted to do was eat dinner and go to sleep. Which is what I did. A shame, really. I hear Atlanta has a pretty cool night life.

I couldn't wait to get home. Even today as I was flying back, I did as much as possible to avoid human interaction. If they weren't remotely involved in the process of me getting back to my apartment, they were ignored completely.

I had a co-worker look after my cat for the time I was gone. That cat is becoming fat and very happy. It was so good to see him. The first familiar face I've seen in days, and he's now cleaning himself with his own tongue.

I lead a charmed life, don't I?

Clarity

2005-10-03T20:50:00.000-07:00

I got up early today, fed the cat (even though the whiny little shit kept me up all night), and went for a run down by the river. It was a strange thing, because no one was out this morning. Not a single jogger in the park, not a sinlge bum asleep on the benches. Nothing. It was a ghost town. And while that gave me a chance to clear my head, all I could think about was how incredibly creepy and silent it was.

After about a half hour I got home and showered. I peeked through the blinds as I was getting ready and it was still all too quiet outside. I briefly thought that it might have been a daylight savings time switchover that I wasn't aware of, but that was disproved by the local TV morning show. A quick call to the time & teperature line confirmed my fear that the morning show had the time wrong as well.

I got dressed, got in my car, and that's when I caught my first glimpse of civilization. Then, everything went right back to how it always has been in the morning. I stopped a QuikTip for my morning coffee and chicken biscuit, and I got bugged for change by one guy as I was going in and two guys on my way out. Yep, everything was back to normal.

Why was I so weirded out by the fact that for a brief time this morning, I was completely left alone? I should've relished in it. There was no polite nodding to strangers as I passed them on the running trail. I didn't have to worry about what I was doing, like, if my run suddenly looked a little effeminate when I sensed a slight cramp in my thigh. I didn't have to concern myself with keeping my thoughts to myself when I could've just said them out loud.

I gotta remind myself to take stock in those moments. This kind of thing rarely happens at all, especially in the city. I guess that's my advice to you all: Don't question it when a moment of clarity comes your way.

No particular place to go

2005-10-01T23:36:00.000-07:00

I had to run a few errands this morning. I mailed out some bills, picked up some dry cleaning, the like. I got back on the expressway, heading home. For reasons that escape me, I skipped my exit and just kept on driving. I had no idea where I was going...I just went on instinct. If an exit looked like someplace interesting, I took it.

All I knew about my route was that it I was heading west, deep into rural Oklahoma. I passed farm after farm, small town after small town. I stopped at a diner in a town I can't remember. I had never had better roast beef and mashed potatoes. The sweet tea had enough sugar in it to keep me going on the next leg of my journey.

I pulled into a cemetery out in the middle of nowhere. I needed to stretch my legs and it was the only place to turn off the road for as far as the eye could see. I walked around the tombstones. The most recent grave was from 1957, the oldest read 1897. I sat down next to a tree to take in the absloute quiet. This was on the top of a hill, and I could see for miles. There was nothing around. Miles of grazing land, but no cows or horses. Then, I got to thinking about the graves. Were all these people the last of some ghost town around here? Has no one else died since 1957? Or, did they just start burying people at another cemetery? Did anyone else ever visit loved ones at this cemetery? After about a half-hour of pondering, I hit the road again.

I wasted a tank and a half of gas in total before I decided to turn around. I bought a map at a gas station along with a Yoohoo and a KitKat (another sugar rush), and tried to figure out where I was. I couldn't. The country bumpkin behind the counter was no help at all. So, I just headed back the way I came, looking for town names that looked familiar. Eventually, I found a sign that said Oklahoma City was 63 miles away, so that's where I was headed. I could find my way back home from there.

When I got home it was dark, and I could hear Cody meowing from down the staircase. I had done absolutely nothing all day, and had spent almost $100 in gas, food and tolls doing it. I may have to eat bologna all next week to make up for it, but it was worth it. I gained some perspective on my life and the world, even though I probably only traveld about one-eighth across the country. I figure if I ever have the time and the cash, I may go even further next time.

I made myself some George Foremaned chicken for my dinner, and shared some of it with Cody to make up for being gone all day. Then, I cleaned up the apartment, took out the trash and listened to a couple of old Ray Charles records before settling in to bed with the laptop. I googled my friend's names for a while. I found Sid's name on a draft list for the NHL. Nicky's name is the same as a lounge singer in Amsterdam. Clara recently celebrated her 101st birthday. Grace starred in several obscure b-movies in the 50's. My ex's name is registered as a sex offender in Montana. Nana is a student of the month at Bell Elementary in Minneapolis. Papa died of a political hunger strike in an Irish prison back in 1973. And apparently, I have the same name as a guy who now calls himself Elvis Costello. Rock on!

And now, I must get some sleep. It's been a along day.

Answers leading to more questions

2005-09-28T18:05:00.000-07:00

I talked to Sid for the first time in what seems like forever. It felt good to talk to someone about my grandfather, someone on the outside, without a personal connection. It was, in essense just stating the obvious. As much as I've avoided going back home over the past few years, I'm gonna have to go back as much as I possibly can over the next few months. The time has come for me to face my fears and spend as much time as possible with Papa.

The question remains: What do I say to him? I was a teenager, I was gonna rebel about something, and he just happend to be in my path. By that rationale, I should be totally devoid of guilt over this, but seeing him face-to-face this weekend, The only words I couldn't say to him were the ones I needed to say the most. And the only time the words started to come out, he fell asleep on me. Ain't that about a bitch.

I told Sid about my lunch with Nicky, even thought there wasn't much discussed that Sid didn't already know.

At the end of the conversation, in a surprising change of subject, Sid asked me if I knew of any advertising jobs available in Tulsa. I told him the truth, that if there's ever a job open, there's usually a good reason why. I just left it at that.

For now, I'm gonna go to bed early tonight. That is, if Cody will shut the hell up. Got to get some sleep, got to stop thinking for the night.

Still left unsaid...for now

2005-09-27T17:11:00.000-07:00

Saturday night was a quiet night with Nana and Papa. We heated up leftovers, which proved problematic for me later in the night. We spent most of the night watching TV. Around ten, I helped Papa back to his bedroom. I sat with him for a little bit, talking about a little bit of everything. When we got to the heart of the matter, the stuff we've been meaning to say to each other for a long time, that's when he fell asleep. Just my luck. I get a perfect change to say I'm sorry, and he falls asleep on me.

Sunday morning, we all got up early for another big breakfast. Betty showed up to watch after Papa so that Nana could go to church. She insisted that I go along with her. I wanted to give her my normal explanation about my negative feelings about religion, but I just left it at "I wanna spend some time with Papa."

There was no to-be-continued of our conversation the night before. Papa was weak, and slept off and on for most of the day. Nana got home around one and we had lunch. After which, I headed home.

I took the scenic route home, going about an hour out of my way, for no real reason. It was justa good day for a drive. When I got home, Cody was so happy to see me. Somehow, he had figured out how to knock the automatic feeder over and spill out all of the food. He must've eaten twice what he should have. I can't hold it against him. I like to eat way too much too when I'm left all alone.

Yesterday was the same old grind. I got through my work early, and got a jump start on the next. It was the same for today. If I keep this up, I'll be a over a week ahead by Friday.

Jeez, I gotta find something in my life other than work.

Not the way it oughta be...

2005-09-24T14:31:00.000-07:00

I got to my grandparents' house around seven last night, just in time for dinner. Friday nights at their house is what Sunday dsupper was back in the "simpler time" most people talk about. We had twenty-six family members, spanning four generations, having dinner together, being together, and it was as beautiful as I remember from my youth. Nana worked as a cafeteria lunch-lady before becoming a nurse, and Papa was a cook in the army. Translation: Neither one of them know how to cook for less than fifty people. It's much less supper as it is a feast.

I only wish I could've gotten there sooner so I could help with dinner. Ordinarily, it was Nana in the kitchen taking care of side dishes, while Papa was manning the grill outside. Last night, as it has been for a couple months now, Papa was too weak to cook. So, my uncle was taking over for him, and it looked like it was breaking his heart. As it was mine. Here is a man who was always active, always doing something, always helping out his friends and family. And to have something, anything, causing him to sit it out, it was frustrating the hell out of him.

This latest round of aggressive chemo had taken a lot out of him. I sat beside him as he stretched out on the couch. I shook his hand at first, noticing his hands were swollen due to the treatment. He was so glad to see me, even though he called me by my brother's name more than one time.

After dinner, it was time for poker - No Limit, Winner-Take-All Texas Hold 'Em. There were two tables, eight to a table, and the top four from each table would play in a championship. At least I wasn't the first to lose, but I was second only to my sixteen-year-old-cousin James. So, I went into the living room to watch TV with Papa while he drifted in and out of sleep. I forgot how loudly that man can snore. It sounded like a jet engine running out of gas.

I woke up this morning to the smell of sausage and eggs on the griddle. Nana was getting breakfast together. I helped her out by fixing coffee and getting the biscuits out of the oven. My aunt Betty showed up with groceries from the Wal-Mart SuperCenter and completely restocked the pantry. We all sat down for breakfast, and it was pretty funny hearing Nana offer me more and more food because she still thinks I'm a growing boy when I'm six foot two, 250 pounds, and twenty-seven years old. All the while, we let Papa sleep in. Again, it wasn't the same without him.

Because of all that food, I was still full when I met Nicky for lunch. We talked for about an hour and a half. For once we talked about him almost all the time. He's been having trouble with his new boyfriend, Charles. Most of the trouble stems from the fact that Charles is still in the closet, and that any time they get together, it's only at Nicky's house or at the local gay bar. Nicky is paranoid that maybe Charles is hiding something, or is ashamed of their relationship. My heart goes out to the guy. He was on the verge of tears.

He had to go to work, so we said our goodbyes and I headed down the street to the internet cafe to update the blog. This afternoon, Nana wants to go to the mall for some shopping.

Dirty Laundry

2005-09-22T21:13:00.000-07:00

If I'm gonna go away for the weekend, I gotta plan ahead for certain things, such as my cat. Because of his allergies, and the fact that I won't be able to give him his medicine, he's gonna have to stay inside. So, I went and bought an automatic feeder for him and set it up in the kitchen. While I was at PetsMart (or is it PetSmart?), I bought an auto-scooping litterbox and a small water fountain to keep the cat in fresh water for a couple days. Here's hoping he doesn't just piss all over the place.

Tonight, I do laundry. In the bulk amount I have to do, I can either a) stay up all night doing it here b) take it with me and do it at my grandparents' house or c) take it all to the laundromat tonight. I opted for c.

Unfortunately, so did everyone else in town. I had to wait 45 minutes to get a triple- and double-loader to get all the laundry done in one shot. i occasionally made eyes with this girl reading a book while drying her clothes. I kinda wanted to say something to her, but I was too much of a chickenshit. The only dryers available were across the room from the washers, and along the way, I accidentally dropped a pair of wet boxers. Guess who picked them up and handed them to me?

What an ice breaker that was. Out of embarassment, I bought her a soda and haded it to her saying "sorry you had to touch my underwear." She smiled at me, thanked me for the soda and said it was no trouble. I hung back, and waited for the right moment to go and talk to her. However, she just threw her dry clothes in a laundry bag and left. I was kinda hoping to talk to her while she folded her clothes.

I kinda take it as a sign. Maybe "she touched my underwear" is a good way to start the how-I-met-your-mother story to my future kids.

Once I got home, I finished watching CSI, and felt kinda guilty for even thinking about flirting with that girl when just 24 hours ago, I was obsessing over Grace.

Maybe I'm more screwed up than I thought I was.

Hang ups

2005-09-21T20:16:00.000-07:00

Since I was gonna be in Fort Smith this weekend, I figured it would be a good thing to give Nicky a call and see if he wanted to catch luch while I'm in town this weekend. We ended up talking for a couple hours about what has happened since the last time I was in town a few weeks ago.

Grace has been asking Nicky about me, since she found out he and I have been in touch. She apparently has been acting all cool about the situation, but Nicky says she's just putting up a front. He tells me it's too soon for me to talk to her, that it's the same thing as when Jeff tried to talk his way back into the house after the first time he got physically abusive. She has a period of adjustment that has to take place where any decision is gonna be second-guessed later.

But wait a minute, it's been almost three weeks. How long is this period of adjustment gonna take? Besides, if she's as impressionable as Nicky is making her out to be, shouldn't this work in my favor? I just want her to know the truth about me, and not the jerk that jeff has always made me out to be...How could she possibly regret knowing the truth about me?

I asked Nicky for her number, and Nicky refused to give it to me. So, after I got off the phone with him, I called directory assistance.

I called her. It rang and rang, until voice mail picked up. It got through the outgoing message, then the beep, and I hung up. About an hour later, I felt like I should call her again, but decided against it. But, then again, if she's gonna second guess any decision during this time, being a stalker would be a good one for her to forget.

I keep feeling like I should call her. I should call her, but I really, really shouldn't. Dammit.

Gulp!

2005-09-19T18:42:00.000-07:00

Well, I may be heading back to Fort Smith sooner than I previously thought. Instead of never, it'll be this weekend. I got a call from my grandmother and she reminded me that my grandfather's birthday is this weekend. From her answer to the question "How's he doing?"...this might be his last.

It's been a few months since I saw him. It was my cousin's wedding. He didn't look so hot back then. That was just after he got news about a relapse. According to my grandmother, the chemo hasn't been easy on him. He's weak and in constant pain. It was hard to see him in the condition he was in back then. I can only imagine how he looks now.

About fifteen years ago, my dad passed away, and Papa stepped in as father figure. He really helped me through that difficult time, and the fact that I treated him with such disdain for no other reason than simply being a teenager. Then, a few years later, I leave town altogether. Another reason I never went back, and what's worse is that every moment I spend away, the harder it is to say I'm sorry.

I'm leaving Friday night, and until then, I'm preparing myself for the worst.

Not going home anytime soon

2005-09-18T13:22:00.000-07:00

Saturday night, I made a promise to myself that I would go out, alone, and not come home until at least three in the morning. The catch was, I couldn't allow myself to go anywhere that I went with my ex. The time has come for me to find my own places in this town.

This little plan of mine was going great for a couple hours. I went out for a bite to eat, where Denny's seemed like the most logical place one can eat alone and not get a second glance. Then, a little bit of pinball at the arcade, where I had a group of teenagers kept watching me play...Since when is pinball a spectator sport?

It was when I went to the first bar, that it all went to shit, and I ran into my ex's best friend, and not one of the good ones. She's a bit of a social intelligence officer. Every word that she says is suspect, with the purpose of starting shit with or about someone else. I had just gotten my drink when she spotted me and came over to talk to me. I instantly regretted ordering a large Heineken, a beer that was specifically designed to gag and choke anyone who tries to chug it. Damn those Dutch bastards.

I tried my best to keep the conversation brief. I just nodded, and kept very quiet. Fortunately, A friend of hers came over and interrupted us, giving me a chance to leave. I left half of my beer behind.

I didn't go straight back ot my car. Instead, I went for a walk. I got asked for spare change about twelve times, but I didn't care. It was a nice night, and I stopped on this bridge as a a train went underneath. I had a smoke and imagined two guys having a fist fight on top of the train. Then a bum asked me for some change and I went back to my car.

I drove around for the rest of the night. I saw all the groups haning out. The preppies on the south side, the Goths downtown, the college kids of midtown, etc. I went home feeling kinda weird, like an outcast because I don't fit in with the groups I saw out and about tonight. Yet, I felt kinda good, unique, like I'll never be like them. Conflicted, oh, a tad.

Grin & bear it

2005-09-14T19:13:00.000-07:00

I got Cody back from the vet, and as it turns out, this cat has allergies. I have to feed him a pill every day until the vet tells me to stop. The problem is, this cat is all cuddly and cute until you have to force a pill down his throat, then he's like an epileptic Tazmanian devil that's high on angel dust.

Cat scratches aside, today was so-so. there was a bit of turbulance at work, but overall everything went smoothly. Had a great lunch downtown with my boss. Not only did he pick up the tab, but he bought me a beer. He tried to get me to talk about what's been bothering me, but I felt weird talking to him about it. I just told him it was a little girl trouble, and I left it at that.

I went out for a few drinks tonight, and I wound up playing shuffleboard with this girl down at the bar. She and I got to talking, I bought her a couple drinks. I was kinda surprised how well things were going. I would've thought my heart was clearly on my sleeve, and that I had "depressed and heart-broken" written all over my forehead. The conversation flowed freely, I was funny, strangely charming, and I was on a roll...until she mentioned her boyfriend...her CURRENT boyfriend. At that point, I didn't know what was going on. I guess I went into unconscience nod-and-smile mode.

And I thought I was making progress.

The three stages of ugh

2005-09-13T22:29:00.000-07:00

I tooka a long lunch to take Cody to the vet. I had no way of knowing if this cat had it's shots or not, but the Vet said they'd run some tests. I guess this is a step forward for me, I'm accepting responsibility for another living thing. Eek!

So, I have a night totally to myself, not even a cat to bother me...that is until Sid called me. I forgot to call him like I said I would. All he wanted to talk about was the Grace debacle. He called while I was walking around the mall, So it was nice to see other people react to my increasing depression. Ugh...

After the mall, I stopped off at the bookstore for a coffee. That one girl I flirted with was there, and either that's her selling attitude all the time, or she's kinda into me. I'm too screwed up to tell. She saw that I was a little bummed and she tried to cheer me up. I bought a couple magazines and went home. Double-ugh...

I left the TV on as I fell asleep, and woke back up during a rerun of the Simpsons, the one where Principal Skinner gets dumped by Edna Krabapple. I found myself relating to it in a way that made me feel incredibly uncomfortable. Triple-ugh...

Somebody help me.

New Week, New Attitude

2005-09-12T21:11:00.000-07:00

I started my day and my week with newfound vigor. I tackled my workload and finished up by 1:00. I spent the rest of my day cleaning and rearranging my office. I found that the attitude was contageous, and my boss and two other people took to rearranging their offices.

I stayed for about an hour after work to get a jump on tomorrow. Then it hit me, am I being proactive, or do I just want to be distracted from my personal that bad? I dropped what I was doing, and went out for something completely unhealthy at Metro Diner. After downing the three-way chili, a chocolate malt and about half a roll of Tums, I drove around for an hour or so before going home.

Cody the cat was glad to see me, of course, and even happier to see the dry cat food I poured for him. After the cat had his dinner, I let him in while I watched a movie. Blade Runner, one of my favorites. There was one line that I guess I never payed much attention to, but I found myself rewinding to hear it again and again. "The light that burns twice as bright burns half as long, and you have burned so very very brightly, Roy."

That got me to thinking about hope. I've had many instances in my life where I've lost hope, almost to the point of no return. It may seem like that at times nowadays, but something's keeping me going. Father Edward back home would tell me that God is testing me. While I appreciate the thought that I'm being tested, I can't help but think that I keep going simply to piss off those who put me down in the first place.

But then, I thought about that line, and maybe one day the light will burn out. I gotta stop thinking like that.

I haven't heard from Sid for a couple days. I should give him a call, but not tonight.

Pity party

2005-09-10T10:11:00.000-07:00

Ever since Monday, I've shut out the world around me. At work, I've only allowed enough human contact to get the job done. Coming home, I would lock the door behind me and not open it until I had to leave the next morning. I've left about twenty phone calls unanswered. Calls from my mom, my grandmother, Sid and Nicky. Nicky called me the most, leaving voice mails telling me to call him, sometimes right away, sometimes whenever I can.

So, I finally called him back, last night. He told me how Jeff had called the police, claiming assault. A witness reported that it was Jeff who threw the first punch. I would've maybe suspected Grace to be that witness, maybe Sam, but in an unprecedented move, it was Clara. That blew me away. I could've been facing jail time, and she stood up for me. Then again, She probably had a lesser-of-two-evils moment.

As for Grace, I didn't ask. Nicky said that she's doing okay, and that she's being very quiet about what happened Sunday night. I didn't press the subject. I screwed up, and this time it's irreversable. Period.

Nicky argued that idea. He said he's pulling for me. I told him it's a lost cause. I told him I'd keep in touch, but don't be expecting me to be coming back anytime soon.

I know I'm being hard on myself. The pity party is entering its fifth day. After graduation, the party lasted two months. I've got time.

Hitting the fan

2005-09-05T21:13:00.000-07:00

I've had to take a few hours after saying goodbye to Sid this afternoon to reflect on the events of this past weekend, because it went extremely sour at the end.

I got the call from Grace yesterday, shortly after my last post. She said she had some family stuff to do in the afternoon, but she'd love to have dinner with me. Just she and I...For the first time in years, I was giddy. Seriously giddy.

After grabbing a bite to eat, Nicky, Sid and I went all over town doing absolutely nothing, and I really mean that. Absolutely nothing. We went to the mall, but didn't buy anything. We we went to the park, but only sat in the car talking for an hour. We went back to the hotel room and watched TV. Absolutely nothing. And it was great.

Around six, I got another call from Grace. She said she had some bad news, and was wondering if this whole dinner thing be a double-date with Clara and Sam. I said okay, but I was kinda pissed. Much like in high school, Clara is Grace's shadow, constantly hanging around because she either has no life, or feels like Grace needs some sort of protection. This little move of tagging along, I feel, is maybe a bit of both, given the historical perspective.

Once I showed up at the restaurant (which was within walking distance of the hotel), I could see that Grace was not pleased at the situation, either. Clara was doing her thing, demanding attention, interrupting me and everyone else. We all just kept nodding, pretending to agree with her, trying not to rile her up. Sam just kept agreeing with her, in that pathetic way that just screams I HOPE I GET LAID TONIGHT. Lots of fun.

Right as our food got to the table, Grace's phone started to ring off the hook. The first couple times, she would just check the Caller ID and switch it over to voice mail. After the third time, frustrated, she excused herself from the table to go outside. As she walked away, we heard her very agitated voice answer with, "WHAT NOW?" I turned to Clara and asked, "Ex-husband?" She nodded yes, and that was the end of that conversation. I soon excused myself to go after Grace.

Once I got outside, Grace was on the verge of tears. She was explaining to her ex that she was having dinner with friends, if it was any of his business, which it wasn't. She had a few more bitter exchanges before she hung up. I went up to her to comfort her, and it was strange to, first of all, to offer her a hug, secondly to have her accept without any hestiation. She had a good cry into my shoulder, and I kissed her forehead before we gathered our composure and went back inside.

Sensing we could use some comfort food, I ordered some cake for dessert. Grace and I split a slice, while Clara and Sam did the same. It was so nice for a number of reasons, but mostly because it shut Clara up enough to allow Grace and I to share this moment in peace and quiet.

Then, all hell broke loose.

I looked up at the front of the restaurant just in time to catch Jeff Mallard walking in the door. I hadn't seen that dude in years, and boy he looked pissed. Then, I noticed he was coming right over to our table. My confusion ove the situation lasted all of thirty seconds with Jeff looking straight at Grace and saying, "You fucking hang up on ME?!?"

Clara stands up and gets right in his face. I take Grace by the arm and we rush out the back of the restaurant. Grace immediately took the defensive, saying how she was wanting to tell me about Jeff, how sorry she was for hiding this from me, etc. I was still in shock, feeling like I had walked right into an episode of the Twilight Zone.

I stood there slackjawed. Jeff. My biggest rival in high school. The guy who stole this woman away from me, this I knew and accepted. But marriage? Children? This was beyond...beyond BEYOND! I don't know the words to describe how I feel about this. It's been almost an entire day, and I'm still in total shock.

The rest of this happened so fast that I'm writing this mostly to try to remember what happened. Clara came bursting out the door, followed closely by Jeff. She tried to stop him at the door, but he pushed her aside like a rag doll. I got right in his face, standing in his way of Grace. Everything came at once. All the shit he pulled in high school, the way he turned everyone against me back then, all the crap Grace told me he put her through, all of that piktted up in my stomach as I told him, "I think it'd be best if you leave, now."

This was that fine line between being polite and diplomatic and being a total pussy. He wouldn't budge. In fact, he took a step closer. We stared into each other's eyes for a few seconds before I felt something hit me upside my head. After falling to the ground for a second, I shook it off and got back up, and got right back in his face again. I've kicked his ass before, I could do it again. He punched me again, but I stayed on my feet. This is where it all gets a little hazy. The last thing I remember clearly is Sam pulling me off of Jeff. Grace was gone, and Clara wasn't saying a word. She just just tokk Sam by the arm and they walked off.

I left Jeff on the ground and walked away.

I walked past the hotel and in the direction of Grace's house. It was about six miles away, so it took me about an hour and a half witht he way my head was feeling. I opened the squeaky gate at the bottom of the staircase leading up to her apartment and the porch ligh came on. Grace opened the front door, but stayed behind the screen door. I stayed at the bottom of the stairs.

It was atr this moment, that I went too far, that I scared her, that I hadn't changed at all since that fight in the schoolyard nine and a half years ago. If there's anything I've learned in the failed relationships I've had in the time since then, it's when it's best not to say anything. I was just about to say something when a little boy came up beside Grace. She picked him up. He looked at me and said hi.

I responded with a "Hello, little guy, what's your name?" With his mouth full of his own fingers, he said his name was-I think-Ben. Grace wrapped it all up by saying she had to get Ben back to bed. Before she could close the door, I told her I was sorry. For everything leading up to that moment, and probably everything afterward. I have blown it...again.

I walked for another hour or so before I ended up at the hotel. I walked in to find Sid and Nicky raiding the mini-bar. I told them what happened, as best as I could recall, and we drank until I could forget the bad parts.

In the morning, I was on the floor, Nicky was on the sofa and Sid was asleep with his torso hanging off the side of the bed. I went out for a run, and when I came back, I packed up my stuff and made Sid do the same.

We said our goodbyes to Nicky and hit the road. The sooner, the better, in my opinion. Misunderstood ten years ago, today disgraced. The only other thing I'll say is it was a quiet ride home.

Three and a Half Out of Ten

2005-09-04T09:35:00.001-07:00

We all met up for dinner at the Hamburger Barn downtown. The food isn't near as good as I remembered it back in high school. There was a weird vibe in the air that night, at least for me, because this is where I took Grace on our first official date. I doubt that she remembered that night, but I do.

After dinner, we had a few drinks, except for SId, who vowed only to drink soda all night. Clara got a little unruly a few times. She was wearing a low-cut shirt over a particularly unflattering body, but to some of these guys, breasts are breasts. Sam kept puffing up his chest to any of these guys that got back in Clara's face.

Nicky, tried to play peacekeeper, but he looked like he was gonna come unglued at any moment. Grace looked distracted all night, frequently stepping outside for phone calls. I suspected that this all had something to do with her son, or maybe her ex-husband, or both...she was being rather quiet about it.

This really wasn't the spirit of comraderie that I was expecting after the past couple nights. It this point, it was coming closer to what I was expecting before I arrived. Out of fear of being singled out and turned on, I opted to stay quiet.

Things calmed down around ten, when we made our way to the park. The last remnants of the barbequing families were leaving the park, so we were alone, all save for a group of teenagers hanging out across the pond from us. Nicky said that we should stay out in the open, because the picnic areas in the woods is the local gay sex haven. Sid was quick to point out the level of experience in Nicky's tone when he said that.

We all talked for about an hour, sitting there on the grass. Nicky was looking for a break in the conversation so that he could break out our lists. When he started to pass them out, Grace got another phone call. She walked away from the group to have a little privacy, but we could still hear her side of the conversation as she started to argue with who was on the other line. I asked Nicky and Clara about her ex husband, and they got kinda tight-lipped. They wouldn't even say the guy's name, saying he's known simply as "the prick".

Well, "the prick" wouldn't let Grace off the phone, so she eventually hung up. When he called back, she turned off her phone and rejoined the group. She was a bit shaken up as Nicky handed out the lists. I brought up that it didn't feel right to do this right now. There had been a bit too much drama to go and relive everything we may not have accomplished over the past ten years.

At this point, Sid offered a solution that we could agree on. We don't have to read them aloud unless we wanted to. So, we all sat and read our lists to ourselves, chuckling at some, groaning at others. My list went as follows:

TEN THINGS I WANT TO ACCOMPLISH BEFORE LABOR DAY WEEKEND, 2005:

1. GET OUT OF THIS TOWN. Check!
2. LEARN HOW TO PLAY THE GUITAR. It was determined in college that my fingers were far too stubby to ever play a string instrument, not to mention I can't hold rhythm for more than a minute.
3. TOUR EUROPE. The closest I came was the International House of Pancakes.
4. GET MARRIED. Why did I, at age 17, have a dream of getting married?
5. HAVE KIDS. See #4.
6. BE A SUCCESSFUL ARTIST. Well, I'm employed, so that counts as at least half.
7. BEAT MYST. That sounds more like a 17-year-old. Finished that my first week in college.
8. WRITE A BOOK. Still working on that.
9. SWIM IN BOTH ATLANTIC AND PACIFIC OCEANS. Here's another one I wonder why I had this desire at age 17. I did it, though. Florida in 1999, California in 2003.
10. SEE THE SMASHING PUMPKINS IN CONCERT. Hell, I stopped listening to them four years before they broke up. Oh, well.

No one really shared their lists out loud, we just shared a number. Nicky was at 8, Clara was 3, Sam was 7, Grace 5, Me 3 1/2, and Sid was 10. I read his list later, I must say he aimed rather low and settled for very little.

We all sat by the pond for a while after that, not saying much, just finishing off the beer we brought with us. Sid and I called out early and went back to the hotel. On our way to the car, Grace pulled me aside, asking me when I was heading back. I knew we were needing to be back before three monday afternoon, so Sid can catch his flight at five. I told her I guess we could stay past Sunday night, and she asked if I wanted to go have dinner. I didn't hear her say the word "alone", but I guessed that's what she meant. I told her to call the hotel in the morning and we'll make plans.

That 17-year old kid inside me just screamed YIPEE!

Kill me now and I'd die happy

2005-09-03T10:59:00.000-07:00

We showed up early at Nicky's house, mostly because there was nothing else to do in town. It was good just to hang out while Nicky got everything ready for dinner. Sid was being unusually quiet. Maybe I over-embellished the events of the previous night. Perhaps he was a bit embarrassed.

Clara showed up around six, and as we found out, she lived there, too. She was relatively friendly the whole night, or she was too tired form work to be her usual bitchy self (Nicky's words, not mine).

Around seven, Sam walked in. He hadn't changed a bit, in my opinion. He looks just about the same as he did ten years ago, only with less hair. He's working as a pharmacist up in Fayetteville, and in talking to him, he really needs to get out from behind the counter more often. Nevertheless, Clara was warming up to him all night, and I'd occasionally catch Nicky rolling his eyes at the sight of his sister flirting so shamelessly.

Not long after Sam showed up, about a half an hour, Clara left to go pick up Grace. Grace apologized about being late, then hesitantly explained that she wait until her father got home so he could watch her son. I sensed she was afraid to talk about having a kid, for some reason. This piqued my interest, so I asked her about him. Proudly, she pulled a few pictures out of her purse. He looked like a miniature version or her, only with blonde hair instead of brown. Every picture, he's looking directly at the camera and hamming it up, big time.

Over dinner, we talked about politics, and thank God we were all pretty much on the same page on a lot of the issues. The whole night could've gone straight to hell if this had turned into a debate. After dinner, we all went into the living room. We tried having the TV on, but every channel was showing footage of people stranded in New Orleans. Grace said she had an uncle who got out at the last minute, and is staying with her dad until everything gets sorted out.

At one point, I step outside to have a smoke. Grace comes out to join me, or should i say, bum a smoke off of me (she's been tring to quit). We talk for a few minutes, then I suggested we go for a walk.

We must've walked for the good part of an hour. The conversation quickly turned into the Cliff's Notes of our respective failed relationships. I joked at first, saying that the break-up was about religious differences: I was raised Catholic, and she liked to sleep with other men. After that, I went into more detail. I realized that I had been rather tight-lipped about my breakup, but with her it all flowed out rather naturally. It felt good to get a few of these things off my chest, and it felt even better to see that she didn't mind that I was going on and on. Grace, in turn, went into the details of her ex. How he never helped out with the baby, never let her do anything outside of the house. The moment he began to enforce his rules with the back of his hand intead of screaming at her, that's when she left. I guess misery loves company.

There was a moment, though. The sun was just going down, and we had stopped walking, deciding it's time to head back. We looked each other in the eye, and everything went silent. I could've kissed her and I was 90% sure she would've let me. But, I didn't. I broke our gaze and signalled we should head back.

When we got back, the wine was flowing. Sam and Clara were dangerously close to each other. Sid and Nicky were making some sort of drinking game out of a re-run of CSI. Grace suggested dessert, so she went into the kitchen to serve up some cheesecake. I followed to help her serve.

I suddenly got curious about the reason behind the whole reunion. I remeber that we all wrote down our lists, but I don't know what happened to mine. Grace said that Nicky had held onto the lists, only he didn't find them until about two years ago. According to Nicky, we'll do the whole reading ceremony tomorrow night at the park (I love how he make things sound more official than they really are).

Around eleven, Grace had to go home, but Clara didn't want to end things with Sam. Sid looked like he was ready to go, so I volunteered to take her home on our way back to the hotel. On the way, Sid had fallen asleep. Grace told me to drop him off at the hotel first. Why, I had no idea, but I did it anyway.

At her house...or should I say garage apartment behind her father's house...she left me alone while she went down to the house to check on her son. He was fast asleep and didn't want to leave, so that just left Grace and I alone. We just talked for two hours while a movie played in the background. Around two, she was yawning uncontrollably, and I knew that I would either have to make my exit or something even more stupid like make my move. She walked me back to the car, and gave me a hug, saying she was glad to see me. Kill me now and I'd die happy.

Once back at the hotel, I cought Sid flipping channels off fo the pay-per-view porno movie I suspect he was watching. I teased him about it, and he shot right back at me with what he guessed Grace and I were doing for nearly three hours. I just layed down and went to sleep.

Morning

2005-09-02T13:08:00.000-07:00

I woke up this morning and went out for a little run around downtown. There's an old corn processing plant that spews this vile smelling smoke into the air and has since the late sixties. Gee whiz, it's good to be back home.

When I got back to the hotel room, I took a shower, got dressed, started a pot of coffee and channel surfed until I heard Sid coming back to life on the sofa. We still had another hour until we were supposed to meet Nicky downstairs for a late breakfast. Plenty of time to fill Sid in on the evening he was too drunk then and too hung over now to remember. I embellished a bit just to make the experience a little more humbling for him.

Nicky called up from the lobby to let us know that the breakfast buffet is almost over, so if we wanted to eat, now's the time. So, we went downstairs to meet him. Nicky was quick to point out that Sid was wearing the same clothes he was last night. I wolfed down a entire plate of eggs and hash browns. Nicky had some canteloupe while Sid sipped black coffee. We talked about last night, and Nicky said he got a call from Grace this morning. He kinda left it at that. I could've tried to get more information out of him, but I thought it would be best not to appear too eager.

We all made plans to meet at Nicky's house for a cookout later. For a brief moment, we considered driving north for the afternoon to get some six-point beer in Missouri, but decided against it A) because the cost of gas would be too high, and B) the last thing either of us need after last night is more alcohol.

So, we're back in the room, trying to decide what we want to do this afternoon before we go over to Nicky's. Now's as good a time as any to update the blog.

I thought we all hated each other?

2005-09-02T02:22:00.000-07:00

I'm still pretty drunk, so if this post seems a little disjointed, you'll know why.

The evening went surprisingly well, however, there was plenty of alcohol to go around. When we arrived at the bar, Nicky flagged us down from the back of the bar, where he and Clara were playing pool. My God, Nicky has changed so much. He put down his pool cue and gave me a hug, something he would've been scared shitless to do back in the day. He was always very shy and stand-offish back then and it was difficult to even get so much as a handshake from him. A lot has changed with him. He seems more outgoing, more open in his mannerisms. It's no wonder he was so excited about this whole reunion.

Clara is pretty much just like I remember her: Extremely sarcastic, almost to the point of being hateful. Like most bitter things in this world, she seems to have only gotten worse with age. Back in high school, she was just being a teenager. Today, she's had the life experience needed to justify the attitude.

We all got to drinking and chatting about whatever, but things didn't start to get personal until Grace showed up.

I only hope she didn't think I was some kind of creep by the way I kept looking at her all night. She is just beautiful. I always remember the way she carried herself as a teenager, and she hasn't lost that as she's gotten older. She was, however, quieter I thought than the enthusiatic speaker I once knew.

We all started a game of doubles pool with Nicky and Clara on one team and Sid and I on the other. Clara, in a strategic move, always timed the personal questions for my shot. She asked about my life in Tulsa, about my relationships, about my career...all rather bluntly, I might add, and kinda threw a bucket of ice water on the good times when she did so. I did my best to answer her questions without being rude or being bitter in front of Grace, but I could tell Grace was getting increasingly uncomfortable. She stepped outside at one point, she said, to make a phone call.

I took Nicky aside to talk in private. I wanted to get some information out of him about Grace. The short of it is, she's divorced, has a five-year-old son, and she's back in school now finishing up her Master's. After a while, it seemed she wasn't coming back, so I excused myself to get a breath of fresh air. Once outside, I saw that she was still on the phone, arguing with whomever was on the other end. I lit up a smoke, making sure to stay just out of earshot. I have a feeling I didn't want to know what this was all about.

When she hung up, she looked a bit rattled. I asked if everything was okay, and she said yes, then abruptly changed the subject back to me. She sat down on the curb, then grabbed my arm for me to sit next to her. She asked me about my life, and I must admit, my response was about 80% bullshit. I did everything in my power to hide my anxiety over the fact that here was the girl I believed I once loved, a girl that I really REALLY screwed things up with, and nine years later, We're sitting really REALLY close to one another on the curb outside a bar having a rather pleasant conversation as if nothing had ever happened.

Before I had a chance to ask her about her life, Clara came out with another bucket of ice water. So, we went back inside, had some more drinks and played some more pool. Clara kept asking questions, but Nicky kept trying to get her to shut up. I had been drinking my usual Jaeger shots and Guinness all night, but Grace had ordered a round of her shot of choice, Jamesons whisky. You know, the Irish in me was ready to fall in love with this girl all over again, just for her choice in alcohol.

Around half past midnight, we all kinda tapered off of alcohol, except for Clara and Sid, who drank enough for the rest of us put together. I had never seen Sid, or anyone for that matter, THAT drunk in my entire life. I knew that whether he'd be puking his guts out, or passed out, or both, I'd have to drive his ass back to the hotel. Fortunately, he just passed out. Which meant the wonderful conversation I was intermittantly having with Grace would be cut short.

And that's how the night ended, with me carting Sid's drunk ass up to the room, dropping him on the sofa as I update the blog while the events are fresh in my mind.

One thing is for certain: I was pretty much wrong in hating these people all these years. Sid was right, they seem to have forgotten all about what happened, or at the very least, put it all behind them. We'll be meeting Nicky tomorrow morning for a late breakfast, so even thought the evening came to a rather abrupt end, it's only a to-be-continued until tomorrow.

Welcome back

2005-09-01T15:06:00.000-07:00

Even though my boss gave me the day off, I went into the office for a couple hours to get some work done. It's the least I could do for the favor of lett me off for a couple days on a moment's notice. Around ten, he told me to get the hell out, and he'll see me on Tuesday.

I got back home just after Sid woke up. We got everything loaded up and hit the road. The trip down, we listened to a couple mix CDs Sid whipped up of music we listened to back in the day. Most of them we were rocking out to, while some of them made us cringe they were so damn cheesy.

We were there in no time. We pulled into the hotel and listened to one more song before going inside.

Jesus, my needs are pretty simple sometimes. Once we got to the hotel, I totally geeked out over the free internet. Anyway, we dropped off our stuff in the room and went for a drive.

Most of the old stomping grounds are still there, but most of the places we went to because they were all run down and really good for listening to the Cure are now upscale shopping centers. All of the cool places we went to mock the conformists are now the run down places. It's like an alternate reality.

Sid had the horrible idea of driving past my old house, only to see that it's been razed into a parking lot. Ironic, really because my mom used to yell at us for parking on the lawn. My folks moved out of town after I went to college. Going to their new house doesn't feel like home at all. It was kinda depressing to be standing on ashpalt where my old kitchen used to be.

I suggested we get seriously bummed and visit Sid's old home, even though his family moved as well. He reminded me that they all lived in a trailer. When they moved, they really moved. I guess it's all a sign that you can never go home.

We had skipped lunch, so Sid suggested Emily's Restaurant. This was a place we spent a lot of time at as teenagers, mostly because Nicky worked there and got us the occasional free appetizer. Once we were seated, we both decided to play an old game we used to play whenever we went to a place we hadn't been to in a while. We'd each fake a mental illness, just to mess with the wait staff. Sid called dibs on Kleptomania, which is what I was gonna call. My moment of cursing him led me to deciding on Tourette's Syndrome. I'd pepper my conversation with little outbursts, being careful not to piss off the management, while Sid was filching silverware and the occasional salt shaker. It was a welcome distraction from all of the anxiety I've had about this trip.

We got the call from Nicky and made plans for drinks with everyone later. Ugh...deep breath, deep breath, calm blue ocean.

Everything must go, including me

2005-09-01T00:39:00.000-07:00

After we finished with the movie, Sid and I had a couple cigarettes and talked about the whole breakup. He has a real talent for getting to the truth of the matter. It's a byproduct of knowing me for over twenty years. He knows when I'm hiding something.

My bluff got even harder to hold up when my boss called me. He reconsidered, and said that anything I needed to do could wait until Tuesday morning. Well, shit. I didn't tell Sid right away. I didn't want to let go of my only bargaining chip.

We got back to the breakup. It's strange that this was the preferable topic of conversation. After a while, we got to the heart of the matter. I wasn't happy in the relationship, neither was she. Things were getting progressively worse day by day, and the breakup was an all-too-welcome change. I said I was okay with it all. I'm on my own again, and I don't need that kind of drama.

Sid cried foul. He said I was in denial. He was trying to get a rise out of me. He said that if I was really okay with all of this, then why did I have mementoes of the relationships all over my new place?

Man, I hate to admit when the dude has a point. At least half of the things on my shelves were acquired during the relationship. I'm a 27-year-old man, and I have a Valentine's Beanie Baby on my entertainment center. I still have pictures of her hanging around. I have Sleepless in Seattle on DVD.

Again Sid makes some solid points. Am I really over her? Hell, we broke up less than three weeks ago, so the answer is obviously no. However, I am happier without her. Do I still think of her? Yes I do, but they're not happy thoughts. What triggers these thoughts? A lot of these things lying around might just be the answer to that.

So, Sid and I set about cleansing the place of any shred of her memory. All the stuffed animals, pictures, everything with the smallest touch of femininity must go in the trash. We've been tossing stuff in a huge garbage bag for about an hour, and we're about to carry it all out to the dumpster and lay it to rest. I must admit, it feels good. I finally understand minimalism.

Sid's been right so far, so I finally concede. I'm gonna go with him to this reunion thing. Who knows, it could be fine. If not, we'll be driving back early. It's pretty much win/win at this point.

Although, I'm getting pretty good at bullshitting myself.

Persuasion

2005-08-31T19:59:00.000-07:00

As it turned out, when Sid told me when his flight was gonna be in, he gave me eastern time, not central. So, when he called me and told me he was at my front door, I was still at Borders drinking my coffee. I told him to wait for me while I drive home. Twenty minutes later, I got home, and spent all of thirty seconds in my apartment before it was decided that dinner was in order.

I gotta hand it to the guy, I made it halfway through my chicken nachos before Sid asked me if I was sure I didn't want to go with him. I was sure. His big persuasive arguement? "Aw, c'mon!"

I laid all my cards on the table, telling him every reservation I have over the whole thing, and he matched me, point by point.

ME: Those people were the whole reason I left that God-forsaken town.
SID: It was ten years ago.
ME: Yes, and aside from Nicky, does anyone else even want me to be there?
SID: I'm sure that they do.
ME: Do any of them know if I'm coming?
SID: Yes, I believe they do...I mean, I'm pretty sure.
ME: I just don't think anything has changed between me and them.
SID: Look, I got it just as bad as you did back then, and I still want to go.
ME: I still think this is a bad idea.
SID: Prove me wrong.
ME: I gotta work.
SID: So, ask your boss for the rest of the week off.

This went on for fifteen minutes before we hit an uncomfortable silence. It was at this moment that I gave him a hypothetical: If I were able to get the next two days off, and I were to go along with you on this, what kind of guarantees do I have?

Sid accused me of extortion, I told him that if he was really wanting me to do something I really didn't want to do, that there would be a few things I would need to have happen, or else he should just drop it completely. He humored me.

1) He should pay for hotel. He's already getting a hotel room for himself, why not upgrade to a suite?
2) He should pay for meals. I told him I eat light.
3) He should pay for drinks. If things go as smoothly as he's thinking it will, I won't be needing very much alcohol to get myself through it.
4) Escape plan: The first sign of any serious trouble, we get the hell out of town.
5) I reserve the right to change the rules if the situation demands it.

After a long moment of consideration, he told me he'd consider everything except the last one. Then he turned the tables. If this deal was to even be considered, I'd have to call my boss and ask about time off.

It was a long shot, but I called my boss' cell phone. I told him I had something come up, and asked him if he really needed me the next couple days. He told me that we'd take a look at the workload in the morning. Sid was watching me talk on the phone, so I made the news look really bad so as not to give him a ray of hope. I told him the answer was a definite maybe.

After getting off the phone, we headed back to my place. Sid surveyed my DVD collection and has been watching a movie while I update the blog. There's a 90% chance I'll have to go through with this, and all because I tried to bluff.

Back in the saddle

2005-08-30T21:24:00.000-07:00

Things were a little slow at work, so my boss let me takee a long lunch. I grabbed some Quizno's, then walked down the block to the bookstore. There were a few books that I was looking for, books I used to own, but lost them in the breakup property dispute.

There was this ultra-nice brunette who worked there, and she was helping me track down these books. By the time we were about halfway down my list, she was totally flirting with me. The more frightening part was, I was flirting back.

It turns out that one of the books I was looking for was out of print, but she was kind enough to try to find a copy online and special order it for me. I don't care if she works on commission, I left that store feeling like a king.

I came home tonight after dinner to find Cody waiting for me on the doorstep. I completely forgot to pick up some more cat food for him. Fortunately, I had some chicken fajitas left over in a doggie bag (ha!), so a couple strips of lime chicken and that cat was in heaven.

In a rare event, I called Sid (he usually calls me first), gave him directions to my place, and found out what time his flight should be in. Which reminds me, I need to clean up this place...or I could just leave it a pig sty and just have my friend deal with it. Quite the quandary...

Cody

2005-08-29T20:23:00.000-07:00

I got off work a little early and went for a run along the river. When I got back to my place, the kitty was back again. Every night now, seven p.m.; you could set your watch to this cat. I guess he's mine now. I have named him Cody, short for co-dependant.

It's kinda nice having something to take care of. It helps take my mind off of some of my own needs and wants and gotta-haves. Although, I feel kinda guilty that I can't afford to take Cody to the vet anytime soon.

With all the hoopla of moving into my new place, I took it upon myself to make a few phone calls, giving people an update. I called my brother, some old friends, and my grandmother. She was the one I was dreading. She never liked my ex, and she objected to the idea of us "living in sin". She barely hesitated to say "I told you so". I just sat back and took my mild abuse, knowing full well that I could end it simply by asking about my uncle, who just married his sixth wife, and this one's a Protestant. If the subject ever comes up, you could hear her eyes roll over the phone.

While I talk to my Grammy, tha Call Waiting beeps three times. One unknown, one Sid, the other Nicky. I won't be returning the calls tonight.

So now, I pop in a DVD, plop down on the couch and hang out with Cody until it's time to let him outside for the night.

Looks like company's coming.

2005-08-28T21:26:00.000-07:00

I was in the middle of my Sunday night marathon of Simpsons, Family Guy and American Dad, when Sid called me...again.

He was just looking online, and determined it would be a lot cheaper for him for fly to Tulsa, rent a car and drive to Fort Smith for next weekend rather than fly in direct. He's booked his flight for Wednesday night, and has asked if he could stay at my place that night, and drive down on Thursday. I hadn't seen him in almost two years, so at the very least, I'll get a reunion I actually would like to be a part of.

Plus, he's flying back out of Tulsa on Monday, so we'll shoot for lunch before he heads back.

Other than that not much going on.

Callbacks

2005-08-28T12:06:00.000-07:00

Now it's for sure: Nicky and Sid are tag-teaming in trying to talk me into going. I've talked to Sid every few days for years, but I haven't heard from Nicky in nine years, and all of a sudden I talk to him five times in three days.

It's been nice hearing from Nicky, though. Back in high school, he was such a little neurotic. Just from the sound of his voice, he sounds like he's done so much better for himself. I mean, high school can be hell for anyone, but it must've been double so for Nicky. He was gay. So gay, in fact, that it was impossible to hide...He practically had rainbow colored fireworks shooting off behind him all the time. And this was Small Town, Southern State, USA. I can only imagine how hard it was for him. None of us in "the group" cared. In a lot of ways, we were the only ones to which he could be himself, although we did kinda tease him when he'd try to butch it up. Nothing really cruel, just a who're-you-kidding kinda thing.

His twin sister Clara was the complete opposite; a tomboy, even. Some even went so far as to accuse her of being a lesbian, but only got so far as to call her a "DY-" before she would start beating them senseless. But according to Nicky, she's not gay. Turns out, she's just a bitch.

As I said, it's been nice catching up with Nicky. I might consider going back home if it was just to visit with him. Unfortuanately, this whole thing is a package deal. Sure, There's Sid and Nicky, but there's also Clara, Sam, Jeff...and Grace. I don't know if Nicky managed to track down Alex, who had to go back to Ireland rather abruptly halfway through the school year, and no one's heard from him sense. Clara, I could completely do without. She was the one that organized the whole screw-you on graduation day. Sam, I could give a rat's ass about. He rode the fence throughout the whole mess and waited to see who came out on top, the spineless bastard.

I might even go back for Grace, but if I ever see her again it'll probably be with my tail between my legs. I really screwed up big time with her, and I've regretted it ever since. I probably would've been okay if it weren't for Clara. She took a simple misunderstanding and blew it way out of proportion, effectively ruining any chance I had with Grace.

Then, there's Jeff. I can't remember if he was involved in this little reunion pact or not. I'm pretty sure he wasn't. He was always too stuck up to be a part of anything so sentimental. I remember he used to egg me on every day, trying to get a rise out of me. He succeeded several times, and I always mananged to put him in his place...at the cost of making myself look like the bad guy.

This is what turned Grace away from me, and everyone else against me. Jeff started beating up on Nicky one time. I pulled Jeff away and started beating the crap out of him. That's when everyone else showed up. Sid tried to break it up, but I pushed him aside and focused right back on Jeff. I though I saw Sid coming back, so I pushed him down, hard. As it turns out, it was Grace the second time. Clara saw this and went ballistic. I had just knocked Jeff out when Clara jumped on me, pulling out a large clump of my hair and scalp. I got her off of me, and I found myself in a true lose-lose situation: do I walk away a coward, or do I fight and be the biggest asshole in the world for fighting a girl?

Clara lunged at me, and I put my arms up to defend myself. I remember her face running right into my elbow as I pushed her aside. it was at that moment, I saw Grace sitting on the ground, looking up at me. She scuttled backwards, trying to get away from me and stand up at the same time. I ran after her, trying to explain myself. When she got into her car, I in front of her car to keep her from driving off. She put it in reverse and drove onto the curb and away from me.

For the rest of the school year, the only words she ever spoke to me were scripted lines from drama class. This was particularly hard, because it meant she even refused to do any improvisation with me, which she and I both were REALLY good at.

I stayed a ghost the rest of the year, speaking only to Sid and Nicky...Everyone else formed the "No Declans Club". Clara tried to file assault charges against me, as did Jeff, but neither could prove that I wasn't defending myself or Nicky. Sam decided that there more people on their side than mine, so that's that. Grace took pity on Jeff, and by the end of the school year, they were a couple.

After graduation...before the caps were thrown into the air...I made a beeline for my car and went home. No graduation parties, no celebration, nothing. I enrolled in summer courses rather than wait until fall, so within two weeks, I had left town for college, not letting anyone from the group know I was gone.

Sid managed to track me down about a year later, and we've been in contact ever since. We've never reall spoken about the falling out until now. It's just good to know that no matter what, He's got my back.

Maybe I should explain...

2005-08-26T17:54:00.000-07:00

I just realized that I just rambled on rather vaguely as to why I don't want to go.

Ten years ago, I was just starting my senior year. Me and my friends were all coffee house poseurs. We'd all stay up late, drinking coffee at Denny's or Shoney's or Village Inn...whatever was open and willing to put up with our crap. We would read Kerouac and Ginsberg as if we actually knew what the hell they meant. We'd smoke clove cigarettes...or should I say, we shared a pack of clove cigarettes because we couldn't afford them on our own. We'd wear dark clothing, and listen to way too much Smashing Pumpkins

But by the start of senior year, things were starting to change for us. The whole non-conformist thing was getting a bit old. So, we trashed the black and started wearing colors. The clove cigarettes switched to much-cheaper generic lights, and we started to integrate into society.

So, a couple weeks after school started, it was Labor Day weekend. We were all becoming aware of how we were all changing, so this was gonna be our last big hoorah, or perhaps ho-hum, of our dark, misunderstood youth. Sunday night, we all met up at the lake. Our buddy Sam scored some pot off of his cousin, and we all got high (sorta, it was weak shit), and started talking about the future...again, like we knew what it meant.

In our weak buzz, we made this pact to meet up ten years later and read the lists of everything we wanted to accomplish in the next ten years. Whatever.

Later that year, we all had a huge falling out. Long story short, everyone except Sid told me to go to Hell on graduation day. Screw them.

Blast from the past

2005-08-26T17:31:00.000-07:00

I've been waiting two days to hear back from Sid, but it turns out he didn't need to call me back. I ended up getting a call from my old pal Nicky, whom I hadn't spoken to in about nine years. I figured this would have something to do with the ten-year reunion next summer, but it didn't.

As soon as he asked me if I remembered the lists we all wrote out ten years ago, I knew exactly why he was calling. Ten years ago, the beginning of senior year, a bunch of us wrote up lists of everything we wanted to accomplish before...well, what would be this next weekend, Labor Day, 2005.

The plan was for all of us to meet back up and go over our lists, to see how what we've done with our lives. I really don't think it's a good idea to do it, and I didn't need to tell Nicky why. You see, all of us that did this, made this pact when we were best friends, which we weren't by the time graduation came around.

Nicky kept reminding me that it was ten years ago, which I knew...that it was all in the past, which I agreed...and that everyone's looking forward to seeing me there (apparently I was the last holdout), which I doubted. I told him I'd have to think about, which I won't.

As soon as I got off the phone with Nicky, I called the sneaky bastard-I mean, Sid-for a little bitch session about this. He, of all people, should understand why I don't want to go. He told me that it's been ten years, and that I should let it go, sounding like he and Nicky were practicing this little ambush.

I've thought about it, and I'm not going. That's it.

Cryptic Messages

2005-08-24T20:17:00.000-07:00

I had to work late tonight, so I didn't hear my phone when Sid called me again. He left this short, cryptic message about me needing to keep Labor day weekend open. I tried calling him back, but there was no answer. In case I hadn't mentioned it before, I freakin' hate leaving messages.

The really weird thing about his voicemail was that he had this whole "you know what I'm talking about" kinda tone. And then, he won't bother answering his phone when I call him back. I even made sure to call him before nine (ten for him, since he's in New Jersey nowadays.)

In other news, I got woken up really early this morning by a cat meowing just outside my door. I opened the door and this skinny orange cat just lept up onto my chest and dug it's claws deep into my flesh. It didn't know whether to try to calm it down or drop kick the thing. I just let it wander around my apartment while I get ready for work. When I went down to the QuikTrip for my morning coffee, I picked up some fancy feast for the kitty. I made sure to feed it outside, just in case the landlord starts snooping around.

I'm thinking a sick day may be in order tomorrow, if I feel like it in the morning. A Thursday would be a lot more inconspicuous than taking a Friday off, don't you think?

Now, the truth comes out...

2005-08-23T19:41:00.000-07:00

I got a call from my old friend Sid, whom I've forgotten to call and tell the new news. He said he pretty much got the whole story from my ex's outgoing voicemail message. We had a nice long chat, wherein he told me just why he never liked her. It was tricky timing, because Half of me is unsure what to think about it all, while the other half is agreeing with him completely.

I'm still pretty numb, so the conversation was pretty much one sided. Sid's lack of tact is an acquired taste, and having known him for over twenty years, I'm pretty much immune. I don't let it bother me.

I realized that I've been drinking quite uncharacteristically in the past eight days. Every night, I've gotten at least a bit buzzed during and after dinner. Tonight, I detox. I made myself a nice salad, took a nice long shower and was gonna wtch a movie when Sid called. At least in talking to him, I was able to cleanse myself of a few of the reasons I think I've been drinking so much lately.

In other news, I have only three more boxes left to unpack, full of all my books. However, I'll need to wait for payday so that I can go to to Home Depot and buy some bookshelves.

A fresh week

2005-08-22T19:56:00.000-07:00

After staying up all last night unpacking, I went into work this morning running on fumes. It was my turn to make the morning coffee, so I made it high octane, much to the chagrin of my co-workers. Screw 'em...I needed the boost.

I got a message from my ex, but it went unanswered. Not because I didn't have the energy, but because what's the point? There's nothing for me to say. I just grit my teeth and went about my day.

Tonight, after a couple hours playing Halo, I succumbed to the realization that my new life is turning out pretty sad. So what do I do? I go online to write about how pathetic my life is. ugh...will I ever learn?

Now, I must retire to my twin bed (what a chick magnet that is), and get as much sleep as I can.

Post Numero Uno

2005-08-21T07:09:00.000-07:00

Well, the cable internet is working, I've still got 90% of the apartment left to unpack, but that can wait. I managed to get the essentials unpacked first: toothbrush, TV, XBox, iMac, and a fresh change of clothes.

Here in about an hour, I will have been in this apartment officially 24 hours. A fresh start, you could say. Last week, I became a living cliche, having come home to find my fiancee in bed with some other guy. I made my presence known to them, then told the guy he should probably leave, which he did.

I know, you see it all the time in the movies, but in this case, there was no shouting, no "baby, please forgive me", just my fiancee knowing she was busted, and neither one of us saying a word as I packed a bag and went to a hotel.

The truth of the matter is, it has been over for some time. I've been thinking about getting out for some time, but was unsure how she felt. Well, now we know. That night, I checked into the hotel, ordered some Chinese take-out, drank half a bottle of Jaegermeister, and looked through the apartment listings.

Two days later, or five days ago today, I signed my lease, and started moving in. The only words my ex-fiancee (I'm still getting used to that term) and I have spoken to each other about has been about division of property. Who gets this, who gets that, etc. The only completely unresolved issue is: Who gets the ring? I know the rule is that whomever breaks the engagement, forfeits the ring. But in this case, I moved out, I broke it off, because she was cheating on me. Anybody out there have a ruling on this?

It's her house, and a lot of my stuff was jettisoned when I moved in, so packing up has been a snap. She even went to the trouble to pack a few boxes for me. I'm a bit surprised that they don't smell like lighter fluid.

I don't know whay I'm not feeling more hurt over all this. I guess I'm still numb. In a few days, it'll hit, I'm sure. As for right now, I've got to unpack, and I'm out of smokes.