Something Like Life

We all have our own special skills. Some were called to write. Some were called to cook. Others, still, were called to work on cars. In this post I want to focus on the last one.

Come down out of the clouds, oh sweet mechanic, and teach me your craft. My name is J and I am an up and coming writer. What’s your name? Bob? Ed? Daryl? Teach me how to work on cars and I will teach you how to construct a sentence. Show me your trade secrets and I will give you a world in which imagination knows no bounds.

Help me get my fucking car door open and I will have your babies.

I have a challenge for you, Daryll. I have a grand challenge that only you can fix. The latch to my driver’s side door came loose last week. All the screws holding the latch in place came out, they came out, THEY CAME THE FUCK OUT.

So I found myself, at work none-the-less, scrambling to get my door shut without any screws holding the latch in place. Of course it had to be on a morning where I was running about 10 minutes late.

“But bosssss! I was here, I just wasn’t in the building!”

Scrambling around I try to find a way to get my door shut so that I could sneak into my office undetected and perhaps no one would realize I was late. If only I could get my door shut! If only I could find some magic…some piece of mechanical wisdom left over from my days as a…pizza delivery driver, then maybe, just maybe, I could use it to get my door shut and get myself seated comfortably behind my desk.

In a hurry…in a flash, I seek out the contents of my trunk. Oh! My toolbox! I forgot that I put that in there! Aha! Perhaps I can find something to fix this problem.

OH. MY. GOD. My Mon Mothma! My lands! I see some screws! Oooh, they are a little small, but they barely fit. I can wedge these in there to hold the latch and when I get off work I can go buy the right screws to hold the latch. It’s perfect. The perfect plan.

Screw, screw, screw. Not like bunnies, but like Daryll the mechanic.

Slam! The door shut! I’m only 15 minutes late now! I can still scramble into my office and be cool about it. So, I scamper off and make it in for a good, solid day’s work. I bask in my cleverness and my good fortune as I go about the daily grind. I feel proud of myself and the plan that I hatched to fix my door later. I Jerry-rigged that puppy right up nice.

Yes, I know that’s not grammatically correct. Pshaw! I scoff at grammar! I don’t use grammar, grammar uses me! I am both a writer and mechanic. The master of my destiny. The king of my fate. Lord of all creation–heaven and earth. Saviour of the universe in blue jeans driving an economy car.

Time drifts by. Oh look, another day, another dollar. Until next time, my friends. Until next time! I cash out of that joint and walk proudly to my car. I fish for my keys and reach for the latch.

Tug!

I must not have grabbed it right, I think I’ll try again.

Tug!

What the fuck?

Tug! Tug! Tug!

This door…it’s…stuck.

Tug! Tug! Tug! Tug! Tug! Kick! Tug!

“Fuck you! You piece of useless garbage!”

Tug!

“I’m sorry, baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

Tug!

“You worthless whore!”

Kick!

Sigh.

Such was my fate. Such is still my fate. There are a lot of things that you take for granted until you lose them. I just never realized that the day would come that I would lose the ability to open my driver’s side door. You just can’t appreciate how nice it is to be able to pull on that latch and climb in like civilized people until you have to spend a week crawling in and out from the passenger’s side door like the Dukes of Hazard.

Teach me your craft, Daryll. Teach me your craft. I don’t want to go to you on Thursday and drop half a year’s salary because you’ll ultimately just cut my door out with the jaws of life. Teach me to be gentle. Teach me to be kind. Show me love.

If you do this one thing for me, I’ll never wish for anything else again. So help me God.

Whew! I feel better after my little rant. Now to get back to bigger and better things…like my writing.

I don’t know how many of you have heard of it, but there is a contest/challenge that is held every year called “NaNoWriMo”. It’s held in November and if you google it (cause I am too lazy) you will find information about it.

The basic premise is to write 50,000 words (about 150 pages or so) in one month. That’s like 1700 words per day (which is pretty brazen and ballsey). The whole point behind it is to get words on the page regardless of how bad or good they are. The focus is quantity and not quality, because quality comes through editting and revisions anyway. It’s a boot-in-the-ass, pick-yourself-up-and-plop-your-ass-in-the-chair, kick-me-in-the-teeth, wake up and work challenge.

Couple the idea behind this challenge with what I’ve been reading in the book I mentioned a few posts ago, I’m learning more and more to just write what I feel and think and not worry about quality initially. In fact, it got to a point at one time where I kept imagining my audience and gearing my words towards said audience instead of just writing what came naturally to me. As a result, my work suffered and my writer’s block increased.

Since I am an impatient fool, I have decided to slate the month of April for this challenge and I have even brought some other fools in with me on it. We do it because we are complete gluttons for punishment and masochists. I would be me without a little masochistic challenge once in a while, would I?

I’ve been planning it for about a week or so now and I have a good direction about where I want to go with it. I’ve targetted a teen/young adult genre and am going to try my hand at writing a less “serious” story. I’ve got a plot synopsis ready along with a cast of characters and storyline that I think rocks the shit.

Trouble is, I fear I will have to become a hermit to do this. I have been moving more towards writing with pen and paper again, but I don’t know if I can get the quantity of words in one month with pen and paper. But with pen and paper I get MOBILITY. I can write anywhere with ease and not have to worry about laptops and power and shit like that–so I could write at more scattered times during the day.

But what if my hand falls off? What if I get blisters on my fingers from writing so much? How am I going to fill this in with my moving (which I hope to start moving next week))?

I don’t feel overwhelmed…in fact, I am excited. I just doubt if I’ll reach the 50,000 word mark.

In the past when I’ve doubted myself against a challenge, I would write inspiring things to myself. I was mister positivity and I met challenges, slayed giants, brought down walls, climbed mountains, and swam rivers. Now I have a new challenge…a fresh page…and the dawning of a new day in my life.

I’m scared and excited and happy and giddy. I’m sad and angry, but hopeful and energetic. I’m ready to dance on the page and put pen to ass to meet this challenge.

This is me, signing off…saying goodbye cruel world. I am reducing myself to hermit status. I am reducing myself to that weird guy you see at the convenience store. All I need is some chaw and a real bad attitude and I will kick some ass.

Wish me luck.

No blog of mine is complete without my one or two glorious rants about feminism. Lately I’ve noticed some things on the various websites I frequent that torque my cork, get me heated, and make me scream violently.

Don’t get me wrong. The original Feministic cause and ideals were very nobel and much needed. The idea that women were servants to a man NEEDED to be changed and the feminist cause managed to do that beautifully. Getting women equal rights in the workplace: I applaud you, feminists. *stands and claps*

There are a lot of wonderful and beautiful things that feminism has done for women. This post has nothing to do with those things.

 My hatred is for Radical Feminists. The ones that don’t work for a beautiful cause for women, but work AGAINST men. Ever notice how most feminists tend to focus on MEN rather than on women? WHY IS THAT? Why would an organization/group that is meant for women and women’s causes want to focus so much on men?

I have decided to make a list of the ideals that radical feminism has perpetuated. At the end of my post I want to raise my middle finger to all radical feminists who believe this garbage and give you a big “eat shit”. Does that sound fair?

My list of ideas that radical feminism has perpetuated that I hate:

1. Men are pigs, scum, scoundrels, and lesser beings than women. This one’s an oldie but goodie. My only question, again, is why is an organization designed to focused on women and women’s rights so focused on men?

2. Male sexuality is shameful and that men are dogs because they like beautiful women. Men should like girls because of their personalities and her weight or the way she looks shouldn’t matter. Ever notice how it’s the fat, ugly bitches who say this? I rest my case.

3. Women and men are capable of doing the same things. No, they are not. There are some things that men are better at, and there are some things that women are better at. It’s a fact of life. Deal with it. Don’t try to androgenize men and women because you are afraid that one gender is trying to dominate you. Look. Men are physically stronger and as such can do physical jobs better than you. Get over it. There’s no shame in being physically weaker. Women, on the other hand, are emotionally stronger and much more perceptive (thereby making you SMARTER in a lot of ways) than men. See? There is a wonderful balance, isn’t there? Perhaps…JUST MAYBE…and I am REEEEEALLLY reaching here….but maybe that’s why men and woman seek each other out? Ever hear of Darwin? Survival of the fittest? I Ching and roll with the motherfucking punches?

4. Men are violent and brutal and that they are destroying the earth. Ever watch when two women get into a fight or are angry at each other? You think men are violent, just watch when two women are at each others throats. With men, violence consists of punching each other in the face and then going and watching the game together. Women, on the other hand, pull each other’s hair, claw each other’s eyes out, cut them to pieces behind their backs, and ruin each other. Then, after all that, they won’t talk to each other for years. And you call US violent and sick?

5. Porn is wrong and that men are sick, disgusting creatures for watching it. This goes back to sexuality, but it’s worth revisiting. First of all, most of the women who tell you this always have guy friends who NEVER look at porn. They NEVER look at a woman’s body or check out their asses as they walk by. Ladies, I hate to break it to you, but B-U-L-L-S-H-I-T. There are two types of men in this world: those who lust after woman (i.e. check you out from head to toe) and dead men. We like your bodies. That’s what attracts us to you. When you are sitting in a bar and a guy walks up to you, do you think he’s hitting on you because of your wonderful personality? NO! He wants to FUCK you. And that’s normal and right and beautiful.

The perpetual downgrading of men and men’s sexuality coupled with the other ideas I presented are a lot of the reasons why relationships and marriages fall apart. These ideals have been screamed loudly enough for long enough that it’s created a different breed of modern man. Men who are ashamed of their sexuality and become doormats to women because of an overdose of estrogenous, creepy feminism in their lives.

You can’t have it both ways, ladies. You are either going to have to accept male sexuality, male desire for “power” (no, not over YOU), etc. and realize that these are the men you are attracted to. OR you can continue to perpetuate these theories on how horrible men are for being sexual and being attracted to your body and not your personality (at least initially anyways) and watch as more and more of these doormat, nice guys come into your life that you know are perfect for you, but “just aren’t attracted to”.

Tsk, tsk…decisions. What a shame. Here is the point where I raise my middle finger and all that jazz. Take it for what it’s worth. Me? I’m going to go fuck, kill, and eat something now. Peace.

I’ve been trying to keep this blog as free as possible from the cluttered details of my personal life, but tonight I am throwing caution to the wind, taking off the Sunday shoes, and fucking celebrating.

After 9 LONNNNNNNNNNG months living with my parents (and feeling like a loser for doing so at my age), I have found an apartment. Assuming the details don’t fall through (yeah, a lot can go wrong between now and the time I hold the keys in my hands), I will be moving out next week sometime (hopefully).

About 3 months ago I set a goal for myself–be out by April 1st. Well, if all goes well with this place, I will hold the keys in my hands on April 1st. Cutting it kinda close, but I’m ready to rock and roll. I feel like my life has been put on pause living with my parents (they live out in the boonies) and since I’ve been here I’ve really regressed in a lot of things that I was starting to do last year before I came to live with them.

On the other hand, I’ve come so far emotionally and learned so much since then (and even had a whole relationship smooshed in there).

I’m excited and giddy and scared. I’ve gotten really comfortable not having that much responsibility and now, after 9 months, I’m putting myself back out there on my own again. I don’t know why I’m so scared. Scared isn’t the right word. Gun-shy is closer to the word. The first time I moved out on my end it ended in complete failure and devastation. Now I’m venturing out again and it’s like I have a whole new life to start. This year feels like a big year of just rebuilding from ground zero. I’ve lost pretty much EVERYTHING last year through the divorce and now I’m out on a fresh start and I feel like a duck on a pond–calm and composed on the surface, but paddling furiously under the water.

I’ve been waiting for this day for a long time and it feels like I’ve lived a lifetime since I came here.

This marks the dawning of a new day in my life. This marks an exciting and brave new world. This is my baby steps back into the ring after being clobbered in the 14th round.

Life, I am ready for a rematch…

Get thee to the choppah!

Dialogue. The bane of all our existences or the fuel of all our lives. Say what you mean and mean what you say! If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all! Shut your pie-hole and have a good day.

Today I want to engage you, the reader, into a dialogue. Bear with me for just a few moments, get a drink of green tea and slice of pound cake, and relax. I’m going to do all the talking, you are going to do all the listening. I will be the speaker and you will sit there quietly and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it. Oh you can bitch at me in the comments section all you like, but  check out these brackets:

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It is filled with how much I care. I’m feeling randy today. I’m feeling talkish (is that a word?) and quite pretty. Pay attention because I am about to school you on the art of dialogue.

Imagine a scenario where two people are sitting on a park bench. They are minding their own business, waiting for their friends and family to show up. They’ve never met each other before and they are on opposite sides of the bench. What’s up with that anyways? Why are we so distant? Is it THAT weird to actually see a bench with someone sitting on it and to go over and sit squarely beside them? I know we should make use of all the resources that the bench offers, but is it THAT ridiculous to want to sit close to a perfect stranger? To sit so close that you can smell their hair and hear them breathing softly? To glance nervously at them every few seconds waiting for them to speak?

I’m going to give you two stints of dialogue for the same situation. The first is what we might consider a typically “normal” converstaion. The second is my suggestions on how the whole experience can be ripened and add flavor to your particular world.

Scenario 1, Take 1

Woman sitting on a bench. A man walks up and sits down beside her (on the opposite end of the bench of course).

Man: Hey, how are you today?

Her: Good. How are you?

Man: I’m ok. Nice weather we’re having eh?

Her: Yeah, I’m glad spring is finally here.

Man: Me too. I was getting so sick of the cold and the snow.

Her: I know what you mean. I finally brushed the dust off of my bike the other day so that I can start cycling again.

Man: Oh, you ride? Me too! What kind of bike do you have?

Her: A 3 speed mountain bike. What about you?

Man: Same thing. It’s great to get out on the road and ride.

Bus pulls up to the station, the woman gets on and says goodbye. The man gets her phone number and calls her three days later. Today they are married with 2 kids, an SUV, PTA, a dog, a cat, and mortgage the size of Kansas. They live, of course, happily ever after.

Scenario 1, Take 2 (Let’s liven this up a bit, shall we?)

Woman sitting on a bench. A man walks up and sits down beside her (directly beside her, leaving very little space between them).

Woman: Hey, do you mind?

Man: Do you ever wonder what would happen if you tied a cat to a piece of buttered toast?

Woman: What?

Man: Well, they say that if you drop a piece of buttered toast it always lands buttered side down. But a cat always lands on it’s feet. So if you tied a piece of buttered toast to a cats back (butter side up) and threw them out of a building, which one would hit the ground first?

Woman: You know that’s quite an interesting question. Let me ask you this.

Man: Hit with it.

Woman: I was watching a documentary on TV the other day and these guys were dipping their testicles in boiling water as a form of birth control. Do you think you could do that?

Man: That depends.

Woman: On what?

Men: On how longs it’s been since I trimmed my pubes. If there’s a lot of hair there, it would act as a buffer against the hot water and perhaps not be as affective as if I had just applied a good shave.

Woman: This is making me hungry.

Man: You and me both. Let’s go get some angel hair pasta.

Woman: You read my mind

The man and the woman get their pasta, elope that very day, and 3 months later end up in jail for for getting in a bar fight at a nursing home.

****

Which life would you rather live? Me too. Angel hair pasta and fighting old people sounds good to me too.

Embrace life!

In an age where everything is electronic, I have decided to put life back into my writing.

I’m reading a book right now called “The Right to Write” by Julia Cameron (anybody who is a serious writer needs to read this book) and the ideas she presents have jumped out at me and changed the way I look at writing. For those who followed my story on my previous blog, I would say that this book has had the same affect on my writing as The Book of Pook had on my life in general and as Dave Ramsey had on my finances.

I look to books to inspire and entertain. I look to the pen to flow and feel. Within the past couple of years, however, I have neglected my pen for the age of electronics. Computers have taken a facet out of writing that just can’t quite be replaced. They’ve taken a small chunk of the life that goes into writing and removed it from the writing process.

And so, I give up my laptop for a higher crown–the pen, which was once dubbed “mightier than the sword”. I’m going back to the days of callouses and cramps. Pushing the pen across the page and allowing the writing to flow throw me and blot itself into written form. Since I began this (a couple of days ago), I feel a new fervor about my work. A sense of real accomplishment. A sense of pride to my writing that was somehow marred by the typing process.

I’ve also re-introduced the idea that writing can be done anywhere. It doesn’t have to be confined to wherever I can take my computer or hindered by the power of my laptop battery. Oh no. Now I can tuck a notebook under my arm, climb a mountain and sit out in nature with a pen and pad and jot my thoughts down without having to worry about the strength of my battery or carrying a huge laptop bag. I can take my notebook into a coffee shop and not garner a lot of unneeded attention as I would if I carried a laptop. I do not have to be confined to my bedroom for my writing (which is where most of my laptop writing has happened in the past), but rather I can write anywhere at anytime with the jot of a pen.

The pen is powerful. I can feel the words coming to me again more and more. I also feel a bigger sense of accomplishment when I finish a piece of writing. It feels more real…more warm–like a cup of coffee on a cold day. I’ve gone back to the days of my childhood, when I would carry a spiral bound notebook with me wherever I went to jot down a few words to the novel that I was writing then (an 80 page book about a boy who goes to Australia to face a dragon–my one and only completed work to date). I can attack my writing with the passion I felt then and begin to feel it again.

I’ve never been more excited by the idea of writing as I have in the past few days. This book is amazing and it speaks to me on a personal level, once again, about embracing life and translating that life onto the page with an ugency.

The book also speaks about the “Morning Pages”. Sitting down in the morning and writing out three pages longhand first thing. It speaks of writing for the joy of writing (and not the goal of being published)–an idea that I had lost somewhere along the line. It speaks of letting the words choose you and writing even if you think it’s bad. To allow your stories to tell themselves instead of spending so much time focusing on producing a perfect work in your first draft. A reason, I believe, that I recently faced writer’s block. The block came because I felt I had to produce life-altering, amazing words everytime I sat at the computer.

Now, however, I find that I am writing again for the sheer joy of it. I’m not caring how my new novel turns out. I’m just focused on letting the story unfold as it comes to me. Filling my life with my writing instead of making my life about writing.

I’m a much happier writer because of this shift in attitude. I feel free again. I feel at peace. The pen is my sword and I hear the page calling me. Ta ta for now. Woo hoo!

“Courage, it would seem, is nothing less than the power to overcome danger, misfortune, fear, injustice, while continuing to affirm inwardly that life with all its sorrows is good; that everything is meaningful even if in a sense beyond our understanding; and that there is always tomorrow.”  –Dorothy Thompson

I’ve been meaning to write this for a long time. Today I am going to do it.

I’ve got good news and I’ve got bad news. The bad news is that the bad news is SO bad that you are going to feel like you are in hell. The bad news is that your life is about to be flip-flopped, turned upside down and flipped around. Nothing will stay the same and you will walk away battle-torn, scarred and tired. That’s the bad news.

The good news is that the good news is so good that you won’t remember the bad news. The good news is that you are about to create a new life. That you’ve been given a second lease on living and you are free to remake your life as you see fit. That if you can endure a small time of complete devastation and pain the reward will be a lifetime of freedom and new hope. That’s the good news.

Now at this point you are either scared shitless or  you are excited beyond belief. Pay attention to that because how you feel right now will determine whether you are an optimist or a pessimist. It will also give you an idea of how long you are going to face the pain, the anger, the confusion, and the heartache. If you are an optimist you are more likely to make it through quickly. Pessimists, you are going to struggle for a while, but there’s hope for you too.

So let me give you some advice and hopefully something I say will help you find hope and peace in what is going to be one of the hardest things you’ll ever face.

1. First of all, and this isn’t something I dreamed up, you are going to go through five phases. The five stages of grief. Like clockwork you’ll find yourself in these stages speckled throughout the whole ordeal, and I want you to be aware of them

-Denial. I’ll never forget the night my ex-wife left me as long as I live. You see, up until this point I believed that we weren’t going to go through with it. We’d threatened it more times than I could count and never followed through with it. I foolishly believed that this was just another idle threat. And then it happened. Halloween night 2006. The day she said she was moving out(for weeks she’d told me about it and I just ignored it). Now it was a reality. I stood there in the drizzling rain and watched as she loaded her things into the car. Watched as my kids were looking wild-eyed and confused. Watched as the light drizzle of rain slowly drenched my body and felt the dread creeping up inside of me. This was it. The moment that I had denied for years had finally arrived and I found myself hopelessly unprepared for it. All the anger and fighting suddenly melted into a tender moment as I gave her a hug–the only hug I’ll never truly forget. A hug that lasted for several minutes as the tears came streaming down both our faces. I had to push her away one last time because I couldn’t take it anymore and I told her that I wished her the best. I watched as her and the kids backed out of the driveway and drove off. Denial had bitten me in the ass and I was left alone…for the first time. Rest assured you WILL face denial and it WILL last even after he/she is gone.

-Anger. Nipping at denial’s heels will be anger. You may think that your situation will be amicable, but the odds are stacked against that. Once you both move out of the denial stage, your anger will come back and things will escalate between you. The next few weeks/months/and even sometimes YEARS you will try to hurt each other. You’ll let your anger get the best of you and it will drag you down to complete rock bottom…if you let it. Not everyone will go that far, but MANY, many people do.

-Bargaining. Rest assured, there will be a moment throughout the whole thing that you will suddenly start to think about getting back together with him/her. You will forget that you separated for a reason and that those reasons more than likely have not and will NEVER change no matter how much you want them to. It’s almost a form of denial, but many people in this stage will actually get back together with their spouse and think they can work it out. Most of those people, however, are not READY for that and it falls apart. I’ve seen it happen time and time again. I faced this stage immediately after my first relationship out of the divorce ended. I thought I had learned so much and I was seriously entertaining getting back together with her again–even though down deep I realized nothing had changed. I almost gave into it. I almost gave it another shot. In my case I managed to stave it off long enough for the situation to escalate again and for the anger to take back over after a bad day in court. I am thankful I didn’t give into that feeling. I am thankful that I didn’t waste my time. Always, ALWAYS remember that you are separated for a REASON and that those reasons do not change overnight or even over several months.

-Depression. This will be your longest phase. This will be the moment you realize that the marriage is truly over and there is nothing you can do about it. Most of us will cycle through these first four phases several times. Most of us will take a severe emotional beating and feel like there is no hope–that this hurt and pain will last forever. But let me tell you something I finally learned. I learned that no matter how much it hurts right now, that no matter how hard the road gets and how tough things are now, if you just hold on it will pass. Just hold on. Just hold on for another second…another minute…another day. Brighter days are around the corner if you JUST. HOLD. ON. You don’t have to move mountains and slay dragons. All you have to do is hold on. When the time passes and the wind stops blowing and the heartache fades for another day, pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and take another step. That next step is the most important. So long as you take that next step you will get through this.

-Acceptance. This is the moment you are so desperately waiting for. You can never truly begin to heal until you reach this point. It’s the moment where you let go and decide to move on. The moment where you begin to realize what YOU did that caused that marriage to end (Hey! It takes TWO to tango and TWO to make a marriage end–even if one person is MORE at fault than the other, you BOTH have things that caused it to crumble) and you begin to work on fixing those things and cleaning up your life. It’s also your most shining moment because it’s the moment that true forgiveness is born. One of my favorite quotes about forgiveness touches on this stage slightly:

I am not a smart man, particularly, but one day, at long last, I stumbled from the dark woods of my own, and my family’s, and my country’s past, holding in my hands these truths: that love grows from the rich loam of forgiveness; that mongrels make good dogs; that the evidence of God exists in the roundness of things. This much, at least, I’ve figured out. I know this much is true. –Wally Lamb’s “I Know This Much is True”

2. The second thing I want give you is some practical advice. You’re going to want to fight these things and you’re going to make excuses for not doing these things, but you HAVE to do them. Eventually you will be FORCED to do them.

-Get a lawyer. Get the actual divorce process started. It’s not an overnight thing. Divorce proceedings take time and the quicker you get it started, the quicker it will be over. Don’t fight this. Find the money. If you don’t have the money, then start saving as much as you can so that you can get it started. You are going to have an initial divorce hearing and a final divorce hearing. It’s going to take at LEAST several months for it to be final. At least. Mine took an entire year. I started in March of last year and my final hearing was February 28th of this year and I just got the final paperwork yesterday. Now my case was a little longer than usual because we were fighting over debts in the marriage. As far as material possessions, I let her have what she wanted because they are just THINGS. Remember that. Remember that it’s not important who gets what piece of furniture or who gets the TV or the computer. Those things can be replaced in time. So don’t sweat it. It’s just not worth it emotionally to drag out your proceedings because of some STUFF. Let it go. My ex-wife has everything that we had when we were married. Everything (except a washer and dryer which she doesn’t need right now).

-Start cleaning out your life. Get his/her stuff out of your house or, if you are the one moving, get your stuff out as soon as you can. Do the work. Take the time and clean everything out. If you are making the separation then get serious about it. The sooner you take care of these physical matters, the sooner you can start repairing the emotional toll they take on you.

-You don’t HAVE to start dating right away. You don’t HAVE to let people pressure you back into a relationshp. It’s OK to be single for a while. Society and family can really pressure you to get back out there before you are truly ready. They can pressure you to the point that you end up in a relationship with someone you shouldn’t be with. That pressure is probably why you got married too soon in the FIRST place. Don’t make the same mistake twice.

-When it comes to finding someone new to date/be in a relationship, let me give you the most important thing I’ve learned out of my divorce (and I’m going to bold the shit out of this):

BEING IN A RELATIONSHIP IS ABOUT FINDING THE RIGHT PERSON, NOT BEING THE RIGHT PERSON.

Figure out what YOU want and don’t settle for less. Figure out what you won’t tolerate and don’t be afraid to walk away when somebody does it. You don’t have to make concessions and changes for the person you are with. It’s about finding someone you are compatible with–not someone you think you can change. Find that person. There are 6 billion people on the planet and you probably have close access to several hundred thousand of them in your area and the surrounding areas. People are a dime a dozen and if you find you are not happy in your relationship, FIND SOMEONE ELSE! I’m not saying that relationships don’t take work–they do–but I AM saying that when you are dating it should be a selection process not a changing process. Of course, when I say “dating” I mean when you finally are ready to look for someone long term. Don’t be afraid to date for fun and have fun for a while.

3. The actual divorce process. Now each state is different, but for the most part you can expect these things when you file for divorce:

-Costs are going to vary. The divorce itself (without lawyers involved) will run you anywhere from $150-$500. It’s not THAT expensive. Most of you will only have to spend about $150 to $200 on the actual filing fees. Lawyers, on the other hand, can be anywhere from $1000 to $10,000. (Yeah, I’ve heard of people paying up to $10,000 for divorce costs) Don’t fret. In most cases a lawyer will only charge about $1500-$3000. I know that’s still a chunk of change, but it’s worth it. My particular lawyer wanted half down and allowed me to make payments on the rest. I had to have it paid in full before the final hearing though. I wrote my last check to her on the day of the final hearing. Then, I walked into the court and the judge assigned me another $1000 of my ex-wife’s fees (yes, they are allowed to do this).

-You DO have the right to appeal any of the judges findings to the Supreme Court if you believe they were unfair (believe me, I looked into it). But be smart about it. It’s going to cose you a lot of money to appeal, so be sure what you are appealing is actually worth it (the only thing I can think of that is “worth it” would be a poor decision for any kids involved).

-You will have an initial hearing. This is where you come sit down in front of the judge for like 10 minutes and they iniate the case. If there are kids, they will set child support and custody at this hearing.

-After the initial hearing, you will get together with your lawyer, his/her lawyer, and him/her. You will discuss division of assets, division of debts, retirement, cars, and housing. It’s in your best interest to come to some form of agreement in this meeting because it will only drag out longer if you are fighting for things in court.

-You will be required to take a parenting class if you have kids. The class is like 3 hours long and you go and watch some videos and listen to someone lecture you about how to raise your kids now that you are divorced.

-Once the parenting class is complete (if it’s necessary), you’ve meet with him/her and his/her lawyer, and you’ve come to some sort of agreement, they will then schedule a final hearing. The judge will decide on what you couldn’t agree on and the matter will be closed. A few days or weeks later, they will finish the paperwork and you’ll receive a copy of the order in the mail. That date of that paperwork is the date of your final divorce.

-Once you receive the paperwork, you can take your spouse off your insurance if you want. By law, however, the insurance will have to mail your spouse a letter allowing them to continue the insurance through COBRA if they want. This means they still come off YOUR plan, but they have the option to continue coverage through your insurance company directly.

-Some things not to forget: Don’t forget to change any beneficiaries on life insurance policies. Make sure you close all joint checking/savings accounts and credit cards IMMEDIATELY. If you don’t, your spouse can legally take what he/she wants from those accounts. And don’t forget about your pension/retirement plans/stocks/options/etc.

-Things you should know: There are child support calculators online if you are wondering how much child support will be. This won’t change unless your income changes enough to affect the actual child support by 15%. You don’t HAVE to report changes in income unless it’s spelled out in the divorce. The person who receives child support has to take you back to court to get it changed and that will probably happen about every 2 years from what I hear. Typical state custody agreements are:

Every other weekend. Friday at 6PM to Sunday at 6 PM

Every Wednesday evening (mine is 5PM to 10PM, but the times aren’t usually that long)

If you want an extra day, the court will probably grant you an extra day a week.

You split birthdays, holidays. You get two weeks for vacation. There’s a such thing as Grandparents visitation rights too–so look into that.

-Alimony doesn’t usually become an issue unless you’ve been married more than 5 (usually 10) years. Look into your particular state’s laws pertaining to alimony. If you both are working and have careers, chances of alimony are slim.

*****

Will it ever end? Yes. Will you ever find happiness again? Yes. You’ve just been given a new lease on life–sieze it! Take advantage of the freedom you’ve been given and don’t be afraid to live your life to the fullest now. How many of us are truly living anyway? Get out there and get active again.

Finally, remember…no matter how hard it seems today…life is good and there is always tomorrow.

Good luck my friends.

Let the power of the paradox cloud up over your head and rain tiny little paradoxes all over your delicate body.

A discussion about the phrase “respectful indifference” arose on another area of the intraweb. It confused several people whereas to me it was brilliant. I love a good “what the hell is that?” phrase speckled here and there throughout someone’s writing. It’s like a giant “fuck you!” from the author right to the the reader. Confusion dashed with a little mystery. Interpretation engages a reader and allows them to choose their own plot without diddling with the main plot of your story.

So how do you treat someone with respectful indifference?

Imagine with me if you will a man in a cubicle. He arrives at work about 15 minutes late everday. When he gets to work he sits at his desk and veges out for about 15 minutes. Then he goes to the bathroom and does his business. When he comes out he sneaks back into his cubicle and guts a goldfish at his desk. He is someone who has watched the movie “Office Space” and took it semi-seriously yet lacks the determination to go all the way with it.

A goldfish is safe. At any given moment he can scrape the little fella into the trash can, jiggle the mouse, and look intently at his screen as if he is deeply embalmed in his work. Not engrossed–embalmed! Wrapped up in mummy sheets and filled with formaldehyde like every other corporate drone.

Now imagine that this same guy goes to the break room and while his in there the office suck up is heating some water in the microwave to make himself a good, solid cup of green tea. As he opens the door and sees this guy–we’ll call him Homo–he immediately turns and tries to walk away.

But it’s too late. Homo has already engaged him.

“Hey Mark! How’s it going buddy?” Homo says.

“Hi Homo. I’m fine.” Mark replies.

“It’s Homer, man, but that’s cool. Everybody makes that mistake around here.”

“Sorry dude. You know how that goes.”

“Yeah! Look, I’m going to be playing some hand ball tonight. You wanna join me?”

“Uh, ummm…” Mark coughs nervously. “I’m kind of busy tonight.”

“That’s cool. How about tomorrow?”

Jesus, this guy is thick, Mark thinks. “I’ll let you know.”

“Yes! You won’t regret this man! I’ll see you tomorrow!” Homo runs out of the breakroom and goes back to enthusiastically doing his job.

Mark, on the other hand, throws up a little in his mouth.

That, my friends, is respectful indifference. Mark was not rude to Homo. But if Homo suddenly stepped in front of a bus tonight, Mark would seriously not give a shit–in a respectful way.

“Oh man, Homo is dead?” Mark says sympathetically. “Bummer. Hey! Is that a raspberry filled Krispy Kreme! Holy Shit!”

Respectful Indifference. The right to not give a shit in a respectful way. The right to gorge yourself and break your diet on a donut immediately after finding out that your annoying coworker just bit the big one. The right to actually enjoy that donut in the face of such horrible news. The right, no, the INALIABLE right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness in light of hearing that the clinger at the office had to be picked up off the street with a shovel.

I respect your indifference. Do you respect mine? No? Well then piss off….

A while back I decided that I am a writer. It hit me out of nowhere that writing wasn’t merely just a hobby for me, but it’s been a big part of my life for as long as I can remember. Even as a kid I wrote until my fingers grew numb in an old tattered notebook until I finished my first “novel” (80 pages, 20 chapters). I never sought to be published, because let’s face it, I was fucking 12 years old.

Recently, however, the thought that I could make this into a successful career hit me out of nowhere and I blogged about it (long since deleted).

Since that day, it’s been in the back of my mind that when the time was right, I would begin to take the steps to make this happen. To believe in my dream of being published and to get a work finished and in print.

Then I got slammed with the worst case of writer’s block I’ve ever known.

Now, slowly, it’s starting to come back and I’m starting to find my groove again. But now, with other important things that were going on in my life being left behind in the dust, I am back to the most pressing issue in my life right now: my career.

So, I made a decision. I got a new job. That’s right. I am now working two jobs again. The one job is my day job, and I’ve been in it for 4 years and mostly miserable doing something I don’t want to do. The other, however, is my night job.

I have decided to start freelance writing. Yup, I am my own boss. Why go work for the corporate whore when I can be a whore myself?

I’m taking it seriously too. I’ve got files and envelopes other “supplies”. I’m building a list of potential markets to send my work to. I’m orientating myself this week and next week I’m setting myself on a set schedule. For now just 2 nights a week, 6 to 10 PM both nights.

My focuses are going to be:

1 hour to freelance writings

1 hour to novel writing

1 hour to research of sorts (finding new markets, finding ways to improve my writing, etc.)

1 hour to getting hard-copies together and ready for the mail.

That may change a bit as I get rolling with things, but for now that’s how I imagine it to go. I also have resolved to taking 2 writing classes/continuing ed classes per year and go to one writer’s conference in a year (I’ve found a few 3 day writer’s conferences online that I am looking into).

The idea is to transition out of my current job by building a list and getting an income equal to or slightly greater than what I’ve got going now. And hopefully banking all the income I make while building said income so that I can go back to school and get certified as a school guidance counsellor.

I’m kind of excited about the idea. I know it’s going to take a lot of hard work for a while to get it started and I’m going to have to grow an extremely thick skin because the rejections are going to be inevitable. But I am stubborn. So far everytime I’ve been knocked down, I’ve managed to scramble back up. And that was for things that I didn’t WANT to happen. This is my dream. The thing I’ve dreamed about all my life (getting a novel published, making a career out of writing). If I don’t put forth the work and effort, I’ll never make it happen.

So, here I am, working for myself for the first time in my life. I’ll update here as things develop because that’s why I started this blog to help me get my writing stuff together.

I’m flying high again.

Another Flash Fiction challenge: 

Title: Delusion

By: James

Start Time: 11:34 PM (sorry I’m late again I blame the kids lol)

End Time: 12:04 AM

And from the ballroom floor we are in celebration. One last stretch before our hibernation…–Dashboard Confessional

An ash dripped from his cigarette into the ashtray as he inhaled another drag of smoke. A nervous glance to the clock. Another one back at his watch.

The moment had arrived. The moment for which he’d spent a lifetime preparing for. The culmination of all his experiences were melting into a sublime climax and the axiom of truth was about to be made manifest.

Philosphers talked about it. Old men had dreamed their dreams and young men had seen their visions. Kings and paupers revelled in the idea alike, and each person drifting aimlessly towards the waterfall of death had hoped to change it. Great speeches spanning all of history touched it and were changed. Hope, it seemed, grew dim in light of it and yet flourished out of the ashes of it’s most dismal failures.

Time. The mother of all delusions–gripping each life in a stranglehold of death. Healing the broken, breaking the healers. Power itself held captive at the whim of it’s perilous track.

All of mankind is a time traveller, ebbing forward at the rate of 60 seconds a minute and 60 minutes an hour. Hours turning to days, days to years, and years into a lifetime. It’s the one thing in life that all people are alotted equally. Status has no power over it. And all men want to command it.

“It’s going to be one hell of a night,” he said to himself as he dished out his cigarette in the ashtray and rose from his chair.

He stepped into the chambers and closed the door. He input the numbers onto the screen in front of him and waited. Sweat dripped from his brow as he watched the machine fire to life. He could feal his breath in the coolness of the accelerator and each beat of his heart resounded like a clanging cymbal.

But delusions are for the delusional and inspiration is for the inspirational. When the two come together you either make history or you come completely undone. He would either shine tonight or he would fall flat on his face. And as his machine fired to life, he felt himself pulled in all directions as if his body was being taken apart one limb at a time. His heart raced and for a few brief moments he was free. Completely free.

A few whirring clicks…A couple of hazy buzzes…and then–silence. Steam filled the room and the door came unlocked.

He grabbed the handle, opened the door, and stepped out into the light. For the first time in his life he felt alive–like he had be reborn–and peace flooded over him as he took his first glances into a brave new world.