a tragic turn
in haiku (for no reason)

all my nerves are shot
our separation seems imminent
film at eleven

the explanation of everything

I know this is long. Much is revealed by my fable. I think it will be worth your time if you've been following my story.

I'm pissed. At her. I'm usually the peacemaker, the one to apologize first, the one to stop being mad first. I made an exception today. Consciously. I know the whole deal is stupid, but dammit, I just tired of making peace over stuff like this. Here's the story.

We had a small Christmas tree this year because She-who-must-not- be-named was too depressed about the disarray of our home to set up one of the three seven-foot Christmas trees we own. (Of course, it's because I don't make enough money that the kids can't go to summer camp, not because of insane shit like we own three seven- foot Christmas trees, but that's another blog.) So we set up a white four-footer and decked it out with $1000 worth of Hallmark, Ashton-Drake and Franklin Mint Wizard of Oz collector's ornaments. (To be fair, most were gifts from her mother, so the value is only important in that they'd be expensive to replace if broken.) It remained set-up until last weekend (Memorial Day). Her rationalization was that it was "nice decoration" and "not very Christmasy" so it was left up. I never took it down because I didn't want to be responsible for breaking any of the ornaments putting them back into the Styrofoam (that's x.p. to your Brits) containers. I have injured her Oz collection in the past and didn't feel like going through that wrath again.

Last weekend I coaxed her out of her sprained-ankle-milking and depression cave and had her come out to the living room to help pack them away. I was very grateful of her help and not disparaging about it being Memorial Day before we got to it. But it was late at night and due to one reason or another, the tree sat (and sits) barren in the living room awaiting de-lighting and storage.

This morning, my middle daughter asks to stay overnight at a friend's house on Friday. I asked my wife her thoughts. (Keep in mind that we agree that a certain amount of chores and responsibilities must be completed before such an event can be allowed, plus she slept over last weekend...) My wife responded:

"I thought you guys were going to take down that tree."

What is it? Fucking Thursday? Three days after we took the ornaments off of a tree it took you five months to get around to stripping? How much nerve does that take?

I asked her.

"Well, it looked okay with the ornaments on it, but now it's icky and bare."

I'm at a loss for a civil response. The only reason that occurs to me to apologize is that her attitude has less to do with the tree and more to do with depression. She is on anti-depressants (as am I) and is seeing a counselor (today even). She has some grief issues I'll choose not to explain and it all has a significant effect on the health of my marriage.

the dilemma
How tolerant is tolerant? How much is too much? How long is long enough? How much of a trial do I have to endure before I'm not considered a clod for throwing in the towel? The loving husband helps his wife through all adversity, right? Through sickness and depression? How long before you don't even have a life anymore? I want to be the hero. I want to be the perfect father and husband. I keep hoping that if I am those things then she won't grieve over her father anymore. That if I can be as perfect as she remembers him to be that she won't blame me for not being able to fill the hole he left in her life when he died. How big do I have to get before the hole is filled? Why do I feel guilty because I just want to scream "there's no way I'll ever be who you need" and pack a bag.

Who can tell me? Nobody can, I guess. Do me a favor though? Don't tell me I or we need counseling. We do. I do. But I already know that. I'm working on it.

similar minds?

SimilarMinds.com Compatibility Test

Your match with Mary T.: you are 81% similar you are 85% complimentary

How Compatible are You with me?

Okay... now what? Take the test, post your results in comments (or on your blog, or both).

sanitation conspiracy?

So a few weeks ago, I decided to act as if I were a single dad. I decided there's no point in expecting help from the other responsible party in my house, so I'm just going to try to do everything as if she isn't going to be there to help. Which she isn't. Well, she's there, but not helping. I mean, I know she sprained her ankle nigh unto six weeks ago, but I'm sure there's a large element of depression and marital hopelessness contributing to her inactivity with respect to housework (and, of course, the budget.) I'm really not posting this to disparage her, but rather to set the stage for my observations to follow.

Sometimes I think (and I've said since day one) that it's a good thing I got married, or I wouldn't know when to take out the trash or mow the lawn. Her ability to remind me of those two tasks has not diminished at all. So I spent a good portion of the night completely reconstructing the lawnmower--literally, I had to/got to use nearly every major tool I had to repair the push handle and tune it up. At about 3:00 a.m. (I had the day off today) it was time to take out the trash so she didn't blow a gasket in the morning. (Mind you, she's the one claiming to be walking on eggshells all the time.) So I carry it out to the brown plastic dumpster of the type that seem to bring new meaning to "ubiquitous" and roll it down to the curb. Now, Tuesday is trash pickup day on my street, but there were no other dumpsters out. By this writing my trash hadn't been picked up. Why? Wasn't today trash pickup day? I'm guessing it really isn't because Monday was a holiday and that set the pickup schedule off. But I was never officially informed of that. But everyone else seems to have known. I also didn't know Trash Amnesty Day was the first Saturday in May, but everyone else in town started piling shit in their yard on May first. And the real capper is that it seems that the entire township knows which alternate Wednesday is recycling pickup and which isn't. I got a cryptic schedule once labelling each alternate Wednesday as "A" or "B" but no indication of what A or B meant or which letter pertained to me.

How does everyone else know? Are there secret meetings? Are there unspeakable sacrificial rituals? Did I not splash blood on my doorframe on Passover? What? Was it a mistake to turn down the opportunity to have a county-sponsored microtransmitter installed in my corpus colossum? I'm thinking it was.

All I know is that this is just One More Example of the neighborhood talking behind my back. Isn't it bad enough that they've worked out a rotating schedule of people to knock on my door every time I settle in to watch "WKRP in Cincinnati?" Why can't they interrupt "Everyone Loves Raymond" instead?

Your mileage may vary.

P.S. If a Monday holiday pushes trash pickup out one day, when do they ever catch up? If anyone knows the answer, please post it.

jeez

Mary-Kate and Ashley are trying to innoculate my dour mood. The kids are watching, I'm typing, She-who-must-not-be-named is at band practice with the band that has soundly rejected everything about me. Imagine, I was in the band first. Shit.

So I spent the day filling, then pumping out, then bailing out, then sweeping and mopping and clipping and readjusting and patching the fecking vinyl liner for my above-ground pool. My advice: never take down your pool for the winter. If you do, buy a new liner the next summer. It's not worth it to try to use the old one. Now I am sunburned and the pool is sitting on a 15-foot diameter mud pit.

On the bright side, the grill that caught fire last Fall and I filled with white fire-extinguisher shit, is actually perfectly intact--just needed cleaning. I even got the igniter to work--sometimes. I didn't have to replace the burners after all.

I'm currently extremely depressed. I've been hollering at the kids for no reason. Again, I realize that it's not "real" depression, it's extreme exhaustion. I didn't get to bed till 5:00 this morning. I was sequencing the last song I won't fucking be playing with the band. But I was so into it, I lost track of time. That hasn't happened to me in years. It was a good feeling--to be so caught up in something so engrossing that the sun is up before you realize it's even past midnight. I can't wait to finish this arrangement and get on to writing an sequencing original music. Hopefully.

If I didn't mention it, I'm having lunch with a reporter on Wednesday to talk about blogging. I may fill two spots: one as anonymous blogger and one as local Internet blogging/guru. We'll see. I'll tell you about it then.

I'm off to the in-laws for a cookout tomorrow, but I may blog anyway. I've got them all hooked on the Internet. I won't be far away.

if you read one article this year, make it this one

Still on the Outside Looking In (Leonard Pitts Jr., The Miami Herald, 05/09/2002)

I can't stress it enough or say anything that will make you go there. Just do it.

novel

A local reporter wants to talk to me about blogging. Hmmm. She said that no blogger she's talked to wants their name mentioned in the paper. No surprise.

Maybe I'll talk to her about getting published (see "Finally, something interesting " here.). A win-win conversation, perhaps.

bitchen! ...sort of

Well, version 8.1 is a bit more tolerable without the "crabby" girl in the corner as one visitor put it.

If you have any layout suggestions, ever, feel free to leave a private comment. [Even you, Jen! :-) ] Please don't post them publicly. I want to learn, but I don't want to be embarassed!

ick

Boy, I hate this layout! Those two graphical elements have no earthly business on the same page. (Unless we spray-paint a moustache on the girl!)

Look for v8.1 or v9, like tomorrow.

version 8

Well it's not as impressive as it was in PhotoShop! But it'll do until the next one. [Wait, something's wrong...]
EDIT: Okay, it's better now.

thinner

I'll try not to obsess, but I'm down about 27 lbs and I'm at my lowest weight in eight or ten years! I am happy.

vote now!

All in favor of me posting the new layout I created last night say "Aye!"

(That reminds me of a comic strip of a board room I saw once. The chairman was saying "All who want to sound like pirates say 'aye' and all who want to sound like horses say 'nay'.")

blah

Don't feel like posting today. So I'll share with you another timeless Web classic:

Ever feel like it's Friday on Wednesday? Do you want to know what to expect tomorrow will feel like? Check The "Feels Like" Forecast. Nowhere else can you get this information.

defused

The wife offended me publicly by accident last night. I was furious. But I took my own advice and calmed down. I told her a couple of hours later, calmly, that she (the Head Girl Scout leader of my daughters' group) had omitted my name at the Girl Scout end-of-year ceremony when thanking all the parents who had volunteered to help with the troop activites.

I did more volunteer work than any other "non-leader" parent (she usually volunteered me) and she basically stated loudly that she takes me for granted by not saying anything. I really wouldn't have been so upset if she hadn't done the same damned thing last year.

Her response was that she didn't mean to. Not really an apology, but I'll accept it. I'm so glad she didn't call me a 'big baby' (which she easily could have), I would have hated to have to pack my bags at 10:00 last night...

microsoft XP

This is an informative article from the Microsoft case.

Two quotes:

"It is no exaggeration to say that the national security is also implicated by the efforts of hackers to break into computing networks," Allchin testified.

WTF?? "implicated?" Thank you Mr. Malaprop! So he's saying that whenever we see hackers working it's evidence of "the national security?" Huh? Do you suppose he meant "imperiled" or perhaps "impeded"?

He later acknowledged that some Microsoft code was so flawed it could not be safely disclosed.

Vote Linux. Vote Often.

NOTE: XP is a neo-emoticon for "distasteful" Eyes closed a la "South Park" and tongue out. Ironic isn't it?

by popular demand: my DJ story
Well by happenstance I had a couple of CD players, a Radio Shack DJ mixing console (remember LilFluff? Cross-fader and everything!), amp and 15" monitor/speaker.

The wedding was between a two 70-yr-old people. The bride works with my wife and is a total air-head. "Oh" she says on Wednesday, "can your husband play music at our reception?"

I stock up at the library (see below), and head off to the wedding. There's a total of maybe a hundred people, most of retirement age. No one is dressed in wedding wear. We have a little sit-down reception in a small fellowship room in the basement of the church as I played music (softly! softly!) in the adjacent choir room. I hit 'em with Sinatra, Duke Ellington, Tony Bennett, Dean Martin ("That's Amore'") and tons of Carpenters and Manilow.

Coincidentally, a friend of mine from church (a different church) was best man and sang a song to them through my system with an accomaniment tape, then it was time for gifts and then dancing! (Finally! The photographer was getting antsy.)

I played The Carpenter's "We've Only Just Begun" as their first dance as a married couple, then "Ready to Take a Chance Again" by Barry Manilow for the rest of the party to dance. They'd requested "Brown-Eyed Girl" because they "always dance to that down at the legion and we really like that one." I burned a KaZaA MP3 of it just for the occasion.

By the end (a whole 45 minutes later) there was one ancient couple who wanted to salsa. They wanted "Latin" music and, I swear to God, all I had was Santana's "Smooth" and "I Need to Know" by Marc Anthony, so I played them. The couple looked at me weird but salsed away.

Closed the gig with Sinatra's "Witchcraft", "Lady is a Tramp" (in honor of Riding in Cars with Boys) and Cake's "Short Skirt, Long Jacket" (a nod to Mary's influence on my musical tastes.) That song pretty much sent the few stragglers out of the room so I could tear down...

The bride said I did a great job. She was probably just being nice.

work with me, okay?

I hate to harken back to the mea culpa binge I was on a few weeks ago, but I need to say something.

I frequently and unintentionally say things, write things, blog things, sing things or email things that piss people off. I've become very aware of this just as I've become much more aware of many other things about myself since I started blogging. I am trying not to communicate offensively. I am trying to be better, less obtuse.

But here's where you come in...

If I say, write, blog, sing or email anything to you (or in general) that pisses you off, just stop for a second. Ask youself "did he mean to piss me off?" If I meant to piss you off, it will be both rare and obvious. If it's clear that I didn't intend to make you mad, please take it in it's intended form or, if you feel very offended, write to me and explain that you are offended and explain why. I guarantee an apology, retraction and/or silence--whatever your preferred remedy.

Bottom Line: If I've committed an act of infuriating communication, it is--in all likelyhood--unintentional. Please be flexible as I attempt to mend my ways.

Thank you.

P.S. This was not meant to piss you off.

i'm a library geek

I'm here at the public library. I have the day off. I was asked Wedneday night if I could provide music for the reception of a sixty-something couple suddenly getting married on Saturday (why so sudden? did they have to?)

Do I have music for 60-yr-old people? I think not. Well there's my wife's collection of Barry Manilow. So I just came here and scafed about 40 CD's of big bands, Tony Bennet, Frank Sinatra, Cab Calloway, Bert Bacharach(?), and other selections from the "Easy Listening" section. I also found Herbie Hancock's "Future Shock" in the Jazz section. I think I'll slip "Rockit" in the mix somewhere. I hope it's the right stuff. They didn't say what they wanted.

Oh well, they're not paying me; you get what you pay for.

elated!

Well, I got my e-bay-for-thirty-dollar-386 laptop working. Had to buy a battery charger (it's charging circuit was dead), but now I get close to two hours out of a charge. I'm even thinking about converting it to use NiMH rechargables so that I'll have the longest-lasting 386 laptop in the world. Probably four or five hours of life.

Anyway, I've been carting it around in my car for a week and over lunch I spent a half-hour just writing. Not even blog stuff, just writing. I felt so free! No Internet or boss or phone or kids to distract me, I was on my own island. Bitchen!

Now it's to make the cigarette-lighter adapter...

just now

"We" just sat in bed and had a discussion. Nothing was solved, really. She still can't grasp salaried professional prostitution. She thinks it's okay if it gives the kids money for summer camp. My view is that prostitution [for what I mean see important comment from earlier (thanks Mary)] is okay to put food on the table and a roof over your head, but not okay simply to buy more Pampered Chef.

We decided the bottom line is that we've realized that all those faults we've spent 12 years overlooking are never going away.

Uh-oh

Got a call from my wife. Apparently she got a call from the school guidance counselor who told her that my oldest daughter has been talking to the counselor about us.

She says we need to talk and then asked me for the number of her therapist...

I think the couselor call might be sparking her into action. That maybe it's too soon to give up. I hope so.

more limerence! yaay!

Sniper just posted a delightful limerence story! Love/Hate limerence is the best kind! I'm telling you! Nothing like that roller coaster. Especially when coupled with phone sex. (Er..uhh..I mean, I'm guessing.)

Let the dopamine flow!

embarassing/strange

When you've been married as long as I have, you learn what words calm your spouse. In my case, saying "I love you" relieves her stress and has become (sorry to say) almost a reflex action with me.

I was half asleep Saturday morning as She-who-must-not-be-named was getting the children ready to go out of town to visit her mom. The kids were lollygagging and she was stressed about not leaving when she'd intended. I heard all of this, her barking and the kids' whining, in my semi-concious state. My reflex kicked in.

"I love you..." I said, only partially awake. And then it happened. I punctuated the statement with another woman's name!

Thank God she didn't hear the fourth word. Thank God mostly because the name was strange even to me in that context. Sure, it was the name of a woman I care for, but not in the way that she would assume. And why, at the moment of my awakening, did this name roll off my tongue? It's not someone I'm in love with or even would rather be in a relationship with. I don't even recall dreaming about her. But there it was.

My heart starts every time I think about it. In a sort of "boy that was close" and "why did I even say that?" Odd. I must have been dreaming, that's the only thing that makes sense.

another great comment

I'll try not to make a habit of this but here's a comment exchange that really turned a light on for me.

---

Akeru:
Your comments about "lack of common sense" and "condescension" struck a note with me. I have been guilty of this for quite a while with my long-term boyfriend. He just...doesn't...GET...some things that (to me) anyone with common sense would see and understand. Like driving the mower over the lawn sprinkler head that was sticking up because he thought the mower would just push it down again. (No, we had to dig up the sprinkler and replace it.) ... How he has ruined a number of my expensive clothing items (silk, linen, etc.) on several occasions by tossing them unasked into the dryer and forgetting to look at either the clothing care labels or the previous settings -- 60 minutes, on high heat -- before turning on the dryer. How you don't "just forget" to lock the front door at night or check each day to see if the pets have fresh water; these things should become ingrained, ritual activities that require only autopilot functions from the human brain.

All of these things scream COMMON SENSE to me. But if I bring it up, he says I'm "nagging," "critical," or "too anal." He's actually a very intelligent, kind, fun person, but after a while I've noticed a real attitude of condescension sneaking into my feelings toward him whenever these kinds of things come up. I think (but don't say) things like "idiot" and "dumbass" that I would never otherwise apply to him. I also sometimes wonder if he does things like this on purpose?? -- ruining the sprinkler so that, maybe, next time the grass needs cutting I'll say NO, FORGET IT, I'll do it myself. Passive-aggressive, and all that. I love him a lot and this is one of the few things that really gets to me.

Anyway, my point was...well, are you sure that there isn't perhaps some slight justification for her opinions on this matter? Not trying to take sides, just wondering


'Bitchen' Ric:
Oh yes! There is *definitely* justification for her beliefs! You just described me! I'll admit I don't have what you or her call "common sense." A lot of it is not stupidity, though. It's three things:

1. Absentmindedness (Disney professor stuff like the locking the doors thing)
2. Overthinking things intellectually out of context. (Sprinkler)
3. True lack of common sense. (Dryer shrinking.)

I've done most of the things you've mentioned. Here's my point:

You admit that you become condescending, and that it's hurtful. I don't understand why you and her can't just resolve yourself to who we are and love us for who we are instead of "nagging" common sense in to us. We don't (and won't) learn it. Our brains don't work that way. We don't nag you because you can't format a hard drive. We love you anyway.

He DOESN'T do them on purpose. Our brains just work differently.

And we do "just forget" incredibly important things. It hurts us deeply that we forget, but it happens. We just want you to love us *despite* the fact that our brains work differently.

---

I read this to a coworker (a very good friend) and he had an interesting take. He said that he believes a lot of nagging and condescension derives from perception. That one of the people perceives the other as "incorrect," when the whole notion of "correct" is subjective. He also theorizes that condescension is a symptom of something deeper. And the greater the "deep" problem gets, the more "incorrect" the partner seems and thus more condescension. Is it incorrect to take a different route to someplace or do household chores in a different order? Not likely. Does that mean that no one has ever been nagged by their spouse for those exact reasons? Do I need to answer that?

These comments also make me wonder if there's a support group for "common sense" individuals married to "absentminded professor" types. You'd think that enough people have live through it to supply solid advice. Have you lived through it? Do you have advice?

this is why

If you are a long-time reader, you know I work for a site with an advice column. If you've ever wondered why advice columnists don't answer every question, this is why:

THERE'S THIS GUY ACROSS MY HOUSE WELL ACTUALLY THEIR 2.AND THE FIRST ONE IS OLDER LIKE 24 AND HIS OTHER BROTHER IS 20.. I'M 16.. WELL THE GUY WHO IS 24 I KNOW THEM FROM A LONG TIME ESPECIALLY FOR 8 YEARS..THEY ALWAYZ LOOK AT ME WELL GIVING ME EYE CONTACT AND SOME TIMES SMILES..BUT ONE DAY I TOLD THE OLDER ONE I WANNA BE HIS FRIEND AND HE SAID TO ME THAT HE HAS LOTS OF FRIENDS AND DON'T NEED MORE. BUT LAST WEEK HIS YOUNGER BROTHER TOLD ME THE SAME THING BUT HE SAID SORRY.. THEN I TOLD HIM DON'T BE SHY TO TALK TO ME HE SAID I'LL TRY.. BUT THE NEXT DAY HE SMILED AT ME..MY FRIEND HAD HEARD THAT HIS OLDER BROTHER TOLD HIS BROTHER AND FRIEND THAT HE LOVES ME AND WANTED TO ASK ME OUT. BUT HE NEVER DID.. THEY DON'T EVEN TALK TO ME NOTHING THE ONLY THING IS STAIR AT MY EYES FOR A LONG TIME AND I WOULD STAIR BACK.. BUT LIKE WHEN THEY TALK TO ME BACK IT'S LIKE THEY HIDE SOMETHING.BUT AFTER HIS FRIEND ASK HIM WERE SHE LIVES HE POINTED TO MY WINDOW AND HIS YOUNGER BROTHER SAID SHE IS NOT THAT BAD.BUT NOW HIS BROTHER ALWYZ LOOKS AT ME DANCING, TALKING ANYTHING I DO..BUT THERES ONE THING I DON'T UNDERSTAND ON MY MSN CHAT THEIRS THE E-MAIL OF THE GUY ACROSS MY HOUSE WITH MY NAME FOREVER BUT HE TOLD ME HIS BROTHER IS IN FLORIDA NOW AND I TOLDD HIM I KNOW BUT I TOLD THEM HE ACTS LIKE U TOO BUT HE DIDN'T ANSWER ABOUT HIM BUT THE ONLY THING HE TOLD ME IS THAT HE DOESN'T KNOW ANYTHING IN COMPUTER BUT I DON'T BELIEVE THAT A GUY WON'T KNOW.. SO I REALLY WANNA KNOW WHAT ALL THIS MEANS CAUSE I AHVE BEING WONDERING FOR 3 YEARS. THANX AND LET ME KNOW PLEASE!

Sometimes you have to pick your battles...

I love limerence stories

Sar's got a clever wit for her age. This is classic...

If there is anyone out there who does not like hearing about Ben, let me know... It's not that I don't enjoy writing about him, believe me, I love it, but it gets a bit tedious putting it in my blog and in my journal. My journal always comes first, it is my child, it is my life, and I love it so much. My journal and I are so tight that we make fun of the blog for being superficial sometimes.

I know I've said it before, but go and follow her account of her crush on Ben this school year. I'll eat my blog if it doesn't put you back in school, crushing on that someone...

important comment

I'm going to re-post the first two comments from the last entry because I think this exchange is relevant and should be highlighted.

---

LilFluffy:
Well, one glaring thing about this entry. Her quick response to your question. You asked a straightforward question, offering to 'help' with the budgeting. The nature of the question makes it obvious that you are 'giving' in this discussion. Her short response, "Make more money", says many things. First, no consideration. This is not an easily accomplished option. Secondly, a very selfish answer on her part. There's no 'give' in it, she's not offering anything, just making a demand, and an unreasonable one at that. In just this two line exchange between the two of you, I see you giving and her taking. Very, very selfish and somewhat mean on her part. How old is she again? Sounds like somewhere around 17 mentally.

'Bitchen' Ric:
In all fairness, there is someplace I could probably go, get hired and make more money. There are three problems with this:

1. Impact on my current company (not a huge concern, but I don't want to screw my friends, either).
2. Our standard of living would just inflate, it wouldn't solve the problem.
3. The new job would be prostitution. 70% office politics and 30% doing a job I wouldn't like to begin with. She doesn't comprehend this. "Providing for the family should be more important than anything."

---

I'd like to feel that my sanity is a concern here, I guess. And, to answer his question, she's older than me.

Tense Mother's Day

Don't get me wrong, we got my wife nice presents and she appreciated them, but there was just a hint of disappointment over the high-thread-count sheet I'd bought her. And I blew it out of proportion. My fault. Mea culpa.

It turned into a very tense discussion of her condescension. She said I was paranoid, and I told her that it was obvious she thought I was somehow lesser (in terms of "common sense") and that she felt it was warranted. I finally convinced her to listen to herself for a day and see if she heard it or not, and I'd drop it.

In essence, she seems baffled that things don't occur to me that are "common sense" to her. She belittles me for it. When I tried to explain that it'd be like me browbeating her for not understanding higher math, she blew up.

"Enough already! She's wrong, she's wrong! Beat me up with it."

It wasn't an admission of error, mind you. It was defense. I'm the evil one. She is blameless. Always blameless.

Later, after minutes of silence trying to figure the most innocuous way of asking, I asked "What can I do to help you with the budget?"

"Make more money."

I can't even go there right now... But suffice to say it isn't poor budgeting/spending habits that are to blame, it's how much I make. Or don't make, I guess.

I'm just venting. I skew things here a bit, because it's my blog. Her side would be just as convincing, I'd bet.

I just keep going back to the question of whether our differences are irreconcilable.

this is cool

via srah blah blah

Pick a band and answer using only that band's lyrics.
Band: Billy Joel

1. Are you male or female?

"He said play us a song, you're the Piano Man" (Piano Man)

2. Describe yourself:

"The other night I fought a good fight,
But I'm getting close to the borderline"
(Close to the Borderline)

3. How do they feel about you?

"I don't want clever conversation,
I never want to work that hard."
(Just the Way You Are)

4. How do you feel about yourself?

"Only the good die young."
(Only the Good Die Young)

5. Describe your girlfriend/boyfriend:

"She'll bring out the best and the worst you can be
Blame it all on yourself cause she's always a woman to me."
(Always a Woman)

6. What would you rather be doing?

"The piano sounds like a carvinal,
The microphone smells like a beer.
They sit at the bar and put breadin my jar,
And say 'Man, what are you doing here?'"
(Piano Man)

7. Describe where you live.

"Saturday night and you're still hangin' around
Tired of livin' in your one-horse town
Like to find a little hole in the ground
For a while"
(Captain Jack)

8. Describe how you love.

"Tell her about it. Tell her all the things you feel.
Give her every reason to accept that you're for real."
(Tell Her About It)

9. Share a few words of wisdom.

"Don't forget your second wind.
Wait in your corner until that breeze blows in."
(You're Only Human)

I learned it from my dad

I had lunch with Mom yesterday and asked her why she never divorced Dad. She made excuses for him and said it was never abusive. I set her straight on that. It was abuse. She said "we've been together 42 years, what would we do?" I said "Mom, we've been having this discussion for twenty-five years."

Someone asked me the other day what the theme of my blog was. I'd never thought about it, but I summed it up with "It's about how my father's influence is ruining my marriage."

I don't blame him. I'm not that guy. I know it's my issue. But I know where I learned it.

(Great Scott! The fourth post in like an hour. Sorry 'bout all the reading!)

it's the tone

The more I think about it, the more I realize that it's her tone that sets me off more than anything. It's not what she's saying it's that when she says it it's in a way that makes her sound like she's smarter than me or better than me or my mother or... I'm an intelligent, fairly well-adjusted guy and it just makes me feel like shit every time she does it.

That being said, let me tell you that she doesn't even know she's doing it. I think it's been happening since day one of our marriage. When I confront her about it she insists it's all in my head. When I came back from washing sleeping bags and a couple of very large comforters at the laundromat, she pointed out a small (easily-washable at home) blanket on the floor and said "I don't know why you didn't take that and wash it too!" It wasn't "Hey, hon, how come you didn't wash that blanket while you were there?" But she doesn't see that. All I can hope is that a third party (read: marriage counselor) can illustrate that.

That being said, I was informed by a good friend the other night that I often come across as condescending to everyone. Ask Becklyn. My wife has pointed this out to me many times and I can't see it either. But I'm more aware of it since it was pointed out to my by someone other than she.

A long way to go.

I fixed blogger! Sort of.

Well, I'm sure Ev did most of the work. The email:

From: Williams, Evan [mailto:ev@pyra.com]
Sent: Thursday, May 09, 2002 5:47 PM
To: Ric -------
Subject: RE: Error on Blogger

thanks for the heads-up. should be fixed now.

> -----Original Message-----
> From: Ric

> Sent: Thursday, May 09, 2002 3:32 PM
> To: Williams, Evan
> Subject: Error on Blogger
>
> I consistently get this error when trying to blog from
> non-Pro Blogger. You probably know, but I thought
> I'd give you a heads up. You may try truncating some SQL
> Server logs. Don't know if they get stored in the group
> with the database or not.

> Microsoft OLE DB Provider for ODBC Drivers
> error '80004005'
>
> [Microsoft][ODBC SQL Server Driver][SQL Server]Could
> not allocate space for object 'Items' in database 'blogger'
> because the 'PRIMARY' filegroup is full.
>
> /blog_form-action.pyra, line 54

*snif* I'm so proud...

go figure

Two of the winners in a sexual abstinence essay contest in Paterson, NJ are pregnant.

One said in her essay: "having sex with a condom is like playing Russian roulette with your life." Really?

gratitude

A big dose of thanks goes to all those who responded to my plea both privately and publicly. You've made me feel like somebody cares. That means a lot. I even thought briefly about killing the blog for good yesterday, but I'll leave it around for now. Thanks T, Mary, Robin, Sniper, Greg, Aldo, LMB, Allen, LilFluffy, ruler, yndygo and Krista. You can find links to many of their blogs in the comments for the last two posts. I enourage you all to go to each other sites. Let the traffic counters be my thanks for this little community of good people.

I'll add you guys to my permanent list soon if you're not already there.

I have a lot to think about. I haven't even begun to process all the notes I got. You guys even sent me notes that were clearly honest about divorce and not just what I wanted to hear. I really appreciate that. An important decision requires objective advice. Feel free to send your two cents to me if you haven't already.

Thanks again.

to clarify

Thank you all for your comments on the note below. Thanks to Mary T. for pointing it out.

Just to clarify, I'm not upset that she wants to stay with Mom if there's a divorce. That's understood. It's not a point of contention with us at all. If you lived in my house, it would be completely natural to assume that the girls would stay with her in the event of the worst-case scenario. She a good mother and far better equipped to raise three girls alone than I.

What upsets me about the note is the clarity and depth of a seven-year-old's understanding of the world around her. It really drove home how much all this affects the kids in general. It's a poignant illustration, I felt, and it has pretty much solidified my resolve to work things out.

If you want to be helpful post in comments or email me every conceivable argument for not getting divorced you can think of. Yes, it's biased and closed-minded of me, but it's what I need right now. Sell me on it.

Thanks.

found while cleaning

Redneck Holiday

I am really sore. My abs are killing me! I'll tell you why.

I don't know if you have this in your town, but once a year, my little rural podunk has a "Trash Amnesty Day." You're allowed to throw anything away (no matter how big or how much) and they pick it up on the first Saturday morning in May. This is like a redneck holiday. Imagine a town full of pickup truck owners (with requisite gunracks) and piles of junk sitting in front of every other house! Just imagine: "Hay Martha! Sumbuddy throwed away this perfect set of antlers. Whut a waste! Get out here and throw them in the truck!"

Since I live in Rome, I did as the Romans (hey, if it were New Orleans, I'd throw beads for breasts instead...) and at the stroke of eleven last Friday night, I loaded the kids up in the (1999 candy-apple red with power windows and locks Ford Explorer) pick-em-up truck and set off. My goal was 2 x 4's. The wife's been wanting steps from the back patio to the yard for a long time, so I thought I'd get enough wood to build her some. Yes, I'm that cheap. (I have to keep the kids in Tommy Hilfiger...don't get me started.)

By midnight I'd gathered close to seventy linear feet of 2 x 4's and 2 x 6's. I made out like a bandit. I didn't even have to fight off the hundred or so others out there. I was in hog heaven!

So my weekend was spent pulling nails and screws out of my prized seventy linear feet with a crow bar so I could get it out of my yard. Did you know that pulling sixteen-penny nails and screws is an incredible ab workout? Neither did I. I see an invention and an infomercial in the works...

Smitten

By the way, I think I'm in love with this girl from the eDiets ad on Yahoo! mail. Oh, hey, wait a minute! Isn't that Krista from Mental?

Sorry, sorry, sorry....

I know I haven't posted in three days. I had one written on Friday about a terse conversation with She-who-must-not-be-named on Thursday, but I lost it and didn't feel like re-writing it. Suffice to say, things are calm now.

Then my fecking ISP was down all weekend. I hate those numb-nutted neandrathals. They claim the highest uptime in the city and I can't dial up from 3:30 pm on Staurday till 3:30 pm on Sunday. I tried to call them, but to no avail. They don't have tech support on the weekends. Somebody needs to get on the ball over there.

Of course, at some point I have to concede that the ISP was my employer and I was lead tech in charge of keeping the Internet up this weekend...

Oops.

nothing in here is true

Tony Pierce has a blog and a site that are a wonder to behold. He claims "nothing in here is true" and proceeds to relate a plethora of conversations he's had with Anna Kournikova and more recently, Kirsten Dunst.

One of the most riveting things I've read is his account of Ashley. He claims it's not true, but it smacks of authenticity. Browse the photo essay, but be sure to read the whole story.

Truly riveting. The rest of the site is a riot.

A Night Away

A woman has the last word in any argument.
Anything a man says after that is the beginning of a new argument.
--Anonymous

That's pretty much the story of my life. I didn't even sleep at my house on Monday. Didn't want to fight anymore. A screaming match about nothing. According to her, I was the only one screaming and cussing; she only raised her voice to be heard over my swearing.

A night away was a nice break. I got nicely toasted and nicely forgot my worries for a while.

I'm back home now. Things are calmer. But still, it's the general air that hell could break loose between us at the drop of a hat. She called me "Dr. Jeckyl and Mr. Hyde" last night, and it's probably not a bad description. But she knows exactly which buttons bring out Mr. Hyde and she pushes them anyway.

I'm back, but it may just be so that we can negotiate a proper separation and not a heated one. I don't know right now. We love each other, but we just can't get along. It's been a long battle of what I call "inferences and implications." If one of us isn't implying malice in our words, the other one is inferring it. No one ever really starts a fight, do they?

The kids are up to speed on it and they're doing well and not blaming themselves as far as I can tell. Thanks for asking.

More later.