Is She Worth It?

I was all set to live my life alone, condemning myself to whatever fate awaited me, but I think fate may have some other plan in store for me.  As I was staring at this Zen Buddism thing on facebook. It was a koan. It goes like this.  ” A student once asked the master, “I want happiness” The master replied, “First you remove the “I” that is ego, then you remove “want” that is desire, all you have left is happiness”

I thought about it, and realized it’s my old ways of thinking creeping up, being angry or sad at  my expectations of how things should be not being met, instead of enjoying and treasuring what is.

I can’t lie I’ve been missing Ginny lately, not in a horny lustful kind of way…ok that too, but when I was putting the bed together I was missing her just being there,  lending a hand, or just talking to me while I’m working, or maybe even critizing me. I found some stuff of hers, and so I called her to come over and get it.

When I saw her walking up the stairs, with the sun coming in from the outside, she was breathtaking, it was almost like seeing her for the first time, for a second I was struck dumb. I let her in my apartment, at first I told her where her stuff was, and then I expected her to leave, she asked to use the washroom. (good thing I put the toilet paper on the roll). Then we got to talking about the bed, and such. She laid on it to test it out, she asked me to lay next to her. I looked into her eyes, and knew she still loved me.  They say love conquers all, whatever walls I built around my heart came crumbling down in that moment. I surrendered to love.

After that I went to my Dad’s to help move a bed, my brother wanted to know what was up with me and Ginny, I told him. He told me, “Look Ginny loves you to death, don’t know why, but she does. She’s a pretty girl, with a few issues, hell my wife is the same way, one minute she’ll call me a fucking asshole, next she wants to cuddle with me. Here’s the thing though, she has my back, and she is loyal like none other. She might call you an asshole, but god help anyone else who calls you that.”

Later that night, on the way to my stepdads, I stopped at Home Depot with Torino and Commando to have a drink. Commando has been reading my blog, she’s a good friend with great insight. She told me something that made me really think. Commando shoots straight from the hip, she told me she wanted to think I’m 100% right in this situation, but she doesn’t think that.  She pointed out at the time I heard my Mother had cancer, don’t you think it affected Ginny to. Your life is entwined with hers, she was probably thinking about how things are going to change, she might have feelings for your mother, she might of be thinking of the rough times, not just for you, but for the both of you. Just maybe..maybe she blew up because she had a rough time coping with things, and you didn’t give her the respect she deserved about it.  At the end Commando asked me, “Is she worth it?”

Without a doubt, I answered…”Yes, she’s worth it”

 

Metaphor for my Life

So I went to sit on my bed last night…snap one of the wheels on the frame snapped. Now I was already dealing with one broken wheel from months ago.  Ginny kept harping on me to get it fixed, and me in typical stubborn fashion thought it was ok. I would put books under it to even it out, and that was ok.

Like my life when it’s a little broken, I put books under to try to even it out. Then another wheel drops out from under me, shit’s got to change.

Like my life it wasn’t easy. I had to get the bed frame together, carry it down to my car, brought it to the furniture place, and there was problems there, they told me I had to go to their distribution center in another town, and I had to drag the broken one back to my car, I had to raise a fuzz (Ginny would be proud of me, I usually don’t return stuff, and she’s the queen of returning), and finally after much time I got the problem resolved….now all that’s left to do is haul the new one up 3 flights of stair, and put it back together.

So that’s really my life in a nut shell, my life needs to be really fucked up for me to change it, and once I do shit is not easy.

C’est la vie.

 

Emptiness

I think I finally snapped, between what has all happened. From seeing my mother, trying to pull against her restraints, and in a state of madness, from seeing my dad look like he was near death, the profound sadness over my best friend’s father, or  to having a knife stuck in my heart by my ex-girlfriend.

I feel empty, devoid, numb like there’s no more emotion in me, things just aren’t making me happy like they use too. . It’s not depression, cause sadness would be something. I feel like a robot, or I was made of stone. Usually I get real excited about the annual Tinley Park block party. Not this year, I just don’t even feel like going. I’m kind of forcing myself, going through the motions so to speak. I thought getting my hair dyed blonde would kickstart something, it just didn’t do the trick.

Maybe given time I’ll get back to my old self, but the times have changed, things have changed….perhaps my old self is gone.

This to shall pass

So they say. My dad will need dialysis, though it sucks and it will be hard for him. It’s better then his other option….dead. I was watching him sleep, breathing hard yesterday. It strengthen my resolve to get the gastric bypass, I do not want to end up like him. So the pain of gastric bypass, and the trials and tribulations will be well worth it, if in the end I don’t end up having to do dialysis…or worse.

As for my mother, she looks better then she did, but she is still grossly underweight, and her hands are still shaking, and she is still not 100% mentally there. I gave her a birthday card yesterday, she looked at it for about 10 minutes not understanding what it said, in the end I read it.  Ginny brought her a card with a buff guy on the front, My Mom said it looked like me. I told her she keeps talking like that, she’ll never get out of the hospital.

As for Ginny, it was really nice of her to bring my Mom a flower, and a card. I don’t hate Ginny, I really don’t, and perhaps I am being a little harsher then I should be. I feel I must. I want her to be happy, she says she was happy with me. If she was happy I don’t think she would of acted out the way she did, and said the hurtful things she did.  I know she loves me, and cares about me. She accused me of not feeling about it. There are nights I cry thinking over it, and this decision will haunt me for a long time.

Am I making a mistake? Most likely. Will I regret my actions? Most assuredly.  Then why don’t I suck up my pride, and just forgive her, and take her back. Yet again it goes back to my father. Ginny reminds me alot about my mother, a kind gentle woman but there is a streak of selfishness there. My mother left my father over money. After years he spent trying his best to please her, and give her whatever she wanted…she left.  It nearly destroyed my father.  For 8 months I worked to make Ginny happy, but it was never enough. If she truly loved me she wouldn’t of done some of the things she did, not just the exploding at me. The hanging out with all dudes, or going on that bike run. There are certain things a woman in a committed relationship should not do, if she didn’t realize that, then she is selfish.  I WILL NOT end up like my father. So I have to bid her farewell, if she for one moment treated me with a little more compassion, and understanding. Instead of flying off the handle saying some hurtful things, or done things that gave me grief, then we would still be together.

Will I find love again? Will my parents be ok? Will I have the strength for the Gastric Bypass?

I don’t know. I am a slave to fate….but all these troubles will pass. and a new set of problems will arise. it’s the way of things.  I don’t have a Chaos tattoo on me for nothing.

There is no normal life, just life

“There is no normal life, just life” – Val Kilmer as Doc Holiday from the movie Tombstone.

One of my favorite lines from a movie. I would love for once my life was normal though. To be married, a good job, kids….that isn’t my lot in life. My life has been anything but normal…jail…mental institute, college, every job known to man, love, hate, death, and pain. I seen it all.  Any man who says he doesn’t have regrets is either a simpleton, or a fool.  I have legions of them.

There are times I curse God, Destiny, or whatever power that has been guiding my life. I haved begged those same powers for release of these chains of whatever fate they have condemned me to. I have fought, and rattled these chains to the bursting point. The sad thing is at every greatest tragedy of my life, at the heart of every regret, there is no God to blame, fate had nothing to do with it. In the dark hours of the night as I lay in bed, or I look myself in the mirror I know who the enemy is, I know who, and what to blame for my failings.

That person is me.

This is where the bottom drops out.

So more problems with getting the house,  so we’ll see, really just waiting on them to say, welp you lost the contract, and your 1000 bucks. Like I said I don’t get excited over stuff, until it actually happens.

I went to Maywood yesterday to seal my arrest record, got stuck in traffic, a 45 minute trip took almost 2 hours. I was late to court, freaking out. Turns out they changed it to next week, without telling anyone. Here’s the awesome part we got studies next week, I can’t get off unless I get hit by a bus. Hopefully my lawyer can reschedule.  If not I really don’t know what I will do.

It was weird walking the halls of that courthouse again, brought back some memories. I remember just going in sweats, cause I had nothing but contempt for the system. If I could instill one thing in the youth of today is that every decision you make, like a pebble in a still pond, has a ripple effect on the rest of your life. Think before you act.

After that I was a little sour, went had a few drinks with some friends, Commando, RJ, and Frumpy.  Unlike my male brethern who shun getting stuck by women in a group talking to themselves. I enjoy how the topics go back and fro. As I told #1, it’s like going to ADD group therapy, they talk about clothes, jersey shore, boobs, ghosts, and several other topics in a span of minutes. Never sticking to one topic too long.  As much as I am allowed to view behind the curtain of the other sex though, I don’t think I will every understand them, and their motivations.

I have to laugh, #1 was said I was big pimping sitting with all the girls. I was never popular with the girls growing up, actually I never really had a girl who was my friend until after high school. Here I am talking to the most beautiful women in the South Suburbs.  The little annoyances of my life seemed trivial at that point. My life isn’t that bad, and when it’s said and done….My funeral is going to have some pretty hot babes at it.

I watched Jersey Shore for the first time last night. I felt like just weeping at the legacy of our generation. I said on Facebook, that Ancient Man build wonders of the world, such as the Great Pyramids, or the Great Wall. The best we can do is a TV show about absorbed douchebags.  The Zombie Apocalypse can’t come soon enough.  

Tomorrow an old friend gets married, his nickname is the Bishop, cause my brother is the Pope. Don’t ask it’s an Italian thing. I’m looking forward to it, cause we had some good times back in the day. Congratulations to him, and his new wife.

 

 

What the hell happened.

As I am in the firm grasp of middle age of my life, I look back and wonder…

A. Where the hell did all the time go?

B. How the hell did I make it to middle age?

C. Where the hell am I going?

Where the hell did the time go?

I was there for every minute, of every day, of every year. Sometimes it seemed like it didn’t go fast enough as a kid, but here I am 38, and I look back and just go holy shit. I’ve almost been alive for 4 decades.  As I look on my youth sometimes it feels like another lifetime, and other times it feels like just yesterday. My Grandfather told me when I was young, “The older you get, the faster time goes”. He is a wise man indeed, after I hit 21 it really just sped up. I remember as a kid, I remember walking home from school, I had this long stretch of road to walk, I hated it, but after walking it I would look back at how far I went, and it wasn’t that much time it took. That’s how my life is this long road, and I look back and say that wasn’t so bad, and I marvel at how far I’ve been.

How the hell did I make it to middle age?

I always had a bit of a death wish. I hate the idea of growing old. I view growing old as getting infirm, or weak in my mental capacity. There’s an old movie called Vikings, which I have talked about before. In it is a part where the lead viking jumps into a pit of starving wolves, screaming, “Odin!’  Growing up I idolized the villians who got shot down in a hail of gunfire, to live on the edge of a knife. Through all my adventures, and mishaps…I still live. Sometimes I feel like God is mocking me, keeping me alive just to spite me. 

Where the hell am I going?

“The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry” – Steinbeck

I can sit here and plan my life out, but it never ever goes the way I plan, so why go through the futility of it. I don’t know what the future holds for me, it will happen soon enough. I just try to the best I can, with the cards I’m dealt with. That’s all you can do, that’s all anyone can do really. The problem is my heart is fickle, and such is the fate of most people. I don’t know really what I want out of life. Sure a wife, and kids sounds nice, but I see the reality of it with my friends, and it doesn’t seem so nice at times.

When my life is all said and done, as long as people show up to my funeral, and go “River, he was one helluva guy”  I’d be pretty happy with that.

Judgement is the Devil.

5 months. That’s how long it has taken for me to meet someone new and fall in love since separating from my husband.

Totally bizarre how it’s all happened and I know lots of people think it’s fast but to be honest, it really doesn’t feel it. This is because I am a different person to the one I was at the beginning of April. I was a shadow of myself and wasn’t happy. Back in March when I quit one guild and joined another, I realised that I was happier in game than in RL because I was able to be totally me in game without someone judging me.

That was quite a shock. And part of how I rediscovered the real Amy again. Warcraft and all the Twitter folk have certainly helped in a weird way. I remember saying things to several friends and saying afterwards ‘oh god, please don’t judge me on that’ and they all said, ‘Judge you?! Wth for?!’ I realised I’d been judged for a VERY long time.

Now I’m back to being me again. A little older and wiser than last time and certainly a lot stronger and wearing a few battle scars, but I’m proud of them and wouldn’t change anything. I’ve learnt to be me again, and if anyone dares judge me now, they’d better run for cover.

Baby’s Got Back

I go to the gym every morning. I don’t really like to, but I do it so I can fit the stereotypical “healthy” image. In reality, having a 6 pack of abs is not that healthy. It puts just as much strain on your heart as a person 100 lbs overweight. I like to keep a thin layer of cushion to stay truly healthy. The main reason I workout is to make my penis look bigger. I’m not an elitist weightlifter though. I don’t look down on people that are overweight or out of shape. I don’t turn my nose up at them and automatically think they are disgusting pig. I look at the person and like or dislike them by the way they handle themselves. You want to be an elitist fat ass? Then, I will treat you the same as the guy that kisses his muscles in the mirror. The true question is: How do I like my women? Do I want a woman that works out or one that sits on her ass?

I like my women to be themselves. I like a proud dominant woman that knows what she likes. I don’t care if she is buff or a lard ass. I want her to be happy and proud. I know, this sounds like a sappy copout. It’s not and I will give you an example.

Everyday I go to the gym, there is a woman that checks me in. You might think she is some hot chick because she works at the gym, she’s not. She is about 50lbs over a healthy weight. To me she is attractive. I am one hell of a good looking guy and I find “fatty” attractive. Why? Because she is really nice to me (probably because I am hot) and she smiles everyday I come in. She even know my name. Do I care she is overweight by what polite society? Hell no! If I was single I would probably flirt with her. She has an air of sexuality about her. I look at her and say to myself, “She is pretty, I’d tap dat ass”.

What I don’t like is an overweight woman that has an attitude about being overweight. The woman that cries herself to sleep because she is unhappy with her body. I also, don’t like the snobby skinny chick with breast implants. She has more self esteem problems than the tubby chick. No matter what, the woman I find attractive are the ones that are proud of themselves. I do understand all women have some emotional self-esteem issues, but as long as it doesn’t cripple their pride I’m interested.

So ladies, you want to look like that bimbo on the cover of Cosmo? Well, I ain’t down with that. You gotta be proud with curves that are kickin’. Then, I’ll think bout stickin’ (lickin’ too). My baby’s gotta have back.

Moral to the story: Be proud of who you are and please yourself before you can please others.

-Scarybooster out…

Knocking on Heaven’s Door

This is Scarybooster again!

When I was about 8 years old, my grandfather died. He was a vegetable for about a year after a snowmobile accident, before they pulled the plug. To this day, I can vividly remember his face hitched up to all those tubes. I can remember my grandmother feeding him baby food and wiping the drool off his chin. After he died, I have not experienced another death in my family. I do not know death and what it looks like. Last night, I saw it again.

I am a very visual person. I remember directions to a place by visualizing the buildings around it. I don’t understand my left from my right. If someone tells me to go north, I wonder if they wear a sundial to tell time. Don’t they know north is always the direction I am facing? When I write, I see pictures not words (hence my bad grammar). I don’t have a photographic memory, but it is damn close. I am disturbed by things I see and at night before bed, I have to go through all the pictures in my head till I fall asleep. The problem is when I see something very disturbing to me and my head keeps replaying the same image. Last night, I went to see my girlfriends dying grandfather and I can’t get it out of my head.

The way he was sleeping. His labored breathing or his random twitching I can’t get out of my head. The second I walked into the room I was afraid for what this would do to my head and worried for his life. I didn’t want to be there if he died. I wanted to remember him alive and smiling, not gasping for air in a hospital. I’m not his family, but it hit me hard to see him there. He was always very nice to me when others hate the fact that i was dating his grand daughter 12 years younger than me. He accepted me and my 3 boys as family and knew I love his grand daughter. It brought back a lot of memories of my grandfather. It brought back the memory of the look in a dying persons eyes. How black and unresponsive they are. How sad everybody is around them and how they try to talk about fun events to take their mind off what is about to happen.

I’m shaken from the experience and had a bad night trying to sleep. I was worried for his life and worried if that is what I am going to look like on my death bed. I hope if I get that bad someone will put me down. I don’t know why we have to suffer for so long when everybody knows we are about to die. If I am struggling to take a breath when I am on my death bed, I hope somebody will step on my oxygen cord. Why prolong the misery for everyone?

It got me thinking of my own mortality. What is it going to be like for me? What will the pain feel like? Will I have the nerve to tell someone to do the deed and will they? Why have I wasted so much of my life not doing the things I want to do? Is anything going to change for me now that I have seen what it is like in the end? Why can’t I get these images out of my head?

Soooo, I kind of brought River’s personal blog down today. Sorry bout that guys and ladies