Strange Magic...or something like that...

Strange...

I've been thinking a lot about blogging, as I read a lot of fascinating and well-written blogs. So, I googled "blogs" and this site came up. So, I clicked on it. Little did I remember that I had begun a blog ON THIS SITE last year. I guess that shows me how attentive and committed I am to blogging, huh? So, as I was still signed in (thanks to their site's feature allowing me to do that), I'll just resume.

A lot has been going on in the world, lately. A lot here in the U.S.A., and a lot world-wide. As does everyone, I have a lot of opinions about different things. And, from time to time, I like to voice them. Well, OK, I ALWAYS like to voice my opinions. They aren't always nice, and they aren't always Christ-like. I'm not perfect (gasp!) and don't claim to be. As it seems that I always piss in someone's Cheerios, I guess I'll spill out my opinions and hatefulness on here. It's a little more private, a little harder to find, and allows for much longer postings. My aim in life isn't to piss people off, but I always seem to be doing it. Often, doing that is the beginning of an intelligent, mutually beneficial discourse. More often, it isn't. There are times I just don't have the energy or even the interest in the subject to have a long, drawn-out argument about something. Often, I admit, I might have an opinion on a subject, but don't know enough about it to jump into an intelligent, academic discussion. That is lazy, and I know it--I should be willing to research something enough to be able to talk about it. Sometimes I just don't care though. Does that make me a bad person? IDK...sometimes, I wonder, and think that maybe it does.

Just this morning, I posted a (what I thought was) simple comment about a county clerk resigning from her job for disagreeing with same-sex marriage licenses (she didn't want to process them). OK. It is her right to feel that way (silly as it may be). It is her right to resign from her job over it. As a friend said, I'd rather her put her money where her mouth is and resign than to have her stay at the job, refuse to do it, cause all sorts of problems, etc. when they can just hire someone who will do the job without complaint. I personally don't know why we are giving all these people so much air-time. I shouldn't care about this woman. But, there the post was, and there my brain went, sputtering to life, forming an opinion. So I posted what I thought: that she SHOULD resign and that I hoped she got mighty hungry during her period of unemployment. Now. Seriously, I don't want her to be hungry. What would have been better would have been to say that I hoped she had a lot of time to think about her actions while she was unemployed. I don't want to, and I'm not going to change what I typed. Because I DO disagree with her. I think her thinking is flawed. I don't feel that her thinking is Christ-like. (Because we all know that everything I do is Christ-like -- HA!). I will admit, though, that I could have said it better. My problem is this: I tend to get so angry when someone refutes my posts in a pious, holier-than-thou manner. Especially when I know this person, and they aren't all that pretty or perfect themselves. I guess I shouldn't let it bother me, but it does. I try not to be that pious person. Sometimes I am -- it comes spewing out, and I'm usually embarrassed to death afterwards. Just another of my imperfections. I suppose that my work now is to forgive them and move on. Hence writing this entry. This is therapeutic for me, and hopefully, I'll "let it gooooo, let it go!" after this. I hope the woman in Arkansas is happy with her choice and is able to find other employment quickly. No one should be unemployed; the world is too fragile a place to live like that. What I hope she realizes is this: her resignation isn't going to stop anyone from being married there. It will go on. They will find someone who will do the job; someone who NEEDS the job. And who will be more than happy to file forms with the state of Arkansas after some fabulous same-sex couples fill them out. Maybe the woman who resigned doesn't really have to work; perhaps she has a really great opposite-sex husband who provides for her wonderfully. I truly hope that is the case. She's a lucky woman, if so. So, I'm now giving this to the universe. Bye, Felicia! 

I guess this is where I start…

 

 

So, yeah…I’ve decided to begin a blog. I was inspired by my friend Mallory (she knows who she is!). I guess I’m going to copy-cat a bit…there are a few rules for my blog:

1)      It’s my blog. I’ll write what I want. My filter is broken and my give-a-damn is missing. So, read at your own risk! Actually, I’m kidding. Well, about the give-a-damn, anyway.

2)      I might not post every day. I like to keep everyone on the edge of their seats. So, if you like the blog, just check it every day.

3)      No snarky comments (well, maybe a few, but don’t be mean to me; my psyche is fragile!).

4)      I’m out of rules…it hurts my brain cell to think that much.

I figured this would be a chance to voice my opinions in my own forum, to air my bitchiness, and to hopefully have some self-therapy. It’s much cheaper than a real therapist, you see. I also hope that I’m funny or comical some of the time. I mean, I always think I’m funny; others disagree, for some reason…

So, I suppose I should put in the obligatory paragraph about myself. I don’t find myself exciting at all. Maybe unusual, or odd. Eclectic?? I’m 44 years old. I’m now a member of the growing lower class. I pretend to be middle class (it makes me feel better about myself). I actually haven’t been truly middle class for a long time. However, I truly kind of think that this whole class thing is silly. I don’t know what would work better, but I think the class system is terrible, hurtful, and very divisive. I’m a proud gay man. I’m out. My closet was about the size of a broom closet, and it’s much better out here. I was becoming claustrophobic inside it. Closets are for coats, people! I have been married twice. Yes, to women. It only took me 35 years to find out why THAT wasn’t working out. My first wife was and is a wonderful woman. We were best friends but terrible spouses. She realized very early on what was up with me, and quietly, gracefully divorced me. Of course, I was heartbroken. I did after all love her. She and I both survived and moved on. We have a wonderful daughter together who is now almost 23. I think that she has both our best qualities, and some awesome ones of her own. She’s classy, independent, and strong. Then there’s my second wife. Not cool. Not cool at ALL. I look back, and I’m not sure why we married each other. I think then I still felt that if you got someone pregnant, you married her. It’s how I was raised, you see. Conservative home, family, etc. So, we got married. When we were preparing to move in together (before we were married), she had a sort of strange meltdown over something actually very insignificant. That was my first warning sign of her apparent instability. I should’ve known, should’ve realized, etc. But, shoulda, coulda, woulda…We stuck it out for a total of seven years together. We have a son together. He’s fourteen, and his mother’s toxicity has very negatively affected my relationship with him. She has a strong influence over him. This normally would be good, but it has been detrimental in so many ways. She was verbally, mentally, emotionally, and psychologically abusive to me. I, being the “nice guy”, just took it. And it wore me down. After we divorced, and I came out, I think it reached its pinnacle, and I became very, very depressed, my self-esteem plummeted. Ultimately, I became suicidal, and made four attempts. I took drugs. It was my weapon of choice against myself. I was careful to only use those prescribed to me. I wouldn’t even know which street to get them off of! I’m told that they were what should have been lethal to me. I spent a lot of time in the psychiatric ward. Five stays in all. During that time, I learned a LOT about myself, a lot about my ex-wife, and had some life experiences that are unrivaled! Ultimately, because of events related to the depression and Bipolar Disorder Type 2, I lost my apartment, my job, my car…and basically my son. That is a story in and of itself, so we’ll cover that in a subsequent post! There were some positive things arising from all this: I got to live in Atlanta, GA with a beautiful friend. She helped me begin to stand up again. She gave me some hard truths, a lot of love, and most of all, encouragement and compassion. I love her more than she knows! I was also able to live for a brief time with my daughter again. Her amazing Mom and her boyfriend actually invited me to live with them for a while. It was a blessing to me, being able to be close to my daughter again. We had lived geographically apart for quite a while. I had a chance to work in the fast food industry for a period of time. Honestly, people, it wasn’t as bad as it had been portrayed to me. I was trying to go into management. My health put the kibosh on that, though. As I recovered from that health scare, I lived with family in Southern Illinois. While there, I began to realize that the places I had lived all my life were actually toxic to me. They had outlived their usefulness to me. Sad, but true. I was ready for a change. So, I made a very “snap” decision to pack up and move. I had friends in Kansas with whom I chatted a lot. One of them and particular knew about my desires to relocate. He made the offer for me to come out, visit, and if I liked it, to stay with them. Within two days, I had packed, loaded up the car (a rather pathetic Ford Escort) with all my stuff and my neurotic dog, and drove to Manhattan, KS. I left a note for my family and haven’t looked back! Of course, they were freaked out, upset, and thought I was crazy. I just told them that I was safe, not starving, and that yes, I was crazy. I do have papers to prove it, after all! They settled into the idea. It’s all good now. The living situation with my friends ultimately was not working out, and they introduced me to Dan, my love. We went on one date, I spent the night with him (yeah, I’m that kind of girl, apparently), and he, being the kind soul he is, decided that I couldn’t stay where I was any longer. He ok’d it with his landlord, and we went to get my stuff and I moved in with him. It was a tiny studio apartment. We soon looked for a larger place. We’ve been together ever since, and if Kansas ever gets its head out of its ass and deports certain politicians to Siberia or somewhere, we plan to be married.

So, this is just one tiny, little portion of my back story. There’s more, believe me, but my fingers are tired and my eyes are bugging out from this screen. So, another day, another post. Hope you have enjoyed it! More to come…