We'll start with some of the old stuff

Although my profile is not complete yet - I just felt like I should start writing. Certainly I'll have no followers at this point and maybe that's a good thing. For those of you that will start reading my blog in the future, maybe you read way back to see what my fist post was about.



Sometime in the near future, I will fill out my profile to describe what my interests are, what my beliefs may be, possibly a title for my blogging and generically who I am. Who I am now. That's a question right there but I'll not venture down that rabbit hole at this point. My profile will describe Me - a 36 year-old happily married father of two. A gainfully employed salesperson with moderate financial freedom and a zest for life. My profile will tell you all kinds of things about Me . . . but it won't tell you about who I was. Who was 1992 Me? How about 1999 Me? And dare I even discuss 2001-02 Me? I will - I will.



The rest of this initial post will be the first entry of my 2002 journal. It's just a notepad - no fancy binding or lock on the side. Until today, it was buried in my nightstand underneath a cell phone charger, some pens, condoms which I no longer need, nude photos of my wife, the Cosmo Kamasutra Instruction guide (never used), Kleenex, and what I hope was just melted chocolate. That journal, I feel, put my life back on track. Somehow writing out what I needed to do, and what I was doing allowed me to see myself. And I didn't like what I saw. I'll share that journal in these blogs for a few weeks here. You will meet - 2001-02 Me. You probably won't like him - I certainly don't.



Over time I expect this blog to take a turn into my profile life. You'll hear all about family life, Blockbuster movie reviews, and everything that's going to be in my profile. But right now: Me - 2001.

3/11/2002
After reading an article in Men's Health magazine, I've decided to start keeping this journal. I'm sure some days will be missing, as I'll likely get busy (or drunk); yet so it begins this potential work-in-progress. I've never kept a journal, at least not alone. Teresa and I kept one in High School; more or less a collection of notes. You know, passing notes - a communication since replaced by email. Today was a good day. And now I wonder to myself, "Do I get my journal up to speed on where I am in my life?" Or is this where my life begins?

Potentially (there's that word again) this is a therapeutic means to starting over - which I feel I must do. Why? New job, New car (Audi A4 Quattro). Maybe a new girl . . . New life. I'm still having trouble getting out of bed on the first alarm. It's taking me 5 or 6 snoozes to arise. Then I race to get to Hopkins before 8:30 AM. I usually do - hungry though. Work today consisted of some computer updating, some selling, our Monday meeting, and a computer malfunction. I'm sure the details of work will become more exciting - OH, and we interviewed a potential employee. A very personable black guy whom I think we'll hire. Amazing how even today I still have thought of, "am I hiring him because I'm over-compensating for our societal pressures of 'don't be a racist'." I hope not. I'm a good judge of character, but Lord knows I've demonstrated a lack of said judgement lately.

I'm single now. Have been for about a year. I suppose I could go read the Judge's Decree and find the exact date - but I'd rather not know. I certainly don't celebrate the divorce. I miss her. I miss her a lot. It was March 1st that I got drunk (told her I wasn't drunk) and mustered the courage to tell her things are painful as "just friends." So now we're not friends. Not even 2 weeks and I miss her. The others (as I call these women who could maybe replace her, HAH!) are kind of around. I string them along like puppets. Doing their little dance for me to ease my insecurity of being alone. Alone still feels . . . lonely. Rachel is about out of the picture - great sex, bad person. Suzie didn't call yesterday or today. I think I'll just see if she does. Nice girl, bigger butt, cute cheeks . . . not my type. I saw Naked Lauren on Sat. afternoon. Not naked this time of course because it's been a while. Eclectic little college girl on Zoltof because of her mom being a schizo. Great hip bones, lovely features, fun to be around . . . maybe in a couple years. Jane is a cute, tiny little blond. Sort of the Sarah Jessica Parker look. Attractive, great kisser, but she has Cystic Fibrosis. How much can I invest in a truly terminal relationship? as EVERY other guy has done to her as well.

Those are the others, save one: Crystal. Crystal, Crystal, Crystal . . . are you for real? She just had a cervical tumor frozen off, so sex is out of the question for 6 weeks. Yet, I still find time to spend with her. I left there a hour-and-a-half ago where she made me spaghetti. The we snuggled and watched Elimidate & Shipmates. She smokes - which sucks, but overall I really like her. Why? Am I just desperate for normalcy after the divorce, Telesha, Lisa, and Rachel? Someone not needy like Kim - or ugly like that one chick, ya know, Jeff's co-worker's friend. Yes - Crystal seems pretty cool. I wonder where it will go from here?

Thing is though, I know how to make relationships work - when I want (when I'm in them). Why I sabotaged the marriage, when I felt trapped? Mark it up to ignorant stupidity - Deb was / is the greatest woman, and I love her. But back to my point - I know how to make them work. I could do it with Crystal. Should I?

End the first entry of my 2002 Journal.