-Relationships are hard. Really, really hard. They are work! I mean, you're up, you're down. Relationships are just incredibly hard. And dating is hard. And arguments are hard, especially for me. I don't do arguments. I mean GAAAAWD! I don't know how other people do it.
-There are people out there that, despite the fact that they take it easy and try to relax at work, they still work twice as hard as everyone else that they work with. Now, I'm not saying that I AM one of those people. I'm just making conversation here. But I WILL say that people LIKE THAT should DEFINITELY get more hours. And a raise.
-My two daughters have been off of school for the whole summer. And they've been seriously annoying the crap out of me. Bela and Emerald are constantly arguing and fighting with each other, not to mention being loud and being a constant source of migraines for me. But they're going to be starting school this wednesday ... and I'm reeeeeally going to miss the shit out of them. And that makes me feel really guilty. But, he, whatever, I'll deal with it.
-So I'm working more. I'm working a loooooooooot more. My legs and feet are killing me. In fact, sometimes I come home and I'm so sore that I just want to cry. It's a bit sad. I'm not the twentysomething young guy who works 39-42 hours a week anymore. I'm a late thirtysomething stay at home dad whose legs hurt. But, hey, trying not to complain here. I mean, money is money, right?
-Sex. I like it. And, not to brag, I'm prrrrrrrrrrretty damn good at it, too.
-I reeeeeally want to go back to the drive-in. Soon. I just love drive-ins and watching movies under the stars and just the whole experience. My tastes are old. Really. I love bad movies, dressing up in suits and ties, watching old horror movies, Frank Sinatra music, going to the drive-in, going on long road trips. I sometimes think that I'm an old soul, or perhaps I was just meant to be born during another time. I don't know.
-The picture above is a series of shelves in the house of a friend of mine, What an awesomely odd assortment of items: box of condoms, string, butterfly, machete, small pocket knife, nightlite, small package of friend seaweed, a penny, and shoe polish...
... and THAT, my friends, is an EXACT REPRESENTATION of the crazy random crap my mom would put on a shopping list, minus the condoms of course.
"Hey Stevie, get me cat food, double A batteries, toilet paper, and a box of raisins."
Anyway, more soon. I promise ...