Jealousy

...is an emotion I have been dealing a bit with of late. Jealous of the EW.

Little One spent the weekend with her mom this weekend. That is a good thing. They had some adventures, and Little One came back happy. And I am jealous. I guess a little jealous that through the week we don't have as much time, it seems to have fun. We have school. We have work. We have homework. We have chores. We have early morning ice skating lessons.

So I will strive to carve out more moments to laugh. More time to relax. More time to talk. More time to just enjoy one another's company.

Another Saturday Night and I Ain't Got Nobody...

Just a song lyric, really. I have a cold and have been pretty sluggish today. But feel better than yesterday, when I basically slept and consumed cold medicines. Today I took a shower, went to the market, cooked a pot of chili, cleaned the house a little, etc.

Now I am watching a little football, without much interest while I play around on the internet. I used to follow football closely. I knew the players, kept up with ESPN, went to 4-5 games a year. Now I have much less interest.

It's about time to turn in for the evening. Goodnight, inter-webs.

Damn Gym

I like to go the gym in the apartment complex that I call home. It is reasonably well equipped, having 2 treadmills, 2 ellipticals, a stairmaster, a couple of stationary bikes, and a large multi-tstation nautilus machine. I typically visit the gym in the evenings, after 8 PM. The gym is usually deserted at this time.

I like a quite gym, devoid of other people. I can work out, read on the bike and sweat in peace. And not push myself too hard. Yes, I sometimes slack when it is just me.

Last night, it was different. I just settled onto the bike and had been riding for about 14 minutes, and was getting into my biography of Horatio Nelson. And then it happened. A young lady comes into the gym. By young, I mean younger than me, but not so young that she could be un-dateable. I am guessing she was in her mid-thirties. Not that I was staring, because I wasn't.

The problem is that when there are other people in the gym I feel the need to push myself harder. To get after it. Now, in all fairness to the lady at the gym, she wasn't paying any attention to me. She was on a treadmill facing a wall, so I was out of her field of vision, even her peripheral, for most of the hour that I was there. And yet I kicked it up to "11".

And I am paying the price today. My shoulders are sore. My thighs scream in agony each time I take to the stairs.

Maybe tonight the gym will be empty again so I don't have to work so hard.

Friday Night at the Casa

A busy week with work and parenting. Tonight Little One is baby-sitting, so I am watching old "edited for content and time" movies on cable while I surf the web. I keep checking my phone to see if she is calling/texting etc.

I have done a couple of loads of laundry, went to the gym (earlier), and made and ate some tuna fish. Time soon to settle in with Bob Woodward's latest book.

Letting the Dating Begin! Or Perhaps Not

Since I am pretty much officially divorced, several of my co-workers have been asking when I am going to start dating or if there were some "secret" girlfriend that could now be openly discussed. The answer is No to both questions.

And I am in no real hurry to start dating. I can honestly say that at times I miss the companionship, affection and intimacy that such a relationship can provide. But I don't miss most of the other baggage that can come with having a steady.

I think it is also safe to say that I am probably still a bit of a head case and may not be the best candidate for dating right now. Having work friends and acquaintances is more than adequate for now, I think.

Some People Aren't Good at Faking Normality

Not long ago I ran into a high school acquaintance that I hadn't seen in probably 25 years. I honestly didn't remember her by name or face until some time later when she walked me through an old yearbook, and then things clicked. We hadn't been buddies/pals/whatever back then.

In the weeks that followed, as I tried to get to know "Betty", it became painfully clear that she couldn't control her crazy. Let me stop here. I appreciate openness and honesty. I am not saying I need to know someone's life history off the bat. I certainly don't want to hear about every guy you've ever dated/slept with etc., don't need to know about your daddy issues, your credit score and the like. I like that some people can aside a lot of the pretense that often goes along with dating and that can truly be themselves.

That said, if you are crazy, and you show it, I am going to walk. Which is too bad. Betty was attractive, fit, gainfully employed, financially stable and intelligent - she had many positive qualities. She was just crazy. So I had to say goodbye.

I will leave you with this link to a clip from "How I Met Your Mother" which I find to be quite humorous and may help illustrate the point. Betty could have been a supermodel and she would have still been too crazy for me.

Halloween

Tonight Little One will dress as the heroine from "The Hunger Games" and begin her epic quest for candy. I think she will be heading through the neighborhood with one of the neighbor kids and her parents. I will be at home ignoring the knocks on the door and read some of the books I snagged at the library yesterday.

Between Scylla and Charybdis

Visitation is a delicate subject, I suppose. Weekend last the EW had to work or otherwise engaged and was not able to exercise her full time with Little One. This weekend the Grandmother of Little One was in town and helping the EW move into a new  place. Little One wanted to spend some time with them.

No big deal to me, really. Little One needs to see her Grandmother (she lives out of state) and hasn't seen her since May. So I drove Little One over there and asked that she be back at a certain time as she had an early morning today (every Monday).

The EW agreed, but as the hour approached for her return I got a call saying she was running late. About 30 minutes late. Maybe this shouldn't overcook my grits, but it did. I kept my tongue silent, though. But perhaps this will temper my willingness to be so agreeable in the future.

/end rant.

Does a Car Equate to a Mid-Life Crisis?

I want a new car. Heck, I need a new car. Although I have only owned my current vehicle for about 2 years,  it is about worn out. It is a 2001 model, with fewer miles than I had hoped would cause it's replacement (about 140k miles). It is a "sporty" car, but not a sports car, and certainly not a performance car. It is a Swedish convertible, with a 2.0L Turbo with an automatic transmission. Not fast, but it can be fun.

The Silver Bullet is my 15th car, if my quick count is accurate. I have been driving for @ 28 years, so this is not quite a different car every 2 years. It is my 4th convertible. It ranks tied for 3rd in my "sportiest cars" owned. Ahead of it, in order of my favorites, were a BMW 325ic that I owned in the early-mid 1990s and its replacement, a Ford Mustang GT convertible (rollin' in my 5.0/ with my ragtop down so my hair can blow...).

I traded the Mustang for a 1996 Ford Bronco (the last production year) when I became engaged and was told I needed a bigger car. She didn't like it. Yet another red flag I missed, but I digress. After the Bronco came a series of more family friendly vehicles - Jeep Cherokees and Grand Cherokees, Land Rover Discovery and a Chevy Tahoe. My first post separation-car was a normally aspirated Swedish convertible. It had a manual gearbox and was fun to drive.

I find myself looking once again at sports cars and even some performance cars. In particular, my imagination has been captured by the Porsche 911. I have always liked the way these cars look and sound. In the last year I have taken several for test drives. Damn. These are some seriously fun cars to drive. In some ways they are "too much car" for my driving skill. As much as I would like to believe that I am one sponsor away from driving in the Mobil 1 Supercup, I am your average commuter.



The Porsches that are in my price range are about 10 years old. They have some miles, but are also reaching the age where things start to break down, even if the mileage is less than 50k. Some parts just dry rot, wear out, atrophy, etc. And these cars can be expensive to maintain.

I have read several books, countless magazine articles, etc. on the Porsche 911. I really do like these things. I have also hear the jokes. What the difference between a porcupine and a Porsche? On a porcupine, the pricks are on the outside. I can also imagine that a number of folks might see me driving the thing and think "Ah, middle-aged white guy, thinning gray hair, no ring. Yep, mid-life crisis. Middle-aged crazy." I can honestly say that if I could have afforded a Porsche (and the insurance on same) when I was in my 20s you can be assured I would have had one. Now that the price of the (used) car is not the obstacle, I do think about the perception. And I am not sure why it bothers me.

Little One thinks I should get a more practical vehicle. Practical to her mind includes (1) large back seat in case she wants to have friends come over and we have to drive them somewhere (2) DVD player for trips. Now, I can certainly relate to her first point. In fact, it would be nice to have some additional seating. The Silver Bullet has a small back seat, but not much. And, if I should ever have a date and want to take Little One with us to dinner or a movie, etc., it really isn't possible.

But why am I worrying about going on a date where I might introduce my daughter to some woman that I haven't met yet maybe thinking way too far ahead.

Restlessness

This morning I am feeling quite restless. This is not an uncommon sentiment. I have felt it before; many times, in fact.

Growing up my family was rather nomadic. My father's career was such that we moved every few years to a new locale. I lived in five different homes in four states before I began school. We moved in my 3rd grade year, after 6th grade, after 8th grade, and again after 9th grade.

I have changed jobs about every few years, too. Often within the same company. My current role has lasted for a touch longer than that time frame. I am eager for new challenges, new scenery.

Perhaps I just a need a road trip, but I think I may need something more.

And Now, Single

I was married in the summer of 1999, when I was thirty years old. I think that was far too young an age for me to get married.

I chose my bride poorly. That is not to say she was not a nice person. She was. She is. But we had no business getting married. But we can delve into the failures of my marriage in later posts.

We separated in 2009.When Wifey left, she left our daughter with me. For that I will be forever grateful. We were separated for three years. We recently had our day in court and were able to come to come to an agreement. I have custody of our tween daughter, and she has standard visitation. I pay her a little alimony and for her attorney. I get to keep my 401k and pension. She gets the patio furniture and lawnmower.

I am okay with those conditions. And life begins anew.

The Great Pumpkin Patch

This weekend Little One was supposed to be with the EW, but something came up so I was able to enjoy the company of my daughter for most of the weekend. Friday night we did some shopping for a Halloween costume and some decorations for the house. This was followed by dinner out at the oh so healthy Five Guys . We ended the night watching some TV.

Saturday I had a little something up my sleeve. Some weeks ago I had offered to buy some pumpkins at the market, but Little One declined. She wanted to visit one of the local fall festivals and get a gourd there. I let her sleep in a bit and then we headed for a local diner. Little One enjoyed the French toast and I had eggs. Then we were off.

I dropped the top on the Silver Bullet and off we went. I didn't tell Little One our destination. I wanted her to guess, and I assumed she would figure it out in a matter of moments. She is not really a morning person, and it took over 30 minutes to get it. But the drive was pleasant, sunny and cool. We listened to Radio Disney and she sang along to songs I only vaguely, the latest pre-teen pop sensations.

We made our way to the next county, down some county roads until at least we had arrived at the Great Pumpkin Patch. We had been to this place a few times over the years, and it certainly had grown since my last visit. The farmer that came up with idea new what he was doing. He/she (I don't know the owner) had taken a couple of hundred acres of hillside that had probably only been used for hay production or cattle grazing into a nice little money making proposition.



There a couple of high school-aged boys directing traffic, and we found a parking spot not too far from the entrance. The   attraction is free to enter, but each of the activities cost a bit to do. There were about a dozen or so little tents set up, with vendors selling Halloween t-shirts, various arts and crafts, PVC marshmallow guns, jewelry, etc. There were a couple of food trucks selling carnival type fare. There were also two permanent structures, a "cabin" that sold assorted toys for kids and miscellaneous knickknacks. The other was a barn, with various old bits of farm equipment, with restrooms appended to the rear in a little cinder block building.

A few picnic tables were scattered about, with some hay bales and pumpkins and places for parents to take photos of their wee ones. There was a petting zoo ($2 per), with some turkeys, a donkey, some miniature ponies a few potbellied pigs, an alpaca, chickens and some goats. And you weren't allowed to feed them. There was a bungee jump area with trampolines - it held up to 4 kids at a time and for $10 your kid got to jump on the trampoline and soar with the aid of the bungee lines - for 3 minutes. There were also pony rides, face painting and maybe one or two other activities that for us held no interest.

Then there was the ride to the pumpkin patch. Covered trailers made to look something like covered wagons were pulled behind tractors away from the main area up to the hillside where, in neat rows, were hundreds of pumpkins. I had discussed with Little One that the patch was restocked daily, as probably several hundred, if not a few thousand, pumpkins were picked daily. To ride to the patch, without a gourd was $3; with a pumpkin was $8. We each planned to get a pumpkin, so we paid and off we went. We sat on hay bales and were bounced a bit as a retiree pulled us behind a John Deere. Perhaps we4 went 400 yards or so, then there was a large pole barn with some seating and lots of hay bales. They had about 5 tractors and "wagons" going at once, so there was never much of a wait to get to or from the patch.

We wandered over the hillside for about 15 minutes looking to the right pumpkins. Inevitably she found a large one near a spot furthest from the assembly area, maximizing the distance I would have to carry it. Kids. I suppose I could use the exercise. We headed back with our treasures. We buckled them securely into the back seat and drove home, discussing ideas of how we might carve them.

Not a bad way to spend a day.