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Wednesday, October 29, 2008

I have a lazy doesn't wander far.

Valentines Day-1989. An ice storm has turned the metroplex into a skating rink and I am getting married, frozen wasteland or not.

We rented a community center in Irving and some non-denominational Jacobite officiated the proceedings. My parents were in attendance, may have even nodded hello, but no blows were thrown. My best man may have been high and I wouldn't have had it any other way.

Other than labored breathing, the sound of hundreds of ice pellets hitting the outside of the building masked the involuntary groans I think I was making as the vows were read.

She had the decency not to wear white and I tried to look happy. If you look at pictures of the event I am not smiling. I look like I have very painful gas.

We did it, cut the cake, thanked the crowd and slipped and slid all the way home, the backseat loaded down with chafing dishes and a couple of toasters.

Our wedding night consisted of diarrhea and silence. I think I may have shed a few tears, alone in the bathroom.

We should have had it annulled the next day, but I have always been one to see where things would lead, so we grimaced and left town the next morning, still ill, but having a honeymoon, all the same.

We had garnered a condo on Padre Island and the winter storm even hit there. I buried the MR2 in the sand at the beach during a freak snowstorm and spent most of our wedding money on a tow truck. She came down with a fever and tucked into a bottle of NyQuil and slept for a day and a half. I boiled shrimp and went to an AA meeting.

When I came back she was still asleep and I sat and looked at her. This was so patently unfair. To her, I mean. I should have left her alone to live her life and I know I am not an easy man to live with, even harder to love and understand. For better or for worse...Boy, did she get the bonus plan.

We followed up that nightmare with an overnight stay in a hotel on the River Walk in San Antonio. We ordered a room service cheese and fruit tray and in a playful mood I winged a piece of Gouda at her from across the room. SPLAT, right in the eye. Great. It left a bruise.

We walked the river and I kept her next to the water, keeping the urge to throw her in at bay.

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My new disclaimer...yeah I know.

Okay, the old disclaimer was tired. The ideas were outdated and keeping me stuck in a place I don't want to be now for something more refreshing.

I have recently changed my views regarding women. Seems I had some issues with the fairer sex due to past pain and self- centered fear. (Yes...duh applies.)

I'm done with that.

Being in recovery has helped me change my entire life, perceptions and attitudes. I cannot change my history but I can change my today and my future.

I recently realized that the women I know in recovery are some of the strongest, bravest, most gentle and kind teachers I have ever had. You exemplify integrity and spiritual growth, and I hope you know who you are.

Some may know of my past marital and relationship history and been a participant in them as well. It's past and that's where it the past.

I own my part in those failures but claim no more responsibility in any misery you may be experiencing. I am sorry, but it's time to get off the cross. We need the wood.

Thank you all...