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Wednesday, October 22, 2008

They say you should marry your best friend...they are wrong.

The first time I got married, it was out of pregnancy and some misguided attempt at vaguely trying to do what was right, even though the execution was horribly and tragically flawed.

The second time, well, that's a whole different story, one that will begin here. (As I have children that are a direct result of this union and are now in college I am forced to be very careful, and maybe go slower in my descriptions in an attempt at uncharacteristic fairness than if she were just another release valve with lipstick. This is going to require thought.)

The first time I saw her she was standing outside the restaurant. Great heels, short dress, wild, thick Irish hair and a look that said I can suck your spine out through your shorts. I even remember the thought I had, as clear as if it were just a moment ago.

The thought was, "With my luck, I'll marry her." We were both applying for jobs, me as a waiter, and she as a hostess. We got hired and made small talk. My triumph was in the shop and I begged a ride home in her Toyota MR2.

Nice car, and a wiggle in her walk that could make the dead shudder. Dangerous ground for the likes of me, but I was swearing off the love tunnel but thought I might try to have a female friend. I should have picked one that didn't go dancing wearing nothing but an Indian blanket and toe rings. (The drummer she marched to was not just different, he was spastic.)

Turned out the benefits were exceptional, and involved hot wax, chocolate sauce and a myriad of lingerie.

So we hung out and got to know each other. My brother even made a run at her, asking her out. She turned him down and I still wonder how all this would have turned out if that had not been the case.

Come to think of it, I couldn't see him doing it.

She was a bone crusher and he was too nice a guy.

No comments:

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 The ideas were outdated and keeping me stuck in a place I don't want to be now for something more refreshing.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...