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Friday, November 7, 2008

When you dry hump the American Dream, wear a condom. You don't know where this country has been.

The stripper eventually moved out, and we were back to having a duplex to ourselves. And our dog, and now three cats. (I am not a pet guy, never have been, but normal people have pets.)

I had resigned myself to not working as a writer, listening to the opinions of people who had no passion, or soul, telling me I should simply get a job, pay my bills and be married. The same people who willingly go to Wal -Mart as a shopping option.

Christ, that's a prison sentence for someone like me, but I tried it. Pretending my heart was not creative was very difficult and I would secretly buy Writers Digest magazine and stash it in the closet like most guys stash Ass Spank Quarterly.

I had obtained employment working as a security officer for a high rise apartment building on Turtle Creek. Her Father worked the deep night shift and got me the job.

I sat in a cubicle, signed in guests, watched the other security officer and apartment manager pretend they weren't sleeping together and let the wealthy view me as subhuman, holding the door open for them as they did so.

I had lunch one day with my best friend, his little sister and his Mom. His sister was very much like my own and I knew she had great things in store for her. I will always cherish these people.

A week later I got one of those phone calls; the kind that rings and you know it is terrible news before you even pick it up.

His little sister had been driving down Northwest Highway, near Abrams, when a car came across the median into her lane, hitting her car head on.

She died instantly, and a piece of my heart died with her.

We buried her in a little Nordic Cemetery in a rocky, West Texas field on a clear, big sky day.

I bought my friend a white and black Australian Shepard pup to help take his mind off his loss, gradually, and give him something new to love. He named her Ruby and she lived with him for seventeen years.

I dream his sister plays with Ruby in a huge, emerald colored field of clover and Ruby is young again.

When I wake up... my face is wet.

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 The ideas were outdated and keeping me stuck in a place I don't want to be now for something more refreshing.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