eXTReMe Tracker

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

When the first baby laughed for the first time, the laugh broke into a thousand pieces and they all went skipping about and that was the beginning...

...of fairies.- James Mathew Barrie. The author of Peter Pan.

My daughters. If you have read this blog for any length of time, you will have read of them.

All of them; including the vampiric 26-year old. She was a baby once. And at a time, held her clothes to my face, inhaling her scent, and crying in reply.

That was a long time ago.

I say this with tongue somewhat-in-cheek. She is stunning, her Irish and Hispanic heritage mixing for a truly wondrous product, and I am proud she is mine.

But she is her Mother's child.

She is vindictive. I will be dead before she forgives. You'd think she was gypsy.

The thing is...I love them all. And I remember their births, each and every one, different and wonderful and frightening.

All of them, will always be my angels, even if they think their old-man is not-worth-it.

My 18-year-old twins think I am urban weird...whatever that means, somewhat cool, I guess, but I relate more to each of them than to anyone else, and they are my princesses and for the youngest I am still "Daddy".

A title I can never give up.

Just because you got the monkey off your back doesn't mean the circus has left town.- George Carlin

7:30 a.m. Wide awake., another double. Much like Sunday. Another meat grinder day.

No. Not gonna happen. The wall. You hit it.

You dial the number.

It's too early for the real managers, but you know one of the kitchen managers is there.

You ask for a manager.

"I'm a can I help you."

You almost expect him to interject, no really, I'm a manager, seriously.

You tell him who you are. What were you thinking?

You tell him Sunday ate every bit of your last lunch. He laughed.

You are not coming in.

"Ever," he replies? He is not laughing, now.

That's right. You're through. He stammers, unsure of himself.

Your last job welcomes you back in time for Christmas Eve. You are concerned. There are things you need to get to speed on, that you have forgotten.

They will come back. As will the cadaverous hostess, turned to pasture, the one that truly hates you. You said you would never be back. Right.

Another meat grinder day, but one you can live with.

There is ebb and flow. Instead of all flow.

So lesson learned. Money does not count for serenity and once again you are so reminded, you do not play well with others.

You are not a corporate player. It will not happen, so just stop it.

You will do your best, while you hash the rest of this out, to cause no further injury, while you lick your wounds.

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...