It's A Good Life, Weak or Not

I had been intending to write something for 10/1 about where I was at, emotionally, since the date represents exactly one year on my own, without my wife. That date is also a huge one for my line of work, so it just kind of slipped my mind.

It's pretty hard to judge where I'm at except to say that I'm better than I was. I mean, that was a pretty devastating time. From August through September of '04, I had to deal with my wife telling me she wanted to separate, moving into "our" new house, living for a month in the guest room, working at a new job, and then moving out from this very nice house into an apartment. That's a lot of stress, and I can't describe how painful it is to move into a house you know you're probably not going to live in. The job fell apart, not through any fault of mine but just a bad business plan, and I started a new one in mid-December, and since then we've been going through the divorce proceedings, which are necessarily slow. My wife started dating soon and found a serious boyfriend in only four months, who pretty much lives with her and the kids right now in that house, and that was a lot to get used to, also. He seems like a nice enough guy, though. I've tried various ways to find a girlfriend myself with absolutely no success. In my social circle, nearly everyone I know is married or hooked up or just not interested. I've made some terrible blunders, some humorous and some embarrassing, and plenty of near-misses--Friday I had a conference with my daughter's teacher and was going to maybe ask her out when, making small talk, I asked her about her necklace, and she said it was a St. Christopher medallion to keep her boyfriend safe in Iraq. I mean, Jesus! :) You really have to laugh.

I'm a pretty emotional guy, mostly a still-waters-run-deep type who's polite but only intermittently gregarious and charming. I also realized that the type of woman I want must be really rare--very affectionate and sweet, doting but not smothering, funny and smart but not a Type A personality, in good shape but not a freak about working out, into movies, books and music, loves kids, stylish and somewhat professional looking without being Republican, not hung up on religion. It's a tall order, I know. But I'm proud of myself that I have these standards. I mean, they're negotiable, but I know I wouldn't be happy with another version of my wife. An attractive work friend I know has been a good listener to me on occasion, but I realized that there just wasn't any chance at anything more, not just because I could tell where her interest ended but because she has this hard streak that crops up now and then, like when she talks shit about other coworkers who are friends of mine, or her conservatism, or when she chides me for giving money to the recovering substance abusers on the corner who are now making their way selling newspapers I don't read. The past year has really shown me who are acquaintances, who are friends, and who are true blue, shirt-off-their-back friends, and in that last category there are very few but they're enough. I don't know what I'd do without them, or without my kids, and it's a blessing that for at least three days a week, I'm absolutely content, because my kids are with me. My daughter had food poisoning last night and threw up on me, the carpet, and two couch cushions, requiring about four extra loads of laundry, and I didn't mind it at all. It's nice to take care of someone who depends on you to do so.

I've spent thousands of dollars on comics, music, electronics, toys and clothes this past year, but I've settled down a bit on that. I drank too much for a while there, but that has also calmed down into normalcy. A day spent playing with me kids, reading a good graphic novel or watching a good movie, and listening to good music while I write is a pretty good day. It's not complete without someone to share it, no, but when you think about people with no jobs and no homes or who are in horrible pain from disease or injury, it's really silly to complain. I live in Southern California, for Christ's sake. I can go to the beach if I'm sad.