The problem with divorce is not that it rips apart families like a pack of wolves, although that can definitely be a downer. The problem is that it wipes out the one safe zone that kids have. Sure, you go through phases where you hate your parents, but by and large, you count on coming home and eating dinner at a specific time and seeing everyone in their proper place. Consistency can be comforting, especially when you’re 14.

Being around other kids at school is complicated and unnerving. The last thing a kid needs is for their home environment to be the same. But that’s what happens in a divorce. Home life is no longer comfortable. So to leave school, which is uncomfortable, and to go home and try to find comfort in the very thing that makes you equally uncomfortable, well, that just sucks. A whole lot. 

Maybe that’s why I didn’t have friends over very often. Or more accurately, why I liked going over to friends’ houses to hang out. (more…)

Roommate: “So you take supplements, too?”

Me: “Yeah, I take four pillls in the morning, and then one at night.”

Roommate: “What do you take?”

Me: “Well, let’s see, I take fish oil.”

Roommate: “And what is that supposed to do?”

Me: “They say it helps with memory.”

Roommate: “Hmm. And what else?”

Me: “I take B2 and magnesium for my migraines. And there’s one other.”

Roommate: “What’s that?

Me: “I’m not sure. I don’t remember.”

I still haven’t sold it. Hell, I haven’t even looked at it since J and I split. Why? Because I don’t have it. I couldn’t actually stomach acually seeing it transfer from her hand back to mine, so when she said she would just bring it back to the jeweler, I said “OK.” This was months ago. I forget it exists, until every now and then I come across that jeweler’s phone number while going through my phone book searching for a contact.

I called my guy there back in January. In a way, that phone call was just as difficult to the one I made to each of parents, when I told them we had called off the engagement.

Jeweler: “Are you sure it’s not going to work out?” (more…)

I vividly remember the day my parents told me they were divorcing. Every child does. It’s stamped in my memory like the scar in my palm I suffered when I fell off my Big Wheels at the age of six into a ditch filled with rusty bottle caps and broken glass.

My parents called my sister and me into the master bedroom. I was 12. She was 15. My four-year-old brother Lucas was napping.

The speech was short. Uncomplicated. The whole “Your mother and I love you kids, but we don’t love each other like we used to” talk. I didn’t say much. My sister didn’t say anything, other than “ok.” I waited until I was back in my bedroom to process. I took down the calendar that hung above the light switch and in the box indicating that day’s (more…)

1 run
3 miles
1 time I attended church
1 time I tapped Church Girl on the shoulder and said hello
4 tuna fish sandwiches my pastor made us for lunch
1 time we cruised around in the Wrangler with the top down scoping out chicks (alright, I gave him a ride to the airport)
1 beer he gave me to take home (”someone left this at my house and I don’t like Belgium brews”)
1 time he told me J had called him
1 time I replied “Hmm” and didn’t inquire why
0 words written for book
1 night spent watching NCAA baskeball while drinking tall brews and eating wings 
2 nights the Horse Whisperer came over (more…)

Jesus fucking titty Christ that was insane.

A few weeks back when my buddy Shrek and his buddy BMac were in Phoenix visiting, we joked that if you’re a rapper looking for a hit, you have to have Nate Dogg do the chorus. You just have to. Almost everything he touches turns to gold, including Eminem’s “Shake that Ass.” Lay down Nate Dogg on your track, and simply cannot miss. He’s like a gimmee putt.

This got me thinking. What if Nate Dogg outsourced his talents? What if, for instance, you could pay him an appearance fee, and have him show up at an event, like a Microsoft product launch, and sing a chorus throughout Bill Gates’ speech? Sort of like a consultant? (more…)

Spam Email:

From : why notEnlarge it
Sent : Thursday, November 5, 2004 8:13 AM11:59 AM To :
Subject : MAKE IT B.I.G.

Message:

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http://makeitbetter.howtopackbigmeat.info/q1/ (more…)

Halfway through it, as we sat there tangled up in each other like two paperclips, I decided I couldn’t resist her anymore. I brushed away the hair from her neck and kissed her right below the ear as an invitation. It worked. We lost focus on the movie and fell into each other, our lips biting, tugging and playing. We stopped to finish the movie, only to pick up when it ended. I kissed her right above the collarbone. She breathed heavier.

”How much longer do I have you?” I asked.

”I’m not sure. What time do you want me to leave?” (more…)

Me: (At the shop at Bally buying a shake after working out) “Hi, I’ll have the Peanut Butter Peel with extra peanut butter.”

Female worker: “OK.” (Starts making it) “This is going to be good. I’m putting a ton of peanut butter in here. I mean a ton.”

Me: “Thanks. I appreciate it. But if I come down with hives or something, I’m coming back for a refund. HA-HA.”

Female worker: (unenthusiastically) Heh.

Me: “Or not.”