i haven't posted in almost a year and i know no one will read this and I am going to selfishly lose it here on this page.

in 1970 my mother was 17 years old, in the 11th grade and pregnant. Her strict catholic parents threw her out of the house and she moved in with my dad's parents. My dad, also 17, and being a stand up guy, dropped out of school and eventually ran away from all of this, leaving my mom and me with HIS parents.

I was born on January 3rd, 1971 and brought home with my mom to my grandparent's house. We stayed here with them until I was 3 years old. Throughout my childhood, my dad came and went from my life as did my mom, but the one person who was always there for me was my grandma.

By the time I was 10 my parents were in their mid/late twenties, my mom was dating a 18 year old and my dad was gone again. The only person interested in being anything like a parent to me was my grandma.

Between 10 and 18, I went through multiple homes, schools, step-moms and court ordered living arrangements. My father hated my grandma because I loved her so much and at times forbid her from being around me. My mother hated me for being my father's son and he hated me for so many reasons I couldn't begin to list them here.

I am not a momma's boy or a daddy's boy, they both resented me for ruining their lives; I have always wanted them both to love me like I THOUGHT a parent should love their son, but it just never worked out, it just wasn't in them. I don't know what it feels like to feel safe with your parents or to have that emotional safety net, aside from my grandma. She was the only person who loved me unconditionally.

She could never help me physical things or with money and I never asked. She just loved me. She taught me to remain positive no matter how bad it got, and at times it was very bad for me. Most of the things that I dealt with as a kid I've kept to myself; my grandma always said these things weren't hurting me as much as they were strengthening me and my character. I love her so much for that perspective.

She died yesterday, and I am absolutely crushed. I can't believe I am even typing those words.

I am grown now with a wife and three fantastic daughters but I can't help but feel like I've just lost everything. This is just so horrible.

1. No idea where my dad is or if he is alive. Last I heard from him was when he text messaged me asking for $2000 and I texted back "no". Since then, nothing.

2. My mom's husband of 15 years has fallen off of the wagon, is once again a RAGING drunk and is moving out of their house into his parents house (he's 46 years old mind you). My mom and 12-year old sister will be left to fend for themselves. My mom hasn't worked in 13 years.

3. The check my brother wrote me for rent bounced...hence all of the checks I wrote for the bills to his building bounced too. Joy.

4. Still haven't had sex with my wife since the baby was born...5 months ago...


Life is really kicking the shit out of me lately. Thank goodness for my kids.

The Unbelievable Insanity of Me

About a week and a half ago, Thursday, I received a phone message from my "step-mom". The message said my dad was in the hospital and I needed to call her. I ignored it. She called my house and I answered the phone.

"...the doctor's can't rule out that he had a stroke".

That was the phrase I remember hearing. Quickly the background; Dad is 54 years old. He was abusive to me when I was a kid. We have been estranged several times in my life, sometimes for years and years. He is a con-man and a thug. He has been married upwards of 8 times. Currently we are not fighting though we are not exactly hanging out with each other.

I went to the hospital Friday, I did not go t work. When I got there my only full brother (I have half-siblings) was already there. He speaks to my father even less than I do, but there he was at my dad's bedside.

My dad was in a hospital robe, on his back, an I.V. in his arm, staring straight up. He couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't eat. He was apparently in tremendous pain (they were using the "blink once for yes and twice for no" method of questioning) and vomiting involuntarily and sporadically. They had taken him off of morphine (not powerful enough) and moved him onto Dilaudid and Torodal for the pain and 3 other drugs for the nausea, apparently it wasn't working. He looked old. His long hair wasn't dyed black right now, it was a dirty sort of gray/black mix. He was thin and sinking into his bed, his breathing was labored.

They had done a spinal tap to check for meningitis, it came back negative. They couldn't get him into the MRI because of the vomiting. They had promised a neurologist was on his way.

For 2 days he didn't speak, he didn't move. The doctors wanted to know everything, unfortunately my brother and I knew very little. We knew he had said he had been diagnosed with macular degeneration in his eyes; a disease where you develop a blind spot, or missing spot in the middle of your range of vision...a "skip" in your view...that "skip" grows over time until you are blind. My step-mom said she couldn't get his eye doctor to give her any info, so I called him.

The doctor explained that my dad had only been there once, although he scheduled 3 appointments over the last year, he only showed for one. The diagnosis was simple, he had blurred vision, nothing more. "Are you absolutely sure?", he was. My dad did not have macular degeneration. As usual he was a fucking liar.

Saturday the neurologist showed up finally. I was there with my step-mom were there to speak with him. He explained he believed there was pressure, probably due to swelling inside his skull. He switched my dad off of the narcotic pain relievers and onto steroids.

By Sunday morning he was in less pain, not vomiting and was in the MRI machine, although he was not happy to be in there and was now capable of letting everyone know how pissed he was.

My step-mom had been there with him, all day and all night, each day and night since Thursday and it was now Sunday. It was now that they came to tell him the results of the MRI, it was now that he could walk (barely) and speak (one/two words at a time). It was now that I was not there and the doctors explained to him about the "growth" on his brain.

I don't know exactly what happened next, but I do know he left the hospital against their pleas to stay.

The next day I got a phone call from him. He was cordial. He was calm. He explained the hospital stay and the talks with the neurologist as if I hadn't been there and as if he was not catatonic during this period. He explained that over this weekend he found out his wife had been cheating on him with the piano player in her jazz quartet, he was divorcing her, he had moved out, he did have a new house, but he couldn't tell me where just yet, he'd let me know when the time was right. He actually said that, "when the time was right", like a spy...my dad had a secret location and I wasn't authorized to know where. Oh yea, he still had a growth on his brain...we didn't talk about that.

Two days later I received a text message from him.

"Don't freak, I need some short term cash, two grand should do, no one can know"

I responded in a text message, letting him know he shouldn't freak out either, but "no" I couldn't lend him any short term cash.

Yesterday my grandmother said my dad had stopped by her house on Sunday and taken her out to a nice dinner at a very fancy restaurant and then drove her to his new house. It was very far away, and she didn't remember where exactly. She also let me know that he was getting a divorce, apparently his was had gone crazy.

I never heard from him again after I returned the text message with a "no".

Tonight I got a call from my step-mom. She called to let me know that my dad accused her of poisoning his dog and cheating on him with his doctor. He hadn't been home in two nights, she didn't know where he was.

I told her, very nicely, that I have received many of these calls over the years, from the distressed soon to be ex-wife, explaining her desire to still remain friends with me and my family after the demise of their marriage. I explained that would not be happening and told her she go on and do what's best for herself and excused myself off of the phone. We hung up.

My dad is insane. There were so much more here, but I only wanted to hit some of the highlights. I am so distracted right now, and angry.

There is every chance that my dad is on the run right now; from who or what I have no idea. He can't stop lying and he will use what he knows about me to try and manipulate me but that doesn't work on me anymore. I won't help him anymore. The difference this time is that the next time I see him the growth on his brain may have won and I may be paying for a funeral, which is fine by me.

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So the last few months, pretty much since our newest daughter was born, my wife and I seem to not be having our typical knock down drag out screaming matches. We disagree, but the wild fights have subsided. I guess you could say we are getting along, and even when we're not, its a quite sort of simmering anger.
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The other thing we haven't been doing aside from fighting is having any sort of sex. The word, "none" comes to mind here. So we are not fighting and we are not having sex, but we are being friends and talking to each other and hanging out with each other (aside from the entire month of September when Bob was in town).
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I feel like we're just friends. She isn't angry with me and I'm not complaining to her about the lack of sex, there isn't a lot of tension or anything, we're just pals. The problem is I do get horny, and I jerk off constantly and day dream about getting blow jobs from every waitress or cute woman who passes in front of me, but not from my wife, because I know she isn't interested (she has stated quite plainly that she just has no sex drive right now).
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Is this it? Is this how the rest of life goes from 36 onward? It doesn't seem like this is how it should be, but technically, we are getting along, which is way more than I could say even 6 months ago.
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fuck me. No, literally, someone please do....
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Can you really come from nowhere and having nothing and build yourself up to a place better place than you ever imagined?

It doesn't matter, because deep down, you'll always know the truth, you'll always know you're nothing and nothing can ever change that.

Um, I know this isn't a proper blog entry, its not about me at all, but this is so fucking shocking I HAD to write about it.

Apparently back in January of last year, it was rumored that the Wachowski brothers (pictured above) - who wrote and directed "Bound" and are most famously known for the Matrix trilogy - were actually the directors of "V for Vendetta", but they chose to take their name off because at the time Larry Wachoswki was undergoing gender reassignment. And yes, you read that right. He was in the middle of a sex change operation, and they wanted to avoid the media as much as possible. And it wasn't the first weird thing Larry had ever done. He also famously divorced his wife to start a relationship with a dominatrix named Ilsa Stix. So, if you're keeping score, he's now a woman, but a lesbian woman.

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Um...ok....so these are the "brothers" now....

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I have no problem with this, in fact if you've been living your life inside of the wrong body and have the resources to make the change you need, by all means go ahead and do it, but did any of you have a clue? I've always thought of these two as action adventure manly men type guys, their next film is going to be a live action version of Speed Racer for god's sakes, they seem very "manly" based on their film choices. Oh well, that's all for now.

SORRY I'VE BEEN MISSING IN ACTION.
I WILL BE BACK NEXT WEEK.
I HOPE EVERYONE HAS A GREAT HOLIDAY WEEKEND.
PLEASE ENJOY THIS REFRESHING VIDEO WHILE I AM GONE.