How I plan to waste my night

Best new show not on TV

If Shanklin were still my roomate

This would be my life

Pappaw

My wife is currently vacationing at her dad's. He remarried a couple of years ago for the third time and relocated to Florida (which apparently he has wanted to do for years). I have begun to understand him more and realize that we are more similar than I ever imagined. He doesn't really like forced or unnatural interaction with people but while I embrace my complexities while attempting to quell my natural inhibitions for the sake of my wife/family, he will not compromise. He has been behaving more in line with his natural proclivities as of late and the new wife is not dealing with the change very well. He chose to present a reformed version of himself to her during the courtship and as of late has allowed this reformation to retard. We all began to believe that he actually had changed and seemed to be genuine in being generally cuddlier in his personality but according to the wife, this may not be the case. He is not capable of bending to the will of others. He is just generally annoyed at things not being as he feels they should. The presence of iron willed son has definitely exacerbated their current situation. My father in law has always lived with women in his adult life and he has a powerful personality. He is accustomed to getting his way in everything. He would even plan each night of the week what they would have for dinner. This detail to minutiae gives him comfort as he needs a high level of control to deal with life. I relate to this compulsion in many ways but also have the foresight to understand that thia action does not lend oneself to fostering productive relationships with the people that you love. You ultimately only have master/slave relationships with resentment dwelling only slightly beneath the surface, hence the 3rd marriage. So anyway it has been interesting for me to see how my wife, who will go to great lengths to keep her father happy, has had to adapt to seeing how son is so much like his father that he bucks at any and all attempts by his beloved Pappaw to break his natural tendencies to be the lil' badass that he is. I personally understand the frustration in that you want to be able to conrtol a small child and that is not to say that I can't but I am conflicted b/c I feel that he should get to experience life on his own terms as long as it isn't gonna get him hurt or hurt someone else. I personally enjoy that the boy sings his "Thomas the Train" songs in the stylings of death metal but Pappaw appaarently not so much. I suppose that the underlying message that has been illuminated to me is that when you love someone you gotta compromise on damn near everything. I watch cartoons all day long, am way more knowledgable about hair care products and make up than any man should be, and up until this week, haven't had a night out with the boys in years. Compromise. The funny part of the thing is that you do all these things so gradually and unconsciously that they seem like a natural progression. When men are alone and being honest, women don't really change us from the boys that they fell in love with but we grow up into the men that we hope that they will wanna grow old with...or I guess you just keep swinging for the fences like Pappaw.

Owning up to being over 30

I decided that I' m ready to be 30. Which at 31 isn't such an awesome thing to say. I am sure that doesn't seem like much of a statement but for me being over 30 means so many things. I hope that I can properly convey all my random musings into this journal. I am finally becoming comfortable with me. I have mistakenly felt at was at this point several times in my life but these have been outnumbered by the times that I have felt like a complete failure. It's always amusing for me when I realize how our perception of someone differs from their personal thoughts on themself. I say that b/c I know that most of the people that I still encounter think I have it together while I feel like I hang by a ever dissolving thread. I still remember the first time that this became so clear for me. I was in my senior year of high school. We were engaging in a class discussion on something trivial like prom or the sort and I was making my point. When suddenly this girl who I barely knew says something to the effect of "Well, it's not as easy for all of us like it is you". I was so taken aback. I grew up middle class (and in this group, I was certainly in the lower half), have/had relatively low self esteem, have/had a small group of friends, and wasn't exactly the class valedictorian. What made my life so perfect to her. I am not here to be all poor me b/c high school wasn't difficult for me. I was as popular as I wanted to be and never felt anything other than any self imposed exile (by which I mean some kids don't long for the staus-quo). However, it's not like I was any happier than anyone else. I had plenty of down days. I have struggled with severe depression for all of my life. The only difference was I had people that I didn't want to disappoint. I would have ended my life during these periods of depression if not for the fact that I didn't them to have to question what they had done wrong. Which wasn't anything. That didn't mean that many a Sunday night I wouldn't drive to the railroad tracks and race the train seriously pondering whether or not to just turn the car into those headlights. I guess I am just saying that I am glad that had a strong enough compulsion to not quit.
so here I am...31, bald, 20 pounds overweight, and finally ready to grow up. I recently have come to accept my life's decisions and their repercussions. I joined the military back in 98 b/c I needed to finally finish something. I am staying in for the same reason. It has made me a better person as I have expanded my circle of acquaintance and have found that ultimately while I enjoy being to relate to someone on a superficial level (You love the same music and TV shows as me... that's awesome); that alone isn't what makes me happy. I much prefer someone that I can have a deeper connection for my occasional interaction. Someone who understands the intricacies of the our electoral process, why I struggle with my spirituality over the underrepresented value in allowing oneself to be completely reliant on their God (to be discussed in greater length in future blogs as I plan to continue this conversation later), and how are we going to continue policing the world with an ever expanding budget deficit have become far more important bullet points to a powerful friendship.
I have really digressed from my original intent with this blog. I was just reading an article on blogging on how 'zines were started by college kids working shitty jobs with unsupervised access to corporate copiers. The main thing that I got out of the article was how we have begun exposing our inner monologue to the world and how that occurrence is somewhat bizarre. Imagine if you just took a diary to work everyday and asked your co-workers to read it and comment. I suppose that is an extreme example as I find that most people over the age of 40 will engage in inanely personal conversation with complete. Is blogging truly any more difficult to understand than the lady in front of me at the checkout telling about her purchases or her personal life (my kid/ grand kid loves x and hates x and looking to me for feedback)? I feel compelled to understand and engage these people more than ever in my quest to join them in a more accepted form of normalcy. --side note...this point brings me to the Showtime series "Dexter" about a serial killer who is so far removed from normal human emotion that he creates an outward facade of insincere emotions to better interact with co-workers/girlfriends/family. I have become so drawn to this character solely based on my "everyday" interactions with the general public.
This went nowhere but I have so much going in my head right now that I am not sure where to stop/start. Most likely the result of signing up for four more years (already three years into these conditions) of working alone in a box.