Archive for July, 2013

The List

K emailed a list of household items that he plans on taking when he moves out. Many of the items he brought into the relationship. The others are some of the joint purchases. The list is fair but a couple of items may need further negotiation.

I felt like I had been slapped in the face after I read the list. It was another reminder that our relationship is dead. It had nothing to do with the items on the list. I don’t know why the list had such an emotional effect on me. I’ve been trying to figure it out since Monday.

I had planned to call G about getting together again but now I’m not sure that is a good idea. I’m not sure of anything. I think I’ve been supressing my feelings and not dealing with them. I feel lost and empty once again.

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Dinner with G

The dinner on Friday night with G turned out to be a lot of fun. I met G at a restaurant that just happened to get a very favorable review in a local paper the day before. Consequently, the restaurant was busy and the service slow. I had a good time. I seem to have a lot in common with G. I told G I would call him this week. I’m not sure I’m ready to go down this road. I still feel broken and insecure.

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Updated 7/25/13

Meeting for a drink has turned into having dinner. I’m not sure I’m ready for this but I’m not backing out.

The lesbians around the corner sold their house and retired to Oregon. The house sold for top dollar in less than a week. The house is being remodeled so it will not be scraped for a bigger house. Sheila met the new owner last week. She described him as an attractive fifty-something man who definitely plays for my team. I should probably send over a welcome gift soon.

Two other houses have hit the market on Sheila’s street. Both are listed for outrageous amounts of money. It looks like people are now getting greedy. Neither house has sold.

I’m having a tough work week. I’ve been testing complex engineering rules and code. It’s the most difficult project to ever hit my desk. It’s been kicking my ass.

The woman suing my Dad over a minor parking lot fender bender suddenly dropped her 350k lawsuit. I’m not sure what caused the woman to drop her suit. She has a lengthy list of court cases for evictions and other financial actions. She probably thought my dad’s insurance company would settle out of court.

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It was bound to happen sooner or later. I didn’t think it would happened for a long time. It happened on Sunday evening. I’ve been asked to meet a guy for a drink on Friday.

I didn’t recognize the number on the caller id before I answered the phone. The caller was a man I met at a charity dinner Lee hosted a couple of months ago. I saw him again two weeks ago at a card party at Lee’s house. We barely spoke to each other as he was seated at a different table.

I was caught off guard and accepted his invitation. Now, I’m panicked. I’m not sure I’m ready to date. Perhaps it’s just drinks with a group of people and not really a date. At least he’s age appropriate and employed.

I’ve called Cindi to see if she knows him. She seems to know everyone in this town, especially Lee’s friends. She hasn’t called back.

I’m a little scared. This opens a whole new world I’m not sure I’m ready to enter.

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Hosting my first post-divorce dinner party was a lot of work but ended up being a lot of fun. Cindi dropped by before dinner to slip into a little black dress before running off to a charity event. She helped me set the table and arrange the flowers. I, in turn, zipped up Cindi’s lbd and helped put on her earrings and necklace since her broken arm is still in a cast.

Everyone seemed to have good time at dinner. The last guests left a little before midnight. I cleaned up the kitchen before going to bed as I didn’t want to walk into a dirty kitchen in the morning.

I’ve been exhausted all day. I took a three hour nap this afternoon. I would have stayed in bed a lot longer but the cat started walking over me in an attempt to roust me to prepare his dinner. I guess he didn’t feel like catching another rabbit.

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Carlos turned thirty-six last Saturday. How does a married father of two celebrate turning thirty-six? He waits until the following Friday to have lunch with the guys, takes in a movie, hits the bars after dinner at Table 6 and ends the evening at the Glendale Performing Arts Center, aka Shotgun Willie’s, a local strip club. Carlos depleted his lap dance fund a few weeks ago in Las Vegas so his friends will be paying for his lap dances tonight. Carlos invited me to join the guys after work. I declined the offer as Aaron and I are going to the Cinema Q Film Festival sponsored by the Denver Film Society. I’m tempted to stop by Shotgun’s on the way home but I suspect Carlos will be in a drunken stupor by that time. I wonder if he’ll end up passed out in the parking lot like last year.

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Leaving The Zen Garden

Jay is selling his house and looking for new digs. His house is located at the end of an unpaved road with a house to the south and unbuildable land to the north. Shortly after Owen moved in, the man living next door began harassing Jay and Owen. It started out with name calling and recently escalated into vandalizing the BMW motorcycle, which unfortunately, they lack proof he did. Restraining orders have been secured along with installation of security cameras. Numerous police reports have been filed. Jay fears for his safety and feels he has no choice but to move. Jay’s mountain Zen paradise has turned into a living hell populated by hate and violent acts. It’s a shame that ignorant people try to destroy the lives of others. Jay feels it’s better to move than end up dead on the side of a mountain.

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It’s Their Loss

I’m planning a small casual dinner for Saturday night. I invited a friend I ran into a few weeks ago who I hadn’t seen for a while. This person travels for business but as a road warrior always has his phone with him. I left a voice mail message on Saturday morning asking him to call me if he could attend.

It’s Tuesday morning. He has not called. I’m assuming he’s not attending. I’m guessing he’s too busy to respond.

I also invited Sam but he declined the invitation. His neighbor is having a pool party that starts at noon but doesn’t have an end time. His excuse for not attending was that he may meet someone at the party. Clearly, banging a guy one meets at a pool party trumps dinner with friends.

It’s going to be a nice evening with an interesting mix of people, good food, stimulation conversation and booze. It’s their loss.

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Not Guilty

I woke up this morning a little after seven with the cat snuggled next to me. The cool humid morning air had filled the bedroom. I could smell the wet garden soil saturated by the torrential thunderstorm that crashed through the city last night. I rolled out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom grabbing my robe off the hook just inside the door. The morning sun was streaming in the large glass block window over the bathtub. It looked like it was going to be a beautiful day.

The phone started ringing as I walked through the family room on my way to the kitchen. I figured it was probably Mike as he is the only person who calls this early in the morning. I answer the phone without looking at the caller id. That turned out to be a big mistake. I hear a female voice telling me Zimmerman is not guilty. It’s Trish. She starts a rant about the Zimmerman verdict. I open the front door to get the paper. She moves on to the new Texas abortion restrictions. I pull scrambled eggs and bacon out of the fridge left over from yesterday’s breakfast and pop them into the microwave. The abortion rant continues. I eat the eggs and bacon and pop a whole wheat English muffin in the toaster. The rant moves onto the war on women. I eat my muffin in the kitchen looking into the family room to find the cat drinking my milk out the glass I left on the ottoman. The rant has moved onto the NSA and Snowden. I grind coffee beans and make a pot of coffee. The rant has come back to abortion and need to support Planned Parenthood. I pour of cup of coffee and settle into the family room to watch the CBS Sunday Morning show on mute. The rant has moved onto Obama and the failures of his administration. I grab a second cup of coffee and pour in a little Kahlúa. As I settle back into the family room, paging though the Sunday paper, the rant moves onto Hillary and who she should choose for a running mate. The rant returns to abortion but soon moves onto Cecile Richards and Rachel Maddow.

Trish has been ranting for almost an hour. I have to end it. I wanted a peaceful laid back morning but that dream had been destroyed by Trish’s relentless ranting from one topic to the next and back again. I understand she is passionate about her beliefs but why can’t she be a passionate a little later in the morning? I should have cut her off sooner but I wanted to see how long the rant would last. I think it could have gone on for another hour. I finally get her to stop and end the call.

I grab my coffee and go out to garden to feed the koi. Dragon flies are buzzing around the pond. I settle into a black wrought iron chair by the pond trying to restore calm to my morning by watching the koi feast on their breakfast.

How did your day start?

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I worked out with Carlos after work yesterday. In between beating the hell out of my legs and shoulders, he filled me in on his semiannual guys’ weekend in Las Vegas with his well-heeled friends. It was also birthday celebration for Barton. Private jet, limo, suites at the Hard Rock, poolside cabana with bottle service, fancy dinners and strip clubs. Carlos dropped $1,300 on strippers and borrowed another grand from Barton on Friday night. Carlos had managed to save up a wad of cash from the weekly allowance his wife gives him so no topless club charges were billed to his credit card. Barton’s wife surprised him by showing up with the kids and a nanny on Saturday morning. Needless to say, Saturday night was not as wild as Friday night.

Carlos runs with a crowd that works hard and plays hard. They have seven figure incomes, except for Carlos who earns an average wage. All of them are married with children. The wives allow their husbands to enjoy hedonistic weekends in Vegas while they stay home in their palatial houses in posh Greenwood Village gated neighborhoods. Carlos maintains that none of the guys stray. I’m guessing that lap dances don’t count as cheating.

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