Friday, June 06, 2008


X admonished me the other day. "Why weren't you this way when we were married?" Oddly, she said this soon after she said, "I like your shirt," and "Those sunglasses look good on you," and "Your shoulders are getting big."

She clearly didn't realize the tilt the question would inflict upon me. I thought it was insensitive. I told her so. Even moreso, it was fucking ironic.

What spawned this hot probe? My wanderlust. I don't want to live here any more. Number of reasons. Soulless corporate exurb. The tenuous nature of the industry in which I am employed. The bubbling desire to find a niche where I belong instead of hemmed in between my neighbors, lovers of 4x4s and neck tattoos. At the most basic, it's time for a change.

The reason I feel like I can make such a move right now is because I'm not running away from anything. I am, for lack of a better term, peaceful. I'm taking care of business (every day). My days of spending all my blood on the concerns of others are through. I'll not deny myself, mask my own needs and wants, in pursuit of others and theirs. Which has left me with a singular question.

What ARE my needs and wants?

I admit to you, I had no answer to this question when I first posed it. Face and brain more empty than the Seattle Mariner trophy case ("There's no fucking easy way out of this!"). By now, I have some suspicions.

One of them is I want more experience and to get it in a manner that is initially terrifying. Out on the last limb. Not thinking about why I CAN'T do it, but the reasons I should.

The complication, of course, is AJ. I won't leave him. In the conversation where I mentioned half a dozen places where I would like to start looking for jobs, X gave a thumbs up to each. But she won't leave. Because The Douchebag won't. Because he's "established" here.

Get the irony?

She laments that I wasn't more open to adventure/moving/limb walking, yet she is consigning herself to a person who is confident in the depth of his roots and will be going nowhere for the next 20, 30 years. Won't even entertain the idea of moving to be near his children (Austin, TX, for the record and I'd totally move there so April could be my designated driver).

All of which leaves me with a life out of my control, in the hands of someone with whom I've no connection at all. This, ultimately, will not stand.


At 1:00 PM, Blogger donkeypuncher said...

Was Chicago on the list?

Oh, the damage that could be done in Austin, Mass

At 1:26 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

We don't need no more stinkin' Californians in Austin.

Just kidding, come on down, would be glad to have you.


At 5:33 PM, Blogger BigPirate said...

You heartless bastard. You know poets need to live in a "soulless corporate exurb" of a plastic city 1000 miles from their kids. It provides the required angst. Or tension. Or some such shit.

I would say wait a few years and things will change. I fear there might be velcro on that one though.

As for wanderlust, I watch "It's a Wonderful Life" as a horror movie. Every time George Bailey gets to the edge of town and stops to look back only to see a run on the bank or a floozy in trouble, I scream "Run George! Run! Don't look back. GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Dumb bastard keeps going back though. Sometimes, we've got to pull a Bailey.

Hope you wander down South one day.

At 9:51 PM, Blogger elizabeth said...

i recommend charlotte, for the record. imagine all the fun that could be had with the bracelet. plus, i'm an ace babysitter. bring aj with ya.

At 12:57 PM, Blogger The Bracelet said...

We could start an outdoor team full of gambling degenerates who are past their playing prime.

Prop bets will fly on goals and assists, nutmegs and flicks, and penalties by Mexicans.

It'll be grand.

At 8:12 AM, Blogger Joaquin "The Rooster" Ochoa said...

Why go to those lame ass cities when you can come to NYC. There is a flight to LA every hour if you need to rush home and see AJ.

I need not tell you about the nights on the town with The Rooster...dear god!

Best of luck Speaker and I'm not sure why you continue to talk to X on get all in a huff about it...I can tell in your writing.

At 2:50 PM, Blogger Falstaff said...

I could run the betting lines on the team of aging degenerates...oh wait, I guess I'd BE one of the aging degenerates.

So I also vote Charlotte.


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