Big Day, New Chapter

Well, I just got up a few minutes ago--a little after 7 am. For anyone who knows me, you know that has been the closer to my typical going to bed time these last couple months than my getting up time. Yesterday, I could really feel the pressure and stress of trying to get everything done before I head out. Being organized and staying focused just don't seem to be my strengths in life, at least not in preparation for a trip. I can't wait to find me a woman someday to be my brain for things like that. And now that you already think I'm lame for saying that, I'll confess something else to make me sound even more lame: my Mom is helping me get packed, and before almost every big trip she either writes out a packing list, or if I'm away from home, I will often call her to see if she can think of anything I've forgotten. But I'm okay with that, and you can make fun of me all you want. At least I know how to pack my camping gear and survive out in the woods for weeks at a time if I want to. In my opinion my Grizzly Adams qualities more than even out my Mama's Boy qualities.

So, I'm up early and I got a good night's rest--I'm feeling better and more rested than I have felt in weeks! I'm a veritable plethora of energy, a walking, talking human dynamo! I need to jump on this rare extremely positive moment in my life and get things done before I feel the need to come back here with one of my griping, complaining, whining entries. I figure I've got about 15 minutes--60 minutes tops--before the positivity and coffee buzz suddenly wear off.

I'm going to clean out my poor little car. Sometime during your day, have a moment of silence in honor of my 1987 Toyota Tercel. I bought her a month or so before I left for Florida back in 2002. Between now and then, she took me to Florida and back and some 10 times I'd guess. During my time down in Hell, she never once did me wrong until about 6 months before I left Florida for good. A few light bulbs, a tire or two, some oil and gas was about all she ever asked of me. But late last year, she was diagnosed with carburetor problems--sort of like a lung issue in humans for those of you non-car types--we tried to get her fixed when I came back to Cincinnati, but to no avail. Now, if she doesn't find a good home through Ebay--you can sell almost anything on Ebay--she's going to a junkyard up the road...................(moment of silence)..........(someone trying to quietly cough in the background).............(I hear people shuffling there feet and hands so I guess this moment of silence is nearly up)......okay, so that's one item on the agenda today.

Item 2, get a hotel for tomorrow night. Ugh, if anyone out there is good at finding hotel deals would you please let me know??? I hate it and don't think I'm particularly good at it. Anyway, I tried Priceline last night, and so far, I cannot find anything below about $40/night! And that's before they tack on those horrendous tourist taxes of 10-20%!!! It's robbery! I'm probably going to get screwed on this first trip, but after this one, I plan on trying to find people who are looking for boarders/roommates so that I can save some money and actually have a little human contact with others. Anyway, that's item 2.

Third, I guess it would be a good idea to finish packing. This is where Mom proves invaluable. She is the master. She will fold my clothes even though I never ask her to. I think it's become more just the comfort of knowing Mom's love is in my packed gear more so than that I need my stuff all folded and neatly organized. As far as I'm concerned I never met a wrinkle that I couldn't get along with. But she on the other hand, ranks them up there with Spiders and Snakes. So, I go along with it, just to have her hands' blessings on my stuff.

Fourthly, I need to get all my junk around here packed away and hidden before I leave. If I leave it lying out, then who's to say where my Mom will put it when I'm gone, what might get roached by my Brother or Dad.....note to self and to my viewing audience: I definitely have to hide my toolbox from Dad.....he's horrible at leaving tools scattered around the garage or somehow osmosizing my tools into his own collection of tools. Although, I do admit, I've done it a few times to his tools as well. I need to get my stuff put away for sure, not to mention the fact that it would just be considerate of me to not leave a huge mess on their hands when I'm gone.

Fifth, call Juliette and see if she wants to come over to say bye. To those of you who don't know her, and I guess to those of you who do know her, she will always hold a place of honor in my flying career. It was her encouragement and chiding me when I needed to get motivated that helped me get the nerve to quit my job in insurance, figure out what I really wanted to do career-wise, and then actually take the leap and do it. I hope someday I have the courage to let you read this blog of mine Jules. I hope you know how grateful I am to you!

Sixth, I've got to go to the bank, get money, sign my car title over to Mom, maybe get some jeans at the store--though it wouldn't surprise me a bit if I somehow manage to put that one off till I get down to Virginia. I absolutely hate running errands and shopping or almost any variation thereof.

Well, that about does it for now. I need to get going. Besides I've got company coming over to my brand new blog for the first time! I've got to make everything nice and neat before she shows up. I'm soooo excited! Hey, btw Melissa, thanks for giving me the idea and the inspiration to start this up. What a great idea this was to do this :)

Countdown to leaving Cincinnati....again....ugh

Okay, well I warned you in the Introduction what you were in for with my journal, so I don't have any sympathy for you for if you feel like you just wasted 3 minutes of your life by the time you get done reading this entry. If that's how you feel afterwards, why don't you just head on over to your own blog and complain to your own dedicated readers....if you don't have one, then start one. I'm a blogger, she's a blogger, wouldn't you like to be a blogger too? You win a cookie if you can tell me what commercial jingle I'm mimicking there. Oh, by the way, I welcome comments, preferably ones that are encouraging, empathetic and have the phone number of a cute dark-haired girl that wants to talk to me! I've sort of got the Charlie Brown thing going, only I tend to be partial to dark hair, not red hair.

Okay, so enough meaningless chitter-chatter. On to business, I didn't mean for this entry to become entertaining. This one is going to be your first experience with my ability to whine, complain, worry and fret all at the same time. I'm good at it. I've come to learn about myself that no matter what good thing happens to me, I have a tremendous knack for finding something new to worry over. If you don't believe me, you'll soon find out.

The title says "Countdown to leaving Cincy....blah blah blah"--something to that effect anyway. And sure enough, I'm leaving good ol' home this coming Wednesday night. I'm going Greyhound (yippee) to Hampton, Virginia for my new job as an aerial imaging pilot. For the next few months--in fact, probably almost 100% of the time until I quit the job--I will be flying a little Cessna 172 from one jobsite to the next, staying in one place anywhere from one week to a month or more, living out of hotels or if I'm fortunate, finding temporary housing with friends or people looking for boarders.....I'll say roommates, that makes me sound less like a nomad or drifter. I know the bouncing around from place to place and always having to rent a car and eat out is going to get old fast.

I just finished one of the loneliest times in my life when I lived down in Florida for a little over 2 1/2 years for my flight training and then working as an instructor. I've told several people that I'd rather go through my divorce all over again than to have to go through that lonely experience again. I didn't know a soul when I moved down there, and to be honest, I never did make any really good friends down there. You know, the kind of friends that you really enjoy hanging out with and help get you through the rough times. And on top of that, I can count on both hands the number of dates I went on down there. It has been sooooo long since I've had a girlfriend! And it's been just as long since I've......uhh, had sex. Ugh, how frustrating it is to be a single christian guy sometimes.

I'm going to get a couple things out in the open about myself right now. First of all, if you read about me, you saw that I'm a christian. Well, God has seen fit to make it clear to me that sex is something only to be had in marriage.....not that I haven't made a few boo boo's along life's journey. But, after a few broken relationships after my divorce, I finally made up my mind to obey Him, at least in that one respect. It has been, oh, I'd say almost 4 years since I've enjoyed the pleasure of sex! I'm about ready to explode! Let me tell you, if and when I ever do find someone special again, God help me to control my desires! And then if we marry, God help my wife! I've heard that a guy's sex drive begins to diminish after his 20's. I don't know what they're talking about, and I don't think they know either. Now, while you're thinking I'm some goody-two-shoes or whatever that term is, let me tell you another thing about myself. I struggle with a lot of sexual vices such as porn, telephone and internet chats, the big M, going nuts whenever I see a woman in a bathing suit. I guess some people think all that is just normal behavior in our day, but being a christian, I know it's not. And it tears me up inside struggling with it. Living out of hotels and being a nomad for the next 3-9 months is going to be a challenge to put it nicely. I pray and pray and pray for God's help. I just hope I'm not too stubborn to walk the path He lights for me in the coming days, weeks, and months.

So, I'm glad I got that out of the way. Even though you and I may never meet in real life or talk, I always feel like those things about me are hanging over my head until I share them. It's like you want someone to know you, but you're afraid and confused as to how much and when you should share certain things. Obviously, the whole addiction to porn and its friends is a skeleton in the closet of my life, but it's sad that so often, I also feel like the fact that I'm trying to be celibate until if or when I'm married is also something that needs to be thrown in that closet full of shame, guilt, and embarrassment. If a single guy doesn't have a girlfriend or is not at least getting laid every now and then, he's obviously gay--that's how I feel society's perception is at times. And truthfully, I can't say that I'm really happy with my decision to be celibate most of the time either. There are so many times when I get frustrated and angry with God for not hiding His ways from me, so that I could with a conscience free of guilt, join in on all the bed-hopping and weekend sex with a girlfriend/boyfriend that it seems the rest of the single world is enjoying. Oh, please remind me that I'm not the only 20- or 30- or 40-something that is swimming against this current! Because most of the time, that is exactly how it feels. You know, now that I think about it, I don't think it's the lack of sex that is so hard to deal with in being celibate. Of course, that is difficult, but I think what is even more challenging are the feelings of being alone in the struggle to be pure morally. It is lonely enough being single, but add to that the insecurity and looks of astonishment and feelings of being the only person on earth not having sex on a Friday or Saturday night--Wow, I can't believe I'm being so honest about all this!

One thing I have found about myself when I write is that it often helps me to understand much better afterwards what all is swirling around in my head. It's like it's a huge maelstrom of sour, unpleasant feelings and emotions mixed in with the circumstances of my life--some good, some not so good--along with a few positive emotions as well--all swimming around up in my head. And until I take the time to put pen to paper so to speak, so often I go through the days of my life not having a clue as to what is going on up there.

Well, as sometimes happens, I got off on some tangents that I never intended to take. TMI for some of you, perhaps, but I warned you. But before I go and try to catch a little sleep, let me add to my complaints of sexual frustration, guilt, shame and fear, that I am experiencing a medium level of stressed-outedness over trying to get a bunch of errands and chores done before I have to leave Wednesday night. Also, I always dread leaving behind my friends and family. I was sincerely hoping that when I came back home from Florida around Christmas that would be the last time I'd have to move away. Such was not to be. I hope this job will be the last time I have to be gone for an extended period from those I love dearly. As much as I love flying, life isn't all about that. While I lived down in Florida, for the first time, I really came to dislike goodbyes. They are absolutely no fun. Ugh, how I hate them. I hate the time leading up to a goodbye, the goodbye itself and then the few minutes following a goodbye. Concentrated sadness is what it is.

Okay, so you've had your first dose of me barfing up my feelings, of me laying my dirt out in the open, of me complaining and whining about how hard I have it. Was it as enjoyable for you as it was for me??? But seriously folks, you've been a great audience tonight, take care and drive home safely tonight :)

Introductions

Hey all, I am curious to find out who, if anyone, will actually think my journal is read-worthy enough to pop in from time to time to read about me. I promise to give you lots of whining, griping and complaining about all the hardships and frustrations and self-critiquing that seems to accompany me on my second time around being a single christian guy. Going on how I've used a private journal in the past, I suspect you will get quite a bit of dirt on me. I've often considered burning my old journals because upon rereading old entries, it seemed like nothing more than a barfing session with my attempting to purge myself of days, weeks, months of pent up guilt, shame, anger, sadness, and other miscellaneous forms of pain. The funny thing is that if you were ever to meet me in person, judging from what my friends and family say about me, you'd most likely think I was a pretty friendly and positive guy to hang out with. Maybe a little odd, and maybe somewhat of a nerd or goofwad at times, but nonetheless, a "good guy." But I guess my own harshness with myself slips out more often than I tend to think, because most would also say that I'm too hard on myself. I am my own worst critic and enemy at times.

On another slant to this journal, I do tend to express myself best through writing. I have written some 40 or so poems--usually when I'm either very inspired or going through a really trying time in life. And every now and then I've been known to have a topic pop into my head and run with it in an essay form. Occasionally I even entertain myself with my writings.

Here you are guaranteed a good number of boring entries for when you need some reading material to put you to sleep; another fair share of entries to remind you that there is always someone who is a little more confused, screwed up, and demented than yourself; several where you will just want to jump through the screen and yell at me to stop my whining and complaining because my life really isn't that hard and I am just making tough for myself; a few that will make you laugh or at least smile; and every now and then, I will write something that will cause you to say to yourself, "Wow, I'd like to meet this guy!"

So, with that warning, here begins the story of the fabulously fascinating (notice the alliteration) life of........you thought I was going to say my name, didn't you? Hehe, I'm not quite that much of an open book ;)