Making The Best of Things...

Got in to a fight with the wife just now. Good times. I know, I should not being having a good time fighting with my wife. I do assure you that fighting with my wife is not a good time.

Its like trying to argue astrophysics with Neil DeGrasse Tyson. You're just not going to win. For many reasons, I mean she's smart so she makes a lot of good points, but she's also persistent so if you get into it with her you are going to keep talking about whatever it is until such time as you see things her way. She is what she is.

Then she drops a fun one on me. She went with me to PA to hunt for a house. She found some places that she liked and a place or two that she'd actually consider living. So I might have been on my way to getting this whole separation from my family thing off my plate. Then we got into a big blow out on the drive home and I went and said some dumb shit about why don't we just get a divorce or some shit like that, and with that I kiboshed any chance I had of getting her to come with.

So at least to a point, I fucked myself here. Not totally, I'm not a complete moron. The majority of this shit is her deal. She doesn't want to go, so she's not going. Sure there's more to it than that, but we don't have that kind of time and I don't think that you've got that kind of attention span.

Suffice it to say, on July 11, 2019 our house will no longer belong to us. By which time, we will have moved her and all her and the kids shit to a three bedroom apartment about 5 minutes from where we live now, so I should be thankful for that, not a real haul to move her. And after that I will hop in my truck and drive the 8 to 9 hours it takes to get to my new home in Scranton, PA. At which point we will begin the indeterminate amount of time that we will spend separated from one another. She will learn what its like to be a single mom for 98% of every month for the next year or two. And I will learn the pain of being separated from my wife and children.

First things first, don't hate on my wife. I'm venting here. I'm not giving you her side of the story at all. I'm not going to tell you all of the horrible things I've done and said and been since we've been married. Again, suffice it to say, she may have a point.

Now on to the title of this post. Making the best of things. I'm going to have to. There really is no other choice. Okay, there's always another choice but as of right now, the other choices aren't as good as making the best of this shit. It is shit, but at least its our shit. Viktor Frankl once said something profound, and I'm paraphrasing here because I don't feel like looking the shit up, "There's a place between stimulus and reaction where we get to choose our attitude and what we will do, that place is where all of life is."

That phrase, more than anything else, in my humble opinion is the basis of cognitive behavioral therapy which to date, is the only thing that has even remotely helped with my PTSD. There's a split second between input and output that you can catch yourself and force your thoughts to go to a good place instead of hell. That's the place I am going to need to spend the vast majority of my time for the foreseeable future. I am going to make the best of this...anything else would be hell on earth.

This May Just Be Sticking...

So for a few years there I was writing on the regular and it was doing wonders for my mental health. Then I stopped and if my present status is any indication, I really should have kept writing. I don't know why, nor do I really care why, writing is so cathartic. But it is, so I'm grateful. If one of you lovely people out there reads some of my bullshit once or twice then alls the better.

Now, I'm getting ready for my last day of work on Friday. Okay, not my last day of work, but my last day working here in Michigan. Next up, Pennsylvania. So my career has now taken me from Illinois to Michigan to Pennsylvania. I'm really curious what's next after that, but the next step is most likely 12-24 months into the future, depending on how ambitious I end up being. Which I think could be quite a bit. Ambitiousness that is.

I've written a few days in a row now and I'm feeling pretty good about it. Plus the words are starting to flow a little easier. At one point I was thinking why write if I don't have anything to say? I think its become write and you may find that you do have something to say. I'm sure I could've phrased that so it sounded much more profound, but one thing at a time. This is stream of consciousness here not a final draft of the state of the union.

The next project I've got on my radar is a podcast. Its not that I want a million listeners or for it to be anything in particular. I really just want to do it. I want to remind myself that I can set a goal and accomplish it. I haven't knocked out that fucking master's degree yet....but that's a story for another time.

Given that my lovely wife is blessing me with 12-24 months sans midgets (kids) I think this is about the best time I could hope to get to do a few things for myself. Podcast and master's degree. That would make for a really fucking good year. Then if I could drop a few lbs and save a few bucks all would be right in the world.

One Day Without...

Having to talk about all this lovely shit has been a God send. Unfortunately, its because my youngest daughter is sick. Thank goodness for day care and the lovely little disease factory that it is.

If you want your grown children to have strong immune systems, well get them into day care as soon as you can. they'll be sick from pretty much the first day until you take them out of the little pitrie dish. So they'll be sick all year when you can get rid of them, and they'll be perfectly healthy all summer when you can't. How convenient.

So now here she sits and I gotta take another day off of work to take care of her. Not that I mind, I mean any good reason to not go to work is a good thing in my book. I'm not sure that my boss feels the same way, but not to worry. He will only be my boss until Friday. After that my next boss is in Pennsylvania. You know, where Vampirina lives.

So she's got an apartment. She's got a job. She's got the kids in school and day care. Its not like she doesn't have her shit at least fairly wired tight. I can't take that away from her, its not like she's irresponsible or a crack head. I suppose I should be glad.

But I only have one thing left that I can do, I mean this is happening whether I like it or not. So I may as well lighten the fuck up and make the best of it. Not for her sake, absolutely not. She doesn't have anything coming for this little stunt she's pulling. But why should I be unhappy because she can't pull her head out of her ass? Why should I be miserable because she has issues with her psyche? Fuck that, not my circus, not my monkeys.

I think that's about the healthiest outlook I could have on this shit. I mean, there's no doubt in my mind that this episode she's currently in has warped her brain. For fucks sake she still swears up and down that we're not separating! How the fuck is living 8 hours apart driving not separating? If that's not separating I don't know what is.

But back to me, the only thing, the only reasonable thing I can do anymore is to make the best of this. Now exactly what does that mean? That's something we'll cover the next time I sit down to tip tap away at this keyboard.

Hold Your Tongue...

Kinda been a theme in my life that I run off at the mouth quickly and without a whole lot of thought. Its just what I do. Its what I've always done. In some cases it has served me well, in others, not so much.

Here in my marriage it has not served me well at all, to the point that it has led us to the brink of divorce. I'm fairly certain we are just about there. She seems to think that sending me off to Pennsylvania and keeping herself and my children in Michigan is nothing more than a speed bump. I tend to think a little differently.

I most likely deserve this shit. I won't even try to say that I didn't have this coming. I made my bed...she said don't take me to another place like fucking Mayberry and I did. So such is life. What else can I say, the past is done, we can only deal with the going forward part of this whole thing.

So she's got a job. She's looking for an apartment. I'm moving to PA come July 11 and that as they say is that. I'll be staying in a house in Scranton for the first few months, then I'll find an apartment or maybe a cheap house and settle in for the 18 months to 2 years that I hope is all this separation takes. In the meantime, we'll both be doing whatever it is people do when they're separated, which is to say horrible things that neither one of us will want to cop to after this is all over.

But basically, through all of this the one thing that keeps jumping out at me is my impulsiveness is what continually ruins everything for me. I can't keep my shit wired tight for nothing. Whatever bullshit comes to mind that will make me feel better right at that moment is what comes shooting out of my filthy sewer. Which obviously is about as useful as a football bat.

How the fuck will I ever learn to hold my tongue? How will I learn to play chess instead of checkers? How will I learn how to not be such a woman about all of this shit? So far, I've failed miserably at all of these tests. But I've still got some time to make it right, and I've got the separation to control myself and accomplish some fucking goals. I mean how many men are gifted a couple years of basically being single again during their marriages? Then again, this is not voluntary so it doesn't take much of the sting out.

Either way, impulsiveness has got to go. Tongue, has got to be held. No choice. It is what it is.

What To Do...

When your wife wears a shorter skirt to her "Girls Night Out" than she does to your date night?

Its an interesting question. One I never thought I'd have to be asking or answering that is for damn sure. So my wife has been testing me I believe. Much like females are bound to do. They get bored. So you must never be boring. To my knowledge they'd rather be abused than bored.

But I've gotten boring. I have certainly abdicated my throne in the house that is for sure. Not 100% sure why I did so, but that is neither here nor there right now. More important is the question of how do I move forward with this? Do I move forward with this, or do I just walk.

There's a certain amount of investment in this that I don't want to walk away from. There is that. I mean its been 8 years and 2 kids, who are still young so I'll be paying child support on for years to come, but I'd be doing that either way so I suppose that is a wash. She has taken to this fairy tale land of Kik chat rooms. She's started using the slang of the milieu which makes me laugh to hear because they treat it like its a real thing. Actually, I take that back, the trouble is, to them it is real. They have and create drama in the rooms. People getting power and losing it. People starting and ending relationships. People abusing one another from their lofty positions as an "admin"

She spends hours doing this everyday. She stays up till 1 or 2 am doing this shit. And she doesn't seem to see a thing wrong with it. She doesn't seem to see anything wrong with spending this much time in a virtual social scene when her husband and 2 kids are sitting here wondering where the fuck mommy went.

Then they started getting together in real life. Okay, so at least that pulls some of this shit from the virtual to the real which I suppose is a step in the right direction, but then she spends all night out with them. Oh yeah, that went over like a fart in church. Now she's at it again.

Then there was the night we went to meet one of her new friends. Went fine for about an hour. Then I got to spend the rest of the night watching TV in a bar because they are talking about getting "rolled" out of chat rooms because they don't want to be in them anymore. Nice job doll. You tried to include me then when we got there you excluded me.

I think this one is going down in flames. I sure hope not, but I imagine there's someone out there ringing her bell.

Hypergamy...

So the internet is a wonderful place. I learn all sorts of new things, seemingly every day I learn something new.

Recently I learned a new word. Hypergamy.

Basically, the act of marrying someone from a higher social class than yourself.

Normally, its used to refer to gold digging women.

However, I might be crazy but I've got a few thoughts on the subject because you hear it a lot when you're looking at the "manosphere" Or what some have billed as men's rights or the male answer to feminism.

I'm not going to get into all the ideas of either camp. That'll take way too long and it will most likely lead to a lot of...well bullshit.

So I'm going to confine myself to hypergamy. The idea that women marry up. Which if you listen to Jordan Peterson (and I do) is a well documented fact. Not a universal truth but on average women marry across and up dominance hierarchies. While men typically marry across and down dominance hierarchies.

Simple way to picture it is: Male doctor's marry lots of female nurses. Female doctors very rarely if ever marry male nurses. They marry other doctors.

I think that any person who has observed society for any length of time can say that yes this is a true idea. Again, its not true in every case, but by in large it is the case. Now the denizens of the manosphere think this is proof positive that women are inherently broken. They shouldn't act in this way. The spectrum of vitriol on this ranges from the "women are evil because they won't let me fuck them" side to the " women are a game to be won so that I can fuck them" side.

Regardless of how you feel about the issue its not female hypergamy that I want to talk about. Its the male form. You don't see a lot of men lining up to get into the morbidly obese school bus driver do ya? The waitress who works the graveyard shift at IHOP isn't exactly beating off the suitors is she?

My question about this is simple, and it begs so many other questions that its staggering but the question is this: Why is having standards such a bad thing?

Men who don't have jobs or ambitions, or intelligence or discipline or any of the myriad of other things that will help determine success or failure with women should not be allowed to breed!!!

Women who don't have intelligence, discipline, ambitions, the ability to make themselves sexually appealing to a high quality male or to earn the money that they want to live the life they desire should not be allowed to breed!!!

Its eliminating the shallow end of the gene pool. Its making sure that the next generation is stronger than this one so that it can flourish. There is nothing wrong with standards. As a matter of fact I'm almost 100% certain that the world, men, women and every institution we have needs a good solid raising of its standards. We are letting entirely too many fat, stupid, useless, lazy pieces of shit have kids.

Okay, now I'm getting off topic. But truthfully, I think hypergamy is just a awful sounding name for women having standards for men. A woman doesn't want a fat ass, she should be ashamed of herself. A man doesn't want a fat ass and he should be burned at the stake for being sexist. A woman wants a rich guy and she's a gold digger...maybe she's just using her head. The idea goes both ways and if you listen to the internet you'd think male-female relationships are in a state of complete and utter clusterfuckery.

I don't think so. As opposed to hating the game, I think men as well as women should concentrate on being better at it. So people, if the opposite sex isn't that into you, or the caliber of the opposite sex that you're getting isn't in tune with what you want, don't bitch. Play the game better. Get into better shape. Make more money. Get smarter. Get more interesting. We all know what the opposite sex is attracted to, its not a state secret. Make yourself more like that.

Get better. Get a better mate. Have better children. Level up the world. Its the one thing you can do on a microscale that will butterfly effect its way out into the generations and raise the standards of the whole human race.

Stop whining about the standards. Raise yourself to meet, and even better exceed the standards.