The End or Just a Continuation?

I haven't posted in a long while, but that hasn't been for lack of things going on.  Today I'm here to voice some personal feelings on a personal issue, mostly just to get them out of my head.

My wife and I decided we'd like to try and have a kid shortly after we got married (about 5 months ago).  Knowing that she had some previous medical issues that could raise problems we consulted a doctor.  And that doctor refereed us to another doctor who referred me to another doctor.  A sperm doctor.  And it turns out that I don't have any.

Sperm, that is, not doctors.  I'm sterile, seedless, infertile.


We had planned for most eventualities, and not having a kid was one of them.  And logically, the pros and cons of having a kid versus not having one all evened out, so there's not too much lost.

Except my manhood.  And I feel very silly for saying that, but it's true.

I never had any concept of myself as a manly man, I never had any manly pride until I met Wendy.  She gave me a reason to feel proud, to be a man, and to be proud of being a man.  Eventually that manly pride became overwhelming and I cut it back, put myself in place, trimmed shit up all nice and neat.  However, this event has shown me that I still have a large degree of that silly pride, and it's now wounded.  I feel like less of a man, like an incomplete person.  Can't be too tough if your gun's loaded with blanks, know what I mean?

And it's all very fucking silly.  Of all the shit I could be upset with about in my life, I'm dragged into depression over not being able to have kids.

That hurts more than I'd like to admit.

I wanted a child of my own.  I wanted to give my wife a child.  I wanted (and here's more of that stupid manly pride) to give my father an heir.  I wanted to prove myself as a father, raise a good child who would go on to be happy and bring others happiness.  And now I can't, most likely.

In the end, there's still the urologist.  The problem might be fixable, and I shouldn't be this fucked up over it.

But I am.

New Beginnings and Old Memories

I haven't blogged in a goodly while, and while I apologize to my non-existent readership, I can't promise I'll do better.  Being employed has taken up more of my time than I expected, leaving me less time to interface with the new wife, which leaves me even less time for personal things like reading, video games, and writing.  I haven't had a normal full time job (excluding summer jobs) since 2006, so I'm in unfamiliar territory.  I've never been good at time management so a lot of things just don't get the time they deserve, my wife included.  Anywho, enough about time, let's talk about time!

That's right, it's New Year's Eve.  Whoop-de-fucking-doo.  I know it's supposed to be this time of change and renewal, and all that jazz, but anymore it just means I have to remember to write not only a new month but a new year on my checks as well.  But I suppose we can do that "year in remembrance" thing.

Twenty-ten was a year of ups and downs.  Lots of them.  I'd normally say more downs than ups, but considering how well off I am at the moment I'd have to go with ups being at least equal to downs, if not pulling ahead.  In terms of change, the ups take it hands down, but it was a come from behind victory.  I'd list actual events, but I have no concept of time at all, and coupled with my notoriously bad memory, I can't remember when shit actually happened, how it happened, and if it happened at all.  (Pro Tip: Make up a bullshit story about me owing you a favor and chances are I'll buy it just because I assume that I forgot all about it.)

As for the year to come, well I'm not really sure what to expect.  A bigger apartment would be nice, but that will cost more.  Having a child would be fucking awesome, but that too costs more.  And both, well that would just about bankrupt my ass despite the latter requiring the former.  Really, all I hope to accomplish is getting my shit straight and setting Wendy and I on a good track forward.  Our future goals are well within grasp if we can just keep our shit together long enough to obtain them.  You want a New Year's resolution?  How about making a long term life plan and sticking to it.  That's my resolution.

On a related note, I'm going to take a stand against this middle of winter new year shit.  Why not spring?  I remember reading somewhere (and I'm sure some of you can confirm/correct me on this) that the beginning of spring used to be when pre-christian folks would celebrate the new year.  I like that idea: lots of warmth, regrowth, and new beginnings.  So if you really want to celebrate the new year with me, wait 3 or 4 months, then we'll party.

The Most Fucking Retarded Movie...

is Richard Donner's 1978 superhero piece of shit, Superman.

First off, Lois Lane (Margot Kidder) is the ugliest woman in that entire fucking movie, and that includes Martha Kent.

Secondly, Lex Luthor shouldn't be surrounded by morons and incompetents.  The man's a filthy rich genius, he can afford better help.

Third, and most fucking important is that I can't stand it when a movie, television show, or whatever doesn't follow it's own rules.  You see, every universe has a set of rules that make it work, and the universe of 1978's Superman is no exception.  If Superman exists in that universe and his powers function the way they do because of the reasons they give, then fucking awesome.  Those are the rules.  However, now that you've established those rules, you can't go fucking with them!  Logic still has to function, even if it's a logic that includes Superman.

*Spoiler alert, in case you haven't seen a 32 year old movie.*

I'll buy, in the universe of the movie, that the rotation of the Earth is what controls time.  It's insane, and makes no fucking sense, but I'll go with it.  However, time works like time does.  If you spin the Earth to make time reverse, then every fucking thing goes back in time.  The car un-crushes, the damn un-collapses, the fissure in the ground seals up.  It will even reverse the death of an ugly bitch.  What it will fucking not do is allow for Jimmy Fucking Olsen to be in the middle of nowhere, right where Superman left him before he reversed time.

Yes, this entire argument is based on Jimmy Olsen not being at the Hoover Dam.  It pissed me off that much.

The dam began to collapse, Superman saves Jimmy, Lois dies, time is reversed, and somehow in that reversal of time, Jimmy Olsen exists in a bubble of unaffected time and remains right where Superman left him.  Bull Fucking Shit.  Not to mention that if Superman can travel so fucking fast that he can make the fucking planet rotate in the other direction then he can fucking fly fast enough to stop two fucking nuclear missiles.

"But he couldn't fly that fast until the death of Lois pushed him beyond his limits" you say.  Fine, fuck you.  Then he should have kept time fucking flowing backwards until the missiles hadn't been launched yet then go and fucking stop them.  Reversing time just enough to save Lois didn't fucking save the other countless lives that the detonation of a nuclear missile causes, whether directly or indirectly from the ensuing earthquakes.  Letting that missile detonate, and possibly killing people in the process, was irresponsible of Superman.  Besides, fuck that noise, if he can reverse time then he can go back in time and save Jonathan Kent, or stop Hitler or all sorts of shit.  And don't give me that shit about his dad telling him not to fuck with human progress, that's bullshit.  Dude's a superhero, if that's not fucking with natural human progress then I don't know what would.

Other than that, not a bad movie.  Gene Hackman makes a good Luthor, Reeve made a good Superman, and I kinda liked the character development of Clark/Superman.  It was a good film, up until the end.  Wipe the last 20 minutes from your memory, make Lois attractive, and give Luthor some descent henchmen and it would be a fucking awesome movie.

Seriously though, that bitch is ugly.

Be Thankful

Yeah, it's on of those "Thanksgiving posts".  Deal with it.

I've always been pretty thankful for what I've had in life, even if I couldn't fully appreciate or even truly know what I had.  This Thanksgiving is different, I've got a lot to be thankful for (as usual), but the scope of it is enormous.

I'm thankful for my employer and the friend who helped me get the job.  You've improved my life immeasurably, giving me not only an income but something to channel my energy into.  I also have a lot less stress in my life now that I know where my next meal is coming from (aside from my wife's generosity).

I'm thankful for my sister and niece who have always been there for me, even at their own expense.  I will never be able to repay them for their kindness, support and generosity.  Seriously though, I know the approximate dollar figure and I probably will never be able to pay it back.

I'm thankful for my parents who, despite their prejudices, attended my heathen wedding.  While we almost never see eye to eye, they've always been there to catch me when I fall and remind me that while my head is in the clouds (or up my ass, according to my dad) I should keep my feet firmly on the ground.

I'm thankful for my internet friends who helped me when they had no reason to, other than a shared situation.  Your insight and words helped me find happiness.

I'm thankful for my Missoula friends for being my friends and not dismissing me as just "Wendy's boyfriend".  I don't make friends easily and it's nice to have them.  Your continued tolerance of my stupidity and immaturity astounds me, and I thank you for that.

Most of all I'm thankful to my wife, Wendy.  You found me when I was at my lowest, heaviest, poorest, and most pathetic yet still found something to love.  You became my first and best friend in this new and foreign place, showed me that somebody could love me for who I am.  You gave me a home when I was homeless, food when I was hungry, and companionship when I was lonely.  You agreed to marry me despite the fact I had nothing to offer you but my love.  I owe you my life, in more ways than one.  Thank you, for everything.

This Thanksgiving I'm a very thankful man, and you should be too.  Take a good hard look at your life and you'll agree, we all have a lot to be thankful for.  :)

Trust, and a Lack There Of.

First, read this.  If you're thinking "wow, that's a great tool, I wish I had one to spy on my child/spouse" then slap yourself, hard.

GPS trackers, keyloggers, porn detectors, etc.  All of that shit exists because nobody fucking trusts anybody anymore.  Why?  Because nobody is honest anymore.  We live in a world where nobody trusts anybody, so nobody is honest with anybody, thus causing others to not trust them!  We tag our little children with GPS so we can track them in case they're kidnapped because we don't trust society at large, but when they grow up we just find better hiding spots for the GPS because we don't trust the kids enough to come home after school when they say they will.  We scan our spouse's computers for hidden IM and chat logs because they've been spending a lot of time online.  We search computers and sock drawers for porn because we're afraid either our children will find out about sex or that our spouses aren't interested in us anymore.  We stop trusting the very people we should trust the most, our families.  Why?  To protect them, of course.

BULL-FUCKING-SHIT.

We do it to protect ourselves from the realities of life.  We don't want to think that even for a minute our marriages aren't perfect, our children may do bad things or have bad thoughts, or that anything might exist outside our tiny, self-created, quasi-perfect worldview.  Guess what?  Your spouse looks at porn and finds other people attractive.  Your kid looks porn and will do bad things.  The people you know and should trust aren't perfect, they're human-fucking-beings.  And you?  You've destroyed what little trust they had in you by violating their privacy.

Do you want to have a happy, well-adjusted family?  Start with a little honesty and trust.  Tell your spouse how you honestly feel and tell them that you trust them to be honest with you.  Tell your kids that you know they might not always want to tell you things, but that you love them and trust them to be honest with you.  However, the most important part of this is to not get pissed off when they are honest with you.  Calm the fuck down and talk about it.  Nothing is perfect, not you, not your kids, not your spouse, not your marriage, not your family.  Everything has flaws and it's those flaws that make us human, that make us special and lovable.

Trust your family.  Be honest with your family.  If you do that, then they will too.  Always remember the golden rule: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

Tubby Bitch No More!

First, look at this dude:

That's Lou Fucking Ferrigno.  Some know him as IFBB Mr. America 1969 and Mr. Universe 1973, others know him as television's The Incredible Hulk, and my friend Wess knows him as God.  Regardless of how you are acquainted with Mr. Ferrigno, he was (and pretty much still is) a buff, sexy mother fucker.

Now look at this dude:

That's me.  Sure, he gets the occasional sexy chick, but they're almost always forced into the situation (and pity sex is never cool).  How I landed my wife is beyond me, and it sure wasn't with studly good looks.  That's because when we met I was a stout 382 pounds of lardass.  That's right folks, I was damn near the size of three healthy human beings.  Or one Hutt, giver or take a couple pounds.

Thankfully, a rigorous workout schedule consisting of lots and lots of nookie and a bit of newly gained personal pride managed to whittle away at that Hutt-like physique and drop me down to a low of 304 lbs (in 4 months, none-the-less!).  Unfortunately, since then I've gotten lazy and ballooned back up to 330 lbs as of today.  And while I no longer have to work hard to impress chicks (the titanium carbide ceramic ball-and-chain around my finger takes care of that) I still dream of one day approaching Ferrigno levels of sexy, muscular buff-ness.  And that journey begins now.

Today I go back to the gym and I'm going to hit the weights, hard.  My plan, for the moment, is to build muscle and strength and when I'm feeling good about my progress and have something worthy of uncovering, I will begin to chip away at the layers of blubber, exposing the marble Adonis beneath.  Or more likely, the slightly less fat guy who can actually lift a house cat without pulling something.  Either way, I refuse to be Jabba anymore.  I refuse to have creaky knees.  I refuse to stop sex because I'm too damn out of shape to finish.  I refuse to be another fat American.

And really, if I don't take a stand now I'm looking at a heart attack and type 2 diabetes before long.  And one thing is for damn sure, I absolutely fucking refuse to be that 35 year old fat fucker who needs the electric scooter at walmart.  Fuck that shit, it ends now.

Lots of Shit

I've been a bad blogger, but I've got legitimate excuses this time.  Kind of.  We went on a 48 hour honeymoon, I got a job, and overall shit has been busy the last few weeks.  Now it's all starting to slow down and form a regular schedule, which I like.  So on with the rambling.

First off, the job.  As some of you know, I went to school to study television broadcasting.  It was, in my opinion at the time, a poor man's film school.  However, I fell in love with television (and radio, to a lesser extent) and pined away at getting a job in television after my schooling ended.  A year and a half later and thanks to a friend, I'm working in television.  I am a Master Control Operator for a hub of local/regional stations.  It's a good job and I like it, and if you know me then you know how rarely I say that I like a job (in fact, this may be the first time).  I'm pretty excited about it and I'll talk your ear off about it if you let me.  That being said, let's move on.

Wendy and I now have a two income household (see above), so it's time to think about the future.  With a gross increase of 80% to our cash flow the possibility of getting a larger apartment, a new car, or other things has opened up and I intend on capitalizing on some of them in the next year or so.  Especially the "other things" category, in which progress has already begun.  Mostly I'm stoked about the stability this income provides, and that I finally feel like I'm pulling my weight in this relationship instead of continuing my favored position of Professional Freeloader.

So far marriage feels exactly as it did before.  Nothing is different aside from the lump of black alloy-based ceramics that encases my finger, trapping water and destroying my flesh.  And even that is getting better every day.  The reasoning behind this, as I discovered today, is because of the fundamental nature of Wendy and I's relationship.  We met as two lonely people looking for companionship and we became friends instantly.  Soon that friendship matured and we became honest-to-goodness best friends.  That, I believe is the secret to our relationship.  No matter what, we always have been and always will be friends on the most basic of levels.  For some strange reason, knowing that I made a life long best friend and that I get to spend the rest of eternity with my best friend means everything to me.  I love her more than anything, and I am so happy to be her husband, her lover, and her friend.

And I think I'm going to end this here, because none of what I wrote made any damn sense.  It's late, I'm tired, and I shouldn't blog just because I was inspired to by others.  However, it was a good catch up post and I'll try to write something a bit more focused tomorrow.