Last night was DaughterGeeding’s softball team’s first and only playoff game. Yup, they lost. But I’m proud of her for challenging herself, playing in a sport she knew nothing about and with none of her close friends. Since she’s at a charter school, the league is weird. For instance, and as I mentioned, she’s a sixth-grader playing against juniors and seniors in high school.
The game prior to her game got intense, with parents coming out of the stands trying to get up close to the umpire. The coach for those parents had to come out of the dugout and talk the crowd down. I started to record just in case something really got out of hand.
It appears one girl in the game last night tore her ACL. She said she heard and felt a loud pop. This was very telling. It was our coach who went to check on her and literally carry her to her dugout while her coach watched. It was surreal.
I learned our coach will sometimes speak Spanish to our Spanish-speaking players because he noticed it calms them down and they perform better. He said he first noticed it when Spanish-speaking parents would root for their children in Spanish and not in English.
Because DaughterGeeding and BoyGeeding had games at the same time, there was no way both parents could attend each. Again, with my ex not there, I had a great time interacting and getting to know the other parents. When she’s there, I feel I must guard and keep to myself, otherwise she might accuse me of harassment.
On Monday, Jake on The TICKET said he gifted his wife a wind chime for Mother’s Day. Longtime readers know I hate the wind chime with extreme prejudice. After letting it hang outside for one day, he went on a huge rant on how annoying, nerve-wracking, and inconsiderate they are.
Yesterday when I picked up DaughterGeeding from school, a random kid walked up to me and said, “Sir, I just wanted to say thank you for your service.” I had to level with him and tell him I never served, but my dad served enough for all of us and I’ll take what he said as way too honor my dad.
I’m not sure why, but the term “bucket list” annoys me. I think I used to like it until the movie by the same name came out. Well, on my list, I’ve always wanted to stay at a Ritz-Carlton. In college, I did a case study on them for both my undergrad and graduate degree and was heavily impressed. Yesterday, I realized I can potentially mark that item off the list because my employer will reimburse me up to $5,000 on a vacation as a reward for being with them for ten years. I looked up the D.C. location, but it seems not to be centrally located to all the places we want to visit.
I donated blood last week. Two benefits of doing so are you get tested and results for covid-antibodies and your cholesterol. For years, I fought high cholesterol numbers. Every time I’d get it tested, at least twice a year, I would let my wife know. I thought she would care, look at it as an opportunity to bond, and I wanted to share a health concern I’ve been battling. She would always comment, usually something generic, like asking if it was better than last time. But one day it hit me, despite me telling her every time I got my lab results for the past 15 years, she never knew what constituted as good or bad cholesterol. Looking back, I’m surprised, but not, that she never took the time to ask or clarify. The worst part is feeling placated. For instance, she used to talk to me about ARDs at the school where she taught. I had no idea what they were, but one time I asked and she explained that “ARD” is an acronym for Admission, Review and Dismissal, and it deals with student eligibility. I asked because I was interested and cared about what was going on in her life. Looking back, I now understand she never took the time to ask because she simply didn’t care. Welp, now I know what to look for in the next relationship.
In case you are wondering, my blood is o-positive.
Yesterday was Bono’s 62nd birthday. U2 fans mark the occasion by donating money for water wells to be dug in Africa. Yesterday the band announced he’s written a new memoir. I don’t think I’m going to read it, but if the audio book is anything like what’s below I’ll all for what. I really wish the whole thing was animated like this sample. I’d be all over that.
Some days you just want to kick back and crank up some Wilson Phillips to 11.
The man who has been mentoring me through my divorce, as he had a similar divorce decades ago, revealed to me he’s been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. Man, bum deal.
I think I was the only person in the U.S. not interested in that escaped convict and that law enforcement official he had a relationship with.
I think everyone likes that Jake from State Farm guy.
Things that are still around that surprise me – Amway, Barbara Eden and Feldon, Bob Barker, Angela Lansbury
It will be interesting to see who will win between Trump and DeSantis in the Republican primary.
I wish I was appointed ambassador of french fries. I’d start a holy war against tater tots. First, I’d send in the crinkle fries, followed by a battalion of curly fries, and finishing the mission with a regimen of waffle fries. I’d then start diplomacy talks with onion-rings. And later, baked potatoes. But I know my limits. No way am I taking on mashed potatoes.
Standup comedy is regularly listed as one of the toughest jobs in the world, featuring heavily in 90% of people’s top 10 fears. But a course helping some of the most vulnerable people in the country by teaching them to be comedians is proving so successful that it is being socially prescribed by NHS trusts and private practices across the country.“I’ve taught comedy for 10 years, and students often told me how much stronger, more resilient and happier they were after exploring their personal histories through standup comedy,” said Angie Belcher, founder of Comedy on Referral and comedian-in-residence at Bristol University.“That inspired me to prove that the models, exercises and games used in a standup comedy course can help people to recover from emotional problems such as mental illness, postnatal depression, PTSD and anxiety disorders,” she said.
I was not aware of how muscular Willie Mays was. He’s currently our oldest greatest baseball player.
The new pharmacist in town is an Anna Kendrick doppelganger. As a matter of fact, when I first saw her, I wondered if I was on one of those Candid-Camera/Punked shows. When asked how often does she get mistaken for the adorable actress, she said it happened that morning. While standing in line at a Starbucks, a young girl approached her, asking for a selfie and saying how much she likes her Cups song. If you want to know my pharmacy, here’s a hint: It’s the northernmost pharmacy in Coppell.
In high school, I had a friend claim he poked a needle through a condom packaged in his cousin’s wallet because he hated his cousin.I think his cousin was half the responsible party to one particular teenage-pregnancy that occurred. That story came to mind after reading this article – Germany: Woman sentenced for poking holes in partner’s condoms
Years ago, I was considering getting a vasectomy. At the time, the then wife wanted no more children. But one thing held me back. What if a certain fateful event happened that changed my mind? I heard there are often complications with reversals. For once, I’m glad I didn’t lay my balls out there.
the On Tuesday, BoyGeeding and DaughterGeeding both have games at the same time in two different cities. Their mother sent me a message asking how I would like to handle this. Remember, she told the judge that I’m controlling and manipulative, and has pending litigation against me to further restrict my access to our children. She won’t have a discussion with me, with a third party present, and won’t provide me answers or examples on how she thought I was controlling and manipulative. As much as I would like to propose win/win propositions, I can’t provide her my thoughts and ideas in order to protect myself, as well as my continued access to the children. I wish we could be more collaborative with things concerning our children.
If we were all living together as a family under one roof, I would have called my daughter and wife in the room to watch this segment together. I’d then ask my daughter if she could identify or relate with the nine-year-old in this story and have a heart-to-heart. Divorce prevents such things.
Man, I thought this was a good question and one I’d love to have sitting around a campfire with my closest friends. Brady is obvious, but my heart says no since he benefits from rule changes. Sentimentally I want to say Jordan. But I think the correct answer is Michael Phelps. Serena Williams and I think Carl Lewis should at least be part of the conversation.
The actor who provided the voice of the snowman in Frozen shared a unique coincident.
When you take your kid to the doctor and they unironically put you in this room pic.twitter.com/6EXFWmlbdG
Mother’s Day weekend is sure a lot different when your mother is deceased, you’re divorced, and lost faith in the mother of your children to adequately love and care for them. For instance, this is shoe my ex has our son wearing to school. These are embarrassingly dirty and worn out. I wish I knew what she was spending child support on. Sure, the end of the school year is around the corner, but the kid needs some new shoes now. You can literally stick your finger in that hole and touch his toe. I took his sister out to buy shoes last weekend, and when we were out we tried finding him a pair but didn’t have much luck. If I had him this weekend, I’d certainly take him out to get some new shoes.
The stupid divorce decree states I get the children every first, third, and rare fifth weekend of each month. Normally, I’d get them this weekend, but, since it’s Mother’s Day weekend, that trumps the schedule. So, I won’t get the kids for at least two weeks. There’s a part of me that wants to ask my ex to even things out. Since last year she only allowed me to have the kids for breakfast and didn’t intend for me to see the children at all for Father’s Day, why don’t I keep the kids this weekend and she can have the kids for an hour for breakfast. Some of you are probably thinking that it balances out because of Father’s Day weekend. Nope, because it falls during the summer and the possession schedule is different in the summer. So, all dads in Texas forced to accept the standard or expanded-standard possession schedule get screwed. Actually, it’s the kids who are getting screwed, as they deserve to have both parents in their lives equally.
I still get a lot of anxiety when the first several moments of my possession time with the children begin. It’s weird, it’s like I already miss them even though they are in front of me but I feel like they are going to be snatched away or I’m going to wake up from a dream only to find out we’ve never been reunited. My counselor is helping me with it. He’s spoken separately to two of his colleagues, and all three of them have determined I’m suffering from PTSD. They are working alongside my psychiatrist. Sure, I was depressed about my spouse’s emotional infidelity and neglect, and the divorce sucked, but it was the alienation of the children that caused a maelstrom of emotional hell.
As hurt as I am, I don’t want revenge or vengeance. There’s no such thing as fairness or justice after a divorce. I just want healing.
My favorite lamp in the house is a pharmacy floor lamp. Unfortunately, the halogen bulb burned out. I’m having the hardest time finding a replacement or an LED equivalent. There’s so much more to light bulb shopping than I expected. Of course there’s base size, shape, wattage, color (warm or white). brightness or lumens, and a lot of other unexpected stuff. I think I’m shopping for a halogen T10 with an E26 base.
I see a pain management doctor because of my back and neck. Earlier this week, I met with him. We talked about an upcoming procedure. To give him the complete picture, I told him about a treatment I’m going through because of my divorce. As soon as I said the word “divorce” I could tell he dropped the doctor title and then talked to me as an empathetic friend. There’s something about this unfortunate brotherhood of men who have been given divorce papers and have seen long-lasting damage it does to us and our children. I think we spent most of our visit talking about the wounds divorce leaves and its recovery and the life you can have post divorce, and the purgatory until you find love again.
I hope to provide you folks more upbeat posts soon.
Posted inPersonal|Comments Off on Bag of Randomness for Friday, May 6, 2022
