Purveyor of Fine Awkward Moments


Feelings Watch 2014, Day 155

If you would have asked me last Thursday how I am doing, I would have told you that I was fantastic. I felt the worst was behind me and I was moving forward. I was comfortable with where I was emotionally. I hadn’t cried in days…weeks even. Maybe a month. It was good.

Then last Friday happened, and forced all my feelings that I thought had gone away right up to my face to glare at me. Why was this happening? I had made progress. I was pretty sure I was through all the stages of grief and onto acceptance. I was looking forward to what was in the future.

Now for the past week, I have cried more than I have for the past two months. It was like dealing with the heartbreak all over again. I was once again in a million broken pieces trying frantically to pull myself together. And for what?

I hate feeling like someone’s fallback plan.

And that’s how I felt. I didn’t feel like I was worth coming back to because of love, but because I was some sort of safety net. That doesn’t make a person feel all that great.

I pull Oracle cards on a regular basis for direction and guidance. It’s kind of like tarot, but not the same deck or set up. One card that comes up time and time again is the one entitled “Cleanse & Detoxify”. I pull it any time I am neglecting myself in some way – not eating right, not getting enough sleep, overworking myself. This time, I believe it was referring to the toxic situation I was putting myself in. When it comes down to it, I have two very clear choices: continue to be miserable and wallow in the place I’ve fallen in, or refuse to stay down here and continue on the path that I had begun foraging. I’d be a fool to stay miserable. I’d whine about it being hard to pull out of it, but I was slapped with some truth talk today from a friend – “KEEP TELLING YOURSELF IT’S HARD AND IT WILL BE.” I pointed out that this advice could also be used for men suffering with ED, as it is almost impossible to have a normal conversation with me.

I can’t help but feel lost regardless. I feel like some progress slipped away from me and that I have to work back up to where I was. A few weeks ago, I was told to flip open a Book of Answers for some direction on what to do next. The page I opened to said ominously “Mishaps will occur.” At the time, I felt dread, but I was reassured that I just need to take the mishaps, learn from them, and move on instead of beating myself up over everything thing, which is good advice for anyone unless your mishaps involve some sort of crime or something. Or if you’re the type of person that just looks for something to blame other than yourself. That could be a bad mix. “Oh, sorry I slipped up and stole money out of your wallet. Mishaps occur, amiright??”

I have a trip coming up in a few days, and getting out of town always seems to be the perfect bit of detox that I need. I’m trying to stay focused on that an not allow my mind to go back to wallowing.


Hozier is my new favorite

If you are like me and have been oblivious to the ear candy that is Hozier until recently, you are in for a treat. At 24, this Irish singer/songwriter’s music seeps with hints of the blues that influence him. I’m always amazed to hear young musicians with so much talent sound years ahead of their time. Also, 24. Some people are half as accomplished at twice that age. Mind = blown. You know what I was doing at 24? I have no idea. Probably getting drunk a lot. That was pretty much the story of my early 20s – I was drunk.

“Take Me to Church” is the current song getting air play and with good reason too. It’s gorgeous, soulful and that voice is magic.


hozierCan I also point out that he is not bad to look at either? Not that this affects his music but it doesn’t hurt either!







One of my other favorites off his self-titled album is “Someone New”. Wonderfully upbeat.

I can’t get enough of the whole album.


Hunks and Hounds – A Calendar to benefit Louie’s Legacy Animal Rescue

If you’ve been paying any attention, you’ve realized that I volunteer with an animal rescue group. Or maybe I’m a crazy dog person. That could be partially accurate as well. The group I volunteer and foster with is Louie’s Legacy Animal Rescue, located in both Ohio and NYC and founded by a dear friend of mine. I’ve been fostering for two years now, and have volunteered with the organization since the first year running. I’ve learned more about the business of dogs in those handful of years than my entire run as a dog owner, and unfortunately, more about the absolute dreadful nature of what humans are capable of in these past few years. I’ve seen dogs rescued from dire situations and have complete transformations after spending time in a loving foster home. And I’ve learned that people will dump their pets for a variety of stupid reasons. (I get legitimate reasons for needing to re-home a pet, but the amount of pure stupid people who do zero research before adopting an animal and then are “forced” to give up the animal because of their own stupidity is mind-blowing.)

Enough about stupid people…this post is about awesome people doing awesome things. Celebrity photographer Mike Ruiz ( donated his time and his talent to produce a calendar to benefit Louie’s Legacy featuring adoptable dogs from the rescue paired up with male fitness models. And the male models are not wearing shirts.

hunks and hounds

Much to my boys’ dismay, I was one of the first pre-orders – gotta support the organization, after all. I prefer my men a little more geeky and maybe with a sword in hand, but I’m not going to refuse to look at this every month. 100% of the profits go directly to Louie’s Legacy, allowing more dogs and cats to be rescued. The rescue has taken a hit this year with the amount of medical emergencies in the animals pulled this year, so this project is here at the perfect time. To buy a calendar, visit (Hey, that’s a nice looking web page right there. I bet a really awesome web developer pulled that one together. #shamelessplug)

Gone Girl

Oh David Fincher, you magnificent bastard. Once again, you’ve created a wonderfully moody and atmospheric film for us to enjoy. And did I.

It was a spur of the moment decision to go to a movie and a tie between Annabelle and Gone Girl. After seeing the preview, a mystery thriller seemed more like what the night called for. I am a sucker for a a good murder mystery.

On the day of their fifth anniversary, Nick comes home to find his wife Amy vanished under suspicious circumstances. The story of her disappearance is interweaved with entries from her journal, giving an interesting perspective of the decay of the relationship. The “did he or didn’t he” scenario is one all too familiar in headlines, with the revelations throughout being almost predictable, especially if you have ever watched a decent amount of Investigation Discovery. The twists delighted me in a wicked sort of way, but there’s no way I can expound upon that without giving away major spoilers.  My only major complaint is with the audio. I don’t know if it was the theater we were in or the film itself, but the soundtrack (which was once again a collaboration between Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross and perfect in every other sense) often dominated over the dialogue in flashback scenes. I’m guessing this was more of a tech issues with the sound system since these are seasoned filmmakers involved.

Final grade: A-

Here we go again

I am so sick of feelings. Wait, let me start out by saying that 90% of the time I am completely okay. I’m feeling good, getting shit done and living my life the way it was intended to be lived. That other 10% is where it gets shifty and annoying. It’s the stupidest thing that sets me off too, so I am usually a mix of angry and upset when I’m having a moment. These are the moments where I turn to my therapist and say “I don’t get it”. Luckily, she knows a thing or two about feelings and divorce and assures me that no matter how much I want this, no matter that this is a much needed change, there is still an emotional tie. There is still a grieving process.
This grieving process is bullshit, but apparently I’m supposed to acknowledge my feelings and let them exist. That may be the hardest part of all of this – allowing my feelings to exist. It’s like letting that annoying kid who nobody likes have a turn with the ball because your mom lectured you about playing nice, but that doesn’t mean you’re not sitting there rolling your eyes and sighing and waiting for their turn to be over and silently cursing yourself for either being an obedient kid or having a stupid guilt complex. That’s what my feelings are like.
I’m also convinced that this week was completely knocked off track after an incident involving a friend and too many Olive Garden breadsticks that ended in a solemn vow to never, ever drive an hour while famished to an Olive Garden.

But the OG incident threw me off my running game, and I overcompensated with strength training and couldn’t bend my arms for two days. That was always fun when something got knocked over or onto the floor and my arms were essentially useless. I’d stare helplessly at the object and declare “Well, that is where it lives now!” As I mentioned lots of times, running and exercise keep me sane and help get out those boiling over emotions. I’m sure there is a scientific explanation for that helping, I just don’t feel like googling. I’d probably ended up on WebMD and it would tell me that I have cancer or Lyme disease. Damn WebMD is such a downer.

I swear, I’m going to stop bitching about feelings one of these days. Today is clearly not that day.

Uproar Music Festival

I was recently told by someone close to me that I need to make the effort to have more fun. This whole summer has been me keeping myself occupied. So when a friend of mine was all “Uproar?”, I was on board. There are a good number of bands playing this tour, which was easily well worth the price of a ticket. My one hesitation about going was that I needed to avoid someone who I knew would be there. Long story short, I went on one date with this guy. We got along great, had a lot in common, talked for hours…all that good stuff. At the end of the date, however, he told me “I love you” as if that is a normal thing you’d tell someone after date #1. And when I side-eyed him and stated the obvious response most people would have in this situation, he insisted that we had a deep connection. I was all







I have no time for that sort of clingyness now or….ever, really. So I was not looking forward to running into him and possibly explaining my disappearing act. Cause, awkward. But luckily, we did not see him. I mean, it’s like one person out of a thousand or so, giving me pretty good chances of avoidance.
Anyway, we saw most of Buckcherry but booked it near the end of their set to claim our spot for the main acts. The first one up was Pop Evil, who I was familiar with but hadn’t seen before. They rocked my non-existent socks off. Seriously. SO GOOD.
I prefer the original version of this song, but this video shows all the bearded glory of the bass player, which is lacking in the original version. Rawrrrrr.

“Silence and Scars” is easily becoming my favorite song off of Onyx, even if it makes me a bit melodramatic. But I need a little melodrama now and then to release a lot of pent up emotion.

I know I’ve been wrong; I don’t have all the answers

I’m stuck in this hell somewhere in between

What I want and what I need; I don’t have a good reason

Cause now that you’re gone only silence and scars remain

Also, I would like to point out that this video was taken on the wrong side of Matt Dirito. Too far. Not A+. Would reconsider buying again.

Next on the list was Skillet. Don’t worry, I have no interest in fawning over their bassist. So, Skillet puts on a damn fine show but it turns out they are a Christian rock band. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I find myself usually switched off as soon as I find out a band is a Christian one. I suddenly worry that maybe I’m being brainwashed and I don’t know it. Subliminal messages. However, since I have been a lot more spiritual than I’ve been in a decade, I decided to let myself enjoy the band without worrying I’d become a Jesus freak. There are worse things, after all. When they started with this song, my friend turned to me and said it was definitely a song for me.

Musical therapy.

The final band on this stop of the show was Godsmack, whom I had wanted to see for quite some time. Also, they’ve been around 20 years and I cannot wrap my head around that. Godsmack was awesome, of course. Fireballs and bongos.

My only regret over this concert is that I was unable to get a picture of Braveheart of the Mosh Pit. The mosh pit formed rather quickly during Godsmack and grew to an impressive size. It wasn’t so much people moshing that made the pit so large, it was the ridiculous perimeter other concert goers were giving the moshers to avoid being jumped on. But there was one guy, who was either completely smashed or had just ran out of fucks to give, who defied all common sense of the mosh pit. He walked right into the middle of the pit, oblivious to the mayhem all around him, and stood there drinking his beer. I was all “That crazy bastard is my personal hero.” If someone ran into him, he’d regain his footing and give them a quick glance over the shoulder. He did eventually succumb to the draw of jumping into other grown people for kicks and whipped his shirt right off and dove in. Bonus entertainment.

Ups and Downs

I am slowly getting to a place where I feel like my head isn’t spinning and my world isn’t crashing on me- on most days, anyway. That is overly dramatic but having the rug pulled out from under me felt overly dramatic. I have been taking my feelings out for runs. In running news, I have shaved a minute and a half off my time. Woo woo. Emotions are a powerful fuel.
When I’m not running, I stay busy. I have to keep my mind occupied to shut my thoughts up. I don’t know where the past few months have gone. Everything is one big blur. The ups and downs on this emotional rollercoaster are exhausting, but I still get hit with insomnia on most nights. I think the overall drain is making me even more emotional. I’ve had a few nights where I throw myself on my bed the second I walk through the door and cry for a good 15 minutes before collecting myself and carrying on. I wish I could understand why something that is ultimately a good thing still causes so much turmoil.
Honestly, if I could deal with the negative feelings that insist on popping into my head, I think I would be okay. But all that self-doubt, self-loathing and the like are such asshole feelings that they drown everything else out. It doesn’t matter how many times someone tries to convince me otherwise, I can’t shake the feeling of not having been “good enough”. And having that feeling angers me so much. Then I run some more. It’s an odd cycle, but I suppose it helps. It’s gotta be better than crawling into bed and refusing to get out. I sure as hell don’t have time for that sort of thing.
Baby steps. I know somewhere there is a light at the end of the tunnel.


I recently pulled my old journal out of hiding and decided it was time to help write through my feelings– which is not as hokey as it sounds, I swear. Even better, I went through older entries to reflect. It was cringe-worthy at time, but the main thing I noticed is that I was not happy for a long time. It’s possible I didn’t write about the happy moments, but I seemed to be just torn about things. I had stopped writing at a certain point in the past 8 years. My journal was a source of contention. If I’m upset, I’d much rather jot down all those feelings as they come out instead of unleashing them in a heated discussion and run the risk of saying something I’d regret. I’m not sure if that’s a healthy way of dealing with the onslaught of emotions but it helped me. The problem was the lack of boundaries. I don’t write down in my journal with the thoughts of it having an audience. Eventually I grew tired of the invasion of that confessional and I put it away. Writing in it again feels wonderful. While I enjoy blogging, there are messy feelings that I would much rather keep in private. I’m hoping not only to scribble away my unhappy feelings but to make note of the happy ones.