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The best job of my life [Nov. 28th, 2009|06:50 pm]
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I love being a dad. I love being a husband.

I started late at all this, and was worried that maybe I wouldn't be very good at it, or that I had blown it all up to be something better than it is, or over-romanticized it. The frustration, chaos, the unknown everything that comes with a child, with marriage, with changing your whole life to a partnership, all these things coming into my life when I'm just entering middle-age.
cuteness )
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Central Texas [Nov. 27th, 2009|04:28 pm]
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They kinda write their own rules, which may seem contrary to your version of a 'common sense' arrangement. This is where we had our family Thanksgiving. The area, I mean. We didn't dine at The Double Shot. That would be crazy.
Central Texas

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But what about us? [Nov. 25th, 2009|03:36 pm]
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It's getting easier here. We are moving around furniture, and talking about what we want to replace it with. Very few of the chairs are what I would pick out for style or comfort, and we are always talking about layout. We can't do anything structural to the house, so it's just cosmetic changes for now to make it more like home.

What has spurred some of these thoughts, is the possibility of us having a little party here in December. Yes, that kind of party. It'll be weird, doing that in this house. Like, really weird... maybe. I don't know - I feel like I've made huge leaps in recognizing this place as mine now, the house I live in. Maybe having a dirty party here will really solidify that - put our mark on the place. But it would help having a different couch, not just for memories, but because it's not a good couch. Hell, most of the house isn't laid out for a party.

Luckily, we are creative, and can manage something. I do believe it will be good for me, good for my life here, even if it is weird, it will be a good process to go through. Wife would like to do that here, for the same reasons, just easier for her.

On that note, we've been getting close to that girl from the Halloween Party, the one we wanted to meet before we even attended. We've had a couple dates, gotten to know her a little on a personal level, and find that there is enough in common that we might have a real friend in the works. Of course, this is all after we fucked the shit out of her last friday night. We are still predators. I'll give you details about her when I have pictures to go with it - that first time was a hot surprise, but we've discussed the camera with her, and she is very enthusiastic. Her name is Kimberly, and that won't help anyone figure out who she is for now.

...

I'm debating how to handle this journal regarding my new surroundings. If I don't tell anyone about it, then I can speak more freely, commenting on what I see around me, without compromising my ability to play. On the other hand, this journal has been a fantastic tool for recruiting new playmates. Tough call.

The local scene is friendly, but we haven't found our niche yet. We have only been to playparties for two of the 4 major groups in Houston, with plans to attend the other two in the near future - but we have a good idea what to expect from them (lots of leather, not much sex). And that's why we are going to a swinger club this weekend.

This will be a new one for me - I've only attended these clubs in the much more sex-friendly nation of Canada. But I've heard good things about one club that is a little more kink friendly, and been contacted by a fetlife couple who will be there Saturday as well. So we will at least have someone holding some seats for us.

We are doing this because in Phoenix, we found it was easier to get swingers to play with kink than it was for bdsm master/slave leather folk to let their pets off the leash for a good stranger-fucking. Could the same be true here? We'll find out. We might even bring our new friend along.

Yes, we need a play party. There is one slightly older couple who look like good prospects - very hot play with them, but I don't know the limits of their sex activity. They are into chastity - the expensive belts worn under clothes. Seeing girls in chastity gets us hot, so we want to play more with them.

Another couple prospects on the fringe, but they are a ways off from talking about them.

...



The non-kink parts of our life - that's getting much better. We have our budget under temporary control, and are working on the strategies to manage the additional expenses of the new year. The boy is happy and healthy, and we start our health insurance next month. As long as no new conditions have popped up to be excluded by the insurance company as pre-existing, then we are going to be great.

I need to do a real post about my son, and include some of the ridiculously cute pictures, but they don't mesh well with the talk of swingers and deviants.

Beautiful wife is settling into the job, and learning to navigate the twisted psychology of this company, and identifying the morons and landmines. I'm looking forward to next year and all that holds. I have a lot of support for starting school, but I'll need a job between January and September. We are open to positive and unexpected opportunities. We can survive on just her income, but not prosper. Plus, I've been laid-off too many times to allow a single income stream. Her company is weird, they have a backwards culture, it's a model Dilbert organization, which is not something she's had to deal with for very long before. My wife finds solutions to problems, this company embeds problems within procedures.

So much is happening, but I can't seem to find anything to say. Maybe it's comparison - our friends back home are throwing larger and more interesting (sometimes that means "drama filled") parties, there are new characters and plots within couples developing, and we don't have any of that here. Nor could we - I feel like the shock of the move is just starting to wear off, and we have barely scratched the surface of the new city. At least we know a cool place for coffee close to downtown, that's something.

...

Sorry I this is rambling. I'm trying to kickstart a cold creative process.

- T.
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The "Lou Diamond Phillips" [Nov. 22nd, 2009|11:21 am]
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There are breakups, and then there are catastrophic events. The kind where one party clearly gets the shaft, and often they are hapless victims: roadkill on the love highway. Certain events are so devastating, they take on the name of the first person you saw go through it. In our world, if you come home from work one day and find not only your love-partner gone, but all your stuff gone, too - everything: tv, computers, couch, booze, artwork, all of it - we say that you got Mitched. I feel better using the term now that the namesake is engaged and happy, but we never forget.

The Mitch is bad, but it's far from the worst. It's nothing like the Lou Diamond. Here's our good friend, he has a Fetlife profile. One the Activity Report, the thing that tells you what he's been doing with his profile, here's what it says:


s(anonymous) became friends with xxxxxxxxx. about 11 hours ago
s(anonymous) is no longer engaged. 2 days ago
s(anonymous) became friends with xxxxxx. 5 days ago
s(anonymous) became friends with xxxxxxxx. 10 days ago
s(anonymous) changed his relationship status to engaged. 12 days ago


So right there, you know his life sucks. But it gets so much worse. If you know the history of one of Lisa and my favorite actors, then you know what happened to our friend - but if you don't know, here's the short version: LDP was the hip actor on the rise with a couple of hit movies and a critically acclaimed role in Stand and Deliver. He marries a sexy young director named Julie Cypher, and she scores a sweet gig directing a music video for one of the biggest acts of the early 90's - Melissa Etheridge. In a very short time - matter of few weeks - his wife falls madly in love with the singer, and she dumps his ass for the world's most famous lesbian. Shortly after the divorce is final, Julie and Melissa do a cover story for gay magazine The Advocate, where they gloat about the broken marriage, and totally humiliate the man.

I remember this because I was in college working nights at the porn store, which carried The Advocate, and I liked her music. The article was really harsh and made it look like a couple of cruel women were taking some joy in his plight. I recognize that this could more be the journalist writing the article than the intent of the couple - they don't really have any control on how the interview was spun. But the effect was pretty devastating, and it put the man's career on the B track. He's only recently started to get some good roles, thanks to his broadway work.

And so the name stands for the kind of total devastation when your spouse or significant-other leaves you to be gay in an extremely public and humiliating way. It's a gender neutral term, see Dina Matos McGreevey, wife of former New Jersey Gov. James McGreevey, and I think most people can recognize that this is a harsh way to go down. Another aspect to the Lou Diamond, is it's unexpected nature - which is how we felt when we found out about our friend here.

The couple were well known and universally liked. I've referred to them here as Memento and Marathon, and they are favorite friends of ours. When we met them, they were more on the swing-y side than the kinky side, but we helped bring them into kinkier parties, and they were great participants. This is a gorgeous couple who seems so solid and right for each other, that no one even suspected anything was amiss - and nothing was. Well, nothing was wrong until they had dinner with a very prominent lesbian roller derby girl and her friends. This is normal, Lisa and I went to a few roller-dyke parties, always fun. But this time, the two girls really hit it off, more than just the usual swinger-sex thing. Within 4 days of meeting the new girl, Marathon tells him that she wants to have an emotional relationship with rollerdyke.

Naturally, Memento does not like this. It's been a rule that they can pretty much fuck anyone they want, but the relationship is between them. They are engaged, he has put everything into her, and this was their agreement since the beginning. Her response: Well, then I'm leaving to be with her. This is four days after meeting the rollerdyke the engagement is off, and another two days later: Everyone Knows. We are shocked, he's probably catatonic with despair. What the hell? We sent him a message of support, but there's not much more we can do.

I am aware that you don't know this guy, but it just sucks and I had to say something. Plus, you know, Lou Diamond. I need to get that expression out there for this kind of breakup.

More soon. Have a good sunday.

- T.
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see that on his face? [Nov. 17th, 2009|11:00 am]
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That's the remains of a dog treat. That's my boy.
see that on his face?

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It's been a while since I've held a dying animal. [Nov. 13th, 2009|12:34 am]
Just as I was coming out of the school I did the pony show for this afternoon - a dog running down the street darted out and was hit by a late 80's large square car. Car tried to stop, but just locked up the brakes and hit the dog still going 20mph or more. Dog's skull was loud against the all-steel front end of the car, then was dragged at least 29 feet before he came to a stop in the street. Car took off.

The dog is howling and can't get up. Couple of thugs with jail tattoos on their face and necks, riding bikes were on the other side of the street. Another, younger kid, bookish, came up from the other way. Four of us, as different as possible and still human, gathering around this suffering dog.

"Somebody's dog, man." He had a collar and tags, I didn't want to move his head to check them. He was still in the middle of the road, the guys with bikes were on either side of him to keep traffic away. I went down to the van, took off my jacket and drove over to the dog to keep cars away. The dog was grey, speckled, and blended right in with the concrete. I put the hazard lights on and asked if anyone knew who to call? You might think with all these years spent in so many cities, that I would have been in this situation before, but no. Dead animals, seen plenty. But watched one get hit and then lie there, blood on his nose, wagging his tail because he's glad to have the company.

The young, bookish boy spoke up. "I work at an animal hospital, but I don't have a car." I wondered why he waited this long to say something, but I looked around. Middle aged white man in business attire, and a couple of career criminals (I'm guessing based on the tattoos, but my brother is a career criminal, so I've seen this before), so I see why he was keeping back. I told him I'd drive, so he ran to take his bike home and get a sheet to use as a stretcher.

Kid knew what he was doing - how to pick up an injured animal, how to talk to him, warned me about a reaction bite. I put the dog in the back, the kid got in, and I thanked the thugs. Dogs are something we all have in common. The kid and I drove 3 miles to the vet clinic, me wincing with every bump in the road. The kid was talking to the dog. He told me that he was terrified of dogs when he was young, but started working in clinics to get over it. He called ahead, and they were waiting for us. The vet asked me if I got the license number of the car - ummm... no. Glad this wasn't a little kid in the street. I'd feel stupid for not getting a better description of the car.

The staff promised they'd take the kid home. His name is Kevin, he's about 15 years old, plans to work with dogs maybe as a trainer. I told him that would be a great job for him, world needs more dog trainers. Kevin told me that the dog would probably be put down, but they'd take away the pain, and give him comfort.

I drove out thinking about the impact, and that fleeting thought I had in the lobby. Glad that wasn't a kid. I'm pulling out into traffic, and I'm thinking about the physics of a 25 mph impact on a small body. I'm thinking about the sound of the steel impacting a compact skeleton, dragging, then after only a second to be lying on the ground in a totally different world. The dog's sounds are very easily translated into human language. I'm thinking how I need to teach my son to look both ways, keep him close when we are near streets

I cleaned out the dog smell when I came home. Held my teething, cranky boy, and put together a half-assed dinner. There is no point to this, no epiphany. Just a moment of experience in the new city. Thinking about dogs.

- T.
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Oh Banquo, it's you. I didn't see you sitting over there. [Nov. 10th, 2009|10:24 pm]
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So we went to a party on Saturday. Interesting. I want to tell you all about it, but to tell you about the second party, I should probably begin with the first party - and so we start the journey to finding our kinks again. This could be a sort of guide to navigating the waters of perv to locate the people who play as you play, and foster a safe environment to do provocative things.

As I think I mentioned, we found a few leads by accidentally stumbling across a store that sells clothing to dirty slutty whores, when we were looking for halloween-y things. My son is actually very comfortable in those surroundings, so we looked at whorey stripper boots while the lovely wife struck up the purple haired salesgirl with the cute ass. Minutes later, we had some basic information about the kink scene here, and a few leads to track down. Here's what we found out about Houston:


  • Fetlife is the online thing here; most players are on it regularly.

  • There are very few public events or groups.

  • There are many, many private groups that hold parties often, if you can get on their list.


OK, so we don't have much for proper Gateway groups, but there is one called EROS, kinda central to Houston. I attended the intro meeting and we went to their Halloween party two weeks ago. We met some people, did some things to generate interest/buzz, and met a couple interesting people who will lead to much fun in the future - including the party this past weekend. We are on a good trajectory, but still just getting started.

I will give you details of both parties, but first, let me give you the overall impression of the Houston Kink Scene from my limited interactions. I know that the first impression isn't the most accurate, but this is the face Houston presents, so my thoughts have some value if anything is to improve.

- Sucky Music in Houston has fully infiltrated the kink parties. Seriously, try and find a decent radio station in Houston, and you will fail. It's the worst music scene I've ever experienced. I don't know country music stations, but they probably suck, too. No good shows, no good live music, radio sucks, and I am very sorry to say, the party had the Worst dungeon music I've ever heard. I like Cheryl Crow, I really do. I respect En Vogue for their crossover successes. I wonder what happened to Alanna Miles after her one-hit "Black Velvet". THIS IS NOT KINKY WHIPPING MUSIC!!!1! The last party music was the soundtrack to yard work, or maybe fixing a car. It's what you listen to at work, if you work where you can have the radio on. DJ culture has missed this city, somehow, some way, it just glided right over their big hair and cowboy hats, and this town has no beat. It's fucking killing me.

- No Cameras Ever! Well, that's no fun. I know the reasons why people did that in the olden days, but a lot of people about my age, and most of the people younger do not care if someone else has a picture of their naked ass. Within kink, most people do not put these pictures on the interwebs without some censorship, because anyone who violates that isn't invited to more parties. But more to the point, a lot of people just don't care about a naked picture on the internet, censored or not, because really, who fucking cares? Most of us are unemployed. Yes, I know, politicians and moral clauses in employment contracts and kids old enough to find these pictures on milf.com. So have a photography room that you know to stay out of if you don't want your kids to see this picture. But they don't allow you to pull out a phone if it has a camera on it. No fun for T.

- Very, very friendly, warm and open people. With a short time here, we are already invited to parties we just can't attend, and everyone has been so glad to see us.

- There is a fairly major party every damn weekend. Seriously, every singly weekend of the year, there is a party of 40 or more, somewhere in the area, and it's advertised. Wow. I thought Ohio was full of kinky swingers, but this is a seriously dirty town. Now, by "dirty", I mean that general sort of dirty that includes anything south of the big Vanilla line. Doesn't mean that it's all our kink, but with this many parties, there will be some who do it like we do. But still - every weekend? We haven't done enough to know if it's the same small group of people who have no other hobbies, or if it's just a lot of dirty people, but we will find out.

- It's a safe place to be a perv, within reason. Finally, we learned that the swinger/kink community is tolerated by local law enforcement. There are active swinger clubs, and everyone knows the rules of mutual non-aggression, so no homes have been raided in living memory.


...

The EROS Halloween party was our first Hello to the community, and it was a decent venue: over 100 kinklings all in costume and drinking and playing nice. We said hello to the one or two people we met online first, and then found a girl we are very interested in - I'll tell you that we did make contact with a girl we are very interested in. Like, my poor little wife couldn't say "hello", we are so crushy on her. But no point in talking about it until it happens, so be patient and think pervy thoughts, and there may be some hot action here soon.

So it's a big group, encompassing all ages, all types, and of course we are attracted to some, and others we aren't. Perfectly normal, perfectly healthy. To them, we are someone new... but new how? New to the scene? New to the lifestyle? It's our first party, so we should show them a little of what we do. Did I mention it was Lisa's birthday?

We met a few young and attractive couples, but most were either standoffish, inexperienced, or in the third case - I don't know. They seemed to like us, but after the party, we never heard from them again. Lost interest, or lost number? We need to print little cards with our contact info.

The short version of our Halloween party scene is this: I found a group of people to administer birthday spankings, and through the sacrificial lamb of my wife's ass, we got a good idea of how a lot of those people play. There is no long version of the scene because I couldn't take any pictures so I don't remember which was the good rubber nun and the bad rubber nun.

We presented only one small aspect of our lives - my wife as group submissive, me as a light-hearted top doing a show. I don't know if this was the right thing to do, on both sides of the equation. On our side, it gives an impression, and an honest one in the sense that we are these things - but rarely. Far more often, we take a very different approach with our intensity, and certainly with my wife's submission. She doesn't just hand it out to strangers, and we gave the impression that she is more the Party Sub, type girl.

On the other side, we let her poor little ass be the crucible for us to determine if you are the kind of player we like. Some are - they were playful, they talked to her, they tickled and stroked and teased and slapped. Others, the cliche'd Dominatrix-type, they just wanted to hit her as hard as they could. Dull, uncaring, and with no regard to the next guy in line - the Domme just wants to finish the ass off, be so hardcore just to dare the sub to safeword out. While it's good to know who they are, it took away from her fun.

I'll admit, I should have maybe gone about this a different way. We didn't need to make a big splash on the first night. There was that one girl we wanted to impress, and we did, but we could have done that over time, too. We got a lot of contacts, but Lisa also had some birthday spanks from people who we could have skipped. I don't know - it's not what I wanted to do for her birthday, but this was our first night out since we moved here.

We left shortly after our scene and the recovery snuggle. We did make out with the girl we had our eyes on (great ass), and Lisa did suck my cock a little - but it was the only cock-sucking I saw (and I am always on the lookout for that), but sometimes, just when the party gets rolling, it's the best time to leave - because otherwise, you are there till dawn, and this was her brother's first night alone with the baby.

We have been talking to the girl since, and even had her over for morning coffee. As soon as something happens, I'll let you know.

...

Two weeks go by, and we are at another party. Up until now, you may have been wondering about the title of this post - or you are only now looking at it. It's a reference to Macbeth, and the wife and I were trying to remember the right name of the ghost - and we kept thinking it was Duncan, but no, it's Banquo. This isn't about murder or even the wearing of kilts, no. This is about a ghost at your victory dinner.

Anywho - what do you call it when you are having a grand old time, everything is peachy-keen, and suddenly you notice ghost from your past, something from years ago and many miles away, just staring at you? This isn't a friendly, Patrick Swayze or Alan Rickman doing the same thing but much smarter kind of ghost, but a sudden horror - fucking Banquo, staring at you. It doesn't have to be someone you literally or figuratively murdered, just the moment where you freeze, do or say something awkward, then hustle for any excuse to leave. If someone asks what happened, instead of saying, oh I was totally shocked when I saw BLANK from way back when I lived in BLANK and there was that whole poly-drama thing when we were all high on BLANK and I [did a bad bad thing]- you can truncate this, and just tell the person that Banquo showed up.

So Saturday night we drive 45 minutes north of the city to the little suburb of Spring, TX - which was once a tiny little cow-town all by itself, until the urban sprawl got close enough to build stupidly big houses for those who wanted bargain luxury, and were willing to pay for it with a hellish commute. Yes, we were in Spring, TX, at a very well appointed private residence which seems to serve little other purpose than to be a kinky swinger play-place. Smaller party, held by a man who was in line with our beliefs that cocks come OUT of the leather pants at some point in the night, they don't go back in and they don't want to.

And it almost happened, too. A few factors interfered with our happy fun leather sex evening: some early departures, a planned entertainment not showing up, our feeling that the people more attracted to us, were not attractive to us. This isn't universal - two couples were appealing, and of the two, one couple was very attractive to us, and we hope to play with them, soon. Then there was the Too Much Food, oh and how can I forget the Cheryl Crow / En Vogue mow-the-lawn mix on the sound system, which just wasn't doing it for us. But aside from those things, we saw forced orgasms, exposed pussies, glass dildo aerobics, and actual fucking (not just from ourselves). In fact, I was invited to sodomize the birthday girl, and she had a very nice looking anus from my spanking inspection. But that's when Banquo showed up.

I missed it - if you aren't Macbeth, then you miss it. I just got the message that it was time to go. We politely said our thanks and goodbye's and I gathered up the toy bag and tried to catch my wife, who was sprinting up the street in the slutty pump heels. That's a real talent. In the car she told me - and she's not going to tell you. I will say that it's nothing she did, just a really, really, really awkward moment that kind of sticks with you. She's not going to tell you, so please don't ask. It's killing her that I am saying this much - but she likes the "Banquo Phenomenon" name so much, she's agreed to let me go this far. Don't ask.

But you can see this, right? I mean, you are in a little planned community in the middle of Spring, Texas; at a suburban kinky swinger houseparty, and a ghost from 15 years ago and two time zones away walks in the door. That would spook anyone. She's had time to think about it, and she's going to find the person again and just have the conversation and clear the air. It was a damn long time ago, after all, and it will not interfere with our getting to know this great area and all these fun people.

We went home, put the baby to bed, and had morning coffee with our crush, who it turns out lives only a couple blocks away from us - so this could turn into a nice midweek thing? We're hoping, anyway. And, that was our weekend. Nothing really to report, but a lot of progress to setting up a good situation. Not every step was exactly right, but I think we are moving in the right direction to re-create what we had in Phoenix.

One thing I've noticed - the age/shyness curve. So far, the pro-sex kinklings we've found have all been older than us. Some are quite attractive and we look forward to playing with them, but I can't help but notice that of all the young couples, none seem to be sexual players. I assume it's for the same reason TNG/Youth groups self-generate - that these younglings are sexual and kinky, but don't want to bang around with people twice their age (which now includes me), and in many cases, 3 times. They are out there, and we want to attract a broader base with us in the middle - and it's all about attracting them to us.

On that note, I've had a couple people on fetlife contact me about the parties we have, and how we made all that happen. Most of it has been online networking and then doing the right things near the right people, but here is a short and evolving list of rules and practices that make the hot sex come to us:

- No online drama, ever. Drama happens, but you never acknowledge or post about it on you fetlivespacecollarbook. Ever.

- Post pictures of what you really do, and make every picture count. Don't flood, nothing repetitive - make each one a jewel.

- Good writing on what you like and how you play. Write how you speak, and honestly assess your own kinks and needs. No one is the Dom for All Seasons.

- Sometimes, you have to play with someone you aren't crazy about, in order to get to the next level. Most groupie-whores don't really enjoy blowing the security guard, but it's worth it to get backstage. Be a sport about it, have fun, and don't talk bad about anyone you play with.

I need to say that again. Don't talk bad about anyone you play with. I've rarely done this, but sometimes I just want to. I shouldn't, and it's hard to reign that in, but I believe you will do a lot better in your community if you simply keep your mouth shut. If someone is suddenly no longer invited to your party and you don't play with them anymore, then people will figure it out. Besides, you are lucky you get to do this, play this way, with anyone. Thank them all in your own way, but be gracious. It's just polite.

- Tell a story. Our experience translates to a narrative - what is yours? People will be attracted to your story, so make it attractive without embellishment. If it seems to be missing something, go do that thing. But make your primary advertisement (fetlife, collarme, myspace, whatever) tell a story about who you are.

- Make the people around you better. One thing that made our parties in Phoenix so good, was that we honestly wanted to improve everyone's experience. Yes, we push the limits of pain and perversion, but we also pushed people to know themselves, care for themselves, and to be good players. We encouraged friendships outside the playspace, and made good connections, people we miss very much.

I feel these things made us a success in creating what we wanted. We are working on that again here, and it's going together a lot faster than it did the first time. I don't know when the next party is that we are attending, but if we want to - there's a party every saturday night.

- T.
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More updates on life in Houston. [Nov. 4th, 2009|12:28 am]
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I kinda have a job.

It's barely a job, in the sense that I am contracted and it doesn't pay much. I go to schools and school districts to talk about student debt forgiveness for teachers who work in low-income schools, and for every little song-and-dance I do, I get paid a flat $100. Most days, I spend more time driving to the school than I spend doing the presentation. They also pay me for the mileage I put on the car. All totalled up, it's around $800 or $900 a month - but I only work 2 days a week, for a couple hours at the most.

It's the perfect job for a student, actually.

So here's where I am on that: Of the three schools in Houston, I can get into two of them with no problem. Of the two I am sure of, one is better and much more expensive than the other. Ultimately, if I am at either of these two schools lower schools, it will only make a difference here in Texas. Any other state and it won't matter - but the difference is $9000 per year for my debt load.

What are the odds of staying in Texas for the duration of my career? I put them at max 30% odds I stay. If I save money and get the same degree, it opens up opportunities for further education that I wouldn't take if I spent nearly $30K more on a Law degree. For example, if I really love the law, a Master of Laws degree would be possible if I kept the student debt lower.

I just need to do a little research on the two law schools and see if there is a decision-making factor I don't know about yet. I will be applying to all three - maybe I'll get lucky with UofH? Also, the other two schools don't have a January start session, so if I get accepted to them, I can still re-take the test and try for UofH again before next fall.

So, to encapsulate the plan:

1. apply at all three schools

2. research to determine best option of those that say yes

3. if UofH is not in that list, retake test to give it another shot

This brings us to the time between now and the start of school. Good chance it's going to be next fall, so I have nearly a year of prep time (unless I can convince them to start me in January - I'll do my best to make that happen, but it's largely out of my hands if they allow it).

If I continue doing this job, then I am Mr. Mom (truly great movie). I will have to make babysitter arrangements for the boy in any case, but if I do this job, I will be paying maybe $20 ($10 per hour for someone in the neighborhood) out of my pay, leaving $80 for the work I do. That's still a good take.

If I go for a full time job, we'll need full time child care, and that adds up fast. $900 per month right off the top of whatever I'm paid. A $4oK job only pays about $770 per week before taxes, $650 after, and maybe $600 after benefits... So on balance, I would make only a couple hundred each week over being a most-of-the-time dad and doing this. Now, if I got a job paying $65K, like my last job - that makes financial sense, but then what about school? No, then I'm on that same treadmill as before.

We will have to come up with a child care plan for school - and if I am a full time student, then I don't mind doing this work just to pay for care. It wouldn't cut into the rest of the family budget. What I need is some High $ contract work, limited hours, which would pay for the boy and still add to the total income.

OK, so I start looking for a job in a very selective manner. I've got this for now, and if something better comes along, I take it - all the while looking at the horizon of the Start Date for Classes.

Back to the Plan:

4. Look for the magical job while still doing this job, try other avenues for money to help with this mission.

5. Be ready for school.

...

The test shook me up. It's not that I did badly, it's that I thought I did well. That really screws with my head, the idea that I have no idea when I'm getting my ass kicked. But despite this, I still think my skills and natural talents lie in the field of Law. The only thing I have going for me is that I speak will, I argue well, I research a lot and like to write. It's mostly the talking, if you ask anyone who knows me they will agree. I either stay in Car Sales, or I go into Law.

I believe I can do well in school. I've read the books that try to convince you not to be a law student, and read the blog trying to convince me not to be a law student, and two things pop out: A) nothing I've read has me worried about school at all; and B) nothing I've read about "too many lawyers, no jobs" convinces me that it is any worse than the last twelve years of my career, where no job has lasted more than 3 years.

I keep thinking about my friend who works for the University of Phoenix. She tells me there is a big legal department, with a lot of little monkeys with law degrees, all going home at 6pm. I bet a lot of colleges have their own legal department.

OK, the test has taught me that I am not as smart as I thought I was, but I still retain some advantages. I am a lot more convincing in person than most of the people who are smarter than me. If I end up at trial, dealing with juries or judges - I've seen these people, at the local level, they aren't going to be swayed by the smartest person in the room. They are going to go with the guy who sold cars, I'm sorry to say. I can still be a very good lawyer, even with a middling test score.

...

And, well, Dammit. Going back to the top part of this post, the bit about the job - my invoicing was screwed up, and so I won't get paid until middle of November. Good news is that it will be for the full month of October plus mileage, but the bad side is that for the first of the month (basically, today), I am not contributing. And my not helping has resulted in bad things.

We wanted the kids to come out for Thanksgiving, and we discovered the most practical way to do this was have them travel by bus with their Uncle Ryan. The three of them on the bus is MUCH cheaper than only two by plane - and I mean just the tickets; unaccompanied minors have a sur-charge of $50 per flight, so it's another C note because they are kids. The bus would be fun, they can run around, it's all Ryan's problem anyway, and we can afford it.

Until Ryan couldn't take the time off work, the plane ticket prices have gone way up in the last week, and it's the Travel Hell weekend anyway. So right now, it looks like we won't have Lisa's older kids here with us. And that sucks so much, words fail. It's not uncle Ryan's fault - the guy really needs this job, and if he loses it, he's as fucked as we are. Employers are taking advantage of high unemployment by exploiting workers for more time and less pay, because we all know there are tens or hundreds of unemployed ready to take that spot.

Tomorrow, I'll be donating plasma again. We can't still be falling short - this has to end. We're adults here, we need to stabilize now. I'm really upset about Thanksgiving. We both miss the kids so much.

- T.
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Ladies, this is the best workout possible. [Nov. 1st, 2009|11:33 pm]
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It's worksafe... but I can't believe it's not a fantastic joke.

https://www.shakeweight.com/ver4/index.asp

I'd like to see this in a High School Phys Ed class. Life skills, and all.
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Halloween, 2009 [Nov. 1st, 2009|09:47 pm]
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We're new in this neighborhood, and if you don't know my wife - this night is a really big deal for her. So our house has the least amount of decorations of any home she will live in at any point in the future. We did our best with what we had, and I think it was decent.



What you barely see there is our front yard. To the right is the front window, with her menagerie of fright-show miniatures, the black cat ferris wheel, Scarey-go-round, waxworks, and the monster's ball - all turning and lit up, very beautiful. I think most kids were in such a hurry to get the candy and move on, they missed it. To the left, we had the chest and skeleton, and behind there is our haunted pirate ship. It's a dark silhouette, so you can't see the ship at all, just the sails - barely. They were backlit red, so the sales and skeleton looked like this:




The front porch had the screaming skull, lights, and the dry ice in the crock pot. My brother in law was answering the door in his construction outfit, which made him look like the janitor at the end of "Unbreakable". The fact that his face is blacked out from an oddity of the light is even better. The screaming skull actually sent some little ones running back to their parents. Loved it.




The boy was a dinosaur. A cranky dinosaur.



So much going on that afternoon, he never got a decent nap, poor little thing. But he calmed down and we went to the neighbors who know us. After the first house, he got the ritual and was walking up and knocking on the door. Soon, we were up the street meeting new people, including Judy, a nice MILFy lady who's husband was out of town so she was hosting a little party for her hot 15 year old daughter and a few of her hot jailbait friends. The little dinosaur saw them in the house, and he just walked right on in to introduce himself. The ripe hotties all fawned over him and gave him candy, so when we told him it was time to leave, he appropriately told us we were crazy.

It was a successful night, and we did some things to get to know our neighbors - like making popcorn/candy bags for the kids, and putting our names and phone number on the bags - just to let people know that it's ok to have home made treats. I'm sure at some point in human history there really was a razor blade in an apple - but really, out of the millions of kids who do this, have you ever known someone who was a victim of a needle in a candy bar?

Here's how bad it is: we were driving back from the grocery store with our dry-ice, and we went past one of the Christian churches, and the parking lot was abuzz with activity. We went slow, and I saw what was happening - kids were in costume, and were trick-or-treating from car to car. See, the parents all park their cars in the lot, then go to the back and open the truck, and the kids just walk around the parking lot, getting candy from the different trunks of cars, each one 8 feet from the next. At 5 pm while the sun is still up. Not the preschool toddlers, no. Kids. Like, 4th grade kids who should be marauding the night in their devil and ninja costumes, jetting across yards and over fences with a flutter of a black cape and the flash of a glow-stick. Be back by 10 pm, don't break any windows. Meet up with your friends and rove the night, looking for the best loot and a house that might actually scare you.

Now, this was still going on in my neighborhood - but we were light about 100 kids or so. The kids at the church we passed and the dozen others in the vicinity that have the parents so paranoid about their neighbors that they make their kids sleepwalk through this pathetic facsimilie of the REAL Halloween - the night where the streets are ruled by kids under 12. Light sabers and laser pointer lights, and staying up late, and amongst the "fun-sized" hershey treats, a couple of popcorn balls or rice crispies squares. Something real.

Because it's fucking safe. It's safe out there, it's probably safer than it's ever been. If your kid is going to be abducted, 99 times out of 100, it's someone you know and trust, and nothing you can do will stop it. Stranger abductions are one out of tens of thousands. Elizabeth Smart is an anomaly - you will win the lottery twice before that happens to you.

The kids who came by were having fun, but here's what's just twisted about it. A lot of the groups of kids were driven into our neighborhood from the lower-income apartments a few blocks away. You know. The brown people, the ones whose parents don't speak ingles so well. They were dressed up in cute costumes, cowboys, fairies, lady-bugs, darth vader. They came to our neighborhoods to experience this great night for kids, a night just for them. The kids who actually LIVE on these very streets are too afraid to do this, they have the side show pageant version in the church parking lot... and why? Because the parents are afraid - of the neighbors. The people who live here, the people handing out the candy.

So to spite them, and to make our statement, we handed out bags of popcorn and candy shaped like hands, with our names and address on each bag. We also handed out little cards asking for a babysitter for the dinosaur. We wanted any paranoid parent to know who popped the popcorn, because it's ok to do this. We should be afraid of ghosts and chainsaws on Halloween. Screaming skulls that fall from the ceiling when you approach the door. Fog. Not your neighbors.


...

Rant over.

So I have a little dry ice left. Makes the cocktails just a little more fun. God, that silly effect never, ever, ever gets old.



On halloween I finally watched Cabin Fever. Very awesome, and if you don't know how awesome, just follow it up with something that just plain sucks, like "Hatchet", which is a stinky turd. The only reason to see it, is because the girl who played Harmony on Buffy the Vampire Slayer shows her tits. If you are a deeper perv, she is the girl scout in the original Addams Family movie. And once she flashes for the third time on the boat, turn that fucker off, the best part is now behind you.

We had a good night, we saw a couple good costumes, but nothing like Hellboy last year in Phoenix. Total dedication - the kid shaved off the top of his head to get the full Hellboy effect - the horns were little dixie cups painted brown, glued onto his skull. Yes, decent, but nothing that creative. Still, good crowd, and fun seeing the neighbors on that night. Just concerned about where the mood is around here.

There were hot parties that night, but we had more fun at home, taking the boy out, and answering the door. We had a good party last week, and there is another party this coming week, so we took this night for the community, and to introduce ourselves. I'll tell you about the last party this week, because I am still 2 parties behind... But neither of them are as detailed or picture-heavy as that last one. They will go fast.

And finally, we let the boy play with some light-sticks. Made bathtime fun. I'll leave you with a glow-y picture of his fat little bear-paws.

Happy Halloween.

- T.

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I am so confused. [Oct. 22nd, 2009|01:33 am]
I got my test score over the weekend. I've had a couple days to think about it, and I am left with the same conclusion I came up with minutes after reading the email.

I totally blew this test. In a manner unlike any other testing experience of my life, I blew this one. I am too embarrassed to actually tell you the score, only that it is a Very Slight improvement over my diagnostic test I took in July.

The score, as a percentage ranking among all test takers, is by far the lowest ranking of any standardized test of my life. I'm not being modest, I'm not that Straight A guy who thinks getting a "B" is a failure - this is a real disappointment. The odds of my even being accepted by a law school have now dropped to "Slim". This is really bad.

I have never scored this low, and I am still a little shell-shocked. I want to believe there was some kind of mistake, that I was confused for that one guy who has taken the test 4 times and still can't pass. Not me. Not after the studying and the good night's sleep and the eating right and all that? Really? This has many levels of dire consequence. In no particular order:


  • I am not nearly as smart as I once was. Sure, I was bright in my youth, before the explosions and acid trips and 12 years in monotonous, brain-atrophy jobs. It's not just that I am below where I thought I was - I am way below where I used to be. Sure, I will never be in the physical shape I was at 19, but I didn't think the stupid would show up like this before 40.


  • Law School Acceptance is not a guarantee. In all my consideration for this new path, being rejected just wasn't where I thought I'd be... No, wait. I take that back. Now it is just a matter of how far down the ladder I slide. University of Houston won't touch me, but South Texas will probably accept me. Then there is Texas Southern... At least that one is cheap.


  • Fuck - I had NO idea that I bombed it! I mean, I felt good about my performance, I really did! How could I be so delusional? I mean, one should usually have some idea if they are flaming out, right? Here I was, thinking I rocked that one. I think this is the most disturbing thing of all - my self delusion. I can still get into a third-tier law school, and I now know that the brains are nothing special, so those aren't total losses. But this one? The very idea that I could be so deep in my own fantasy realm that I have no earthly clue that I suck at this; that is terrifying me to the point where I don't want to leave my house.



...

Shit. OK, I had to get all that out. Sorry. It's still in my head, all these thoughts, but I talked to my old friend in England yesterday. He was calling to see if I had seen the F1 race last weekend (Brazil), but my situation kinda dominated the conversation. That, and I haven't seen a race since Italy, and I only caught a little of Spa. He told me to watch the season, that the whole "Triumph over Adversity" theme, thingy I'm wrestling with is playing out in a beautiful and poetic way in the world of deadly racing. He also told me about when he blew his GRE the first time around - and this was after a Forensics National Championship! He felt invincible, top of the world, and then he trashed his graduate entrance exam, and had to re-take it to get into San Diego's grad program. San Diego is where we became good friends, and I never knew that. I don't think he told many people.

Or he was lying in order to break through some of my walls. Either way, it worked.

So I need to decide: Go to South Texas, know that it's a low ranking law school, but be one of the smarter monkeys in attendance? Or do I keep taking this test, pay through the nose to attend the Kaplan classes, get tutors, and take it over and over until I get in to U of H? Father's point, and it's a good one, is that it only matters in Houston. If I move back to Arizona or any other state, nobody will know the school's reputation, nor care.

I am still considering factors, trying to find the best path. What is difficult here, is knowing if I'm on the right path. Shouldn't I be doing better if this is what I'm meant to be doing? I thought the reason for my consistent failure at career stability was the core idea that I have been doing the wrong thing all these years. If that is true, it kinda implies that the right path will be somewhat *less* difficult? Or am I totally wrong on this?

I'm not very experienced about doing the thing I'm supposed to be doing. Most of the time, I really don't know what I'm meant to do. I think destiny has somehow, totally eluded me, and as far as a career - I remain adrift. Other parts of my life make more sense, but my career is misty, hazy. I need to think more on this, find some clarity, somewhere.

I owe some people some phone calls. I need to make this week count towards something. I need a plan. My wife needs to see a plan. My compass is spinning and I don't know why.

- T.
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First of all - I'm sorry. [Oct. 18th, 2009|09:59 pm]
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I didn't mean to disappear - I've really been on another planet the last three weeks. I knew I had a mostly-written post on one of these computers, and I found one and in my tired state, I re-wrote the last post and posted it again. A friend was kind enough to point out that it was a big deja-vu moment for her, without specifically calling me senile.

I'll have to explain later what's going on in my head this weekend... just can't do it now. I'm in a daze, all the time - this weekend is worse. But writing has always pulled me through it, helped me focus my thoughts. I have to be more disciplined about it, and it keeps me in touch with all of you, and y'all keep me grounded.

So I have this big nostalgic post about the first week in this house, and it's collecting dust while I procrastinate writing it. It's not exciting, but it's good for my personal history. I'll finish it tonight, but I have a quickie for you about Saturday.

...

I'm here in Houston, just me and the little boy. We're having a Boy's Weekend, so neither of us are wearing more than underwear/diapers. He likes F1 racing. Lisa is back in Phoenix till Tuesday to get some corporate training, and see the kids and family and friends on the company credit card. Nice. I find it funny that we had to go to Texas to get a job for a company headquartered in Phoenix.

So our dirty minded friends all find out she will be back home for a Saturday Night, and they throw a party. I've only heard the preliminary reports, but it was a very good party with lots of dirty action with hot, pervy people who all behave well and create an environment where kinky sex abounds. My wife did nasty things with a couple deeply into Rubber; there was a strap-on dick involved.

I had a kinky weekend, too.

See, what my wife was doing yesterday was to enjoy the fruits of a very long laborious effort from both of us; the reaping of what we have sown. We had to start off with the weekly meeting of the outreach-type kink group, the kind of group that by it's public necessity,must come as close as possible to being all things to all people - and above all, be a group following the letter of the law and the overriding rule of safety. Of course, such a group isn't for everyone, and we kinda out-grew it a long time ago - but it's where you have to start.

From there, we went to group parties and showed off our bits and skills until we were invited to a "special party" by the Party Moses, which led to the Secret Horns 'n Halos NYE party, which led to Tactfilter & I forming our own, and that is the environment where my wife had a good time. It took 2 years to get to that point, and it was hard work, serious networking, lots of smiling and making friends, and to put it bluntly, taking one for the team. I took mine, she took hers, and it got us through the door to the next level. I'm glad we still have such a good kinky family in Phoenix, and the work we put in to that community will bear fruit for years to come - but that's a long way from our new home.

My kinky weekend consisted of taking that first step. Again. I attended the orientation meeting for a group called EROS, introduced myself, and sat back to observe the group. They are friendly, they are open, and having done this in two prior cities, very familiar. These groups have certain archetypal characters who attend and run them - which makes sense, as it takes a certain type to want to take this on. Community outreach and legal policing isn't for everyone, but it is for these people. And without them, there wouldn't be a starting point at all.

But the feeling of going to my first meeting is the same. They are friendly - but just enough. They are suspicious of the new guy, especially the guy showing up alone. Not enough single girls showing up, and another single guy to take up space. The organizers are open and happy to see a new face, but everyone else is wondering if we'll show up to the party, what will we be like? Will we be trouble? Will we bossy or buzzkills? Of course they are on the lookout for drama.

I don't know what the long term would be for this group, don't know how much they are on our wavelength. But they are holding a big party this coming Saturday for Halloween, much larger than their usual party - which means that we will have access to the next doorway, the next level. We've done this a few times, so we should be faster now. I can see this taking 6 months if we put a lot of effort into it - that's just the time to get a decent house party. Could be longer.

...

Another interesting point: there used to be an SM Ball here in Houston. It was a major event with people coming in from Dallas and Louisiana. It's gone now, probably due to the disappearance of just one person, that lynch-pin guy who makes it all happen. The discussion topic for the EROS group, was the reality of the kink life vs. the idea you had before you started, your expectations going in.

Some of the people who have done this in Houston for more than ten years talked about the changes in the scene, and a few mentioned the lack of major dress-up events - things you planned for months, the one really big event that made you want to lose a few pounds just to fit into the kinkiest outfit. They miss this, and they want it back.

Hmmm... My best friend and the godfather of my son is exactly that guy in Phoenix - they lynch-pin man who makes it happen. Do I want to take this on? Don't know yet.

Another thing: A lot of the subby girls in the group... well, three of them at least, mentioned that one thing they expected when they went into this was "more sex". And with what they said about their fantasies, they didn't mean "more sex with this one guy" - they were talking about gang fuck whore action. Assuming they all based their fantasy on "Story of O", don't forget that she gets fucked by 4 or 5 guys in the first couple chapters, including the limo driver. Obviously, the dominant paradigm for this level of the leather is, like in so many other regions, the "One Penis Policy".

We know that we can find more people like us - it's obvious that some in this group, this first group I've encountered, they want the kind of play we do. I think we'll have a good party this Saturday (if I can get a costume together).

...

I'm glad she had a good time - sorry I missed it, but it's good that she enjoyed herself. I would have liked to have played, but what I did was more important. Phoenix will alway be there for us, but Houston hasn't even begun. I need to plant the seeds now, or we'll never get back on track. It's not that fun right now, but I know where this activity leads.

And that, my friends, is serious fun!

- T.
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We enter Daylight. [Oct. 3rd, 2009|08:07 pm]
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Thursday October 1st was Lisa's first day at her new job. The job that fully pulls our bacon out of the fire, the job that could make all this - the big plan, the big idea, that dream - actually happen. The pay is good, in fact, it's just a little below our ideal max. The job seems to be a good one, well suited to her skills and personality, the team (and this is a first day assessment) looks like a good bunch, the benefits are good and pricce within the market average, but the commute is a clear winner here. We biked it in about 25 minutes, a little over 5 minutes driving in light traffic. She only makes one right and two left turns, not including the last right into the parking lot.

Yes, money; god, yes, money, and yes yes to the benefits - but in the long term, in years, it's the commute that wears you down. This is a good job. Her first paycheck is on the 16th, and we have just enough to make it to that hallowed day - in fact, if we keep doing rice & beans in the crock pot, I think we can go see "Whip It" this weekend.

In short, she did her part of this. I have to wait another week to find out if I did mine. I'm ok, but my mind drifts between the "Congratulations, son - it's a 170" scenario where I could legitimately apply to Yale just to see if they'd let me in, to the lowly 10 point improvement over the practice test, and it's high-priced, second hand night school for ambulance chasers. Now that's I've slept on it for a week, I could go either way on that. Can't worry about it, the die is cast.

So let me start over, and tell you about where we are.
Read more... )
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brain injury reduction project [Sep. 27th, 2009|01:53 pm]
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Grass being far more forgiving than anything in the house - all sharp corners and hard floors. Maybe he'll do better on his big test, someday?
brain injury reduction project

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It's like a dream... [Sep. 27th, 2009|11:12 am]
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Good Morning, Angels.

I believe taking the LSAT under my conditions would count as a traumatic brain injury. Honestly, if I took a CAT scan an hour after the test, it would have been indistinguishable from a victim of a major car collision. I couldn't answer any questions for the rest of the day - not even what I wanted for lunch. I had a dull headache for hours, and I felt totally exhausted yet I couldn't fall asleep till after 1am. I was up at 6:30, worked my brain harder than I ever have before, couldn't manage a nap due to the monkey, and when it was bed time, I couldn't shut it off. We didn't have any booze to knock me out, either.

So, the test. Yeah. Truth is: I don't know. I feel oddly confident about it, but that can't be good. I thought I did well on the practice test back in July, and I got a 144 with a lot of dumb mistakes, and an equal number of errors where I didn't have a clue what I was doing. The difference here - the only measurable one - is that I finished the Logic Games section with time to spare. So there were no Unanswered, and I had time to revisit a couple where I wasn't positive. I felt like more of the questions were Sequencial puzzles, rather than the more difficult Grouping puzzle (only one of those). It might have been an easier test, which means the curve won't be as generous.

There was a guy near me, I heard him mutter, "Let's see how I do this time" and I know that a lot of younger people take the test several times, looking for the best score - but this is just a one-time shot for me. I have one chance to make the score and get into a school for January, if I have to re-take the test, it would be a start date of next year. If I wait till next year, I'll lose my chance. Someone will offer me a decent pay and an acceptable job and we will become dependent on the money, and it's over - back to the same old song & dance.

I don't know if I could have done better. Probably, if I had not moved a month before the test, if I had joined a study group, if I took the courses, etc. But I feel that my brain was doing all it could under the circumstances - that was my redline. If I didn't do well enough to get in, there isn't much point in pursuing this. If I get in, it's a new life. I haven't had a pivotal test (literal or figurative) like that, ever. Not with this much on the line.

The last major test I took was the SAT when I was 18, and I took the test the day after a 5 day vacation / sailboat race in Mexico. There was zero studying, no prep, I didn't care; the Army already owned me by that time. That was it, half a lifetime ago. Unlikely that I will take a test like that ever again (but if I do, remind me to take a lot of Pepto Bismol before I go in - my stomach was tumbling for 3 hours).

And now I am done. Unlike the practice test, where the results are available in 30 minutes, I have to wait something like two weeks. Great, two weeks. Well, gotta find a job now! No more test, no studying, no more hurdles. Also, no excuse for not updating this and all y'all. I have a lot of pictures of the move, the baby, some parties, my retarded brother-in-law and his superhero alter ego - Roman Pajama Avenger. Also, remind me to show you how we killed the grass in the back yard just a week after moving in.

Today we are going to drive all the fuck over this city, looking for a small toddler jungle-gym / slide / swing thingee for around $30 (paid for by retarded brother-in-law), so the monkey can climb on something above soft lush grass, instead of above the hard floors of the house. If he hits his head again, I swear I'm putting him in a helmet till he gets his balance. I see the IQ points left behind on the sidewalk every time he falls.

...

So, yes. Thank you for your patience, and your support, and your cheering us on during this really difficult stretch of our lives. I'll be working soon, and a shitty job will take my mind off the test score for a while. Hopefully, wife will hear news of the job next week - she's already looking for something else; three weeks is just ridiculous. But we can do this. We are better today than we were yesterday. We will be even better tomorrow.

Have a good Sunday, friends.

- T.
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Took the LSAT this morning. [Sep. 26th, 2009|04:41 pm]
Brain hurts now. Rest. No more brain for a while.
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We're back in the 21st Century [Sep. 22nd, 2009|03:08 pm]
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I'm not sure the best way to ring in our return to the online world... porn, cute or funny?

Click and See! )
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Rockabye hotel [Sep. 20th, 2009|03:25 pm]
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Lulling, TX on US 183. Coming back from Austin with food from mother.
Rockabye hotel

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I didn't park right next to the Ferrari... [Sep. 19th, 2009|09:39 am]
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Didn't want to risk him putting a ding in my mom's truck. We're still alive. Doing better.
I didn't park right next to the Ferrari...

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Dear Chris... [Sep. 17th, 2009|04:59 pm]
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(sounding like a walrus) ART!

More comment later.
Dear Chris...

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