internet + self pleasure = boredom = beer

I am ready to admit that I eat, and or drink when I am bored.
The path that I took to discover this...

• I finished my last post
• spent some time reading blogs
• considered how bad my last blog sucked
• found a very interesting blog called All About My Vagina
  considered deleting my last post, became engrossed in Sarah's honest and complete exploration of many topics
• considered deleting my entire blog
• became rather enthused by a couple of Sarah's topics and... pleasured myself
• checked my email, no new messages, and went to the kitchen
• wanted to get another beer but instead finished off a grapfruit
• wanted to eat some chocolate but instead left the kitchen
• watched half of a Simpson's episode and returned to the kitchen
• again wanted beer or wine or anything with alcohol and again said no
• said no to a peanut butter sandwich, said no to baked potatoe chips, said no to peanut butter and crackers
• finally decided to make some 94% fat free popcorn (single serve bag)
• ate the popcorn returned to the kitchen (for the trashcan I assure you)
• decided to get a drink, passed on the diet coke and unsweetened iced tea
• got an Amstel Light
• went back to the Simpson's episod
• realized I had spent more time in the kitchen than at the tv
• again considered how lame bad my last blog was
• thought about my almost empty beer
• and started talking myself out of another one

when it started to sink in...
I spend a little too much time looking at food and drink in the fridge.

I don't do this during the week only on the weekends. And It only happens when I am bored.

Then a second thought hit me...
Would I have become bored with the internet if I had not pleasured myself??

I want to learn. I want to grow. I want to change.

I am not going to pleasure myself (using the internet or pc) for one full week. Let's see if I am more productive and stay out of boredom. I'll keep you posted.

welcome back

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a photo blog idea

I was thinking of creating a photoblog. An adult photoblog to display my collection or rather selections. I could blog about what I like or see in each photo. It sounds like a really good idea to me. However would it be "legal." Not that I would post illegal photos, it just seems likely to not be allowed. You must ensure that the viewer is at least 18 yoa. How would you do that on a blog?

I know just the photo I would use to start it off with. The woman in the picture is truely happy and quite proud. It's titled as found, "stumpy.jpg"

Paint my toenails?

I have the desire to paint my toenails. I want to paint them blue. I have painted them before. Too feminine? What do you think?

I find it exciting and taboo. Like I walk around all day with this secret and no one has any idea. It makes me smile when I think about it. And when I forget about it, which happens a few times during such an event, and remember my blue toenails and have a big blink-blink oh yeah reaction.

But I really want to know... What do you think about it?

To me its innocent fun...
It doesn't denote my sexuality. It doesn't mean I want to be a woman. It doesn't mean I want to wear women's clothes. It just feels bold and daring like wearing a thong during an important presentation.

David times infinity

I don't normally do this but...

Check out my new favorite thing on the internet, it's David times infinity.

Just to keep with the mission of this blog...
I feel happy about David and his underwear, and his underwear, and his underwear...
This page has been open on my mac all day.

What I know about my biological father

I know his name, "John."
He was in the Army and served in Vietnam.
He was older than my mother.
Their "relationship" was very short.
His parents lived two streets over from my grandparents.

I have seen a few pictures of him.
My grandmother saved a couple of snapshots and a military photo of him getting an award of some sort (outdoor area, rolled up sleeves, medal pinned on chest kind of thing.) According to her he brought the military picture over to show her and accidentally left it behind. She saved it and gave it to me a few months ago.

I cried and cried when I saw it. I had never seen anyone who looked that much like me. We have the same thick adams appleless neck. The same eyebrows and ears. Even the same texture, thickness and color of forearm hair.
But I don't know if I would actualy want to try and locate him. The thought of calling him or knocking on his door really scares me.

I don't know if:
he is still alive
he has other children
he knows/suspects that I exist
he would want anything to do with me
we have any common interests

I almost joined the Marine Corps when I was in high school. I was really into wearing military clothes. I asked for a jungle camo jacket for xmas in my freshman year. And still have it. I have worn out many pairs of military pants at work. I wonder what my mom thought when I started asking for and wearing that stuff.

I have always wondered if he knows all the stuff I ever wanted to know. As if by some cosmic force I have been interested in and learned about things that will give us common ground when we meet. If we meet.

he IS NOT my father

I have many unanswered questions and so many unresolved issues in my past, I really don't know where to even begin.

What's on top right now...

The biggest two are:
1. I would like to change my name
2. I would like to clean up my relationship with my adopted dad.

Hmmm, let's explore number 2...
I would like to tell my "parents" that I am not going to pretend to acknowledge my adopted father as my dad. I have for a long time although I do not think of him that way. It's easier to let people think I have a nice neat past than to try to explain that he's not my biological father. Certainly the next question would be, who/where is your biological father? What a messy answer, I don't know. He's always lived in the same town as me but I never looked him up. He doesn't know I exist. Why haven't you met him? Aren't you curious? Not really (fake answer). I'm afraid to messy up his life and further turn my life upside down(honest answer). Most reunions on Oprah turn out poorly. Even my grandmother has dropped the idea since seeing that followup story on Oprah. Seeking him out is a way off, if I ever pursue it.

One step toward being a better me would be to meet with my "parents" and talk about what I want to do and why. I want to stop acknowledging "Glen" as my dad. I feel shame when I do and I think of myself as fake. I am telling a lie and living a lie. I just want to call him Glen and drop it. I don't want to be introduced as his son any more. He shouldn't get indirect credit for any of my accomplishments. He did not raise me. He was too afraid to make a mistake and did not try.

BTW, I am not starting from zero here. I have done some work up to this point. Glen and I had a big conversation on xmas day in 1997. Glen wrote me a letter (partial delivered unto him by god) wanting this big close relationship. Wuppidy-Due. It had overriding tone of "And all this can be yours, if you join our church." We talked and talked during an hour car ride. I skillfully boiled his apology down to, why did you do the thing that you are trying to apologize for? The bottom line was he was afraid to try so he did nothing. It was safer for him to not try then he wouldn't risk messing up. Good for Glen, now we know what makes him tick. This doesn't change me, I am still fucked up.

What's bringing this up now is I am showing people pictures of my son. Glen is in a couple of them and people are telling me how much I look like him. WTF. He's holding my son, who doesn't look like him. I do not look like Glen. I don't look like anyone.

I don't look like anyone.

That makes me sad.

What would I get out of changing this relationship? I would be taking a stand and defining myself. It would define who I want to be and who I want to be seem as by my son... A man standing in clarity about his messy past. A man able to explain, discuss and answer any question about his past. A man able to past on the lessons of his actions to his inquisitive son.

lust at first sight

I saw a beautiful woman at work today...

I have not had this wow feeling in a while. She walked up and sat down at a table next to mine. I looked up immediately to see a very attractive brunette tommy-boy hottie. She was wearing a long-sleeved stripped light colored button down oxford shirt and dark pants. Her straight hair spilled onto her shoulders neatly framing her nearly makeupless face. I had to grit my teeth to hold back an exclamation. The other people I was sitting with did not notice her or my reaction to her (I have quite the poker face it seems.) I knew I had to play it cool.
She was joined shortly by a friend, I took another long look. My heart went thump, thump, thump in my chest as I tried to soak up every second. I might not get another peak I thought to myself. Dark lipstick, strong face, tall thin frame; she reminded me of lime juice. Not something everyone would like but a full pallet for those with the acquired taste.
I took a third gander just for confirmation. And yes, she sent my pulse around the track. Wow I thought, I have not experienced this feeling in quite a while. It feels good.

As I think about her now she reminds me of Jo on Facts of Life. I always liked Jo.

We'll have to explore this more later...

Me, a fatherless dad

I never thought that have a son would stir such emotion about not knowing my father. Often I look down at him when I think he has drifted off to sleep and he is looking up at me. His still dark infant eyes unblinkingly studying my silhouette. I smile, he just studies and works his soothie. I've got you, I reassure him, your daddies got you.

The first few weeks I felt intense sadness and pain during these exchanges. Wishing that I had the chance at these same experiences and memories. Would I be different if I had? Would my life be better? How many of my decisions would have been different if I had the childhood my son will have? How different would my sons childhood be if I had known my father?

--aside--
I took a break from blog because I think this blog gad whinny. I am not getting the balance of emotions blogged. Every time I want to write it's about something sad and whinny. Something that I judge to be whinny and complaintive. Who the f would want to spent time reading something this whinny when there is soo many other good blogs to read?
Great this aside even sounds whinny.
--aside over--

I do no think I am the person I was supposed to be. I have a tangent life to the one I could have had. There I said it.

I am way too talented to be here doing this. I passed on tons of great opportunities because I lack basic self confidence. Basic self confidence that comes from knowing who you, no I am.

Who am I? Why did my mom choose to not tell my Vietnam bound dad? What fucked family flaw made her and my grandparents do this on their own? Were they afraid they would lose me to him? That they would have to share me?

I know that in that time woman would had children out of wedlock were frowned upon. This could have been some big family shame that would have caused them to hide and move away. But they didn't, they stayed where they were and defended me and my mother. They did okay, I suppose it could have been worst.

Can I be a good father not even having had a model for how to do it poorly? I suppose this is a question that will definitely be answered.