I wonder where the toe ring is supposed to be worn? I know women never had the right/left problem, but there is the wedding finger type of issue. So which is it? Seems like most are on the second toe, or fourth toe. Something against the odd one in the middle? I've noticed them more and more lately, along with ankle bracelets. Of course, that is another spark for depression, but I will fight it with thoughts of putting one on someone else's ankle who appreciates me. How the hell did I go from toe rings to depressing ankle bracelets?

Nobody thinks about what they are going to wear on an airplane flight. Am I that anal? Am I paranoid? I remember reading something about the proper attire in case you had to evacuate. Most injuries occur on the escape chute (burns, twisted or broken ankles). So shorts and flip flops are out , but that is all you see these days. I always go with jeans and tennis shoes. And a short sleeved shirt. Good temperature regulation, good mobility to get to that gate clear across the airport, and I'm safe if I have to slide down that chute.

I see you, and I can hear what you are saying, but I don't understand you. Hell, I don't even know why you are talking to me. Is it me you are talking to even? Am I here? If I concentrate I can push back the dark edge of the fog and actually see most of the whole room. But I don't care about the room, or you, so I don't concentrate. The edges constrict back down so that I'm looking at life through a straw. Then I DO have to concentrate, to keep the blackness from swallowing me up.

All I see at the end of that tunnel of light is a happy little boy and a smiling wife. Everyday I concentrate hard enough to push back that black fog swirling around the edges of my existence, to keep that tunnel of light open toward the only joy I have ever known. I see them then, and now, and in the future. Sometimes, I even catch a glimpse of me in that future, and it gives me enough hope to wake up tomorrow, and push back that fog again, hope that the future does exist, for me and us.

But one day the fog almost won. It chose stealth and surprise by waiting until the day was done. I was on the treadmill, trying to run away from the fog like I always did, and it just kept catching up. I could feel it gaining with every step I pounded out, and knew that this time I would not be strong enough to keep it at bay. That tiny view of my boy and my wife began to slip farther and farther away, while I grasped futilely with numb hands driven by a numb brain. The fog was suffocating.

I struggled as long as I could by myself, but the end was near. I realized I couldn't win the battle by myself, but getting help seemed like the end of the world too. I called my wonderful wife and sought shelter in her lee. She was amazingly stoic and calm as I crumbled around her at $3 a minute. Do what you have to do, she said. Fix yourself, get alive, then figure everything else out. What would I do? Who would I turn to? My options seemed limited, so I just surrendered at the emergency room in Iceland.

The world did not end! I was absolutely amazed. Dumbfounded. As soon as someone else knew about the fog I fought everyday, it was as if the fog knew it's days were over. It was outnumbered now. It didn't battle just me, but everyone that lined up with me to battle this evil. High and low, everyone pointed to the bright path toward a glorious future, and knowing they were on my side made it so much easier to see the path, and follow it. This new road was rocky, I knew that. But I couldn't see all the pitfalls.

She had cheated on me. In the depths of my disease, while the fog hunted me down, she had given up on me. She sought happiness and passion and love in someone else's arms, while I was gone. But she never even told me how unhappy she was. Never gave me a chance to fix myself and then fix us. She never even tried to fix us. Just gave up, hopped the fence and kept going. All the while pretending to be my wife. Saying ‘I love you', ‘making love' to me, holding my hand, while sending him the pictures.

But I didn't know that. I came home, I tried to put us back together, the ‘us' I thought I knew. We went, we saw, we played, we argued, we loved. Or so I thought. She was just pretending, going through the motions. Biding her time, knowing I would be transferred out of town most likely in the spring. I found out about the cheating (email trail), but the shock led quickly to denial. I wanted to fix us still. I never noticed she never said ‘I'm sorry' or even ‘I love you'. I struggled against the dark, foggy remnants.

A break. That's all she said. I want a break. I'm confused, I don't know what I want, but I need a break from us. I clung to that as a sign of hope. It wasn't I want a divorce. So denial served me well, for a few months. We're just on a break. There's hope for the perfect life yet. But then something broke through this new fog, and I realized she was on a break from me, but not him. How could we get better if she was focused on him and not us? What was I thinking?

So we are getting a divorce. The Big D. I'm now a statistic that I never thought I would be in a thousand years. It was all so shocking I literally couldn't fathom it. On top of just coming out of the fog. All tolled, it was just another pile of crap on top of me as I wallowed in the gutter. I've got no place to go but up. Everything is new and wide open, and I have no restraints now. I can do what I want, when I want, and find the person I want that has everything.

Enough of that. Hell, I'm depressing myself more. It's all the truth, and my history, but that doesn't mean I have to relive it. Time to move on. Figure out how to live single again, really live, and without the aid of the college environment. That's the last time I really did this, and I'm definitely not 20 anymore. That's a great way to be single, surrounded by 20,000 other single people of the same age. Now I have to sift through all the other flotsam, the ones that haven't weathered this crap as well as I have. What fun.

Make up words. Making up for missing a day actually. I'm trying to write each and every day and catch some nuances. Not that the first ten entries were ‘dailies', but who cares? Feeling better today. Got some cyberspace fem attention. Just what I needed. Anxiously awaiting a photo to see what her definition of ‘average body' is. I can only hope. She picked me too which I like. Had a good workout, doing back and bis. Really feeling the lunges (in the butt!), just hope that is better for my knee than lifts. I have hope again, thank god.

Now that I wrote about today for yesterday's words, what to do? One of the online honey's I emailed was a former air traffic controller, liberal, writer, free spirit looking for someone that is sexually adventurous. Gotta wonder about that last part, but I'll try just about anything once! She was cute, not a total hottie, but definitely good looking. Gotta wonder about the air traffic control part too. They usually seem to be chain smoking ex-Acs, but she seemed normal. I could see why she wouldn't want to stay a controller. Just like I don't want to stay Navy.

She said she would send me her picture LAST night. Now why would someone NOT do that, on this version of the internet first date? Really sets a bad precedent and bad impression on their trustworthiness, and the value they put on their word. Had bad tastes with that from Kathy (I'll call you tonight, yea right!). Maybe they know I am desperate enough to put up with it. Well, for a bit at least. As far as Kathy goes, I've given up putting in the time to call her a lot to keep up. I'm not her priority. Whatever!

Wow! Didn't realize I had put this off so much. Shame on me. Finally got the picture from Miss Savannah. Pretty cute, from the neck up. Always got to wonder what's in the rest of the picture. But I'll take a shot with most people, because I am just looking for friends to start with. Has to be that spark that you can't really define (or devine) from a picture for it to go to another level. Tried to ask a few questions, but she didn't reply much. Want to get on regular email with her, makes things much easier.

Still not calling Kathy. Is that immature? I am playing a sort of game, to see if she'll call me first. Trying to figure out where I fit in her life. I guess that ‘non-game' thing to do would be to just ask her, but at the same time that seems immature (don't you like me?). I figure adults are each just as capable as each other to call if they want to talk with that person. Takes a level of interest in that person. Not interested, no call. The end of this week will be two full weeks already!

Been traded great, flirtatious emails with MagicalJoy. Quite the cutie (actually reminds me of a girl from college I dated that I can't remember her name right now). She liked the Officer and a Gentleman tag (and the movie) and wanted to know if I would carry her off in to the sunset. Of course I would! Then the candle light dinner. She said today she came home from work to check her email to see if I had written. That's a good start. So I threw in a back rub. I'd like to move to real email with her.

Been working out regularly for two weeks now. Wow, I'm on a roll! Feels good, and I really think it is helping my knee. Did lifts and hamstrings the first week, now just doing lunges. Shoulder is slowly getting better. Still not doing anything heavy anywhere, although I did some good bicep work yesterday. Really want to get into the running again and get this gut off. Tried to tan it this afternoon, but I need to just run it off. I was going to wait until the end of the month, but I don't think I can! Let's run!

Emailed a cute runner that has two kids. Very good looking woman, and seems to be in good shape. She had pictures that went below the neck. We'll see what happens. I think from her profile that she was doing the free post, so I included my regular email. We'll see what happens. I have a feeling I might get more going than I can handle. Actually, it would be fun to have 3 or 4 dates a week. Might get costly, but oh well. Speaking of which, am in the throes of document production for the divorce. What fun.

Traded some great emails with TLC. Very affectionate. Worried that I haven't seen her in person, or from the neck down. Also don't know how recent the picture is. Would be a crushing blow in a way to meet her and not be physically attracted to her. Rolling the dice though. Will have to make sure not to commit anything until I meet her. And this time if it's not right, I need to tell her so. She's out of town this weekend, so it will be interesting to see what her first contact is. Patiently waiting with growing anticipation.

Can't decide whether to decorate the place or not. Part of me says just do it, make it home. Part of me says save the money, plus I'll only be around half the time in the next eight months. Save it all for the house. I go back and forth on this one. Would help if the divorce was final and the house was sold. Then I'd really know what my finances would be like. I guess I'm going to wait. For the big things at least like windows treatments. Might go for the bakers shelves soon, because I can.

Rode the bike today, after fixing a pinhole flat and redoing the rear inner tube also. Took the nut off the stem and put it on the outside. Don't know if that is right, but seems better than on the inside. Still feel like the seat is up just a tad high, and tilted to far nose down. Need to adjust those, and loosen the left clip. Can't get into it at all without putting full force on it. Did fifteen miles, about forty-five minutes. That's the right amount for now until I really get back into it. Felt good.

Went to the beach today. Alone. Not so much fun, although it was the perfect day. Pure sunshine, a nice breeze and not sweltering. Got a nice single guy burn on my back: no lotion below the shoulders. Don't think it will peel. Still need to keep getting chest rays and tan up that fat. What little I have. But still, a good tan on my chest would do wonders for me. Haven't heard from Miss Savannah. Wonder if she is a stewardess? Nothing from Kathy either, although I called her and left a message today. Want to see Terri!

Another Monday with horrendous traffic onto the base. The stoplights were short cycling, so it was backed up all the way across the intercoastal. An hour to go 3 miles! I can walk that fast! Then back and forth trying to figure out the training, so nothing accomplished until after lunch. Then not much as usual. Could use a new job, but can't just quit and get a new one like a civilian. Just need to not get fired, because that is a possibility. Worked out, with the knee feeling stronger from the lunges. Can't wait to start testing it.

Wow! What a night of chat last night. Four hours, tons of flirting, and some quite odd episodes too. She's quite a handful, and a lot of fun too. Knows who and what she is, that is for sure. And very Christian, which seemed a bit at odds with the flirtation. Something isn't quite right, and I have a feeling I find out what it is next week when we have a dinner date. I'm cooking, here! What was I thinking? Oh, will be interesting, that is for sure. I hope she isn't all tease, although she promised a kiss!

Well, this is tough, because I am behind so playing catch up. I'll try and play it sequentially. Spent tonight chatting again til late. Not as flirtatious, but good all the same. She didn't remember that we had set the date for Wed, thought it was Friday. Odd. Still had that feeling that something wasn't quite right, and was no fighting the urge to drop by and see her at work. Just have to see if that picture is close. She said something about it being slightly old, with some untold story about just hating to have her picture taken.

Day of the children in divorce class. Fighting the urge to go see her at work on the way over in the afternoon. Wanted to because it would make the weekend great knowing she did look just like the picture and wasn't way out of shape. Gave in to the urge and did it. Truth be told! Looks nothing like the picture (except maybe 15 years older). And fat. Not round, but lots of nice rolls. Not what I like. So I'm in the quandary, because I'm too nice to just tell her to fuck off. We have to talk.

Let me tell you about the good looking girl at the divorce class that I didn't ask out. My biggest blunder to day probably. She was outgoing, well dressed, thin (my definition of average at worst, but still thin), and very good looking. We were the only ones that volunteered to sit in front of the class for a demo. I chatted with her afterwards as the instructors were looking for her diploma. She joked she couldn't get divorced without it. I laughed, but just left. Should have gotten her number, or at least tried. Guess I am the wimp.

Ah, the weekend. With duty. Have to show up from seven thirty to nine thirty. Check messages, that sort of thing. Not a bad duty, except having my son this weekend. Won't be a lot of fun trying to get him up at six thirty every morning. But once we are there, he is well behaved, playing while I get my work done, then we played Uno until time to leave. Close to the beach then, so lots of beach time. I didn't put on the suntan lotion this time, so I started a nice burn on my chest. Ouch.

Pool day today, instead of the beach. Still getting the rays, especially on my big ass forehead. Oh well. We had fun with the balls and torpedoes. A little bit of eye candy to keep dad from leaving early. Miss red that I have seen before, and her fat friend, discussing their drunken adventures on Saturday night. I'll pass. Miss black, with quite the nice bod, but needs something for the breakouts. Lights out would take care of that. Then the little fire hydrant. Nice proportions though. So a day at the pool with my son turned into a lechfest.