So what does any red-blooded American male do mid week during his divorce? Fight Night at the strip club – that’s what!!
Morally reprehensible, fiscally irresponsible, yet it is damn fine entertainment. For the mere cost of cover and some beers you get to see a few women strap on real boxing gear and throw down…. and from what I gather most dancers have beef with each other so they are fighting for real.
Will I regret this decision tomorrow? Probably – but I will deal with that tomorrow…
“Ah yes, divorce, from the Latin word meaning to rip out a man’s genitals through his wallet.” – Robin Williams
As this process is slowly grinding through I am beginning to think that my small bit of savings are about to pull a Houdini and escape from my bank account like magic. Paying for a new place to live while still paying for the house my children live in. Buying new furniture as (a) there is not a spare set lying around and (b) most of what we had was crap anyways so I might as well get new. Setting up a 2nd agreement with city water, cable, electric, heating, etc… Gas and time going back and forth to the kids. And let us not forget the legal retainer and upcoming monthly child and spousal support….
Do I have to pay the alimony bill if my ex has a Masters Degree? The costs are all staggering and right now they are all coming out of my wallet .. Don’t forget about me when I start my Kickstarter to make the monthly tuition bill on the kiddos!!
Divorce – A Survival Guide for Men
Read this as a free Kindle lending library book – interesting book and a good read. The author (Gary Huerta) has a bit of an axe to grind with his ex and details his 7-yr divorce (yes, you read that correctly). There are sections for the soon-to-be divorced (i.e. engaged men) and lots of tips of what NOT to do during your divorce. Check it out – worth a read!
Keeping it short – this is the week of my former wedding anniversary. Normally marked with a fancy dinner, gifts, going out… this year I am contemplating hanging out with the guys or maybe visiting the “ballet” at one of the many establishments in downriver Detroit.
Going to be hard this week – lots of emotion, lots of regret, trying to not remember the good times as that will just bring me down more.
I was flown down to Philly this week for an interview with a private company in King of Prussia, PA? Who the hell is the King of Prussia anyway? Beyond a big-ass mall I did not see anything that smacked of royalty.
According to Wikipedia “The community took its name in the 18th century from a local tavern named the King of Prussia Inn, which was named after Frederick II, King of Prussia.”
The interview went well… it was loooong (spoke with 9 people over 6 hours including lunch). I am expecting them to give an offer this week, but no clue yet whether this will be a fiscally smart move. Definitely will be a problem with custody as neither kid has a desire to relocate to Pennsylvania. They had their heart set on Italy – another topic for another post.
So I am waiting for word. Seems like this is my lot in life these days – waiting on the divorce proceedings, waiting on word about the job, waiting on my new life to begin.
The soon-to-be-Ex sprang a surprise on my last school year by taking my son to get a haircut and bringing back someone with dyed hair and attitude. By the end of 7th grade he looked like a grunge musician with greasy hair past his chin. I think there was about 2-3 weeks where I never saw his face!
Now I have enrolled both kids into a private school and along with the dress code is personal grooming – and the hair is a huge issue. We went several rounds with the Dean and I defended his style as I want to support my son.
In the end we lost the battle, but his hair was cut and I feel like I won a minor victory. He looks like a respectable student now and he learned how to make it look “cool” for after-school activities. So now I just have to keep up private school for the next 5 yrs and I will be able to see his face daily 🙂
Score +1 for dad (and another +1 for the dean)
Where in the parent’s handbook does it say that we, the parents, are responsible for remembering every facet of our children’s life?
The boy brought home math homework prior to Labor Day and proceeded to wait until Tue morning before school to do it. Whose fault? Mine of course – because I told him on Thu afternoon that he could let his homework sit a day so he could start his holiday weekend. How dare I not remind him 4 times daily to do it. He luckily remembered on Monday night at 10pm – how convenient.
A week ago the boy said he needed a certain book for his reading class. I do remember talking to him about this and telling him to ask me after payday and we would get the book. Payday was Friday, I have made numerous shopping trips this weekend, but it was this morning that I was called out for not providing the book. After he decided to get lippy the cell phone was turned off (again).
With paper planners, smart phones that have calendars and to-do lists, and good old post-it notes, why the hell is it dad’s overtaxed memory that is needed to get shit done?
The world may never know…
So what is the worst decision and newly separated man can make? Kick off the mid-life crisis? Check out the working-girls in search of a new love? Buy a new status symbol that you cannot hope to afford on top of legal fees and child support?
In my case it was none of the above… but I did decide to live like a 20-something single guy instead of a 40-something dad of two for a weekend and go on a road-trip. Now don’t get me wrong – I went with a good friend, had a hell of good time, and am looking forward to do it again next summer.
The bad decision part came though in putting my needs before my family. My son was going through a crisis (in addition to the divorce of his parents) and freaking out over a former girlfriend who had the hots for one of his buds. This escalated to him blowing up and verbally attacking the soon-to-be-Ex, getting into fights with friends, and contemplating some risky behavior. I was 6 hours away and as I am getting the blow-by-blow over the phone I felt completely powerless to help.
This was a bit of a reality check for what life apart will be like. At the times when I do not have my kids with me I will be stuck wondering and worrying about them. Dad is there to fix problems, make things right, calm things down… and I was off nerding out at GenCon and ogling the CosPlay girls.
The other bad decision was to check out the local adult entertainment scene in Indy – a local strip club in downtown. Drank too much… smoke too much… spent too much… and did not have the type of fun I used to THINK I had at strip clubs.
It all led to the realization that I am getting older, I have become more responsible, and I need to live my new life like the 40-something Dad of two.
I will go to the nerd-con next year, but I am making plans to bring my son as there were tons of teens there and he will love the event. I will need to find a comparable activity that gives me 1-on-1 time with my daughter. Finally – I will need to find my inner-adult and make sure that he makes the decisions going forward.
So after spending a week at summer camp with my son and feeling like I have a better relationship forming, I get a bombshell dropped on me. Theresa decided that after nearly 15 years and all we have been through that she wanted a divorce.
I know that deep down I should have pulled the trigger on this years ago, but I never had the courage to give her what she wanted – freedom. My addiction, my lies, my dual life all contributed to the end of this relationship…. but her ongoing verbal attacks about me, my family, and my problems finally made it all click in.
She does not love me, and has not loved me for years. I have tried to take care of her, comfort her, pick up her slack, and keep shit together. This has been a one-sided relationship for the last decade – I gave my all and she gave me back nothing. Whatever efforts I did was not good enough, and I never received back the love, comfort, or support I needed.
Am I blameless? Fuck no. I am an addict, I lived with my addiction daily in denial, and I pushed Theresa away with my lack of attention to her base needs. That does not mean the issue was all my fault, but I own my part of this trainwreck.
The Divorce Chronicals 