F.U.B.A.R. at Shawshank with Peter Cottontail

Fucked up beyond all recognition.  It sort of defines me.  Or perhaps I define it.  No matter how you split the orange a piece seems to have gone missing.  More than a piece really.  All I seem to be left with these days is the bitter peel.  The juicy interior . . . the really good stuff . . . gone.  How did I get here?  Where did it all go wrong?  My life as it was at the beginning of this project seems a fragmented dreamscape that I only now catch glimpses of in the distant reaches of my memory.  Sure,...

I have dreamed a dream, but that dream is gone for me now

I am awake, and all too aware of that fact as it turns out.  My absence from this project is a mixture of neglect and self-indulgence.  As our life has done so many times before, we have turned outside to in and inside to out, we have reinvented what we call reality and I can hardly place my finger on how.  In the end, the "how" matters not.  The "when" is of even less significance.  It is those details found in the "what" that I find truly fascinating.  "What" have we become, "what" will come next, and "what" (in...

A Hooker’s Vagina: Promises of the past haunt the realities of the present

It has been more than a month of Sundays since last we spoke and like all things in our lives at present, the blog is in a state of flux. Giving you my best Forest Gump, it must be said that MY momma always said, “Life is like a Hookers Vagina . . . you never know what you gonna get”. These days, it seems like I am living my life in halves. I am sitting on a collection of half-written blog posts about half-witted ideas, written in such a half-hearted manner that I am embarrassed to call them my own. As I sit here staring at a half-eaten sandwich,...

Creativity in a Cardboard Box

If I were the sort to point fingers, I rather suppose that I could create an impressive list of reasons why I have neglected or maybe even lost interest in this project. I could blame the change in latitude and longitude for the snow days that have kept our children under my keep instead of inside the halls of academia. I could blame the nearly 600 boxes of shit that have amassed themselves in the garage of our rental home in what could possibly be argued as the worst move in the history of moving. I could even blame the demands placed upon...

Honey Boo Boo and The Amish Mafia: An American Love Story

Yes indeed sir, you are back in ‘Mereeka. That’s how we hillbillies say “America” don’t you know. We have yet to truly settle and most days I have a want to check with the airlines to see when we should check in for our flight back across the pond. Having shuttled our way through the holidays, we are residing (reluctantly) at an extended stay hotel. Life out of a suitcase is not unfamiliar to our crew, nevertheless, the pressure it creates within the family dynamic is enough to steam a turkey. Sharing limited space and seemingly limitless...

Flight of the Mouseling and a Cure for Literary Constipation

As pressure mounts from the outside to continue with this project I find myself terribly blocked and despite a diet heavy on literary bran muffins, I still can’t squeeze out a single word worth publishing. Indeed it has been some time and we are long overdue, but words don’t really do it justice. The depth and breadth of the change we have undergone over the past month or so has, in fact, left me speechless. Oh, I gave it the old college try a time or two, but to be honest it was a bunch of crap. Tedious paragraphs about packing and unpacking,...

Bats in our Belfry . . . Taking a “Blogcation”

Like a pimply faced teenager taking his first gangly steps into manhood, I am going to do my best to settle back into this project, but do bear with me if I trip over my feet a bit. Pitiful really . . . the amount of time I have put into this project only to let it slip through my fingers like sands through an hourglass. The truth is this little “Blogcation” (Blogging Vacation) was a long time coming. I use the term “Blogcation” as my own personal jab at the sickeningly mundane way we seem to abuse the English language these days with stupid...

Breaking the Silence: Re-Patriatism by Fire and the Elephant that Survived it ALL

Though I have yet to mentally or emotionally sort through the past few months of my life, it feels like it is time to clear my throat. I left for Spain with two posts in incubation and unfortunately they still haven’t hatched. I desperately wanted to have them published before moving on, but we will just have to take things out of chronological order for the time being. Our time here in France is nearly at an end and this final exhale feels a bit like dying. If I am to be honest, I wouldn’t have expected this to be the case. There have been...

Spain, Spain Go Away. I Really Miss My Wife Today

Chester See - God Damn You're Beautiful by Kyz...

Catching up...

Days 10-13: I don’t know how he finds the time to write so often!  I let it go for a few days because I had no response and honestly I’m beat.  Now I know why he gets so frustrated when no one says anything!  Besides, this single parenting stuff is  a lot of work with no time left for yourself- including time to write… So I’ll try to summarize a few days together to get back on track.  Day 10- boring. Got up, went to school, came home, had dinner, did the dishes and went to bed.  Day 11- repeat of day 10 plus a...

Hijacking the blog

Thanks to the hubby who provided the password, here are my "posts" from the last week... Hijacking the Jack Butler Blog… 8/30/12 Well, I thought about hijacking the Jack Butler blog but given my lack of knowledge of blogger and the password I guess this email list will have to work.  While Jack is trekking across Spain I’m going to keep a brief synopsis of the goings on around the house.  I know it always makes me feel better to read what’s going on at home while I’m on the road so this is my attempt to return the favor.  Now beware...