Please update your bookmarks to http://www.nodressrehearsal.org/wordpress — that’s my new location. I am now blogging there exclusively.

NODRESSREHEARSAL.ORG is not quite finished but I am posting over there now. I have made a new posting as of tonight, so head over there to check it out.

Good evening faithful readers. I am away this weekend at my alma mater, 3 hours away from home. I will have limited access, so blogging is probably not going to happen until Sunday night at the earliest.

I have registered and procured hosting for NODRESSREHEARSAL.ORG. I have also installed WordPress 2.0. The last steps will be installing the template and migrating the posts I made here.

PROGRAMMING NOTE: I have registered the domain nodressrehearsal.org and will likely be moving this blog to its own server at that address soon. In the mean time, if you point your browser to http://www.nodressrehearsal.org,you will get to this site. Computer gods willing, I will be keeping the WordPress platform because I really like it, as well as the current layout, which I also happen to like. I hope you do, too. Stay tuned.

After the four-year relationship preceding my marriage ended, my analyst told me to read On Death And Dying by the late psychiatrist Elisabeth Kubler-Ross. This seminal work on the subject of grief introduced the five stages of grief: denial and isolation, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. While at first blush, it may seem odd to read a book about a psychiatrist’s interactions with terminally ill patients when coping with something like the end of a relationship, but when I read it back in 2000, I could see the parallels in my grieving process.

While the decision as to whether or not my wife and I will remain married is far from settled, I have begun to make peace with the possibility that I will lose her, and am beginning to come to the understanding that my life will, indeed, go on. That’s not to say that I want it to happen, but I feel like I am becoming emotionally prepared to handle it if it does happen. I think that my ex and I could have benefited from this couples therapy way back when. I’m not saying that the final outcome would have been any different — and it probably shouldn’t have been — but I think it would have helped us to grow individually, and especially for me would have helped me to better achieve closure.

One of the coping mechanisms I employed early in this process was thinking about “plan B.” The idea of having a contingency plan was — and is — reassuring to me. I’ve had quite a number of plans, some more fanciful than others. Among them were moving back to Arizona, where I lived from 2004-2005, or else moving to my favourite city in the world, Montréal. Outside of geography, I have thought about (re)-learning the guitar, and improving my French (especially helpful in Québec). I know I’ve had other thoughts, but those are the four that are coming to mind right now.

Then I had a “Carrie Bradshaw” moment. I thought about sitting down to write this blog post, and beginning it with a rhetorical question: If these are things that I want to do, why do I have to wait for the end of my marriage? And if I am waiting without a good reason, does that mean that my marriage is holding me back personally? Of course, there are good reasons for not embarking on yet another move with my wife in tow. I am more focused, however, on the personal growth items. Why can’t I (re) learn the guitar or improve my French speaking now? I’m not sure really what the impediment is, or why I feel on whatever level that that should be part of my “single life,” should it come to pass, but these thoughts have crossed my mind and I think the underlying reasons deserve to be explored.

Because it’s been a couple of days since my last post, I actually had a second “Carrie Bradshaw” moment, with yet another rhetorical question popping into my head for use in my posts. Are relationships, like everything else in nature, tending toward a state of entropy? Well, I had it worked out in my head better before. It was totally cool, but it’s now nearly midnight, eastern time, and I should be asleep but I can’t find it it me to do so. Anyway, back to my thoughts on what I call “relationship entropy.” Everywhere I look in my circle of friends, marriages are on the rocks or ending. I have a relative who is two months my senior and whose husband just left her and their one year old daughter. (There were definite reasons for this, but it is not my intention to go into them here). As well, this relative also has a roughly 4 year old son from a previous relationship. So, this relative is in pretty serious trouble. She has no concept of money management, mostly the result of being coddled by her father for way too long. She has always been boy-crazy, and was definitely not the marrying type. However, she did, and the shattered lives left in its wake — especially those of the children involved — are the real tragedy. Speaking of children, one of my closest friends from college and his wife are on shaky ground. They have a beautiful baby boy at home, and from what I can tell it is not a happy home right now. Again, there are definite reasons for these problems, but my point is not to air the dirty laundry of everyone I know, rather to show the downward slope of the relationships I see around me as a composite. So, even though everything here is anonymous, that’s for them to blog *grin*. In addition to these marriages that may be in the final throes, I also think back to my friend from Ohio whose one-year marriage also recently failed. Not a lot of encouragement, there.

I am, however, heartened, to note that out of all the couples I know who are in danger of failing, my wife and I are the only ones seeking counseling. I do believe in it, and I think that it does improve our odds, even though I know that she will not stay with me if she doesn’t think that I am the right person for the her of today and going forward.

So, the sum total of this stream of consciousness is that I am a little more hopeful than I have been in the past, not necessarily regarding whether or not we stay together, but regarding my life after this problem is addressed one way or the other. Basically, it’s either that we will work on these issues and emerge a stronger, more mature couple or else the relationship will end and I will eventually become a stronger, more mature individual as a result. (I must confess that I have tried to ameliorate the pain with humour and have cracked the joke that if we split up, my next relationship will break the “five-foot barrier,” because the two women with whom I have spent the last ten years are both shorter than 5 feet tall — which is kind of strange because I always thought that I fancied a tall(er) woman, but love is what it is.)

So, that’s that.

Now for a brief rundown of the week so far: Monday was counseling session #2. Immediately following the session, I thought that we had made some progress, but now I am not so sure. Tuesday was my first class of the spring semester. Even though I am an information science master’s student, we are required to take a few business classes. One of these is on financial reporting, which is what I have right now. It’s not too bad, and miracle of miracles does not require a group project. Today, I officially entered into a concurrent degree program at my university. What this means is that I will be earning two master’s degrees — one in information science, the other in software engineering — at the same time. The benefit is that I will have to take 20% fewer classes to get both degrees (that’s a savings of 15 credits, or roughly $10,000 based on this year’s tuition). So, I’m excited about that. This whole week I have been looking to re-enter the job market, both because I am bored at my current job (which is mostly because it has zip to do with my chosen field) and because it has no long-term stability (I am a temp with no benefits such as insurance, sick leave or even paid holidays). I am working on polishing up the resume, yet again, and then pounding the electronic pavement. So, in the days to come I will be branching out in my blog posts to cover that search as well. Finally, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that I have been to the gym once this week, and I am still hoping to get the other two times in. My workouts are good, but it’s the finding of time and motivation to get started that have been the problems. That and the self-sabotage of eating fast food after working out doesn’t encourage me to go either.

OK, this was a completely scattershot posting, so I apologize if you can’t follow it. You can at least be happy for me that I have gotten these thoughts off my chest.

To say I’m getting mixed messages is an understatement. Mrs. NDR’s mood goes from snippy and mean-spirited to a place somewhere in the vicinity of normal. All I can say is SIGH! Here’s the weekend rundown: Friday night, due to my ongoing sleep problems, I went to bed actually at 3:30 am on Saturday morning. Saturday, I got up around 9 and in the morning I drove about 20 miles to a relative’s house in order to pick up a Christmas present that had been left there for us. I had lunch with the relative and came back to get ready for our “date.” For our date, we took mass transit into town. Our plan was to have dinner and go to a comedy show. Unfortunately, the wife has her period and when she does she gets sick to her stomach easily. So, several trips to the bathroom later, we were in transit back home. The evening was salvaged, somewhat, by renting a video. We rented a silly comedy — Wedding Crashers — we were trying to keep it light and airy. It was an OK night, but she talked more than once about going out with her friends next week, so again not emotionally present.

I just don’t know what to think.

And to address the observation that I am being a ‘nattering nabob of negativity,’ my negativity about my relationship comes from her emotional absence combined with the bouts of snippiness and shortness… it’s not easy to believe that she wants to continue to be married to me under those circumstances. And quite frankly, this damage that is being done to our relationship is going to make it harder for us to become whole if she does decide that she can stay with me. Moreover, it’s either going to be painful analysis of why Mrs. NDR doesn’t want to be with me, followed by a divorce, or painful analysis followed by painful “rehab.” Either way, we’re looking at a lot of pain and hard work. Lucky me.

That’s about it. Sunday (today) I saw my friend and his lady friend as they came through town on their way for some skiing in Vermont. He tried to get me to ditch work and come, but with all these (unpaid as a temp) holidays recently, I definitely couldn’t afford to be out. It was nice though to have breakfast with them and shoot the shit for an hour. Pancakes were good, scrapple was burned. But there’s no such thing as bad scrapple, so there you go. Then, I went to by tires. I have a confession: I bought them at Wal Mart. I can’t afford to go elsewhere. That’s my goal in life — to have enough money to not shop there. They are pretty good BF Goodriches. I wasn’t going to go with the Douglas piece-o-crap tire, but couldn’t spend the $80+ per tire on the Goodyear American Eagle.

OK, time to try to sleep, so that I can function at work tomorrow.

An aside: The Mrs. and I moved (back) to the city in which we live from Phoenix. Here it’s 28 degrees F (-3 C), and in Phoenix it’s 55 F (13 C) going up to 73 F (23 C). We moved back because… *stumbles for an answer*. Then again, being thousands of miles away and having my marital discord would have been a Bad Thing.

And no, I don’t even pretend that my writing is on par with the inimitable Hunter S. Thompson. I am just taking the advice of one of my profs — start with an interesting title.

Today was the first full day after the first counseling session. The second has been moved to Monday night in order to accommodate our school schedules (we both have classes on Tuesday and Thursday nights). I have come to the realization that even if the Mrs. and I are able to overcome her “feelings,” the emotional wounds that will remain will take a long time to heal over. I got to thinking about it today — I have spent 10 years of my life loving two women. One broke my heart (though I certainly accept my own share of culpability, too), and one is in the process of doing so. Ten years, and with such stellar results. Wow, that’s sobering.

Speaking of sobering, that reminds me of drinking. The Mrs. and I, as I mentioned in a previous post have been assigned to go on a “date.” I have always loved spending time with my wife. However, the idea of a night of stilted conversation, waiting with bated breath to see whether she will decide to be with me or “play the field,” doesn’t sound all that appealing. We’ll be going to our nearest city and going to one of the local bar/restaurant/club thingies for dinner, drinks and light, airy conversation.

Further thoughts on the subject of dating: I haven’t been on a date, in the sense of not being but seeking to be attached, since the Mrs. and I started going “steady” in the summer of 2000. I must admit that the idea of dating again freaks me out. I’ve never been much of a casual dater to begin with. Unfortunately, my emotional makeup is, dare I say, a toxic gumbo when it comes to dating. To wit, I am shy and introverted (at least at first), with inhibited self esteem (can you tell that I did law school for a year?) and, an intense fear of rejection coupled with an intense fear of being alone.

If worst comes to worst, and we go down to D-town, I am afraid that I will be alone forever. Of course, I felt that way after I broke up with the woman I had dated for four years before meeting the Mrs. In between the two, I met a beautiful woman in Montréal called Veronique. Veronique was a cute, sexy French-Canadian with long, dark hair, soft skin and that oh-so-sexy French accent. And, kids, by all accounts, she was actually in to me! As you might be able to imagine, nothing came of that chance meeting because my friends and I were going to be out of town in a few hours. However, the positive result of my fit of liquid-enhanced courage gave me reason to believe. I think back to Veronique from time to time, but time has blunted the positive effects of our meeting, as it has dulled her features in my mind’s eye. I can only hope that something happens to restore my faith in love and goose my self-confidence. If I look at this situation academically, I can see that this will be an opportunity for me to grow, whether the Mrs. and I stay together or not. Unfortunately, because I am the subject of this academic experiment, I can’t see past the pain to the growth.

Side note: I’ve been thinking about blonde haired girls the past few days. No faces, just hair on faceless, female heads floating through my mind like a flying toaster screen saver. I’ve always prefered redheads or brunettes, I wonder if that’s changing?

Now that I’m done my daily blood-letting, I can talk about other things. I am currently listening to Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 album. Why do all the good ones die so young? He was such a gifted songwriter and musician. If you’ve never heard him, I can highly recommend the two albums I have via Napster, Figure 8 and Either/Or. Of course, it helps if you’re an indie rock guy like myself.

Speaking of talented musicians, Lou Rawls died on Friday after a long bout with cancer. It seems like we have lost a lot of great soul and R&B vocalists recently — Luther Vandross, Barry White and now Mr Rawls. Unlike Elliott Smith, Lou Rawls lived a nearly full life (at least statistically), dying at the age of somewhere between 69 and 72, depending on who you ask. Mr Rawls died of lung cancer and a brain tumour. I can hardly imagine what a horrible fate that must have been. In honour of his life, I was going to name today’s post “You’ll Never Find Another Love Like Mine,” but I didn’t think it went with the timbre of the posting, so I didn’t want to disrespect him by forcing the reference when it wouldn’t have been appropriate.

Finally, in the world of politics, there is something I have to get off my chest. If you couldn’t tell from my previous posts (or haven’t read them — yet) I am a pretty liberal guy. I am very much against the vast majority of our current administration’s policies. However, I saw a “BlogAd” on one of my favourite blogs, Crooks and Liars, that made me cringe. It reads, in pertinent part: “(Image: Sick of The Corruption? Stop Future Abramoffs) Congressional Democrats have pushed to clean Congress since long before indictments came down on the culture of corruption and continue to wait for Republicans to sign on.” It then links to a web site hosted by the Democratic Congressional Committee. What’s wrong with this, you ask? Oh, ye of short political memory! Two words for you: Dan Rostenkowski. Who’s that? Mr Rostenkowski was a powerful congressman from Illinois who, in 1994, was indicted on corruption charges related to check kiting and wound up serving 15 months of a 17 month jail sentence! For the DCC to intimate that their party has cornered the market on honesty is, well, dishonest. And do they think anybody really buys it? The political bullshit carousel continues to spin…

One last comment before I wrap it up for the night. It’s directed at the fearless leader of the United States:

Spying on American Citizens Really Is Illegal!

Be well, cyber-cats. I’ve always been better at giving advice than taking it.

Tonight was the first night of couples counseling.  Surprisingly not much to say. Mrs. NDR is finding out that now that she has a good job and friends she is wanting the single lifestyle. We have agreed that we were too young when we got married. But what is the answer? The therapist says, and the Mrs. agrees, that this could go either way. My “homework” is to give her space, and her homework is to be nicer and more upbeat. Is this what we have been reduced to? This weekend we are supposed to be going out on a “date,” and our next meeting with the therapist is to be on Tuesday. I am just praying to whatever god there is for some strength. I could sure use some. No piss or vinegar tonight. Pretty emotionally drained, and tired.

Two days in a row my posts are also song titles. Go figure. The Red Hot Chili Peppers’ Californication was a good album. Yes, it was pretty commercialised (see my previous post), but those boys can still rock out, I don’t give a shit.

Not surprisingly today was not any better than yesterday, at least on the relationship front. I think, however, I have begun to drill down to the core of the issue.

To borrow from Johnny Cash, Mrs. NDR and I got married “in a fever” — we were engaged for 2 months, actually. Of course we had been together for 3 years in total by the time we were married, but she feels that was rushed. The bigger issue, though, is that the Mrs. was not quite 21 when we got married and I was one day shy of 24. Now, fast forwarding almost 3 years, the Mrs. has a new job that she loves, filled with young, single, female coworkers she has befriended (get your mind out of the gutter, pervert). Now she feels like she has missed out on the single lifestyle because we had been together since a couple of months before her 18th birthday. So, what’s the answer? I don’t, quite frankly know. We are both committed, however, to exhausting all avenues to try to rehabilitate things before going down to the big D (and that ain’t Dallas, kids). To that end, we are going to start marital counseling tomorrow. Perhaps we should have had some counseling before we got married? Say what you will about Catholics (and I could write a book), but I think that their premarital counseling is a good idea (albeit I have no data to support its efficacy — it just seems like a good idea).

I got to talk to one of my best friends from college on line tonight. He lives about 2 hours away. I was hoping to go see him this weekend, but it doesn’t look like it’s going to work out. However, just our little chat tonight was a nice dose of catharsis.

All in all, I am getting pretty numb to the whole thing. The hardest thing for me to accept has been my complete lack of control over the situation. I have to make myself understand that, in this situation, there is absolutely nothing I can do to change things. Either the Mrs. will make peace with her situation and see the good parts of being married (she says she still loves me, and I believe her and love her too) or else she won’t. Other than being the best husband I can be, there’s not much else I can do. It’s not like I did a particular, tangible thing to fuck things up like cheating on her (I never would) or kicking the dog (we dont have one, and I wouldn’t do that either). That, in a way, would be better for me because I could see the cause and effect. This, on the other hand, is very nebulous to me. I am completely at the mercy of the Mrs.’ feelings and emotions. The sooner I can get that through my oversized head, the better. (Dirty minds).

I have been debating all night whether to make this post or not because a former lover an ex is a reader (and is one of the few who know my true identity), but I have to get this off my chest, so here goes.

The marriage that I thought was on pretty solid footing is, in Mrs. NDR’s opinion, not so much. What’s so frustrating is that she is not very communicative about what the problem might be. Whenever I try to elicit some sort of information, she shuts me down with “I don’t know” and similar cop-outs.

No doubt, I was not under the illusion that our relationship was perfect. We are going on 6 years together, and 3 years of marriage. That’s a considerable amount of time to be so close with one person, so tensions are bound to come up. I also know that, while I try to be the best husband/friend/lover/etc I can be, I am far from perfect. I can be cranky and contankerous (yes, both of these at the tender age of 26), stubborn, annoying and at times a big honking pain in the ass. That being said, however, my wife has heretofore accepted me and loved me in spite of my flaws. Mrs. NDR has her own set of issues. She is frequently insecure and suffers, as I do, from diminished self-esteem. I think at least part of our issue — whatever it might be — stems from this lack of self-esteem.

So, we are in the process of seeking marital counselling. I think it is a good thing that both of us are committed to doing it. Hopefully it will allow us to understand ourselves and each other better, thereby strengthening our relationship.

Complicating matters — in the intimacy department — and not like Mrs. NDR is frequently in “the mood” under these circumstances, but she started out on Paxil a few weeks ago and now the shattered remains of her sex drive are a distant memory. I think that I have always had a higher sex drive than the Mrs., but with these newfound tensions coupled with her medication, the chasm is growing ever wider. So, I try to be as supportive as possible, and don’t press the issue. Though, to borrow from one of my favourite comics, the late great Kerry Talmage — “I’ve been beating my dick like it owes me money!” Sorry for being so graphic, but that’s the freedom I feel from blogging anonymously! I must admit this is pretty cathartic, even though very few (if any) people will ever see it (though I wouldn’t mind my 15 minutes, either).

So between the potholes in the road of my marriage and my worthless, thankless job I am feeling like a failure and completely emasculated. Maybe its time for a shrink on my own — a two-fer!

Moving off of my shit-ass shituation, it’s probably been shittier for former house majority leader Tom DeLay’s friend and business partner, Jack Abramoff, as he pled guilty to 3 charges as part of a cooperation deal with the Feds. Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy! In the WaPo picture, doesn’t he look like a total douche? Now all I wanted for Christmas is our favourite bug sprayer from Sugar Land to be heading for the hoose gow, maybe it’s coming late?
And in international news, what is going on in one of my favourite places — T.O. (that’s Toronto, not Terrell Owens, wiseass). Specifically, gun violence is near record highs in my beloved city. On Boxing day (that’s December 26th), a 15 year old girl, Jane Creba, was gunned down on one of Toronto’s main thorofares, Yonge Street. From all accounts, she was a completely innocent bystander at the wrong place during a gang dispute. It’s sickening. Apparently, the government believes that it’s an influx of guns from… guess where, class? Yes, that’s right the U.S.! Then again, the Toronto Star isn’t buying it. Whatever the case, it’s pretty scary to think that a city that has prided itself for so long on being one of the safest in the world is beginning to lose control to these forces of violence.
OK, I really do need to try to go to bed, even though it’s been pretty difficult these days. Insomniacs of the world, goodnight.

When did I cross over into being old(er)? I got to thinking about this when I heard some people on the television talking about popular music. Then, a trip to Billboard.com confirmed it. I am really no part of today’s musical scene. Out of the top ten positions on the Billboard Hot 100 chart for the week ending 7th January 2006, I have listened to exactly zero of the songs.

Out of the top 10, we have manufactured pop princesses The Pussycat Dolls,Best Buy’s bitches The Black Eyed Peas (but don’t tell anybody that Let’s Get It Started started out as Let’s Get Retarded before it was clear that wouldn’t sell any of Best Buy’s shit), then there’s Kanye West who at least has the courage of his convictions, but manages to mangle up a perfectly good Ray Charles song (I’ve Got A Woman).

I’m not just going to pick on hip-hop artists, though. The only “rock” entry in the top 10 are homogenized, radio-friendly Canadians Nickelback. I pick the word homogenized specifically because their songs all sound the same.

Of course, my personal musical tastes have for the most part never been commercially viable. In my research for this posting, I learned that instead of becoming “uncool,” it turns out I was never cool to begin with. Just like in the current Billboard Hot 100 chart, the charts from the first week of 1996 as well as the first week of 1991 are filled with pop princesses (Mariah Carey was #1 in 1996, Wilson Phillips was #6 in 1991) and pseudo-rawkers (Goo Goo Dolls were #10 in 1996; Damn Yankees were #4 in 1991, indeed a long way from Cat Scratch Fever).

Maybe that’s comforting in a way… the more things change, the more they stay the same.

Happy New Year to all of you in blogland. Here’s to hoping that your 2006 is better than your 2005. My 2005 certainly had its share of highs and lows, but today if no other is a day for optimism.

My wife and I saw Planes, Trains and Automobiles today. Instead of watching it edited and with commercials on TBS, we rented the DVD. To paraphrase the film — the fucking movie is not the fucking same without the fucking car rental scene.

Earlier in the day, we actually went to a theatre for another movie. It was one of my wife’s picks, definitely wouldn’t have been one of my own — Rumor Has It… starring Jennifer Aniston (who, sadly, is getting a bit long in the tooth) and the thespian for the ages, Mark Ruffalo. What a tour de force Ruffalo turned in. Wanker. Ruffalo aside, the movie was not as bad as I had expected, nor as bad as Carrie Rickey’s review in the Philadelphia Inquirer had portended. However, I do agree with Ms Rickey’s assessment with regard to to three of the supporting players: Shirley MacLaine, Kevin Costner and (the always terriffic) Kathy Bates. She writes: “In a film about as funny as ground chuck, these three are the Hamburger Helpers.” MacLaine and Costner, and to a small extent (due to her very small role) Bates, turned a one-star film into a two- or two-and-a-half star film. I must also say, I am not typically into blondes but there’s just something about Mena Suvari. Yum. It was probably her performance in American Beauty (an excellent film, and, as it turns out a variety of rose — took me 6 years to “get” that) that did it for me, not so much this film, to be honest.

Turning my gaze to politics, now. Is it any wonder that I have ADD? (Not to mention it took three hours to get these few paragraphs churned out). When I first saw this headline — Is Bush Worship A Cult? — on Pensito Review, I thought it was a joke. Apparently not, and the argument is rather convincing. I consider myself a pretty tolerant person of a wide variety of philosophies, but I wust say that a whole wide range of negative feelings come out when I hear a Bush or one of his sycophants is on the TV — hell, even the W’04 bumper sticker pisses me off. Those are some scary people. How, in light of everything that has come out about Mr Bush’s administration — from the illegitimate war in Iraq to the cronyism to the torture to the outing of a secret CIA operative — do people still support him? I saw another bumper sticker on the road the other day. It read: Support Our Troops And President Bush. Aren’t those two things mutually exclusive concepts? And check this out. To paraphrase George Carlin: You know what they ought to do with these churches? Tax them. If they’re so interested in politics, government and public policy let them pay the fucking admission price like everybody else. Oh, and while I’m railing against churches, check this and this church sign out. Is it any wonder that Christians are getting a bad rep? In fairness, though, not all of them are complete wackadoos. If you haven’t already, please check out ChurchSignGenerator.com, where all of the church sign links came from. It’s an excellent site and a good laugh.

Finally, in the world of sport, my Philadelphia Eagles mercifully ended their 2005 campaign today with a loss to the visiting Washington Redskins. To go from Super Bowl contenders one year to 6-10 the very next is disappointing at the very least. I am not your “typical” Philly fan in that I am not calling for the head of (coach) Andy Reid, or (quarterback) Donovan McNabb. Fans in other cities pale in comparison to Philly in terms of our ability to turn on our sports teams. We are also well known for booing Santa Claus, but I digress.

Well that’s it for now. Bed, and sleep, are calling.