Apartment Love

When I first left my beautiful home I moved into a single 1 bedroom apartment in the only complex in my girl’s school attendance zone.  I had to get the 1 bedroom and go on a “waiting list” for the larger 2 bedroom.  At first I was a little perturbed.  They stuck me in this first floor apartment in the very back.  I was isolated.  My patio faced the boundary fence and on the other side was a 24 hour clinic.  I would never see another human being.  Sitting on my patio with wonder dog Fred was quiet.  Lonely even…  No noise…  The guy next to me backed into my truck causing a simple scratch.  He left his name on number on a note under my windshield wiper.  If I would of not got this note I would of never talked to anyone by this apartment.

I finally got to move to the 2 bedroom.  It was in the center of the complex.  Downstairs and full of the hustle bustle activity.  I’m sitting here at 7:11 pm typing this looking out my window and watching people walk by.  This place is like grand central station.  Every neighbor makes more noise than you can possible imagine.  On Friday and Saturday nights I think they have Fight Club in the parking lot.  Luckily I am a sound sleeper and don’t really give a shit about noise.

I’m actually entertained. I absolutely love to be in the center of the world.  I think I would prefer to live in a studio warehouse apartment above a bar in downtown Houston.   I will grab a beer and sit on the patio and watch the 20-somethings argue about what-nots.  Its cheap reality television for me.

My blinds in the bedroom rarely are closed.  I notice that I get ready at 4:45 AM and its still dark outside.  I shower and then stand naked at the sink fixing hair, applying deodorant, etc….  I leave the bathroom door open because it fogs up the mirror if I don’t.  I know the people in the parking lot probably get to see my ass every morning if they would care enough to get up that early for a fun show.  But due to the fact I walk Fred at 4:40 AM every morning I am all alone again.  Nobody in an apartment wakes up that early.  This is a night crowd place.  Most of the young 20-somethings go to work in the afternoon wearing restaurant aprons, tight fitting shorts, or uniforms.  I have multiple college degrees make enough money to put me in a high tax bracket and I’m living in the same type of place I drank myself silly when I was in college.

Living the dream!

I ran across this video and had to crack myself up.  I think this is brilliant.  I’m thinking of moving upstairs just to come up with these ideas.

What a way to pass time!

Tinder Box

Ok…. I am scared after reading this news article.  Tinder has been taken too far.  This movie, Ava, posted a fake Tinder profile and had it out there on the dating app.  Men could like Ava and start chatting/texting with her.  This is a computer!!!


I don’t know what to say about this!  I am glad that I have a new “girlfriend” and will be staying away from the dating APPS.  But this is just downright scary.

I can just picture the poor lonely soul that falls in love with the Tinder app of a computer!  Please….

Good luck single guys.

Grilling in a skillet

Grilling in a skillet

The last few posts have been filled with sorrow and melancholy.  Okay, lets be real… It has been a rough ass week!

So, talking to Melly last night we started talking about food.  What does a newly single bachelor eat?  I posted a blog entry not too long ago about my food budget.  But seriously, what can I cook?

Back in the married days…. (Remember I had 21 years X 365 = 7665 days…)  I would often grill.  That was my form of cooking.  Truthfully, I grilled maybe once or twice a week!  I was a wizard.  I had a sweet set of tongs (not thongs).  I could cook the best steak, chicken, fish, pork chops, etc…  I could slow smoke a brisket, ribs, or a chicken.  I had more fun messing with new recipes.  My favorite was the Beer-Butt Chicken.  The girls first noticed the Beer-Butt Chicken when they were little bitty carpet rats.  They loved it because they got to say, “butt”.  Then run off getting lost in the carpet and giggle.  T would looks exasperated with me and I wouldn’t run off but would stand there and giggle.

Back to the point…

The state of Texas has as silly law against grilling in apartments.  But what I don’t understand as I drive through my complex is every other patio or porch has a grill on it.  But I have never smelled anything grilling… What gives?

SO here I am in the apartment with my $5.00 red skillet and a tub of Smart Balance fake butter.  I am ready to cook road kill.

I was trying to think of a good list of what I have cooked in the past 6 months I have been living the single lifestyle.

  1. Spaghetti. I buy the jar of regular meat sauce, fresh mushrooms, ground turkey (a habit from T… I may switch to ground beef next time I’m shopping), onions, and spices. I did purchase regular noodles for a dollar. I recognized the noodles T would buy for $3.75. Some sorta wheat thing. YUCK
  2. I can put chicken breasts in the skillet with butter and spices… Then cut it up and put ontop of some egg type noodles. Again, I find the bag of noodles for a dollar. I’ll usually cut up some mushrooms, veggies, etc… Pour some white sauce from a jar. I find it next to the red sauce for spaghetti. Taste like a small touch of heaven.
  3. I have bought and thrown pork chops in the skillet. Those are divine.
  4. I usually go out to eat or am able to score some leftovers from visiting my mom.
  5. If I go out I often get a take home box. Never did this before but heck I’m thinking another dinner can be had!
  6. I have gone to the Mexican restaurant around the corner from my apartment a few nights and sat at the bar and make friends with the bartender and wait staff. They have a smorgasbord of nice televisions mounted all throughout. This is a great place to sit alone, watch a little sports, and eat. I will usually order fajitas for two and bring half home for another meal.

As you can see of my sad pitiful list; I need some help.

I don’t appear to be losing any weight.  I actually gained back a few of the pounds I lost during the separation.  So I feel pretty good.

What do other single guys do?  I am tired of smelling up the apartment and setting off the smoke alarm constantly grilling in a skillet.


Courage is needed.

Feeling poetic this morning.

Two poems that I have learned to love and try to live through…  I felt were important for this day, D-Day…

Kipling has always inspired me when looking on how to live my life.



If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:.
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build’em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

Rudyard Kipling

And the old favorite from Thomas… I woke up chanting this at 5:30 AM this morning.

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on that sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Dylan Thomas



I am moving forward.  I don’t have any other choice.  It is funny how accustomed we get to a way of life.

Friday nights 8 months ago were something to look forward to.  Often times I would stop with buddies after work for a beer at happy hour.  Maybe some potato skins!  I would call T on the phone and say, “Yo, what’s the plan?”  She would often run down the list of what each daughter is doing, what I needed to do for that, which girl I needed to drive somewhere.  She would then make a plan to go somewhere for dinner with me.

It was a given.  No need to really plan anything.  I always had a date.

Move forward until January 9, 2015

I am sitting at my computer desk at 10:28 PM typing this to who knows who.  Both girls stay with me every Friday night.

So, tonight R has a date with her boyfriend.  At the game today, she was fouled really hard by a girl that was playing against us.  This player got upset after one of the steals/tackles and swiped R’s legs from under her by kicking her very hard in the back of the calf.  R went down like she was shot.  R goes down often because she plays like there is no tomorrow but always bounces up usually into an immediate sprint.  This time R didn’t jump back up.  She dragged herself up and limped across the field.  She started waving off coach that she was staying in the game.

R came home with a serious limp.  Her calf is double the size from the swelling as her other one.  She still wanted to go out with her boyfriend.  A large bag of ice was wrapped tight with plastic wrap around her calf as she limped away with boyfriend. The field they played on is old bad astroturf.  R has scrapes down both knees and on the side of one leg.  It is dripping puss and blood.  During the game the referee noticed it bled down into her sock turning the white sock a nice shade of crimson and stopped the game.  I could hear him yell all the way in the stands, “Coach, You need to fix #22!”  She was sent to the bench.  R later told me that all the girls on the bench were just staring at her and watching the blood and puss ooze down.  R snapped at the student trainer to hurry up and fix her leg so she could get back into the game.  The trainer pours Hydrogen Peroxide down both burns and all the bench players are in shock.  R just keeps staring at the game.  Trainer tapes it and R is ready to go throw her body infront of a moving train.   After the game R is walking out of the trainer’s office with ice pack on calf and both knees bandaged.  Two of the JV girls that were invited to go to the tournament with Varsity look at R and say, “You play really hard.”  R said she didn’t know how to respond.. so She just smiled and kept walking.

R scares people.  R intimidates people.  R is the only teenager that I know that does not want friends.  She does not need to be a part of the herd.  Her silence only adds to the mystery.  Her bone crushing style of play only adds to the mystery. Her beauty only adds to the mystery.

She is an amazingly tough kid mysterious kid.

B walks in with ice wrapped around her knee.  She doesn’t seem to be hurting bad.  So we are over the hump.  But we start a movie after cooking dinner and she falls asleep within 30 minutes. Tired little buddy.

Their last game of the tournament is tomorrow at 9:00 AM.

So here I am, living a new style of Friday night.  I love the fact the girls are with me.  I am here for them.  On Saturday night I am alone.  Me and the Wonder dog, Fred, are living the dream.  Do I go out?  Do I find some single friends?  Do I find someone on Match.com?

I was just asking a new friend these same questions in an email.  I have no idea anymore.

The loneliness is a killer.

Forward I move.  I move into the FUTURE…

Let it come what may.

I often think of Eddie Vedder’s song, RISE.  I absolutely fell in love with it when I was watching the movie Into the Wild…. The lyrics fit what I need to do.