Marriage is my life's best and worst decision

For people on mobile phones, here are the labels to speed you around the blog:

Marriage Problems
Marriage Solutions
Single Life Then and Marriage Now

This blog is a warning to those contemplating marriage from a man who has been married since early 2008.

It all started in the beginning of January, 2008, after four months of dating my then-girlfriend-now-wife. I had just returned from a Christmas trip overseas, and a few days went by before she told me her period was late. Being ever the optimist, I just wrote it off as something that women go through every once in a while and dismissed her concerns, telling her it was natural and it sometimes just happened. We were using protection. How could she possibly be pregnant?

Then a few more days went by. A week. Two weeks. Still, no period. I think at that time, I knew I was absolutely screwed, but I still held out the hope that this was just something her body was going through, and that it wasn't the end of everything I had worked so hard to achieve. I'll never forget the day when I heard the news: January 24th, 2008. She wanted definitive confirmation of whether or not she was pregnant, and had taken a birth control test from a local store.

Positive. Then, in a panic, she tried another: positive. She hurriedly called me, frantic that she was going to have a baby with someone she had only known for a few months. I reassured her that it couldn't be true, and even if it was, that I would take care of her. I meant what I said, and my actions since then have certainly proven my honesty. But at the time, I still held out the hope that this was all a mistake, a dream, something, anything but a baby. She told me that that night, she would go to the hospital to make absolutely sure if she was pregnant or not.

I went to work, taught my students, and was on my way home at around 9:00 that night. I was walking my usual way home, when I felt my cellphone begin to buzz in my pocket, indicating an incoming text message.

Everything slowly went dark. Vibrant shops and bustling people turned into colorless blobs and were reduced into obstacles I didn't want to walk into. All of my dreams fled my mind in an instant, and were replaced with defeat and pessimism. A sudden weight bore down upon my shoulders, a feeling which has not left me to this day. How did I know she was pregnant? If she weren't, I reasoned, she would have called me, not texted me. Already knowing the answer, I opened my phone, and read the confirmation of the end of my life.

Being in shock, I don't remember quite what I said to her when I called her back. It was probably something comforting, letting her know I would take care of her and the baby no matter what. I vaguely remember that after I hung up, I wandered home in a daze, showered, then went to bed, hoping that when I woke up, it would all have been a dream.

It wasn't. I woke up the next day feeling as helpless and defeated as I did the night before. Not long after the news came, she pressured me into marrying quickly, because people over here "tend to talk" when a pregnant girl is not married with the man who fathered her child. I obliged, and we were married a month later.

During the time we had gotten the news, but were still living apart, I was trying to live up my life as best I could before I officially lost everything. When she wasn't over at my place, I traveled as much as possible, hung with my friends, spent as much time alone as I could, did everything I knew I wouldn't be able to once we moved in together. But all the while, the stress of everything I had just lost was weighing down on my shoulders, and soon enough, my job contract was up, we moved in together, and my son was born not long after.

I'm going to get into the things I've lost and how miserable my life is in future blog posts. This introductory post shall serve simply to explain my overall situation.

Marriage is the best decision I have ever made for everyone around me. Coming from a family of at least three generations of abandonment, abuse and neglect, I was one of the first to break the cycle and stick around to raise his kids right. Every person in my life has been enriched by my decision:

- My wife has a husband and son, when she thought she would never have either, and I paid off her unpaid back taxes and college debts. I also gave her her own place to live and got her out of her mom's house. She has frequently told me that she is more emotionally mature than before, and much, much happier with her life.
- My mother-in-law has a grandson to dote on, I personally paid off her massive bank debt, and I'm also supporting her, since she's too old to work.
- My sister-in-law has a nephew to dote on, in addition to me, again, paying off some of her debts while she was unemployed for two years.
- My mother has a grandson to dote on.
- My sister has a role model to look up to as a good parent to her own surprise child.
- My son has the father and life I never had growing up, living in a house of fun, love and discipline to grow to be a strong and honorable man.

Sounds like a pretty sweet deal for all involved. Everyone made out like a bandit, right?

No.

Marriage is the worst decision I have ever made for myself. I've had years to sort this out, and I can definitively say that, aside from my son, marriage has provided me nothing I couldn't have gotten anywhere else. More importantly, it has robbed me of nearly everything that made my life worth living, and given me little else than problems in return.

In short, this is what marriage has given me:

- More stress.
- More work.
- More chores.
- More debts.
- More drama.
- A family, which is primarily hard work, routine and sacrifice, with only scattered, isolated moments of happiness and fun.

And this is what marriage has taken from me:

- My money.
- My emotional stability.
- My dreams.
- My free time.
- My freedom.

If you wish to know more of what I have learned and experienced as a married man, at the bottom of this post are three labels:

- For essays or experiences on why marriage will drain and ruin you, especially if you are a man, click "Problems."
- If you already tied the noose and need advice on how to deal with your life and/or awful wife, click "Solutions."
- To compare an unmarried man's life to that of a married man, click "Then and Now."

Next, my policy on commenting: I will not censor comments, positive or negative, provided they contain nothing illegal or threatening, or aren't blatant spam trying to advertise something. On the other hand, I don't expect rational discussion over a topic so enmeshed with tribalism and the biological drive for sex or children, so to save yourself some time, try not to leave comments that marginalize me, or derail the conversation from the points I've brought up. As such, you should avoid:

1. Changing the subject

"You should have known what could happen with a girlfriend."
"I wouldn't want someone like you as a husband."
"Why should I believe someone who was short-sighted enough to smoke cigarettes and get cancer?"
"You'll get no pity from me."
"And yet, life goes on."
"You just married the wrong person."

You can discuss other things on this blog, but if you're trying to sell marriage, acknowledge my major points first.

2. Namecalling and loaded language

"You're a bitter loser."
"Why should I listen to a misogynist?"
"Stop whining."
"Learn to be more mature."
"Wow... this blog is pathetic."

Smearing my character or acting dismissive doesn't change the logic of my statements.

3. Strawman

"More chores doesn't make marriage bad."
"You wrote an entire blog just looking for people to take your side?"
"You should go back to your bar and club girls."
"Why do you want people to abandon their children?"
"Just because you have a bad marriage doesn't mean all marriage is bad."

Please don't stuff words in my mouth (or make baseless and false assumptions), then declare victory over your caricature.

4. Denial

"You're a liar." (Fail to mention how)
"You're wrong." (Fail to mention why)
"Shut up."
"Go away."

Just saying the first two doesn't make them true, and all four variants of the same logical fallacy are only intended to get me to shut down without logically acknowledging my points.

5. Arguing from exception

"I'm happily married, so you're wrong."
"My friend is happily married, so you're wrong."
"Not all women/marriages/etc... are like that."

Finding one, or a small handful, of exceptions to a general rule is intellectually dishonest, because you fail to address the logic or evidence of the rule. The only thing you succeed in doing with this logical fallacy is proving that an exception exists, but unless I use the word "all" to describe marriage or anything else about it, then you are proving nothing.

6. Postmodernism / Relativism

"You do realize that other people like different things than you, right?"
"Am I not allowed to have my own views?"
"Well, that's your opinion."
"Let's agree to disagree."

My logically sound views being different from other people's less convincing ones doesn't make mine unworthy of consideration, and it doesn't equate the two in any way.

The current record, and apparently most popular combination, for intellectual dishonesty is Changing the subject, Namecalling and Strawman, 3/6. I have spoken to less than a dozen people online about marriage, but this same exact combination actually happened in no less than four different places from four completely different people, showing the prevalence of this kind of refutation. Basically, ignore the message, then attack a caricature of the messenger in an effort to smear him. I would appreciate it if you were not like these people, or the dozens of others who mix and match the above methods to champion marriage with few to no convincing points whatsoever.

Finally, I want to thank all the well wishes and posts of concern about my current status, which is quite different from what this top post introduced (i.e. my life leading up to 2012). If you don't wish to poke around my blog to find the important posts that led to me changing my life, this is the most important:

2012-2013 Marriage Review

My history with women

Another month of nothing has gone by, but at the risk of sounding like a broken record, that's marriage. My wife has been submissive in every possible way as I act like the tough man she's always wanted me to be, and I've noticed many changes in her behavior compared to five years ago. On her own, she's texted me thank you texts at least ten times for being an excellent father or husband in the last month. She's ready to sleep together on command and hasn't refused me for non-medical reasons for the last six or twelve months (it's actually on so much that I think we're outpacing ourselves when we were still dating). She bought a book about minimalism on her own last week and started sharing how she's not only limited her purchases over the past year or two, but also how she's ready for us to travel the world with nothing more than backpacks full of supplies in eleven years. She's even asked my permission to sell an extra cheap purse that she bought online. She is eager to prove herself at all times to me and is constantly seeking my approval and confirmation, and she gets it, with added instructions on what I expect from her next.

And no, I still don't recommend that you get married, not if you have things you want to accomplish in this world. I'm still forbidden from sleeping with women who are clearly interested in me and about fifteen years younger than my wife, and I still can't travel the world for another decade, when I will have waited a grand total of about 20 years before I can hit the road again. My son is the best product of this marriage, but those of you who live in a western country don't even have legal rights to your children as long as your hypothetical wife can pull the plug at any time for any reason, and take your kid away a literal 90% of the time these things go to court.

So same old, same old.

If human beings were capable of introspection, logical thinking and the diligence necessary to eliminate personal problems as they arose, I might be taking my wisdom from website to website and trying to save as many men as possible. But most people have zero interest in these truths, and every response I get will almost certainly be from the logical fallacies I mentioned in the top post:

"Wow, just wow. Are you kidding me? (NAMECALLING) I can't believe you think all women are slutty manhaters (CHANGE THE SUBJECT, STRAWMAN) who have nothing better to do than conspire (STRAWMAN) against micropenis (NAMECALLING) losers (NAMECALLING) like you. Everything you've just said is literally just your own opinion, (RELATIVISM) and doesn't apply to every woman everywhere (STRAWMAN, ARGUMENT FROM EXCEPTION). I've been married for twenty years and I've never acted like your wife has (ARGUMENT FROM EXCEPTION). Just because you have a bad marriage (STRAWMAN) doesn't mean all marriage is bad (STRAWMAN, ARGUMENT FROM EXCEPTION). Go back to your mom's basement (DENIAL, NAMECALLING) and get some therapy (DENIAL, NAMECALLING) for your obvious mental issues (NAMECALLING)."

I've beaten my head against this brick wall enough times to get nothing more than a splitting headache and a big purple welt while some variation of the above comment is my only response. I've tried to save men from themselves by encouraging them to not get married or lose their power in a one-sided relationship only to see them do it anyway, including friends and family, time and again. The moment I realized I was no longer responsible for the behavior of others because they would never listen to me (about two years ago), and the moment I stopped feeling guilty for holding this knowledge to myself and only providing it to my son, who actually listens to me, was a moment of great release for me.

I am not the Pied Piper. I am not a catcher in the rye. I am not my fellow man's keeper. I am a protector of secrets, the holder of the Dead Sea Scrolls, the spirit that protects a treasure trove of knowledge on how to deal with women. I catalog the wisdom of men far wiser, more intelligent and more experienced that I ever will be, and season my own experiences throughout to prove the efficacy of these masters' teachings. What I don't do is set out to gain converts from a populace of illogical, self-destructive westerners who would cling white-knuckled to their pretty lies while the women in their lives utterly destroy them in every possible way. And if I have written well, if I have provided keen insight to you who read this, know that it is because I have stood on the shoulders of giants.

So with nothing much to mention about my marriage, as boring as it is, I thought I'd write another post on how to deal with women, using my past self and my dealings with trying to find or keep a girlfriend. I apologize for not having much else to say about marriage for the time being, but there are about a hundred posts in the archives of why you should not get married, and if it's any consolation (I know it is to me), but the less I write about the pain of marriage, the more it shows that my life as a married man is more gruel, less torture.

Now on to the point of this post. When I used to watch YouTube movies and keep in contact with western culture over six months ago (and leaving the west's degeneracy completely behind has done wonders for the peace in my life), I used to watch MGTOW and red pill related stuff all the time to gather information. One of those kinds of videos was response videos to woman worshipers attempting to give men advice on how to meet girls for a relationship, and I couldn't believe how backwards the information these advisors would give. Literally every time I ever tried any of the worshipers advice on communication, romantic gestures, equality, honesty and respect in my youth, it blew up in my face.

So as a public service, I'm here to share my romantic history, with special attention paid to the mistakes I made dealing with our double-X friends for the benefit of any men who find this blog. So have a seat on ol' Uncle John's lap and let me share with you the shame of my sexual past, so you can make sure not to follow in the moronic footsteps of the woman worshiper I used to be.

1. Kelly

Before I get into Kelly, I'd like to share a story. I was 16 or 17 and really getting into the thick of my depression when a friend of mine loaned me Final Fantasy 8, a game from the late 1990s about an emotionally distant, teenage mercenary (Squall) who meets a girl (Rinoa) that throws his entire ordered life for a loop. Through the course of the game, she slowly falls in love with him due to his strength and leadership skills, and especially after he promises to protect her after saving her life. On the other hand, he only realizes and accepts her love when she falls into a coma after a decisive battle later on. Risking everything to cure her, Squall slowly begins to open up and accept the help of his friends to bring Rinoa back to consciousness, and promises to stand with her, even against an entire world that would see her as an enemy. After the last battle, Squall finally calls out to his friends and his love to save him when he ends up all alone, and in the end, Rinoa is finally able to find and rescue him. In the final scene, Squall shares both his first smile, and first kiss, with Rinoa on the balcony near the place they first met.

This game affected me deeply when I played it in the midst of my depression. It was a simple and fun game without too much strategy and involved a lot of collecting, but those setpieces, the music, the scenes that displayed pieces of my teenage life in a fantastical way led me to seeing a lot of myself in Squall. We were both abandoned at a young age, we both developed walls to keep others out, we were both moody and obsessed with getting better (physically for him, academically for me), the only real difference between us was that he was highly respected for his strength and became a strong leader who did everything to remain out of the debt of others, while I was a largely ignored part of any group of friends I was with and relied too heavily on people to support me financially and with my life goals. Nonetheless, the game hit me right in the heart, and from the moment I finished it, I wondered if my own Rinoa was out there. Although this goal of mine eventually led me to the path of healing and it will always remain my favorite game of all time (I just finished playing it again last month), in truth, I had gotten the message of the game wrong, and I wouldn't know it until that fateful day in Then and Now 17 when I truly understood what it was trying to teach.

Final Fantasy 8 wasn't teaching me that through love and sex, I would solve all of my problems. The moral was quite the opposite: once you've dealt with your problems, you will find happiness that enriches your life. This is made quite evident in the actions of both Squall, and his adopted sister Ellone, who was taken from him at a young age. Each of them deals with their problems in the completely wrong way and suffers for it: Squall forgets his past through the use of his powers and is unconsciously antisocial to avoid being hurt by others again, while Ellone repeatedly uses her own power to return to the past as an observer in a vain attempt to change history and the mistakes made there. The message is clear: the past must be remembered and learned from, not forgotten or relived, and only then will you find peace (Squall through Rinoa, Ellone through their mutual father Laguna). But I was just a teenager, so I got the message wrong for four years, and that was the beginning of my search for a girlfriend. So with this bit of nerding out finished, on we go to Kelly.

I had three classes together with her from junior year: Communications, Math and Art History. During the first, I hardly noticed her or knew who she was because we seldom talked. Sometime after that but before we had the latter two classes together, I played FF8 and was affected heavily by it. Then one day, I was walking into the school library when I saw Kelly about twenty feet away. She turned to me, smiled and waved, then walked off to find her book.

It was almost the exact same scene where Squall and Rinoa first met at his graduation party. Kelly even kind of looked like her. At that moment, I was struck with a sudden sense of fright, courage, dizziness, attraction and weakness, a feeling that any man in lust could tell you all about. I decided at that moment to ask her out.

I remember that Valentine's Day well. It was raining as I walked to the florist that was about ten blocks off campus, and I used several days' paltry lunch money to buy a single white rose, the color of innocence. As lunch ended, I went to Art History class and secretly held it in my lap for the whole hour, shaking like a leaf.

When class ended, I met Kelly outside and gave her the rose, asking her to go out with me. She agreed... and I had never been so happy in my life. I told her I would make a plan, then I went home on cloud nine.

The next day, she was super quiet in Math class and only smiled a little when she first saw me. I didn't say anything to her, and when class ended, she left without a word. Lunch eventually came and went, and during Art History it was the same thing: quiet and ignoring me, then leaving the class without a word.

I followed her outside and could tell from her body language that something was wrong. "You don't have to go out with me if you don't want to," I said. "I want you to feel comfortable." She suddenly brightened and said it would be better if we remained friends. I didn't eat or sleep for the next few days, and my depression got even worse as I saw my "destiny" taken away from me and replaced with the same heavy unhappiness that had been my life since my depression started at 14.

What I did wrong

Where to start? My hair was too long. I didn't shave once in my life up to that point. I wore T-shirts, shorts and sandals no matter the weather. Despite all this, she was still willing to give me a chance, at which point I should have had a plan for what we would do for our date. I should have had some kind of vehicle, especially a motorcycle, if I weren't such a craven coward to get behind a wheel or handlebars by that point. I didn't change seats to sit next to her during Math class and start laying it on thick ("You ever been on a motorcycle before?" "You ready for tonight? I'll handle everything, just dress nice and have fun.") I self sabotaged by giving her an out after Art History class. The romantic gesture seemed to work in the beginning, but everything else was a disaster. I was nice and communicated well in the beginning and always showed her respect, but in the end, it was fruitless. Should I have communicated more like western advice says? Maybe, but keep reading.

2. Nancy

She was my TA in college, and older than me by about eight years. I bought her a pot of flowers (thinking if one rose wouldn't do it, a bunch of little flowers would), and brought it to her at the library on the pretext that I wanted to redo a quiz, and she pulled me to the side in anger and read me the riot act for five minutes on how inappropriate it was to ask her out. After that earful, she asked if I wanted her to keep the flowers, and I said she didn't have to. I took them outside, dumped them in the trash, and went home to cry.

What I did wrong

I shouldn't have asked out my TA. I shouldn't have been keeping that ridiculous look that I still had from college, but at least I cleaned up after this stupidity. If I really thought I had a chance, I should have worn something to display my status as a strong man, like a leather jacket with a motorcycle helmet under my arm, or beefy muscles. At the very least, I doubt she would have rejected me as angrily as she did.

3. Sara

I met Sara in one of my classes, and she was a kind, funny and smart girl. After class, she and I would go to the library to study together, or I would take her to the computer lab to show her funny animations on the internet. When she had problems with her parents or related stories like how her uncle and aunt stayed together without love for the sake of their children, I listened patiently and gave her advice. I stayed positive and shared my interests with her, and after she shared her personal website with me, I went there to post messages to her and talk with her friends (every one of whom was a man waiting for their chance to date her, as I was).

One day, while she was driving me back to my dorm, I asked her out on a date. She said ok, and I made some plans for dinner for the next night. When we got to my apartment, she wasn't smiling as much as she was before, and drove off without much of a word. I got on my email, confused, and messaged her: "You don't have to go out with me if you don't want to," I said. "I want you to feel comfortable." She replied back in a few hours, saying we should just be friends. I shut down for the next few days in sadness.

What I did wrong

This is where I was finally taking the advice of the woman worshipers step by step and word for word, doing everything they told me to do. I spent time with her, I shared my interests, I listened to her problems and offered advice, I waited until we were closer before I made my move, and I was kind to her the entire time. And yet, she still said no.

Let's move past the self-sabotage at the end, which was the last time I did that with any woman. This girl never thought of me as anything more than one of her chick friends. I studied with her, listened to her troubles and laughed with her, but those are the hallmarks of thirsty and effeminate losers who don't have the confidence to dominate the girl they're interested in with charm, strength and guidance.

Kelly might have been possible and I might have even been able to sleep with her before we graduated if I weren't a loser. Nancy was a no-go. But I am absolutely sure that if I hadn't listened to the stupidity of woman worshipers about respecting women's space and seeing her as my equal and friend, rather than showing her my strength and guiding her to fun and excitement, that Sara would have been my first.

My clothes were cleaner, but I needed muscle when I entered college. I should have been pumping iron from the moment I entered to have some decent bulk before I took that particular class with her. I should have gotten a license by that point, rather than allowing the girl I wanted to get with to drive me home like she was my mother. I should never have shared my interests with her and instead focused on hers with orders and power, hardly smiling all the while. "You like art? (Direct and to the point) Show me something you made. (Commanding interest)"

I met her a year later by chance. She was dating a new guy who had a permanent scowl on his face and who, I later learned from her, chose his job over her. He told her to wait for him for two years before he came back from working abroad, and she did.

Respect, friendliness and communication accomplished nothing with this girl. But it gets worse.

4. Leena

Yes, that Leena. I first met her because she was the friend of my apartmentmate downstairs. I hardly talked to her when she came by, and though I thought she was cute, I didn't really pursue anything. I don't remember exactly what changed that, but I do remember that she joined the church that she eventually got me into, and after she had dealt with her personal problems and found a good path in life, she suddenly seemed to shine more the next time I saw her. Eventually, we struck up a friendship and started emailing back and forth.

She and I talked over cafeteria food once or twice, and as I got to know her spiritual side, I fell more and more deeply for her. Leena, unlike Kelly and Sara, was the first girl I ever truly loved, both inside and out.

I remember going on a big long drive with her as she took me from place to place around her hometown, showing me a lot of her favorite shops and places she had lived before, and when we came back to my dorm, I was shining more brightly than ever before. Every one of my roommates was laughing at the glow I had around me from being with this kind and fun girl. Later on, Leena and I took another drive around until we came to a restaurant where she had to pick something up from a friend of hers. A waiter there gave her his number before she left, and when she got back to the car, she told me that it was very strange, and that she had no intention of going out with him.

In truth, though, this was the car ride where I had planned to make my move. I was sure that the waiter's number giving was going to affect my chances somehow, but I didn't want to wait any longer like I had with Sara, so I asked Leena out in front of my house. To her credit, she refused directly. I was so used to rejection by this point that I let it slide. I was deflated for a few days, then began my search for another girl soon after.

What I did wrong

Leena and I most certainly would have ended up together if I hadn't listened to the fools who dole out wrongheaded advice on how to handle women, but where to begin? There were so many mistakes.

First of all, I shouldn't have waited until she went to church to notice how cute she was. She used to be a girl who felt in the shadow of her happy sister and had no goal in life, but if I had swooped in at the first moment I met her by noticing her diamond in the rough situation, I could have been the guide that she needed to live a fulfilling life. Instead, she was far beyond me both before, and especially after, her religion had improved her.

She drove me around, just like Sara. You never, never, NEVER let a woman you're interested in drive you places unless you just got into a fistfight and don't have the power to hold the wheel. Letting a woman drive you around is proof that she wears the pants in whatever relationship you have with her, and her dwindling sexual interest will reflect that.

If I had driven her to the restaurant to pick up her stuff, I should have laughed at the waiter who gave her his number, then immediately made my own move. "He gave you his number? Ha! That's great. But you'd do much better with a guy like me." (She giggles, then I return a cocky smile) "I'm serious, babe. I'll pick you up tomorrow at 8, and I'm bringing my bike, so don't wear white." (Bark a confident laugh) "I'll show you I can beat a waiter." Instead, I waited until the end of the trip and asked mommy for a night out.

What did all that kindness, spiritual sharing, communication, humor and respect get me in the end? A one way ticket to the friend zone.

5. Crystal

I met her in class shortly after Leena's rejection, and I had no idea how damaged she was when I first met her. All I thought was that she was a cute and somewhat sarcastic friend who made our lessons even more fun. I didn't really even fall for her during the months we studied together, but at the end of class, I just decided to give her my email address anyway. She smiled a bright smile and joked, "Is this how you ask for someone's number in the 21st century?" I laughed and said yeah.

We got together once or twice to eat as friends, where I was kind and friendly, communicated well, showed her respect, and listened as she described her troubles with her overbearing, possibly abusive father. I showed her concern and gave her advice on what to do, and after a while, began to feel like I wanted to be with this girl so we could both help each other: I would be the one to help her overcome her troubles, and she would help me to be the man I always wanted to be.

I set up a date and she agreed to go, and for the first time, a girl I asked out went with me. We ate dinner and talked, then I took her on a moonlight walk around the park, holding her hand. She didn't squeeze back the entire time, forcing me to hold hands with a straight, deadfish hand from an unwilling girl. I was confused, because things were going so well between us before the date was planned, and I did everything society said I should by being understanding and helpful.

The date was officially over when her father called her cell in the middle of our walk and yelled at her, then when he was done, we talked about it, then I took her home.

But we weren't done. She told me she wanted to be friends by email, and though I stayed away from her for a few months, eventually we both ended up heading to a party together. She told me there about her adventures smoking pot and getting drunk all the time, and seemed to be way more interested in talking to other guys than me, no matter how nice or patient I was in listening to her stories. I watched over her as she got drunker and drunker, until one of her friends noticed and said to her, "John's been like a guardian angel taking care of you this whole time! What a great guy! You should give him a kiss as a thank you... on the cheek, at least."

Without missing a beat, she chuckled, then proclaimed, "I'm not that drunk."

I went home soon after, feeling the absolute pain of the drunken barb, and we didn't talk for a day or two, until I got an email from her saying how sad she was about her life. I decided to confess my love to her by going outside her apartment complex and calling her house phone on my cell, and one of her roommates picked up and said she wasn't there. I knew it was a lie, so I said, "I'll be waiting outside if she needs me." After hanging up, I stayed outside, lying on the grass on my side, waiting for my cell to ring and for her to rush into my arms, but she never did.

Hours later and in the darkness, a security guard surprised me, kicking me in the shoe and telling me to get lost. I moved to another location and lay down there, until a man in a car drove by and gave me his jacket, afraid that I was dying from the cold. At that point, I knew I was acting like a complete fool and went home.

What I did wrong

Notice how Crystal liked me in the beginning. It wasn't because I respected her or communicated well; it's because I IGNORED her. I wasn't interested in her for months, and during this time, I was doing well in class and focused more on a core group of friends who had each other's support as we studied to pull in those high grades. It was only when I started showing interest in Crystal that she started to pull away.

When she started bringing up those personal issues, I started in with the nice guy support thing that dries up the affections of any woman. If I had had my head screwed on straight, I would have ordered her to do something to change her life then moved on to something else. "Stop answering the phone for your f***head of a father." (Pause) "Great, now I'm pissed off." (The ambiguity of this sentence, whether I was angry at her or her father, would get her extremely interested in me) "Get your jacket, we're going out to dinner." I seriously doubt her father was doing anything other than trying to get his daughter to stop self-destructing, but salvaging this date would have required taking his position as the new authority in her life.

I should have done more physical stuff while we were out, like shooting, rock climbing or just motorcycle riding, anything but a lame walk through the moonlight with an obviously messed in the head girl. And when her father called, there should have only been two words: "Hang up." Or, if I felt the desire, "Give me the phone," followed by reaming him out. This would have been a negative move for her family and her and I'm glad I didn't choose this route, but with a girl like Crystal, this was the option to start seriously dating her. I hope I've been clear that the troubles I had with this girl had progressed too far by this point, and an ideal fix to her sudden loss of interest in me should have taken place long before this point.

Communication, respect and understanding got her to lose respect for me, and lost me a chance with this girl (and though I have no doubt that I would be able to guide her to a better life with the personal power I've cultivated now, this failure was probably for the best), while condescension, order giving and cockiness would have had her beholden to me.

The drunken party request was equally pathetic, and I should have either joined in the drinking and gotten up into her business with brash confidence, or looked at her with condescension while she was sloppy drunk and bailed, making it clear that her behavior was disgusting to me. If she truly liked me, she would have chased me outside where I could tell her exactly what I expected from a woman, and the loser she was was not it. Then she'd either move to change or go back to the party, and either way, I would have lost a poisonous influence in my life.

A few years later I met her again and by that time had finished my transformation into the motorcycle riding, muscled bad boy, and I took her to lunch and half-talked half-ignored her because I had no interest in her. She couldn't stop looking at me and asking questions. Yet more proof that power, confidence and danger are what excite women, not communication, respect and comfort.

6. Leena 2

Yep, back to Leena I went. She hadn't originally given me a reason for turning me down, so I thought there would be a possibility we could still get together. I did what I could to improve my fashion and charisma, and after several friendly lunches where we talked about life and shared our personal experiences, I asked her out several times over different meals. The first few times she was vague and told me that she wasn't ready, or that she was a bit busy, or that she was waiting for life to settle down. The final time I asked her out, I straight out asked her if she wasn't interested in a relationship, or not interested in me.

"Both," she answered. With that, I completely gave up on her and made no further moves until I came abroad. Two months later, she was dating a guy who ordered her around and called her peasant trash, and she gave her virginity to him before he dumped her.

What I did wrong

It should be clear by now. You don't make friends with girls you want to sleep with. You don't communicate with them like equals. You don't come to understandings or show respect. You develop personal power to attract them, tell them how it is, then be a commanding force in their lives to hitch themselves to. I had already blown it big time with Leena in my first clumsy attempts, and the only way I would have been able to salvage it is if I had my motorcycle then, and if I blew her off multiple times to go out with other women, real or fake, to make her respect the man that I clearly wasn't.

7. Andrea

I met her online in a depression and suicide forum and she lived a thousand miles away. I supported her through email and listened to her problems. I asked if I could fly up and meet her. She stopped talking to me. I was an idiot.

What I did wrong

This was the last dreg I tried to save from herself. I suppose if I wanted to get with her, I should have sent her a muscled picture of myself next to a nice car or bike, and been less supportive and more commanding/leading while I messaged her. But I didn't. I got news that she killed herself a year later.

8. Emily

I was invited to a party by some of my tutor students, and she was one of the girls there. I talked with her in the main party area for a while in a friendly manner, shared my interests and got to know her and her country a little better. I showed her my skill in her language, tried to be funny, and talked about her and my dreams for life. She gave me one word answers to everything and feigned interest, and when the party petered out I didn't even bother asking her for her number, because I had seen those telltale signs of a disinterested girl many times before, and wasn't interested in getting rejected for the twentieth or thirtieth time.

What I did wrong

I didn't have muscles. I didn't have her get me drinks or anything. I simply talked with her like an equal and respected her space, and women hate that.

9. Georgia

We met at my tutoring job as language partners. I spent time around campus with her and tried to get to know her, and she showed absolutely zero interest in my communication, friendliness or respect. She also mentioned that she was in love with a local tattooed guitar player who had rejected her multiple times. I didn't bother attracting her inevitable rejection by asking her out.

What I did wrong

Clear enough yet? Respect and communication do nothing, power is everything. A disinterested and flaky musician will always trump the complete attention of a nice and communicative woman worshiper, no matter how many other women Georgia had to share a tough guy like him with.

So by this point of my life, nearly 4 years had passed since I finished FF8, saw Kelly in the library and began my quest to find the woman who would fix me, and Georgia was the last straw. I was confused, broken, unhappy... a complete failure, nowhere near the man I wanted to be, and no closer to love than I had ever been in the first place. And that's when Then and Now 17 happened and Leena sent me on the way to becoming a better man.

Three months later, I had muscles, a motorcycle, and my first girlfriend. And here is where this post starts to show the see-saw of silliness regarding my inability to understand what women truly want, and me putting these ideas into poor or accidental practice to get varied and confusing results, until I finally learned the truth about women.

10. Ina

Georgia introduced me to Ina, and we first met at the cafeteria I worked as a server and cook. I sat with legs spread around a chair facing backwards, looking cocky as all hell, but all completely by accident. I set up a time for us to eat dinner, then we saw a movie or two over the following weeks where we talked and hung out like friends. I was also taking Argentinian Tango lessons and had her dance with me in my apartment, then shortly after, I got my first motorcycle and learner's permit, finished my biking classes and took her for a drive around my parking lot, then a few days later, down to the beach at night.

Under the moonlight and next to the ocean, I kissed her, and she smiled. She tried to politely reject me by saying she was too old for me (she was eight years older than me at 29, but she looked, acted and sounded like she was 23), but I told her not to worry about it and we began our relationship right there. I drove her home, kissed her again, then went home to sleep on cloud nine.

Things were passionate and great for a few months as we escalated bit by bit, fooling around in my apartment while my roommates were out, until just a few months later when we slept together on Valentine's Day. She was my first.

As our relationship continued, I started doing what I was taught from society regarding women. When we went to lunch and had finished with the tray and trash, she was super scared when I moved to take care of the garbage because she wanted to be the one to do it. I told her that I would take care of it, and she could just relax.

When we moved in together, I started training her to treat me like an equal. For example, I taught her to tell me to be quiet when I said something goofy by mimicking her voice and cutely saying, "Shut up" whenever I said silly things, until she started doing it herself.

Over the next few weeks and after this unconscious training, she started refusing sex for stupid reasons. Then she started to berate me. We had our first fight when she asked me to mail some letters, I said I would do it later, she yelled at me, then I apologized like a beaten dog and took care of it.

The sex refusals spread out until we only got together every two or three weeks. Her rudeness increased more and more. I kept apologizing and vowing to do more as I was taught, and her behavior got worse.

She moved back to her home country and I followed her to be with her, and though I tried, I couldn't find a job. She berated me and talked down to me, and when I explained myself, she only improved her behavior for a short while before it was back to the usual.

I came home and stayed in touch over the phone with her until she came back to America to visit me, where she seemed to be much more interested in talking to my best friend and teasing me in front of him than she was in talking to me. She did the same thing with my family.

When she went home, I broke up with her on the phone, and we never saw each other again.

What I did wrong

At first, my confidence led Ina to looking up to me, respecting me and soon, joining me in the bedroom. The moment things began to slide downhill was the moment I started to take on aspects of the browbeaten TV husbands, and my own four fathers.

I should have let her clean up after we finished eating, and not said thanks at all. "Good" would have been enough before I directed her to go somewhere else with me.

She never would have started disrespecting me if I had never given her license to jokingly tell me to shut up, and she would have known that her place was to the side and below me.

I never should have put up with any of the fights she started and instead either come back at her twice as hard or just left the house, followed by being extremely vague about the people I was hanging out with while I was out. Either way, following up the fight shutdown with an order or two would have solidified my place back as the leader of the relationship.

Instead, I abdicated my power to her, and showed her the respect of an equal. I communicated my unhappiness with our lack of a sex life very clearly. I showed her respect when she had troubles with me by making changes. I did everything society told me I should do with an unhappy woman, and it just made things worse: the sex became more infrequent, the demands and insults got worse, and she was even showing more interest in my best friend than me.

If I had awakened to the nature of women and the lies of society before I started dating Ina, we would be married with kids now (we even had their names picked out), no doubt about it, though marriage would have brought about its own life draining problems as I've explained on this blog.

At this point, I was back in America and working with female co-workers at a hi-tech gadget store and full of anger for the ways I had been neglected and abandoned in my life, and this stage would continue for the next two years. I was yelling at bad customers and disrespectful kids and stomping around like a complete a**hole. Soon, both of my female co-workers discussed highly sexual stories with me, and one of them even offered me a blowjob in the back while she was on the phone with a guy she knew, but I played it off as a joke because she was kind of a skank and I didn't want to catch anything.

Later, I was in the city getting my passport and visa done to go abroad, and some random girl walked up to me and saw my helmet and leather jacket for my motorcycle, and despite my grunting, kinda rude replies to her questions about my bike, she still shyly and apologetically begged to give me her number and for me to give her a ride.

Where was my communication and respect here? Where was the equality and kindness? I showed none of these things to these girls, the complete OPPOSITE in fact, and yet at least two of them were ready to jump my bones, more than any girl I had EVER treated with respect before.

11. Nara

I actually met Nara right before I got together with Ina at a bus stop on my college campus. I didn't want to take the bus, but because she was a pretty cute looking girl and I saw her reading Douglas Adams, whose work I had read, I struck up a conversation with her. She was funny, smart and interesting, and we talked for a while before her bus came while I pretended to be waiting for a friend. Before she went, she gave me her email address and DeviantArt profile, and I recommended Terry Pratchett's Discworld series to her, since I assumed she was a fan of British humor.

I talked on and off with her, hoping for something to spark up, but nothing really came out of it. But by the time I was dating Ina, she finally got back into full contact with me like she wanted to get closer, but it was too late.

After Ina and I broke up, I got back into contact with her on a lark. I had finished my job at the gadget store and was gearing up to head abroad so I wasn't going to let anything stand in the way of my dreams by getting involved with her, but we went out together along with her hugely overweight friend. We all went shopping together and mallratted for a while, then when we left the ice cream store, I took Nara on my bike and zoomed around the parking lot to find her car. At home, I checked her overweight friend's Myspace page for fun, and it was filled with the depressed posts of a jaded, unloved woman, where she blamed her being the wrong race for the reason she wasn't getting any romantic gestures. For someone to be so blind to the revolting state of her own body was a sight to see.

Later, I took Nara to see X-Men - Last Stand and spent more time watching the movie than talking to her. Finally, when it was just about time to go abroad, I emailed her and joked that I had a crush on her, and that if I weren't going abroad I would "be all over her." "Totally mutual," is what she replied, and directly stated that while the motorcycle was a part of it, mostly that I was charming and cool.

What I did right

She had little to say to me when I was sharing her interests and commenting on her art, showing her kindness in the initial stages. Then later a crush on me? This for a guy who was more cocky than friendly? This for a guy who didn't communicate much? This for a guy who pulled her around the mall like a kidnapper? Where was the adoration and love for a kind, communicative, respectful man that western media constantly puts forward? I did exactly the opposite of what I was taught, and received this girl's lustful eyes more than my attempts to respect ever did before.

I found Nara on Facebook about seven years after I left America, and I found that not only did she become a huge Terry Pratchett fan, but she married a guy who looked like me. Perhaps it was coincidence and perhaps not, but one things is clear to me: western ideas about chasing women are completely backwards.

With enough money to move to this country, so began new experiences with women... with the exact same results.

12. May

What I did right

I wasn't terribly interested in May, though she was kind of cute, and by the time I had the opportunity to possibly heat things up at her apartment, I was already dating my wife. As I mention in the Then and Now, she was a bit hard to warm up, but as I kept up my confidence she liked me more and more... especially after I handled the angry foreigner.

She emailed me quite a bit, set up a lot of meetings and even let me sleep over at her apartment (platonically), because she recognized the power in my character, and because she was attracted to my aloofness in that I spent much more time looking at sites than I did at her.

Communication, respect and equality had nothing to do with May liking me. It was my goal driven attitude and personal strength.

13. Tina

What I did right

Tina was the same as May: I wasn't super interested, I spent more of my time looking at food or buildings than her, and she rewarded my behavior with lavish affection and apologies for not speaking more.

14. Sammi

What I did wrong

Good lord did I botch this one. Sammi was a hot one as I mentioned, and my behavior in keeping in contact with her by communicating every day or so through text or calls, my kindness when we first started holding hands, and my respect for her decision to not move so fast led immediately to her flagrant disrespect, communication shutdowns and overall distance from me. I did exactly as society told me: to keep in contact, to respect her wishes and to be nice, and the result was the exact same thing as it was back in America: utter failure.

15. Olivia

What I did right

Even in my thirstiest days, I had two major standards for women: no fatties, and no b*****s. Olivia was the former, and because I was so put off by her appearance, I looked away from her twice as much as either May or Tina. For that, she loved me twice as hard. I didn't communicate well with her at all, so I guess you could say I was disrespectful by focusing more on trees than my conversation partner, and though I was kind to ask her questions about herself and buy her lunch, I still ended up in the exact OPPOSITE place that society told me I would be. My actions should have caused Olivia to bail and find someone nicer, but instead, she chased me even harder.

16. Nell

What I did right

In hindsight, Nell was an excellent match for me. Thin, cute, loved to smile and grounded through her religion, but I didn't consider her a possibility because I thought her religion would require me to join if I wanted to get with her. The irony is that I'm more spiritual now (but not religious), and this girl was chasing me throughout our entire time together because I unconsciously kept her at a distance due to her religion.

She chased me not because I was a nice guy, not because I communicated well, not because I was respectful, she chased me because I had the attitude of a high status guy who valued his mission of travel more than her.

17. Mary and Isis

What I did right

I had zero interest in club girls or lushes, especially after my experience with Crystal, and Mary and Isis' hard attention on me during the club dancing and after our drinks was palpable. I hardly talked with either one of them, and instead encouraged them to talk about themselves while I gave them half-hearted or teasing answers to what they shared. I danced alone and away from them. I praised their country, and not them. I did everything but what society encouraged me to do to earn a woman's respect, and got exactly what society insisted they wouldn't give me: their adoration. I would have had more experiences with them if, as I mentioned, I didn't lose the email account I used to talk with them.

18. Piper

What I did wrong

She had the look I was into, she was cute and shy, and she had a killer body. I chased her with kindness and respect, communicated with her about her dreams in life, kept in contact with her afterwards, and got nothing more from her than long delays between emails and disinterested replies every time I spoke with her. When my email account went down, I lost contact with her, but nothing would have come of it anyway, counter to what western culture taught me.

19. My wife

What I did right and wrong

You know all about what I did right and wrong with her if you've been around this blog. She adored me in the beginning as I kind of ignored her, treated me like garbage when I submitted to her, and now treats me like a king since I know what makes her and woman in general tick. If you want to take a look again, the Problems posts detail the strife, and the Solutions posts detail what I did to fix everything. And again, it is ALL counter to western culture's logic regarding women and respect.

And that's it. Literally EVERY time I've done what western culture told me to do, I've been rejected, friend zoned or had a girl who was interested in me or dating me suddenly pull away and reject me. Literally EVERY time I've done the exact opposite of what western culture says and been a commanding, cocky, power flaunting semi-brute, women have fallen for me. I take anecdotal evidence from people with a grain of salt, but I would say that nineteen examples of what I share on this blog all going nearly EXACTLY as predicted by the model of women being power obsessed should be rather convincing. This is especially considering that there were some girls in my life (Ina, Crystal, my wife) that I've gotten multiple rank up and rank down responses from as I've increased or decreased the power I've flaunted. This post also doesn't include the myriad of women I've met only for a few brief minutes or hours who, without fail, all acted exactly in accordance with that basic truth: women submit to and love power and powerful men, and they ignore, despise or even abuse weak men. Far from the nineteen examples here, there have been around fifty individual cases of women responding to power exactly as I now predict.

I look back on my time with girls when I was younger in shame for all the wasted time and idiocy. I was blinded by a woman worshiping culture that has no clue as to biological realities, and I made mistake after mistake with them until I finally found the truth from men far better than me.

My son will hear these truths. He may ignore me as well, but with the loving strength I have over him as his father, at least there is a better chance that he will avoid my mistakes. Perhaps he won't listen, but maybe after he tries the western culture approved tradition of gift bearing, communication, kindness and respect to no avail, my words will come back to him.

What I don't look back on with regret, however, is on any of the women that might have proven better girlfriends or wives than my current one. Specifically, Sara, Leena, Ina, Nell or Piper would have made for an excellent partner, probably better than my wife, but I don't regret not being with any of them. Why?

Because women are interchangeable. Every one I've ever known has been an empty cup, filled with the water of their family, culture and lover, most especially whichever one is the most powerful. If you saw me and my wife today and compared her to the woman she was before she met me, you wouldn't recognize this mini-me who has every part of my personality (minimalist, frugal, spiritual, nerdy interests, self-controlled, etc...). Had I the same personal power when I was 17 as I do today, there is no doubt that I could make even a girl like Andrea into a halfway decent partner.

So that's it. I hope you learned something from my occasional, accidental displays of power before I finally found the truth of women, and don't follow too deeply into the mistakes I have made. At the very least, I hope you understand what you're getting into when you start dating a woman, and especially if you marry her. And if you choose the latter, for God's sake don't do it in a place that's hostile to men. If my wife and I lived in America and I was acting the same way that I do now to keep her in line, even I don't know if I could hold her there while culture and her harpy friends whispered in her ear to blow up her family, and follow the hedonistic and hollow lives that they had taken up to destroy their own futures.

Then and Now Final

For the past two and a half years, I have written down every single experience that I can remember from my single time abroad, and I hope that I not only was able to entertain, and not only able to inform about the differences between single and married life, but that I was able to convince at least one man out there to not get married.

Since I was 21 and started the path to manhood, I've reflected a lot on my life, analyzing everything I've done wrong to avoid doing the same in the future, and everything I've done right to repeat those actions for myself and others; the unexamined life is not worth living, after all. Sometimes, when I was reflecting on a previous stage in my life (from college on high school, for example), I would strangely look back on a miserable period of my life with a sense of nostalgia and fondness, and miss what I had left behind. But through careful analysis, I have come to the conclusion that there wasn't really a single period of my life before I got abroad where I was really happy.

Of course I had several happy moments, even happy days or weeks, with my friends and my first girlfriend. But when they were gone or had returned home, it was back to the apathy or misery. Knowing intellectually that I wasn't fondly looking back on perfect lives that I had given up, I have been able to discard those misleading feelings of nostalgia for those times, knowing that high school was just as miserable as college was just as miserable as that year I worked for minimum wage as a college graduate, and so on. I now keep my happy memories of my friends and ex-girlfriend close to my heart, and simply noticed the other memories with a slight, dismissive shake of my head.

And yet, turning my single life abroad around and over, about and through my mind with my Then and Now posts, I know for a certain fact that that time was different. I regret what I gave up when I married, but it isn't my mind playing tricks on me, or laziness overtaking me; I truly was happy, for the first and only time in my life, during those six months.

While I was mentally studying my single life abroad to come to the final conclusion that I really was happy then, I challenged my own beliefs with several questions to get to the truth of things. I want to share those queries and answer them again here in case any readers want to know the results I came to, because these are the observations I need to address before I can bring my Then and Now experiences to a close:

Your Then and Now experiences lack detail, which makes them scarcely different from the married days you zone through.

I'm aware that I left out a lot of details in my stories. A few times it was to protect my identity by not getting too specific with the locales and landmarks (and I'll fill in all the blanks when it comes close to my son's high school graduation), but most of the time, it was because these experiences of mine occurred around five years ago. It can be difficult for me to remember pieces of those experiences because of the amount of time that has elapsed. But there are two things I need to explain:

First, I don't fill in the blanks with lies. If I don't remember, I don't remember, and I say so. Not a single one of any of my Then and Now posts contains any falsehoods meant to pad them out or make myself look better. If I couldn't remember the bulk of the specifics for an entire day of fun, I turned my limited memories into Odds and Ends experiences, five to a pack.

Second, the fact that I can remember those experiences to such a degree is very telling of how great those times were, and how alive I was. I can't even tell you what I did after work three nights ago.

Your experiences are boring.

Putting aside the lack of detail for a second, I assume that this is because the things I was doing weren't very appealing to specific readers. And that's fine; the point of my Then and Now posts isn't to say, "Hey, if you don't get married, you too can move abroad and wander around like a hobo." The point of my Then and Now posts is twofold:

First, it's to show the things that made me personally happy, like time with friends, time with history, time with nature, time with my girlfriend, and other things that came together to make the great time that was my single life.

Second, it's to show unmarried people the kind of freedom they will give up if they tie the knot.

If my Then and Now posts were boring because you prefer to club and barhop, then replace every single one of my experiences with your experiences out with your friends, or taking women home every other night. If my Then and Now posts were boring because you prefer the arts, imagine that every one of them took you to a new presentation by a different troupe of performers.

The point of my Then and Now posts is to say that if you marry, you will lose all of that. I know very few happily married people, but the ones who seem to be have either given up on life, or have not truly lived and have no idea what they've lost, without exception. My Then and Now posts are an attempt to open up a little spark of interest, or to ring a bell of truth in the mind of an unmarried person, so they realize that they, too, could lose everything by marrying.

75 full days of fun in a six month time span? Come on. That means every two or three days, you had a completely fun day.

Actually, this criticism is correct: 75 is not the amount of fun days I had. It was actually over 100.

Even leaving behind the fun days I had completely forgotten and subtracting the specials 41, 56 and 66 where I talked about my respective apartment, studies and phone, you still have to add back the dozens of days I left behind for Then and Now 25, which was a catch-all post for all the times my girlfriend and I got together on the weekend. You still have to add back the other two days in the three parter Then and Now 16, which talks about the time I went to the big city for the first time. And you also have to add back the other thirteen days of Then and Now 74, which was my two week Christmas vacation.

It's ludicrous to assume that you would keep up this pace of happiness, especially considering that, by your own admission, you spent the first two or three months unemployed and enjoying yourself.

It's true that a lot of my Then and Now posts were bunched up in the first two months when I was unattached and free of work. But is there any reason I couldn't do that again?

I made over $2000 a month. It cost me $700 a month to survive, or $1000 a month to thrive. It doesn't take a math genius to see that I could have taken a year long vacation for every year I worked if I took the $1000 route, and a two year vacation(!!) for every year I worked if I just lived very simply. Compare that with now, where I get a day off on the average of once a month, and 95% of the cash gets taken away to be spent, in part, on useless clothes, massages and restaurant trips by my wife.

Condensing those vacations to just two months, just like when I first arrived in this country, would be pathetically simple. Even factoring in the high cost of a hostel, it would have only been about $4000 to have that two month vacation every year in a new city or country. It would have only taken three months to make that money, another month to pay for a plane ticket, and the last eight would have netted around $10,000 to give to charity.

But none of that is possible now; I'm married. My Then and Now experiences are said and done, and all I have left to do is to add in details where I can, so I'll never forget that best part of my life. More importantly, I will continue taking my son out as much as possible to try and reclaim the glory of those past days with him, and to teach him the kind of life he can have if he avoids marriage like the rotting disease that it is.

Then and Now 75 - Odds and Ends 13

Then and Now 75 - Odds and Ends 13
Time: Before I got married.

This is my final Then and Now, where I'll share my favorite little stories from each of my different times abroad.

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In Then and Now 70, I described a building that my bud and I used as a compass to get around the city, but we actually went up to the top of it once to look around.

I don't think we actually planned on going up that day, but as we were walking past a shopping mall, my bud suddenly got the idea to go in and take a look. I agreed, and a few minutes later, we were standing at its base. There was a huge, dark pseudo alley (actually an outdoor part of the building) that led through some artificial ponds with a few fish inside. Beyond that was the building's main lobby, which was much more brightly lit and full of a gaggle of boring shops that sold nothing but cosmetics and jewelry. My bud and I went inside and took an elevator up this mammoth building, and walked past a scenic restaurant on our way to its very top.

The view was absolutely amazing. We could see the ocean from one side, and at another, the high rises of the city gave way to the more suburban parts beyond them. We took turns finding interesting things to point out below, including a tennis court on the roof of one particularly large apartment building.

After about twenty minutes of looking around and shooting the breeze, a group of older ladies came in. They were from a country whose language I had studied for years, but because I was so out of practice from studying the local language here, I could only understand what they were saying about the beautiful view; I couldn't converse. I probably should have tried, even if I looked like a fool, but I was still in my adjustment phase, so I ended up just smiling and waving.

After another half hour or so, my bud and I went downstairs to check out, then immediately leave, the restaurant with the absurdly high prices, then went back downstairs to get some grub at a more affordable (and probably more delicious) local place.

-----

Near the middle to the end of my stay at the hostel, I had a much better understanding of the city than when I had first come. In fact, the bus route map and a second, unmarked subway map, the former given to me by Ken and the latter that I picked up at the station, were things I hardly ever used anymore.

One day, as I was looking around the lobby of the hostel and checking out some brochures and pictures, a new arrival came up the elevator. He was a foreigner like me, except he looked ready to take on the city: sun hat with strap, huge backpack, camo jeans, the works. I smiled, and decided to welcome him like Ken had welcomed me. I introduced myself, shook his hand, and asked him questions about his home country, showed him around the hostel, told him of some places he could see, the works.

He said he wanted to visit some old palace, and since it was still noon, that he was going to head there right then. I asked if he knew how to work the subway system, and he said no, so I offered to accompany him and show him around. He politely refused, but after a little insistence, he agreed to let me play tour guide, and we went down the elevator to go check out the city.

We talked on the way up the road to the junction station that I had used hundreds of times by then, and got ourselves down to the subway cars, where I showed him how to pay and board. When I was done, he said that he could probably take it from there, but I said that I had nothing but free time while I was at the hostel, so I could take him to the junction station to show him where to transfer.

He seemed grateful, and we kept on going, talking about sights to see and the like, until we came to the main station where almost all the cars met up. Since his destination was to the west, and I wanted to head north, that was where we parted. But before he headed out, I gave him both of my maps so he wouldn't get lost. He took them with reluctance, saying I might need them more, but I smiled and told him that if he spent a few weeks here like I did, he'd be an expert, too.

Then, repeating Ken's words to me, I said, "They'll save your life, too."

He smiled, we shook hands, and we went on our ways to enjoy our lives as single men abroad.

-----

One day off from work, I decided it was time to be a tourist. I took a subway ride to a spot in the center of town, and came out at the station there, ready to see the sight for the day: an old mansion turned tourist spot.

I don't remember much of the trip there. There was only one little memory I had of the way in, and it was when I got a little lost about halfway there. I was standing next to a very large grassy median in the center of a ring of very tall buildings. The area was an absolute mess of twisting, car-glutted roads. I think almost every city in the world has a place like this: where all the main streets seem to converge in a huge, insane mishmash of traffic lights and winding streets. I zigzagged my way through several green lights before I made my way out of there.

Before I knew it, I was at the mansion. I don't know what happened to the family there, whether they all passed away, lost their fortune or just decided to sell/give their estate up to become a national monument, but there it was. The two entrances were both surrounded by little fountains and well-tended gardens of multicolored flowers. The stone roads that led in also split off in multiple directions, and there were awnings over almost every one of the little paths.

There really wasn't much else to see there. There were a couple of locals walking and looking around, but the stone paths that led all around the estate ended up in largely empty rooms. There were a couple of pictures and portraits of landscapes in a couple of them, and there was a DVD being projected in another about the history of the family, but otherwise, not much. Still, it was a nice enough walk, so I enjoyed myself.

I left the estate not long after seeing the last empty room, and headed away from the bustle of the busy streets to some place a little more relaxed. I wandered down a couple of narrow alleys between buildings, and knew I was on to something when the ground started to slope up. After passing a little garage and a smiling local working on his car, I came to the summit of the little slope: it was a wide field of grass that spread out as far as the eye could see to my left and right, and dropped sharply and suddenly to the banks of a tame river below.

I got as close as I could to the side to peek down, and the view was amazing. It was serene the way the sun glinted off of the water, and how wild, leaning shrubs clung to the grassy slopes for dear life on both sides with proud trees above them. On my left and right, running over the river, were a pair of suspension bridges. I watched a couple of cars travel over the both of them, and I started to really miss my motorcycle at that point. I knew I wanted to get another one while I was here, so I could visit more places in a single day than I could just traveling on foot. I was there for a half hour or so, then started the walk back to the subway.

-----

I took a trip with a one-time internet friend to a town with a bunch of movie theaters and restaurants. She took me to a restaurant that sold really popular meat soup, and asked me to try some. I asked what was in it, but she refused to tell me until I was done eating. I figured out exactly what it was before I had my first slurp, but I played dumb and downed it all anyway, keeping my gag reflex in check until I was done. Then, of course, she told me it was entrails, I faked looking sick for a few seconds, and she laughed. It didn't taste that bad, actually. In fact, it really didn't taste like anything, but it had the texture of rubber, and that was kind of nasty.

The movie town was several blocks of the city closed off so that only pedestrians could go through it; my friend and I walked straight down roads that cars had driven on just a bit before. We walked past a bunch of movie theaters and crowds of high school and college kids, all of them trying to one-up each other with their fashion sense: long hair and loud T-shirts for the boys, heavy makeup and short skirts on the girls. Just like back home, I thought. On the edge of the movie town, there was a square clearing between a bunch of tall buildings, some that had movie theaters on every floor, others which were restaurants piled on top of each other. In the clearing were several people selling artsy things: pictures, CDs, movies and more.

A bit away, I felt my heart skip a beat and felt a little nervous. Next to a rack of used CDs was someone dressed as No-Face from my littlest sister's favorite movie of all time, Spirited Away. The costume was so well made that I thought it was real. The boss' white face slowly turned around the clearing, looking for customers to assist, and I felt even more nervous when the face looked directly at me, then turned away a few seconds later.

Nonetheless, I knew I had to get a picture of the boss and give it to my sister later, so I slowly approached from a blind spot to the side, and spoke up. "Excuse me," I said in the local language, and No-Face's face turned to look at me. A shiver went down my spine. "Can I take a picture with you?"

"Sure!" a girl's squeaky voice came out. I stifled a laugh, smiled a big smile, and the big chicken got his picture.

-----

For my final Odds and Ends experience, I wanted to bring everything full circle and describe my very first experience coming here. There's nothing really special about that time, but the difference between that time and my eventual single life are very telling.

I didn't do much on the plane besides watch movies, but I spent portions of the flight nervously talking to a beautiful woman and got her email address, but I fell out of contact with her after a few weeks. When I arrived in the country, I told myself that I had to start putting out an air of confidence and I needed to start talking to more people. On the way through the airport terminal, I made an effort to smile and nod at other people, but I was still nervous, and it all felt so fake (it was just my old mind's way of trying to hold onto old habits). I went through customs and out to the front of the airport where I waited for my bud and his uncle and aunt, and they were about half an hour late, so I got nervous again about being stranded with no support. Eventually we met up, and I got into the car and we drove to his aunt's place, where I climbed the stairwell up to our room and dumped my stuff out.

It started pouring rain about then, but my bud and I went outside anyway so he could teach me how to change my money at the bank, and I picked up a couple hundred dollars worth of the local currency. While we were outside, I felt a little depressed because I wanted to start being a leader and work on my confidence, but there I was, just following my bud around like a puppy.

After that, we headed back to our room, where I felt absolutely exhausted from the jet lag. My bud warned me not to go to sleep until nighttime, and knowing he was right, we spent a couple of hours upstairs playing PSP together. Unfortunately, because he played copied games and I didn't, we played next to each other, but on our own. Night rolled around rather soon after that, so after PSPing and talking about old times for a few hours, my bud and I got ready to sleep.

Before I drifted off, I took a picture of myself as a "Before" photo, knowing that at the time, I wasn't a very attractive guy in any sense of the word. It wasn't a bad picture, but it certainly wasn't anything special: my hair was really short, I had a nervous smile on, I was about twenty pounds overweight and my eyes told the world that I was afraid.

A little over a month later, I took the internet profile "After" picture of myself at the hostel: spiked hair, confident "bad boy" smile, perfect weight and piercingly direct eyes. It took a little time, but I had arrived.

When I first got on the plane in June of 2007, I had no idea that I was going to be heading to the place where I would spend the best six months of my life, and I think my Then and Now posts really bring that out. I also had no idea that I would cap that experience off with marriage, which would destroy everything I had ever worked for. I should have thought things through and realized what I had, instead of believing the metric tons of tripe that society and the media had fed me about the non-existent benefits of this ruinous institution. All I have left of my old days now are my memories, and the fourteen year wait until I can have that life again.

As for today...

I woke up at 6:00.
I played video games.
My son woke up, so I turned off the game.
I played video games with him.
I prepared teaching lessons.
I went to work.
I taught students.
I came home.
I ate dinner.
I roughhoused with my son.
I watched TV.
I played video games with my son.
I started a load of laundry.
I folded and put away dry clothes.
I played cell phone games with my son.
I hung up wet laundry.
I slept.

Then and Now 74 - Last Christmas

Then and Now 74 - Last Christmas
Time: Late 2007, dating my wife.

For the sake of this Then and Now, I'm going to refer to my wife as my girlfriend.

This is the final transition of my single time, from dating to marriage, and is also the final time I had as a free man while dating my girlfriend before my entire life turned into the married gruel that it is today. Because this particular Then and Now was the last period of my life before I ended up shackled and beaten down into the married loser that I am today, this time holds an especially warm significance to me.

From the time of my birth to the day I left my family for the final time, my mother, siblings and I had never missed a Christmas together. Even through my mother's first three divorces, several family troubles, moving almost a dozen times and everything else, we always had that one day of the year to be with one another. In 2007, after I had conquered my depression, moved to a foreign country, lived on my own and met my excellent girlfriend, I wasn't about to let this be the year that our family was missing one. I had left a child, and I was coming back that Christmas a man.

Speaking of traditions, it was also tradition in my family to blow your entire first paycheck on something for yourself. And so, that's what I did: I saved up about $2000 for my plane ticket and money to buy pizza and stuff for my friends, and brought along a sack of video games to sell so I could go back abroad again with a little scratch. Truthfully, it was hardly necessary: I was making so much money before I got married that I would have been able to save up my emergency money goal of $5000 in about three months, and started giving to charity by mid-2008, so I wasn't all that concerned about my finances at that point.

My last Christmas took place over two solid weeks of absolute fun. It started at the airport with my girlfriend, and we had a final meal of Burger King, which I hadn't eaten since I entered the country. She couldn't believe the way I liked to eat the hamburgers there, by placing rows of french fries on the patty before eating. When I had checked my bags, she couldn't stop kissing and hugging me as I was on my way out. I protested fakely and hugged her back, then we finally waved goodbye and I was on my way to the plane.

My hair was spiked and I was dressed very nicely for the trip back home, because date, work or plane trip, I liked looking my best no matter where I went. I chatted with a couple of the people aboard the plane, then when they settled into their seats and got quiet, I pulled out my freshly charged laptop and PSP to play some video games. Thanks to them, and the movies playing on the little TV on the seat in front of me, I was back home in no time.

My mother met me at the airport, and it was getting on in the day. Luckily, my favorite Mexican restaurant was still open, so she took me there to get some massive, oily, creamy bean and cheese burritos covered in their exquisite sauce. Then, we went home, where hugs, kisses, handshakes and everything else waited for me from my family. As soon as I could, I put up scads of my video games up for auction on the family computer, and over the following two weeks, I saw bids coming in from all over the country piling up on them. I made close to a thousand dollars from sales, and ended up taking back a good chunk of the money than I started with.

I took a long walk back to my grandma's house from my mother's on my second or third day there. It was the middle of the afternoon when I left, and it took an hour or two to walk all the way, but it was such a great day that it felt very relaxing. The air was crisp with the chill of winter, and having spent six months in the cramped cities of this country, it was refreshing to be back in America, where the houses were big and the roads were wide. As I walked through the business section of town, I noticed dozens of stores that were run by locals of this country who had immigrated to America. All of the signs were written in both the local language and English, but where the local language signs had mystified me as a boy, I was able to read and understand most of them that day.

Passing through the lines of shops, I left my lower-middle income city behind and headed through some rich towns to where my grandma lived. The more I walked towards her house, the more trees there were growing on the sidewalk, down the road medians and in front of houses and offices. The air, already refreshing from December's frost, was cleaner than I had ever breathed abroad.

When I got to my grandma's house, I was happy to see that her car was there. I knocked on the door, and she surprisedly let me in, where I gave her her angel doll present that could plug in to make it light up. We talked for a good hour or two, and she told me about some health scares that she had had, what she had done with my old room there (storage room), and showed me some gardening that she had done outside. I even learned a surprising fact that day: she was as into the WWE as I was back then.

After getting some lemonade from the lemon trees she had out back, I said goodbye and walked on. With every couple of minutes, the day was getting darker and darker, until it was almost pitch black in my childhood town. There were very few streetlights in the city, and with the towering, dark trees lining the roads everywhere I went, and a lack of cars on the roads, it soon became a place of peaceful solitude.

My best friend lived very close to my grandmother, maybe a fifteen minute walk away, so I went to his house next, snapping blurry pictures of Christmas lights all over the place as I went. When I got there, though, he wasn't home, so I left a note on his door to get into contact with me later. An hour or two later, I was back home.

On another day, I walked to my bud's house, who lived relatively close to my best friend, so I could bring him his present and apologize for my lazy behavior in finding us housing abroad. His mom let me in the house and called him down, and I said sorry. Cool as ice, he let me know that it wasn't a big deal, and he and I made plans to get together with my other best friend later.

When we did, my best friend had brought our mutual friend Oscar, and six other friends we had all made on World of Warcraft a few years back. While I was gone, my best friend and his WoW buddies had all gotten to know one another even better, and we all decided to have a big bash at Medieval Times while I was in town, so we could meet up for the first time. On the way there, I got to know one of the WoW guys, Sid, a long-haired guy with an amazing sense of humor. He was very quiet when we first met in my best friend's car, but I kept up with my self-effacing humor, experiences abroad and general good nature so well, that the ice between us was broken in a matter of minutes.

I met another of my former WoW buddies when we arrived at Medieval Times: Elaine. She was incredibly nice and very cute. When she first saw me with my spiked hair standing next to my best friend, I smiled and said, "Hey, Elaine." She looked back at me warily. "Who are you?" she asked. I smiled wider and told her my Troll Hunter's screen name. Her face lit up in an instant, and she shouted my real name as she ran forward to hug me tight.

That night was an excellent night of feast, sport and action. Our knight lost, but I got to hold an Excalibur replica at the shop later.

Another day, Oscar brought his PS3 and Rock Band to my best friend's house for rotating groups of us to play together, while the others smoked, drank and ate pizza. As luck would have it, I had bought a PS3 and Rock Band while I was abroad, so I was excellent at guitar, great at drumming, and halfway decent at singing. There were several awesome people at the party, and I got to know two pretty well:

Ed, a hilarious, larger than life guy with long hair, was Sid's brother. He was amazing on the vocals, and always had hilarious jokes to tell. I learned the term "spank bank" from him.

Henry was someone that you might think, from the looks of him, was a completely average person. But he was anything but: he was sharp and quick-witted, and while we were all outside between songs and smoking, he led several interesting discussions. One was an interesting observation that animals feel euphoria before they die, and it served no biological purpose, so that might be evidence of a creator. Another was a "Would You Rather" game, where everyone in the group unanimously picked being paralyzed, getting a sex change operation or having their testicles eaten by a shark (my choice) over sleeping with Rosie O'Donnell. He was a great drummer, too.

During Rock Band, everyone was amazed by how well I was playing the drums, especially when I took us through Cherub Rock on Expert, but even I wasn't good enough to beat Paranoid; Henry and Sid had to take turns pressing the foot pedal for me. One of my favorite moments was when I was playing a guitar solo while smoking, taking hits of my cig from one side of my mouth and blowing the smoke out the other side while I kept up the strumming nearly perfectly. It felt cool, though I know it was geeky.

Yet another time at my best friend's place, we all did some screwdrivers and smoked a little pot. I was a bit nervous, because the last time I smoked, I was a depressed teenager in college. After I had smoked then, I was scared to death that everyone around me was staring at me and judging me, I had hot and cold flashes, and I had pitch black tunnel vision for several hours after. Even when I went home and slept, I was still out of it for another day.

But this time, I got giggly. Everything everyone was saying was absolutely hilarious, but when we had our two DDs take us to Denny's to get something to eat, I tried to keep myself under control. Still, I remember that when my best friend ordered the "Super Bird" sandwich, I couldn't stop snickering at the name. After I had a burger and fries, I got up to go to the bathroom, and I felt a little dizzy. I started to think that everyone was looking at me and judging me again.

So? I thought to myself. Let 'em stare. I gotta take a leak.

On another day, my family and I went back to my favorite Mexican restaurant to get more burritos, but this time, an aunt that I hadn't seen in about ten years and her husband came with us. I was charismatic, funny and interesting the whole time, which I guess was a shock to my aunt, because the last time she saw me, I was a long-haired, depressed, scowling loser. I took a picture with her outside, bright smiles on the both of us. My hair was spiked, I was wearing my favorite black shirt and blue jeans combo, and I had a bit of a beard growing: my favorite look. It's the last picture I have of myself before my girlfriend got pregnant, and I still can't believe how lively I looked back then.

My littlest sister and I spent a lot of time playing our favorite video games together, ones that she watched me play over several years as she fell asleep in my room nearly every night. We played every one of those games together over our vacation. I directed her on how to pick up Poshul, her favorite character from Chrono Cross, showed her how to beat quick enemies in Castlevania - Symphony of the Night, and advised her on upgrades to buy in Rock 'n Roll Racing while we played together (and I let her win half the time). The last game, Elemental Gearbolt, was one that we had played for years together, and had never beaten. It was during that vacation that we finally downed the final boss together, me on the controller and her on the gun, with stunned looks of disbelief on our faces.

My other sister and I went out to get lunch at Subway, but otherwise we didn't hang out that much. She grew up faster than all of us, and she had a huge network of friends and club activities to take care of during that vacation. She's awesome.

My brother and I hung out in my room, watching Fenslerfilm's G.I. Joe PSAs, sharing internet meme Youtube movies with one another, and swapping stories of near death experiences from the time we both rode motorcycles. He had to head out to join the military pretty quickly after Christmas, so we didn't hang out that much either. He's awesome, too.

Christmas day was as excellent as ever. We tore open our gifts and thanked one another for our swag, told stories, ate candy and laughed a lot. I made out like a bandit, with several DVD sets and a couple of wanted video games to take back to my apartment.

When it was time to go, I said goodbye to all my friends and family, and my parents took me back to the airport to say farewell. I played video games on the flight back, and arrived just a few hours before work started, when my girlfriend picked me up and took me back to my apartment. When we got there, we had sex almost immediately.

Matching up the dates to her eventual birthing of our son, I'm pretty sure that that's the moment I impregnated her. How ironic it was to cap off such an amazing vacation with the action that would ruin my life.

As for now, my current Christmas days are somewhat relaxing with my family, and certainly a great time for my son. My family and I open presents, get something to eat, then go back to our usual routines for the day. I think it's telling, though, that the first of my wife and I's major fights took place during Christmas vacation in 2009, two years after my last Christmas vacation as an unmarried man, and that I really don't remember much of the others besides the smiles on my son's face as he opened presents.

And yet, the last Christmas I had before I married still sits fresh and unspoiled in my mind.

Then and Now 73 - First Date

Then and Now 73 - First Date
Time: Mid-2007, single and at my apartment.

For the sake of this Then and Now, I'm going to refer to my wife as my girlfriend.

This is the third transition period of my life, from my life as a single man with a respectable bank account and his own apartment, to a dating man with a sizeable amount of money, an excellent sex life, and more free time and activities to enjoy than I knew what to do with.

My girlfriend and I first met over the internet, as one of many girls (and some guys) who had written to my internet profile. From what she has told me, she had no intention of dating me when we first met up together; she was just interested in getting to know some people from abroad and practicing her English skill.

After I got her email and we set up a time to meet, I had a very long day of work to get through. It was a Friday, one of my worst and busiest times of the week, because after my ten hour shift was done, I had another three or four hours of teaching to do the next morning at another school. It's a common feeling for anybody in the workforce: two shifts are spaced so close to one another, that when starting the second shift, it feels like you never left work. Because of that, I didn't sleep on Friday night. I went home at around 10:00, did my showering and all that, then spent the next nine hours just playing video games in my apartment. When the sun's rays came through the cracks in my door, I showered and went directly to my next shift of work, and got through it as soon as possible.

Unfortunately, I underestimated my ability to counteract the lack of sleep, so when I went to the train/bus/subway station to meet up with my girlfriend, I was exhausted. My vision faded in and out, I was off my game, and I felt a bit too giggly (when I wasn't spaced out). I met her near a restaurant in the station, and a friend was with her. But as soon as I arrived and introduced myself to the two of them, her friend left, and my girlfriend and I went to a coffee shop to hang out for a while.

We talked about the history of her country, its leaders, its culture, things like that. The strangest part was when we discussed one of their folk villain/heroes, but since the tale involved incest, I'll refrain from going into detail. All in all, I felt that I wasn't as good a friend as I could have been, and fully expected this girl to make this our last meeting. But surprisingly enough, she asked to hang out again, so we did.

The next time we met was a week later to go eat and see Invasion. I was still in the financial red at that point, so I had to sheepishly have her pay for the food and the tickets, but she assured me it wasn't a problem. It was a fun time, and she impressed me by saying how she liked the look of the cars in the movie. We went to our separate homes as soon as it was over, but not before she gave me a sudden shoulder massage in the subway station.

And so we come to the day of our first date, just another week or two later. It didn't start out that way; she just wanted to take me to a tourist spot with some historical sights, that's it. We took the subway all the way up to the tourist spot, and went to get lunch at McDonald's. She seemed very nervous to be going there, and when I asked her why, she told me that she wanted to go somewhere more local and authentic to show me what her country had to offer. I was fine with it, of course; delicious food is delicious food.

When lunch was done, we hopped a bus to an abandoned fort that was converted into a modern day museum. Everything in there was as it was when the fort was first built: there were cannons on the parapets, the garden inside was still in great shape, and even the bedrooms were still kept (old beds, desks, books and all) in the same way as before. I took quite a few pictures of the place, and even some of her. In every picture, she had this deer-in-the-headlights look to her, because she was very nervous for some reason.

We passed by a tour group of English speakers, so I kind of dragged my girlfriend over to them to say hello. After our introductions and a bit of small talk, they moved on, so I got my girlfriend and I to shadow them so I could translate some of the things they were saying, and so she could understand better. After that, we hung around for an hour or so, taking pictures and looking around the historic landmark, until it was just about time to head back. After a quick bus trip, we were back on the subway... and this was where she fell for me.

It wasn't for a good reason at all, either. The subject of my chubby friend asking me to date her came up, and when my girlfriend asked if I would do it, I said no. I explained that barring a very rare physical problem or disease, people were fat because they were either lazy or had poor self control. And fat people tended to be not only out of control with their eating habits, but with their emotions as well; almost every fat person I had met was either overly happy to mask the sadness inside, or terminally depressed because of their condition. For the record, I was the latter for about two or three years in college.

Because of that, while I would certainly be friends with any fat person (and even go exercising with them if they wanted help with their weight), I wouldn't want to become a fat girl's emotional caretaker as her boyfriend. I was too afraid that one or both of us would get hurt in that kind of relationship.

Just like with Nell, this rude statement was met with positive feedback, even though I didn't think this way about fat girls only because I was concerned about their feelings, but also because I didn't find them physically attractive. I even told my girlfriend this. Still, she focused more on the former reason, saying I was a very good guy who cared about the feelings of others, and left my more shallow reason by the wayside. In any event, that's what caused her to fall for me: just some random discussion about overweight girls.

When we got back to my apartment, I showed her around my spartan place with very little furniture, played a couple of her favorite songs on Guitar Hero, showed off a couple of pictures from my travels... then we made out for about an hour.

And with that, she went home. Things only got heavier and more interesting between us as time passed, and at that moment, when she officially became my girlfriend, I was filled with a kind of dread. Was she going to be the only girl I dated abroad? Was she the one? Were my traveling days over? If I had to break up with her, could I do it in such a way that I wouldn't hurt her? I didn't follow these thoughts through enough to the source, that marriage is a bad idea and I should have avoided it and pregnancy at all costs. I'm paying for that mistake now.

But at the time, even as I was stricken with a sense of confusion and fear at what was going to happen with my girlfriend, I was a whirlwind of several other emotions. I was happy that I was in a relationship. I was eager to know where it was all going. I was excited to be with someone so kind, funny, smart, cute and adventurous. I was unsure of what would happen in the coming days and weeks, and that made me even more excited. I felt that life still had surprises in store for me, even after all I had experienced. Whatever happened, things were going to get more interesting from that point on.

Three months later, I would be eating those words. But at least, at that time, I was happy.

As for today...

I woke up at 5:00.
I surfed the net.
I played video games with my son.
I took him to school, then I went home.
I played video games.
I ate lunch.
I took a nap.
I woke up.
I went to work.
I taught students.
I came home.
I did the dishes.
I started a load of laundry.
I played video games.
I hung up wet laundry.
I slept.