So with all of us DE-ites (DE’rs? Dews?) there’s a very clear trend. (I’m gonna try this “Markdown” stuff so we’ll see how sloppy this looks in the end, I’m not a heavy format user but y’know, someone’s gotta test the waters)

There’s a trend:

.. First Entry: How I feel about DE closing
.. Second Entry: Here’s my life story up until now

Now I’m not saying everyone did that but a lot of us did and I totally understand why. I feel like coming to a new community after writing in one specifically for X many years it’s like “alright, now to catch you people up on everything you’ve missed” which brings me to my next point

The Creation

It was a dark and stormy nigh- No wait, that’s not how it went at all… But it could have been! I wasn’t really aware of what was going on at that point, I had a lot on my plate okay!?

It was a spring morning, around 4am in ‘84. I was a planned birth (what is this bitlife?) to which my father usually refers to as “the last time I had sex with your mother” which gives you an idea to the tune of my life.

I was born via c-section, or so I’m told and that’s a theme that will follow for the next several years. 2 years after being born my parents decided to divorce. It was not pretty it was not clean and both parents loved to tell stories about how terrible the other one was.

My dad’s way of fighting was to storm out of the room, shut the door and open a book and not speak to anyone. He doesn’t really “do” emotions… why does that seem so familiar?

ANYWAY this early disfunctional way of dealing with reality had an adverse effect on me in the form of seizures and a plethora of slow development stages. I was born practically half deaf because of ear wax build up? I had seizures until I was 4 and my brother was the only one who could understand me when I spoke. An, ironically, unspoken bond we still carry today.

The doctors say my seizures were caused by the tension of my parents fighting by not fighting. I believe my mom lived with my dad for 3 years after the divorce.

Imagine that.

My last seizure was caused by a flash on a camera and when they raced me to the hospital I had a Grand Mal seizure while hooked up to the EKG machine. My dad describes it like the Dr’s had gone into a candy shop so I’ve always thought that was kinda cool that that information is out there somewhere.

The Early Years

I was an adorable child. Confident, cute, and flirty. A trend that would get me into trouble for pretty much my entire life to this date. Thankfully my wife and I are both honest about our flirting and really have fun with it more than letting it be a straining point in our relationship. I was born into a small town (but not south Detroit) in Ontario and I was immediately too big for the town. I had a girlfriend in kindergarten that I still talk to today, and I was well ahead of my time (and you thought peaking in high school was bad)

After/during kindergarten there was a nasty separation battle to which my father, allegedly, said “Even if you win I will kidnap those children and take them away from you so you should just let me win” (She said to her 15 year old son who was having an identity crisis before that was even a thing)

Once that was all… settled? We were moved to a bigger city near by. It was great. I spent some great 5 years in public school, had a girlfriend for most of those 5 years (It all makes sense now doesn’t it Drea?) and I was popular and loved by all, but hold up.... Public School last’s longer than grade 1-5 doesn’t it?

The Glasses that Changed the World

Now not to get on some Harry Potter shit but I had glasses in a time before they could be fashionable. Oh yes I had glasses in that glorious time where you could be a football star athlete and if you wore glasses you were a nerd and you wore that scarlet letter with the shame you were meant to. Shaaaaaame!

This is what I like to refer to as “the fall” as over the course of a single night I had gone from loving myself and who I was to being a poor grade 5er with a teacher who hated him (Get fucked Roland!) and glasses that went from the top of his eyebrows to the bottom of his cheeks. T’was a dark time (The Daaarkness!) but I remember it well. I was watching the world go by and I remarked to my father “Why are the streetlights fuzzy” To which I was largely disregarded (as was tradition) until school started to become an issue and then they got on that train pretty fast.

The Darkness

The next several years were… not great. I was confused, angry and lost, and I wasn’t even out of public school yet! I went from being this cool confident child to having that all shattered because of stigma (I was tempted to make an astigmatism joke there but I didn’t for your sake) Even with the glasses however the schooling didn’t get any better so my parents, in all their love and concern, did what any other parent did with their child at that time… they drugged me. They never once (that I can recall) sat down and spoke with me, nope! I was a child what did I know! Here take this little blue pill, it’s called Ritlin and it will make you concentrate.

But oh no. It didn’t make me just concentrate. It turned me into a zombie, a shell of my former self that was already lost to the ether of unpopularity due to glasses, suddenly I became unable to socialize, I didn’t want to be active and any communication skills that I had spent my life developing were rusting away in a drug fueled haze. Did I mention that I was just a child?

Shortly after this I was taken to a therapist to find out “what was wrong” As though no one thought to be like “Hmm what’s changed lately?” and this therapist, Dr. Wojokoski, was my mothers informant and nothing more. I went in, I spoke about how Ritlin made me feel and was promtly told “Well that’s not one of the listed side-effects so it’s not the ritlin that’s causing that”

This was about the time that I started to just shut down. at 10. At 10 I actively decided that my father was trying to kill me, didn’t want me and I figured I was adopted. (because I didn’t share the same middle name) I started to turn inward and develop a lovely sense of paranoia, something I didn’t realize until I met my current wife who really, bless her soul, helped me work through a lot of shit in a short amount of time.

The Breakdown

After becoming what was esentially a robot in a boy’s skin I felt the need to focus on what else was going on around me. Now I recognize I’m being slightly dramatic for the sense of flair and readability, I did not have a terrible childhood, I had a childhood. I don’t think my father beat me, I did dumb shit, got hit. I was disapplined. Apparently my wife says this is victim rationalization but I think it was just the 90’s. I always had food on the table, my parents were always sober and I always had clean clothes. It wasn’t THAT bad.

So what else was going on around me? Well by this time my father had been through 3 different night school courses, one for nursing, one for boating and one for something else that I forget. I wasn’t the only one trying to figure out my identity during this time. My brother, around 13ish now was going down the Gen X path and becoming a ruffian, getting in trouble all the time and having friends over all the time. Out the micro-community that my brother was a part of, our house was the safe house, it was the place that people could go to get away and get a meal and have somewhere to sleep.

My dad tells this story often how one of my brother’s friend asked to stay for dinner to which Dad made some remark about “his mother knowing” and the kid replied “I don’t know where she is right now…” and that guy proceeded to pretty much live with us for the next couple of years. His mother regularly went on benders and just… disappeared for weeks. So when I say I didn’t have a bad childhood, I did not have a bad child hood. I just grew up in a time before conversation was the first step.

Eventually my brother and I were called to the dinner table one day and there was a somber tone, it was the middle of the afternoon and it was just us and Dad and he said to us

“I’m Gay”

To which my Gen X brother replied “Yea okay?”
and I replied “I’ll believe it when you bring home a boyfriend”

So the next day we met a man! It was cool. No one gave a shit, anywhere at all. But remember all those schools and stuff dad was doing? Well I wasn’t the only one with an identity crisis. It had came out that my father was assaulted, regularly, as a child by a family member. His coming out… was not easy. His own parents denied him and his story of the assault and it took them years to really come to terms with it. It wasn’t pretty and I don’t even know the worst of it I’m sure.

So that’s when I got shipped back to that small town.

Home Again

So. I’m back. Back in this little shit hole town with people that I didn’t like in a world where I didn’t even like myself. But I still had one thing going for me. I was charming. Relationships and drama have carried me for the better part of my life, I’m nothing if not consistent! The true irony of this is that I didn’t lose my virginity until I was 21, despite opportunities I was always too timid to really open myself up that much. A situation that I would later realize was actually Demisexuality/Asexuality. But NO ONE TALKED ABOUT THAT BACK THEN. That’s why LBGT is so important to me. I didn’t know what I was supposed to feel (Thanks Ritlin) All I knew at this point in my life is that I was a man and I was supposed to like girls and sex and dominance.

The Nice Guy

Oh yes friends, I was a Nice Guy(tm) I expected if I did good things for people that I would be rewarded with love. And largely that was accurate but there was a lot of shameful gas lighting and emotional manipulation in my teen years. Despite calling my father daily, and crying daily and being angry and a teenager and being forced to take drugs that essentially killed any ounce of creativity or personality that anyone could have (PS, I don’t like Ritlin or it’s variances)

High school wasn’t bad, it wasn’t great but it wasn’t bad and I feel like a lot of us would say that about our HS careers. I made a lot of good friends, I grew a lot and started to find myself, bit by bit. I was picked on and bullied and I couldn’t wait to not have to take Gym class anymore. I was embarrassed to get undressed in front of others, which is kinda hilarious because had I known then what I know now, I probably would have gotten some serious street cred if I had gotten changed in front of others. However, I was a nerd, I got picked on a lot so I would sneak into the change room, change, and then leave one shoe untied so that when people came in, I could tie up my shoe and make it look like I had just finished getting changed.

Somewhere during my high school times my mother also met a new man, he was great, he brought doughnuts when he came over and he cooked WAAAY better than my mother. And he was a Cop. Yep. Mildly oppressive for an angsty teen but honestly I give him the most credit for me being the man I am today, the happy man, the functional man, that I am today. He taught me to laugh, a skill that was lost through out the early years of fear.

There are some pretty good times there, like that one time I didn’t delete the internet history (oops!) and he was like super stern talking to me in front of my mom then when she went away he was like “I’m just happy you’re not looking at men, next time delete the history!” which, I mean, not exactly PC now an days but as a teenager I thought it was pretty hilarious.

Eventually my mother married him and I told them to get married on my birthday cuz I thought that was cute and so did they so they did it that way. Around this time Permanent Internet became a thing and I started to look for more people who “got me”

Da Bartender

Enter TeenChat. The best… oh god how many years? of my life up until this point. It was around this time, or shortly there after that I started journaling and really had somewhere to direct my anger, The chat, not the journaling… okay maybe a little bit of the journaling got the rage too.

I created the name for simple reasons, manipulation… no wait. I really thought about this name, like, a lot. I knew that I wanted to listen to people’s problems and I always had this image of a Bartender in a smokey bar listening to people’s stories day in and day out. I had always dreamed of becoming a bartender, still do to a degree but life had other plans… more on that later.

Little known fact! Da Bartender wasn’t my first name. My first name was “Psycho at 17” or something like that, where I came into the room, Identified the regulars and got to know the vibe of the chat before coming back in with Da Bartender and carved out my place in the chat. Bonus fact, I was actually 16.

Other great names included but were not limited to: Largely Insane and Falcon Damien CRRRRINGE

Shortly after I became a Reg in that chatroom it took little effort for me to power trip and basically become an asshole surrounded by assholes. We were almost all angry, almost all bullied, and almost all looking for a fight. For better or worse, my experiences there were another piece of the personality and to some degree translated into IRL giving me the courage and confidence to stand up to bullies. And by stand up to them I made the realization that ever bully was bullied by someone bigger… I just needed to find the bigger bully and befriend him. And I did. The later years of high school were pretty great if not for that one reason.

There’s a lot more to go over about Teenchat/Broken Hearts (the name of the sub-chat) and it feels unfair to gloss over it so, but there’s just so much more and in hindsight, it seems like such a small part, despite that it seemed so big back then.

The Roaring 20’s

After graduating Highschool (and skipping, promising that I would go to my college grad instead) I was pushed heavily into going into computers, because I was on a computer all the time. This was one of my biggest regrets. I was still floating through life not really being myself but rather listening to others and just doing what I was told. Robotic was familiar. I quickly realized I had no interest in building websites, although my website ode to BH is still out there somewhere, maybe I’ll post it later, it’s pretty hilarious.

But I was just so done with school. I had spent a decade hating the place and pinning most of my shortcomings to the sterile environment that was nothing more than a mere social experiment. I was told College would be different because I was surrounded by people who had a shared interest. It was not different. I was still an outcast, just surrounded by other outcasts that wanted to be there. So I dropped out after a year and went into the working world.

Whether this was a mistake or not is still up for debate. My step-father had a lead on a dishwashing job in a Casino and thought that I could use it to get my foot in the door and work my way up to becoming a slot tech or someone who made money hand over fist. What he didn’t realize is that this little worker bee was a natural with a knife.

I remember the day fondly. I had been working in the dish for little under a year, I had hit my pay cap as a fulltime dishwasher and immediately had nothing else to aspire to. The night was busy but dish was not (yet) and one of the cooks who had been grooming me pulled me aside and was like “Hey, I need you to filet a fish, I know you can do it, let me show you how”

Yea. Not scramble eggs or fry fries. Filet a fucking fish.

After that I was everyone’s favourite pet project. Anything anyone could teach me, they would. But there was one fatal flaw no one realized… I was 19. I was arrogant, I was mouthy, I was ungreatful and I was a loose cannon. I would chirp off at anyone that gave me the rough side of their attitude. I was perfect for the kitchen.

I regret how I acted and how ungrateful I was. Some of those people really built up a sense of pride in me, taught me strength and confidence. I was running the line in no time and they all got a kick out of me tearing people down that couldn’t keep up. It really wasn’t healthy.

Then came him. Beautiful, popular, charming, kind, Him. I don’t know how I feel about Him, and I don’t mean any of this in the romantic sense, he was the brother I never had, he took me under his wing and helped me experience the world. I gave 12 years of my life to that man and his plan and now nothing. But we’ll get to that later. First! Drug abuse and booze!

The fun part about shift work is that at night, there are fewer people around so it’s more chill. The worst part about night shift is that there’s fewer people around so you can do nothing. I had a friend that would bring in new drugs on the reg to the night shift and be like “here try this, it’s Perks!” and all sorts of other stuff. It was good times but dear god am I lucky I didn’t get addicted.

Somewhere during my time in this first job I moved out of home and in with a bunch of friends from public school, it was fun… ish? but a boys club of people who thought friends tore friends down and that meant you were tight. It was Toxic. And eventually that came to a head when I told them all to go die in a gutter. By this time I smoked weed and cigs regularly. I drank regularly and was barely aware of my surroundings. And if I was, I was probably angry at them. There were times when I wrote and there were times when I dissapeared for months at a time. Generally I came back to talk about whatever girl was on my plate that month as Online Dating sites like PlentyofFish started to become popular.

Hayley

Much like other people have mentioned, every girl was The One and they were all varying levels of crazy. It wasn’t until Rebecca that I started to go “hmmm… Maybe it’s me” But before Rebecca came Hayley. The poor lucky sob to take my Virginity. She wasn’t a bad girl, we were both young and incomplete. Or at least I was. She was a confident girl and I was not, she was secure and I was not. She knew what she wanted and I did not.

So I knocked her up, got my eviction notice that same day from the asshole I was living with who only gave me 2 weeks notice, which he could do since nothing was official. That guy was a fucking psycho. He thought I was bringing people over to let them do their laundry so he said the laundry was broken but he disconnected it when he went away and it was just several shades of psycho. He had some major issues and I think I lucked out when I got outta there safely.

Anyway, one messy abortion story later and I was single again, still cooking and moving at least once every year and then I moved in with Him and his buddy. This is one of my major fuck ups. Not moving in with Him, having Her Move in with Him. I broke the bro-code, just as my brother had done years before with his psycho g/f and the knife that cut me, I used to cut my friend.

Jackie

Cue Jackie! Yes, I basically tell time but what disaster I was dating at the time. Jackie wasn’t a bad gir… woah, Deja Vu. Jackie came from an extremely abusive relationship and I was a white knight riding in to save her from her terrible boyfriend oh and no worries, just move in with me while you figure everything out! CRIIIINGE I don’t regret what I did, really, It wasn’t right and if I could go back and change it I would, but I feel better pissing off a friend than turning my back on someone who was being hurt? I guess that’s the best way to look at it.

Jackie and I dated for a bit, I can’t think of how long, several months, but, again, I was damaged goods and she was damaged goods, I sent her out into the real world when she was ‘freed’ from her ex who basically never let her live so I was like “Hey Try drugs and booze!” and she snowballed, hard. Brilliant fucking cook though, one of the best bakers I’ve ever known to date. So much good bread. Her tits were nice too, great sex and a cute little ass. But (hah! see what I did there!) it only takes once cleaning up after sex to wipe shit off your pubes to realize “Suddenly I don’t feel so good about this”

So I gas lit her into moving across the country.

Like I said, I was not a good man and I’m sorry if I’m shattering your image of me but I gotta be real and honest and put it all out there because that’s the reality of life. Behind every good man is a series of terrible situations.

Jackie’s grandmother was not well and she was debating about going back to visit, our relationship and sex life had died, we were constantly fighting and I was playing the role of my father when we fought, I just stopped talking. I was emotionally unavailable for a girl who needed someone to be emotionally available. After looking for a way out I suggested she move back home to the east coast to be with her family and figure shit out. It didn’t go well for her at first and I can’t speak for how that experience effected her but at one point she emailed me blaming me for everything that had gone wrong in her life and said she was going to kill herself that night. So I did what any self respecting human would do and I forwarded the email to her family. Again, I’d rather have done something and have her be okay, than done nothing and hear that she killed herself.

I cared for her, I still do in some sense, we still talk and she’s doing much better now but there will always be a special bond between us I feel. We were broken people trying to make it work and it just didn’t…

It was around this time that I took a break from dating and women and then things kinda became the status quo at the Casino for a while, I was still hanging out with Him who had quit a couple years back and gone to work somewhere else, still got my game on, I was smoking around an ounce of week per paycheque and just… passing time waiting to die basically.

Him

One day, after being burnt out of the casino grind and looking for something more fulfilling my buddy, Him, told me about a job opening at his place. Claiming it to be a classic kitchen where you worked your ass off and when you finished you could go and played the pipers song of how great it was.

The then Chef was a wirey scrappy looking guy like myself, he was old school in the way that if the line didn’t go well it was everyone elses fault. I originally didn’t like the guy then I did, then I didn’t then I did. He was the type of boss that when you go to sign out it’s a “oh just one more thing” bullshit. He liked to throw his authority around just to prove he was in control. But this isn’t about that guy.

Regardless I got the job and Him, his brother and I all partied our faces off that night in preparation for me to quit my high paying job and go work at a school restauraunt. The pay was less but the work was more, it was fulfilling. It was hard, good work. I don’t always look back on those 5 or 6 years with glee but I think over all it was a good experience. (I just want everyone to know that I’ve been typing for about 3 hours straight by now and we’re almost done here)

See the thing I did and didn’t realize about Him was that He was very good at getting people to believe that his goal was Our Goal. He talked about one day We would run the kitchen etc etc etc. Essentially the gas lighter got lit. But in his defense it was the same thing his boss was telling him when he was just a line cook. Either way I eventually worked my way up through the ranks to become Assistant Kitchen Manager (Don’t call me Chef I work for a living) and came to be in charge of the night shift and the part timers who were all university students. Working with them, hands down, was the best time of my life. It was such fulfilling work, I felt great working with them, I really look back on it with a smile. But only that part.

Not the 120hour pay cheques. Not doing pay roll and seeing that the highest Day Shifter was at 83hours while all the FT night people were over 100. I don’t miss the imbalance and being taken advantage of because I was always available. I don’t miss coming home at midnight after drinking at the bar (Where booze as free for me) and then waking up at 8am just to field the calls that the Chef(Him) wouldn’t answer his phone for. I don’t miss traveling by bus for an hour just to cover a day shifter who was regularly sick/hungover just because I knew a 16hour day was easier than them being down a day shift. I don’t miss thinking I was okay with it all and setting that precedent. I don’t miss the hangovers and trying to constantly escape.

Rebecca

Y’know what’s a great idea? Dating one of you staff. Y’know what’s not actually a great idea? Dating one of your staff. Although I got huge cred when I wrote her up for talking back to me during a shift. No one really gave me shit after that. Except her. Always her. Rebecca is the second biggest chapter in my life. It was 3 years, it was fun, late nights staying up with her while she sobbed over essays that she had to finish while she pounded back redbulls. But eventually, as was the trend with most of my relationships, the sex went first because I didn’t know I was different, I just thought I had a low sex drive. I didn’t realize that I couldn’t just sleep with people I wasn’t into. I, to this day, don’t know how people do that. (That’s what Demisexual means, or so I’m told)

Anyway, Rebecca. I remember how I hooked up with her, she was downstairs drinking with the crew and flirting with me and talking to someone else then she came over to me later and said something along the lines of “these girls are all stuck up, they asked me who I was gonna take home, You or Him (yes that him) and I said Both Hopefully!” So I was like “Hey this woman seems capable of a serious relationship!” and we dated for 3 years. She was a monster in the kitchen, super capable but her and her family and her friends had this… air of superiority about them. It was all a pecking order and everyone wanted to be on top and it was all based on the numbers game. No place for a cook. I always felt inferior to her and around her and her family, I just felt like I was always under pressure to perform and pretend that everything was okay. It was exhausting.

So of course we bought a house together.

I swear if I could reach back and slap myself I would. This is where we start to get real and everything starts to fall into place. Which makes no sense given what I just said because let me tell ya, I don’t own a house anymore!

After the emotional distance grew, and Rebecca’s band life looked like it was starting to blossom, I became toxic. I was worried and jealous that she, as talented as she was, was going to leave me behind. It was like being in a tunnel and watching a train coming toward you. It was slow, but it was imminent and you knew it wasn’t the speed that was going to kill you. It was the weight. The weight of everything, of 3 years of everyone commenting on our perfect relationship of us preening to appear perfect of just… everything. I never really had time to myself because I had no work/life balance, I never had any money and was borderline agoraphobic and I had no support. There was no one asking what was wrong, everyone just thought everything was great. That’s how I realized I really didn’t have any friends, I just had people who were there. Him who had taken me under his wing had gone his own route and I had gone mine, never seeing each other except at work, as boss and subordinate. I had no one. Looking back. I was really all alone.

Anyway, long story short, I bought a house to fix our ailing relationship (because that makes sense) and then the day after valentines day she broke up with me. 3 months after we bought the house. As though she didn’t know this was going to happen! As though I! didn’t know this was going to happen! Fuck me, when I wanted to buy a house and she didn’t that should have been obvious that our paths were already separate and I should have kicked her ass to the curb and bought a house on my own. I would be making bank now with the way the market is.

Regardless. After the break up I lived in the house, that was way too big for me, my paranoia and dependencies grew. I was drinking a 24 pretty much every 3 days. It’s worth noting as well that I’m 6‘1 and about 140lbs. 160 if I’m healthy, 120 if I’m not. After struggling to sell the house and going through a realtor that claimed to be sick than stupidy posted pictures of her on vacation forgetting that Rebecca had her on Fbook (dur) the house eventually sold, leaving me with 40k in debt? It sucks but it’s just money. I also eventually quit my job with Him as I realized our managment style would never line up and I was being taken advantage of etc etc.. about 2 months after I quit he texted me to tell me that everything was great and he got everyone working 80 hours to which I almost went and committed homocide over but I just chose to put down my phone and take a deep breath. There were a lot of times during the house situation that I didn’t know what was coming next. I didn’t know if I was going to be on the street or what. My father kept saying I could live with him then he would back out on that then he would say I could stay for 2 weeks etc etc. It was originally I could stay for 2 years or so and work down the debt at the new job (Working at the same factory he’s a sales person for) then that went down to a year, a couple of months, a couple of weeks a couple of days. I felt he abandoned me again and that made for some really rough nights. I remember crying on the floor of the house one night, looking at my chef’s knife and and almost killing myself. It was the closest I’d ever come to really thinking I was going to do it. Then my step-sister messaged me on fbook, then my mom called. Something I said to the sister must have tipped her off, I was trying to hide it and pretend everything was good but they knew. That phone call saved my life that night.

During that time with the house I dated, because that’s how I healed. I made it very frank on my profile what I was going through and I wasn’t looking for anything serious, just people to talk to and maybe more. I made some good friends through that experience, I met another girl who I got tanked with and then got whiskey dick for the first time. So we cuddled that night and then my father showed up the next morning at 6am to pick me up for work so I made her and him breakfast and he drove her home on the way into work. awwwwwwwwkwarrrrd

But impressive because there’s no way I wasn’t still drunk.

Eventually I got my head on straight, somehow I made it through it, the new job was working out, it was secure and a certain amount of hours and good pay, better than I was making working 120hours with Him. I started to feel human again.

Her

Before the sale of the house I met a girl, I was opening my phone to message her cuz I liked her profile and as I was sending her a message a message popped up from Her. We hit it off, we banged, we have a kid Hey! Alright good night everyone…

No I’m just kidding, what’s another hour of typing, your eyes aren’t bleeding yet are they? Lets see if I can feel my hands tomorrow…

I met this girl, at a Starbucks, she had two drinks because she flirted with the barista and I joked about doing the same because I thought he was pretty cute too. But it was hot cider and that didn’t hold interest to me. Otherwise this story could be very different Eyebrow pump After that (And I’m stealing from my wedding speech here) we walked around the park nearby for 3 hours. And instead of trying to sell ourselves on how great we were, we talked about our flaws and scars and what brought us there, to that moment. What brought her to my city, what brought me to being back on OKCupid and everything that had happened until then. It was 1am when she was like “I’m a little cold, my place isn’t far from here, wanna go hang out for a bit?” So we did, and we watched… Rick and Morty I think it was. It was fun, chill and when she found out I had to walk 2 hours to get back home she felt terrible for keeping me so late but I was a walker so I didn’t care.

We made a date for the next day at noon but I didn’t want to be tied down all day with a maybe (lol) so I made plans after lunch with my mom to go do something… I can’t remember what, I think just hang out with family. Which should really be an indication of how badly I would have taken anything to get away just in case. Always leave them wanting more kids…

Anyway, our second date was funny, it was still relax and chill with lots of walking and talking but then she was like “I’m afraid to kiss you” and I was like “Wat” and she said she really liked me but she was worried there wouldn’t be a spark. But there was and now we have a kid. Just kidding (why can’t this be over oh god no more typing…) Well there was a spark when we kissed, it was great. And she definitely wanted more eyebrow pump So I left her wanting and eventually went over to her place later that night. We made out a lot and wanted to bang but the ‘timing’ wasn’t right, if y’know what I mean… So we waited and hung out a lot more and I made her breakfast at my place and we kinda knew that we were each other’s “One” but we were also very cautious animals so we didn’t really discuss it much.

Although she talks about it now and is like “I kinda wanted to tell you to just keep the place but it was just a little too early” fuuuuuuuck.

After the house dust settled I found a place with my Sister with only a week remaining before the closure of the house. It was close. REAL close. But we made it work for a bit, 2 years I wanna say until a) I was sick of her fucking mess and b) the cost of rent was too high. Long story short on that one, she was left in charge of the admin shit and stole 400 dollars from me as they charged us for last months rent but only cut her a cheque. Fucking bitch. It really burns my ass that she took that money. She just went on a trip to the UK and I had to stop following her on Fbook because it pissed me off so much. I plan to bring it up at every family event to follow. I plan on teaching my daughter about this tretchery. This is a grudge that will last generations! or until I get my money back.

Anyway that’s how that panned out. Then Pam and I moved out, amusingly we moved back into the house that I was renting when Jackie and I were together, The landlord is a great guy but eventually the basement was too damp and we noticed mould was starting to grown on things so we told him and he was like “huh, okay?”

Somewhere in this time I asked Pam to marry me, booked a cruise wedding and knocked her up. It was a good year 2018. So we moved into this place in… March, Pam found out she was preggos at the end of March, our wedding was planned for a cruise but with Pam’s pregnancy it was just over the line of being a viable pregnancy so the cruise was canclled for end of may.

So here’s the coles notes of the next couple of months.

September: Got Married (planned in 3 months! go Team!)
October: Moved into a new place (where we live now, it’s awesome)
November: Pam stopped working due to Labour pain
December 22nd at 4pm Pam was in pain. At 3am that night she couldn’t sleep, at 7am she “Woke” me up (I was not sleeping either) because there was blood.
December 24th 7am, had a 9lbs 20.5’‘ baby (Swolbaby2018)

And that’s life! Have a good night everybody!

(Beat that Drea… I’m just kidding, please don’t)