Putting the fun back in dysfunctional

Yes it's been a while since I've written and noticeably absent is anything about my recent mental health drama. Then along came my ankle. I've been waiting to write until I felt things had settled into a rhythm of some sorts so I could tell what was going on.
This is as settled as it gets I suppose and things are pretty calm. Two weeks of leave have helped that considerably but so has my rejecting any and all medications championed by all care providers.

No anti-depressants, no analgesics, no mood enhancers, no sleep remedies, no anti-hypertensives. NO CRAP!

The military reacted to the reports of so many troops suffering from mental health issues with a blitz of resources. Unfortunately, in the effort to help, I got chewed up in the machine and spat out. It wasn't a malicious effort, I believe each provider was doing what they thought would help me. But in the beginning my appointments were about 15 minutes to get in, see a physicians assistant (who was sorely overloaded), state my very complex life, and get a diagnosis. In all that, sometimes they forgot to listen to what I was saying.

I went in for stress issues in the fall of 2007. I walked out of that appointment with Zoloft and with some Ambien to help me sleep. When that didn't do much for me, the dose went up to "reach a therapeutic level". On a follow-up visit a different provider (always!) told me that Ambien taken with anti-depressants can lead to worsening depression. Imagine that.

Somewhere in here I was prescribed Lorazepam (Ativan) to help with the added anxiety I felt with the Zoloft. When that didn't work they switched the Ativan for Alprazolam (Xanax). This led to some other problems to include drinking. Really bad idea especially when you are on benzodiazepines. Of course this only added to my stress from the fallout of all of this.




Back to the doc, again it's a different doc each time so you have to explain everything each time eating up your precious time with the provider who has to figure it all out for a new and improved plan. Also in this time, the efffects of the meds skewed my perspective and I'm buying into the diagnosis. I mean a medical professional told me I was depressed so who was I to argue.

After a ride on Zoloft, I was switched to Celexa and was still on Xanax. Same regimen, see if I tolerate it than increase the dose until I hit the max. I was reassigned in this time frame and this meant I was seen in a different clinic. So guess what? New doc, overview of the past year of care and woe. This guy sent me to a Psychologist at least. The psych listened and decided to just work with some relaxation exercises to start and some follow-up visits after that. After a few visits we discussed a change in meds to deal with anxiety and depression. By this time I was arguing that I wasn't depressed and that my issue was stress, STILL!

This lead to a change in meds. This would prove to be a wild ride. I was switched to Prozac. Started out at 40mg with a Xanax chaser. This is what I went to Utah on. Little wonder I have memory issues with that trip (Not to mention all that happened).

Upon my return, I ended up on 80mg of Prozac and then...hooboy! I started getting more agitated and tense (if you were around me this is not news to you). Everything became a crisis. The docs said it was from PTSD. That the mechanism that controls my adrenaline was broke so it didn't adjust up and down it was just on and off. Whatever the reason, I went from Zero to 100 in the blink of an eye. Prozac and I are not on speaking terms.

This is what lead to the two overdose situations in April and my eventual hospitalization. The best part of this was that they forgot to give me my meds. This is how I found that my meds were causing more problems then they were fixing.

I have been off any and all meds for a couple of weeks now and feel much better and I seem to be back to normal, whatever that is. The biggest problem I have is that no matter how much the Army preaches about taking away the stigma of mental health and seeking help, I now have to overcome most people looking at me sideways like I just escaped from the psych ward. I also have to heal all the wounds in my own family and playing catch-up with everything that dropped to the wayside while daddy went crazy.

Another thing I came to realize is that in every medical discipline, the patient is HIGHLY encouraged to participate in their care. Every discipline EXCEPT mental health. As soon as you ask for help you lose all credibility because you are mentally ill. When I asked a provider a few months back to arrange a multi-discipline appointment where all the various providers involved in my care would be present I was very adamantly shot down. She said they would hold the meeting and then tell me what they decided. Sorry, that's not going to happen. Would you trust a group of people holding a council to decide if what you are saying is true? I mean they couldn't get my initial complaint right with me in the room I'm doubtful they would be any more accurate with me out of the discussion. And I don't want anything to do with a caregiver that will not be completely honest with me.

To give you an idea of how the machine thinks, I was hospitalized twice for an overdose of prescribed medication yet was sent to counseling for alcoholism because wine was present at the second event. Not because I swallowed most of my prescribed meds (which were myriad since no one was really paying attention to the chemical roller coaster they put me on) but because I drank wine with some benzodiazepines. I do have a history of alcoholism I don't deny that, but I have done as well as AA says a person can and until I was riding this train had been dry for quite some time.

I forgot to include the Amitryptiline they gave me with the Prozac. This was to help me sleep with a side effect of assisting in anxiety. There were some other meds in there during the whole time that I left out. These were not related to this experience so much as they were just related to general health like allergy meds, pain relievers, oh yeah, let's not forget in the end I was put on Concerta for ADD as well as three days on Abilify. The Abilify gave me an excruciating headache after the third dose, I began vomiting.

Fun, fun, fun!

I recognize that I am not what most of these providers are used to dealing with. They are more accustomed to dealing with acute PTSD and depression related to combat not with someone dealing with a basically terminally ill child while living the dream in the Army. All I ask is that they listen to the patient before making a diagnosis.

So now you have an overview of what went on for nearly two years before I went down in flames. I am assured that none of the effects of the meds are permanent. I pointed out that I wasn't so sure about that since it affected my professional life as well as my personal life. These effects don't just resolve on their own. If you are among the people I have offended, I apologize profusely. I hope that I have not done anything permanent.

Time may heal all wounds but I wonder how long we are talking here?

What does God look like?

A friend made a comment as we were reminiscing about when "I found God". It's been stuck in my head for a while now. No I haven't been brooding over this like some offended child, I've been thinking about how we all come to meet God in our own way.

I found God but I'm sure He's different from the one you found. The world is filled with faithful followers of many different deities and dogmas. But it is also filled with many who adamantly deny ANY religious belief.

Isn't that a religious belief? That there is no supreme being, no master plan. This mortal existence is all that we have so make the most of it.

So what does God look like to you? I am reminded of a song I heard every year around Christmas about how "..some children see him blonde and fair...some children see him bronze..." So, how does he look to you? Or She for that matter. I will try to keep it neutral but yes, I believe in a Heavenly Father, Eloi, Elohim, etc. This should explain my use of the male pronouns. It in no way is to belittle your faith.

My faith is very important to me as I am sure yours is to you. If it wasn't that important we would have a lot less violence in the world I do recognize that. My faith is one of peace but I reserve the right to defend the freedom to worship as I wish. I also reserve the right to defend yours as well. The trick comes when my freedom to worship/believe offends you and vice-versa.

In the political arena, we have many hot button issues that have people on all sides of the issue fired up and ready to fight, call names, even turn to violence. I shouldn't be surprised but when it comes to publicizing names of who supported what and who made financial contributions, etc haven't we really gone a bit overboard?

By publicizing these facts we seem to be inviting the fringe elements of every twisted variety to act against those spotlighted. In my mind, this IS terrorism. A psychological operation at the grass roots level. When we fear to voice our opinion we have lost our truest freedom. To be heard and our position considered.

In other words, just because God looks different to you doesn't mean how I treat you should change. I believe we are descended of the same Heavenly Father so how can I not have an interest in you as a person? It is only when one tries to take advantage of my tolerance that I become defensive (or offensive as your view may find it) and we begin to have an issue.

I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. It should come as no surprise that I am a staunch supporter of traditional marriage, of the sanctity of life which puts me at odds with abortion, of moral and ethical behavior in all aspects of our life. So does this label me as one of THEM. In contrast, I do not support the same behavior from those whose belief aligns them with my cause(s). Politics make strange bedfellows indeed but I do not wish anyone to fear differing in their views for fear of reprisal. As long as they allow me the same opportunity to differ in my opinion without fear of the same.

So, what does God look like to you?

Mirror, Mirror on the wall

Yes, I've not posted in a while. Yes it was intentional. While they watch me twitch and wiggle on all the different meds they've given me I decided to wait a bit and come down before reentry...get it?

Seriously, I needed to level off before I wrote again. I have offended so many or caused many others to worry as my mood swings this way and that. In reality, these are manifestations of a drug habit...my doctors! They have a habit of putting me on drugs! I thought I had something working here and then I screwed up my ankle. I find out in the morning what wonderful news the discovered in my X-rays and Bone Scans. Not looking forward to it. The news will not be good it will just have varying degrees of bad. This does not sit well with me.

2009 has been wild and I am looking for it to settle down but every time I do, BAM, something else hits me. I reached out for help and it seems to only be adding fuel to the fire. I guess it is to be expected for some chaos to come before the calm but for anyone following this soap opera, am I a whiner or have we been nailed with a Super-sized crap sandwich?

Ok, scratch that last question, I am a whiner. I am petty. I tend to lash out and unfortunately, offend those who do the most to help me through my trials. That would be a good thing to get these docs to work on. Find me a medication that will make me a little less of a jerk. Or have the 'jerk' part of my brain removed or electrocuted or something. Now there's something I could support.

There's a rumor that I need a vacation but I wouldn't know what to do. Not that our family needs a vacation but that I do. I'm thinking of going on a roadtrip on my motorcycle down the coast, through the redwoods, and then what?

Aren't vacations family affairs involving a station wagon, beach balls, and a visit to a national park? Every time we have taken a vacation, we have ended up dealing with an emergency. No joke. Is it any wonder I am afraid to take one?

Cari is in Pennsylvania this week and I am just waiting for the bomb to go off. Not literally, but if history is any indicator, something is about to go wrong. Sometimes if nothing bad does happen, I make it happen. I won't today. That's all I can promise. I did my best to screw up yesterday but hopefully I can make amends for that. In my defense, I was in a great deal of physical pain but that shouldn't matter. See above comment about being petty, etc.

I will have to find a different outlet since a vacation right now wouldn't be prudent. I mean, expense+injury+medication+motorcycle=disaster. Maybe I'll rent a cabin and the family can have a vacation from dad and all the stress that follows him. Probably cheaper and safer. Hmmmm...

Memorial Day 2009

SSG James Patrick Francis - KIA 27 May 1969. My sister Mary gave me this photo of Pat shipping out for Vietnam. This was the last time she saw him alive. I was just over 6 months old when he was killed.



Memorial service for SGT Roberto Arizola - KIA 8 Jun 2005. This photo is of his team leader overcome with emotion as she pays her respects.



Please, Memorial day at 3pm Eastern, stop whatever you may be doing to pause and reflect for a moment on those who have sacrificed their lives. Attend a ceremony at a veterans cemetery. Fly a flag at half staff until 12 noon. Take the time to maintain the graves of those who may no longer have someone to visit and maintain their marker or headstone.

Pray for peace.

You may not support war of any sort but Soldiers see it up close and have a perspective the protected never know.

Most have lost their lives in their youth. All of their hopes and dreams were buried with them. Families left behind mourning as they seek answers for why. For many, these answers never come and for some, peace may never come either. But until all men, everywhere, can agree to live in peace, war will be inevitable.

So please, take this opportunity, tradition holds 1 minute, to pause and reflect on all those who have sacrificed all that they had that you may have the freedoms you enjoy. The freedom to disagree with those we elect. To live as you wish within the laws of the land. The freedom to denounce those who choose to fight for things they believe in.

One minute. It's not much to ask. Not to glorify war, to remember those who have paid to the 'uttermost farthing'.


http://www.usmemorialday.org/observe.htm

	Stevie Ray vaughn - stevie ray vaughn-little wing
	Found at bee mp3 search engine

Mental Veggies - This is good for you but you might like that.

My Thanks to my mom for forwarding me this message. To whomever created it thank you. I hope you don't mind my posting it here. If you do let me know, I will take it off, and blog about what a pinhead you are. Sorry, I am blunt honest like that but I trust that your desire is to get this message out. Same goes for the artists who created this. I am making no money here so cut me some slack. Thanks -SSG Jack G. Francis


To the rest of you, yes there is a theme going on. Enjoy your Hot Dogs and Bratwurst. Over 400,000 stand ready to keep your holiday plans safe.

The Cat is back

http://www.youtube.com/watch/?v+oufVrt7sOC0

After much public outcry (ok, it was just me crying) I have decided to restore my blog for all you voyeurs who wish to live the dysfunctional lifestyle vicariously. I have in the works many entries but my main focus this weekend is a posting for Memorial Day. No Barbecue, no beer bash. A posting memorializing our war dead.


I would hope that some of you might actually go to a nearby National Cemetery and attend a formal service. It should start officially sometime before 3pm when we are supposed to stop and reflect on those who have sacrificed their youth and dreams that you may live yours out in a country that allows you to be what you want.







And no, the monument behind me is not to Bill Clinton. It's the Washington Monument kids

To sleep, per chance, to dream

I slept like the dead last night. I am hoping for a repeat tonight. While I am not med free I am off antidepressants and anxiolytics. I am on a drug called Prazosin and it is for high blood pressure. Funny thing is that this doc up here in Washington found out in the 70's that it works for PTSD by calming victims just enough to let them sleep without making them dopey or making them drug dependent.

Pretty smart doc. He is my doc kind of (now). I am beginning to believe that once I get back to sleeping regularly I will be somewhat normal. You guys remember what that is? I don't think I've ever been normal but that's a good thing. I just don't like being as weird as I have been.

You know you are getting out there when people who stay in touch suddenly drop off the face of the earth. When family forget your number. For future reference, that's when us nutjobs need you to stay in touch the most.

Granted, most of you didn't sign up to save anyone from insanity but you might find that it is a really good feeling. I know I've been there a few times pulling friends back. I've been the one being pulled back (thanks to the many who have been there, done that, got the t-shirt) and it's been more than once. I must like the view because I've seen it a few times. It's easy to blame on my life but is my life the cause or the effect of my mind games?

I try extremely hard to not let my kids end up like me but I think too often I end up driving them in that direction. In many ways, I am conflicted the most about this. I feel that I am a good father. At the same time, I feel I am the worst influence upon my children. Some of you don't know the pain I have caused and you won't find it here. Needless to say, I have been the source of a great many tears in my home.

I have been disfellowshipped. I was Excommunicated for about ten days until a review pointed out that I shouldn't have been. I cannot tell you the pain I felt from that. I have caused my children to weep and be frightened of their father. Not from violence but from psychological crap. When I was all screwed up on some of these meds I became irate with them and showed them pictures of war dead and told them these are the things stuck in my head and then proceeded to blame them for everything that I perceived to be wrong in my life. I honestly feel like just crawling away.

"And I, Moroni, will not deny the Christ; wherefore, I wander whithersoever I can for the safety of mine own life." (Moroni Ch 1:3)

I am weighed down with huge amounts of guilt because I believe in Christ but it would seem that I don't believe him. You see, repentance applies to everyone but me. Others feel this way too but follow along as I explain. I truly believe in Christ but I have to get that through my onion to where I know that I can let all of this guilt go. That it will be ok to FEEL. I relate so well with the woman taken in adultery, caught in the very act (which begs the question where was the man and why did they not drag him to Christ as well?). Christ seemingly ignored them and when their frustration levels were at their highest, he merely replied "let he that is without sin cast the first stone. Being convicted of their conscience, they left one by one from the eldest to the youngest." With just the two of them left, Christ and this woman, he looked up asking "Woman, where are thine accusers? Hath no man condemned thee? She answered, No man, Lord. whereupon he answer neither do I condemn thee. Go, and sin no more" (John 8)

Oh the relief that must have washed over her until she felt joy. I am sure that she sobbed in gratitude. I would. I know I have been forgiven of the worst of my sins but I still have yet to let them go. The haunt me still. Oh that reminds me of a dream. I will write about tomorrow.

My fingers are tired and I have some praying to do. Maybe even for you.

p.s. If you make a comment it goes to my email first where I have to approve it for publishing. Soooo, if you would like to comment but don't want it published just include that in your comment.


Butch

New Med Monday

After getting out of the Psych ward I was off meds (WOOHOO) but after a few weeks of feeling great I had a bad day and they put me on a different class of meds. That lasted until the next week and I got a new class of drug along with an anti-psychotic. I mentioned before what a boost to my self-esteem this was (NOT) but fortunately it only lasted for three days before I was taken off due to some harsh side effects. I was still on the Wellbutrin though. This was started the same Monday as the Abilify that only lasted three days. So, the following monday (today) I got taken off that and out on a hypertension medication (Prazosin) that should let me sleep. Not to be shoved aside, the psychiatrist also started Concerta for AD/HD but told to wait a week before starting it. This is to ensure that we know which med causes what effect.

My goal hasn't changed. Get sleep. Get focused again. Get off meds if possible. If you've been following this odysee you probably think I've completely lost it by now anyway. The truth is I am still fully in touch with reality and in the wisdom of a good friend from way back when; Reality Sucks.

The truth is that all these changes in medications and the ups and downs of my life have made me a truly difficult case to work. As you read through my posts it may be hard to believe that I am not insane. That is actually why the Army is now studying me.

I was reading a printout on suicide prevention while waiting for my shrink today. It has all these risk factors and lists stressful situations that lead to depression and suicide. It has several different categories and I have several from each. No wonder they categorize me as being depressed. They look at these charts and say "you're depressed. Now open up and say ahhh. Take these pills and you'll feel much better."

After a year and a half of following that, all I have to show for it is a downward spiral of performance at work and strained relationships at home and with my friends/co-workers. If you give someone who is not depressed anti-depressants what do you get? I'm betting you get depressed! Throw in some benzodiazepines and you have an opportunity to really go round the bend. Yes, I know, that's where I went.

Thank you for not giving up on me as my emotional roller coaster undulates and twists and turns. Hopefully you laugh with me to find solace in this but also learn that it's a process. I am glad to finally have a team of professionals that I am comfortable working with and that will stay with me until I am back to normal (whatever that is) or completely nuts.

Onions

Shrek: Ogres are like onions.
Donkey: They stink?
Shrek: Yes. No.
Donkey: Oh, they make you cry.
Shrek: No.
Donkey: Oh, you leave em out in the sun, they get all brown, start sproutin' little white hairs.
Shrek: NO. Layers. Onions have layers. Ogres have layers. Onions have layers. You get it? We both have layers.
[sighs]
Donkey: Oh, you both have layers. Oh. You know, not everybody likes onions.

Much like Shrek, I have layers it seems. The trick now is to peel off the layers I have spent a lifetime wrapping my self in to guard against anyone seeing my true emotions. I'm a rock, at least that's what I'd like you to believe.

As a kid many things terrified me but nothing more than someone seeing how scared I was. I would do almost anything to hide how truly frightened I was. Not much has changed since then. I stuff my emotions down deep. No time to deal with them because there is too much going on. Crying does nothing to fix the problem. That is part of my problem. I get so fixated on the issue before me that I don't deal with things emotionally. At least, I think that's what the shrinks will tell you.

So now after 40 years of not processing things emotionally I am a bit apprehensive about peeling back the layers. I took a band-aid off Zach's cut today. I grabbed one corner and ripped it off in one fell swoop. Zach was shocked and in pain. I asked him if he would have rather had me pull it off slowly and prolong the agony. He thought about it while I pulled the steri-strips off, yep you guessed it, rip, rip rip. That's how I look towards peeling the layers back.

It's gonna hurt now matter how we do it. If I didn't want to deal with it then, what makes anyone think I am going to want to deal with it now? That's what music is for. Expressing from the soul what words fail to.

Now you know why I love so many different types of music. I am emoting through music and lyrics. My psychologist asked about my blogging and asked if this wasn't for those who read it. That I am writing this for you, the reader. I answered that I thought not. It seems to me that this is for me so I don't have to watch as people see what I am saying. It distances me from my emotions so I don't have to deal directly with them. Or you for that matter. I am great at helping others with their emotions but don't even think about mine! I will crack a joke when I feel emotions coming on. That's 'how we do.'

Yes, it a defensive mechanism developed over my lifetime and it will take some serious work to overcome it. But do I really want to? I mean it isn't healthy but it's gotten me through all this stuff that others tell me they wouldn't be able to deal with. Maybe they would just be like me. That's a scary thought. More like me in the world? I know they are out there. I am raising a batch of them now. My kids look to me in crisis to know how to act. That is my major motivation in this. I don't want my kids to be like me. I want them to learn from me and avoid the pitfalls I have climbed in and out of. Of course, they will make their own mistakes but hopefully it will be at a different level and not the same old ones I keep making.

Good luck kids!

I guess I've babbled long enough. Caitlin is calling me too.

I hope this soothes those who were wondering if I was ok when I didn't add anything after saying I was going off meds. I am fine. Feeling better but I have one more med to drop. I promised I wouldn't make changes without discussing it with the docs.

Good night.

Stop the bus. I'm getting off.

Tonight will be short. These meds are making me sick so I am not taking them any longer. The cure is worse than the illness. I have an excrutiating headache, nausea, vomiting, and I just plain feel yucky.

Getting off meds was my goal. Still is so I called the doc and told him what was going on. I will focus on addressing my issues without medication.

Now I have to go puke.

Goodnight and have a pleasant tomorrow...

Jimi Hendrix Had it Right.

Jimi Hendrix had it right.

Manic Depression's a frustrating mess. As I read over my posts I watch myself swinging wildly up and down with no rhyme or reason as to why most days. Chemical imbalances can really skew your vision. And medicine changes on a regular basis make me feel like a pharmaceutical junkie.

I spent today feeling both exhausted and restless at the same time. Jittery of sorts but just plain tweakin'. Did I mention all the while trying to work?

I read the news today (oh boy) about the Soldier who snapped and killed five other servicemembers. I wonder how many different meds he's been on? I wonder how many around him saw the warning signs but dismissed them because 'he was just trying to get out of Iraq.' How many added to the problem instead of working on a solution.

I'm no where near this so don't freak about me blogging about it. 17 years of watching leaders at work, and Soldiers manipulating the system, leaves me wondering how do we fix this. I have a personal stake in it as I work around these people.

I care about these people. When I read the stories of Soldiers deaths, woundings, and issues such as this, I am reminded that 'but for the grace of God go I.'

This is someones son. His victims had families. They are just as dead as those killed by insurgents bombs and sniper fire. This will have lasting effects on those who witnessed his assault.

This is an example of what the true signature wound of this war will be; psychological trauma.

Side Effects May Vary

As promised, Monday brought me back to the psychiatrist and he stopped my Effexor XR and started me on Welbutrin and Abilify. The Welbutrin is an anti-depressant but the Abilify is an antipsychotic. Talk about improving my self-esteem. Now, I'm not only depressed, I'm psychotic!

Abilify is a psychotropic drug used to treat schizophrenia and certain symptoms of bipolar disorder. It is also used along with other medicines to treat depression...

That's what the paper says but I think he just thinks I'm crazy!

Today was spent pretty much in appointments related to my recent hospitalization. I am sick of appointments. I guess it beats working for a living!

40 years of insanity takes a while to sort out so it's a team effort. I guess I need to have a talk with my siblings who had me listening to everything from Alice Cooper, Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, Frank Zappa, and then for a twist we always had Abba, The Carpenters, Captain and Tenille and all the other 70's love stuff.

Oh, and then there was Barry Manilow. He writes the songs you know...at the Copa Cabana even.

Yeah, I think that definitely has something to do with my mental health. That reminds me, I also grew up listening to Hair Bands...Quiet Riot Metal Health anyone? And we thought we looked cool like that.

All in all, even though it was Monday, it wasn't bad. Even got in a group therapy session that let me know that my situation is far better than some others have it. I guess that makes me feel better knowing that some poor guy is sucking worse. Not quite sure why though. I guess just because it makes us realize that life is good so stop feeling sorry for ourselves.

You Talk Too Much

I know it's Mother's Day but I have too many instances of this topic in a 24 hour period. Maybe if I address it here, it will have some therapeutic value.

I talk too much. No, I'm not a 'great conversationalist" or an eloquent public speaker. I just plain can't shut my mouth once it opens.

Sometimes I am very quiet and you might not know this side of me. Be glad, be very glad if this is you.

Once I get to yappin', jaws a flappin', I become boorish. Much like my blog but it's harder to navigate away from me in person. I even recognize that I am talking too much but it's like my jaw is possessed and is running on autopilot.

This gets me into trouble at times too. You know, don't know when to shut up. TMI (Too Much Information) or foot in mouth syndrome. My wife calls me on it and then I know I'm in trouble. I've never had a problem sharing my opinion or vast knowledge of trivial facts with anyone whether they cared to hear them or not. We all have character defects and this is one of a suitcase full of mine.

Last night we had a great Mother's day eve dinner. The restaurant is called Marzano (I'll be writing about it separately) and is in Parkland. Outstanding food!

As we are leaving I had to comment on the conversation I was eavesdropping on at the next table. It was two older couples and working their second bottle of wine so hearing wasn't too much of an issue for us.

This simple comment turned into a conversation of over 45 minutes. When you get a couple of democrats pretty well lubed on vino and a very conservative military blabber-mouth, it's a recipe for conversational disaster.

If only I could shut my mouth. If only I could keep my opinions to myself. If only I knew more about what I was talking about BEFORE I started sharing my knowledge!


I think George Thoroughgood was singing about someone like me (You Talk Too Much). I am just like the talking heads I despise. At least they get paid to yammer.

I don't see it changing anytime soon so just try to avoid me.



I too am brimming with crap.

GOP Bailout Plan

Cracker - From Teen angst (what the world needs now)

"I don't know what the world may need,
but I'm sure as hell that is starts with me.
And that's a wisdom,
I've laughed at."

I caught some news today. I've been trying to avoid it because it annoys me. The main subject was the GOP(Republicans) and what they need to do to 're-invent' themselves. Everyone has weighed in; Dick Cheney, Rush Limbaugh, William F. Buckley's son (That's how they kept referring to him as) and other talking heads.

That reminds me. What makes these guys experts? None of them actually work. I mean, do these wealthy predominately white men really have any clue what 'Joe the Plumber' really worries about? Do they know what it feels like to juggle a budget between house payment, car payment, school clothes, health insurance (that one usually gets left out) food, braces, and all the stuff that he has to buy for school since schools can't afford the stuff we used to just get.

Do they live with the dejected look in your child's eyes when you explain to them that you can't get something they need because it's not in the budget? Or that their birthday will not quite be the social event they imagined since you've got about $10 to cover the cake and present combined?

Of course, now we have tech in classes and we have to spend a LOT of money on security because kids can't act right but that's another rant. My experience with public school recently caused me to pull my kids out. The teachers spend more time dealing with discipline than they do education. My kids were coming home with a days worth of schoolwork. What did they do in school?

So what does the GOP need to do to reinvent itself? What do all politicians need to do in my opinion? It's called integrity. It means do what you say, say what you do.

Live the way you espouse others to. According to the laws which you pass. Do things because they are right not because it is politically expedient.

Spend time actually representing the people who voted you into office instead of immediately building your war chest for re-election.

Take away the perk of getting a forever pension for a part-time job. That way you might actually have to work for a change. You might have to live with the mess you leave behind. You might lose your life savings to your cronies who screwed up corporate America.

You might grow a freakin' conscience!

This rant is not just for the Grand Old Party. It's for all the politicians we have. Where are the statesmen? Set aside what will get you and your greedy little bastard buddies rich and do the right thing.

REPRESENT THE AMERICAN PEOPLE! YOU WORK FOR US NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND!

GET YOUR HANDS OUT OF MY POCKET BEFORE YOU LOSE SOMETHING.

I can only Imagine

Caitlin has been with us thirteen years now. That is thirteen years longer than she was expected to live. She has taught us so much about ourselves and about the many people we come into contact with.

She wasn't supposed to leave the hospital. She did. Then she wasn't supposed to live to see two years old.

She did.

Now she is looking at fourteen in September. We have been up and down with her but we have always viewed her as a blessing, never a burden. Some days have been tougher than others true, but she has always loved us and through that, showed us how much our Heavenly Father loves and cares for each of us.

How you ask? The service of others. Pure and simple miracles in her health.

When doctors have done all they can and they stand back scratchng their heads looking scared and baffled she has continued to live. She wants to be here.

You see, we all have our free agency, even Caitlin. She exercises that through her desire to stay with us, or return to her Heavenly Father. She seems to still have something to do for she has had ample oppotrunity to leave.

And yet she stays. It is nothing we are doing though many give us the credit. Medicine has been a huge part of her life, but doctors know that statistically, she shouldn't be here.

And yet she stays. She has been through so much. When we lived in the south, so many would stop us and ask if they could pray over our child. We didn't ask what faith they practiced. We let them. So many have been moved by her, touched by her. She shares a testimony that few have in a way that even fewer can.

You see, she inspires in others the Spirit of Christ through service, through compassion, through pure love.

The Name Caitlin is Gaelic. It is actually pronounced much like Kathleen (it's also where the name Kathleen comes from) but more importantly is what it means. It means Pure in Heart.

"Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God." More importantly to me, is wht she shows others. What she teaches others. Compassion, love, service. She has the ability to break down hearts and get inside.

Yes, she is daddy's girl. More correctly, daddy is hers.

I do look forward to the day when we can talk for as any teenage girl, she probably has an earful for her daddy!



"I Can Only Imagine"

I can only imagine
What it will be like
When I walk
By your side

I can only imagine
What my eyes will see
When your face
Is before me
I can only imagine

[Chorus:]
Surrounded by Your glory, what will my heart feel
Will I dance for you Jesus or in awe of you be still
Will I stand in your presence or to my knees will I fall
Will I sing hallelujah, will I be able to speak at all
I can only imagine

I can only imagine
When that day comes
And I find myself
Standing in the Son

I can only imagine
When all I will do
Is forever
Forever worship You
I can only imagine

[Chorus]

I can only imagine [x2]

I can only imagine
When all I will do
Is forever, forever worship you

Joey - A Song About a Drunken Love

Concrete Blonde Joey

Joey, baby - dont get crazy
Detours. fences... I get defensive
I know youve heard it all before -
So I dont say it anymore
I just stand by and watch you
Fight your secret war.
Although I used to wonder why -
I used to cry till I was dry.
Still sometimes I get a strange pain
Inside
Oh, joey, if youre hurting so am I.

Joey, honey - I got some money
All is forgiven. listen, listen
And if I seem to be confused
I didnt mean to be with you.
And when you said I scared you,
Well I guess you scared me too.
But we got lucky once before
And if youre somewhere out there
Passed out on the floor.
Oh joey, I'm not angry anymore.


Ok, it's me now
Oh the lives that would be so much different if some of us could say no. Have a little self-control. Johnette really lays it out here.

Yes, I love this song and Concrete Blonde.

Me and Pink. Best of friends

The Trial (Pink Floyd's The Wall)

Crazy,
Toys in the attic I am crazy,
Truly gone fishing.
They must have taken my marbles away.
Crazy, toys in the attic he is crazy.

Beauty and the Beast:

LeFou, I'm afraid I've been thinking
A dangerous pastime
I know
But that whacky old coot is Belle's father
and his sanity's only "so-so"
Now the wheels in my head have been turning
Since I looked at that loony, old man


ok, so maybe my sanity is only so-so but I am still lucid enough to type so why not watch a spectacular meltdown...

Sorry, it won't be spectacular. No fireworks or raving lunatic. I'll just wimper and whine and run away with my tail between my legs leaving a trail of piddle as I go.

Not gonn'a happen. I've talked about the roller-coaster from hell that I am on. Three days ago I had my arms in the air screaming like a pre-teen at a Hannah Montanna show. Last night I hit the bottom...time to climb. So this is the boring part.

But when you hit the bottom, you stomach feels all funny and you wanna puke.

That pretty much describes today so the doc called me in and put me on some Effexor XR. I am hoping this is just a cushion from the high dose of Prozac I was on. Let's hope.

The other diagnosis is AD/HD like I said before so what will those meds (if any...you can bet there will be meds. It's the Army) do to me?

Anyone out there over the age of say compulsory school on anything for this? Most of it sounds like amphetamines.

Aren't those bad? Was I self-medicating with meth all those years ago?

TMI

Well, isn't that what my blog's all about? So you don't have to laugh with me. You can laugh and point at me!

Seriously, this is where I dump my trash. Some days the rubbish bin (English term Yanks) has more crap than others. So don't worry, I'll find a happy cocktail of chemicals until I can go free-ballin'....I mean, chemically independent.

Ahh, we all have our addictions. Here in the Northwest, you can't go a block without finding three coffee stands, two where the Baristas are wearing bikinis (sounds cool but when it's a hairy chested guy it isn't what you think). I have my soda addiction. Smoking, whatever you're burning, is up to you.

Well, enough venting. let me finish watching Robots and take my Haledol....JUST KIDDING! But I am watching Robots.

Who Killed Mr. Moonlight?

Minor Set-back today. Later in the day my mood started to dive so the doc put me on some new meds for a short time. I guess a little something to ease the transition? A bit discouraging for me as I was feeling so much better and in the matter of three days, took a nosedive.

It wasn't a short trip to where I was when I needed meds, I can't imagine it will be a fast-track back either. I have been thoroughly surprised by the effect of chemicals on the brain. Subtle changes make for huge shifts in perception.

Let's see how things change...

Who Killed Mr. Moonlight by The Bauhaus

Consider green lakes
And the idocy of clocks
Someone shot nostalgia in the back
Someone shot our innocence

A broken arrow in a bloody pool
The wound in the face
Of midnight proposals
Someone shot nostalgia in the back
Someone shot our innocence

In the shadow of his smile
In the shadow of his smile
In the shadow of his smile
In the shadow of his smile

All our dreams have melted down
We are hiding in the bushes
From dead men
Doing Douglas Fairbanks' stunts

All our stories burnt
Our films lost in the rushes
We can't paint any pictures
As the moon had all our brushes

Extracting wasps from stings in flight
Who killed Mr. Moonlight?
Who killed Mr. Moonlight
In the shadow of his smile
Who killed Mr. Moonlight
In the shadow of his smile

'nuff Said

This picture captures so many things for me. My pride in my daughter; her beauty, her eternal worth, her laughter and sense of humor in the twinkle in her eye. I can see she has sense of how special she is. She is not my daughter. She is a daughter of a Heavenly King. I was only entrusted with her to this point.

The setting, Union Station in Tacoma, also shows she is traveling soon. She was married the next day. Now she is no longer mine but she is her own and has begun her own story with Seth. So there is sadness for me in this as well as joy.

A father's life is such that if he does a good job he can look with pride as he cries and waves goodbye.

I never cry ;)

Trust

Who do you trust? Are you jaded and cynical? Can you trust? Does everybody lie? Do you put up a wall to keep from getting hurt? Does the wall protect you, or hurt you?

Trust is something not easily earned and when earned to be treasured.

Trust lost is almost impossible to get back...trust me I know (ooh, bad timing for that phrase).

I went to a psychology appointment today. At the end I asked where sarcasm comes from because it's genetic in my family. My shrink didn't get to explain much but I do remember cynicism and hurt (coming from a trusted source) being in there.

Trust doesn't mean much today it seems. The word is thrown around a lot. Ever listen to a politician? They use the word a lot. Do we trust them? I don't but I am a cynic so the question is, who does? They keep getting elected. We pick the guy who will screw us the least in our eyes (in my eyes).

But how are your personal relationships? Do you easily trust people? Are people basically good? Will they do what they say they will? Will I?

A lot of people are trusting me to stick with this plan for rehab. My history is not one that should inspire trust. So why do they? Is it because I can smile and talk a good game? To others, my words are all I have to assure them. My actions back up what I say but we are talking a long history of changing my mind.

Am I just 'running for office' so to speak? Do I trust myself?

Whoa! Where'd that come from? That's a crucial question. Do I trust myself? Do I think I will do what I say I will? Do I think it's important to stick to what I say? Can I deviate from the plan?

When I got out of 5 North, I spoke with one of my bosses. I talked about what my plan was, what I was thinking. The next day when I deviated from that I found out it wasn't me talking about what I thought I should do, it was me committing to what I was going to do. Unfortunately, I didn't understand that and I got some others into a bind.

My actions often affect many others, but I still look at things from my perspective. I can't read minds. I can read non-verbal cues pretty good but I still get it wrong.

No one ever gets it right all the time so I shouldn't be surprised. But I get it soo wrong so many times that you'd think I'd be a little more cautious about relying on my perceptions.

My family is the one I am most concerned with and the one where I have the worst track record. I guess that just comes from shots on goal percentage. Most other people aren't around me nearly as much to get the amount of disappointment my family has been through.

Before I get beat up by those who feel I am too hard on myself, yes, I have redeeming qualities but trust is fundamental to relationships so all those qualities don't matter if you lose trust.

Are there varying degrees of trust? Can you be trusted on one hand or with some things and not with others? Is it trust me or don't trust me?

I don't know. I'm asking here? I'm jaded and cynical. I don't trust anyone!

Ok, I do trust some people. But definitely not politicians...especially Chicago politicians ;)

The Cure - Trust

There is no-one left in the world
That I can hold onto
There is really no-one left at all
There is only you
And if you leave me now
You leave all that we were
Undone
There is really no-one left
You are the only one

And still the hardest part for you
To put your trust in me
I love you more than I can say
Why won't you just believe?

I'M YOUR DISEASE

I hate meetings. I hate Higher Power. I hate anyone who has a program. To all who come in contact with me, I wish you death and I wish you suffering.

Allow me to introduce myself. I am the disease of Alcoholism or Drug Addiction.

Cunning, baffling, and powerful. That's me. I have killed millions, and I am pleased. I love to catch you, with the element of surprise. I love pretending I am your friend and lover. I have given you comfort, have I not? Wasn't I there when you were lonely? when you wanted to die, didn't you call me? I was there.

I love to make you hurt. I love to make you cry. Better yet, I love when I make you so numb you can neither hurt nor cry. You can't feel anything at all. This is true glory. I will give you instant gratification and all I ask of you is long term suffering. I've been there for you always. When things were going right in your life, you invited me. You said you didn't deserve these good things and I was the only one who would agree with you.

Together we were able to destroy all things good in your life.

People don't take me seriously. They take strokes seriously, heart attacks, even diabetes they take seriously, fools that they are. They don't know that without my help, these things would not be made possible.

I am such a hated disease. And yet, I do not come uninvited. You choose to have me. So many have chosen me over reality and peace.

Mare than you hate me, I hate all of you, who have a 12 step program. Your Program, your meetings, your Higher Power. All weaken me and I can't function in the manner I am accustomed to.

Now I must lie here quietly. You don't see me, but I am growing, bigger than ever. When you only exist, I may live. When you live, I only exist, but I am here...And until we meet again.

When we meet again --- I wish death and suffering.

This is not my creation. I got it in group today. I see so much of me and my life in it.

Group Therapy

Sorry. No catchy music to run through your head as you read. No songs that I felt appropriate for this subject. No, Amy Winehouse, absolutely not!

Today was group therapy with ASAP. An hour and a half of sharing and learning from each other and the staff. It was definitely a positive experience for me. It's a small group setting so I didn't feel like I was part of a crowd. I'd bet there's a reason for that. We also get homework and if you know me you know how much I love homework (blechhh). But my motivation is stronger now than before so there is an obvious benefit to it all.

I have become concerned with all the others that are out there. It is said that Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI) is the signature wound of this war. So many are living through what would have killed them in times past but the noggin is tough, the brain is soft and spongy (don't try reaching in and finding out please).

I'm no statistician but to me I see more Soldiers addicted to prescription medications than those with TBI. I thought I had TBI until I got off the meds. To me the signature 'wound' of this war will be drug addiction, alcohol abuse, eventually suicide for some. And all of these will be preventable. 100%

True, some will be more determined than others but here is where I make my case.

In the Army we PMCS everything. Preventive Maintenance, Checks, and Services. EVERYTHING! Why don't leaders at every level PMCS their Soldiers?

Until the stigma of mental health issues and substance abuse is wiped away, Soldiers will hide their problems. They will smile and say all is well because they don't want to be labeled a 'dirtbag' 'malcontent' 'malingerer' or a lot of other things I won't even write.

The higher the rank, the less likely they will seek help in any forum that may be perceived as weakness.

So we self-medicate. We distract ourselves with activity; extreme sports is the latest distraction. Adrenaline replaces the rush of combat. It also acts as a drug for those who are trying to avoid alcohol or other drugs.

Extreme sports are not the problem. The same could be said of alcohol or prescription meds. They are not the problem. Abuse is the problem. I don't have a drinking problem. I don't have drug problem. I have an addiction problem.

Some drink, others take meds, and there is no calamity in their life because of it. But so many do and I am one of millions.

Whether it is street drugs, prescription meds, or alcohol, the underlying problem is the same: Addiction. Something becomes so important to you that you are willing to throw everything else away to keep it. And I think to truly qualify, there needs to be some harm involved in continuing down the path it leads.

I'm no medical professional it's just how it seems to me after 40 years of being on, in, under, over, or around addiction. I frequently learn that I am wrong about things so check with a real doctor before you decide I'm right and chuck your meds out the window.

That reminds me. I had two appointments today. One with ASAP, the other with my Psychiatrist. The shrink says I have AD/HD. Ok, I can live with that but he said something that also came up at group. I am always down on myself.

Why is it that if I say something perceived as negative by most, I am being too hard on myself? I have been through a lot. My perception is different. I am grateful for adversity. I do not glory in what I have accomplished because I've been carried my whole life. Sometimes by friends, sometimes by family, sometimes by strangers, sometimes by angels. I do not meet all that I have alone. Ever. Does that mean I am mentally ill?

Any accomplishment is not mine. The mistakes, now that's me in action on my own. The doc would get on me about this but does my faith make me depressed? Can't I be grateful to a higher power. Does lack of pride signal mental illness? Is humility a disease? I believe that science and religion can coexist as I have said before. Why can't I just be the means through which God answers someones prayer? Why can't my going through these things and smiling give another strength?

Why can't there be a God who loves us but works through us not for us or against us?



p.s. I found a song to go with my group therapy theme of distracting ourselves. It's by the Violent Femmes and I include it below.


I know it's true, but I'm sorry to say

I know it's true, but I'm sorry to say
yesterdays a day away.
Nothing I can do to make it stay like that.
Ain't that a fact.

I know it's true, but I'm sorry to say
I just can't handle things this way.
I know it's late, but I'd like to stay a while, see you smile.

Will you meet me in the morning, with sun fresh on the dew?
Will you meet me in the afternoon, made just for me and you?
Will you meet me in the evening, when the nighttime starts to crawl?
Will you meet me in the hall?
Will you meet me on the wall?
Will you meet me at all?

One more time, one more time.
Shaking up and down my spine.
Jump a rope or skip a line or two.
What can I do?

One more time, one more time.
Color flashing neon signs.
Advertising a friend of mine's distraction, latest attraction.

Oh my body has been punished.
Lord, I think I've had enough.
Oh my body has been punished
with too much and not enough.
Oh my body has been punished
and my mind can no longer bluff.
My mind is so unkind, my mind is so unkind.
It keeps me crying all the time.

I know it's true, but I'm sorry to say
yesterdays a day away.


Gordon Gano: Guitar, Lead Vocal
Brian Ritchie: Bass ,Celeste
Victor Delorenzo: Drums,Vocals
Mark Van Hecke: organ

Boy's don't cry

Ok, thank you Robert Smith and the Cure (or is The Cure? Seems we could use one) for tonights title. This really is me just reflecting on the week past. Don't look over your shoulder. Something might be gaining on you. Nahhhh!

So I got out of the psych ward about 10 days ago and it's been two weeks since I had any Prozac. I also have taken very few Klonopin since being released for sleep. The fluoxetine levels in my blood should be down to about 20mg from the 80mg that I was at when I last took a dose. That does it for the science for now.

I cannot believe how differently things look now compared to the 18th when Cari and I fought.

I really cannot believe how different they are from the 19th when I started eating benzodiazepine party mix on the 19th. Life seemed to be just too hard that night. I wanted to anesthetize myself without a license (or the proper substance, setting, or reason) and wake up to a different reality.

If only life were like that. Sleep and wake up to a reset. That won't happen with or without chemicals.

I feel like I have lost a year and a half and I have lost so much more with my family that I have to try to rebuild. I also feel like a new man. Much like I did in 1988 when I quit doing street drugs. Perhaps even more so because now I see my problem was more than what I was taking, it was why.

It wasn't how much I was taking (which then was considerable), but that I felt a need to find something to fill that void, to soothe that pain. In reality, it only added to the pain and made the void that much larger.

So for 21 years I have had what I call "slips", "hiccups", or "I stumbled" in my recovery when in reality I hadn't recovered at all. I only controlled it very well (most of the time).

I could usually point to some stressor to explain why I did it. Sometimes I didn't bother and I always promised "never again" would I let myself get into a position of...

It took a lot to break me down to this point and I am not even at the start line yet. I just got issued my bib number. So I am reflecting on what I have done this week since I started this blog as an outlet for my thoughts and feelings as I go through the process of becoming a recovering substance abuser (I can't limit it to alcohol even though the drugs were as prescribed for the most part.)

Wow! Just that statement causes me to think of the abuse my wife and children have been subjected to just in witnessing me all these years. I would venture to say that there is more than Caitlin's health issues behind the stress they feel each day.

Ok, I shouldn't add to my woe. Focus! Focus! One guilt trip at a time.

So what have I done this week to change? How am I better than two weeks ago?

Monday: Went to Psychology appointment and discussed how I was feeling after the weekend following my discharge. Felt great (Feeling even beter now) and discussed the follw-up plan for the short term future.

Tuesday: A.M. Went to my intake appointment for the Army Substance Abuse Program (ASAP). Learned a lot and got LOT'S of homework. Also needed to schedule a 'part 2' since I talk a lot (ok it was really because there were so many questions to answer). Really like the counselor I am working with. Very thorough and aware of a great many things to help in recovery that I would have never thought of asking about.

P.M Marriage Counseling through LDS Social services. Next week, I keep my mouth shut unless asked for something and let Cari talk. I didn't mean to control the conversation, I was just filling in the setting.

Wednesday: Went to Psychiatry to discuss same as above and begin assessing what, if any, meds I should be taking. Also discussed how fluoxetine is eliminated from my body and that I was fine not taking another pill unless we felt I needed to get back to a certain blood level. Also decided to be seen by the Psychiatrist that worked with me during my trip to the Ward.

Thursday: Went to Tacoma Human Services for a program that seems like an incentive to stick with treatment. It helps with everyday things other than treatment to support your efforts.

Friday: It was a beautiful day that threw me off track as I look back. I was feeling so good that I didn't check the schedule for AA meetings. I'm gonna catch it for that. I "self-medicated" with date night that I previously wrote about. Have to watch out for the dangers of feeling good. Wouldn't have thought a great day would sabotage my recovery.

Saturday: Didn't do a thing productive in any regard. A day wasted is a day well-spent!

Sunday: This day is my day of rest usually but of course, to me it belongs to the Lord. Today was spent in those pursuits. I file this under journaling so that my posterity (and the rest of the world) can read it.

All things considered, a week of activity but I have much to make up for as well. I need to get into the habit of setting goals for the week ahead and what I need to do to obtain them. Being a bit of a nut job all my life, I always made it up as I went along. No wonder I'm not a General yet (that and I'm not a college grad...yet)!

Ok, enough babble.

My week has been the best one I have had in a long time. I feel better than I have in two years at least as far as day to day is considered. Wonder what life will be like completely without anti-depressants and anxyiolitics? I truly hope to find out here in a couple of weeks.

So, as to the title. I picked that one because since being released I have felt phenomenal...except for a few exceptions. One glaring memory is that of just being overcome with everything as my mind started to clear and some horrible memories came back. I had been online writing I think and I was reminded of that Kenny Chesney song/video I posted "The Good Stuff" and I stopped and watched it.

That wiped out a streak for me. You see, I truly do seldom cry. I feel pain, sadness, remorse, guilt, anguish and any other feeling associated with crying you can think of. I mean I do have feelings contrary to popular opinion. But I seldom cry.

I call my Mom a duck. She doesn't show much emotion but I know she is feeling it. She takes it to the Lord I'm sure from advice she has given me, but I call her a duck for this reason; a duck is calm and serene on the top of the water, but kickin' like crazy beneath the surface.

That's me too.

So back to 'the good stuff'. As I watched that it brought back a flood of memories. Like my life flashing before my eyes in a sense of every horrible thing I have said or did to my wife particularly. I went over to her and gave her a hug and before I knew it I was bawling like the maternity ward.

The tears of years of emotion shoved aside to deal with the never ending stream of emergencies and situations, oh and combat, came out all at once. I couldn't stop wailing and sobbing for 15-20 minutes it seemed.

In the midst of this I let go of Cari and got down on my knees to pray and it just kept coming. A fountain of pent up guilt, frustration, and just plain blues, came flying out of me. Probably soaked the couch cushion!

So, Bob, I beg to differ. Maybe Boy's don't cry, but men do.

Date Night

100_4918
Originally uploaded by zaedah

Every friday night we have date night. We try to do this no matter the circumstances even if all we do is get out of the house and go somewhere; the library, a burger stand, a walk, something to remember why we got married.

This Friday was therapeutic as well as fun. We went for a ride on the bike. About 100 miles through backroads. No destination in mind just a ride. We used Mount Ranier as a point of reference and the marvelous sunshine we had as a watch. When we came to an intersection I'd ask "left or right?" and away we'd go.

I'll not rave about all the scenery and greenery this time for those jealous souls who don't have such things but I will say that it was just an incredible time getting lost with my wife.

She was a real sport as the passenger seat is not a very comfortable perch. It's narrow and fairly rigid and unyielding. We keep meaning to find something more Butt-friendly.

This way and that across the countryside until we stopped for a snack at a gas station to stretch our legs and give Cari's glutes a chance to decompress! We decided to keep riding and go out to dinner. So we got our bearings and headed west. The plan was to end up in Olympia for dinner and hit the Oyster House restaraunt.

The shear joy of just the two of us motoring about was my favorite part but I like to ride. We did finally end up in Olympia in a round-about manner. It's said if you don't care where you are going you might not like where you end up. In this case though, it was quite a suprise. We ended up at Anthony's in Olympia. It's right on the water and we still had a good amount of sunshine left so we decided that Anthony's it would be.

When we walked in I thought, geez, that hostess looks real familiar. When she smiled it was a dead giveaway; it was my 'niece'. I say it like that because we are so close in age so it feels kind of strange to say that I am her uncle. When she introduced me as such to her coworkers, I thought it sounded so strange. I mean cousin seems more appropriate as my wife commented. But Uncle Jack it is. Or is it Uncle Butch?

I'll have to ask her.

Anway, after dinner it was back on the bike for the ride home and quick it was. You see, I had to make it home before Cari got cold! Not to mention how much fun it is to blast up the interstate!

Yep, date night rocks always. This one was exceptional for many reasons.

Hmmm, kind of leaves me in a pinch for next week. I mean now the expectations will be so high...

Lillian Campground Aug '07

100_5629
Originally uploaded by zaedah

It's hard to believe that it's been so long since Dillon and I were on this trip on the Olympic pennisula. This pic just takes me back to just how beautiful it is up here. So much to do in a short space. I can deal with the rain when I think of all that's here.

Good picture for a rainy day like today.