Photo by CN

This question popped into my head this afternoon: would I write my posts differently if I knew for sure that my daughters, friends, family, or even ex, read them? The answer is simple: no! First of all, I'm posting this to the "world", so it'd be really stupid to assume that they'd never read them. Secondly, and equally important, it wouldn't be honest — I know, novel concept.

I guess it all depends on why one writes. For me writing is part therapy, part exhibitionism, maybe even a bit narcissism. But unless I'd specifically write fiction, the whole point is to be not only truthful, but also careful and sensitive to the fact that my reader maybe someone very close to me. This is especially important when I write about personal topics such as my divorce.

Photo by ML

Where am I? That was my very first thought when I woke up this morning. For a few moments I had absolutely no idea where I was. I looked around the room for some visual clues — it all seemed familiar, all too familiar. But it took a few moments for me to realize that I was in my hotel room in Greensboro, NC.

I travel quite a bit, and this has happened a few times before. I wake up in some hotel room and don't know immediately where I am. What throws me off is that most hotel rooms look so much alike, and many are in fact identical, especially within hotel brands (stay at different Hyatt Place hotels and you'll see what I mean).

Photo by Transguyjay

I have this recurring dream where I have to get from one place to another. The dream always starts the same way: I have figured out that I need to take the car, train, bus, plane, or even a boat to get to my destination. As I start my journey, things start to happen. The train is delayed, or the bus doesn't go where I thought it would, or I can't get to the airport in time, and so on.

When this happens I figure out an alternate way to get where I need to go. Of course, at that point something else happens. My new plan soon falters, and I need to find yet another way, and so on. And while the locations in the dream change, the premise of the dream remains the same: I simple cannot get to my destination, no matter how hard I try. For every solution I find, another problem pops up.

Photo by ML

Feeling a bit apprehensive today. The reason: I'm going to visit my daughters in Greensboro, NC, tomorrow. This is the first time I'm seeing them since they moved from Connecticut. And what makes this even more difficult, is the fact that I've never been to Greensboro.

I have traveled literally around the globe, so going to a new place is in itself nothing new for me. But this is different — this is about spending a weekend with my daughters in their new hometown and I'm the visitor! This is the first time that I'm not taking them some place, but rather they're showing me their new world.

I miss them! I miss them a lot, but I also feel so distant somehow. It used to be that when I traveled, I would come back home to them. Now I travel awayto visit them. Sure, there are the almost daily phone calls, the Skype and IM sessions, and even occasional emails. But it's not the same thing as calling "home" to see how they are.

-martin.

Sofie and Me

— Photo by ML

Sofie is my new best friend. She's not quite 3 years old, is half Pit Bull and half Basenji, and she's some 40lbs of pure muscle. Sofie likes me. How do I know? Well, she didn't eat me when we first met. And now, as soon as she sees me, she gets up on her hind legs with her favorite toy in her mouth ready to play.

I have never owned a dog before, and technically Sofie is not my dog (yet!), but I'm working on it. Sofie's real owner is .. hm .. a very good friend of mine (but that's a another story).

Anyway, the other day we all went to Fairmount Park here in Philadelphia, and as Sofie's new best friend, and as "dog owner in training", I, of course, had the leash. We were walking through the park, sniffing at trees, marking territories .. well, Sofie did. I just held on to the leash, and tried, as best I could, to prevent Sofie from eating just about anything that she thought interesting and/or yummy.

In a Previous Life

— Photo by ML

I had to call "the bank" again today. Usually they call at least twice per day (they really want to talk with you if you owe them lots of money), but this time I actually needed to talk with them. I needed some clarifications regarding the foreclosure process, how a "short sale" works, and so on.

Given the topics that I needed to discuss, my mood was somber, but not emotional. At this point I've talked to "the bank", or more specifically with the "Loss Mitigation Department" (that's a fancy term for debt collector) at "the bank" so many times that I can easily turn the conversation in pretty much any direction I want. I just remain very calm, focused, and business-like.

The process is actually very much impersonal, and you're really just a loan number associated with an asset and a financial risk factor. You never speak with the same person twice, and you really do not gain anything by bringing emotions into the conversations.

Old Life Fighting Back

— Photos by ML and Colodio

Today I was reminded in no uncertain terms that some aspects of my "old" life aren't behind me quite yet. Like a dying monster in a B-movie, they've come back for one final showdown. What happened? Well, I found out that I may go into foreclosure. This is obviously something I've been trying to avoid, not because I want to keep the house, but because a foreclosure in your credit record just takes so much longer to erase.

My divorce completely cleaned me out. It's a bit humiliating to admit, but it's the truth. Having gotten used to the idea, though, it really doesn't bother me that much anymore. I feel that being upset over my circumstances at this point is just a total waste of energy — akin to be being angry at the weather gods.

Photo by Esther G

A few months have passed now since my divorce was finalized. But, as so often is the case, there are still some loose ends that need to be tied up, and this process therefore often requires quite a bit of communication with the now "ex". In my case, this is difficult under the best of circumstances, and it's outright painful when we have to discuss complex issues such as selling the house.

At this point I should probably clarify a few things: my ex and I have not "spoken" with each other in almost two years. There have been a few attempts that quickly ended in one of us — usually me — walking away to avoid a significant blow-up. The truth is that the animosity between us makes it impossible to carry any conversation whether by phone or email (forget in-person or IM) for more than a few sentences before it disintegrates. In fact, we only contact each other if there is absolutely no other way to get that piece of information.