Miserable Bastard
2004-03-29,

I sure can be a miserable bastard sometimes.

The particular time to which I refer was Friday afternoon/evening, heading into the Li�l Abner cast party. I don�t know what my problem was, but my fuse was short and I was feeling completely humorless. There were a number of times when I just wanted to get up and out of the party, but H successfully guilted me into staying, which was for the best, really. My foul moods rarely last for long and this was certainly no exception. While it lasted, however, I was unpleasant to be around at best. I had no ability to make conversation, which is always fun when you�re at a social gathering; all the noises, including squealing children, were making my brain shrink back in my skull; absolutely nothing was funny, and everything that went even the slightest bit wrong was blown up to a �ruin everything� moment.

But I recovered. By the time the speechifying was done, I was back to my sparkly-fun self. [Editor�s Note: apparently, �speechifying� is a proper word, according to MS Word spell checking. Go figure.] According to two of the ladies involved in the show (a former Miss Ohio, I�m lead to understand, though I�ve not been able to unveil any proof of this via web so far), there�s a tradition in ShowBiz (the community theatre group) of giving �awards� to all participants, in the form of certificates, commemorating something memorable that happened involving or about the participant. Mine, rather than being the �Smeagol� award, or the �it�s not easy being green� award (a hokeyness which I would have expected), I got the �Jim Carrey� award, for some rather memorable facial expressions during the performance. I have to admit I was flattered. I guess they really did like me. Once again, I underestimate myself. Go figure.

Girls are funny. There was this one early teenager (14, maybe 15) in the show, named Dana (who did not get the �there is no Dana, only Zuul� reference, leaving me to feel old) who obviously had a crush of some sort on me. I was nice to her, but not too nice. It�s situations like this that give a man a chance to consider the potential depths of his evil side, if not explore them. That was never a consideration. It would certainly be easy enough for someone to do, assuming the desire for power over another person was present. I�m not the dominating type. Controlling, yes; dominating, no. Though I don�t think I�m as controlling as I think I am; my internal dialogue sometimes blends in with my external in retrospect. I tend to internalize my controlling nature and save it for my closest friends and loved ones. And sometimes not even then. Considering my wife�s reactions to my level of input of opinion sometimes, I�d venture to say that I too often over-internalize my control. Once again overcompensating for the potential to behave like my father, I suppose. Thanks for the good vibes, dad. My stepdaughter sometimes complains that we yell at her too much when we�re miffed with her. I assure you that we rarely yell. To her, a stern voice is equitable to yelling. I keep warning her that one day she�ll drive me to the point of letting my �dad� out, and then she�ll really know what yelling is. I hope that day never comes.

At the end of my workday I�ll be running immediately to my private interview with our adoption case worker, where she will probe into the intimate and private details of my life to ensure that I�m not a pedophile or a slave trader. I�m not looking forward to this, only because I�m going to end up being more truthful than I�d like about this whole adoption process. Of course, people in positions such as hers often find honesty refreshing (I think my honesty was part of the reason I got this job, for instance), though sometimes it can be detrimental. I think I�ll be alright, though. I don�t have it in my head to subvert the process or anything. At least, not until I�m through with it. I�ve decided to channel my anger at the difficulty of this process into promoting some sort of overlying system for anyone who wants to be a parent, biological or otherwise. I think that if everyone had to go through everything we are to be a parent in general, not just to adopt, the world would be a better place due to either quality parenting or certain people not becoming a parent at all. Short of mandatory contraception until receiving a parenting certification, this seems a fine idea. Never going to be home with your children? Think the TV makes a great babysitter? Don�t think your kid needs vaccinations? Think smoking and drinking during pregnancy is fine? Think corporal punishment is a must? Sorry, no baby for you.

Yes, I�m being judgmental. I think I have a right to be, considering the circumstance. Go through all of this yourself and then see what you think of Joe and Jane Schmuck, who crank out kids left and right while they smoke two packs a day each and split a case of brewskis while watching Springer instead of getting a job. E-fucking-gad.

Meanwhile, I think I�m fighting of a low-grade cold. Yesterday, instead of enjoying the sunshine and going to H�s orchestra concert, I lounged about the house in a wooze of minor illness. I�m much better today, but it�s still in there, lurking. I just hope it chooses not to resurface until after my interview, if at all. There�s nothing like going to an important, life-affecting event while in a stupor.

This is the last week at work with my cubicle neighbor, Kelli. She�s moving on to a different department in the company. Which is too bad, because I�ve finally gotten to know her somewhat and now she�s leaving. She�s a pretty reserved person, and I assumed that it was just because she (like me) decided to keep a barrier up between work life and the rest of her life, and that she�s really much more dynamic and showy away from the office. Turns out she�s just plain �ol meek. Which amazes me. Here�s this pretty, intelligent dancer-type who has very little concept of her potential. Office work has been pretty much her life post high school. She�s in school still (going to KSU), but really doesn�t have a inkling of her true power. Can you imagine, someone with so much potential that has no idea what to do with it?

Wait, don�t answer that.

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