SGFE--Shrink This

Now I have said what this blog is all about. Here’s what’s going on now. Everything is good here in my new station in life except being away from Ricky. Background: I lived in Poland with my wife for ten years before coming here. That ain’t really what I wants to write abt. What I want to write abt is Chuck, the stepdad. You may have read the letter I sent to him, as copied into my blog a few entries back. He never wrote me back. Can you believe it? I guess I’ll have to ask him abt it when I get a chance. He doesn’t want me around, I know. I am very well-received here by my family, except by him. My mom is very helpful and understanding in my international breakup situation, but he ain’t. The rest of my family and my friends are very good too. Except him. I just want to have a good relationship with him, that’s all. It could be jealousy—I don’t know. When my mom’s sister was breaking up with her husband, she came to live with them, too, and he resented it. He dotes on my mom. She doesn’t like it.

I’m listening to Chris Wall’s Just Another Place. It’s difficult to listen to that album, because it’s the one I used to listen to when I took Ricky out to the playground. That’s another painful memory. I miss fathering as much as I miss him. He told me on Skype that he wants to play with me. When he asked me why I can’t meet him at our church in Poland, I said that it’s because I have to work in Arizona and it’s easier to find doctors here. Those are good reasons, but not the whole truth. I can’t tell him that his mom doesn’t like me or love me and was becoming violent.
I was turning over and over in my sleep today how I didn’t feel like getting out of bed to catch the bus to catch my flight on the day I left. But I was already packed, and she would become hysterical if I didn’t. She becomes hysterical over small things too—it’s just worse when it’s a big thing.
R received the package I sent him today: two books (a Spongebob one and a tractor one), Starburst candies, Popcorn flavored jelly beans (which he didn’t like), some brown sugar, a cup and kids’ meals Yo Gabba Gabba! toys (from another show he watched while here with me).
He says he wants to talk to me when he gets home from school, which is 6 a.m. my time. He doesn’t talk or even stay at the computer when I call him at 8-9 p.m. his time. But I don’t know if that’s just what he’s saying now, I’ll have to see.
I’m reluctant to make comma splices like the one above, but I guess it is acceptable since it’s short. I don’t give a rip about she don’t though. Weird. Because I know it’s she doesn’t. A preposition is something you should never end a sentence with. Hey, my machine didn’t correct that sentence. Just checking. It corrected me on façade a few installments back though. But I recorrected it to facade. Sentence fragments? No problem for me. By the way, in British English titles of books, shows, songs, etc. are not underlined or italicized, so I shan’t be doing either henceforth, and certainly not both.
Blogging is better than journaling, which I also do, but I can’t tell you why. Maybe because there is the outside chance that I’ll get a reader. I used to say that journaling was almost like seeing a psychologist. Blogging is like seeing a couple of them. I need them right now.