Weekend of Introspection

Wow, I always used to think that I might make a pretty good hermit. Not so. Spent the weekend pretty much without anybody up here at big old Walkabout haus. Too G-D quiet. Missed the cubs quite a bit.

Had to leave quite a few times. Did my usual walks, read, started a movie that didn't catch my interest. Had to see some people.

Stoppedin at the local pub and visited, threw down an O'Douls and ate a good meal. Got a call from lil' wolfie. Said that cuz his cousins were in town, Mama said he didn't have to go to a scheduled soccer game.

Now, you all know what I think about soccer. No big loss. On the other hand though, you also know what I think about Honor and Responsibility. I told him that the decision was his, not the Beautiful Mrs.P's responsibility, but that I'd go along with it.

So Long As He Called The Coach. And explained his situation. He did. Coach called me and said that he very much appreciated a little boy stepping up and calling him. It's usually the mom's that cover for their kids. Made me feel proud of the lil' rapscallion,heh.

Anyways, I scooted over to the Beautiful Mrs.P's to deliver lil' wolfies' school stuff for tomorrow and her little sister was there. Did I tell you that good looks run in the family genetics? I guess I just did.

We hugged. I haven't been hugged like that in months. I got teary eyed. She saw it. I vamoosed.
Surprised the hell out of me, the amount of emotion that welled up inside me. Just someone to share the hurt, if only for a moment......... AAAGH.

You see lil' sis is going through something on the lines of what I am, but with a different scenario. No, I won't go into it. It was a wonderful thing. It felt sincere, and she's probably one of the Beautiful Mrs.P's closest confidants.

So.......here I am back at Walkabout and I'll probably end up watching Flags of our Fathers. And trying to sort out my feelings once again. This having emotions and Dealing with them is a troublesome incursion in my life. Oh well........The Quest.

Last thought for the night, just so's you don't think I'm gettin' all normal on you,

Eff O J Simpson. Because I think he's a rat bastard scum who got away with a double murder? Because he's a celebrity thug who leaves a trail of horrid crap everywhere he goes?

Nope. I'm just pissed that he didn't break into My place. His number is 32. Mine is 40, as in Glock 40. Dickweed, wrong house. I'd gladly have shared my number with him. heh.

Carry on.