Don't Let Our 'Tude go to Waste

Toe,
I read with great joy your post. Fucking shit, the Toe I know, the Toe I don't Know, and Toes I Know I Don't Know, are all here, rolled into one giant ball of something or other--mostly just words--sounding ready to jump ship from both Christianity and his marriage.

Sorry, I am catching your syntax, or trying to. I am a little drunk in the Area, yes your Area, it's true, here for unknown purposes this week. I apologize for not letting you know I am here, but I will be back again soon. I have been meaning to call you, but the Client has kept me up at all hours, literally, working on Giant Project #5, somewhat secret in certain circles. The work is too much with us these days, and I wish it weren't the case, but another part of me is embracing it, in much the same way as I am sure you are embracing the little shit and the co-sleepless nights you are having.

I love that endearment, by the way. Little shit--hehe, my da in law calls his grandkids this. It is really sweet sounding, once you get used to it.

Anyway, it's weird, because on my way to the h'tel tonight, I was thinking, I need to drunk-post on the log tonight, and I wondered if you had done the same. I have checked periodically since my post in july or whenever it was, but of course, I checked but I did not post, not once during all these months.

Something tells me you haven't even checked, you mother fucker, so I am better than you. Maybe. Damn, you have the little shit. Perfect excuse for abandoning your blog.

In all seriousness, I am sorry to hear things are stressful. Having a kid, in my observation, is very very tough. It will get better, as he gets a bit older. Just be patient with El, with the LS, and with yourself. Before you know it, you will enjoy those years between 4 and 12, when the kid is sleeping through the night, and completely innocent. Around 12 they start seriously masturbating, and sleeping through the night once again becomes problematic, but thankfully, it is not your problem by then.

Sorry, that was probably inappropriate.

Things are good with me. I miss you man. My life is crazy lately, or perhaps I am. But overall things are OK, and work, etc., are kind of going into hyperspace both in content and in authority and in the ways that usually go with those two factors.

Jesus, I write so much worse than you do. I seriously need to not drink and write.

Hope to talk and maybe see you soon, perhaps to meet the little shit?
Love,
E-word

Let's get out of this country

E-word,

I thought for sure after the birth of the little shit that T-boat would be mothballed, but I guess I still have thoughts that I want to share once in a while. Not that my thoughts are new or whatever, but fuck, why do I have to fucking caveat everything I write down just because someone else may have had the same fucking thought before I had, must I constantly and self-consciously digress what the fuck is wrong with me?

Back to the fucking point. This morning was pretty fucking awful. El slept with the little shit because I'm going to work, and she wanted to give me a break, and even though every fucking time we do this it ends up badly because El can't co-sleep with the little shit (I can sleep pretty soundly with the little shit. To explain, when we co-sleep, one of us sleeps in the little shit's room on the floor, Korean style) and ends up cranky as fuck in the morning, we still do it, and of course the morning gets off on the wrong fucking foot, and I called her crazy and she called me a son of a bitch (interesting how this phrase translates quite literally in a bunch of different languages, btw). It was completely irrational. Anyway, I still have to go to work, and I'm listening to Camera Obscura and the Drums, and it makes me feel good (to digress, I've realized that one of my greatest strengths and weaknesses in my marriage is my incredibly fucked-up memory, fucked-up meaning bad in this case. I'd argue that El's greatest strength and weakness is her fucked-up memory, meaning incredibly good in her case), but then I start thinking about the amazing fucking fact that I'm nearly 40 (no offense to oldsters who are already over 40) and how my age and body feel 40, my spirit still feels much younger. Like I feel like if I were single I could get out on the scene and meet young girls and not totally creep them the fuck out, though admitting that there is little chance I'd be able to keep up with them even if I could get them, not that I would because I'm a married fucking man with a little shit in tow and while my marriage can be an utter fucking disaster it's ultimately all I have to show for in my life which I also realize is not a very Christian thing to think because I should depend on Jesus Christ to save my soul and here goes another disjointed digression that halfway through I've completely forgotten my point and will have to read back to figure out where the hell I was going. Right, I'm nearing 40, and my spirit, if not my body, mind, and age is still young.

I've forgotten my point. I probably need to write more often here.

Love,

Toe