Splinters

I met the single most sexist person of my life, which this year, gets the fat, round number of 20 years ago. He was my college professor and a genius. He repulsed me so much I made sure I was in line early on several occasions to make sure I got into one of the 4 sessions I had with him. He had a way with words, some of which I annoyingly slip into conversation to this day, with a cheesy Pakistani accent of course. "Who said what to who?" Still not sure what that meant, but I incorporate it anyway. Anyhow, he had this thing about women staying where they "belonged", in the home and fulfilling their sole useful purpose of driving the global economic engine with their wasteful spending, and raising of "the splinters" who would some day grow up and increase the depth of said economic pool. He was single and smoked 3 packs of Players Black a day. A man with that attitude and habit was not long for this world. Given the expression of some of my female classmates, I wouldn't be surprised if he met with an un-natural demise.

Splinters, part of something larger, but known for being an enormous pain in the body part of your choice relative to size. Kind of creative I suppose. My life has been filled with splinters this week. I miss Princess, it's one of the very few things I detest, nay hate, about being divorced. I haven't seen her in 2 days. When last we saw our hero, he was stressed out with deadlines and wasn't the best dad he could be, and I hate that. I hate that I stew about it after she is gone, I hate that I can't go back and change time. I wasn't a bad dad, but I wasn't an attentive and deeply patient dad, which means I wasn't the best I could be and that's the only acceptable standard.

Princess was a long time in coming, and I/we traveled a long and winding path to receive that gift. I reconnected with an old friend/flirt/flameless from college on facebook in early Feb. Someone I had not thought of in years, but her name jumped off the page one day on some god forsaken fb page. I read Flameless's info, I read her blog, I read an amazingly heartfelt open letter to her unborn, unknown child that welled my soul like I was some hormonal pre-menapausal splinter producer. Flameless and her husband were traveling the same winding path as I EXACTLY 6 years prior, only they didn't see the end in sight yet. Like me, they didn't even really have a map. We started emailing, talking about adoption and experiences of the winding road and I gave her Barrister Steve's info, caveat emptor galore. Flameless's road immediately overlay mine and was weeks away from fulfillment. Flameless finally had her long sought tracking number, though from an admittedly expensive and unreliable parcel service. Tuesday night saw Flameless with a newborn splinter in her arms named Audrey. For those in the know who traveled the winding road, the pain doesn't come from the splinter, it comes from the road rash. I am flooded with memories, emotions and other feelings I have not dealt deeply with in a long time. That feeling in my arms of a helpless and very, very sick infant. A dependent, with whom I shared no genetic link or history, but one which instantly merged into my soul and to whom I could only promise a future. Knowing.

Being I feel as if I am running a deficit, do I score any karma repair points for a referral? Either way, I miss my baby girl even more than usual. Princess is getting the shit squeezed out of her @ 4:59, you can bet your ass on that.