Glen Price Rants

My Own Lil' Place to Vent

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The Next Chapter

It’s been a month now since Judge Camiletti hit his gavel and ended that chapter in my life. Problem is, I still have a ton of questions, and I doubt everything I’ve done. I’ve talked to several folks about these ideas and thoughts… and apparently it’s normal.

Actually, it would scare them if I didn’t have doubts and have my own retrospective on what’s happened over the past 2 years.

… in time, I guess, they will resolve themselves and the dust will settle.

I sure as hell hope so, because I have a daughter to raise. She is the Rock Star. The Future.

Even though she’s 8, she already has some of my shittiness engrained. The other day, she threw out a “well, YOU were the one who left mommy…” I ignored it, because I know where it comes from. She’s a passenger in all of this, without control of the wheel.

My job, though, is to make sure that she sees the bigger picture and can grow up with a happy childhood. That’s my goal. I want her to grow up as a happy kid. This was a stepback in her childhood, I realize that. I chose it, and it’s a decision I will bear and own for the rest of my life.

But,over the past 2 years, she’s heard me called every name in the book. I’ve been slammed, berated, and belittled right in front of her.

And yet she thrives. She sees and understands what’s going on. She still wants to be with me. She still wants to talk. She still opens up.

Her fears. Her triumphs. Her goals. Her beliefs. Her loves. Her hates. I still get to hear them all. And for that, I am truly blessed to be trusted and loved enough to hear them.

That’s why this next chapter in my life should be called “Emma” – it’s going to be all about her. I’ll be there within the pages, sharing my lil’ adventures along the way. But, this part is going to be about HER. Afterall, she IS the Rock Star.

In the meantime, this Chris Stapleton tune is heavy on my playlist… it’s a story about a family coming overseas and planting roots (DEEEEEEEEEP ROOTS) in West Virginia. It’s deep, and really nails the culture of us mountaineers.

It’s Done.

Yesterday was the final divorce hearing between Tara and I. I won’t put the details on here, because I do think that it’s something which shouldn’t be public information.

However, I can say this, and it may be surprise some of you, but I don’t feel good about it. Most folks who’ve gone through a divorce are happy and break out the party hats.

No. Not me.

I can say that I’m a total wreck of emotions right now. Every 15 minutes, I am relieved, sad, hopeful, depressed, pissed, optimistic, angry, frustrated, beat down, enlightened, regretful, and mostly embarrassed. Roll a dice and pick one, because I’m hitting each in full stride right about now.

We did love each other. I can say that without question. Neither of us us went in pressured or unwillingly. I’m comfortable with saying that. It started off awesome, beautiful, and everything that a marriage should be: Home. Rugrat. Horses. Business. Jobs.

It started going wrong when finances started creeping into the picture. The unfair thing to Tara was that I had seen this before. I had already gone through it (Go read my “It’s June Now” post). And I sure as hell wasn’t about to go down that road again after a previous 11-year fiasco.

But no, she didn’t see it coming.

I could say it was lack-of-finances. Or her not contributing to the budget. Or me just being worn down. Maybe those were factors, or just bullet points.

This was my decision. At the end of the day, I felt used (again). And I was just tired of being used like that.

For the past year, I have been constantly bouncing around thoughts, ideas, and “what-ifs”. How could we have done this different? What went wrong? Could we have fixed it without going through this? Would counseling have fixed it, or would it have delayed the inevitable? Was it me? Was it her? Was it money? Was it the business? Was it too late to turn around? Could we hit a “reset” button?

We do both agree on this one phrase: It didn’t have to be like this.

She thoroughly hates me right now. I can accept that. She blames the woman I’m dating.

But, she’s wrong.

It was me. 100% me. I was the one who said “enough”. I will have to live with that responsibility and that decision I made.

8 years ago, I had hope, love, and optimism in my heart… and now, I guess I’m the devil according to Cody Jinks:

… Just Another Day

It’s been a few months since I’ve written on here, and that’s not done from neglect.

We’ve both been tied up between Halloween, Open House(s), Christmas, etc. I can honestly say that Emma made it through this ordeal (so far) pretty well. Sure, she gets upset when sitting back and wishing her parents were still together. But, even now, I’m glad she won’t have to experience a lifetime of witnessing her parents argue. She’s strong and intelligent enough to see through the barbs and digs that Tara throws out there. I’m here if she ever wants to talk things out, and I plan on keeping that channel open.

We had a status hearing yesterday, just to see where we are at. On a side note, they schedule 2 “status” hearings to see if the husband/wife have their shit together before the final divorce hearing.

Basically, the judge ordered Tara would have 60 days to move out of the house. By the end of March, she will have her own place and things moved out. Up until this point, she has been boulder-like obstinate, with a “You can’t make me. I didn’t ask for this.” approach for her.

I’m not sure why. Maybe she still sees hope? It’s been about a year now, and maybe dragging this out even longer will have some sort of “Ah-HAH!” moment, I’ll see the error of my ways, come begging for her to take me back, and then we’ll live happily-ever-after in that mansion on the hill.

There are 3 problems with that.

  1. I’ve built up even more resentment and anger since moving out to even consider that.
  2. Forgiveness is beneath her.
  3. We could never trust each other after this ordeal.

But, let’s see how this goes, and whether she’ll actually listen to the judge. She damn well isn’t listening to me and anything I’ve got to say. When we do see each other (when picking up/dropping off Emma), she won’t even look or talk to me. It’s as if she’s totally disgusted by me. She hates me.

Let’s remember… this happened almost a year ago. Not yesterday. Not last week. Not last month. Most couples are looking forward to moving on by now. They want this all wrapped up, because they are looking to start their own futures.

A year ago, I made the toughest decision I’ve ever made in my entire life. I didn’t take it lightly, and I didn’t do it spontaneously. I didn’t point fingers, and I took responsibility for it. I even told Emma about 2 weeks before I moved out. I have a lot of friends still asking me “Why?” And right now, I won’t really answer the question. There are several… but… just… not… right… now.

But let’s just see how this all goes over the next 8 weeks. This should be interesting, because this roller-coaster is at the crest of the hill.

And So It Begins

I’ve just received my court papers and date. It’s for November 7th. When I first read it, I’ve got to admit, it hit me pretty hard. And right now, I am struggling inside. I struggle each and every day, it seems.

Every day,
I’m pissed.
I’m confused.
I’m sad.
But most of all,
I’m embarrassed.

This is not my first, but my second divorce. I find myself constantly obsessing and asking:

“Well, I’ve failed again… and again.”
“How in the fuck did I end up here… again?”
“Will I EVER be any good to someone… ever… again?”

But this time it’s different. I have a daughter now. And, we’re close. Very close. She truly means the world to me. I’d go back today, if it would guarantee that I wouldn’t lose her in all of this. But, I can’t go back. Not like this. I’m too pissed off and bitter, and the last thing I want is for my daughter to see me (or us) like this.

And so is Tara.

But, Tara is hurt right now. I have to understand, and keep reminding myself that truth.

No, she never asked for this. I did. She was fine living the status quo. And I simply wasn’t. I carried the weight, and pulled the plow for years. We lived beyond our means, and I was the one who worked and worked… hoping one day someone else would pitch in and things would get better.

They never did.

I blame both of us, because it takes two to tango. There’s a lot of finger pointing nowadays… and all i can do is pray. Pray that I don’t lose my temper. Pray that things will get better for each of us. Pray that my daughter doesn’t turn against me for this decision.

But mostly, I pray for forgiveness and understanding from my 7 year-old daughter. That may not come for some time, but I hope that one day she understands how tough of a decision this was. I hope one day that she’ll see that she means the world to me. That one day she, too, will be independent and live out her own dreams and career.

Unlike most stories I hear of people going through separations/divorces, I actually do want Tara to be happy without me. I want her to be successful. I want her to be her own person independently. She used to be that way, and somehow that got lost (and so did my own focus). I do actually have faith that she will find and resurrect that person who had big dreams and went to college and went for a career. I hope and wish all of that for her.

As for me. I’m still lost. I just keep hoping that when all of this smoke clears and the dust settles, I can still see myself clearly. Because right now… I just can’t.

And everything I can’t remember
As fucked up as it all may seem
The consequences that I’ve rendered
I’ve gone and fucked things up again
– Staind (It’s Been a While)

It’s June Now

It’s June now, and I just got back from a weekend where us cousins (and family) came in for a birthday shindig for my 70yo dad.

Let me preface my news by saying that I rarely get to hang with my 6 (total) cousins. Whether it’s scheduling, or jobs, or just busy with life-in-general, we rarely get together.

But when we do… it’s magical. We have a blast together, and I cherish that more than they’ll ever know.

However there’s a secret, that only a handful of people know…

I’m in the middle of a separation/divorce. Behind all the laughter, the hollering, the arms waving, the standing up charades, and the loud stories …

I’m sad, I’m scared, and I am absolutely screaming inside.

About 6 months ago, I said “Enough.” I needed to change my life. I needed to change the direction my life was headed. I was driving myself into the ground, and doing it quickly. Very quickly.

Physically. Mentally. Spiritually. Emotionally.
I was spent.

We all reach that point where we know that a change is due. Whether it’s a job, a house, a wardrobe, a haircut. There’s just a certain point where the light bulb “pings” and says “It’s time.”

I heard the first “ping” back in August. Again, in November. I heard it louder in early December. It was this December “ping” when I knew that I couldn’t ignore it any longer. I had to say it out loud (which believe it or not, is the toughest part).

For two months, I tried to ignore it. I really did. I tried to “come back”. Others reading this will probably disagree, and say that I didn’t give 100%. And looking back, maybe I didn’t. Maybe I did.

By March, that “PING!” was the loudest I had heard. Shortly after, I had moved out of the house that I had been in for over 15 years (pause… read that last sentence again).

I was fortunate to have 2 close friends offer me guest rooms in their houses till I could sort some things out. (As a side note, I owe Gary/Angie a lot more than my gratitude for helping me out during this time. Words cannot express how thankful I am for their support through all of this.)

As I sit and write this, It’s now June and things are becoming very real. I’m noticing myself WAY more emotional than ever. I’m noticing that our arguments get heated WAY faster than in the past. And, I’m noticing that I’ve become WAY too secluded.

I am scared and petrified of the future. It keeps me up at night with thoughts with a bounce rate that rivals the speed of light.

… But for now, I’ll leave you with a favorite Gary Allan lyric:

So hold your head up and tell yourself that there’s something more
And walk out that door
Go find a new rose, don’t be afraid of the thorns
‘Cause we all have thorns
Just put your feet up to the edge, put your face in the wind
And when you fall back down, keep on rememberin’
Every storm runs, runs out of rain

What a Long, Strange Trip It’s Been

I usually use Facebook to post my political rants (with a few personal lines in between). Y’know, quick hits. Little tidbits of info I like to throw out there.

“Tiny Bombs” as we say.

But this forum… this… living online novel is different. It’s where I get to post my thoughts… my ideas… my rants… Some are dead-on correct. Some are waaaaaay the hell off-mark. Some will even change, sway, and flip-flop in time.

But, for right now, I can indeed say this….

I am on a rollercoaster.

I don’t know if I’m going up … or going down. I will say for sure that I am moving forward. Some how. Some way. I am moving forward.

With all major life events, there comes change. Big Fucking Change.

  • There are those who I will have to say goodbye to.
  • There are those who are being “re-categorized”.
  • There are those newly joining my trip.
  • And there are those who I will hold even closer to my heart, now more than ever.

Stay tuned, because there’s more to come. And I have indeed found my outlet.

2009 Christmas Tree Lighting Ceremony In Martinsburg, West Virginia

For those of you who’ve ever been a part of something truly magical at Christmastime, take a look here. I can honestly say that we’ll remember this for a long, long, long time… and can’t wait for our lil’ rugrat to become a part of this tradition.

Also, here’s a cool little video of us going through Downtown Martinsburg, while getting Biscuit warmed up for Santa and Mrs. Claus’s arrival:

Special thanks to Brad at InThePanhandle.com for shooting these videos and helping us out.

The DC Metro These Days

So, the other day, a friend of mine Twitters:

#mseekfor: To the inconsiderate people on metro this morning: you truly suck.

So, of course, I start paying attention… and dammit, she’s friggin right!!!

We’ve all seen the annoying-as-hell “passive aggressive” idiots that spring up. They’re the ones that say “excuse me, sorry…” as they push and wedge your ass out of the way. (On a side note, you’ll notice that they’re usually under 5′ 3″ tall, and are using the ‘gotta get low to play fullback’ theory to their advantage).

But, back to my rant…

Nowadays, especially with the Red line being a modern-day cluster-eff, people just don’t have the patience anymore. With times of 15-18 minutes in between Red line cars, you can’t blame people for wanting to jam themselves in. They’ve got MARC and VRE trains to catch out of Union.

So, here’s what I’m saying… let’s add a few friggin trains to the Red line, WMATA, that way I don’t have to bitchslap some midget trying to throw a chopblock on me (that’s when you take someone out at the knees) trying to hop a train.

More Trains = Patient People

Much like red signs and lights = traffic … but that’s a whole ‘nother rant.

Good God, It’s Humid

WOW, I know it’s only 75 degrees (or so) outside, but I just can’t believe how friggin’ humid it is. I’m constantly wiping and “squeegeeing” (yes, that’s a word, our office “Hoya Boy” just looked it up).

Here I am, in my mid-30’s, and all of a sudden I’m sounding like an old man. I have to walk only about 4-5 blocks to the GSA Building from the metro. However, by the time I get there, I’m totally soaked with sweat. Oh yeah, I’m sweatin’ like a beach full of albinos. For you all doing the math, that’s reciprocates, because at the end of the day, I have to head back to the metro. Worse even, because I’m walking up-hill. Yes, it’s cardio. Yes, I know exercise is good for me.

But, back to my point. I remember bitching and griping when it hits 95 degrees outside. Heck I’ve always done that (even when i was in high school). But, I’m realizing it’s not the heat that makes it miserable… it’s the damn humidity. And, when you’re walking in between the buildings of the Washington D.C. streets, there’s no breeze either.

So, you’re just miserable… and sweating your butt off doing it. You wonder why city-folks are miserable in the city… that’s why. They’re miserably hot!!!

What’s really bugging me, though, is that I’m becoming one of those people who says “it’s not the heat, it’s the humidity”.

So, here are my questions:

  • If the temp is 80, and heat index is 95… then why not just say IT’S 95!!!
  • What is the difference between “heat index” and “wind chill”?
  • When do the weatherpeople make that changeover? They NEVER talk about both, do they?
  • Why do old people head to florida (aka, God’s Waiting Room), when it’s so friggin hot and humid?
  • Why not head north, at least there’s a fireplace during the winters?
  • Is it the asphalt that makes it so hot in the city?

My Own Personal Assistant

As Branson and I were driving back from the Richmond NASCAR races, we got to talking about the “powerball special” (btw, that’s your to-do list when you hit Powerball). We got back to the whole idea of how I’d love to have a Personal Assistant for one year.

Now, I’m not saying that my PA has to do all of these him/herself. I just want someone to arrange it for me. I don’t expect to come outside and see him/her with a washrag In their hand – I’m not looking for slavedom. I just want to pay someone 30-40k/year to just remove the stress from my everyday “maintenance”. When you have the “powerball special” sitting in your bank/ira/retirement/cd account, you can pay someone else to:

  • pay my bills on time
  • make sure there’s food stocked In the fridge/pantry for when I want to cook
  • make sure my harley’s clean and gassed up when I ride
  • make sure our cars/trucks are clean and gassed up when we drive
  • make sure the john deere is cleaned up, blades sharpened, and gassed up
  • make sure the 4-wheeler is cleaned and gassed up
  • make travel arrangements via hotwire, etc.
  • have google map directions waiting for when we roadtrip
  • arrange for Nascar tickets from scalpers for when we arrive trackside
  • arrange for the parking for my “new” camper and rig
  • arrange for Biscuit and Ginny (and their harnesses/wagon) to be clean for parade day

… and these are just the ones off the top of my head. there are LOTS of everyday stressful things that I’d love to just take off my plate, so I can focus on the normal everyday things I’d love to do.

At this point in the game, I’d probably like to go into basic farming. If money was no issue, then, yeah, I’d love to just suit up the horses on weekends and take a wagon-full of corn, potatoes, ‘maters, lettuce, into town to sell – right off the back of a horse-drawn wagon.

How COOL would that be? I mean, why not??? How nice would it be to actually have a lifestyle that’s ACTUALLY fun and stress free?

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