Unfortunately, the continued maintenance of a poorly-written blog is not as valuable a resource for my vita.

That said, I've got just a few things to mention.  One, yesterday was the first day of the Great Lake Erie class, a fieldtrip-only class Amy and I are taking.  Most of the day consisted of sitting in a bus in too-small seats, listening to tour guides talk while standing on concrete floors and taking notes, and making fun of people in the class.  Not a bad day, and the weather was nice.

Secondly, I got a fucking e-mail from my antiquated Yahoo! calendar, that I'd forgotten about.  It was reminding me of Satan's coming birthday.  Even though I am now four years removed from that nightmare, it still has the capabilities of making me think, just as reminders of various other me-shaking events (such as my grandfather's death in 1996 or my mom's diagnosis with cancer just last year) can make me do in retrospect. 

I have no doubt that I am better off now, and that I am a better person now.  I have no doubt that our split was like me losing 180 pounds of handicapping weights, and that now I've achieved so much more than I could have in her company.  I have no doubt that my life now is much better, and that the co-stars and supporting casts are more positive.

Seeing initially innocent emails like that, though, remind me of a seemingly simpler version of myself, one before the darkness and the phoenix-ish rising.  Like any past catalyst, it makes me think of the paths of my life and the possibilities on each path.  It makes me think of the times past, both good and horrifically bad.  It doesn't make me sick to my stomach anymore, and it doesn't make me sad.  If anything, it just makes me grumpy and confused, and cynical.

I like to think that I'm fully healed from those wounds, and I really believe I am.   I know I am.  But the scars will always be there, just like that spot on my right shoulder that got torn open by a broken window on the fourth of July back when I was like 10 years old.   I'm not bleeding, I'm not hurting and I'm not threatened by infection... but I'm still scarred by it, and still affected, and I probably will be for the rest of my days.

I've got to turn that piece of shit off!  The Yahoo! calendar, that is.  And, I did.  It's gone, and everything even nearly associated with me is removed from it.  Earlier in "the process," I might have left the notification on (though I don't remember getting it for a few years?) as a reminder, a notice for a measuring stick to account for progress. 

I don't need that anymore.  I'm perfectly content to know that she's probably somewhere toiling in below-mediocrity while I'm reaching new levels. 

So, Happy Birthday, Fucktard...  Glad you're not here!