Into the Deep End....

Ok...I'm fixin' to go off the deep end....but don't worry, I'll drift back up to the shallow...

Last night I went to one of my kid's football games. He did really good. He was like tight end, or running back, or wide receiver, or...oh, hell, I don't know. Whoever runs along the outside edge during offense. (ok, I just emailed my ex-wife to ask what role he played-----we make out much better emailing because if we talk, we both end up thinking the other has a "tone" in their voice-----anywho, she said the "role" was wide receiver----so I did pretty good).

As I sat there amongst all the other parents, I got that same old feeling I have sadly enough grown accustomed to. I don't fit in anymore. I used to be a Stepford Husband....now I am an outsider.
I don't want to stare at the other father's butts....and yet it is just too painful to look at most of the women---those hairstyles!! One of them looked like Teenwolf (part I, not II). So, I don't stare at people, I just watch the game (what a concept!) Ok, out in Aledo, you have Old School and New School. Old School are the folks that have been out there forever, or moved out there to truly enjoy the country. New School are the Professionals that FW finally said, "you're too damn snooty, get the f*** outta town! East, West...we don't care!!"....the ones that want to move to the country, and then destroy it because it doesn't have enough amenities. Old School show up to their kid's sports games in shorts, T's and flipflops. New School show up in black leather mini skirts, stilleto's and dangly earrings. Even though I was raised out there, and should be able to stake claim.....I feel I am making the transformation from Old School to New School. Make it STOP!

Anyway....what's weird is, I don't fit in with my "old" life and yet don't really fit in with my "new" one either. I feel like I am always in a transitional period...in a state of flux. Which stresses me (kinda like when Julia Robert's husband on Sleeping With the Enemy saw that the veggie cans were messed up)....I like things all tidy and tied with a little pink bow. I used to at least fit in where ever I went...even, say, the local Walmart (this is National Rag on Walmart Week). Now, I am like "ok, the locals are blocking the aisle, what are we going to do now? Push through them? eewwww!"

So....there I am feeling like little boy lost.....when the 3rd quarter comes along. The cheerleaders (7th graders....so they are not to that HORRIBLE teenage girl stage quite just yet) are on break. For some odd reason (there are lots of odd reasons in my life) they choose to sit all around me in the stands. So it is me....in a sea of cheerleaders. I felt like I was sitting on the school bus. Why Me? Why Here? Why Now? (isn't that a line from Titanic....just add "Rose" at the first of each question) Well, during the 4th quarter, the irritation subsides, and the sorrow sets back in.

Like an Alanis Morrisette song....Now I know who I'm not, I still don't know who I am

On the way out I stopped at the concession stand and got a diet coke. Their machine was screwed up and put too much syrup in, so it was extra sweet. Don't you LOVE it when that happens? So, it wasn't all bad.