My Mind's Ink

I poured a lot of emotional energy into this story. I am pleased that it turned out so well and that it touched so many people. It is a fitting tribute to my friend.

“I’m trying to think of a way to write this story so you will let me tell it.”
When I say this to my wife, she is standing over a mirror, with a foot on either side. I’d add, “in a compromising position,” but that’s redundant. You can’t straddle a mirror in a prudish way. It [...]

My wife, Michelle, and I are trying to have a baby. That is of note because we had emphatically decided not to do that. We changed our minds, obviously, and in retrospect, the vasectomy seems a little rash.

Pound for pound there’s nothing as scary as a spider. What would you rather fight, a 200 pound dog, cat, man, gorilla, or spider? Of course, that’s not fair. A gorilla that big is normal, but if you look outside your window and see a spider the size of a labrador retriever, then shit has gone seriously sideways, you are trapped in a Stephen King novel. Still though, spiders, you don’t want a big one on your face. I think we can all agree on that.

Many friends of Michelle and I have newborns. As we tour our old stomping grounds in Edmonton, visiting from house to house, it becomes clear that we are the victims of a conspiracy. Each baby contrives to portray its very best: smiling, giggling, interactive, and beautiful. Driving away at the end of the day, after five of these sessions, I look at my wife and say something for the first time in my life, “I want to have a baby.”

I finally finished this story which I have been publishing in increments. I’m actually quite pleased with it.

I’ve been surprised to learn that everyone has fertility issues, or has a connection to someone who does. For my wife and I, last year was dominated by a pursuit of pregnancy. I thought I would start this new year by sharing some observations about that.
We decided to be open about what we were doing [...]

The next major step of In Vitro Fertilization (IVF) is obtaining an egg. Actually, the objective is to get several. The process is invasive, and involved, so the best result is to harvest multiple eggs at the same time. To do this you need drugs.

I was walking with a friend of mine in the quiet little park behind my house when we were attacked by a group of kids. My friend managed to escape. I was pepper sprayed, beaten senseless, and robbed. It has been a year now and a couple chipped teeth are all that remains of the physical damage, but an episode like that lingers with you. I have been turning those thoughts over and over. The rough edges have been worn away and they are now familiar enough to write about. Here they are then, those smooth little pebbles.

I had a vasectomy a few years ago. The operation itself was a non-issue. Fifteen minutes from the time I walked into the office until I walked out sterile. The only interesting part of the process was that an attractive intern assisted. Her roll paralleling the person that puts their finger on the ribbon so someone else can tie a bow. She had little to do, so we chatted while they were tying me off. Then I went home and promptly told my wife that another woman touched my balls.

I lost my innocence last week. A person I don’t know went out of their way to tell me I sucked. I got my first heckler.
It was inevitable, there is one in very crowd, and the internet is certainly that. The guy who’s soul contribution is, “You suck.”
My heckler commented on this article, in which [...]

If you occasionally host a party characterized by excesses in food and drink people think of you as a fun couple. When you do it as often as Michelle and I people begin to talk about twelve step programs. Subtle misdirection and thin facades help a lot. My point is that our Name the Gnome BBQ was a success.

Me: Where are those cheese buns? Hey! Did you eat both of those cheese buns?
Michelle: Um, ya, sorry, I was hungry.
Me: Really? Both of them?
Michelle: Sorry. I didn’t mean to.
Me: Of course you meant to. You ate them. You have to mean to eat something.
Michelle: I’m sorry. Do you love me?
Me: Ya, but slightly less now that I know you ate both of those fucking cheese buns.
Michelle: Watch it, or we’ll cancel “No Pants Night”.

The symbol has become pervasive. Blue boxes, bins, and bags are everywhere inviting you to recycle your unwanted mess. Doing so likely provides you with an unconscious little shot in the arm; a good ‚I’m doing my part‚ feeling. Except we are not really accomplishing much.

Sitting across from me is a woman that reminds me of Penelope Cruz. She is petite with delicate Latin features and smooth skin. Her top plunges below a diminutive bust line to reveal the lace edges of her bra, which she manages to make look sexy and elegant. She is extravagantly beautiful.

It’s good to push boundaries. It helps you grow and experience new things, and sometimes it reinforces why there are boundaries in the first place.

Michelle: (lifting her arm) Is that B.O.? I just showered. Check.
Dirk: I’m not smelling your armpit.
Michelle: I’d do it for you if you asked.
Dirk: I wouldn’t ask, and that’s the difference.

I have a certain appreciation for strangers that knock on my door to talk about religion, but I am less impressed with their sales pitch.

The shredder holds very little, and when it fills up, the blades of the machine begin to feed on the entrails of its previous victims. It’s like I can hear smoke coming out of it. I lift the top off, and look down at the tangled mess I knew I would find, and think, “Can’t she fucking hear that!”

I’m setting up a company. There’s been progress on the whole search for the dream job thing, that’s not what this is about though.
“The lawyer asked about setting up corporate officers.”
“I’m the officer. Officer Michelle. I’m in charge.”
“Then I think we should get you a uniform.”

When does The Plan stop being The Plan? We anticipate, create visions, project into the future, it’s a uniquely human curse. When The Plan fails to mesh with real life do you revise it, abandon it, or create a new one?
When we first started In Vitro Fertilization we secretly entertained notions of an easy home [...]

Forever on the edge, waiting. Always the promise, never the realization. It feels like I’ve been holding my breath for a year.
Anticipation, excitement, heart break, disappointment, anxiety, worry, frustration. It’s draining. I want off this ride. I want a vacation, a respite from decisions, a postponement on planning, an interlude to breathe deeply.
What the future [...]

I have been asked to share my perspective on vasectomies, and not simply because I have had two of them. I also got an infection following the second one, which made for a funny story, but I narrowly averted loosing one of my testicles. Then my wife and I changed our minds, and decided to [...]

A boy and his mother walk by my seat on the patio, and he has the biggest kicking and screaming fit I have ever seen. It is epic. The boy is too big for her to physically drag home, although she tries. He yells, and stomps, and sends his rubber boot flying with a poorly [...]

Two older gentlemen come to the door and talk to me about Jesus. They are an improvement on my last Religious Zealots. I like the look of them. They have on their Sunday best, which is out of fashion, and worn at the elbows, but they look like nice, kindly fellows, and they both wear [...]

There is more to your reproductive system than your vagina. That is the title of a chapter in a fertility book I flipped through today at the clinic. Turns out, it’s true.

“Oh, not too good man. They can’t treat him with chemo and they think radiation will kill him.” This is how the conversation begins.

Michelle: Screw it, I’m not wearing makeup today.

Dirk: What! How are people going to know you’re good enough to be with me?

Michelle: Oh, I think that’s pretty obvious.

This is one of my personal favorites, and the best lead-in hook I’ve written. I wrote it in response to a challenge presented to me by another blogger.

There is a lot of standing around at first. I’m not sure what to do. Mostly I watch the pretty girls and help with the ropes.

The place begins to be crowded, everyone busy coordinating their role. I stay with the people I know most of the time, but get a chance to wander around. The preparations are extravagant. Attendants and coordinators weave themselves into the multitude of scantily clothed young girls. No one seems to notice me.

My wife brought home two dryer balls. No, I had no idea what they were either. Egg shaped, covered with short thick spikes, made of a stiff pliable silicon, it sits in the palm of your hand. It looks like a dog’s chew toy, or a sex toy gone horribly wrong.

Fluency in French is a requirement at the Royal Military College. I received daily instruction in the subject during the year I attended. I worked my way down until I reached the class at the bottom of the system, which you could politely say was for the linguistically challenged.

I was mugged on Halloween night. Generally I like to tell stories here of a more humorous and light hearted vein so I was initially unsure I would relate the event at all. I have elected to do so for a couple of reasons.

There is an interesting talk on TED dealing with how too many options have a negative impact on happiness. It’s more difficult to select a salad dressing when you have a vast array available at your local supermarket. With all those options your expectations are extremely high, and when your choice fails to be perfect, [...]

We must walk to the end of our street and around the row of houses to get to the dog park. Well, I walk, the dogs like to run, it takes them about thirty seconds. Keeping them in check for the short walk is more bother than it is worth, but letting them run ahead [...]

The names of professionals occupying the building are indicated by glass panels mounted outside the doors in the hallway. As we leave, Michelle points out a panel etched with the name “Butkis”, and has a little giggle. I can already envision her making fart jokes with the child we are here to conceive, and it makes me smile.

I have a tendency to be a cynical asshole. I admit that. I still think this is a valid question. Why are half a million people on Facebook fans of chocolate milk?

I don’t accost people on the street drinking bottle water, “Hey! Do you feel good about yourself? Earth killer!” I wanted to say that because the following article may sound zealous, but I am not. Drink bottled water or don’t, either is fine with me.

This is a rework of Against Recycling Plastic Bottles. I wrote it as a speech for a Toastmasters competition, which is the reason for the conversational zealous tone. I won, which is surprising. So, although the article is repetitive to those of you who come back here regularly, it’s won an award. Award winning you could call it, if you were so inclined.

Cool rational thought is a hairs breadth from panic. You can travel the distance in seconds with nothing to guide you. Allow me to demonstrate.

Every year at Christmas I witness a battle. Brothers pit themselves against brothers in a fight for the most sought-after of rewards: bragging rights. The Christmas Bakeoff separates the men from the boys, and from the girls.

The premise is simple. The ladies provide appetizers judgment-free. The men each make a desert in the hopes of obtaining victory and the coveted Buck Knife Cup.

Michelle and I went out for a nice dinner and bottle of wine last night. To borrow a line from that Flight of the Concords song, conditions were perfect. You know, we were going to do IT.

I have just finished talking to customer service at my cell phone company and what a bright and sunny disposition that has left me in. I have given up on getting good customer service from modern companies. I would settle for not being in a murderous rage when I am done.