Stue P Dassol's blog: "serious stuff"

Now, I will go onto life, for I have taken part in that, I have a son, and I was there when he was concieved, I was there when he was born. That was another memorable occasion, seeing a life brought into this world. My son's birth is a rather funny story. I was stationed 150 miles from my now ex-wife (at the time we were not married yet) and only came home on weekends to be with her. It was a Friday night when I came home, and payday, so on the way to the apartment she wanted to stop at Wal-mart because she had to buy an entertainment center. I pretty much always let her have her way, so we stopped, one of the stockboys helped me put it in the car and we headed home. When we arrived home, I was on my way to ask a neighbor to help me carry the center into the apartment when my stubborn ex-wife grabbed the box and started pulling it out of the car by herself. I asked her if she was crazy and told her to wait, but that wasn't happening. (let me insert a few details here, like the fact that at her appointment the Tuesday before this, she was already dilated at like 3 1/2 centimeters, they were expecting her to have the baby at anytime) So since she was being stubborn I grabbed the other side of the box and we carried it into the house. Not sure if I then put it together or what, but the next thing I remember was her waking me up sometime in the night to tell me she was in contractions. So I asked her how far apart were they and she told me like 20 minutes. I told her to wake me up when they were closer (yeah I know girls, I know). The next morning the Commandant was to be on base and she had a formation to go to which she insisted on going to, I told her she was crazy and no one was going to say anything to her for missing a formation when she was in labor, but she insisted. So I drove her to this formation, the whole time she was having contractions, about climbing out of the carseat everytime they hit. We get to the formation and her plattoon sergeant said something to the effect that only she would show up to a formation IN LABOR, and we went to the hospital. When we walked onto the delivery floor, the Naval Nurse who was standing there, looked at my ex-wife and told her she wasn't even in labor (and when I say looked, I mean we didn't even make it to a room, we were at the admitting desk) and to go back home. At this point I was a bit pissed off, if on Tuesday she was at 3 1/2 centimeters, then I was wondering where she was at now, anyway, we went home, and she took a long hot shower. Around 2:30 p.m. we went back to the hospital and they actually looked at her. The nurse who had turned us away earlier was still on duty, and she is the one who checked Sarah out. I remember sitting there (although we weren't married the Navy decided since I was the father I was allowed to be there) and the nurse was checking to see how dilated she was, the nurse was like, hold on, I will be right back and cameback with the midwife, the midwife checked and said, "yes, she is at 8 centimeters", the look on the nurse's face at this time was quite priceless, and I knew she remembered us from a few hours earlier. Well for any that do not know, you can't get an epideral when you are that far along, so my ex was just dealing with the pain. It wasn't long before the doctor came in and started doing her thing. Sarah was screaming she was in a lot of pain, and the doctor looked at her and told her to shut up, it wasn't that bad. This was all very crazy for me, and seeing her in that much pain was tearing me apart, I kept wanting to cry. Well after the doctor said that to her, there was no way I was going to cry or do anything of the sort, I had to keep looking out the window and clearing my eyes. I am not that sure, but I think we were at the hospital anywhere from 45 minutes to 1 hour 15 minutes before my son was born. They even let me cut the umbilical cord. Watching his birth is the most amazing thing I have ever seen in my life. Although it was also one of the most disgusting things as well, seeing something that size come out of something that small was not something you can prepare yourself for, in anyway. Since the day he was born he has been a true joy, and one of the most precious things in my life.

I just read a friends blog that dealt with someone's suicide in their youth, and it got me to thinking about life and death in general. I am no stranger to death, lost my favorite grandfather on December 10th 1985, I can still remember all the details of learning that news. 2 years later his wife, my favorite grandmother passed away. In high school we had a suicide, and we lost someone in a car accident. When I was 18 my father passed on, and then in 2000 my stepfather died, on Father's Day. I had been stationed in California and flew home, he died 2 hours after I got home, while I was sitting there with him. I've had friends die, family die, I have even came close to dying. The first Marine funeral I ever went too was when one of my plattoon members, Cpl Jurado, who was from L.A. and had gone home for the weekend, because we were only stationed about an hour from there, was a passenger in a car where the driver had been drinking and ran into a concrete telephone type pole on the side of the road and it had snapped in half, it crushed my fellow Marine and the driver walked away with scratches. They had an open casket but half of his face was ceramic, the mortician did the best he could, but you could still tell. I can still picture him in my mind's eye, and this was almost 10 years ago. The most recent funeral I have been to was when my sister's boyfriend's mom passed away over the summer, and I went to the funeral as a courtesy for him, I had never even met his mother. She died of natural causes, though. The last funeral I attended of someone I knew personally was when one of my friends from here where I live, and all of you Villeians are probably familiar with who I am referring to, was found in his apartment of an overdose. That was right after I moved home after gettin gout of the Marines. The most memorable funeral I have ever attended I was actually a part of, when my step-father passed away, I was asked to present the United States flag to my mother as my step-father had been a Marine in Vietnam.It took all my discipline to keep my bearing, I think most of the people in the memorial hall had wet eyes when I saluted my mother in my full dress blues and told her on behalf of the President of the United States and in honor of the country he served, I present you this flag. I was even a pallbearer for my great great uncle when I was 19. Death is always around us, it is the dying season right now, if you look out your window you will see the leaves turning colors and soon they will be falling from their summer homes, but we don't see it like that, instead we see the beauty in it. Which is good, in death there can be great beauty, and great peace. We must not let death get us down, but instead rejoice in the life that was there and touched us.

thoughts on life, I wrote about 4 years ago.... Some things have recently come to my attention that I feel the need speak my mind on. The first of which is parenting, and the actions of some single parents. I guess the relationship between my ex-wife and mine is a little different then most, and my views and being a father. I remember when she was pregnant, and I told myself I would never be a bad father. Sad to say, the path I was taking was exactly the one that would have made me a bad one, now I have to spend a lot of time away from my son, but I feel that the reasons I am doing so are good ones. The initial reason sucked, I mean, who wants to have a DUI take them away from their children, but it had some good aspects to it. I mean, it put a huge flag in front of me saying "look, you fucking retard, you are turning into your father, wanna be dead before you are 45?". So now I am fixing myself, and hopefully in the end it will all turn out for the better. Now, to get on with it, people always say to me, "wow, you must be a great father" well, I don't really know about all that, all I can say is I tried, sometimes really hard, other times not hard enough, but I did try. Still do. Does that mean I am going to automatically be the "daddy" to your children? No, I will not, what is a possibility, though, is that I will not shut the possibility of a happy life out because a mother is single. But don't blame me if I don't feel comfortable getting close to children at first, it isn't my dislike of children, I love them, it is the fact that kids will suffer those actions. I don't want to have someone date me or stay with me because me and their child/children are close. See that often, and it irritates the living hell out of me. That is the same as staying in a horrible marriage because of the children, it isn't healthy. The biggest question that is raised in my mind is where is the father, often times he isn't the least bit interested, but I know sometimes that isn't the case. I know someone who has an infant, and they would always tell me that the father was a shitty one, yet they are in a custody battle with them, me personally, I wouldn't try to get custody of a child that was better off with their mother, now I know I am not typical in that sense, but come on. And sorry that women think men do it just to hurt the women, that isn't very well thought out on either end. We all make mistakes, and the fathers that weren't there, quite possibly had very good reasons for that. Did it ever occur that they are trying to make ammends, and that they want to be back in their childrens lives again? Why would you keep a child from a father that is trying, and if it is his only child, maybe he doesn't know what to do, and is scared of being a parent, but is trying to learn. For crying out loud, he wants to be "Daddy", not some guy that had nothing to do with the child until he entered your life. Isn't it just possible that it should be the child decision? It was mine, my mother made it quite plan that she never expected me to call my step-father Dad, nor did I, I had my own dad, he wasn't the greatest, but he was. Now I am not saying that this is true in every case, but some of it is true in every case. Your hatred of the father of your children should not come between the relationship between father and child. Another thing, all of you men that think being a father is easy, it isn't, it's a lot of responsibility, why do you think all these fathers are missing? Having a child call you Daddy is a priviledge, and not just a nice word to try on and say it's cool to impress your homies. It amazes me all the people I know that have known someone a few weeks, and decide that they are going to be together forever (that's a myth, think about all the forevers you have already had) and then decide that they are Daddies. Whoah Nelly, not so fast, what are you going to do when that child calls you daddy, and you aren't even there a year later? Who is confused now? Not you, you have already moved on, huh? I found myself starting to do that, and it made me quite uncomfortable when I actually thought about it. The way to a woman's heart should never be through her children, what normally works is being yourself, and letting her get to know you. At the same time, you are getting to know her, right? So, hmmmm, works two ways, wow, what a coincidence. Trust me on the fact that women aren't always who you thought they were, I tend to find that out the hard way, and it doesn't feel very well. While you may think she was done with the ex, not necessarily true, why don't you ask her to tell you what she is honestly telling him, to make him stay around for so long, when she is supposedly with you? Think it is really for her friendship, hmmmm, she's probably leading him on. Trust me, they get pissed when you realize that you are being led, and want no further part of that. That's when they start their little stories of how you cry to them, and that "he won't leave me alone". Now some of it is true, I'm sure, but why for so long? Wouldn't it make just a little bit of sense that she was telling him something? I don't know, maybe I am crazy, but it would make more sense then, well, we were friends, but then he started getting all psycho on me. Would probably be a safe assumption that she was feeding him a whole line the whole time. This subject brings someone who used to be very close to mind, because as I think about it, she once did the same thing with me, and then she was not with the guy anymore, and was with me. Hmmmm, then, we broke up, and now it would appear that she is doing the very same thing to someone else, lol, how funny life's little patterns are. Maybe I am mistaken about that as well, but I doubt it. I have found I am not very far off the mark when I get like this. Well, I guess that will be enough of my rambling for now, I am getting tired, and I should probably get some sleep soon

do this if you like 1. Who are you? 2. Are we friends? 3. When and how did we meet? 4. Do you have a crush on me? 5. Would you kiss me? 6. Give me a nickname and explain why you picked it. 7. Describe me in one word. 8. What was your first impression of me? 9. Do you still think that way about me now? 10. What reminds you of me? 11. If you could give me anything what would it be? 12. What is your best memory with me? 13. If you could change one thing about me, what would it be? 14. Ever wanted to tell me something but couldn't? 15. Do you think I'm going to heaven or hell and why? 16. Are you going to put this on your blog and see what I say about you?

a little advice for girls: Don't assume that guys won't care where you are, because we do. ____________________________________________________ IT MAKES US FEEL SO SECURE TO KNOW THAT OUR GIRLFRIEND ISNT OFF FLIRTING WITH GUYS WE'VE NEVER HEARD OF!! ____________________________________________________ We don't care if you talk to other guys. We don't care if you're friends with other guys. But when you're sitting next to us, and some random guy walks into the room and you jump up and tackle him, without even introducing us, yeah, it pisses us off. It doesn't help if you sit there and talk to him for ten minutes without even acknowledging the fact that we're still there. We don't care if a guy calls you, but at 2 in the morning we do get a little concerned. Nothing is that important at 2 a.m. that it can't wait till the morning. ____________________________________________________ Also, when we tell you you're pretty/ beautiful/ gorgeous/ cute/ stunning, we freaking mean it. Don't tell us we're wrong. We'll stop trying to convince you. The sexiest thing about a girl is confidence. ____________________________________________________ Yeah, you can quote me. ____________________________________________________ Don't be mad when we hold the door open. Take Advantage of the mood im in. LET US PAY FOR YOU! DON'T "FEEL BAD" We enjoy doing it. It's expected. Smile and say "thank you." ____________________________________________________ Kiss us when no one's watching. If you kiss us when you know nobody's looking we'll be more impressed. ____________________________________________________ You don't have to get dressed up for us. If we're going out with you in the first place, you don't have to feel the need to wear the shortest skirt you have or put on every kind of makeup you own. We like you for WHO you are and not WHAT you are. honestly, i think a girl looks more beautiful when she's just in her pj's. or my tshirt and boxers, not all dolled up ____________________________________________________ don't flirt with guys when were not with you. We have eyes everywhere. And when we find out, we're pissed. Not necessarily with the guys you flirted with, more-so with YOU. ____________________________________________________ Don't take everything we say seriously. Sarcasm is a beautiful thing. See the beauty in it. Don't get angry easily. ____________________________________________________ Stop using magazines/media as your bible. Don't talk about how hott Morris Chesnutt, Brad Pitt, or Jesse McCartny is in front of us. It's boring, and we don't care. You have girlfriends for that. ____________________________________________________ Whatever happened to the word "handsome"/"beautiful" I'd be utterly stunned by a girl who greeted me with "Hey handsome!" instead of "Hey baby/ stud/ cutie/ sexy" or whatever else you can think of. on the other hand im not sayin i woulndnt like it ether ; ) ____________________________________________________ Girls, I cannot stress this enough: IF YOU AREN'T BEING TREATED RIGHT BY A GUY, DON'T WAIT FOR HIM TO CHANGE. DITCH HIS SORRY, DISCRACE-TO-THE-MALE-POPULATION ASS, AND FIND SOMEONE WHO WILL TREAT YOU WITH UTTER RESPECT Someone who will honor your morals. Someone who will make you smile when you're at your lowest. Someone who will care for you even when you make mistakes. Someone who will love you, no matter how bad you make them feel. Someone who will stop what theyre doing just to look you in the eyes....and say "i love you" ... ....AND ACTUALLY MEAN IT!

This essay actually began when I started the previous assignment. I thought it would be easy to write about cohabitation versus marriage because I had previously believed so firmly in “test-driving” with live-in relationships. Unfortunately all the research that I found on the subject started to lead me farther away from my original point of view. I quite obviously used to believe in cohabitation; but, in light of recent events in my life, I am slowly starting to become concerned that this is based on no concrete evidence whatsoever and that the benefits of a committed marriage far outweigh those of cohabitation. It all started with my divorce four years ago; the ultimate failure. I realize now that in my quest to keep from failing again I have doomed all of my serious relationships since then. According to David Popenoe “living together before marriage increases the risk of divorce. One study found an increased risk of 46%.” (Cohabitation) This figure is far from reassuring. I used to think that living with someone would bring us closer and prepare us for our eventual married life together, but according to most research that is not the case. My previous three relationships should be proof enough that living together does not necessarily lead to marriage; but I am one of those that like to learn stuff the hard way. Cohabiters, like me, are usually more liberal and tend to think less of marriage as an institution. This often leads couples to think of their budding relationship as noncommittal. In turn, the lack of commitment can lead to insecurities about sexual fidelity and make sex and the relationship less enjoyable; and since there is no commitment there is not much reason to stay when the relationship turns south. Additionally, being a single mother brings another frightening statistic to light. According to Popenoe “One study found that the risk of domestic violence for women in cohabiting relationships was double that in married relationships; the risk is even greater for child abuse.”(Cohabitation) I unfortunately have learned about that statistic firsthand and was lucky enough to get my son out of the situation before he was hurt physically. Furthermore “Cohabiting parents break up at a much higher rate than married parents and the effects of breakup can be devastating and often long lasting.” This means to me that although my son was never physically or sexually abused I simply may not be aware of the psychological toll my breakups have taken on him. What is more is that “Two studies, one in Canada and the other in the United States, found that women in cohabiting relationships are about nine times more likely to be killed by their partner than are women in marital relationships”. In the end the only benefit that I could feasibly come up with for cohabitating was financial. Not surprisingly, no amount of money can replace my sons’ physical and mental wellbeing nor can it replace my time wasted. From now on I will just have to face the facts, learn that I can take care of my son and myself without a “roomie with benefits”, and make a firm commitment of “forever” vice “until I am bored with you”.

I used to have a Labrador retriever & I was buying a large bag of Purina at Wal-Mart and was in line to check out. A woman behind me asked if I had a dog(?). On impulse, I told her that no, I was starting The Purina Diet again, although I probably shouldn't because I'd ended up in the hospital last time but that I'd lost 50 pounds before I awakened in an intensive care ward with tubes coming out of most of my orifices and IVs in both arms. I told her that it was essentially a perfect diet and that the way that it works is to load your pants pockets with Purina nuggets and simply eat one or two every time you feel hungry & that the food is nutritionally complete so I was going to try it agai n. I have to mention here that practically everyone in the line was by now enthralled with my story, particularly a tall, guy who was behind her. Horrified, she asked if I'd been poisoned. I told her no, I'd been sitting in the street licking my private parts and a car hit me. I thought the big guy was going to have to stagger out the door he was laughing so hard.

When I joined the military, I knew that there was some danger involved. Unless I went to war, then I didn't really expect to have anything happen to me. While there are the training accidents and such like that, I knew if I was careful, I wouldn't have to worry about that. So imagine my surprise when I was the victim of a violent attack in my living room. On October 15, 1999, which was a Friday, payday, and a much-anticipated day all around, a fellow class member and I made plans to go out and let off some steam. I was attending a Military Occupational Specialty school in 29 Palms, California and the classes I was taking were told to be one of the hardest schools in the military due to the material that was taught. It was going to be the perfect night, my wife (now ex-wife) who was also a Marine in my class; had a 24-hour duty that night and I had a sitter for my son. I met my friend at the bar and the evening started out great. We went bar-hopping, and he knew several of the local residents which made the night all the more enjoyable as a few of them joined us in our bar-hopping campaign. At the end of the night we were back at the bar that we had started out at and I was still in the drinking mood, so I made an open invite to all of our party to come back to my house and drink there. All but one declined, as most had children to get home too or were just too tired. The guy who decided to accept was around 21, and a local citizen with no ties to the military. He was a little taller then I, and probably outweighed me by 50 pounds. He knew several of the people in the group, as most of them were from the area. His dad was even one of the people we were drinking with. I had asked his father if he was okay and his father said he was fine. I had him drive to my house in my car because I didn't feel that I was okay to drive. We went to my house and I was showing off a bit since at 24 I had a 3-bedroom house with a swimming pool and 2-car garage complete with the 2 cars. Around the time I was showing him our pool, disaster struck. I was standing outside talking to him when I noticed that water started overflowing the sides of the pool, no sooner did I notice this then I realized we were in the midst of an earthquake. It was my first earthquake after living there for almost 4 years, and registered in at 7.2 or so. Probably the first thing that happens during the aftermath of an earthquake is power loss, and it sure didn't miss its mark that night. After checking on the neighbors who I had heard out front I went into my house and that was where my second shock happened. I entered my pitch-black house not being able to see anything in front of me. Turning the bend to enter the kitchen I was struck with a sharp object (later determined to have been a box-knife). Throwing up my arm I attempted to defend myself, but to no avail. The last thing I remember of that night was pleading for my life for my wife and son's sake. When my wife returned the following morning around 8 a.m. She walked into the house to a horrifying scene… I lay upon our living room floor covered with blood and looking like I had been savagely mutilated. Her first thought was I was dead and that my attacker had cut my ear off. I was stabbed over 60 times around my upper torso, including my neck, face and ears (I will state hear that my ear wasn't cut off, just in half). The worst of the wounds was a punctured lung, which put me in Intensive Care for 4 days, with a total of 7 days in the Desert Regional Medical Center of Palm Springs. Fortunately for me, I was seen by a local plastic surgeon, who was able to restore my face, neck and ear with almost no noticeable scars. My assailant also stole my car and took it into the desert and set it afire. I think he took maybe 40 dollars or so that I had in my pocket. They apprehended him, which wasn't very hard for them, as I knew his name, and he had been bragging around town how he had killed a Marine. Luckily for me he was inept, and I was able to recover. What is deplorable is how the California justice system handled the case. They had enough evidence to charge him with 4 felony counts; arson, grand theft auto, mayhem, and attempted murder. The case never even went to trial. I called the detective who investigated the case and was informed that he had plea-bargained and was only sentenced with 9 years prison time. Where the problem here lies, is the fact that I was never even notified of the disposition of the case, nor was I ever contacted by anyone in the District Attorney's office about anything pertaining to the case. Essentially, my dear "friend" will be able to walk the streets again after serving 4 ½ years due to the fact that the California Justice Department has the "every day served with good behavior is a day off the sentence". Subject to a parole board, of course. At least I have my health; I have made a full recovery and am looking forward to many long years with my son. Having survived this terrible ordeal, I am wary of strangers, and have little faith in the justice system. I haven't lost my faith in man, however I have little trust in them. To think that the person that you are enjoying an evening with would do such as this is rather dismaying to think about.