The other day, my co-worker and I were talking about whatever we're prone to talk about and a Space Ghost reference came to mind.

Well I set about finding that CD only to remember I think my ex got it in the split. To put the matter at ease I stupidly sent a facebook message to her asking her if such was the case.

Her reply said she did have it and OHBYTHEWAY, my husband still wants to meet you. Stating it won't happen unless I find myself in Montana. (Something which has yet to ever happen by the grace of God). I wrote it off saying surely you've convinced him that I'm not worth the effort by now.

I get a message saying this:
This is the husband. Hi.

Explain away as she did, I still did, and do, want to meet you. She doesn't know I am writing you, as she left her facebook up and left the area (something about that whole "what's yours is mine" clause....) anyway, it might seem quite strange, as my wife has not expressed a desired to meet my previous interest either. o well. Hope you find a suitable second for your space ghost CD. I would offer you some pirated mp3s if I had them, but alas, they were destroyed when I threw out my college comp.

Ok. Sure. You're crazy. Whatever.

So, irregardless of my wife's sound advice to the opposite, I composed this and sent it off POST HASTE.

Please pass this on to "the husband" as I'm sure you've already seen the message he sent me the other night using your account. Assuming of course that you weren't watching him type that.
This is the matter and it is here after resolved.

Never let it be said that I didn’t give them what they want. In an effort to set your mind at ease about a long dead relationship from almost 9 years ago, I present for your immediate consumption a fully authorized biography of me.

My name is Mike Patterson. I’m 6’4” tall without shoes on and thanks to my nonexistent workout regiment and the fact that my wife happens to be a very good cook I’m currently about 40 lbs over the average weight limit of someone my size. My blood type is O. Can’t be certain if it is positive or negative. Not sure how that works.

I currently work as a salesman in the kind of job that only a missing degree from college can get you. Despite my entry level position, I make a comfortable living. I’m less than a month away from being 30 years old and also a little over a month away from having a 6 month old son. Despite my age, and the certain standards that the established order say I should have, I play video games and can and do converse endlessly about any topic on the subject of comic books. While generally speaking I usually shy away from prattling on and on about myself to the random person, I do have a penchant for being long winded to those that’ll listen as you’re soon to discover.

I know more about movies than any two average people should. I’ve been quoted as saying I’m fairly certain I am funnier than at least 60% of the general population, but I have a tendency to come off as humorless.  I’m currently writing and editing two novels that I’m not convinced won’t sit on my computer for the rest of my life. I’m also co-writing a movie and internet series.

I dropped out of college on what should have been my senior year due to lack of concentration and attendance. When asked how much more time I had left before I graduated I embellish the answer for two reasons: 1.To make me look better. 2. I have no idea how much longer it would have taken. That apathy was one of the reasons it was better for me to leave than continue to rack up debt I’d spend the rest of my life paying off.

But let’s get to the time period that I’m sure you’ve wondering about lo these many years:

1994-2000: A brief synopsis of my dating history.

You might be wondering why I’m starting with 1994 since that is 2 years before I dated your wife. A man can never know where he’s going unless he knows where he’s been. And even though they say you should, I don’t want to leave you wanting more. So let’s get a running start at the time frame of November 1996 to February 2000.

My first official girlfriend’s name was Emilie. Mad as a hatter that one, but when you’re 15, not a lot of that matters if you catch my drift. We dated her senior year after my first choice for homecoming date soundly rejected me (before trying to repeal her decision). I decided to stick with Emilie as opposed to switching to the other girl because Emilie could drive.  Yes. My first real relationship with a woman was initiated because she was old enough to drive. 11 months of this that and the other and she was off to college, never to be made out with again. (In case you missed my drift earlier.)

Next came Mike’s “blue period.” August 1995-July 1996.
This period found me adrift in terms of love. I went on two dates with a girl named Jolene. Two weeks later, it turned out she was seeing someone else without so much as a “this isn’t going to work out” for me. My ego was more wounded than anything. To be honest, we never really clicked.

I waded for a while in the sea of singleness until January of 1996 when the cruel mistress of fate designed for me to meet and subsequently date a girl named Juli. That cold and distant relationship lasted 5 months, and was about 3 weeks longer than it should have been. A footnote in an otherwise tarnished history of events.

But when you’re all the way down there’s only up. From August to October I rode the waves of being probably the coolest I’ve ever been. It was my senior year. I had one of the leads in the school play as well as no less than two girls vying for my affection. (No more than 2, but no less either).

And so now we’ve come to it. Like I said, I’ll spare details as they A. Have no baring on future events B. Are neither your concern or frankly your business. Plus, who needs that?

Our relationship was a little over 3 years long, which if you ask your wife, was about 2 years longer than she would have liked. She broke up with me not quite a year into it. I convinced her to take me back about a month or so before I ended up kissing some other girl in a moment of absent minded instant gratification.

The majority of our relationship was spent 10 hours apart from each other and I’m sure cost the two of us a number of more fulfilling relationships wherein we could enjoy the company of a person we could actually SEE.

This isn’t to say that our time together was a complete waste. I gained plenty from it such as a biting, sarcastic way of forcing the issue and saying the one awkward thing the group I’m in doesn’t want to outwardly address. (I’m positive you know what I mean by that). And I’m sure she gained a lot from it as well. I know of at least one comedy CD which got this whole conversation rolling.

If I had to put our relationship in words, I’d have to use two separate songs to adequately express. The first one would be the overtly cheese filled Garth Brooks song, “The Dance.”  Mainly because every relationship that blossomed and/or wilted around that time could be covered by the lyrics.

The other –and this one came to mean more after the fact— is Linkin Park’s “In The End.” Second verse in particular.

We broke up, I’m sure you know, on Valentine’s Day 2000. Over the phone. I’m not proud. Although it does make for a funny story. Now.

With the exception of like  of phone calls, we’ve not really talked since 2000. When we did we were usually arguing about something. Usually her giving me advice and me not taking it. 

The 8 years between then and now I’ve done all that stuff at the top there as well as get married to a wonderful woman who gave me a son first try. I haven’t matured a lot but I have grown up. I’ve become responsible. And I’ve moved on. As should we all.

As for Space Ghost CDs, possession is whatever and stuff the law. Enjoy it with my compliments and have a nice life.


Yeesh.