Cuz Tonight We're Gonna Party Like It's 19-Blah Di Blah

As I write tonight, I am surrounded by the good folks from Time Life who are playing an infomercial on the Carol Burnett show and a tiny little animal who is kneading things.  I don't even think she will lie down.  She kneads and then when that piece of blanket/leg/floor is ripe enough, she moves on to another spot.  

This weekend I shook it up a bit.  I went out and got myself a hangover.  Well, why not.  The kid is 13 now and knows how to let me sleep for a bit while doing a floor puzzle.  A friend of mine was having a housewarming party.  And for people our age, it means what it meant 20 years ago.  Drank!  Lots of drank!  And for those who so wish, Other.  

Many of the people going were friends of my first husband as well so I threw it out there...you wanna go?  I also threw out there that should he find a person flirt worthy while there, PLEASE DO, help yourself.  I wanted to be sure that this wasn't going to be taken in any way as a date.  He's been dry for about seven months.  He just *can't*.  It would send him into the spiral that has been his life for about 25 years now.  He assured me that he'd be fine....would pick up some of that fabby NA brew that people drink sometimes.

He did offer to pick up whatever I wanted though.  And I can't stress enough that I'm a broke ass right now.  So thanks for the Erdinger and the small bottle of Makers that I would stash in my purse for later.  

Is that weird to bring an ex to a party?  Well, I thought it was a neat idea.  We share a daughter so we have to talk anyway.  We don't really SHARE her....I have her 99% of the time.  But his parents watched her so we could go.  People did not recognize him since he cut off all his hair and put on a little needed weight.  People who were his best buddies from the womb.  

It was one of those Eat Nine Potato Chips and Drink Most of the Bourbon nights.  I can say for sure that I felt great last night.  

This morning was another matter altogether.  I had crashed at my ex in-laws house to save myself a drive home at 2:30am since I had to drop Cavey off anyway.  And it would save me in gas to just already be there when Humanling woke up. Then we'd trot off to home, easy peasey, stop at Starbucks and delight in the offerings.   (Broke Ass can conjure up $5 for Starbucks).  

Lying down, I was fine.  Then I went upright.  Then I knew there was no turning back.  My head hurt.  I was handed a cup of coffee that Wasn't Starbucks, but was surprisingly tasty.  I realized that now I was bombarding my stomach with coffee and no food.  Cavey was making breakfast for his parents...eggs, ham, toast.  The smell was dashing over to me in a relay race...first eggs, then ham, then toast.  My stomach sent signals of distress.  I ripped off the pizza crust from the night before's dinner.  I thought maybe if I just nibbled it, then waved it around a bit, it would do something good for me.  I just couldn't get too far with it.  I forced Humanling to get her things before my Effort Smile could dissolve into abrupt rudeness.  My head was ruthless, making a total display out of this hangover and letting the pain throb down my neck.  Drama.

There was a half hour drive still to contend with.  Or okay okay..maybe it was 25 minutes.  Whatever, it was so bad that I knew I had to confess to the kid that I wasn't feeling great.  Her empathy during the car ride was minimal.  It caught up when we got home.  We went through the Starbucks drive through.  I could scarcely say the name of any food item out loud without the gag reflex.  

Once home, I found that the gum I was chewing was stuck to one of my back teeth. This was a problem.  I put my finger in my mouth to pull it off and the gag reflex hit for at least five seconds.  That doesn't seem long, right?  Oh.  It was.  I fed the animals, dosed the guinea pig with his meds and then me, three pillows and the chair became acquainted.  Humanling was great about it and didn't even make noise about me putting on the music channel with swing music.  

The fan was on, the breeze was great.  Three hours later I got out of the chair, hungry and ready for coffee.  Ah, the joy of contrast.     

Sure was great to feel 25 again.  Even if it was just remembering how it felt to be 25 the Morning After.  But part of the fun was the drama that subsides after 15 years.  Two of Cavey's ex girlfriends were there.  One of mine was.  One of his wanted to stab me back in 1997 for being the reason why he broke up with her.  On this night, it was an abundance of Polite.  Of smiles.  Of water under the bridge.  She is married and just had a baby.  My ex has been married for about 14 years and has a 16 year old son.  His other ex...well ok.  That one complained to him that she stands out amongst her friends as she has no family.  

I imagined that I suddenly had a feeling that I understood how many generations before us felt.  Standing there with people you have known for so long and suddenly calculated how long exactly.  Remembering everyone as mere kids, no responsibilities.  And yet here we all are, plenty of responsibility.  And still enjoying a good party.  Just not sneaking off to make out with anyone now.  A decent enough night to forget my obsession with Flip.  

But oh yeah....I just remembered.  I'm still waiting for the day that he write me an angry email. Waiting for the email that just has let go of the anger and wants to just hang out.  I'm going to buy a new dress I think to match that shade of blue that I'll be from holding my breath for that one.

Hey Doc, You Look Mighty Cute in Them Jeans! Oh wait, that's me!

Oh boy!  The Ling is going to the library!  Do you know what this means?  That this blog will be written without the accompaniment of hearing the F.U.N.Song, burps that sound more like clean ups and fucscia sounding commercials trying to high pitch voice me into buying cereals, pillow pets and absurd molding materials.  However, as I sit here, I realize, the damn channel is still on.  Immediate removal of laptop from my body and time to slap that sucker off.  And do sit ups.  And then write while drinking my slightly too sweet coffee.  

Ah, silence.  Not really.  I have on one of those music channels that they give you.  MY personal favorite?  Singers and Swing! Yeah baby!!  When I was in my 20s, this kind of music would soothe me after a night out at the bar.  My live in boyfriend at the time was the singer of a band and he did not drink.  I'm shocked that he put up with so much.  Especially that time he came home to a party. Then he went to work the next day and upon coming home, there we all were still.  Then he went to work the next day....to come home and find really what was a pathetic breaking down of something we thought was still a party.  It was really any person just anywhere in the house at this point.  I was in the kitchen thinking that I needed to make mashed potatoes and throw grey poupon mustard in them to prove to everyone that it did indeed make the potatoes taste like deviled eggs.  That night my ex (who would not be my ex until well after this event, wow, what love!) sat with me outside on a curb while I blubbered about how awful I was feeling from all the booze and would he please hold my hand and would he please get up and walk with me now and thank you so much for being so wonderful and understanding, okay can we sit down again, that's not working...

Holy Tangents Crapman!!!   What exit did I get off there?    


So being that he didn't drink, I'd go out with my friends on weekends or whatever and come home at 2am, throw a black t-shirt over the tv screen in the bedroom and put on the AMC channel. Back then AMC would show nothing but old movies and I named this whole thing "The Grandparents".  I wanted to go to sleep drunk with The Grandparents overseeing the whole thing.  And that's the good sort of Irish luck that my boyfriend had, finding a great gal like me!


As I thought I'd sit down to blog during the day and get some of those Daytime feelings out there, the kid came home from the library.  However, she had picked out some books that have kept her busy for the last hour.  Her father, Cavey called and I heard the wind down...."She's home.  She's in the other room. Ok!"  {Thump.  The sound of her jumping down off her loft bed}.  


I knew it was coming for me.  The Grand Interruption in the sky....it was inevitable.  And I certainly don't want to be a mean old sober bat.  So I put you all down for awhile to chat on the phone.  See folks?  This is why I write late at night with a bourbon next to me.


He was telling me about the adventures in transitional housing land.  Where there are shakedowns and you have to take your thingy out and lift it up to show that you aren't hiding any great works of art or that stolen chicken salad sandwich that was in the fridge.  He then asked me about Wikki sticks.  I've done a lot of crafts.  I own one of those Kid things that make them from time to time.  I have not heard of these.  I wondered where he was going with this.  As he stated, an older woman comes in with stuff from time to time.  And in his words, "She expects us animals to do crafts to express our feelings."  Cavey has a heart and so I know he heartily worked on a craft so as to not hurt the woman's feelings, and because what else does he have to do with his time there?  


Wild animals and Wikki sticks.


Speaking of feelings, my days are not normal without some blood boiling email from Flip.  I am going to have a pure concentration of cortisol in my blood if I keep reading these things from him.  And yes, the coffee and bourbon DO help me. 


He suddenly had a facade of calm.  He must have blown the dust off of one of his Buddhist books that has been sitting for over a year undisturbed.  I'll admit, I can be baited. If he goes against one of those 'rules' he set by causing a ruckus during our relationship, then it drives me insane.  During arguments, one of us turns into Ticket Cop.  Ohhhh...you interrupted!  You raised your voice!  You name called!  But that's because in our earlier fights, the ticketing started with him.  I simply learned the rules and where to apply them and now I'm an expert!    So he complained about me talking to my friends about his personal woes....which actually were my personal woes tied up with his actions and the end results.  He machine gun emailed me repeatedly telling me that I have no business telling my friends about his legal problems.  He wouldn't have said that except for the fact that I mentioned both my male and female friends believe the the same as I, and not because they are my friends.  He didn't hear that.  He heard this "My Hot mother fucking male friends that I am going to let lick me up and down think you're an asshole and know your life story now and say that you are wrong about everything you loser.  And by the way, they are going to lick me up and down."  


So I heard a cornfield's worth of earfuls on that for days and days.  Then he told me that his ex called him because she "found out what happened".  Well how did she happen to find out?  We don't run in the same circles at all.  But it turns out that his best friend talks to his ex's daughter.  So there has been a direct pipeline the entire time of what went on in our house, to this ex.  I couldn't really leave it alone, could I?  After being blasted for days over my venting to friends, I asked of him....well aren't you mad at your best friend for blabbing about your troubles to your ex's daughter?  Isn't he spreading your story and not in an emotional sense of venting, like I am?  


This is where he got a glimpse of calm.  He sent me a Dali Lama quote about change and how it is slow to come.  I got served with the Dali Lama.  So I had to think about that.  I responded with a thank you, I appreciate it.  And also a "not in our relationship experience this hasn't happened".  He replied that Yes indeed, he has been on a road to change and improvement for some time now.  The past is the past. Including two days ago when he called me all those names.   This is the same person who has daily undoings by email.  Or phone bombs me repeatedly then emails me to tell me what kind of person I am for not answering the phone.  


But I'm so glad he's changed already.  So I calmly replied to him.  I said that a lot has been done to my mind over the past few years together, such as many false and out there sort of accusations.  I gave a short list of them and said well, I'm glad he is doing well and getting better.  It'll take me awhile to get to my own point of nirvana basically.  He replied back that he did not say any of those accusations.  Meanwhile I had forwarded him by email, his own original email accusing me of a ridiculous deed merely a week ago.  He never answered that one.  


This is the same person who drove my mind into not even jello because that has too much substance.  The aura of jello.  The thought of the aura of jello.  My mind was hammered with such silliness.  I was accused of stealing his dog because his pooch was frightened of his screaming and shouting and followed me into the further room of the house.  I was accused of trying to go to the landlords behind his back and get him kicked out so that I could steal the place he had lived in for 10 years.  I was accused of wearing tight jeans and boots to a doctor appointment for the doctor himself (It was not Dr. Dre or Dr. Love or even Doctor Doctor by the Thompson Twins).  I was accused of telling him that I was better than him because I decided to stop drinking one Sunday for the day.  Not for my life or the week.  Just that day, and go to water.  The beer was making me feel really unenergetic and tired.  But he was insistent that because he was still having beer, that I was being judgmental somehow.  I couldn't win with him.  He'd be a great torturist for any government.


The real topper was just a week ago when he emailed and offered to bring me my mail.  I said sure.  The Ling was home and it was early afternoon.  He brought it and we argued and he left/I showed him to the door.  I got an email from him soon after, large font screaming at me that I lured him to my house for sex and then started an argument with him so that I could kick him out after having sex with him.  


And so it goes.  My reality becomes some weird angry and agitated Tim Burton mini series that never knows when to end.  I got this far though.  There was a time where I never thought that I could even leave.  I'm almost out of the manhole!  


And with that, happiest of Fridays to you....and if you should go out tonight and meet someone, don't try to steal their dog.

I will Gladly Pay You One Ice Cream Tuesday for a Hike Today

It's not wrong to rest your beer mug on the book that your child is using for her book report, is it?  It's sitting on the floor, next to the newest Elle magazine, with my girl crush, Kristin Stewart on the cover.  

After waking up for two hours this morning with a beautiful french roast coffee a la marriage of Starbucks and Kerug, I realized that I needed to set the example for the slothiness that was lying around in the recliner watching tv.  I'm complaining about her lying around, however, I've seen pictures of me on the computer that she's taken.  It ain't pretty.  So even though I was bluffing to myself, I said out loud, "Let's go for a hike".  

I thought to myself, I don't really mean that.  It's hot out.  But we left the house anyway.  I detoured us to a book store and saw five books that I want and have already stuck in my cart at Amazon.com.  I take pictures of them while I'm in the store and then look for a better price on Amazon.  Because I'm more frugal than I am impulsive.  Well, when spending money I am.  With experience and adventure, not as frugal as I'd like to claim.

It thunders lightly here now and again. It's so hot that simply sitting around in underwear and flimsy, light shirt is not enough. Thunder is needed, along with the rain to put the air furnace out a bit.

So we did take that hike.  We were greeted by two large horses upon entering the grounds.  At this point I still hadn't realized that by popping my trunk open, I wouldn't be getting it shut by normal means.  It just wouldn't close.  I originally opened it to park my bright orange purse in while we were walking.  I ended up tying it shut with a shoelace from one of Teen-A-Ling's sneakers that was in the trunk from the last move.  The shoes that were thrown off the 2nd floor onto the grass by  Flip as he kicked me out angrily while I cleaned guinea pig cages.  

Then I chose for us to take one of the paths we hadn't previously taken.  Dun dun dunnnnnn!!!! Bad move.  I chose the rebellious path, the one literally less taken.  It was full of brush and if any of that was poison ivy, we will have legs like bubble wrap tomorrow.  There were also so many bugs flying around that at the exact same time, we both recoiled, having bugs slam into our eyeballs and squashing them with our lids.  

The path less traveled did reveal to us though, what might be a tiny village of those die-hard campers.  The ones who build little huts and shelter from what the earth offers.  I am impressed.  I wonder who was in there.  I also imagine granola people...or Charles Manson.  I toggle between the two. They always look like Charles Manson in my head but don't bother stabbing folks or leading cults.  They are solitary Mansons.  I picture females with bandanas tied over their hair and easy smiles, acoustic guitars and cut off shorts.  These people know what situations require drinking your own pee.

After sounding like an old couple (not sure which one was the old man), I finally got us to a point where we could hit the 'main road' path and head back.  She was exhausted at this point and just wanted the ice cream that I told her she could have after putting in her hiking time.

I decided to finally text my dad today and tell him about all the stuff that happened with Flip and his DWI.  My dad, being the Original Gangsta back in the day, texted me back to ask for an actual phone call to discuss.  

Panic.  I don't do phone calls very well except with those who I normally carry on this routine.  But, he is taking an interest in my life and wants to listen and help....so I should jump on that chance. So many of my friends do not have their parents and I do.  This should be a swift kick in the ass to me so I acknowledge my blessings. 

In the end his bottom line opinion was this: He knows how to push your buttons.  He's pushed your buttons.  Now you have to push his - the Eject Button.  

Father does not think I should be dealing with this anymore, and stresses the Easier Said Than Done part.  He pointed out that it keeps going in patterns and that this is not going to change or work for me.  "You're young!" he tells me.  

Meanwhile, Teen-A-Ling's dad has been calling here more.  He is in rehab....a sort of transitional housing.  He's been sober for 90 days now.  This is excellent.  He was going in circles down Ruin Road and without the help of his parole officer, he'd probably be dead.  I hula hooped as we chatted and he mentioned that he may have found what he wants to do.  This time though, he told me that he hadn't told anyone this yet...it was like a secret....and he was gearing up to tell me about it.  He sounded hesitant, as if I'd think him crazy.  (As if I'd think him a *different* crazy than I already do).  He said that he wants to go into substance abuse social work once he gets his GED.  And I totally support that.  He'd be great at it if he can keep his eye on the goal.  He's a good listener, he truly seems to want to listen when his friends need to talk and he always offers solutions.  He has a huge but misguided heart.  And now he can take all of his experience to the other side.  

I really hope he does this.  I will be so proud of him. 

I was going to write more....things about my mom and her love for the red tailed hawk.  But I just think this post is begging to end tonight.  It's tired.  It's on it's third beer and Family Ties is on. 

Does this Shade of Bitter Make My Butt Look Big?

This is the post that I thought I'd never write. (Oh, the DRAMA!)

Humanling and I got ready for our hike today. I made her a lovely gluten free sandwich, packed some snacks (because anywhere other than home causes her elicit cries that are kin to the Nematoad (hungry...hungry...hungryhungryhungryhungry!). We got to our hiking place and started the walk in. We saw hi to all dogs and then owners. I happened to see a family having lunch and their dog looked like it wanted to come see us but the owner, without looking over, put his arm on the dog and held it down. So as we walked by.....I recognized that stony big ass head as Divorce #2 (still in progress).

I don't like to put people down. I feel bad talking smack about people. But this is the post that will make me feel better upon Publish Post. I won't mention his name and I don't go by his last name in most cases anymore.

I never wanted him to be an object of my posts for a couple of reasons a) it might make him important enough to take up internet space and b) it would be to make him look bad. But I do have a right to discuss my own life and experiences in the way that they happened to me. He can publish his own counterpost (if he can get past all the uh.....I don't know what to say...uhhhh.....'s).

Today was a little bit of a rust in my rainbow when I saw his big head. I couldn't keep completely quiet but I was no where in the realm of psycho ex. I merely stated two things toward him and his girlfriend (who in the past he said looked like a man) and her little boy.

I thanked him for the bankruptcy option that the two of us will need to agree to in order to get divorced (details further down). I then addressed her : I hope he is good with your kid - he was Terrible with mine.

Humanling and I hiked. I did not enjoy it while shaking and reliving the events that caused me to waste much of my energy and lose a lot of time with my daughter due to babysitting his purple acne spotted ass.

We dated and within 2 months we were married. I was against being in a relationship with him and stressed that our ages were too far apart for it to be serious. He pushed the issue. Over and over. He stressed how DEEP he was. And how he'd NeverFeltLikeThisBefore. So I gave in to the relationship, only to give in to the proposal as well. The stupiest thing I'd ever done. Even over marrying Cavey (HL's father).

I gotta stress people - KNOW that person long enough before you do it. I know it works out for the best sometimes and that's great. But for those who figure out after I Do - it's way harder to get out of than it was to get into.

Since he and I were very much into Him and not too much else (my pursuits became squelched easily around him) we figured out that he was most likely a carrying card member of Bipolar II (not that there's anything wrong with it.). Night and day we both tried to keep him happy. Only a year and half before I married him, he lie in a coma in the hospital because he forgot about the damn airbag. Failed suicide. But the tree still stands.

Warning? What red flag? My solid gold oars row me down De'Nile quite nicely.

And of course there was the promise that he was 'better' and would never contemplate doing that again. Until after we were married and he wanted me to promise to Thelma and Louise when we were ready. Uh, sorry baby, you're not worth that much to me. That was one thing I couldn't agree with. I like life. I like so many - too many - things. I find beauty EVERYF*CKINGWHERE.

After the wedding, he started to show how much he disliked Humanling. He found fault with her at every turn. She was only seven. Her greatest issue being that she was sprouted out of another man's body. I can understand that this is huge for a lot of guys. But don't marry the girl and look into the little girl's eyes and tell her "I'm going to be here forever. I'm never leaving." if you think you're going to pop a nut over who her daddy is.

That one alone, the dislike for my girl, is enough to make me go Vigilante. Dumb f*ck. How can you fault a kid? Yeah, some of them are annoying, it's true. Don't make the kid a part of your daily landscape if you can't handle it.

He was a bratty musician who had all kinds of instruments. He moved in with me into my apartment and his stuff couldn't come with. So down the road we set off to buy a home that would supply him the room he needed for his royal Bipolar 2ness to have his very own room for a studio. It meant everything to me to keep this boy happy. When he got upset, which was every quarter in the hour, I scrambled to Fix It.

A few things in the daily life that upset him:

I could not squat down in a public place, for my shirt might lift up slightly in the back and guys everywhere will sprout a rod because they can see my skin. Going grocery shopping became a problem because I'd have to stretch up to get things on a shelf and that was a no-no. He'd become depressed before we even left the house at the prospect.

Short sleeved shirts were not out, but frowned upon because my arms were showing.

Absolutely no short skirts. And my shirts had to make me look at first glance, like a man or give enough so that maybe I had an extra 10 pounds on me but you couldn't really tell because it was so baggy.

No eyeliner. THAT would be drawing attention to my eyes and begging for more hard-ons from the general public.

Don't hug his father. His dad was 52 and I was 36. I guess this was a threat that I was getting a little fantasy action during a salute to my in-laws. He didn't complain that I hugged his mom. I was also told that I kissed his father too close to the lips and that his dad agreed that this was true. Sorry people, I am sort of friendly but I am not illegal.

When dressing in the morning, he would survey me for the thing out of place that would ruin his entire day. Was it the necklace? Was it too sexy? Was it my SHOES??? Oh god, change the shoes, I can't deal with the text messages all day.

If I didn't answer his texts right away, he would assume that I was making babies with some co-worker in a conference room.

I couldn't go for a walk at lunch time outside unless I had a jacket on covering my butt. Because otherwise I was "shaking my ass for everyone to see".

I had a pair of furry red gloves. Apparently the Elmo gloves were out of line sexy because those became the focus of my alleged need for attention.

According to him, my parents were complete losers because although both have moved on and remarried (they split in 1979) they hug and kiss on the cheek when they see each other. However, it was ok that his dad used a prostitute while married to his mom during a Not Getting Any phase.

As we searched for a house, I found out that I was pregnant. This is probably not something a lot of people would want to advertise, but the truth sets us free and I am not going to hide who I am or who he is. He left me immediately. He ran home to suck off mommy and daddy's teats and his daddy sent him right back until things were "taken care of". He said he would leave for sure if I had it, and was pretty sure he was leaving anyway. I had already been a single mom for ages and one with two jobs for most of Humanling's life up to that point. The challenge of raising a couple of them alone did not appeal to me. We did what he wanted. Right before that though, he told me that he wanted to stay - only if we disposed of his waste though. Later on he admitted that he only stayed because he was afraid of Humanling's father, who earlier on, told him that if he ever hurt me or his daughter, he would kill him.

I'm not proud of some of my life's choices. This is one of those times where family and friends offered to find solutions. But how can anyone, good intentioned as they may be, be there 24/7 in life application? In theory it sounded great.

I asked him if we should continue pursuing our house. He said yes. We pursued. I got the worst headache of my life for a week before we signed those papers. God's desperate warning for me to step back. But if I can't learn something the hard way most times, then I won't learn it at all. I warned the Blockhead that this was not something easily undoable. Was he sure. Really really really sure?

Yes he was. Let's sign the papers.

I couldn't go out with my friends. If I did, it was a coffee shop while I wore soccer mom clothes, hair and no make up. I had to text him the entire time. He was SUCH A DOWNER. I told him on Fridays to go out with his friends or do whatever he wanted but then he said he didn't want to because he realized that he'd have to give me equal freedom. Something he couldn't do. The boy cried every single day and on the days he didn't, he would tell me that he was waiting for the moment where it would start.

We moved in April of 2007. He left August of 2007. We'd paid only 2 months of mortgage payments.

As he ran home to the breasts of mama again, I was left to keep the house clean for showings. People came in constantly. Humanling and I could not just live without being on a schedule for someone. I hated it and hated that he could run off scott free and mommy will make him his boiled eggs and daddy would sit by his bed to be sure that he wasn't slitting his wrists.

Which reminds me - he had me sit and watch The Bridge with him. Real suicides. I was a wreck leading up to it but it was well done, thankfully. If something like that Can be well done. This was.

He seemed disappointed somehow in it. What did he want to see?

Perhaps this shows insight to someone like :doot: who probably wonders how I can possibly enjoy so much alone time. There's a little bit of aftershock still. The emotional part as far as missing him ended eons ago. He set me free. I would never ever repeat the marriage or want him back in a million years. When he left, he emailed me a list of things that suck about me. One of them was that he did not like Humanling. Another was that he hated my cat. A person who hates animals is not cool.

He hated that I would freak if he wanted to kill a stray bee in the house. I had to catch it and put it outside. I think it made him feel like less of a man because he wouldn't be the one to do it. It would be me.

I did all the painting and minor home repairs. He had very clean hands.

And now I pose a few questions for his girlfriend:

Does he bitch that your son needs you? Perhaps your little boy who looks about six years old should get out and get a job so that you can pay more attention to Blockhead's needs.

Are his balls still oozing that nasty smelling crap that he says is just some benign rash?

Does he clog the tub still with all the Whatever that comes off his body on a daily basis?

Does saturate your bathroom in peach Glade after he has deuced your plumbing?

Does he like you to talk about all your exes in glorious phallic detail while you have sex with him and then beg you when it's over never to mention it again, yet does it again next time?

Did he ask you to "Dive!" and be his, go deeper and really really feel him on a soul level?

Does he deserve an iron on patch that says "enigma" on it because that's what he liked to lecture me that he is.

Does he resent your child for having a bad dream and knocking on the bedroom door at night?

Did you have to somehow obliterate your ex of the face of all that exists because otherwise bringing up the name of your child's dad for any reason send him into a nine day depression that causes you to question whether or not you should feel bad for having a past? Especially since you are way older than him, which you are, because I know who you are.

When he talks to you of his suicide, does he sound proud and drive it home that At least he actually TRIED it and didn't just TALK about it like some people do. He's just SO crazy isn't he?!

***Where does all this stand now? The divorce has been on for about a year. I haven't seen his enormous head since early August of 2007. Until today. And it brought all the anger back, with fresh lemon scent!

Because we owned a home - if you can call it owning - we are most likely going bankrupt if the attempt at the current short sale does not go through. He has a lawyer that his parents are paying for. They don't want to see him hurt himself again so I'm sure they are doing whatever they have to in order to keep his head safe. I had a lawyer but she got expensive and bled $3500 out of me until I decided to go pro se and leave it to God, with well wishes. In the meantime even though I am a single parent with just the one job (I like raising my own child myself thanks, I don't need to be away on the weekends as well), who's child has special medical needs and I don't receive child support, he wanted to stick me with 75% of the loss of the house while he skated off with 25% - on paper I make more. On paper I also have more bills and am absent one grandfather who is filthy rich and can buy a car straight out if someone chooses to total his into a tree. His lawyer informed him that no, it should be 50/50. What a man.

I am trying to send love to this situation to not get angry because it only sucks for me in that case. I have a child to single handedly raise. I don't have downtime for the bad juju that goes with exes sometimes.

Why did I stay? Because I was married. Because I have a tendency to want to perfect, to fix it. Because I believe that things really do get better. You just have to want them to. Only one of us believed that - however, things did get better for me anyway.

So now that the steam is fading, thanks for dealing with a rant. We are really lucky Humanling and I. Because I know what freedom is now. I thank God every chance that I get for my life and how it runs ever since he left. Because this is truly the best time I've ever had. I love my life. I could say it over and over. I am happy to be out of prison.

Rant!

Just wanted to relay a conversation with Cavey because he is clearly on his own set of rules.

He calls tonight - the first time in HOW long, and says How's the baby. I say that she's asleep because its after Late O'Clock. He says he broke his foot. WTF. He 'broke' his shoulder 2 weeks ago and 'broke' his hand a week ago. I ask how he broke his hand. He says punching something when he found out his uncle died - which is a lie. He already told me that he broke it one day when I stopped over BEFORE he knew anything about his uncle being close to death, and still hadn't yet passed. So I called him on it and he said, "Oh. Then I broke it when I got mad about something else". REALLY? Say it isn't so!

So I ask how he broke his foot. My theory is that he busted it kicking a ringing phone clear across the room that could have been someone calling to give him work. He says his foot found a ditch. So I said that I can never know if he's lying or not because of how he sounds. He said that he was walking 'someone' home through the woods and fell in a ditch. So I said what's the big deal why can't you say who she is because otherwise you wouldn't use 'someone' and its not like I'm going to be mad because I don't care about that. He says *18* of course. The 18 year old girl (mind that he is 33 going on 34 this year.) I have no problem with him with whatever age but if he is going to spend all his time and pocket lint on someone other than his daughter, it had better be an emergency and not another beer run. As soon as *18* turns *21* and can buy her own booze, I'm sure she will have better things to do than walk through the woods with a guy who's body spontaneously breaks everywhere.

So then he said that he was hoping to speak to Humanling and I said IT'S Late O'Clock - why would she be up? Why can't he call when she's awake?? He said he doesn't have a cell now. So I said "I'm going to be straight with you. I know you are having a hard time with stuff right now so this might sound harsh, but you need to get in parent mode. You are not in parent mode at all. " He says "you're damn straight I'm not in parent mode because I don't have a cell" WHAT???? I didn't have a cell when I conceived! How on earth after Humanling's birth could the hospital have let us go home without one? Apparently Virgin Mobile issued me my first parental pass back in 2005 and then I must have crossed that line into Officiality. So I said that if he needed to call *18* or *20*, he'd find a way, or his band, or one of his friends. I then said further that there is no reason he can't come see her. He said he doesn't have a car. IS TOO HARD TO WALK??? Let me tell you the distance to his house from my house. We are basically joined by one road. It takes little over one full minute by car, maybe two on an upwind day, five minutes by bicycle, and about 20 minutes walking to get from mi casa to Dillweed's casa. With his abilities, he could jet fart his way here in less than 10 minutes in small spurts. I said that I understand about his foot right now but there is no reason he can't WALK his ass over here and see her. He is yelling at me at this point, saying something about he can't come see her because I have some puerto rican over etc etc. (This would be about :doot: who isn't PR, [said in Seinfeld] Not that there's anything WRONG with it) So I just said with pristine annunciation Listen you Mother f**king A**hole....and he hung up. IS HE KIDDING???? IS HE F**KING KIDDING????? UGH!!!!! My beloved Humanling does not deserve this. She says things DAILY about him. She wanted to swing by his house tonight on the way to the water park to ask if he will get her off the bus this year. Poor thing. I said fine, ask him by phone, we are not swinging by. I am not taking you there. He needs to come to you and come to our house. I am no longer in the business of making this easy for his ass.

I know its all bad vibes and negative but damn, he pisses me off.

No wonder when I challenged her to a game the other night, it went like this - "What rhymes with car?"

She answered without missing a beat, "My dad drinks at a bar!"

Nuff said!