monday monday

it has come down to this. a friday before a monday. in a few short days i will know one way or another which way to turn. it's all overwhelming to think of and know the consequences are so great. on the other hand i feel prepared and grounded. could say these concrete shoes aren't such a bad idea after all.

it has been three months, three excruciatingly long months, since assface (i have tired of the fucktard monicker so thought about trying out assface) and i sat down with our attorneys and a mediator to try and hammer out a settlement agreement. after 6 hours of what would turn out to be useless negotiations, i walked away. resigning myself to the fact that i would have to move forward and take him before a judge. let a judge decide the fate of our property, our children, our lives. wow, me no likey other people making decisions about my entire life without so much as my input!!!!


i walked away from that meeting not at all disappointed with the outcome but again disappointed with his inability to change. blah blah blah....get the hell over it, e!! did you really expect something else??? long story short, fast forward 3 months later and we are now at a stand still. assface (not sure this name is working yet) made me an offer three months ago with no written agreement. in 3 months time we have been back and forth and back and forth again. this time, he has had an agreement, a final draft after i don't know how many changes, for 2 weeks. 2 entire fucking weeks and he has yet to respond.

i had a real epiphany, big surprise, when i had to let my children go the other night. it was halloween. every year on halloween the kids get dressed up and go trickin and treatin in the neighborhood with other kids and their families. this year turd-knuckle (not sure where this one came from but i kind of like it) had the children for the weekend. so instead of me taking them around the hood, he had the honors. and it is an honor. being able to share that experience with our children is special. more special than i realized. so here i am. i picked them up for about an hour and got them ready in their costumes, took some pictures of them, let them visit with my parents and then it was time to drop them off back at the house. what happened next was unexpected.

i stood in my yard, my grass that i painstakingly care for, surrounded by the overgrown shrubbery that i planted, surrounded by the house that i put so much time and care and love into and it wasn't mine. it just wasn't mine anymore and this place didn't belong to me and i didn't belong to it. it hurt. it hurt deep down in my bones and i suddenly felt overwhelmed with sadness and hurt which translated itself into anger. to make matters worse, i had to leave my children there to take part in something that i enjoyed every damn year. every year i looked forward to halloween and now i had to pull out of my own driveway. it didn't make matters any better that turd-knuckle went out and bought great decorations for the holiday after years of telling me i couldn't do the same. fucker.

that's when it hit me. he has fucked with my life for long enough. i continue to be held by this man's incomprehensible hatred and disgust for me. i could have fucked his brother and still not deserved the abuse that i've received since leaving him. one of my best friends described him as a "dark soul". i had never thought of that term (personally i just like mother fucking piece of shit but dark soul works too) but it truly describes him. he has no joy. he has no happiness or genuine love. he is an empty man with an empty dark soul.

so i decided to put an end to this dragging of feet, holding it over my head. monday is the deadline. and when i say deadline, turd-knuckle has until noon on monday to have the agreement signed and on my attorney's desk. at 12:01 it expires. i won't accept it after that. this is a final chance for him. a chance that will benefit only one person and trust me on this one, he doesn't deserve it. he doesn't deserve this one last chance. one way or another monday is when i wash my hands of this debacle. it's also the day that the gloves come off for good.

somehow though i think i may be the only one who hears the timer. even i have a limit.

a laborer's hand

Of life's two chief prizes, beauty and truth, I found the first in a loving heart and the second in a laborer's hand.  
Kahlil Gibran

exploding dragons!!!

exploding dragons
mood: amused

so yeah. exploding dog aka sam brown has done it again.

i swear to you that this man must have me bugged to be able to illustrate my life, struggles, people who make up my existence so very well. again with the dragon series and i am absolutely in love with these two in particular. these are getting printed and hung in my house as soon as this whole debacle is over. 

Last Man Standing

In our old house we had a kitchen faucet that leaked. When I say leaked, I mean that the pipe under the sink would fill a regular size bucket in roughly a week’s time. It started after we had lived in the house about 2 years. I discovered it one day, with a 1 year old on my hip, and immediately told the man of the house. This was my first mistake. Second mistake was thinking that anything would be done to alleviate the problem.  Fast forward 8 years…the pipe was still leaking and every week the supposed “man” of the house would dump out the bucket. On and on and on it went until I finally got so damn tired of it that I called a plumber, didn’t tell Mr. Know It All and $35 later, the pipe was fixed. I was scolded. I was demeaned and so on and so on and so on. 

Yes, this was my reality. For 14 years I stayed with a man who was so completely irrational, so ridiculously stubborn that he would rather empty a bucket every week for 8 years than call a repair man and spend what he believed could have been an enormous amount of money. Yeah, a whopping $35…how does the saying go again? He cut off his nose to spite his face? Yep, that’s the one.

And this is what I find myself faced with yet again. I am at the tail end of what should have been an easy divorce agreement. We don’t have enormous assets or large bank accounts. We don’t have complicated bills or agreements or investments. We have very little in the grand scheme of things. Yet here I am 9 months after finally starting the divorce process, 11 months after leaving him and over a year into my wake up call for a better life. It’s a fucking three ring circus. But I’m not the ring master on this one. No sir, not me. This is all about fucktard and his need, his drive to punish me, control me and make everyone’s lives that much harder. 

We have gone back and forth, back and forth, and then, back and forth again. I feel like I’m chasing my tail. One day I have a firm grasp of things, issues, negotiating points and then less than 24 hours later, it is all turned upside down. Why? Who the fuck knows. I certainly don’t know anymore. This should have been signed, sealed and delivered long ago but time and time again he comes back with another stall tactic, another failed attempt at controlling me, another excuse as to why we can’t settle this entire matter once and for all.

What’s a smart woman to do? I’ll tell you what I did. I had my attorney finally schedule a trial date. I had my attorney send back the agreement for the millionth time and tell him that we were done negotiating. Either sign it or go to trial, end of discussion. Unfortunately, that’s the direction it seems to be heading. Off to trial to let a judge decide what we should and should not do. Granted, I am confident, as is my incredibly badass attorney, that the law is on my side and that I will get what I need from this divorce. Unfortunately for fucktard he is putting himself in a position to lose more custodial rights, visitation time with his children, required to give me significantly more spousal and child support, lose his right to overnight visits and lose his precious house.

All of this could have been avoided. All of it, all the pain he has caused his own flesh and blood, all the struggling and fighting and arguing and name calling. I’m not a perfect example of the proper way to handle a divorce, if there even is a right way, but each and every time I put our differences aside and try to do the right thing. It gets other people upset at me for not being tougher or meaner and I understand their frustration with me. But it’s my nature, my overly naïve nature, to put my anger to the side and try to move through it to a compromise or a middle ground.

That’s over. I’ve been pushed one too many times. I can honestly say that it’s a double edged sword having given him this ultimatum to either shit or get off the pot. If he signs it, I move onward and upward quickly and on the terms I have agreed upon. I’ve been craving this final piece of the puzzle for such a long time and I want it so badly. On the other hand I want to see him exposed for the man he is behind closed doors, away from this picture he has painted of himself as the victim. I want to expose the terrible things he has said to me, the way he has treated me, the way he has mistreated and disrespected his own children, refused to pay for their medical care, made bad decisions time and time again. And all of it, every last bit of it can and will be proven in court. But it delays my process of moving forward that much more. Caught between my desire for a fresh new start and my desire to make his life a living hell and take away everything he has taken away from me. That vengeful part of me is an ugly part and I rarely look her square in the mirror but right now, she’s shining back clear as day.

I never know what will happen next but it appears that I will know soon enough. All of this will be over soon, one way or another. All because he doesn’t want to pay the plumber to come take a look at the pipes, fix them properly and put everything back into working order. This may be the bucket that overflows on his ass and finally floods the kitchen. But that’s his choice, not mine.

knit me this

knit me this
Current mood:  bummed 

 

 

i recently took up a hobby that i find therapeutic. keeps my hands occupied, my mind calm and i get to make shit that looks purty. i have taught myself the art of crochet. yes, my nerdy undercoating is beginning to show. but fuck, it helps me get through some of the shenanigan's that go on around here.

as i was diligently working on a project this morning, in an effort to avoid my shitty ass day, i remembered something my mother told me a while ago. she has also been hit by the fiber bug and has been knitting like a fool lately so the metaphor is fresh in both of our minds.

the damage that i have done to myself over the years is not going to be undone overnight. like pulling a yarn on a sweater, it will not unravel immediately but row by meticulous row. each stitch is an individualized part of something larger. every single stitch was made and now needs to be unmade. so as much as we want that sweater to become undone and no longer be a sweater, it doesn't happen overnight. it takes just as long to unfuck it as it did to fuck it up. takes a while to wind that ball of yarn back up.

for me i don't want to remake that sweater. i want a new, individualized version of that sweater. something brighter, sweeter, prettier. it was way too heavy to begin with, never fit properly and didn't show off my voluptuous figure. i do however find a great deal of value in the yarn. my fibers are still sturdy and perfectly good. a little tattered, yes. i am definitely tattered and worn. on the inside and out. the inside is starting to come back together, or apart however the case may be. i'm already well on my way to rebuilding myself from deep down thanks to some serious love and support from so many that i hold so dear. the rebuilding of the exterior is another blog in and of itself but in due time.

however, the more and more that i unravel this shitty ass sweater, the more and more knots and tattered edges i find. it surprises me, really. it definitely wasn't stitched with care or love but was fucked up from the very first loop. i get to the end of the yarn and think, what more? what now? and then poof, there's more and it's even worse than the last row of stitches. fuck me! took me off guard just a few days ago when i was hit below the belt yet again. every time i think i'm at the end of the yarn, there's another ball waiting to be unfucked. i'm exhausted trying to unfuck my life and trying to handle all that it involves, including that piece of shit excuse of a man who did a good amount of the damage.

days like today make me feel like i should have left the sweater alone. i know that's not the real way that i feel but goddamn, give me a fucking break already! i would love just one small piece of stability or normalcy or a long uninterrupted pity party. maybe that's what i need. to hermit myself in my dark little hole and wallow for a while. i haven't done it in a while and perhaps it's just another part of the process. another unwinding, untangling, pulling out the stitches.

Master of My Domain

Master of My Domain

Mood: Frisky!

There are advantages and disadvantages to every lifestyle choice. For me, being married to a shitty ass man wasn’t working anymore. Go figure. So I jumped in feet first and now 10 months later (yes 10 months) I am living as a semi-single bachelorette. 

I say semi-single for a couple of reasons. The first being that I’m still not divorce from said shitty ass man and am frustrated with the legalities. If I let it, it would eat me alive! The second reason is that the kids are with me nearly 70% of the time. That means that when I have time to myself, I take full advantage. It’s actually kind of cool getting a scheduled break from being a mom. I’ve never had that before and although I miss the kids desperately sometimes it is a welcome break from being a full time, stay at home mom. And no, it’s not nearly as easy as it looks!

When I do have some “me” time I have learned to use it in several different ways. On occasion I turn off the phone, computer, TV, everything and just meditate. Sometime I spend time with my stud. As much time as I possibly can when he’s available. Occasionally I just get caught up on bullshit tasks that go uncared for during the times when the kids are around.

I have found one very interesting advantage to my semi-single status...I get to be “intimate” with myself in a way I never have before. 14 years of being in a non-sexual relationship with an emotionally unavailable man left a void. A really deep void! Granted, that void is well cared for by a wonderfully skilled lover but I needed something more. I needed to figure out what I liked. Before my marriage I experimented and was open to new and different experiences. But once I met fucktard, all of that went out the window, including exploring my own likes and dislikes.

Now I feel like I’m rediscovering my body. I’ve talked about it before but this whole process has been somewhat of a sexual reawakening for me. What I didn’t anticipate was that I didn’t just reawaken but I am discovering new and wonderful possibilities in the realm of carnal pleasure. It’s wild to suddenly discover that you like to be touched in a new way, in a new place. I can literally wake up in the middle of the night from some wild sex-capade dream and take advantage of myself. It’s fucking kick-ass and a hell of a lot of fun exploring this almost 38 year old body.

What’s even better is that I can take that knowledge into the bedroom and explore it with my sweet man. He’s a quick study. And I’m discovering that my pleasure is much deeper and more satisfying than in my 20’s. I am really, really enjoying this process and plan to play it out as long as possible. I am indeed “master of my domain” in my own way.

Staying married=zero. Being semi-single=priceless!!!

september 20th....quick sand

quick sand
Current mood:swallowed 

 

I imagine this is how it feels to be caught in quick sand. I have heard it described and understand its physical properties as a sort of vacuum. In essence, it uses your body’s energy to propel itself. Your energy literally charges the quick sand to become a deadly assassin. Fight hard and it fights harder and it wins. It will win.

My anger has become my very own quick sand and I’m scared of its power over me. I am angry. I am being eaten from the inside out. I have been carrying around all of this hate and anger. And it’s not just about fucktard and this ridiculous circus that has become my divorce. Nope. That’s just the icing on the quick sand cake.

I am angry. Very angry. Filled with a rage and a fire that I didn’t realize was so alive. A part I have long denied because it makes my skin uncomfortable, tight, itchy, ugly. I hate the anger. I hate the hate. I hate the part of me that woke up along with all the other parts of me that I like. I want to erase it and make it go away forever. Childish? Yes, very much so but that’s what I want. I want the quicksand to go away! I want it to eat itself. I don’t want to propel it and let it devour me. But that’s how it feels. I feel like I’m being devoured by this rage.

Unfortunately it is a very real part of me. We all carry around some anger or hate or rage about something or someone or perhaps about ourselves. For me it unfolds itself and reveals places and things and people and events. All of them add up to this enormous rage that makes me feel dirty and ugly. I hate some of my choices, I hate the choices of others that have affected me, I hate the injustice that surrounds the rape, I hate the man that I trusted to care for me, I hate myself for not caring, I hate that hate, I hate that I let those choices become something other than choices. They feel concrete and heavy and unshakable. And the harder I fight, the harder they fight back. I am literally being swallowed by this fire and I’m just not sure how to put it out.

What I really want to do is hit something or someone or myself for that matter. For some reason it manifests itself in my need for physical release. I want to hit them, I want to hit it, with all my force, with all my rage and power and hate. I want to take it apart and rip it from end to end until all the rage is released and I feel comfortable again. I have to make peace with myself and with the parts of me that are good and bad. I need to make peace with the unjust nature of myself and others. With the monsters that are under the bed and in the closets and now apparently are no longer comfortable being hidden. I don’t want to embrace them or give them the time or energy and yet they take it anyway so why not do it on my terms, right? I long for some great strategy to fight the beast that is a part of me. I know better than to try and put it back in the deep dark corner. This whole fucking outpouring of emotion is really starting to piss me off. Denial is so much easier.

I imagine this is what it feels like to be caught in the quick, to be caught in the rage, to be caught and unable to break free. My energy feeds the beast that is the quick sand and only my energy can calm it. Fuck.

september 12th...my fictionary

my fictionary
Current mood: tongue tied 

I was on the phone with my brother tonight when he brought up something I hadn’t really noticed about myself. I like to make shit up. I like to make up words that better express the way I feel about life.

I like to take a few words and smoosh them all together to come up with my own expression of how it really feels, not just how part of it feels. I mean really. If you feel sad then just say you’re sad. If you feel pathetic, then just say pathetic. But what about when you feel sad that you are pathetic…well that’s just Pathetisad. See, much more expressive and to the point.

The conversation with my brother had me laughing as he used “craptastic” when he was talking to me and said it’s his favorite one of my terms. My terms? My fictionary? I didn’t realize I had created this whole counter culture language among my friends and family. Granted, Urban Dictionary has set the bar incredible high with some favorites such as “Batshit Signal: like the bat signal but used to summon someone crazy” and a recent addition that made me giggle “Vatican Roulette: another term for the rhythm method of birth control”.

So I decided to turn to friends and family and see if anyone else felt that I had my own language. The response was a resounding YES. Holee shitballs, these people think I have my own language. I think it’s funny but I make shit up because I just can’t find the words. Sometimes I find our language is just too vapid and stagnant for what goes on in my brain. Why not bring some life to your typical terms and spice it up. Besides, it makes your tongue feel all tingly and silly.

Here are some of the highlights that were either brought to my attention, some of which I had forgotten using, and others which are simply stuck in my head and rarely come out to play. Some are adopted from movie terms or are things I’ve heard along the way but they are definitely a part of my lingual routine. I’m also apt to put “tastic”, “rific” or “ism” onto just about any term and take them from zero to hero in no time! But rest assured that my fictionary is far from being finished. I think I’ll be coming up with and playing with my own words well into my old age.  

Fucktard: pretty self explanatory at this point in the game. And yes, the ex really is a “fucking retarded” piece of work. Hence, fucktard!

Sharted: when you fart but instead a little shit comes out. This term has been used in a few movies but I remember saying it before hearing it on the big screen

Holee Shnikes: a term similar to Holee Shit but adopted from the genius that is “Tommy Boy”

Badassedness: term describing me kicking some serious ass in this life. Booyah!

Iris: if you don't know at this point then just don't read the fucking blog. 

Fan-damn-tastic: everything’s better with damn thrown in the middle

Craptastic, Craptasticism and general terms involving the term crap: so crappy that it’s simply fantastic with a major dose of sarchasm

1800rentastud: a term of endearment for the love of my life who just happens to be a stud in bed too.

Man Buffet (I even entered this into Urban Dictionary): look the fucking thing up. It’s a good one. Also in the running was Cornucopia of Cock but I went the Buffet route instead.

Snappytastic or Snaptastic:  hate it when people say “oh snap” in that lovely ghetto tone but come on, from a cracker ass like me? Nope. I can’t pull it off so snappytastic is the next best thing.

The Tuesday Curse: for some reason Tuesdays are notoriously bad for me. Fucktard almost always makes an appearance or stirs up trouble on Tuesdays. No one knows why but I designed Kevlar pants for fighting with him on those given days. Unfortunately they rarely work but my ass does look fan-damn-tastic in them.

Kevlar pants: imaginary pants made of fire proof material to fight the “dragon” that is “fucktard”. Generally should be worn on Monway’s (aka Tuesday’s) which just happen to be cursed. Did I mention my ass looks fan-damn-tastic in them? yeah, i thought so.

Monway: I no longer consider Tuesday’s a day (see sa­id curse). Therefore I have decided that they will be called Monday and Wednesday sandwiched to make a Monway. See, it works.

Fraynch Toast Fridays: started roughly a year ago as a way to see Switch while still married to fucktard. We would meet up on a Friday morning, take care of some “things” and then go eat the hell out of some fucking fraynch toast while laughing about our naughty morning. I have come to treasure having Fraynch toast with my sweetie any time, any day.

Switch!!!: the anonymous name I use for the wonderful man in my life. He would scream it in the halls of our high school and scare the shit out of me. He would just randomly sneak up behind me or walk right up to my face and yell “SWITCH!”. No idea why but it was yet another endearing quality…if you can call that a quality.

Nutter McButter, Nutty Butty, Nutt Fucking Butt, or variations of said “Nutter Butter”: a term I use with my very best friend to simply say “I’m having a crazy fucking day. Help!”. Just text “Nutter Butter” and we know that it’s gonna be that kind of day.

Fresh Pots: see Dave Grohl and TCV discussing his caffeine addiction on YouTube. It’s a fucking riot. I’ve been known to just call up my friends and yell “fresh pots” and hang up. Yeah, I have serious issues with caffeine and His Grohliness.

His Grohliness, Grohltastic, Grohli-smokes, and all terms of endearment for the godlike Mr. Dave Grohl: I’m infatuated with His Grohliness and all things Grohl-o-rific. See. It’s Grohltastic!

And last but certainly not least….

The Westley to my Buttercup: Princess Bride reference used in conjunction with my love affair. He is my Westley, a man with unrequited love for a beautiful princess...okay I’m not a beautiful princess but a girl can dream. When he said “as you wish” he meant “I love you”. Come to find out Buttercup actually loves him in return. I compared Switch to Westley back when we were teenagers. I always thought he was a good guy who went unrecognized, sort of like Westley. He remembered it for all these years and carried a flame for me along with that memory. Little did I know he would turn out to be my Westley and that I would love him like no other. I love being Buttercup.

x marks the spot

x marks the spot
Current mood:  amused

When you grow up, grow out and eventually grow back into the same city there are a few strings attached that perhaps don’t exist in other relationships. For example, my kids go to an elementary school where their classmates are the children of people that I went to elementary school. Swirl that one around for a while. It’s insane. I’m a pretty social person too so as they say round these parts – we are a large city with a small city vibe. And it’s the truth.

Your past comes back to haunt you, good and bad, romantic or otherwise, and so do some of those very ghosts that made those memories. I have one particular ghost that is anything but a ghost and instead more like a shadow. He’s everywhere and into everything. He is literally a part of my life again. For the sake of anonymity we are gonna call him D.

I met D when I was 13. We were both at a holiday party thrown by his father and his law partner. It just so happens that D’s dad was partners in a law practice with a guy who is best friends with my parents. See. Big city, small town….there is no anonymity here. D and his family lived about 3 blocks away from me so we knew each other through the neighborhood as well. My only thought of D was that of a very bright, driven, smart, Jewish, athletic guy who could make me laugh. But that was where it stopped. He was a homey from the hood and I was a strawberry blonde ballerina who went to private school. Polar opposites.

A few years later we became close friends during high school. It was our senior year and for some reason we were drawn to each other as friends, nothing more. We were on the yearbook staff together, drove to school together. Hell, I even asked him to be my platonic date at the Prom that year but he declined since he wasn’t going. Instead he showed up with another girl and there was part of me that was really crushed. I still bust his chops about it to this day and he says he still remembers seeing me across the room go from a glowing beauty to a red hot firecracker in seconds.

We both left town and went exploring. I went to Savannah, among other places, and D went to North Carolina. A few years later on a long Thanksgiving weekend, I was going to be stopping overnight in his neck of the woods. I looked him up, we went to a coffee shop, we talked, we laughed, we made googley eyes at each other and for the first time I saw him as something more than the boy down the street. This was a man. A smart man. A good man. A driven man. A kind man.

Needless to say, that’s where it started and it continued on in what I can only call a true romance. He swept me off my feet, I swept him off of his and we were young and in love. This lasted for nearly 3 years. In that time D had graduated with honors from UNC and was now in law school at UF. I had moved back to our little big city to be closer to Gainesville. We saw each other every weekend. Um, yeah, it was long distance. As a matter of fact, we were growing apart and wanted different things in our lives. At one time or another I thought this guy was the “one”. I thought, damn, I’m gonna be Mrs. D. one day and I liked that idea at the time. I don’t regret ending it though. It never would have worked for us. Never.

I ended it and immediately rebounded with none other than fucktard. D was devastated. I was devastated too but I just knew it wasn’t going to work in the long run. At the time, that’s all I wanted was the long run. The white picket fence, the 2.5 kids, the dog, the minivan. Yep. I could taste suburban bliss and somehow thought that was the life for me. Boy was I wrong.

So we both moved on with our lives. I married sperm donor, few years later bought a house and a few years later had a baby. I would hear through the grapevine about D’s life but we didn’t stay in close contact. Then one day I was taking a bike ride in my hood and saw him. Going into a house. That he had just bought. Right down the street from me. Are you fucking serious? My ex now officially lived in my neighborhood. Turns out he was about to get married and it also turns out that we were about to make amends. We became friends again. No hard feelings. No worries. No tension. Just like the good old days when I would roller-skate with my friends and he would be in the yard hitting baseballs with his friends. Yeah. It was all surreal and fucktard never could swallow the fact that we were friends.

But you want to know something. D is one of the first people I called when my marriage finally fell apart last year. He’s the one that I called when I knew there was no turning back. I told him about what had happened before I even told my family. Why? Because there was no criticism, he had nothing to gain and I knew that if I wanted an honest opinion of the situation, he was the one. I always trusted him to protect me and love me and honor me. He sat with me for hours talking about the ins and outs of what being divorced would mean and how the hell I could do it. He sat with me and talked and reminisced and made me feel the way he always made me feel. I felt validated. I felt like a real person again. He saw me for who I was and what I was going through, not as an ex-girlfriend that he’d gladly help stab in the back. I still talk to him every week whether it's email or IM or on the phone. Sometimes he just gives me a ring to check up on me, see how I'm doing, see what's happening and to give legal advice if I need it. And sometimes I call him, doubting myself and what I'm doing and he's always there to lend an ear as a friend. He also thinks it's funny that I ask him things like "when we dated, was I high maintenance?" or "when we dated was I.....". Yeah, it gets pretty silly sometimes.

I know it’s an unusual relationship. A complicated one if there is a jealous spouse or partner but for us it’s just so simple. It’s different for us and it makes perfect sense. We respect one another. We love one another. We enjoy one another. Does that mean I have romantic feelings for this guy anymore? Hell no. But it never really was about that. The reason we worked well as a couple was because of that admiration. We are loyal to each other and to our friendship and honestly I can’t imagine it any other way. It always was about the respect and the kindness. And as a friend, I couldn’t ask for anything better.

On an end note though, it was a little peculiar being at my 20 year high school reunion on the arm of my sweet man, switch, all the while talking to my sweet ex-boyfriend D. Yeah, we all graduated from high school together. Big fucking city, ridiculously small town! In case I failed to mention, D is also handling some legal matters for switch so it’s a real incestuous thing. D even went so far as to give switch advice for when he meets my family. All the while I’m thinking about how “intimately” each of them knows me and how I really hoped to god that they didn’t start comparing notes. I needed another drink stat! Honestly, it’s so uncomfortable that it’s comfortable. I’m especially thankful that switch isn’t jealous or suspicious or insecure about my love for him. He knows he has my heart and no one else could take his place. But still, can you saw awkward? I love my crazy quirky life and all the crazy quirky people in it…even the ex.

september 5th...only light remains

only light remains
Current mood:  artistic 

 

this blog has turned into more than a playground for my life. it's a vessel. i can pour into it what i like. drink from it and fill it again and again and again.

yeah, so i'm going through some sort of introspective, artistic, expressive feelings lately. good ones and bad ones but mostly good. and most of it is based feeling lucky to be where i am and have what i have at this very moment. one step, one day, one minute, one movement at a time. so yeah, whatever i write during this period should be taken with a grain of "grateful salt" and i certainly hope i don't look back at this and think delusional rainbows and puppies and sunshine and instead see it for the stream of consciousness instead.

life is giving me plenty to fill it with, both sweet and sour, but not enough time to give it proper attention. i had no idea it could be so cathartic and such an enormous part of me. then again it is "me" just putting it out there. in writing. i don't live with regret often but i do regret not giving myself the credit or time i deserved long ago. i think it's the one thing i will always regret. not embracing this freedom earlier. 

all because of a day, a night, a love, a moment, a man, a darkness and a spill. a flood, washing over and washing out everything in it's way. the ebbs and tides, the relation of my life to water is nothing like i would have imagined. it really is a fluid life.

i'm happy, i'm content, my insecurities run deep but the love i have for myself and the love of my family and the love of this incredible man, this incredible spirit overwhelms me. there's a big difference between needing someone in your life and wanting them in your life. i want these people. i want their love and their attention and their company. the fools have been cut away and what remains is brilliant and alive and worthy of my attention and love. how on earth did i get so lucky?

the deepest darkest corners of myself have been removed. flushed away only to be replaced by light. a long time ago switch told me that i had a light, a fire that was dangerous but that he found intriguing, irresistible. he compared it to understanding now why a moth is drawn to a flame even if it means certain danger. i see it now. i see that flame. it's the light that fills the space. no darkness in sight!

september 1st...and again it opens

and again it opens

mood: fearless

it's the moment when you begin to believe that nothing is possible. that's when the flood begins. in that very second when hope is replaced with fear. not today, she said. not today.

the bloom only closes when you choose to close it. otherwise it's natural state of grace is to remain open, free, fragrant and accepting of it's fate to one day fade. if i were a flower i would rather prefer if not demand that my foliage be on display for the world to see, enjoy, become enchanted with me, even if i knew it meant that someone might pick me from the vine and discard me. 

this photo was just a fun, what the fuck, nothing to lose image that was anything but powerful. and yet i was drawn to it and found it intriguing and moving. maybe it was just my playful creative mojo kicking in but i felt connected and had to disect it. play with it. open it up and see what i was missing with my naked eye. what it brought out in me was a profound understanding of how we relate in our lives to fear, madness, playful and mischievous urges. it's the moment. there's always one and it's up to you to figure out how to live it. will you remain tight in that bud any longer?

And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom. -Anais Nin

hmmmm....where does the time go?

i've been terrible at updating this blog lately so i have a bunch of back posts to move over here. like 20+ blog entries from june, july, whenever. hell, i don't even know but i'm gonna move them and post them today!!! take a look if you dare....then again, i have no fucking clue who even reads this shit, other than me. really don't care either. it's so cathartic to get it all out, not care anymore and love who i've become. this is fun!!!!

enjoy enjoy enjoy life. goes by way too fast.

iris

august 27th...the f-cycle

the f-cycle
Current mood:f-tastic 

 

you know, i have a real love hate relationship with several words that start with "f".

exsqueeze me but what the hell am i talking about now? a random and somewhat pointless little tidbit, even for me?

why yes, yes it is a bizarre topic for discussion. hopefully i will meander toward a deeper meaning here in a second but don't hold your breath. i am business buzzed and exhausted so it may just be a blog filled with f-bombs. let's see where this goes.

so much of my life is or has been caught up in what i call the "f-cycle".

words like fuck, fear, facade, fragile, fraud, family, foundation, fierce

i used to think of my life as a journey but i am rethinking the term. a journey has a clear destination, a clear objective and i don't think of myself as simply going from a to b. i think it's a process. the process is an unfolding. every layer reveals something else. it's a process of discovery. not all good discoveries either. just the other day i discovered how truly alone i still feel sometimes and how helpless i can become because of another persons actions. um yeah, i thought i was past that. wrong again. i have discovered my weakness's and they are nothing like i had envisioned. well fuck...

words like forbidden, fortunate, frantic, friend, flexible, fool, fodder, faith

at the beginning was my fear. i was so terrified of my fear that i feared what was laying under the fear. but when i peeled back that layer, another one was there. this time i made an enormous discovery that changed my life. what i discovered was a solid foundation made of perseverance, determination, family, friends and compassionate giving love. i never would have imagined my own strength if i hadn't decided to face what was gathering below.

words like fortitude, fight, false, full, fair, found, freedom, food, forge, forward

i am coming full circle but i remain aware of my faults, and i have many. for example, i struggle daily to find the balance between food and love. i remain aware that the reality of this transformation is not always pretty or neat and tidy. quite the contrary. i continue to transform, move, process it the best i can but there are days i lay down and cry. sometimes i can't stop. i weep because of the process, i weep because of the fear, i weep because i feel fortunate and am filled with gratitude. i weep for what i've uncovered but also for how much further i have to go. everyday is something new but it's not always good, it's not always bad, but it's always there.

words like final, fall, fail, fluid, finding, future

the finality of becoming an individual again and not ever wanting to go back to being someone's property is liberating. the fluidity of my life. everything and everyone in my life has become fluid. we are all just moving around one another, propelling each other further toward whatever is to come. i have had to become this fluid, mobile, flexible woman that i never felt i could relate to but here i am. a creature of movement. a creature of freedom. i have found a woman unfolding. a woman with a future. a woman who is fearful but ready to forge a new way of living. i am a woman with a future that appears to be full.

the f words continue to line my path and i will gladly take each of them and use them. i am ready to fall. forward.

august 3rd...places everyone - and action!

places everyone.....and, action
Current mood:guns blazing

..............

Does anyone remember the videos that surfaced a few years ago showing an ex-wife, or soon to be ex, going ape shit about her husband? I believe she was doing a virtual “video” tour of their home and saying incredibly inappropriate things about him? Something along those lines but I know it became one of those viral things out there. Personally I remember seeing clips here and there and thinking that this woman had gone off the deep end.

See where this is leading folks? If you don’t then I suggest you just stop reading now because I’m about to dive on into that pool with her and go for a little dip.

I HAVE FUCKING HAD IT!!!! This man, no wait, he’s not even a man. He’s a fucking coward. A piece of shit who has wasted my time, hurt his own children with his irrational behavior, thrown away money from both of our families and disrupted the lives of everyone whom he claims to care for just to prove a point. The point being that I’m not worth shit! I have fucking had it with his demeaning tone, his constant attack on my character and judgment not only as a mother but as a person. I have had it with the condescending behavior, with the lack of communication and the utter disrespect and lack of trust. He doesn’t have a shred of common decency. Back the fuck up you son of a bitch!!!

I say these things right now because I’m angry and frustrated and I’m fucking done. I need a place to vent the anger and the frustration and the hate so that I don’t carry it around with me today. No way am I going to let this mother fucker steal one more minute of my life on his complete lack of common decency. Yeah, I'm fucking pissed. The end of the rope has been reached and I am gladly letting go of it and saying “So long mother fucker. I am done with your sorry ass!” Seems harsh but I’m saying these things because I have seen them first hand. Mostly I’m saying these things because they are the honest to god truth about this deplorable excuse for a man. And yes my peeps, I am talking about none other than fucktard.

People always talk about “dead-beat dads” in this country. About fathers, or mothers for that matter, who don’t pay child support, that don’t take care of their own flesh and blood, who leave the other parent stranded with bills to pay, children to raise and yet they give nothing. Hell, there are men out there who go to jail before helping to support their own children. Now don’t get me wrong, these men (and women) are scum. But I will give you one worse.

Take a man who is such a narcissistic bastard that he will punish his own children, whom he claims to care for more than anything in the world, just to prove that their mother isn’t worth shit. He doesn’t want to support them financially yet he wants to have more time with them than he ever did when we all lived under one roof and on top of that he doesn’t want them to have a house where they feel safe and comfortable. He wants the house, he wants the children and yet the one person who brought those children into the world, who cares for them day in and day out, the one who supports them emotionally and spiritually, that person should be working minimum wage and suffering for her sins. Now who wants to have their cake and eat it too? He is willing to sacrifice two perfectly innocent children’s happiness and wellbeing just to make sure that I have to struggle, that I have to be punished. All of it is done so that he can be right. Mostly I believe he does it out of spite. He does it so that I will never forget that I am the one who is untrustworthy, unlovable and unacceptable.

I have news for him. None of that fucking bullshit he’s been feeding me all of these years is true. Yes, I cheated. Boo-fucking-hoo you piece of shit excuse of a husband. Not only am I trustworthy and loveable and accepted but I’m about to throw his ass to the fucking lions. That son of a bitch is about to get the fight of his life because I am ready to fight for my life and for the lives of my kids. For the first time in this entire process and I mean this sincerely, I hold him in no regard. He is worthless to me. He can go hungry. He can struggle. He can live in an uncomfortable apartment with nothing and I won’t feel the slightest remorse. It is gone. All feelings of regret or guilt or hurt are erased.

Tomorrow he will again bring to the table a proposed settlement that will be beneath me. I should preface this by saying that he tried to negotiate with me last week and after 5 hours and nearly $1600 in mediation fees and attorney's fees he was still an unreasonable prick. Yeah, I'm just a wee-bit angry about that waste of a fucking day! He will again come to me with a settlement that is inappropriate, insulting and downright vulgar. He will play the victim and he will claim to be helpless and alone. What he doesn’t realize is that I have no sympathy for a person who cares so little for others and thinks so highly of himself that he puts himself above the law and above what is right.

My value doesn’t come from a checkbook and I’m not in this for the monetary value. My bottom line is about the greater good of my children, of my family, of my future and the future of the kids. But I am sure as hell not going to settle for anything less than I deserve. And if he’s smart and comes to the table with what I have asked then I will take it. I will take it if, and only if, it is what I deserve but this is on my terms and I will not settle for anything less.

Mark my words on this one, I deserve it. I deserve every last penny, every last hour, every last possible demand that I have asked and he knows it. I will not compromise who I am or what I deserve for that piece of shit anymore.

Cut. Print. End of Tape.

august 1st...365

365
Current mood:  fabulous

for some reason i woke up this morning and thought about the date. mainly because it was staring me in the face on the fridge but also because i'm remembering back to a conversation i had a few days ago about how much things have changes in one year. it inspired me to go into the archives and i was surprised to find that 365 days ago, i made the decision to start this blog.

i am glad that i did and i'm proud of myself for not giving into the fear of the "what if's" and instead moved through the "am i really doing this" and finally into the "i did it". i think the best part of this journey is that i'm continuing to do it. things are beginning to settle, or at least i hope they are, and i am a better person. i have a more fulfilling life for me and my children. i am getting further and further away from what can only be described as a toxic relationship. i'm closer to my family, i have a clear picture of the friends on whom i can count and i have a life that i can call my own. i'm madly in love with a madman (who is currently looking like a mad scientists with his unruly facial hair). my creativity and passion is alive and appreciated by the people i choose to share it but more importantly by me. i appreciate this madness!!! the list of "pro's" could go on and on but the funny thing is despite the numerous "con's" i could list, none of them outweigh the good stuff. the good stuff is really, really fucking good and worth it. it's just worth it!!!!

life is good today. i will cherish it. i will savor it. and the best part is tomorrow i will wake up and do it all over again. this is my path to travel. mine. happy 365 to me and my randomerants!

from day 1, august, 2009

i know why. i know who. and i'm just trying to put one foot in front of the other and see where it takes me. i'm done being serious. i'm done thinking of what will happen. i don't want to think about it anymore, i just want to move through it. no matter how much it's going to hurt i'll move through it and feel it and submerge myself in it. should be an interesting journey.

august 1st...tag, you're it!

Tag...You're It!
Current mood:  strong

..............

Have you ever noticed how interconnected lives can become when you share so much of yourself with someone? It’s kind of like that bubble in the level. Being a Libra, I am acutely aware of my need for balance and maintaining equilibrium. Depending upon your belief in astrological stereotyping, this can either be a given truth or a pile of horse shit. I choose the former. In my case I have always felt a strong need for justice, balance and I have a natural ability to see things from several different angles. It’s probably why I find myself disappointed in unjust situations. Or perhaps I just have a conscience. Either way, I like things even and tempered. In general terms, the label of Libra is an accurate one for me.

I have noticed an interesting trend lately in my relationship with Switch. It’s not just with him but with everyone that I hold dear to me or with whom I feel deeply connected. Right now I see it more with him than with anyone else. I tend to get into a “funk” on a regular basis. Some people only go through it once every few months or maybe once a year but I am a temperamental creature…as if that’s any big news to anyone. You throw in my chemical makeup as that of someone with depression and anxiety, although very well treated, and there are days that are just plain shit. I feel it, it has to be felt and I move on from there. It’s just how I roll.

I recently got into one of my funks and had a difficult time coming out of the death spiral. The entire time I was down I noticed that the people closest to me, especially Switch, were seemingly without many difficulties. That’s not to say that they didn’t have any but the urgency wasn’t there. Even the people in my life who generally have a certain degree of difficulty to overcome were all sailing through life gently. Meanwhile I was entangled. That has shifted in the last couple of weeks and now I am the one who feels like taking on some of the burden.

Switch was sick a few weeks ago. Although I had more than enough on my plate, it was as if I went into hyper mode and had the energy and vigor of someone with no worries. I wanted to help. I wanted to carry the load and make him feel better. My daughter was struggling last week with some mood swings due to some recent changes. It killed me to see her so upset and unbalance but I just sucked it up and made it better.

I had a disappointing day this week but it didn’t hit me until the next day. By then my mother was over her disappointment and could be there to lend me a shoulder. We provided a sounding board for each other over the same subject on different days. I was also sick this past week with what I can only imagine would be Switch’s ailment from last week and I felt downright crappy.  Want to know something? He sent me more texts with “I love you” than normal. He was concerned for me and was essentially saying “let me take the burden.” 

I find it so interesting that the universe has a mid-line. It has a way of maintaining balance. I have always said that only one person can be down at a time, that’s just the way it works. I think I’m right. Can you imagine what a fucked up world we would have if we all had shitty days at the same time? Fuck! Talk about some messed up yin/yang action!

All I know is that there is a certain calm in knowing that there is someone on the other side who is so in tune with me. In my case there are several people in my life but I feel the most connected with Switch in this sense. He’s the black to my white so to speak or maybe more like a partner with which to play this see-saw like game of life. Whatever role I am playing at any given time, I’m just glad to be playing. Life is about the challenges and the joys of overcoming those challenges and hopefully learning a thing or two about yourself and the people you care for most in the process.

Amazing how we swing back and forth in this wonderful balance.  So go ahead and give me your troubles and I'll give you mine. Let’s just make sure we do it in shifts.