Don't Fuck With Me

And I float upon a shallow bay
Lift me up until the ground gives way
I'm a California castaway
I don't think you wanna fuck with me.

To say that today sucked would be like saying Nelson Mandela got a raw deal.  If you don't know who Nelson Mandela is.. well, I'm just too fucking tired to give you shit.

Started my truck this morning and almost had a heart attack.  Sounded like a herd of elephants getting their nuts caught in a vice.  Got on FB describing the noise and asked for ideas/help.  I got a referral to someone who could do whatever repairs needed. Turns out my catalytic converter got jacked.  I texted & emailed my husband  to let him know.  Why did I let him know since we are split up?  Because stupid is as stupid does.  Plus title is under his name and why the hell wouldn't I!!  I'm freaking a little imagining the upcoming conversation.  But, I tell myself, don't jump the gun and imagine the worst.  Not to worry; my imagination apparently isn't broad enough to imagine the worst.

Let's backtrack to Sunday afternoon.  I have plans to spend time with a friend.  I get a text from said husband that his back (bad injury left him mobile but technically disabled) is bad-bad-bad and may need to go into ER, which happens 2-3 times year so I immediately change plans and tell him I'm on my way and spend rest of afternoon in ER. 

Fast forward....I get a call back from my husband asking what the deal is.  I explain the costs and am prepared to talk through solutions since if the asshead (thief, not spouse) was a stupid criminal and butchered the theft than we could be looking at over $1k.  Response:  It'll come out of your rent so you'll just have to tell the apt manager you can't pay rent until the 10th.  Deal with it.  Goood Bye.  CLICK.  Considering Sunday, I admit to being floored by his callousness.

I collect myself and head back to the house to swap cars (I swapped in the morning when I went to pick up child for school).  I have my referral for a mechanic and know where I'm taking it and I can figure out $$ on the fly.  I get to the house and he has been calling around for estimates.  I tell him about the referral without mentioning who from (goes back to "there shall be no men in your life except those I approve and never without my direct involvement")  but I end up having to say who which then leads to how did he know so I said I posted the weird noise on FB and asked if anyone knew what the issue might be and got the referral.  

WELLLLL.  I was then told that this is not something I could deal with because I'm not equipped to deal with stuff like this; never have been and especially now when I'm obviously  all emotional and whatnot...  Where do you go with shit like that?? So we get into it.  I just want this to end and my truck fixed and don't care by who at this point. 

Back to Facebook.  We got into it, again, about what I post and the inappropriateness and the familiar, "People have talked to me about your posts".  Uhhh, BULLSHIT!  Familiar because he's used that line for the last 20 years anytime he doesn't approve of my behavior but doesn't have the balls to take ownership.  Anyway, so to top everything off, he asks me not to post personal stuff about our family on FB.  Yeah, I'll wait while you catch up with that one.....my truck is now personal family info.  Honestly, how am I supposed to react?  So it came down to my post "told" everyone that either he didn't even know about the situation or he was incapable of handling the situation.  REALLY??  I'm thinking people's reaction would be more in line with, that sucks, here's a mechanic I know that can help....uh, kinda like what happened.  

Ultimately, it turns out his assheadedness (yes, that is a real word) is because he was mad that I didn't stay with him after the hospital.  He said he would've stayed with me and he was really hurt.  

I unfriended him.

Puberty 2.0

Yes, it would appear that myself and many of my friends have wandered back into the land of the lost also known as PUBERTY!  One would think that since we experienced the titillating experience in our teens that we are forever beyond that awkward stage.  YOU WOULD BE WRONG!  


Zits, bloating, oily skin and intense hornyness  apparently has come back full circle.  Thankfully, we are more secure in ourselves to not want to kill ourselves over acne, we take bloating in stride, oily skin is more youthful skin ladies and hornyness....well, that would be the upside.


I seem to be in perpetual angst now that I no longer have a sexual outlet.  Fantastic timing...get super horny right about the same time I decide to leave my husband.  But I have discovered that my taste in men has completely changed.  Okay, not really.  I just now know that what I REALLY LIKE does not need to be dangerous as long as I don't pick a fuckin' loser.  That's right, I like walking on the edge and I don't like my men so prim and proper.  


To be fair, I have to admit that if it hadn't been for the traditional strait-laced man I married, I probably would have ended up in jail or at least on probation.  Noooo, I'm not a closet murderer, thief or drug dealer.  I just had some little, bitty, itty, teensy weensy issues about personal space coupled with a very short fuse.  Oh, and a complete lack of fear.   And a big mouth.  Yeah, you can kinda see where this might lead me to stand on the wrong side of jail bars.  


But it's all good now.  I actually passed a HUGE personal hurdle by going to a club this past weekend.  I LOVE to dance, I HATE to dance in genres other than weddings where I pretty much know everyone.  I have been thrown in the pokey a couple times and hauled out in bear hugs by bouncers plenty of times from clubs for throwing elbows and punches and beer bottles and beer mugs (my personal weapon of choice).  So can you blame me for being  little freaked about going to a club?   At this point in my life, I don't need my son finding out that his mom was arrested for beating the shit out of someone or other.  A fabulous friend told me to take deep breaths and just enjoy.  So I did.  I relaxed, let loose and just worked hard to ignore the personal space transgressions.  It was pretty cool.  I also had another fabulous friend who totally had my back and came in and pulled me out when I was surrounded by too many bodies.  


One thing that has not changed is that if I ain't feeling the juice, I most definitely am not horny.  After everything, I seem to be a one man woman.  I just ain't good ho material! Oh, and the one man is not my husband...sorry babe!  See, I knew my marriage was done when for the first time in 20 years I had the hots for someone else.  Yeah, you're thinking I've been attracted or fantasized or... NOPE!  None of that for just under 20 years.  Now, I did have wet dreams that did not always include my husband but when the humpty-hump happened, I was not thinking or imagining anyone other than my husband.  So when sex included the face of someone else, I freaked the fuck out and had a reality check.  


Now, while my libido has increased exponentially, and my libido has always been quite expansive, I have been celibate since leaving home.   Very Very VERY sad, believe me.  But I am glad that I didn't walk away from my marriage simply to fuck around.  But if I could just have a dry hump of the leg....  

If Your Head Wasn't In The Way

I admit to feeling lonely and awkward and missing the comfort of things known and tedious busyness and blah blah blah but then I come face to face with why I live in an apartment instead of my own house. 


I swear, it's like a double-edged sword. Live with the spouse you don't want to be with and constantly be reminded of why you'd rather chew your own leg off or live on  your own so you don't actually walk around with a peg leg and feel like What the Fuck but then interact with said spouse and proceed to start chewing on your leg.  Seriously, there's not enough Valium in the world.


Tonight was a Carb-Load dinner for league champs the next 2 days.  Is it a big deal?  Nope, not so much.  I make plans to have drinks with a friend and fellow mom beforehand like anyone who may live a normal life would do should they have the time.  No harm, no foul.  Don't rush me, I see where you're tracking and I will get there!!  Plans are made (we won't discuss the fact that said friend stood me up...haha, it's okay GF, you had legit reason)  ... then spousal canker sore asks if we can go all together as a family.  Totally normal question.  I reply that I have already made plans to meet another mom for a drink beforehand.  "Who is the mom, out of curiosity?"   I reply with the name and his response is,  "Is it just meeting up or are you setting up [for the dinner] cuz I will help."  Like you've volunteered to help the last 15.75 years which has been....um, never!!  NOW you want to help?  Give me fucking break.  I reply, nope... just hanging out.  Wait for this...."Well, I think for school functions we should arrive as a family." 


This is particularly rich because spouse has never been bothered to attend school functions big or small EVER!!!  In almost 16 years of our son's life, he has attended birth, baptism, kindergarten graduation, dad & son donut breakfast (I swear he went for the donuts but I know that's just the bitch in me),1st year of soccer games, 8th grade graduation.  Everything else he has been traveling (total pass, he worked his ass off those couple of years), too busy, too tired, too pissed, too high (legal Rx), too drunk or too much of a prick.  For 15 years I made excuses until our son finally said, "Why do you keep making excuses?  If it's important enough to him he does whatever it takes to make it happen even if he spends the next couple days throwing up.  It's just never for me."  How's that for a reality check?


I admit to feeling a twinge of guilt because I'm trying to make this whole life spasm as easy for him as possible.  SUE ME!!!  Seriously don't.  I pay child support and 2x week counselling for spouse to help him through this ordeal...I can't afford anything else.  I will probably chew your damn leg off.  Back on topic.  I choose not to reply to his last comment because, honestly, what I have to say will not help his ego or my cause to proceed as angst-free as possible.  GUESS WHAT???  I get  a call later that he will drop son off and have his food to go because he hasn't slept and doesn't feel well.  What actually happens is he drops our son off and comes into the bar to tell me that he is not even staying a little bit, he's leaving and if I bring him food nice but not something he's counting on. I'm actually happy not to have to sit around looking at his brooding face that is looking for a slight that I may inadvertently dish out.


Then I come to MY apartment which is now my home and read a message asking how much money he can expect from me this week because he paid his counselor $100 and needs me to cover that.  


How much is your freedom worth?  

Macrame Is NOT Art

4 weeks since I moved out of the house.  Weird mixed feelings.  It's nice having my own space and anything and everything I do is really based on what I need done.  Obviously I have a child so some things are totally NOT about me.  But let's not split hairs.  I like being alone and I'm super good at tuning people and noise out but I gotta say that the ongoing aloneness is strange.  I think 15 years of marriage and having a child has permanently disrupted my peacefulness at being completely alone.  I'm not really on board with that scenario.  I LOVE alone time, what the fuck, now I'm l-o-n-e-l-y??  Life really sucks small weenies at times like this.


As times goes on, I have had my share of doubts and Oh-My-Gawd-What-The-Hell-Was-I-Thinking moments.  Let's face it, walking away from a life of knowns to the unknown and what could potentially be gawd awful is creepy scary.  I miss my dogs, but not their hair, I miss seeing my son whenever I want, I miss my house, I miss the noise and the comfortable boredom that is part of family life.  I have great friends old and new that support me on this non-journey (more on that later) and one even remarked how what I was experiencing must feel pretty damn empowering.  The word empowering makes me think of macrame and that's just wrong.  Sorry hippy macrame lovers.  Actually, as the adrenaline rush of the audacity of my actions slowly wears off, I feel FREAKED OUT!!  Just sayin....


So back to my non-journey journey.  I do not like the word journey because I feel like a Journey album will start playing and that will just set me off and no one wants to see me twisted and FREAKED OUT.  I know, EVERYONE loves Journey.  Well, I don't.  I don't dislike them per se, I just ain't loving the feeling they evoke in me.  So no using the word journey to describe my non-journey.  Don't like the word path either.   So I'm just livin la vida loca without much of the loca.


And can I just say that apartment living is kinda fuckin loud!!  

Life is Funny

Isn't this a funny picture I found?  Even funnier that I took the photo using my own booze and a sign my soon-to-be-ex gave me tonight as a house warming gift.  

           LIFE IS FUNNY!  Or is that irony?

First post-breakup holiday under the belt.  Easter with devout Catholics ignoring the white elephant in the room called DIVORCE.  That isn't the least bit awkward!  I am grateful that my in-laws are truly my parents; I love them dearly and it pains me that they have to go through this too.

I'm torn today between my usual smart-ass attitude and bitterness.  Have not really experienced the bitterness yet but after 2 shots and 4 beers... not to mention dealing with squeaky wheels going off the rails...I'm fuckin' bitter!  Why do grown people act like gaping ass wipes?  Don't I deal with enough bullshit in my own fucked up personal life that I also have to deal with shit thrown by pussies?  REALLY?!?  Imagine my face twisted into a snarly look of disgust.  Cartoonized.  ala South Park.  Now that's funny.  Oooh, that would be the shots kickin' in me thinks.  Oh look, the smart-ass is back.  I thank God everyday that I have a short grudge factor.  I have an intense moment of angst then whooosh, it's gone.  Deep breath.  But, just for the record, tennis coaches suck small weenies!!    But that's a WHOLE different topic so you will just have to wonder if I've completely lost my mind.  Sorry.

Back on topic.  So I met with one of my child's teachers.  Yeah, imagine the joy I'm feeling.  It's been a crap school year for him.  And then I think,  Hey!  It's been a fuckin' crap school year since the 5th grade.  Kid has had to learn too soon too many lessons of life.  Child and I don't talk about it often; how many ways can you say the same thing afterall.  That's right, we don't like the excessive talky talkiness for the sake of talking.  If you know us, we L-O-V-E to talk but we don't like to talk about stupid shit.  How to explain....   Well DUH!!   I have left my husband of 15 years who has been my best friend for 19.  It is painful, it makes me cry just thinking about it.  But once I tell you that we are splitting up and I've moved out....there's really not a whole helluva lot else to say.  I can talk-talk-talk-talk about the shit that happens regarding the see-chee-a-shun but how many ways can you say  I TOLD MY HUSBAND TO TAKE A FLYING FUCK.  Duh!!  If that doesn't make sense then, well, kiss my ass!  So child and I talked blah blah blah that his attitude in class, oh my god I'm bored already!

Have not had sex in some time.  Just sayin.   Used to having a lot of sex.  A lot.  Of sex, that is.  Not so much anymore.  Is this what being a nun feels like?  Can you go crazy from lack of sex?  That would be a shame.  sad-sad-sad.  I would like to have sex.  A lot.  Of sex, that is.  I have someone I would like to have the sex with.  But since I am not married to that person...  did I mention I haven't had sex in a while?  Does lack of sex make you stupid? 

Better Seen and Not Heard

I went to family counseling with my husband (NOT photo to right) and it was emotional, naturally.  One of the many themes, threads, etc he stresses each session and conversation is that what I choose to experience day-to-day does not necessarily mean it cannot be done while married.  I beg to disagree (see photo to right).  


While douche-bag was most pleasant to look at, unfortunately he kept insisting on opening his mouth.  Obviously he never the learned the age-old lesson that it is better to be seen and not heard.  He is the poster child of why the adage was created.  Nice eye candy but Lord help me, make him stop talking!


So I woke up this morning and it was a beautiful, clear day.  It has been over a week since I've been skiing so I decided that a trip up the hill was in order.  20 minutes later I'm snow bound.  I decided to hit slopes that I rarely visit due to road conditions.  What a gorgeous day.  I gear up and slip into line and hear a silky voice ask my name.  Yaaaaa baby!  I may still be married but as long as I look but don't touch, I will not burn in hell (much).  We hit it off.  Then, as most people cannot seem to help themselves from doing, he keeps talking and talking and talking.  Are ya picking up a theme from reading my posts?  
                              STOP FUCKING TALKING ALL THE G'DAM TIME!  


But I am very good at tuning people out so pretty boy drones on and I nod politely because his ass moves in pretty little swooshy movements that I reallllllllly like.  mmmmmmm, that is the memory I will take away from the day.  Anyway.  Sadly, after 2 hours I am ready to stick my poles into my eardrums to make the agony stop.  By now, I've also decided to raise my standards and only date hobos.  Why?  People with money like to talk about their money and they are very high maintenance.   Perhaps if you also have lots of money it all works.  So, while the day was stupendous,  I was unable to make eye candy LEAVE so I finally had to experience an horrible muscle cramp and go home.  That's right, I had to leave a perfectly awesome slope on a perfectly awesome day because my walking, talking, dick-swinging douche-bag did not have an off button!  I need a tattoo on my forehead that says,
                     "talky people need not apply"


On a side-note....do you know what sexting is?  I THOUGHT I did.  Until someone said something and so I asked something and I was then shown actual examples of sexting and WHOA BIG DADDY!  My first post said I was sexting...I was sooooo NOT SEXTING!!  Have you seen this shit?  It is PORN!!  It is spell-fucking, thank you very much.  I was mildly flirting while sexting is Traci Lords ass fucking porn, okay!!   Damn, thank God I did not have a cell phone in high school!!!

Pull the Trigger

Going gun shopping this weekend and just did my toes tonight so I'm all set.  GUN?!  Yeah, I'm a closet gun-toting bitch.  So many things will be revealed oh-so-slow-ly.  

This week has been excruciating and has tested my patience, not to mention my self-control so I wouldn't end up on the 5 o'clock news for going FUCKING PSYCHO on my husband who refuses to shut-the-hell-up ALREADY!!  How can a human being spend 45 minutes talking about a 2 minute topic?  This is not kicking a dead horse; this was a full on let me look up what kind of horse I'm interested in then evaluate the pros & cons then I'm gonna talk the poor horse to DEATH then I'll spend time determining whether the horse is actually dead then I'll start kicking the horse then we can discuss the merits of whether I should have picked a different animal.  SHOOT ME!!  Just thinking about the number of phone calls, texts, emails and face-to-face talks I've had this week is enough to make me start shooting.  

Here's how one of the "discussions" went.  Grab a cocktail, I'm hitting the frig for a beer to talk myself off the ledge.  Okay, Blue Moon in hand (you thought I was joking??) and Teenage Wasteland is playing.  Here we go...

Insane Person:  The child told me on the way to school this morning that he would like to spend 10 days at each house instead of the 5-7.

Not Insane Person:  Hmmm.  Why do you think?

Insane Person:  blah blah blah bladdy blah blah blah (that never actually answers the fucking question, thank you very much) I don't think I can do that long whine whine whine whine (would you like some cheese to go with that irritating god-damn-mother-fuckin-cry-me-a-river-poor-me whine?)

Not Insane Person:  I agree that's kinda long for both of us right now.

Insane Person: We need to talk about this.  Do you want to meet for coffee or just come over to the house?

Not Insane Person: Umm, I'm thinking that when I come over on Friday, the 3 of us can talk so we can ask him about his reasons then you and I can make a decision.

Insane Person:  But we need to talk about this whole thing first before we talk to him.

Not Insane Person:  No, actually, we don't.  He has told us what he wants and you and I both agree that for now 10 days is just too long.  We will listen to him and let him know that we can eventually move to longer stays but right now is just too soon.

Insane Person:  So, you don't want to talk about this?

Not Insane Person: We ARE talking about it.  (are you fucking STUPID??????)

Insane Person:  Well, I think you're just putting your head in the sand.  This is pretty serious.  I knew this was going to happen.  This is the time when he will start getting into drugs, drinking, and I'm concerned that you are always so nonchalant.

Not Insane Person (who is GOING insane at this point):  Well, I understand your concerns.

And guess what?  I talked to the child.  **hang on, I'm grabbing another beer.  Landshark this time.  Different beers?  Why yes, I happen to have multiple flavors.  Of beer, wine and cocktails.  

So I talked to the child and explained that 10 days is just too long right now.  Like me, the child is NOT INSANE and simply said, "Ok. It would just be easier, more convenient but it's not a big deal."

Well, dumb ass fucking me decided to let crazy man know about the discussion, which took all of 20 seconds thank you very much!  And, you guessed it, I had another 20 minute phone call.  

I need more guns.  LOTS AND LOTS OF FUCKING GUNS.