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....