Mediation between myex and I was a spectacular failure. He was not going to budge one inch. We tried to more or less to appease him without giving away the farm, but he was stubbornly steadfast. I was supremely disappointed that this custody battle was going to rage on.
It's one thing to know or think you're the better choice to have primary custody of the child, it's another thing entirely to prove it to the court. Custody battles are more or less she said, he said. Bringing in friends and family to testify on your behalf is not really going to help your case, because OF COURSE they're going to support your side. It's calling in daycare, doctors, teachers, and so forth. Thing is, in my case, the daycare is most likely INCREDIBLY reluctant to say anything at all. I don't blame her, if she says something negative it'll damage the relationship. Hell, the other person might even try to get a new daycare.
So, we are bringing in a guardian ad litem. This person knows truly nothing about either one of us, just what answers we wrote on the form sent out, and what the witnesses for our side said about us. Let's observe at this from the outside looking in: you're going to make yourself out to be Ward/June Cleaver. You have to list what concerns you have about your ex without sounding like you're bad mouthing them. You have to list your weaknesses but make them sound as if they're minimal. It's a very fine line you're walking.
You are basically in a competition to see who's the better parent. Who's more involved, who has the better environment, who "cares" for the child more- you or him? Not to mention practically every single thing you do is under a microscope. What do you feed the child? Hows' your driving record? What are your finances like? How reliable is your vehicle? The GAL report is the word of God to the judge. Yes, you can try to disprove the things s/he said in the report, but nonetheless, the judge will probably not give it much credence. The GAL has seen and heard it all, done this a hundred times. They know what to look for, and the judge knows that. You haven't done this before, so just because you think what they said isn't "fair" for lack of a better term, doesn't mean much. Of course you think you're the better parent, so if the GAL disagrees, you're going to refute whatever s/he said that made them come to that conclusion. Legally speaking, this makes absolute sense. It's a very sound idea. Of course, when it involves you personally, that's a whole different ball game, isn't it?
Waiting is the hardest part. Did the GAL get your answers on time? What did they think? What did they think of my exes answers? When are they going to come to my house and do the interview? What are they thinking? What's going to end up in the report? When will I see the report? All of these things swirl around in my brain constantly. I have nothing to hide in my house, I know I provide a clean, safe, fun and loving environment. But will she see it that way? I won't know until I see the report, and I don't know how long that will be. Until then I agonize over what s/he said, and what they determined. I go to trial in the spring. Until then I wait and wait and wait to see what the GAL says, what's our strategy? What do you think his attorney is going to use as a strategy? Again: waiting.
So, I wait. And I wait. And then I wait some more.
05 November 2012
25 July 2012
Myths about women
1) We only have "emotional sex
Totally untrue. Yeah, we'd take sex with a man we have a mutually emotional connection with any day. But sometimes, a girls gotta get hers, namean bro? Truth. Believe me, I had PUH-LENTY of one night stands back in my heyday. I didn't want a relationship, I just needed to get laid. I haven't had one in YEARS, being a Mama and all, last thing I need is my daughter thinking she can act like a ho. How does one find these girls? Go to a bar at closing time, dipshit.
2)We dont' watch porn
The fuck we don't. Hubs not doing his husbandly duties? Boyfriend got sand in his vag? Yeah, that shit happens. And that's when the Internet is here to help. Sure, there's nothing like riding that Pound Town train, but it'll work. With exceedinly few exceptions, every single woman I know has watched porn AT LEAST ONCE. When do we watch porn? When your stupid ass is playing "one more round" of WoW or faking a headache. Smartphones and the bathroom. Nuff said.
3)We ALWAYS care how we look
Y'know, sometimes we just don't give a damn. We'll throw on those old jeans or yoga pants, throw the hair into a ponytail, and just go. We're too damn tired, out of fucks to give, in a pissy mood and the rest of the world can just fuck themselves. And if you're going to the WM, you'll fit right the hell in. Shit, where I'm at, as long as you've bathed in the last week and wearing a bra, you've already won. Real talk.
4)We're all money-grubbing whores
Yes and no. I'm not saying there aint some gold-digging bitches out there, because there are. That's why sugar daddy dating are so popular these days. HOWEVER, I cannot think of a single woman who wants some loser who can barely make rent. We want to know you've got your shit together and that includes your finances. Doesn't matter if you're making $25k or $250k a year. We don't wanna end up paying your bills and we want to know that if this thing turns domestic you'll be able to handle that shit. Kids are damn expensive, and if you're living off Ramen and over the age of 25, all bets are off. Sorry, bro.
5)You've got to be goddamn Ron Jeremy in the sack
Again, total bullshit. Maybe the chick likes vanilla sex. (Poor thing.) But truly, it's actually kind of in our favor. Because we can mold you into the guy who gives us what we want every time. You'll be the student, we'll be your teacher, and hey, there's the study sessions. One caveat: some guys are just fucking hopeless. (Pun intended.) One of my exes, for example, just straight up refused to learn. After round after round he just didn't fucking get it, I knew. This guy was doomed to a lifetime of mediocre (at best) sex and I bounced.
6) We're not as horny as men
Again, the fuck we're not. (See points 1 & 2.) Personally, I've been described as a total horndog. By a guy who was famous for the amount of tail he pulled, no less. I see a cute guy, I think about what he'd look like naked. (Did that in Mass once. Made for an interesting confession.) I'm rather happy being single, but when I go to bed and feel my 500 thread count sheets against my legs, I still think every. single. night. how much better it'd be if I had a naked, hot, sweaty man giving it to me like it was his J-O-B. Truth. If this myth was true, the sex toy industry wouldn't be as thriving as it is. We're just as horny as you are, so take freaking advantage of this.
Guys, I hope this clears some shit up. If it doesn't, well then, I don't know what to tell you. Sorry dudes.
Totally untrue. Yeah, we'd take sex with a man we have a mutually emotional connection with any day. But sometimes, a girls gotta get hers, namean bro? Truth. Believe me, I had PUH-LENTY of one night stands back in my heyday. I didn't want a relationship, I just needed to get laid. I haven't had one in YEARS, being a Mama and all, last thing I need is my daughter thinking she can act like a ho. How does one find these girls? Go to a bar at closing time, dipshit.
2)We dont' watch porn
The fuck we don't. Hubs not doing his husbandly duties? Boyfriend got sand in his vag? Yeah, that shit happens. And that's when the Internet is here to help. Sure, there's nothing like riding that Pound Town train, but it'll work. With exceedinly few exceptions, every single woman I know has watched porn AT LEAST ONCE. When do we watch porn? When your stupid ass is playing "one more round" of WoW or faking a headache. Smartphones and the bathroom. Nuff said.
3)We ALWAYS care how we look
Y'know, sometimes we just don't give a damn. We'll throw on those old jeans or yoga pants, throw the hair into a ponytail, and just go. We're too damn tired, out of fucks to give, in a pissy mood and the rest of the world can just fuck themselves. And if you're going to the WM, you'll fit right the hell in. Shit, where I'm at, as long as you've bathed in the last week and wearing a bra, you've already won. Real talk.
4)We're all money-grubbing whores
Yes and no. I'm not saying there aint some gold-digging bitches out there, because there are. That's why sugar daddy dating are so popular these days. HOWEVER, I cannot think of a single woman who wants some loser who can barely make rent. We want to know you've got your shit together and that includes your finances. Doesn't matter if you're making $25k or $250k a year. We don't wanna end up paying your bills and we want to know that if this thing turns domestic you'll be able to handle that shit. Kids are damn expensive, and if you're living off Ramen and over the age of 25, all bets are off. Sorry, bro.
5)You've got to be goddamn Ron Jeremy in the sack
Again, total bullshit. Maybe the chick likes vanilla sex. (Poor thing.) But truly, it's actually kind of in our favor. Because we can mold you into the guy who gives us what we want every time. You'll be the student, we'll be your teacher, and hey, there's the study sessions. One caveat: some guys are just fucking hopeless. (Pun intended.) One of my exes, for example, just straight up refused to learn. After round after round he just didn't fucking get it, I knew. This guy was doomed to a lifetime of mediocre (at best) sex and I bounced.
6) We're not as horny as men
Again, the fuck we're not. (See points 1 & 2.) Personally, I've been described as a total horndog. By a guy who was famous for the amount of tail he pulled, no less. I see a cute guy, I think about what he'd look like naked. (Did that in Mass once. Made for an interesting confession.) I'm rather happy being single, but when I go to bed and feel my 500 thread count sheets against my legs, I still think every. single. night. how much better it'd be if I had a naked, hot, sweaty man giving it to me like it was his J-O-B. Truth. If this myth was true, the sex toy industry wouldn't be as thriving as it is. We're just as horny as you are, so take freaking advantage of this.
Guys, I hope this clears some shit up. If it doesn't, well then, I don't know what to tell you. Sorry dudes.
22 July 2012
Defriending IRL
I have three best friends. First and foremost is Housewife, because she is All that is Woman. Secondly is the Wife, with whome I reconnected with on MySpace. Last but not least is Bumpkin, who I used to work with and allows me to let my inner redneck out.
Now, Wife and I live in the same city, and we went to high school together. We never hung out or even really cared for each other in high school, but with time comes maturity. Mostly.
Since February, I've spent a lot of time with Wife. She and I fish a lot, or just shoot the shit. Point is, from about May to July, we spent almost every single day together.
I couldn't take it anymore.
First was the money issue. (Don't all marriages have money problems?)Specifically, she never has any, and bemoans that fact constantly. As such, whenever we'd drive to go fishing, it was on my gas budget. That got irksome. I suggested better jobs or even second jobs to her, but she never made a move towards that. I got very tired of hearing it. I'm broke too, but I know what options I have to change that and whining about it changes nothing. So I do not. Her boyfriend doesn't even pay 1/2 the rent, and yet she always has money for going out. Right. Seems legit. Know what I do? Budget like a motherfucker and watch every damn dime that leaves my account. This is why I don't go out a lot. Babysitter issues aside, I can't really afford to. So I don't.
Secondly, Wife hates her body. I mean she hates her body. To hear her speak, she is a fat, ugly, stretch-marked whale. Now, I've got her by a good 40 pounds. But I think I'm gorgeous, so I wonder if she thinks I'm ugly too..? Anywhoodles, instead of working out and eating right, she sat on her ass and tried insanse diets. The Master Cleanse diet. The Caveman diet. Atkins. Some weird seafood diet. Now, that really pisses me off. For one, I've worked my ASS off to lose the weight and that includes working out and eating right. I've told her she can take walks with me, but she doesn't have the gas to get to me. I've been her personal cheerleader on how beautiful she is day in and day out for a long time, and when I lost it at her she tried to make me feel guilty about her body issues.
Lastly, it occured to me that the woman is very clingy. I am a pretty indenpendant person, being completely alone doesn't really bother me. I putter around my condo, go for walks, swim, and read. But Wife cannot be alone, she needs someone to need her. Someone to be around her, to keep her company and entertained. And if she's had too much to drink, she turns passive-aggressive and whiney about it. I will not give into that shit, and told her so. We fought HARD about that. She always wants to come over, or for me to come over. Let's go somewhere! Let's do something! You're paying! The concept that I'd rather A) really just spend time alone being with my daughter and enjoying her or B) just be alone period is forgein to her. I get that some people can't grasp that concept but they at least respect that concept. This explains why she stays in long-term unhappy relationships. That and the fact they didn't do anything "wrong" to her, so she "can't" break up with them. Woman, it happens every day, just do it, y'all aren't married. It's called not being right for each other, break up and moooooove on. Jeez.
So, what happened? In short, I defriended her.I started spending almost every single weekend back home. I ignored the comments that she'd "like to have her wife here for the weekend". Then I slowly started being busy with things. And if that didn't seem to work, I wouls say I was exhausted or I just wanted to be with my daughter. She's gotten the message, and she's pissed and hurt. Yes, I explained all of these things to her, and I RAH! RAH! RAH!'ed her to get her life back on track. Get a better job! Exercise! Eat right! Be single! Join a club! DO SOMETHING CHRIST ALMIGHTY! Instead I was presented with a list of excuses why she cannot or will not do any of those things. Fine. I'm done trying to help fix you. I'm done listening and emotionally and mentally jerking you off. I've got so much shit on my plate right now, I need three hands and a cart. I don't need more.
I miss her, and I still love her. But I'm also more at peace because I finally have peace and quiet.
Now, Wife and I live in the same city, and we went to high school together. We never hung out or even really cared for each other in high school, but with time comes maturity. Mostly.
Since February, I've spent a lot of time with Wife. She and I fish a lot, or just shoot the shit. Point is, from about May to July, we spent almost every single day together.
I couldn't take it anymore.
First was the money issue. (Don't all marriages have money problems?)Specifically, she never has any, and bemoans that fact constantly. As such, whenever we'd drive to go fishing, it was on my gas budget. That got irksome. I suggested better jobs or even second jobs to her, but she never made a move towards that. I got very tired of hearing it. I'm broke too, but I know what options I have to change that and whining about it changes nothing. So I do not. Her boyfriend doesn't even pay 1/2 the rent, and yet she always has money for going out. Right. Seems legit. Know what I do? Budget like a motherfucker and watch every damn dime that leaves my account. This is why I don't go out a lot. Babysitter issues aside, I can't really afford to. So I don't.
Secondly, Wife hates her body. I mean she hates her body. To hear her speak, she is a fat, ugly, stretch-marked whale. Now, I've got her by a good 40 pounds. But I think I'm gorgeous, so I wonder if she thinks I'm ugly too..? Anywhoodles, instead of working out and eating right, she sat on her ass and tried insanse diets. The Master Cleanse diet. The Caveman diet. Atkins. Some weird seafood diet. Now, that really pisses me off. For one, I've worked my ASS off to lose the weight and that includes working out and eating right. I've told her she can take walks with me, but she doesn't have the gas to get to me. I've been her personal cheerleader on how beautiful she is day in and day out for a long time, and when I lost it at her she tried to make me feel guilty about her body issues.
Lastly, it occured to me that the woman is very clingy. I am a pretty indenpendant person, being completely alone doesn't really bother me. I putter around my condo, go for walks, swim, and read. But Wife cannot be alone, she needs someone to need her. Someone to be around her, to keep her company and entertained. And if she's had too much to drink, she turns passive-aggressive and whiney about it. I will not give into that shit, and told her so. We fought HARD about that. She always wants to come over, or for me to come over. Let's go somewhere! Let's do something! You're paying! The concept that I'd rather A) really just spend time alone being with my daughter and enjoying her or B) just be alone period is forgein to her. I get that some people can't grasp that concept but they at least respect that concept. This explains why she stays in long-term unhappy relationships. That and the fact they didn't do anything "wrong" to her, so she "can't" break up with them. Woman, it happens every day, just do it, y'all aren't married. It's called not being right for each other, break up and moooooove on. Jeez.
So, what happened? In short, I defriended her.I started spending almost every single weekend back home. I ignored the comments that she'd "like to have her wife here for the weekend". Then I slowly started being busy with things. And if that didn't seem to work, I wouls say I was exhausted or I just wanted to be with my daughter. She's gotten the message, and she's pissed and hurt. Yes, I explained all of these things to her, and I RAH! RAH! RAH!'ed her to get her life back on track. Get a better job! Exercise! Eat right! Be single! Join a club! DO SOMETHING CHRIST ALMIGHTY! Instead I was presented with a list of excuses why she cannot or will not do any of those things. Fine. I'm done trying to help fix you. I'm done listening and emotionally and mentally jerking you off. I've got so much shit on my plate right now, I need three hands and a cart. I don't need more.
I miss her, and I still love her. But I'm also more at peace because I finally have peace and quiet.
08 July 2012
More texts from Real Life
All screenshots are from a single conversation. The Mad Housewife's texts appear on the right, and Mad Merlot Mama's are on the left.
- Posted from my iPhone. Cause I'm freakin' awesome.
- Posted from my iPhone. Cause I'm freakin' awesome.
Texts from Real Life
The Mad Housewife's texts appear on the right, and Mad Merlot Mama's are on the left.
- Posted from my iPhone. Cause I'm freakin' awesome.
- Posted from my iPhone. Cause I'm freakin' awesome.
13 June 2012
Texts from this week
Bonus, to prove it's not just us, here's some from friends and family. We really are just fucking awesome.
Oh, and ONE is from an old "friend" of mine who just had a baby. Who evidently, sees NOTHING wrong with asking me to fuck him. Can you guess which one it is?
Lastly, because Facebook is fucked up, I give you THIS gem...
Lastly, because Facebook is fucked up, I give you THIS gem...
10 May 2012
Realizations of a newly single Mom
This shit is easier than I thought it would be
Seriously, this is so much easier than living with my ex. For example, try to parent with someone who constantly undermines you. You tell your kid that taking a flying leap off the couch isn't acceptable behavior, he says to let her find out for herself. The threat of a concussion isn't even a spark in his mind. You tell your kid that throwing a tantrum automatically means she aint gettin' shit, and he gives her candy and tells her it's okay. Yeah. That was my life. Every single day. For nigh on four years. Now, since there is nobody else but me for authority, life seems easier. My child gets it now: no means no, there are consequences, and throwing a tantrum will not work. Guess who's better behaved now? This kid. On the other hand...
This shit is a lot harder than I thought it would be
She goes to her Dads house, where there are virtually no rules and accordingly: no consequences. My child has Sensory Processing Disorder which brings its own set of problems, but one thing that helps is consistency, consistency, consistency. The same schedule, the same routine, the same expectations, the same rules. Since the judge has temporarily ordered that I have her for four days and he has her for three days, you can imagine the fun I've had trying to bring her back to normal. I spend most of my parenting time trying to get her back on track, and holy fuckballs. It's draining. Look, I love my daughter but goddamn. The first 24 hours she comes back are chock-full of tantrums and by hour 2 I'm wondering if it's considered child abuse to dose her with Nyquil just to get one goddamn minute of peace. Part of me says that she's trying to adjust back to our routine and that the SPD is doing this. The other part of me wants to lock myself in my bedroom with noise-cancelling headphones. Talking to Father of the Year about laying some mutual rules, expectations and routines is as useful as tits on a boar hog.
Being single is kinda awesome.
I didn't know this while I was with my ex, but evidently there were a bevy of men waiting for me to be single. Either because they just wanted to taste the taco or actually take me out on a date. Case in point: I briefly dated one guy who wanted to date me for almost a year, knew my situation, and quietly waited for his turn. He got his turn, I got several dinners out, a Juicy Couture handbag, $100 pink walking shoes, $300 worth of groceries, $300 worth of household items, and a massive pink sapphire ring. While we broke up, I'm just laying this on the line: if you get a chance to date a guy who makes close to $100k a year and wants to spend it on you...go right ahead. Presently, I have a date with a Jason Aldean clone I went to high school with, whom I have been texting for a week. And, since we're not an "item" yet, I feel zero guilt flirting with anyone who catches my eye. This whole being single thing is doing wonders for my self esteem. And, at the risk of sounding like a complete and utter whore, the very idea that I have several men in my contacts list that will happily come over to hit it and quit it is rather nice. Picture it: I'm home alone, Kidlette is with her Dad. A couple glasses of wine later, and I'm getting happy in my happy place. If I want to, I can call someone to come over and make my happy place even happier, and an hour later we're both ecstatic. Yeah. This is kinda awesome. (For the record, I haven't done that yet. And as much as I have fantasized about doing filthy, raunchy, kinky shit to Jason Aldean 2.0, I will not. Yet.)
My new independance is one helluva drug
My condo is decorated precisely the way I want it decorated. There is nobody else using the bathroom, missing the goddamn bowl entirely, and pissing on the floor. There is nobody else whining that he's tired of listening to my music. Yeah, okay, Tchaikovsky and Jason Aldean are so much fucking worse than Nickelback, Limp Bizkit or whatever else ear-raping shit you listen to. For the first time since 2004, I can more or less do whatever the hell I want, when I want, and how I want it. I was terrified that when I moved out, I would contemplate going back just to have another paycheck to count on. Turns out, I'm fiercely protective of my independance, and I would rather shampoo with Ajax dish soap and wipe my ass with newspaper than go back. It's tight, no doubt about that. But I'm on the drug called Independnce & Freedome, and I have no intentions of coming off of it. Knowing that I depend on no one but myself and and getting along juuuust fine is very empowering. My situation has forced me to find an inner Damascus Steel hitherto undiscovered. Had I not done this, I would've never known it was there. All of these things combined is dizzying, and I love it.
The other day I walked past a mirror and I was like damn bitch..You fine.
Since leaving Mr. I want to lose weight so I'm buying Doritos, I lost about twenty pounds. So yeah, there's that. Here's the thing, ladies, when you're in a soul-sucking, life-draining relationship you look like it. You look like hell because you're in Hell. You don't care how you look because fuck it. He doesn't, nobody else does, so why should you? You dress so crappy you makes nuns look sexy. But then you dump the chump. Your confidence starts to come back, and no matter how mirror-breaking fugly you are, confidence is aatractive. Personally, I've always been insanely vain about my hair because well..Shit is glorious. I've loved playing with makeup since I was three. But for 2/3's of my relationship with my ex, I rarely did either. He never noticed so I just gave the fuck up. But even if nobody notices my hair, my makeup, or my ass, I do. I dress better because I feel better. I know I look good and I feel good. My confidence is back, bitches. Confidence makes me feel incredibly sexy, and I project that to the world around me. If you see a pleasantly curvy woman with magnificent dark chocolate hair swinging her ass like she's on a cat walk while discussing cereals with a dirty blonde four year old...Chances are you're looking at me.
I love this, and I love me.
Seriously, this is so much easier than living with my ex. For example, try to parent with someone who constantly undermines you. You tell your kid that taking a flying leap off the couch isn't acceptable behavior, he says to let her find out for herself. The threat of a concussion isn't even a spark in his mind. You tell your kid that throwing a tantrum automatically means she aint gettin' shit, and he gives her candy and tells her it's okay. Yeah. That was my life. Every single day. For nigh on four years. Now, since there is nobody else but me for authority, life seems easier. My child gets it now: no means no, there are consequences, and throwing a tantrum will not work. Guess who's better behaved now? This kid. On the other hand...
This shit is a lot harder than I thought it would be
She goes to her Dads house, where there are virtually no rules and accordingly: no consequences. My child has Sensory Processing Disorder which brings its own set of problems, but one thing that helps is consistency, consistency, consistency. The same schedule, the same routine, the same expectations, the same rules. Since the judge has temporarily ordered that I have her for four days and he has her for three days, you can imagine the fun I've had trying to bring her back to normal. I spend most of my parenting time trying to get her back on track, and holy fuckballs. It's draining. Look, I love my daughter but goddamn. The first 24 hours she comes back are chock-full of tantrums and by hour 2 I'm wondering if it's considered child abuse to dose her with Nyquil just to get one goddamn minute of peace. Part of me says that she's trying to adjust back to our routine and that the SPD is doing this. The other part of me wants to lock myself in my bedroom with noise-cancelling headphones. Talking to Father of the Year about laying some mutual rules, expectations and routines is as useful as tits on a boar hog.
Being single is kinda awesome.
I didn't know this while I was with my ex, but evidently there were a bevy of men waiting for me to be single. Either because they just wanted to taste the taco or actually take me out on a date. Case in point: I briefly dated one guy who wanted to date me for almost a year, knew my situation, and quietly waited for his turn. He got his turn, I got several dinners out, a Juicy Couture handbag, $100 pink walking shoes, $300 worth of groceries, $300 worth of household items, and a massive pink sapphire ring. While we broke up, I'm just laying this on the line: if you get a chance to date a guy who makes close to $100k a year and wants to spend it on you...go right ahead. Presently, I have a date with a Jason Aldean clone I went to high school with, whom I have been texting for a week. And, since we're not an "item" yet, I feel zero guilt flirting with anyone who catches my eye. This whole being single thing is doing wonders for my self esteem. And, at the risk of sounding like a complete and utter whore, the very idea that I have several men in my contacts list that will happily come over to hit it and quit it is rather nice. Picture it: I'm home alone, Kidlette is with her Dad. A couple glasses of wine later, and I'm getting happy in my happy place. If I want to, I can call someone to come over and make my happy place even happier, and an hour later we're both ecstatic. Yeah. This is kinda awesome. (For the record, I haven't done that yet. And as much as I have fantasized about doing filthy, raunchy, kinky shit to Jason Aldean 2.0, I will not. Yet.)
My new independance is one helluva drug
My condo is decorated precisely the way I want it decorated. There is nobody else using the bathroom, missing the goddamn bowl entirely, and pissing on the floor. There is nobody else whining that he's tired of listening to my music. Yeah, okay, Tchaikovsky and Jason Aldean are so much fucking worse than Nickelback, Limp Bizkit or whatever else ear-raping shit you listen to. For the first time since 2004, I can more or less do whatever the hell I want, when I want, and how I want it. I was terrified that when I moved out, I would contemplate going back just to have another paycheck to count on. Turns out, I'm fiercely protective of my independance, and I would rather shampoo with Ajax dish soap and wipe my ass with newspaper than go back. It's tight, no doubt about that. But I'm on the drug called Independnce & Freedome, and I have no intentions of coming off of it. Knowing that I depend on no one but myself and and getting along juuuust fine is very empowering. My situation has forced me to find an inner Damascus Steel hitherto undiscovered. Had I not done this, I would've never known it was there. All of these things combined is dizzying, and I love it.
The other day I walked past a mirror and I was like damn bitch..You fine.
Since leaving Mr. I want to lose weight so I'm buying Doritos, I lost about twenty pounds. So yeah, there's that. Here's the thing, ladies, when you're in a soul-sucking, life-draining relationship you look like it. You look like hell because you're in Hell. You don't care how you look because fuck it. He doesn't, nobody else does, so why should you? You dress so crappy you makes nuns look sexy. But then you dump the chump. Your confidence starts to come back, and no matter how mirror-breaking fugly you are, confidence is aatractive. Personally, I've always been insanely vain about my hair because well..Shit is glorious. I've loved playing with makeup since I was three. But for 2/3's of my relationship with my ex, I rarely did either. He never noticed so I just gave the fuck up. But even if nobody notices my hair, my makeup, or my ass, I do. I dress better because I feel better. I know I look good and I feel good. My confidence is back, bitches. Confidence makes me feel incredibly sexy, and I project that to the world around me. If you see a pleasantly curvy woman with magnificent dark chocolate hair swinging her ass like she's on a cat walk while discussing cereals with a dirty blonde four year old...Chances are you're looking at me.
I love this, and I love me.
13 March 2012
Well aint that some shit
Well, it's been a while since we graced the Internets with our presence. At least for me...Well..shit went down. What happened? Simply put: I left Stupid. I gathered up six die-hard friends, grabbed my shit, grabbed Kidlette, and high-tailed it the fuck out of there. Served him papers the next day, and now I await with baited breath his response, which has yet to be forthcoming. In the meantime, I do everything I can just to keep my proverbial shit together.
On the one hand, this is easier than I thought it would be. I suppose when you have no other option but to cowgirl up and deal with it, you just do it. I've found inner reserves of strength I didn't know existed. When all I want to do is sink to my nose in a bubble bath because it's been one of those those days, I can't. You just...deal. Because you have no other option.
But, on the flip side, holy shit this is harder than it looks. The mornings are the worst. She isn't a morning person, and well, that makes two of us. I have to be at work a full hour earlier than Stupid, so she's up earlier as well. Putting her to bed earlier doesn't do a rat asshole worth of good, since she doesn't actually sleep sleep until roughly 2100 hours. Financially, this shit sucks balls. My budget is tighter than a nuns cooch. Any unexpected expense could (and already has) put me into a tailspin. Stupid has to be constantly fought with to pay his half of the daycare, and until this court shit is settled, I am not going to see one red cent worth of child support. Apparently, in his galaxy, he's going to get full custody (over my goddamn dead fucking body), and I will pay him child support. Either way, he has made it abundantly clear he isn't paying a dime until the court tells him to. Not unrelatedly, guess who seems to have made it his mission to drag this shit out as long as fucking possible already? Yeah.
However, I have to say holy fuck this is awesome. The sweet, delicious freedom is worth every migraine, every tantrum, every worry about how I'm going to turn a dime into a dollar. Not living with a controlling asshat has made me into a happier, better person. Papa commented that he hadn't seen me this happy in over a decade. Well, guys, I haven't been this happy since I don't know when. Yes, my life has new layers of stress, but also innumerable layers of peace.
So, here's me raising my virtual wine glass to all the absolutely, astoundingly amazing people who supported me, helped me, and continue to do so. Here's to freedom, independance, strength, grit, determination, and all around badassery.
On the one hand, this is easier than I thought it would be. I suppose when you have no other option but to cowgirl up and deal with it, you just do it. I've found inner reserves of strength I didn't know existed. When all I want to do is sink to my nose in a bubble bath because it's been one of those those days, I can't. You just...deal. Because you have no other option.
But, on the flip side, holy shit this is harder than it looks. The mornings are the worst. She isn't a morning person, and well, that makes two of us. I have to be at work a full hour earlier than Stupid, so she's up earlier as well. Putting her to bed earlier doesn't do a rat asshole worth of good, since she doesn't actually sleep sleep until roughly 2100 hours. Financially, this shit sucks balls. My budget is tighter than a nuns cooch. Any unexpected expense could (and already has) put me into a tailspin. Stupid has to be constantly fought with to pay his half of the daycare, and until this court shit is settled, I am not going to see one red cent worth of child support. Apparently, in his galaxy, he's going to get full custody (over my goddamn dead fucking body), and I will pay him child support. Either way, he has made it abundantly clear he isn't paying a dime until the court tells him to. Not unrelatedly, guess who seems to have made it his mission to drag this shit out as long as fucking possible already? Yeah.
However, I have to say holy fuck this is awesome. The sweet, delicious freedom is worth every migraine, every tantrum, every worry about how I'm going to turn a dime into a dollar. Not living with a controlling asshat has made me into a happier, better person. Papa commented that he hadn't seen me this happy in over a decade. Well, guys, I haven't been this happy since I don't know when. Yes, my life has new layers of stress, but also innumerable layers of peace.
So, here's me raising my virtual wine glass to all the absolutely, astoundingly amazing people who supported me, helped me, and continue to do so. Here's to freedom, independance, strength, grit, determination, and all around badassery.
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