Tag Archives: Lord Voldemort

Snakes, Snails, & Puppy Dog Tails

Most folks have heard at some point that little boys are made of snakes, snails and puppy dog tails.

Little girls are made of sugar and spice, and everything nice.  And of course as we age that spice takes over and seasons the everything nice into stuff that often is NOT so nice, strutting around in high heels.  But is another post for another time.

We have a wonderful little Yorkie in the palace, Penny.  She is my daughter’s first dog, who cannot live in harmony with the daughter’s boyfriend’s canine.  This is really not a shocker, as little chubby Penny has a bit of a Princess complex, only it is the negative side of said complex.  Honestly she is a bit of a crotchety old dog, at 10 years and a few months, but only when it comes to other dogs being in ‘her’ pack.  One of the cats, on the other hand, the palace feline princess, is a bully and bosses the dog around.   We have no ‘puppy dog tails’, as it is more of a stump, because they clip Yorkie’s ears and tails.  But for all intents and purposes, in addition to boys who are made up of such lovely stuff, we have the puppy dog tail part covered.

When it comes to snails, yes we have those. Outside.  Where they belong.  Well they are slugs, which my very unscientific brain believes are homeless snails, as in minus a shell.  I nearly stepped on a large, slimy slug one morning last week when I took Penny out to send her first, 5am pee-mail.  I saw it moving on the sidewalk and bent down to see what it was, as without my glasses on in the morning I have to get kind of up close and personal with the world around me to bring it into focus.  So, snails and puppy dog tails.  And a bunch of cat fur that is shed now and then too, throughout the palace.  Thankfully there is this dandy device known as a vacuum cleaner for that issue.

Which brings us to snakes.  There are few things in this world that will cause me to be completely paralyzed with fear, and snakes would be one of those things.  I HATE SNAKES!  I do not care if they don’t bite, aren’t poisonous, and eat rodents.  I HATE SNAKES!!  My son, the cop, who is afraid of tiny tan house spiders, at least will run screaming and naked from the shower if he encounters his 8 legged fear.  When I come across a snake I freeze, cannot move, and if I found one in the shower with me I’d just drop dead of a heart attack, end of story.

At 5am today, Penny was doing her potty dance and adding a slight whimper to it from her crate in our room.  This nixed the idea of “just 10 more minutes” with a touch of the snooze alarm.  Whimpers generally mean “if you don’t get out of that bed, woman, there will be nasty, runny puppy poop to clean up and it will be no one’s fault but your own!”  This I know from the not too distant past (see Over Night Notes To Self for more information).  I got up, got the dog and headed downstairs.  I picked up her leash and she wouldn’t come to me, seemed she was thirsty.  So much for urgency.  When she finally had emptied the water bowl, as the cats looked on with great concern (they always worry no one will refill it), I hooked the leash to her collar and we walked out of the front door.  I did not have my glasses on, so what I first thought I was seeing laying on the sidewalk, was a large stick, or the neighbor’s ivy type plant had grown a rather long off-shoot across the concrete.  I got to the edge of the porch and started to step down, getting up close and personal and HOLY CRAP THAT IS A FREAKING SNAKE!!!!!!  I backed up very fast, to the door.  Penny, is looking at me oddly and trying to go forward.

I am now standing, frozen on the porch, trying to decide what to do.  I could go through the garage and let the dog go out that way, but what if when I move it goes down by the garage door and enters?  ARGH!!!!!!  The dog is starting to pull on the leash, she has business at the other end of the sidewalk and I’m holding up progress.  I’m worried that as she passes over it, the snake is going to whip around and bit the dog.  And of course from the size of the snake  in my imagination, it is going to swallow my poor little Yorkie whole.  But she is pulling harder, so I give her some leash to work with as she heads right toward the monster on the walkway.  I decide that perhaps I am sacrificing the dog, but then it could be fore the greater good.  That of course being that the snake would eat the pup then move on somewhere to hang out for a few weeks while it digests Penny.  I’m sure my daughter could understand that, right?

Penny stopped and sniffed the tail of the snake then stepped over it and kept going.  I gave her all the leash that I could, hoping she would just go in the mulch and come back to the porch, like she does when it is pouring down rain. But NO, she is tugging at it and looking at me like “it’s now or I am dropping this mess on your sidewalk”.  It dawns on me then that the snake had not moved.  So, I bravely, on jello legs lean out and have another look and realize it is just a long skin.  But what if the snake is not done shedding it yet? EEEEEK now what?  I decided I had to get the dog to the other end of the sidewalk so she could send her pee-mail and poo in the grass.  I did a graceful, ballerina style leap over the snake skin, (okay it no doubt looked like a rhino, sporting pink/blue/purple plaid & a pink, Hello Kitty shirt, trying to jump an obstacle)  and then ran down the sidewalk sure it was in hot pursuit.  Puppy did her business and we headed back up the path to the door.  With goosebumps the size of grapes, I timed my next impressive jump so that I was going over the dog and the snake skin, in case the snake was there, the dog would be the closer target.  Sorry, I know, but again, the whole greater good thing, after all the dog cannot cook or do laundry.  I had to save myself!

Before I left for the office I found a long broom stick and went outside to lift the skin off the walkway.  It was at this time that I happened to see just how long (3 ft) this thing was, and the face was looking up at me from the ornamental grasses by the downspout.  It was empty but it sure looked the part, even with my glasses on.

Now, as I end this, let me mention that before I went to bed last night I was reading Harry Potter And The Goblet Of Fire, the part at the end of the TriWizard Tournament.  You know, where he bumps into my ex-husband Lord Voldemort in the grave yard?  And old you-know-who has that big old snake with him, which made my skin crawl thinking about it before I went to sleep.  Before you think this is a figment of my imagination inspired by too much Valerian root in my before bedtime tea, I took a picture of it after I brought the dog inside.

1167953_515091978576331_2034920070_n

Farting In The Shower

farting-kittenBefore anyone panics, this is NOT a post about flatulence, at least not the bodily function.  It is more just an out pouring of what is rolling around in my brain of late.  Which, by the way, can be every bit as frightening to open up for a peek inside as what one will encounter after someone has farted in the shower.  Some days, equally offensive, no doubt about it.

And heck, we all know with a title like “Farting In The Shower”, more than a few of you high tailed it on over here to read this post because you simply couldn’t resist….sickos!

Did you have one of those weekends that just took it’s time going by?  I love those!  Time did NOT fly when I was having a great time and I’m so thankful for that.  I spent all day Saturday (close to 13 hours) with my friend who shall be known as the Teddy Bear.  Make no mistake, within that adorable, teddy bear exterior there is a grizzly bear.  But unless absolutely necessary, he is a gentle giant.  We met some years ago on a dating site and a friendship began.  We’ve been trying to get together but schedules were being most uncooperative until this past weekend.  But that is another post, it was too nice a time to fall in under a blog post title containing the word “Fart”.

Could someone please tell me what the fascination is with the show, “Duck Dynasty”???  I admit that I only watched about 10 minutes of one episode before scrambling for the remote.  I would have rather watched grass grow than another minute of that insanity.  Maybe I should have stayed with it?  I cannot imagine what draws anyone to it, so please, enlighten me.

*SIGH* It is only 7:13pm, too early to be sipping wine so I’ll have to stick to a cup of coffee for now.

Honey-Boo-Boos-Mother-has-a-BoyfriendSometime in the past year or so, I saw this lovely photo moving around Facebook.  At first I found it rather amusing, especially coming out of a divorce and several heart breaks since the end of the 22 year marriage to Lord Voldemort.  I had slammed on the breaks in dating and relationship land, vowing to remain single for a full year to rediscover me.  I am growing used to the idea that no one keeps me and that would tend to lead any normal person to believe that perhaps they are somehow flawed or unlovable.  Or both.  Though really, Honey Boo Boo’s mama has a boyfriend…someone is keeping her!  Granted, she is likely quite well off with all this reality show life they live so the man would be a fool to toss her aside.  Then again, he has to look at her, and be with that woman as she belches and farts on a regular basis and does disgusting things like chews food and then hangs her mouth open to give a view of it all.  I may have my flaws, but holy mother of all things real, I’m not that bad!

As if that isn’t enough, today on the commute home, I’m listening to the radio and it is the entertainment news update.  The headlines: Honey Boo Boo’s mama and her boyfriend, Sugar Bear, who also happens to be Boo Boo’s baby daddy, GOT MARRIED!   In a wedding complete with a camo wedding gown.  Someone please tell me that he married her for the money, that she is his sugar mama.

923163_10200263105398770_1205204837_nI’m seriously a bit concerned here.  Just this weekend I was told I am: sexy, cute as a button, fun, intelligent.  And yet I remain single while Honey Boo Boo’s mother is M-A-R-R-I-E-D.  Has the world gone off it’s rails entirely????

I can deal with the whole turning 50 in less than 2 weeks, even embracing it to be honest.

I am comfy with the fact that I now view life through bifocal glasses, and that if I get contacts again, for distance, I will need to purchase readers or wear bifocal contacts.

I was even able to find the humor in receiving a temporary AARP card and application in the mail.

What I am struggling with is the idea that me, the woman who loved her husband with every cell of my being, with every part of my heart, that adored the man, still got excited at his touch and butterflies in my stomach when he came home, who is certainly far from ugly or disgusting, yet is adored by men then tossed aside once they have my heart (which by the way is never easily given),  is single and seemingly destined to be a crazy cat lady!  I did not sign up for this, could someone kindly show me where the customer service desk is, I’d like a refund!

935647_512630128785121_734655800_nOR maybe, just maybe, the problem is not me?

Maybe I am really the amazing woman I was told that I am by all those men who have since walked away, and it is simply that they cannot handle (read: control) me because I am anything but easy?  And therefore, in reality, they were not at all worth it?

Hmmm….I think NOW it is time for that glass of wine.

Dear Future Husband ~ It’s My Heart, Thank You Very Much

Dear Future Mr. Marvi Marti,

Gosh I love that…Mr. Marvi Marti.  You see, it is likely that is what you will be known by, as I am just that much of an over powering presence.  I tend to out shine, out last, out speak, out love, out argue etc, any man in my life.  I am quite a force to be reckoned with, no doubt.

Speaking of “out love any man”, however,  yes we DO need to talk about that part at some point and now is as good a time as any, as to date the position is still open for the future Mister.  This is because as of now, if someone likes it, they haven’t put a ring on it. You know the song.

Monday marked what would have been my 24th wedding anniversary to Lord Voldemort.  Yes, by the way, it is said in fun so just get the hell over it, oh readers who love to run tell him what I write about him. He doesn’t give a rats ass and I say it in complete fun.  Sorry, dear ex-hubster, if your “friends” feel the need to report what I write, perhaps it is time to trade them in for ones who respect your ‘claimed’ wishes to not tell you.  And SO sorry, future one of mine, I hijack my own posts once in a while, get used to it.  I’m told it is A.D.D.

My dear, future spouse, you must accept something very important.  I was married for 2 weeks shy of 22 years.  In that time I went from loving my spouse, being in love with him, to loving him with every fiber of my being, every cell in me.  It didn’t come about over night though.  That kind of love grows through many trials and difficulties, and many more happy good times.  Nearly losing him 3 times to death grew that love which is why I stayed through the shit storm life seemed to always throw our way.  Watching him be a daddy, comforting our children, those sights burned that love into my heart.  Supporting him and watching him achieve dreams, it carved him deeper  into my heart.  Yes, to this day I love that man very much, that will simply not change.  True, real love doesn’t die.  And that is why the divorce was so painful and still is for me, knowing that the love that I had for him was one sided.  He loved me, but not like I loved him.  Not with the kind of love that comes from every part of someone, that keeps promises made, the love that never gives up and stays when someone is most unlovable (rest assured he was very unlovable at times and is not the saintly  husband some think – and you can bet I can play a tie ball game in that regard).  To know that you gave someone your best years,  love from the core of your being, only to have them toss it aside like a waded up receipt, that kind of pain you just don’t bounce back from in 2 years time.  When I looked up and saw the date, 8/13, I cried all over again.  I miss the man that held me when I cried over losses, who snored softly beside me when he slept, who made me laugh at stupid, silly things, was the object of my fantasies, and made me excited just by the sound of him pulling in the driveway.  The man who could raise my desire simply by touching me.

That part of my heart is now very much closed.   I don’t know that I can ever love on that level  again.  No, it is not impossible, but it is highly unlikely.  Because when you lose the person you loved that much….it is a pain beyond words.  It hurt to even breathe.  No, it doesn’t hurt quite that badly now, but I’m still pretty raw and vulnerable on those depths.  I’m not sure we can love like that more than once in a lifetime.  Because self preservation closes those depths in the heart and seals them over.  To hurt the deeply more than once…well frankly the thought is unbearable to me.

I can love you, be your best friend, companion, cheer leader.  I can and will be faithful, there will be only you if we make a commitment.  But the deepest part of my heart is not within anyone’s reach. Even the one I loved that much could never hope  to pry that place open again.  That is why, should hell freeze over and he ever wanted to patch things up, the answer would be a concrete NO WAY IN HELL.  For one, I could never trust him again.  And of course, that love I had is locked up so tightly away now, my heart could never freely give it again to someone who threw it away.

I will use everything left in me to love, cherish and adore the man I marry, should I ever go that route again.  If that is not enough, then my dear man, I am not the one for you.  Keep looking for what you seek and I hope you are able to find it.  If you want someone who keeps those promises made in the wedding vows, “through richer or poorer, good times and bad, sickness and in health….” yada yada yada, then  please, pursue that road with me. I honor my vows and take them very seriously.

It’s MY heart, and even if I thought I could love on the level again, I don’t know that I would, and that is my right.

Have I Mentioned I HATE Camping?

You may recall that last October I went camping…for the first time in a few decades.  I grew up traveling this country by way of camp grounds.  I loved it, love the memories, but truly HATE to camp.  The Count convinced me to camp this past October, and it actually wasn’t bad!  However, I had no desire really to do it again, it would simply have been a family tradition of his so I would have gone along.  Thankfully he ditched me.

*Squirrel moment* (that means an ADD driven side thought) – BEST thing the ex-husband, Mr. Wonderful, and the Count did for me was toss me aside.  I’d have not known what it was like to be with The Biker otherwise.  I have landed such an awesome man now. One who has shown me what weak individuals the Count and all others before him.  He encourages me to be ME and loves my very strong personality.

This past weekend I once again found myself on the back of the bike, only this time in the cold and RAIN.  Yes, the Marvelous princess rode in the rain this time, well over 100 miles.  These guys are 1%ers, hardcore bikers, they ride in the rain.  And then…we camped. On the property of another chapter’s club house we pitched tents and campers, and I found out what hypothermia feels like.  It was flipping C-O-L-D despite the blankets etc. and I was sleeping alone until about 5am.  My legs were cramped from cold, especially when I suddenly had to pee.  I nearly gave up trying to pull my boots on to go outside.  When I came back it was no better.

The best part? I HAD A FREAKING BLAST!  Rain and cold, so what? I spent a good deal of time that night hanging in the club house with the other women, and I might have had a few shots.  Actually, okay, I DID, it was anti-freeze you could say, against the coming cold sleeping in a tent.  I got a tad out of control at one point, but my honey didn’t handle it the way old Lord Voldemort would have.  He pulled me aside, and quietly, lovingly, told me that I needed to dial it down a bit, it wasn’t acceptable in the current location.  I was mortified to think I had done anything that would reflect badly on him, darn near cried in fact.  But he was all gentleness and love, reassuring me I was fine, and that any other location I could be crazy like I had been.  Just not here and not now.  The near tears were about more than feeling I disappointed him (which he says not at all) it was also the gentleness of his voice and touch when talking to me.  I am not at all used to that.  He is not a small man, but a very gentle giant, and that much tenderness shown to me took me apart inside.  If you piss him off then heaven help you, but he isn’t easily angered by me at all. In fact he tends to laugh and find my fits entertaining.  Unlike the ex-hubby, I can flip off my Biker and he smiles.  He doesn’t find it insulting or disrespectful because he knows I’m being funny, he thinks I’m cute as hell when I do it, often replying to it with “who loves ya baby?”.

If it calls me ‘Beautiful’ once, he says it a few dozen times a day!

I am soaking it all up like a sponge as one very starved for true love and REAL affection.

Hopefully, we keep this camping  thing to a minimum.

I hate camping.

The Dating Diaries ~ Love And The Bull In A China Shop

Maybe some women aren’t meant to be tamed.  Maybe they’re supposed to run free until they find someone-just as wild- to run with. ~Sex & the City

In my on going search to find that one, special man, who finds me to be that one, special woman, I’m doing a lot of self examination.  The past 18 months have been a series of lessons in which I have had to face some things about myself and make some decisions about my life.

As I have mentioned in a previous post, I’m a bit of a free spirit.  Okay a lot of one.   And like any wild creature, I cannot be tamed.  You can clip my wings, cage me and all you will have is a wild bird that will stop singing and will throw myself against my cage bars when frustrated, resulting in explosive exchanges between me and my significant other.  Peace and harmony isn’t possible when your spirit is trapped and contained (or worse yet, crushed) when what it needs is to fly free.

I tried very hard for 23 years, 22 of those while married to Lord Voldemort, to live with my wings clipped, existing within a cage that I willingly entered.  It didn’t work so well.  While I have a submissive nature, I’m still a wild creature that needs my freedom to be ME.  After a year  in a bible study, The Excellent Wife, and many prayers that seem endless, to have that quiet and gentle spirit, we still butted heads, constantly sometimes.  Over the past year and a half I realized that I DO have a quiet and gentle spirit.  Unless provoked, then this Taurian will snort, stomp and charge at the source of my agitation with the intent of goring it to pieces with my horns. I become like a bull in a china shop, the end results are never pretty.  I cannot entirely fault my ex, or take the blame myself, it is pretty much a 50/50 split.  I adored the man, loved him completely and very much wanted to make him happy.  But his ability to balance the position of leading me just wasn’t there.  Not with someone of as strong a nature as mine at least.  I stuck it out and would still be there, because when I commit to someone, it isn’t me that will throw in the towel, I just keep on trying to get it right.  Great man, great dad, horribly bad pairing with me.

In order to even begin to coexist with me, my significant other has to be a very strong personality.  A natural-born leader.  One that understands the balance between leading and dominance.  True leaders are able to rule their kingdoms with a firm but gentle hand.  It is because they are so well-balanced, fair and honorable that those under their leadership follow readily.  They do not rule by fear and lording their position over others.  They do not resort to cruelty to gain submission to their authority.  Because they are those of such great character that they lead with peace and harmony.  I cannot and won’t be subject to a tyrant.  My man has to have that balance.  Granted, it won’t be perfect all of the time, but the majority of the time.  After all we are all human and have our bad days.

If she’s amazing, she won’t be easy to deal with. If she’s easy to deal with, she won’t be amazing. – Love Quote Jones

Most men that I’ve dated or gotten close too have told me I am a wonderful person, amazing, kind, etc.  While I am certainly not perfect, I do think I am pretty awesome.  But with that comes a very head strong, stubborn, and sometimes difficult woman.  I’m…complex, multi-faceted…okay complicated.  Think layers, like an onion, to borrow from Shrek.  It takes someone special to peel those layers back carefully to learn all my secrets, dreams and fears.  It takes a man who is committed and willing to stick to the task.  Those are so few and far between there are days I really wonder if I will ever find the one for me.

I’ve loved 3 men, really loved, who I could and would love completely.  That I’d give everything in me to make them happy.  And I will never completely get over them, they have part of my heart that I cannot get back.   One divorced me, one belongs to someone else, and one will forever be a special friend and no more.  The last being the strongest personality of the 3, the strongest personality I’ve ever known, and the one I was most drawn too.  Anyone of them could wrap my heart and devotion back around their little finger in a minute.   The interesting thing is that somewhere deep in my soul, I knew them the minute I saw them.  There was instant chemistry, a complete draw.  I did not even know Lord Voldemort’s name, the first time I laid eyes on him I just knew I’d be married to him one day.  Similar things with the other two men, not that I had a premonition of a commitment, but something inside of me was drawn out and reached toward something inside of them.  Chemistry.  Something was there that I did not want to live my life without them being a part of it.

I believe when I find the right man, it will be like that again.  I will just know immediately, deep down,  this is the guy I want to be with, want to make happy, want to share laughter and good moments, the tears and difficult times. Only this time it  will be one that wants to keep me, one that wants to share their hopes,  dreams, fears and life with me.  He’ll understand that I need to be FREE, to be me,  my quirky, amazing, wild spirited self.  I will be faithful to him, love only him, and live to please him, fully and completely.  That one who doesn’t want to live without me being at his side, a part of his life.

The Dating Diaries ~ What Is The Protocol?

Okay this bears asking because, well damn it this is the kind of stuff my life is full of…weird, odd, WTF kind of things.

So, you find a break in your afternoon and decide it is a good time to go check and see if you have any new matches on any of your online dating sites.  After all, you want to meet someone and you haven’t had time to check it most of the day.

Grabbing a fresh cup of coffee, you sit down and log in and sure, you have some matches, emails, winks and flirts.  After going through all those you decide to run a search and see what potentials exist in your area that maybe you haven’t yet seen.  Putting in the criteria you hit enter and a bunch of thumbnail photos with profiles attached come up.  And low and behold, there he is…

the one you thought was prince charming

the guy who had a smile that turned you on from across the room

the one you swore you’d go to the ends of the earth for

the man that rocked your world

the father of your children

YOUR EX HUSBAND!!!

So, what exactly is acceptable protocol at this point?  Of course you don’t wish to date him,  I mean for crying out loud he is an EX for a reason!!!!

X marks the spot.

X is the sign for POISON.

But, assuming you have a terribly warped sense of humor…and you know that I DO….

Is it acceptable to send a *wink* ?????

Just for shits & giggles?

I hope so…cause I DID!

Yes I really did, and hopefully old Lord Voldemort has finally grown a sense of humor.

Wanna bet he HASN’T and that it gets his boxers in a knot?

The Dating Diaries ~ A Prelude

Recently when I mentioned that I was joining the online dating community, the president of the Marvi Marti fan club, Joe, commented that he for one was looking forward to the posts about this adventure.  I hadn’t really thought about blogging it until then, but decided that what the heck, why not.  I have no intention of being mean, just going to write about my journey in searching for, not the guy I can live with, as that is settling, but rather the guy I cannot imagine life without.  It is a tough standard of achievement, but the bar has been set.

Dating not only allows us to learn about others, but we learn a lot about ourselves in the process.  Some things that are new, or that we really weren’t aware of about ourselves, other things we learn just confirm what we knew and sometimes forget.

There is a  lot I share about myself within my writings, I am a pretty open book for the most part.   My inner child, that soft and vulnerable side of me, remains a secret to nearly everyone.  One person I dated got a very good look inside my heart and soul, meeting the real Marti, no masks and completely bare.  He didn’t criticize or judge, he approached her slowly and carefully, studying and learning who I really am.  He and I would have been the perfect couple, as he allowed me to see the bare and broken, outstanding and wonderful soul inside him, the real him.  It is a pretty awesome thing when two souls and hearts can be wide open to each other.  But it is not to be, Fate is just cruel.  We instead are the very best of friends,  talking through our trials and triumphs and helping each other stay balanced.  Exactly how a couple  should function! Grrrrr…..

One other person began to see ever so slightly through cracks I had foolishly allowed to form in my shell.  See, when I fall in love I get careless and the armor cracks some, exposing partial views of that vulnerable part of me.  I don’t love easily, and I really regret now how fast I came to trust him and allowed my heart to get involved.  He is only the 3rd  man I truly felt I have ever really loved.  Funny to me is how surprised he seemed by what he saw, guess I do keep myself very well guarded.   That person was the man I refer to as Superhero. 

I am a very strong woman,  in personality, will, determination and focus.  I come from a long line of such women.  As I wrote once about myself,  the women in my family are not survivors, that is passive.  We are fighters. My brother referred to me as the family Pit Bull in the past, with good reason.  You might knock me down, even knock me out, but I will pull myself back up, brush off, and come out fighting.  Push me and  I will push back.  Hit me and I hit back harder.  Push my buttons, go ahead, I will go off on you.  I am very passionate as a person, the waters run deep and the current is strong, do not be deceived by the calm appearance of the surface or the tsunami that I am will wash you away.  This isn’t just in negative ways, it is all areas of my life and who I am.  When I am happy I am really happy.  Same can be said for excited,  loving, affectionate, etc.  I’ve learned to temper the exterior but the undertow can catch folks by surprise.  This is why any man in my life has to be made of steel.  He has to be a very strong personality himself or I will roll right over the top of him.

The ideal man can reign me in with a few GENTLY spoken words or a glance.  Poor Lord Voldemort (the ex hubby), never did have the knack for that.  He was a bit of a hurricane himself and while every bit my equal in strength of personality, he tended to lack flexibility with the power.

See, I am every bit the submissive as I am strong.  My nature is to yield to my man’s authority.  Easy now, my dear feminist sisters, sit back down, deep breath in, exhale slowly and allow me to continue.  I am no doormat, not by a long shot.  But I personally believe the man is the head of the household by natural order of things.  In a relationship that goes serious, I will lean that way, he will have the control.   *DISCLAIMER: Until he abuses said position*  It takes a lot of courage and inner strength to give up the controls, and let someone else steer the ship.  Submission is not for the faint of heart or the weak,  or they quickly become victims.  And authority to lead a relationship and household should never be given to a man that is weak either, it goes to their heads.  It takes a real man to handle the position, one that clearly understands that his position is about doing what is in the best interest of the couple (or family) before  himself.  He must be very other oriented and not selfish.  That is precisely why I keep finding myself with fire fighters or cops, I think.  Those jobs are, as a rule, done by men that are strong in will and very other oriented, which is what it takes to put your life on the line for strangers.  The trouble with a lot of men that are natural leaders, or dominant types,  is they never learn how to balance the position of power against their own desires.  And as stated, if I give up that control, and the position is abused, I will come out fighting like a wild animal uncaged.  I will protect myself, more so now than ever…push and I push back.  Good leaders are followed because of they are indeed good, not because they lord their position over others.

I  believe that because I found Mr. Wonderful, there ARE other men of his caliber out there.  Few and far between but they exist, he restored my faith. I will find the man I am looking for, and along the way I  will share my experiences.

So…that is a bit of a prelude to the dating diaries.  Stage set, let the journey begin.

Don’t Play Your Tuba At Someone’s Violin Solo

 

“Life is like playing a violin solo in public and learning the instrument as one goes on.…” ~ Samuel Butler


I wonder if we thought about that daily, how differently we might behave?  If we were playing a violin solo, in public view, while learning to play it as we went along, most of us would be diligent to practice, and try very hard to put on a good performance.  But in the game of  life we don’t always strive to be our best, we often forget who is watching us as we perform.

When my marriage came to an end, it shocked me.  I was devastated and really took it very hard.  A marriage ending is much a like a death, and there are stages that you go through just like when losing a loved one.  In many ways I think it is harder when it is a divorce, as you have to go on and from the background you are forced to watch the other person move  on without you.  If they wanted out they are off and living their new life, often before you even know the marriage is over, so their present is often your own future.  They are going on, you are still picking up the pieces of your heart trying to figure out how to glue them all back together again and just learn to breathe.

As I moved through the grief stages I thought I did a fair job of handling things considering  no one  handed me the sheet music to play with the announcement or when we filed the paper work.  I was expected to play an unfamiliar symphony with no conductor.  In many faiths you cannot get married without going to classes.  I think classes in how to get divorced would be a great requirement in order to even file the papers to get things started.  Anyway I thought I had done a fair job of handling things.  That is until the other evening when I made a comment to my daughter about how ugly my brother’s divorce has gotten and how vindictive and mean I’ve learned his ex-wife-to-be has become.  My daughter, wise beyond her 20yrs, looked at me and said “you aren’t one to talk”.  That brought me up short.  I never saw anything I did as being  close to the ugliness I see coming from my sister-in-law.  But the more I thought about it the more I could see that my kids were impacted by my solo show, regardless of how well I thought I had played.

I could have fought hard and forced the ex to sell the house, and dragged things  through court, but while I made a lot of threats in hurt and anger, I didn’t do that.  I did send a good number of mean spirited texts and emails to my ex, often threatening to get a lawyer and fight for all I could get, but I didn’t mean them.  I never did get a lawyer, never went after anything,  I just acted out in emotional turmoil.  But what I didn’t take into account was how much my kids would see and know, or how they’d be affected, as I was  playing that violin.  There were things I said in front of them, and I’m certain there were things their dad shared that he would have been better not too.  It really caused  some issues and hurt to my daughter that I was being less than kind.  Referring to her daddy as “he who shall not be named”, “Lord Voldemort” and assorted other not so nice  nick names really did not do much good, they caused her to withdraw from me to the less  hostile environment at her daddy’s.  My son is more removed in that until last week he didn’t live at home any longer so he was able to stay fairly neutral.  He didn’t over hear either his dad or me talking to others or to one another so he wasn’t impacted like his sister.  At times I made no attempt whatsoever to play the music, I was too busy bashing the ex virtually over the head with my violin, it wasn’t a very nice performance.

A very wise man that has been through a number of divorces himself, made the comment to me  one day that divorces  usually turn into drama fests and fights because of those outside of the marriage.  The friends and relatives on both sides feed the fires with comments and opinions that would be better left unsaid.  They tend to get one side of  the story but not both, form an opinion and then pick up their tuba in an effort to enhance the production, influencing their side to go for it all, etc., embellishing the facts or even telling out and out lies, trying to make one side look bad.  In the end,  it serves no good purpose but to make a bigger mess of an on stage musical that never  should have opened the curtains.  And  in the end, the outcome is not usually changed at all by the fighting and attacks, the  courts have a pretty standard method for how things get divided up and doled out.  The only parties that hurt are those hearts  caught up in the middle, usually the kids.  Even in my late 20′s, as my own parents divorce was taking place, I heard remarks made  by friends and family members that had taken my dad’s side.  I’ve never forgotten those things, and while it is forgiven, I have no desire to be around those  that judged and pushed the drama rather than just staying neutral.

As you play your violin solo of life, keep in mind that others are hearing and watching your performance,  and often we are unaware of those in the audience.  You usually only get one shot at each piece of music you have to play, make sure that you give it your all in such a way that the critics can give you rave reviews.  Oh,  and don’t try to play your tuba during someone else’s violin solo, trust me you won’t be doing anything to enhance their performance.

 


The Year Of Drastic Change -2010 In Review

As this year comes to a close I’ve been reflecting on all the things that have changed in the landscape of my life over this past 12 months. In hind sight I can see that it was all a blessing but at the time much of it was happening it seemed like anything but for my good. I’ve also been reflecting on things that I want to change in the coming year, more like goals rather than resolutions. Resolutions seem to never be kept but realistic goals often do.

JanuaryAnd So It Ends: My year began with an ending, the ending of my nearly 22 year marriage and 23 year relationship with my husband.  I was still in shock when I made my only post for January, from the announcement he made in the middle of the month that he wanted out and that it was all my fault.  Seems he could not deal with my anger issues that I really never accepted had existed up until that point.  I don’t for a minute believe that excuse, but I did seek medical help and was diagnosed with a serotonin imbalance that is easily kept in check with medication.  It was the beginning of this blog page, as my other one about being a Fire Wife was now obsolete.

FebruaryThe Drama Unit Is Formed, My First Major Step of Independence and The Dream House all chronicled some of the first stages in my spreading my wings to fly from the castle where I had lived with my Prince Charming who turned out to be a major fraud, in my opinion.

March – The shock was wearing off and reality setting in as I felt Homeless within my own house, and not yet part of the household of the Divas.

April – This month saw some realization and a turning point mentally and emotionally for me in my Ah Ha Moment and also seeing myself as aggressive rather than a passive victim, Don’t Call Me A Survivor regarding my circumstances.  It was a month of growth inwardly and anticipation of our big move into the new house.

May – The Divas Uncorked life in our new home on the first of the month, and I became a Reformed Cat Hater as I was given a kitten as a heart band-aid. Nurturing and loving her  little orphaned self did wonders for me.

June – We saw the end of a local icon, as Touch Down Jesus burned When Something Wicked This Way Came, our first major stormy night at the Diva Den, and I started a weekly post Wine & Cheese Wednesday where I ‘whine’ a bit each week about pet peeves and such.  It will return in the new year, I have been taking a break during December from my regular posts.

July – Summer brought about a new attitude in me, and I finally reached the point where I got angry and wrote my reply to my Soon To Be Ex Though Not Soon Enough when he asked why I was so angry at him. I realized then his hold over me had broken. I also had my 100th Blog Post and shared a bit more detail about my wonderful, awesome, perfectly imperfect self.

August -The Ink Was Dry and The Chapter Closed on my marriage with the final hearing and granting of our divorce. Later that day Lord Voldemort, as my now former husband is known in the Diva Den, blocked me from being able to text or call him and the house phone had been disconnected. I also came to realize that the Someone who has made my life worth living for was no one other than myself, another major step toward healing! The very end of the month, the final weekend, Mr. Wonderful/TSASA (Twisted Steel And Sex Appeal) walked back into my life and so began my learning to eat my words about never loving again.

September - I made some decisions about my life in determining only to allow those Who Are Willing To Ride The Bus with me when my limo is broken down to get close to me from now on. I also had one last major confrontation with the ex, at which point I realized, I DIRECT MY LIFE NOW and I really don’t give a flying frog’s butt what he thinks.

October – As Autumn had set in it became Time For Some Pruning in my life, and a follow up Landscaping Of My Life, as while I had already removed the sinful, dark parts of my life I needed to finish off the final traces of that way of life as I began moving closer to my return to a right path in life.

November – I faced head on The Monster Within me and accepted the harsh reality that I cannot drink alcohol, especially on my medication which intensified the issues, and not cause serious damage to the relationships around me. I have not had a drink since Thanksgiving, don’t crave or miss it, and in fact over all feel much better.

December – And this month has ushered in many changes for me in going ‘home’ where All Is Right In My World, how I’d plan out my Last Meal if given the chance, enjoying my ongoing relationship with Mr. Wonderful, and now facing the unknown ahead as my mother’s cancer has returned. I’ve been embraced by my church family, have a mentor of sorts in my wonderful friend, Jane, who keeps me accountable and prays for me and my feet are back on the firm foundation of my Savior.

My Goals For The Coming Year

I have set a few goals that I hope are realistic for this coming year.

*Beginning 1/1/11 I will make every effort to avoid mentioning my ex-husband in my blogs, and if it is necessary will try to make it as positive and brief as possible.  I must thank him for setting me free, as I’ve gotten to know me all over again, found someone very special that thinks I am pretty incredible even with all of my flaws, and I found out that there is a better life outside of the palace.  This  will thrill the diaper off Lord Voldemort as he actually calls my mommy to tell on me when I post something he doesn’t like!  Comical isn’t it?  He needs to grow up and grow a pair very badly and try talking to me (not cussing a blue streak but COMMUNICATING like an adult).  I’m 47yo, I’ll post what I want, when I want, you lost the right to tell me what to do on 1/15/10 when you asked for a divorce.  ::raises my glass:: here is to hoping karma continues to chomp your butt as it has since I moved out, and that you grow up some day, little boy. *CHEERS*  (okay NOW I feel better and will pray it doesn’t keep chomping)

*I have a goal to focus on the health of my soul, feeding it by being at church for both services on Sundays, the mid-week prayer meeting, and be in the Word daily for feeding my soul and memorizing passages.  I revamped my other blog page into a positive place for my Spiritual Journey, taking something dark and sinful and making it honoring to God.

*I fully intend to allow this relationship with Mr. Wonderful to bloom and grow at its own pace, doing it RIGHT this time, and keeping it Christ centered.  We may not always do it right, but my goal is to strive for that.

*And to take better care of myself, start walking at least every other day, and drink 64 ounces of water a day.

We’re Putting The Tree Up

The trees went up last night..as in they are out of the boxes, up and lit.  After digging through a variety of containers it became obvious we were lacking some things.  Seems last year when they packed up the Christmas stuff, the other Divas tossed a lot of things.  So we had it on hold for tonight to actually decorate the tree.

My daughter got Lord Voldemort to help her with the tree there.  All she had to do was start pulling stuff out and trying to move that casket size box up the stairs herself  (the damn thing weighs about as much as a  body loaded end of life container) and her daddy was helping her. Her, the boyfriend and her dad decorated over there. That cracks me up, that girl has that man wrapped so tightly around her finger.  He would say otherwise but grumpy old Walter said over and over he would NOT have another dog in that house ever.  Enter Okeloni, the 2 year old Akita my daughter recently adopted from a shelter.  Yes, she has her daddy wrapped alright.  I was glad Scrooge decided to help her out and they were able to begin a new  tradition even if it is without me.  I was always the one to get it out, put it up with my kids, Ebeneezer rarely did much of that. Talk about a little black rain cloud hanging over the holidays.

I admit to being a bit apprehensive about this Christmas.  All of the ornaments that hold sentimental value to me are over hanging on the tree at the ex-husband’s house.  I have nothing of mine here.  This is my favorite holiday and time of the year, and I’ve always loved decorating the tree.  So when my daughter called to tell me she was bringing my  nativity that she and her brother had bought me years go I was thrilled.  I also requested a particular ornament that holds very strong sentimental value to me and she brought it too.  I love that kid.

Today the Divas went shopping to find ornaments for our tree.  I picked out one  just for me, my  first initial in silver, with gem stones.  And then I found another, a silver fire place that says “Our First Christmas In Our New Home”.  I  bought that one too.  Now I feel much better, like I have something in the mix here.

And now, we are going to begin to decorate the trees, complete with shatter proof ornaments as suggested by my daughter.  The cats already have taken to climbing the damn trees. One received a squirt bottle enema when I shot her off a branch.  She in turn stalked the tree thinking the tree attacked her.  That would be Ditzy!

Saturday 6 – 10/23/10

BWS tips button

 

Hosted by Boobies and Zombie.

So for Saturday Six…tell us how you get down in the bedroom. (All about your sleep style sickos! Get your mind out of the gutter!)

  • How many hours per night/day do you sleep?
  • Night owl or morning person?
  • What do you wear to bed?
  • Sleep crutches? (Sleep with a radio, fan, t.v. on? Have to have something particular in order to doze?)
  • Do you remember your dreams when you wake up?
  • Any strange stories about sleepwalking/talking or anything of that nature?

How many hours per night/day do you sleep?

For starters…not enough!  On week nights 5-6 hours is a good night, which could be improved upon if I would stick my sorry butt in bed earlier but I don’t.  On weekends that can be 8-12 hours depending on the mood of my cat in the morning.  If Pixel Kitten wants me up and moving then I’ll be lucky to score the 8 hours.  Her powers of persuasion are rather impressive so she usually wins.

Night owl or morning person?

NOT a night owl.  I guess I am more of a morning person.  Assuming I can start the morning out slowly, with coffee, waking up the brain at my own pace, then we are good to go and off to a happy start.  No coffee = one mean, unpleasant person, don’t risk it.

What do you wear to bed?

I own a wide variety of cute jammies in tank top and shorts styles, or capri and long pants.  Because I live with all these chicks I am related too, and 2 of them are younger, I respect them and don’t run around naked as I’d prefer.  Some nights I sleep that way, but since I know sooner or later I will be up to use the bathroom (old age and drinking way to much water before bed) I usually crawl in with the shirt to the jammies on and slip the pants on as needed.  Not to mention, knowing my luck the damn  house would catch fire and I’d need to be rescued through my bedroom window in the front of the house, and it would be Lord Voldemort the ex-hubster that had to carry my naked ass over his shoulder down the ladder.  I’m thinking NOT A CHANCE, I’ll be carted out with something on if you don’t mind. Especially since I could see him dropping me onto the lawn from half way down the ladder and I’d end up landing so that my fat, bare ass was sticking straight up.

Sleep crutches? (Sleep with a radio, fan, t.v. on? Have to have something particular in order to doze?)

It is necessary for the bed to be made before I will get in it.  Weird I know.  And I have to have my teddy bear.  Yes, 47yo and I still sleep with a teddy bear.  I cannot sleep without him.  I am also afraid of the  dark so I have a night light in the form of a Febreze luminary burning in my room at night so I can see.  I know, I’m a freak.

Do you remember your dreams when you wake up?

VERY rarely…and most that I do remember are just plain WEIRD.

Any strange stories about sleepwalking/talking or anything of that nature?

To my knowledge I do not walk or talk in my sleep.  I DO sleep like the dead, however.  The first hubby had to come home from the firehouse one night after being injured in a fire (noticing this disturbing trend of marrying fire fighters? Yeah, that trend is OVER).  He had a coworker call me and stay on the phone with me until he got home and took the phone from me.  This is because he knew that if he called and told me he was coming home, I’d not remember it and likely have shot him thinking it was an intruder when he got in the house.  He was likely correct as the next morning, after talking for 20 minutes to his coworker I had NO recollection and was shocked to find the hubby in bed with me.  So maybe I do function in my sleep after all?  Dunno but I am somewhat of a lighter sleeper now so hopefully those days are gone.

How Much Do You Pay For Bling On Your Sling?

My very wonderful, beautiful, normally level headed daughter came over after work last night to hang with the Divas and watch TV.  The UC Bearcats game was on and we were flipping to it during the commercials of CSI:NY and Blue Bloods.  Exciting I know, we live on the edge here.  In all fairness all of us with the exception of Diva Mom have been suffering from some cold/flu bug all week so this was pretty much all the ‘wild party’ any of us were up for at the moment.

During the course of the evening, my darling, intelligent, normally level headed daughter told me she wanted to show me something and asked to use my laptop.  I  brought her to my room and she pulls up the Victoria’s Secret website to show me her latest purchase.  Again, allow me to express that this adorable, wonderful child I gave birth too is my LEVEL HEADED child.  This is the one that does not chase bad guys, does not drive a police cruiser, does not wear bullet proof vests and risk getting shot at for a living. This is my little animal whisperer, that works for a vet, that animals seem to instinctively know she is gentle and sweet. This is my child that is normally a tight wad, not my other one, the adrenaline junkie that has to have all the latest gizmos to hit the market.

So, we pull up the website and she shows me the bra she purchased, available to angels only (card carrying members of Victoria’s Secret).  It is pretty, white, and blinged out with Swarovski crystals…and carries a price tag of…wait for it….wait for it… $250!!!!!  AFTER I picked myself up off of the floor I told her to hand me her cell phone so I could call Lord Voldemort her father to let him know we would be transporting her to the local hospital as she obviously is suffering from head trauma.  When he gets wind of this purchase he is going to flip the hell out.  Suddenly that cute little hamster she has had living in her room for 3 weeks that he just learned about isn’t going to seem like a big deal.  **SIDE NOTE: Our dear daughter LOVES animals, and has more critters than FarmVille to her name. Live ones, that require real care and will really die from starvation should she fail to feed them…most are housed at her boyfriend’s house but once in a while she slips one in her room while daddy is at the fire house.** Dear Grumpy Dwarf ex-hubster, we have bigger issues here than what the latest 4-legged creature is that she is hiding from you, wake up and smell the coffee!

Okay I am female, I love girlie things, especially lacy bras and pretty shirts.  I am all over sexy shoes too.  (I hate panties/thongs/g-strings so I never bother to wear any though I will be the first to admit if you are going to wrap up that package for your man there are some very nice ones out there)  BUT SERIOUSLY $250 FOR A BRA BLINGED OUT WITH RED CRYSTALS?????  Who the hell wears this stuff?  If I spent that kind of money on a boobie sling that baby would be encased in glass and hanging on the wall, NOT  being worn on my body.  Well I might go do a photo shoot wearing it first, but dear GAWD what is this kid thinking?

We will need to hire armed body guards, “please back away from the bra” when she goes out in it.  The Divas, once they got over the sticker shock, began discussing who should inherit the boobie sling should Liesl for some reason pass away or decide she no longer wanted the bra.  Obviously my 38D’s won’t be needing it, they wouldn’t fit.  My niece and sister have the exact same size so the fight is on between them for the blinged out pebble push-up enhancement crystal encrusted  underwear.  OMG this is just insane!

Hopefully I’m not violating any copy right laws, after all I give full credit and the link to purchase this OVER PRICED piece of lingerie, but really, $250 for this???? (model and boobies not included)

I blame her father.  She is obviously suffering mentally from this divorce that he wanted.  It’s all his fault!

Five Questions

1. Who is the better cook, you or your spouse?

2. How often do you talk to your mom?

3. Are you adventurous in the kitchen or stick to the recipe?

4. Is your second toe longer than your big toe?

5. Do you dress up for Halloween? (Bonus question: What will you be this year?)

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

1. Who is the better cook, you or your spouse? Well when I was married, hubby was the better cook.  I HATE cooking, just not my thing.  I am most familiar with the fridge (where the beer is kept cold) and the coffee maker (where the coffee is hot).  Never have been one that liked cooking.  YES I can cook, I can follow a recipe and will even get brave now and then and screw it up change things but I still hate it.  He on the other hand is an awesome cook.  That reminds me, need to email old Lord Voldemort ex-hubster and see what he’ll charge us to make us Diva’s a big tray of his incredible stuffed shells.

2. How often do you talk to your mom?
Daily.  It is kinda hard to avoid, we live together.  Though it was at least every other day if not every day when I was married too.  I am close to my mom which is a good thing.  If not verbally in person or via the phone, it was on email and texts.  Mom is in her mid  60′s but she is tech savvy and can BBM, IM, text, Twitter, Facebook and email etc.

3. Are you adventurous in the kitchen or stick to the recipe?

Simply entering the kitchen is rather adventurous for me!  To actually approach the stove and make food is a big hairy deal really.  As far as recipes, yes I will deviate if I think I can do something better.  As stated in a blog yesterday, when entering the kitchen I tend to Tweet and Facebook to the local fire boys to be on standby just in case, one never knows with me.

4. Is your second toe longer than your big toe?

Nope mine have a nice, slant from the big one down to the small one.

5. Do you dress up for Halloween? (Bonus question: What will you be this year?)

Most years of late I do dress up, however this year I am not certain.  I like to dress up as Cruela DeVil but I may be loaning the costume out to a friend.

FAWK YOU FRIDAY – 10/22/10

BWS tips button

Oh yes it is that time again…rounding up the F U’s.

WARNING – THE FOLLOWING HAS BEEN RATED PG-13 FOR LANGUAGE AND CONTENT

Means if you are easily offended by the F-bomb and other choice curse words, this is NOT a good post for you to be reading. Stop now..you’ve been warned.

 

FUCK YOU to the medication I am taking for this damn cold/flu whateverthehellitis virus.  Shit makes me have the most bizarre dreams.  First it was sitting there on the front porch, talking to my youngest bro who is our landscaper since Lord Voldemort the ex-husband won’t do it any longer.  There I sat, in my jammies, with a bright pink mohawk, chatting with little bro while his fire fighter co-workers mulched our leaves and weeded the flower beds.  Yeah, well when I woke up and looked out the window I saw that the leaves were still there.  Then there was the dream of the giant, talking bed bugs, and the one where Grumpy Dwarf the ex-hubby and I were actually talking like old friends about his 20-something year old girlfriends (yes plural) and I’m all supportive, and he put his arm around me like we are now suddenly best buddies while shopping for Christmas for our kids (when hell fucking freezes over maybe)…this damn virus has to go, these meds are seriously fucking with my brain.

FUCK YOU to the virus I’ve contracted.  How the hell can I support the alcohol industry when I can barely handle one damn beer in an evening because I am already bouncing off the walls in a foggy, confused state of fever and exhaustion.  More than one beer I forget who the hell I am.  This is NOT good for me doing my part to financially secure the jobs of those that make and  sell beer!

FUCK YOU annoying alarm clocks.  I want one like the GPS I think we need. Some sexy male voice that gently rouses me from my slumber with sweet things like “come on gorgeous, time to open those stunning eyes and bring that sexy body out of bed, you can do it princess” rather than that blaring, god awful shit that it does now.

T.G.I.F.

 

I Don’t Fart Fairy Dust

I am not a mommy blogger.  I was never a stay at home mom.  I have nothing against them and actually follow quite a few, enjoying the posts about their kids etc.  But my ‘babies’ are now 20 and 26 years old.  On my  horizon is the grandma chapter but it isn’t here yet. And when it does arrive, I am not the type to post that my grandbaby did a mean old #2, if I felt the need to share that it would read something like “junior blew an atomic bomb of nasty shit”.   We home schooled our kids but not for a bunch of lofty religious reasons (easy now I’m a bible believing Christian), we did it cause we were fed the hell up with the local school system and private schools were not in the budget.  By the time the oldest reached the end of 5th grade we decided we couldn’t possibly mess this kid up any worse than the schools were doing so we yanked him out and finished educating him at home, his sister never stepped foot in a traditional classroom until college.

I am not a recipe blogger either.  I have a few dishes I can make fairly well, but I am NOT a cook by any stretch of the definition.  While I make the few things I do very well, and not from a box, Hamburger Helper and Stew Helper would be my best buddies and the pizza man would be on speed dial if I was in charge of the regular cooking in the Diva Den.  The ex used to joke on his Facebook and Twitter telling his coworkers at the fire house to be on stand-by when I was cooking.  It was funny but not all that unrealistic an idea!  When I navigate the kitchen it is all about coffee or beer.  I gladly do dishes and clean up the kitchen but no one will ever mistake me for Betty Crocker or Martha Stewart.

I don’t have a review blog – seriously who would pay me or give me their products to review?  I’m probably a little TOO blunt and honest.  “The sauce tastes like motor oil and the pasta had the consistency of wallpaper paste” isn’t exactly what they are looking for in negative reviews I’m thinking.  As far as positive reviews, “was so yummy it would have made my panties wet if I wore them” probably isn’t going to be any more well received.

I am not into politics and don’t have a cause, don’t compost or hug trees.   The closest I am to going green is not wasting water on the front lawn, and that is because I’m too cheap to pay the bill to have green grass in a drought.  I am a huge supporter of rescue critters when it comes to pets and supporting the no kill shelters but that isn’t really my scope of knowledge and really not something I want to write about often.

My blog is just a realistic view of MY life. I write about me and my world.   I love writing, and in a way it is therapeutic for me.  Way back when I started writing blog posts on Myspace, and then later on my first blog page, it was mostly a way to share what was going on with family and friends.  If no one stopped by and read my page I’d still be posting, but as fate would have it I have an audience. That is both humbling and baffling as hell to me.  I refer in my subheading to being a princess after the fairy tale ends, but honestly I am NO fairy tale princess.  More of a border line ready for the funny farm Diva lacking any domestic qualities unless they can be performed on my back in bed (or on top or…okay TMI!!)

My world is not full of rainbows, unicorns, knights in shining armor and while I am usually really happy, I don’t fart fairy dust.  I don’t paint an unrealistic picture, I’m honest.  But just because life has dealt me a few bad hands doesn’t mean I have to wallow in self pity.  No need to draw the shades, dress in black, light candles and go into mourning.  Life is precious, and entirely too short.  Time is the single most valuable commodity we have, every minute spent is without interest and cannot be refunded.

 

Walter from the Jeff Dunham show http://www.jeffdunham.com. If you have NOT seen it, watch a clip, tell me it isn't Pete!

 

I could sit around and feel all down because when Lord Voldemort came by last night to get a piece of mail he was barely civil and had this look on his face like he had just bit down on bat shit when he looked at me.  I am far from being promoted to the top of his favorite people list.  Instead I look at it this way, he wanted out, if it isn’t working out the way he planned and he isn’t deliriously happy, it’s NOT my problem.  I take a more positive perspective, I’m happy, my home is fantastic, I’ve got my Divas and BFFs….bummer, sucks to be you Petey boy (by the way, that  look on your face, the bat shit one? yeah that is why folks dubbed you Walter, honey, try a smile once in a while).

My blog reviews, promotes, discusses and is all about me and or whatever is on my mind at any given time.  It is anything goes most days, and often I participate in blog memes and hops so sometimes it might edge on fluff (just edge though), others it will be raunchy.  Most of the time it is somewhere in between.   I won’t apologize if something is offensive, but support you in your right not to read it.  If you find it offensive, you’d find me equally so, as I tend to talk like I write.  I try to put a disclaimer on it when I say “fuck” a lot, but sometimes I forget.  Just know that I am pretty much rated PG-13 and I already sense a shift or evolution in my focus.  And again, I don’t fart fairy dust. (I love saying that!)

I Am A Recovering Bully…

Yesterday I read a very powerful post by Single Dad Laughing about bullies and being a victim of bullies as a kid.  OMG did I relate to that post!  I got picked on a lot growing up, and until I got to high school and away from all those kids in grade school that had made me a target, I was miserable.  My self esteem was and a lot of times still IS in the toilet.  That is baggage that I’ve dragged through life since then, though I am happy to say over time and through life lessons I’ve gradually left a good deal of it behind.  I will even go as far as to say that the ex-husband had a lot to do with much of it being dumbed on the road side of life.  He has his faults but the man did build up my self esteem in a lot of areas and helped me see myself as a beautiful woman, hot even.  It still is hard for me to accept but I no longer look in the mirror and see plain Jane.

Bullying is not something that is left just to the kids, however.  Adults do it too, only now it is commonly referred to as ‘drama’.  It takes all kinds of shapes, sometimes on online forums, sometimes via social media sites, and even sometimes in blogs.  Bullying can be out and out attacks on a person or their character, or lies and half truths of gossip told behind someone’s back with the intent of turning mutual acquaintances against that individual.  I have been on the receiving end of all of these types of bullying in the recent and distant past, AND I admit, I am guilty of said behavior myself.  I’ve used my blog in the past to attack someone else (those blogs were removed when I realized how juvenile I was being) and I’ve used Twitter for the same purpose (again I did try to clean those up and remove from my feed as I saw how childish it was).  That realization of my negative behavior began to grow as my love and appreciation for me began to grow, which was as my heart was healing through the process of my divorce.

This section of Single Dad Laughing’s blog really stood out to me and got me thinking (emphasis mine):

You see, I’ve learned one universal truth. People who love themselves, don’t hurt other people. The more we hate ourselves, the more we want others to suffer. Every bully that bullied me (and by the end of junior high there were at least a dozen of them) was a desperate and hurting individual. The victim of something going on around them. A soul that was probably crying in solitude as often as I was, even if the crying was silent.

And so, I will ask you now to not hate the bullies. Experience tells me that hating them, or being angry with them, will always make it worse. Instead, put your arm around them. Love them. Tell them that they are valuable. Tell them that you expect great things from them. They will stop the bullying. They will stop, because they will start to love themselves. And people who love themselves don’t bully others.

(copied and pasted from Single Dad Laughing – Memoirs Of A Bullied Kid )

That really hit home with me!!!  I realized that the more I began to heal and really LOOK at Marti, and examine myself during that healing process, the more I began to really LOVE myself.  The more I loved myself, the less I was attacking others.  There is really only one person left that I have issues with, and that I will say negative things about, and that is the ex-husband.  Though I don’t really see that what I write of late that pertains to him is bullying.  But I’m not done examining that yet and I admit I am still hurt, still a tad raw, a bit bitter and angry at him.  Guess I still don’t 100% love myself?

This morning (after I had written and scheduled today’s blogs to publish in the queue late last night) I caught “Jeff Unzipped” on WKRQ.  Jeff shares from the man’s perspective on issues and I tend to find this segment very enlightening.  To sum it all up, he said that when someone has an issue with me, and breaks things off, dumps me as a friend whatever, and says “it’s not you, it’s me”, that this is a true statement!  Even if they say it IS you, something about you (like too full of self, ego, etc), it IS them that has the issue.  We are all who we are and if someone doesn’t like something about us, it is THEIR problem, not ours.  This is pretty much where I was in my thinking when I wrote my post My Ah-Ha Moment when I finally realized that if my husband was telling me the truth, that he had issues with my temper BEFORE he married me, that was HIS problem that he married me knowing it then stayed married to me for just shy of 23  years!  It wasn’t like that was a sudden issue that popped up, I’ve ALWAYS had a temper, always shot off my mouth before thinking, and always went for the emotional jugular on whoever I was going off on at the time.

Thanks to Lexapro I HAVE gotten much better at handling emotional outbursts, but that doesn’t mean there are none.  I’ve unloaded on the ex-husband a few times since I started taking it, but the intensity has gradually diminished.  I openly admit, I did not really love myself much during that time as my marriage to what I thought was Prince Charming was ending and seemingly it was my fault.  I felt like a complete and utter failure.   I now understand it wasn’t my fault, I am what and who I am, it is his own fault for marrying me knowing my faults and then staying there tolerating the ‘intolerable’ for so long. HE was the failure, he failed to love me unconditionally, failed to uphold the marriage vows (better/worse, richer/poor, good times/bad, sickness/health).  He failed when he said “I do” and he didn’t.  I cannot force someone to accept me, so I am better off on my own in this case and I’m not sorry he was so miserable, his misery was of his own choice. But I do admit, I bullied him every time that I went for his throat in verbal anger with the intent to hurt and wound his heart, and for THAT I am sincerely sorry.

Part of my self examination in recent months and the coming to love myself more, is also realizing the need to admit when I did something wrong and apologize.  3 people come to mind at this time, and since the bullying was done publicly the apology is deserved that way as well.

Pete – exhusband, aka Lord Voldemort, Grumpy Dwarf, He Who Shall Not Be Named – I am sorry for any bullying or attacks I’ve made.  I stand by my thoughts and feelings that I have written, and while I cannot prove it beyond a mountain of circumstantial evidence I still believe that Mary had more to do with your desire to leave me than my temper did.  However I do very much apologize for the 3 times I wished you dead and hurt you so deeply, it was bullying without a doubt.  The nicknames etc, I use them in fun, but if they hurt you in anyway I apologize.  I will refrain in the future.

Cinnamon A. – I fully admit that many times I am guilty of bullying tactics in referring to you in most unkind terms, and blogging/tweeting some pretty mean spirited stuff your way. I believe I have removed all of that, but if not feel free to point it out and I’ll take those down.  Either way, I apologize, I was totally out of line and definitely admit I was out to piss you off and hurt your feelings.  We are, for whatever reason, oil and water, but I do think you are one of the more level headed, strong women I know.  Please, don’t stoop to the level I did, you are better than that! (By the way, Cinnamon is a really great writer and you’d very much enjoy her blog page if you surf over to Cinfulcinnamon’s Blog Page if she had a button I’d add it to my page of folks to follow, but she doesn’t so use the  link)

Teresa/Queenie – I don’t even know what to say here.  To this day I don’t really understand what it is that caused you to suddenly turn your back on me and get into the middle of a fight you did not have a dog in.  I only know that something about my blogs, none of which attacked you, but rather focused on me and my pain, my happiness etc., caused you to feel you needed to remove me from your life.  I’m sorry you felt that way, but I am who I am and won’t apologize for that.  If you cannot handle who I am, I respect your right to turn away, that is your choice.  I am glad you befriended the ex-husband, and hope that he finds support and love from you and Randy.  I DO admit to taking on bullying tactics with the blog I wrote on my other page.  It is the only one in which I ever got shitty.  I admit to taking a swipe or two on forums we both visit, I apologize for any of those as well.  I don’t believe I have made a shitty post about you on this blog page but if I have please let me know.  The other one, by the time you see this, will be gone.  It was written to lash out and hurt you, and I apologize for that.

I am perfectly imperfect, full of faults and character flaws.  But I am also a very good person, very loving and forgiving, and I admit when I am wrong. I AM a recovering bully, but working on that and on loving myself more and more every day.  It is easy to ‘bully from behind a PC or say things about someone when they are not present to defend themselves. But again, I’m working on that.

Life In The Fruit Loop Garden….

Welcome to my brain.  It is a scary place, nothing normal goes on here, I grow some strange thoughts and often the only similarities or commonality is….well that they are mine.  :)   My gray matter is like a bowl of fruit loops, random flavors and colors, and nothing I am about to share is connected short of it passed through my thinking today.  You’ve been warned.

I worked today, okay WE worked today.  My sister helped me and thankfully so.  I had to go to the Dayton office and get it in order.  5 trips to the dumpster and we just scratched the surface.  I have a cool toy there, a paper shredder.  Hey, don’t judge, I found it endlessly entertaining to feed it full of papers that require shredding to protect folks personal information.  I packed up the computer, cleaned and got things in order.  It is a long way from perfect but we were there damn near forever (6 hours of my day is a fucking very long time, especially when I was tired, and wanted to sleep in rather than get up).  Sleep deprivation sucks.  See why the paper shredder was so entertaining, I was not operating on a full tank.

Shopping at Target afterward was probably NOT a great idea.  I always spend money when I do that.  Not bad enough that I truly HATE to shop (I know how totally UN-Diva of me), but then I spend money!  ARGH!  But they had a good deal going on Halloween candy and candy corn.  We needed to start stocking up for the little Trick-or-Treaters that will be descending before we know it.  Seriously, the time is flying by and next thing you know it will be Christmas!

PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT: We interrupt this blog to alert you to the following information:

There are only 83 shopping day until Christmas!!!!!!

We now return you to your regularly scheduled blog post already in progress….

Any day after Halloween passes is open season on Christmas decorating around here.  In fact if Diva Mom turns her back on us, me and Diva Boo will have the trees up!  Yes, trees! With a house this big we will have at least 2 trees.  And I am SO proud of myself, I’ve already started shopping for the holidays.  Lord Voldemort hates Christmas, in fact in the near future I will refer to him as Ebenezer Scrooge, who doesn’t hold a candle to old happy britches (NOT) during the holidays. He even  made mention when I asked for some of the Christmas decorations that are sentimental to me, that he isn’t planning to even bother putting up the tree.  Whatever, I will just go over and do it with my daughter when she is ready, after all it is HER home too and if she wants her mama’s help we can do it when Grumpy Dwarf is at work.   DAMN it will be nice to really ENJOY the holidays for a change!

**NOTE TO DAUGHTER AND SON – NOW would be an excellent time to be handing over your wish lists so I can get my shopping done EARLY.  EARLY  = Before Black Friday.**

Hee hee….I had Starbucks.  A pumpkin latte and a huge, thick slice of banana nut bread.  Hey, it was the only thing I had to eat today other than coffee and a few Sun Chips.  I was fucking starving very hungry with all that work we had to accomplish.  I blame Diva Boo, it was all her idea.  I really didn’t think it was a good idea, after all it is not exactly a healthy cup of delight they serve up there.  And I wasn’t implying that we really should actually purchase the banana nut bread to go with it.  I was merely pointing out that it was there and IF we would ever want something like that with our lattes that of course I would just happen to have $5 to spring for them but I was in no way encouraging her to actually go through with that madness.  But then once she did I couldn’t just throw it away! After all, there are starving kids in Africa and so we should not waste our food!

It is grocery shopping day in the Diva Den.  This will be an extra fun trip because we (Diva Mom, Me and Diva  Boo) will be doing it during the dinner hour when we hope the rest of the township is actually HOME, eating dinner, and not crowding the aisles of the grocery store.  Hey, I can hope right?

It is wine night in the Princess Palace (ie: Diva Den), we have 2 different bottles of Middle Sister wine to try. WARNING: there COULD be drunk blogging….definitely there will be drunk tweeting, texting and sexting.

Diva Mom is down the hall at the moment, having a conversation with the linens in the linen closet.  And to think these chicks think I have a screw loose?  HA at least I came by it honestly, and I have never had a conversation with a stack of towels, wash clothes or a box of Always pads!!!    Stop laughing. little brothers, the insanity gene is hereditary and you did NOT by pass that one either.

Crap, there are finger prints on my reading glasses.  This annoys the hell out of me!!  OH lookie there, not finger prints, paw prints! Wonder who did that? Pixel Kitten! You rotten feline!!!!!

Enough fruit loops, off to hell the grocery store. I’ll tweet that adventure, with photos even.  Tune in there! Or don’t…really won’t matter, I’ll do it anyway…

Applications No Longer Being Accepted

~*~  ~*~  ~*~

“I’m selfish, impatient and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can’t handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don’t deserve me at my best.”
~ Marilyn Monroe

~*~  ~*~  ~*~

I LOVE that particular quote, it is very much how I feel.  I am selfish, my life is all about me and the world I move in revolves around me.  I am definitely impatient, when I want something I want it NOW.  And insecure? Sure, I think everyone is insecure.  While I am very comfortable in my own skin and with who I am, there are days I lack confidence in my own abilities.  Mistakes – oh boy do I make some doozies, left to my own devices I can chalk up some gold medal winners single handedly.  Out of control is another given, I have a temper and I have been known to throw a class ‘A’ temper tantrum though I have ceased the really bad ones (thanks Lexapro).  I still get kinda out of control when having fun and rarely stop to think or care what anyone else thinks of me in a given situation, I act for me and me alone.  SO those things make me a bit hard to handle for some (like Lord Voldemort/ex-husband).

At my best I am a very loving person.  I am very loyal to those that I love and often forgiving of their short comings to a fault.  I never trash my man to anyone and therefore often had trouble relating to other wives during ‘hen club’ sessions.  I never spoke negatively about my hubby, though believe me he has his share of faults, some glaring.  I am very protective of those I love.  I am simple and easy to please, very affectionate and I enjoy intimacy (yes I LOVE sex – there I said it). I’ve blogged in the past about why I think I’m over all a pretty cool chick to know.

BUT if you want all the good that I am, and believe me there is a lot of good in this perfectly imperfect woman, then you have to be willing to accept the bad along with it.  I no longer make any apologies for who and what I am, what you see is what you get and if you don’t like it fine, move along because you are holding up the line for those that want the total package.

I recently posted a blog about searching for friends with benefits, Qualifications For A Frog Prince With Benefits and stated that applications were being accepted.  Well that application process has now been closed, I am no longer accepting applications for this position.  The response was flattering, to say the very least, lots of interesting pigs men wanted to be considered (don’t take offense, remember, the ex is the one that told me all men are pigs, before he showed me he is their king).  I’ve seen quite a number of these swine gents and given a few a serious test drive.  I really cannot say I found fault in any of those as far as the benefits side of things is concerned. Ya’ll are rocking oinkers!  However, for now the position has been nicely filled.

Amongst the number of hogs and wild boars many fine fellas that I’ve met, one from the past emerged.  He was an online friend, and a few times in person hug and hello.  He was unaware of any application process currently taking place, I more or less sought him out.  I was on my way to the office one Saturday and spotted a guy on a motorcycle that reminded me of this one.  I had kept his number over the years, though I’ll be damned if I know why, just a ‘feeling’ I should not erase that one when I did my periodic clean up of my phone contacts.  I first did what every cyber crack addict does, and got online and tried to find him on Facebook, Myspace, Twitter and through old email addresses.  When that didn’t work I decided to just call him.  My hesitation in this was I didn’t know if he was currently involved with anyone and I did not wish to create any drama in his life.  However it was my last remaining option so I called and left a message on his voice mail. Within minutes he phoned me back, launching us into an interview process ‘get to know you’ cycle with Mr. Hot 50+ (now known as Mr. Twisted Steel And Sex Appeal – which he TOTALLY is!).

I’ve been privileged to be the fender fluff on his bike a few times of late, and recently the passenger in his really sweet and sexy Corvette.  We’ve exchanged emails, many phone calls, and spent time together both for and without the benefits.  He is all twisted steel and sex appeal, nice hard muscles, wrestles, musician, and scores tops on the benefits charts.  He expressed that he had no interest in the ‘lifestyle’ I participate in, as he is not one that likes to “share”, but he would never ask me to stop doing something I enjoy, and he didn’t feel he has the right too, he simply did not care to know anything about what I did apart from him.   I admit, when I thought about somethings he said, I am not all that keen on sharing him at this point either.  For now I want to get to know him, spend time with him, and enjoy this friendship cupcake that is so generously iced.  No, not in a commitment sort of arrangement, this friendship is far from that if it ever ends up there. We’ve both been burned badly by the fires of emotions and both overly cautious about entering that inferno again.  I’d say the best way to put it is we’re both only interested in one dessert selection off of the cart for the moment.  So for now, just really not interested in gluttony when it comes to the FWB (one great one is more than enough), I’m going to enjoy this special friendship and the fringes that go with it.  I’ll still enjoy my guy friends just not the physical side of those friendships.

So, for now, the “toad” I kissed recently turned out to be a gentleman in disguise and I think I will just hang out here in this pond for a while.  Life is short and I’m not passing up a good thing.  If we get bored with each other, I’ll hop off this lily pad and open up the application process again.

Day 10 → Someone I Need To Let Go, Or Wish I Didn’t Know

30 Days of Truth

Day 10 – Someone You Need To Let Go, Or Wish You Didn’t Know

I’ve been thinking on this post for well over a week now, trying to determine if I have a ‘need to let go’ issue or a ‘wish I didn’t know’ issue.  I am really a firm believer that everyone that comes and goes in our lives is there, however briefly, for a reason.  We may not see it or understand until long after we can look back, if there ever is an enlightening time, but everyone serves a purpose.  Garth Brooks wrote a great song, The Dance, that often over many years, rings true to me again and again.

Looking back on the memory of
The dance we shared beneath the stars above
For a moment all the world was right
How could I have known you’d ever say goodbye
And now I’m glad I didn’t know
The way it all would end the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance I could have missed the pain
But I’d of had to miss the dance
Holding you I held everything
For a moment wasn’t I the king
But if I’d only known how the king would fall
Hey who’s to say you know I might have changed it all
And now I’m glad I didn’t know
The way it all would end the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance I could have missed the pain
But I’d of had to miss the dance
Yes my life is better left to chance
I could have missed the pain but I’d of had to miss the dance

During the course of this year I have often thought about those words as I have worked through the pain of my divorce.  23 years is a long time, in fact fully one half of my life.  I spent one half of my life married to the man that was Prince Charming to me.  My love for him is still there, I doubt it will ever not be the case.  I loved him unconditionally, staying even when he gave me reason to file for a divorce, and other times when it just got so hard and so painful to be married to him through his 17 surgeries and the asshole he was throughout, because I loved him that much.  I believed in him and he was the center of my world.  The hardest thing to face for me was that my love and devotion was one sided, that only one of us really meant “for better or worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, til death do us part”.

I’ve never not taken ownership of the issues that I myself had, once I was able to see them.  With medical help I was diagnosed with what is a simple chemical imbalance and medicate that problem with a great, antipsychotic drug that balances out the serotonin.  It took missing my meds for 2 days for me to SEE for myself just how that imbalance was impacting my emotions, taking them to the extremes.  It is too late to do anything about the past, but for the future I am able to be ‘normal’.  In that two day span I saw crystal clear what I must have been like, not all of the time, but on those occasions when for whatever reason I’d be off balance and hit overload.  I’ve also began to seriously wonder if I wasn’t ADD as well, as I’d obsess about things at times, which I also no longer do to such abnormal extremes.

Over the past few weeks I’ve regretted the way things ended between me and hubby.  Oh I joke around here and there now calling him Lord Voldemort, He who shall not be named, and of late Grumpy Dwarf.  But it is now in fun, not out of a mean spirit.  I never really had a malicious intent toward him, just a lot of raw pain I struggled to over come.  I won’t say my heart is healed, as it is not.  My intentions for 23 years were always to make him happy, and to love him no matter what.  It was hard to be tossed out of his life and see him move on so fast to something or someone else, whatever the case may be.  By the time he told me he wanted out, he was already ‘moving on’ with his life, I was just facing it for the first time.  His present, of being a single man and going out and being free of me, was still my future.  His mind and heart had left me behind and started new, while mine was just standing up after the storm, chest deep in debris from the shock and realization that it was over.  Throughout these past months he has turned completely away, blocked me from contacting him and even has a very angry, hateful attitude toward me.  He never was able to understand why I was so upset and angry at him throughout the months prior to our divorce, he never grasped that he was months, even years (according to him) ahead of me in the acceptance phase.  I don’t know exactly how he expected me to react, maybe he thought I’d be sending him flowers and wishing him well, when instead I lashed out at times in hurt.  I made threats at times regarding the house and other parts of the divorce settlement, but never carried through on them.  When the time came I kept my word, signed the papers, and walked away.  All in all I think I handled things very well for someone that was so deeply in love and so devoted, after being handed my heart in a thousand pieces and rejected.

I’ll forever regret that things did not turn out the way I had dreamed, that we’d grow old together.  I regret that loving him with everything in me was not enough.  I regret that while I was very much in love and happy, he was not.  I also regret that he is angry and not willing to even attempt to be civil for the sake of our kids.  I do not regret that for 23 years I was able to share my life with my Prince Charming, to be his lover, to find my strength in him, to turn to him when I needed reassurance or help, or find security when I was afraid.  I will always have a spot in my heart for him.

Recently someone asked me to really think hard, IF Pete ever wanted to put things back together again, would I be willing to try.  I thought on that, a long time.  Even with the help of the medication to bring me in line, even though I love him still and always will, the answer is no.  It is him that I need/needed to let go.  I knew when I came up on this topic that my friend’s question was in perfect timing. And I went through a mental and emotional process over the past week of doing just that, letting ‘him’ go.

I also came to the realization that in time, I MIGHT allow myself to love someone like that again.  But it will be slow in coming about.  I deserve someone that will love me with the same intensity that I love, that will love unconditionally, that will see me as a blessing in their life, and see how fortunate they are to have me.  Just the way I felt about Pete, I deserved that in return.  Next time, IF there is a next time, I will not stay in a relationship with anyone that does not match me in opening up their heart and soul to me, the way I did for Pete, the way he never was able to for me.  We all bring baggage along in life, and that is fine.  But don’t hide it, put it out there so we both know what we are getting into.  Talk, share, and be open about what is tolerable and not tolerable.  But if you want to take my love, you better be giving just as much back and giving first, or it won’t be yours to have.

So..it is Pete, Lord Voldemort, He who shall not be named, Grumpy Dwarf etc, that I need to let go.  There is the door, good luck and don’t let it hit  you in your cute, tiny little ass.

Click here for more information about the 30 Days of Truths

« Older Entries