More if they were a cartoon...

Sulie:

Miss Brown:

Skipper/Cousin Elise:

We Know Polly the up and coming Internet Dating Entrepreneur:

and this one needs no intro:

I swear it will be my last dig....

Defining Useless

Okay, I am going to get serious here.  I want to talk about Michael Phillips.  No need to change names on this one.  I heard about Michael on This American Life.  This started as a radio show on NPR and now it is on Showtime.  You can download podcasts on itunes.  Ira Glass is fabulous.  Well, the show I saw about Michael really stayed with me.  Michael has spinal muscular atrophy. He has lived past the age that the experts predicted.  He has a trach and is vent dependent. (Okay I am soundy too nursey).  He has a tube in this throat that is connected to a ventilator that does the work of breathing for him. This particular episode of This American Life has to do with Escape--the freedom of being on your own. He was asked who he would have do his voice if he could choose.  He said Ed Norton or Johnny Depp.  Johnny Depp actually did it!  It was fabulous.  It is so weird but I live next door to Michael's stepdad.  I went to a holiday party with Dillhole back in 2007.  Michael's stepdad and Mom were at the party too (they are divorced but remain friends).  I never put 2 and 2 together until a few weeks ago when my sister was talking to Michael's Step Dad about Michael at a party I had.

Here is the link about the episode :

http://www.sho.com/site/thisamericanlife/previous_episodes.do?episodeid=130486

He has a lot to say and he writes it.  He uses a MacBook Pro and assistive software to write:

http://www.lithiumcreations.com/

http://www.tampabay.com/features/humaninterest/article481020.ece

I friended Michael on Facebook recently.  I noticed his posts were pretty dismal--I can't judge.  I have no idea what it would be like to not be able to be verbal, drive a car or any of the other things I take for granted.  He did a status update that said he was "useless."  It made me think about the definition of useless.  I can't speak for Michael but I suspect he may have meant in the physical sense.  Useless to me is the when nothing positive is being put forth.

Today is Michael's birthday and he has made it clear he does not want birthday wishes.  I respect that.

The Dream

I went to bed last night feeling good. I had purged all the memories. I made people laugh. Well,I had the CRAZIEST dream last night.

Sidebar--my guyfriend that lives in the Memphis area (let's call him "24) sent me a message that I should add lesbianism to my blog to "increase my readership."First let me reiterate that my goal is not to get tons of readers--it is to get it all out and to hopefully help others that are earlier in the process. 24 is a funny guy that I used to work with. He is very good looking (and he knows it). His goofiness tempers his good looks. He is married and he and his wife adopted a beautiful little girl from China a few years ago. Well, 24, this post is for you because it is the closest to lesbianism this blog will get to!

This is what 24 would look like if he were a cartoon:

The Dream:

I was at a really long table. Like the kind Henry VIII all fat and goutish would be sitting at the end gnawing on a turkey leg. My dinner companions were all the men I had known (you know what I mean). I decided if I mention a guy from greater than 20 years ago that he gets to keep his own name. This name changing thing is exhausting! Ironically, John was seated directly across from me. In the dream I had a bad headache (and I woke up with one). George was the college boyfriend that gave great neck rubs and could do cool things with acupressure for headaches. I asked him to rub my neck between courses and he obliged. By the way, everyone was the age they were when I dated them.Nice since a couple have not aged so good.Tim (the boyfriend during my new wave stage) had on eyeliner and more hair gunk than any woman (note to readers--never date a man that uses more hair care products than you do). He was from my London Victory Club days. I stopped seeing him when he gave me critical feedback on the foundation I was using at the time. My first husband was there (one moment, calculating...we were divorced in 1998. He earns a code name and it will be: Duke). He is English and one of my friends nicknamed him the Duke of Narcisse. Duke is quite fit.  We were married at the time when my Mom died. We went to England shortly after her death. I took some of her ashes with me and we scattered them at places she would have liked--by The Orient Express since she loved Agatha Christie, New Scotland Yard in London because she loved crime mysteries, Canterbury for the history and outside a really cool pub. For several years Duke would take pictures of the garden at Canterbury where we scattered her ashes. It was really thoughtful. He is now married to an English woman and they still live on St. Pete Beach. You may say, Penelope--why aren't you with Duke anymore? Let's just say we are better friends that spouses. The on again, off again guy that I had known since my Gainesville days was there. He earns a nickname because our history has spanned more that 20 years (he is the guy I rented the condo from). My sister used to refer to him as Dillhole. Dillhole didn't like strawberries. Can you say RED FLAG? Actually, there were many, many more Red Flags with Dillhole that go beyond the scope of this blog. My history with him is a whole other talk show that I don't even want to think about. Jimmy my high school boyfriend was at the table. I remember we had taken my older sister's copy of Our Bodies Ourselves and read everything on birth control. We went to the free clinic on Waldo Road in Gainesville so I could get on the pill. I was so afraid of the pelvic exam.  He asked the nurse if he could hold my hand during the exam. She said no. My blood pressure shot up after a couple of months on the pill and I had to go off. I got a diaphragm. Jimmy's Mom found it (I hid it at his house). She sat us down and explained that his little sister was a diaphragm baby and that she wanted me on a better form of birth control.    Hilarious. I thought she was going to yell at us. Instead we got counseling. He was also a cheater. He married one of my sister's classmates and lives in the area.    I hear he goes by "James" now. You may think there are tons of guys at the table but I have really been a serial monogamist. Spencer was there (from last year--took me to NYC). Thoughts on Spencer:  He was named after his Father and he had a dorky first name and a cool middle name. He chose to go by the dorky name.Weird. He is also is a huge Rays fan.Remember how I said sports mean nothing to me? He has season tickets to the Rays and I spent more time at baseball games than I care to admit. He took me to the first 2 World Series games.    I told him it was like giving a fine cabernet to a white zin drinker. This is all part of knowing what to look for in a mate. No more sports fanatics. I once read a book at a Houston Astros game with John and the boys. A fan got so upset with me. She told me I was a disgrace.I told her I was on a family trip and I was sorry that my quiet existence upset her so much. She was speechless. I am all over the place; back to the dream. It was one of those dreams that seems like it lasted all night.    My therapist and I had talked about dreams and working out resolutions. I woke up a couple of times (with a pounding head) and went back to sleep quickly to get this dream done! It all came to me. John sat there quietly across the table. He watched me get a neck rub, laugh with Jimmy, look at pictures with Duke and interact with all the old boyfriends. I felt nothing towards John. He was just there.

24--Sorry if you expected me to reveal some secret girlfriend! p.s. I had forgotten to program your new cell number and I sent a text to your old number.    I got a reply back from a lovely child that let me know he or she is 13 ("only 13") they said and that they got lots of calls and texts for you. I suggested he or she check with Mom or Dad and see about changing the number.Lord knows what kind of stuff that poor kid is getting that is meant for you!

Setting up a profile on Match

I just sat down to set up my profile.  Match keeps your old info under your email address.  I just laugh out loud reading what I used to have.  No wonder I attracted undesirables. The title was "Hail Mary" (from the woman that can't stand football).  I meant it as a joke since my membership was expiring.  Not so funny.

 I think this is the picture I will post...

Moving forward

So, it is now a little over 2 years after I read the text that changed my life. It would be great if I could write some snappy reason why it happened and how it was a gift. That is not my way.

I have gotten so many responses. Ironically, my guy friends have been the most horrified.  Birch couldn't get past the texts. He said it hurt to read and he could not put energy forward towards John. That is my lovely friend that would often call me and ask "how is your heart?" Love him! Some of my girl friends have said it has scared them. The physical therapist I had after my back surgery who became a friend (let's call her Cherry) said, "it scares me about marriage". She went on to say maybe Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell have it right. I am not anti-marriage. I am pro-honesty.  One of my big lessons moving forward is I will look for a mate that I truly have things in common.  I love Florida, the beach, I read like crazy, I have over 7000 songs on my ipod, sports bore me, and without getting all political, let's just say I think of Fox News as the Comedy Channel.  I married a man that lived in Louisiana, there is no beach, he never read, couldn't name a song, had season tickets to LSU and the Saints and voted for Bush.  I used to beat myself up with really kind words in my head like, "WTF, why did you marry him? Didn't you see all the red flags???"  He had lots of other fun qualities and I compromised.  I won't do that anymore.

I talked to Lynn (therapist extraordinaire) about dating again. I had tried sites like Match and  eHarmony about a year ago. I actually dated a guy for a few months (let's call him Spencer).  He read a lot, had similar politics, owned a home and liked to travel.  He took me to NYC for my graduation.  He had some unresolved issues that came up after our trip.  Next...

Before Spencer there was Special Ops Boy. He was my first... first man I got naked in front of after my divorce!  I was a wreck. I watch too many Law and Order SVU reruns. I had convinced myself everyone is a perp. He was very kind and I would "see" him off and on.  He now lives in the D.C. area.

There were other dates (do we call them dates?) that I can't even recall.  A couple that were married.  One that actually still lived with his wife as a roommate!  Hello???!!  He didn't understand why I said there was no reason to continue our meeting.

Another nice man that I met--let's call him Mr. Ireland. Let me give a shout out--I sent him a link. He was one that was surprised I had put so much out there. He is focused on being a good Dad and that is fabulous.

So my friend Polly is getting ready to launch a really cool new concept for meeting people. I am reluctant to call it Internet dating. I can't wait to tell you all about it.  I am probably going to be one of her first customers!  The web folks are putting the final touches on the site.

In the meantime, I am going to do another profile on match. I am boycotting eHarmony because they do not acknowledge same sex couples. Lynn suggested it is a way to get out there and experiment with talking, seeing what I like, what I don't like, etc. When I did it a year ago I was still reeling from the whole John thing and I wasn't ready to be with someone (mentally at least...)

Off to do my profile.  I need to get my neighbor to take a picture.  I got highlights done today!!!

My Therapist's View on The BLOG

I had an appointment with my therapist today. I told her about the blog and we discussed if it was good or bad (my choice of words). She told me that when she counsels people who have experienced trauma, the goal is to get to a point where they can tell what happened just like they are telling a story. No reliving the emotions and physical responses of the original event. I liked that. One of my first posts I described that it felt like I was writing fiction (sadly it is all true).  The only time I felt upset was when I went through the old texts from the boys.  What do I call them? Step-sons?  Ex Step-Sons? "The boys" works for me. It made me sad for them because their father is so damaged. They have a great Mother, but they are exposed to him. (Sidebar--after I left, the boys would only stay with John on the weekends if he went to the camp. He ended up moving in with Pao after our house sold. Annie would not let her boys live there). It also made me sad because I don't have biological children of my own. My Father died when I was 11 and my Mother kinda shut down. Sulie and I would have to fend for ourselves for dinner.  Sulie learned to cook and I rebelled. I can remember the first few months after I moved to Lafayette. Sitting down as a family for dinner made me really anxious. The boys loved to ask me questions. They liked to sit after everyone was finished and talk. I would shovel my food in and jump up to do the dishes.  It was way too intimate for me! In high school I ate cereal or pizza (come to think of it I still do that). I talked to John about it and he encouraged me to sit and talk and to not be afraid (yes, there were a few redeeming qualities).The boys loved to play a game called Table Topics.  It is a box with a deck of cards that has various questions. The idea is to get the group talking. There are all kinds of versions--for families, kids, adults.  It is really good.  http://www.tabletopics.com/

One night a question came up about how their parents met. I had also bought a set as a gift for Annie's house. They said they had gotten that question while they were eating with Annie and her husband. J (the oldest) brought up the fact that John and Annie had been married twice. Can you imagine if I had never known and I learned about it over dinner in front of the boys vs. over draft beer in Death Valley (that would be the LSU stadium for all my girlie girls out there)?  Oy.

So back to how I feel when I write this stuff. I just had memories of eating dinner with the boys and it made me smile. The twins loved to cook and we would get out cookbooks and try new things.I was traveling one year when it was John's birthday.  I wrote out a recipe for Shrimp Scampi and got the ingredients before I left.  I remember writing "saute" (that means move shrimp back and forth with spatula).  They opened a bottle of wine and videotaped the dinner presentation for me. It was really sweet.

Sometimes if I get all deep thoughts and start to wonder........whatisthemeaningandwhydidIendupwithhim?
I think it is because of the boys. I got to experience a taste of parenting and a different kind of love. I also learned how to eat crawfish really fast, ride a jet ski, dance in a Zydeco bar and be part of a Mardi Gras Krewe.

My intent is not to get back at him when I write this. I have written how staying stuck didn't work for me. When I think of John now it is a kind of detached numbness. When I think of Pao it is the same thing. I spoke to her one night for a couple of hours (I know I have been holding out--I had forgotten about it).  I called her before Christmas (yes, pre-Vienna). She answered and said, ''what do you want?'' I told her I just wanted to understand. She was very polite. Apologetic.  Described a man that heavily pursued her and promised everlasting love. That is how I knew she had been in my house and car.  She was so full of self doubt.  The lack of confidence was palpable. I hung up and realized that he had attracted his mental and emotional equal. I mean that sincerely. It made sense that he was attracted to someone so young. It all added up. She is just beginning her journey. She was already questioning her own red flags. I told her I was not the one to guide her. The last time I spoke to Annie over the summer she told me that Pao and John still lived together.  None of that mattered.  What matters was me moving on.

More on the ManGroomer™

Apparently the ManGroomer™ brings up a lot of emotions:

o   One of my friends told me that she is going to look and see if her husband (let's call him Bono) has one hidden away. Let's hope he has not made the purchase.

o   My nephew's wife (call her Stevie) emailed me that the family had joked about buying a ManGroomer for my other nephew. 

o   I urge everyone to read the reviews on Amazon. It is not worth $39.

o   Did I mention you can buy a case of Vienna Sausages on Amazon and have them delivered for only $32???

o   If the ManGroomer™ was a cartoon it would look like this:

What Guys Say Part Deux

So I was writing while I had color and highlights being done. I am done-- coiffed and back at my computer. Remember the quote from my guy friend, "Success is the best  revenge"? It is so true.I sent a case of Vienna Sausages, I sent scorching texts to both him and Pao, I left voicemails that would curl your toes.  I subscribed to all kinds of parenting magazines in both their names and checked "bill me later".   I was out of control. I was trying to understand it, fix it, make him pay, make her pay...none of it worked. Special Ops Boy (as I referred to the Navy guy) was the one that got through to me. The lightbulb went off. It was so easy.  So Zen. So Oprah.  I was happy.  I lived back in Florida.  I was close to my sister and friends.  I could get to Nordstrom's in less than 10 minutes. There was the beach, Bayshore, Pilates, Mad Dog's and Englishmen, PUBLIX (no more stank ass Albertson's).  That stuff is just stuff but I am a Florida girl. I love the sun, the smell, I can name all the birds and plants, but most of all, in Florida I can heal.

He ignored me at the meeting. He looked down when I passed (with my posse in tow). He never went out. On day 3, I stepped out to get a bottle of water.  He was out in the hall. I asked if he planned on acknowledging me.  He said, "hello, you look nice. It looks like you are doing well." Ahhh....this was the best revenge that Special Ops boy spoke about. We agreed to meet that evening to have a glass of wine and have our farewell. I knew I would never see him again (and it was good).

We met and talked about the boys. I smiled and asked questions. It was very short and then we got up to go to a dinner. It was the award night where everyone lets loose. I lost him in the crowd. One of my operatives told me that he was watching me the whole night. I was thrilled to report that I received that information with indifference.

I went to my room and I received a text from him:

I am in my room. 1004

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Yes, Success is the best revenge.

What guys say

This is the first time I've posted from my iPhone. Forgive typos. I just looked at the counter and 300+ people have viewed this. That is wild. I hope it helps people that have just found out their partner was not who he or she thought they were. Note I said he or she. Phil (attorney with best quote ever "his erection is no longer your concern") told me he had more clients that the wife was the cheater. I "dated" okay, let me rephrase, "entertained" a guy off and on for the last year (part of my Internet dating experience). He is in the Navy and divorced. His wife cheated on him while he was deployed. He gave me some of the best advice. We were talking about revenge and how it can eat you alive. He said that "Success is the best revenge." He told me this after the Vienna shipment (I never told him that story. It tends to make men cringe--sidebar, tell the story to a guy. If he laughs you know he's packing heat. If he grimaces you know he's below average. But I digress.) Back to success as the best revenge...

I worked at the same company as John. I had found out I was being laid off (ironically he was not). The company told us we were gone in 6 months. Nice. Our national sales meeting was scheduled. At this point I had told my boss I was getting a divorce. I kept it topline only. He knew it was ugly but didn't press me for details. So...national meeting meant you know who would be there. My boss told me I didn't need to go. I was being laid off anyway. Long corporate b.s. story--end result was HR said I had to go. Fuck. Initiate plan get fabulous. My ass was on the stepper, I ate popcorn for lunch and dinner and drank water. I bought 5 dresses that rocked. I got my hair did the day before I left. Speaking of hair (I am at salon now). Miss Brown deftly told key big mouths my story. I never bad mouthed John. I let gossip take its course...

You should have seen how he was received. He was a pariah. It was like he was oil dropped into a pool of water. People always knew us as the cute couple. There I was--spanx wearing, standing tall and looking sassy. He sat alone with his goober friend. I would look at his head. It looked like a big basketball. Why didn't I notice that before?

Eek. Time to get color washed out. More later!

One last positive/humorous post before bed

I spoke to one of my friends tonight that works with my good friend "Birch" (recall he is the friend that had his phone on late at night and listened to me recount the nightmare).  I told my girlfriend that I had not told Birch about the blog.  He is my dear friend and a firm believer in moving forward!  I decided to write him and this is what he said:

WOW!!!!!!!   OK so that was  a lot of data and I hope it helps you move forward....he is a waste of your energy and I am so happy for you that the new job is great, credit will be no longer impacted by DICK head and the camp.  I love you

I love that he used the word "data"!!

I have gotten so many texts and emails from my friends about this blog.  I thank you all for listening to me cry, plot, scream and tell the same stories over and over.  

Thank you to the folks I don't know too.  It is funny how something cold and impersonal like the Internet brings us together.

He had a ManGroomer™... WTF??????????????

More ManGroomer™

I shit you not

http://www.myspace.com/mangroomer

Pilates and healing

The weather was beautiful and I started to ride my bike as much as I could.  I began to notice that I had leg pain.  I would go to the gym and it would hurt worse after I got off the treadmill. I would stretch. I would take Advil.  My right leg was numb.  It kept getting worse. Short story long--I needed back surgery.  I saw a Chiropractor, I saw an Ortho, I saw a Spine Specialist.  They all said surgery.  I had a great surgeon and my recovery was fairly smooth.

We've all read about Gwyneth and Madonna and Pilates.  I read an article in the St Pete Times about a new wellness place that opened.  The owner/instructor was also an acupuncture physician.  I called and made an appointment. I started with acupuncture for pain before my surgery.  I started Pilates after I completed my post surgical physical therapy.  We started slow and I loved it.  I found that I didn't look at my watch once during my sessions!  I actually looked forward to working out.  A huge part of my healing had to do with the Pilates and more importantly, my instructor, Natalie (no need to give her a code name).  She encouraged me.  She listened to me rant.  She was kind to me when I was totally depressed.

It's me and Natalie!

http://www.palmwellnesscenter.com/

If my ex was a cartoon...

this is how he views himself:

But wait, he is a cartoon!!!

Neighborhood Whore Watch Committee

After I was all settled in Tampa, I would get well meaning calls, emails and texts related to whore sightings.  Apparently, Pao moved in before I crossed the state line.  You can kind of see under the For Sale sign where my Cajun friend scratched out on the lawn. Straight across the street lived Jeanie.  She is the one that did the stare down in her nightie.  Imagine a call with a thick Mississippi accent, and I quote--"Girl, I stood out there in my nightie with my big titties out and I just stared at that whore and that son of a bitch!"  Priceless.

I called Phil (Boot Wearing, Bulldog Attorney).  I told him I had a real problem that I was paying for half the mortgage and utilities (in good faith until our house was sold so the boys would not have upheaval on their weeks with John) so Pao could live there.  Phil reminded me that he had advised me not to leave the house.  He urged me to move back to Lafayette.  I said, "Phil, if I do that I will need a criminal attorney instead of a divorce attorney."  He agreed and called John.  I am not sure what was said but Pao never went there again!

More ManGroomer™

Okay--I looked at reviews on Amazon (my favorite site--1 click and Vienna Sausages are on their way).  Look at this review from a guy named John on 10/26/07.  The day before I read the text and bad spelling.  I would think it was HIM except we all know I changed names for this blog...

p.s.he did have red scratches on his back!!! LMAO

  is it just me or does this thing resemble a vibrator?

4 of 6 people found the following review helpful:

 It barely even trims hair... VERY dissapointed, October 26, 2007

By	Amazon John (USA) - See all my reviews

I would not recommend buying this item. It does reach spots, but it barely trims hair at all and severely scratches skin. Poor product, very disappointing!

How to spot a LIAR

My guy friend (hmmm...what shall I call him? yes, he will be "Costa") and I talk about body language a lot. We're in sales. We were surprised when we realized we had both read books by Paul Ekman. There are really intersting studies on facial expressions that are authentic vs. forced. Costa and I have talked about lying when it comes to business (i.e. when we didn't trust a word our old VP was saying).  We talk about posture and facial expressions in interviews.  How a person looks when they are remembering something (up and to the right) vs. lying about something (up and to the left). (Disclaimer--there are variables to this please don't try on your partner and decide they are lying).

I think back now to how John carried himself. In retrospect there are some telling things I recall. He was always looking up. I wish I could remember which way. He always used "baby" when he was trying to be convincing. Recall when I asked if he had a girlfriend (sadly I was joking at the time) and he replied, "baby, I want to look good for you."  He would also stare me in the eyes when I was asking him direct questions.  Now I know he was trying to convince me that he wasn't lying!  Before the infamous day of awakening-10/27/07, I had been in Palo Alto for a meeting.  When I checked into the hotel I was told I had a package. It was a box from John.  He had gotten me a new Mont Blanc pen. The week before I had torn the house apart looking for my nice pen that my old teammates had given me when I was promoted.  I was obsessed with finding it.  He went and bought the same exact pen and enclosed a lovely note telling me how much he loved me.  Later, after I had done my own CSI on his BlackBerry and email, I figured out he was already with Peach Flower when he sent me the pen. He was a frickin cliche!  He had also brought me flowers the week before...

So what do I do with all this moving forward? You may wonder if I have dared to dip my toe in the dating waters? I've gone through phases. As you can imagine this whole nightmare was quite damaging to the old self esteem.  I've tried all kinds of Internet dating with marginal results. I will actually switch the tone of this blog to dating after January 1. I have worked through lots of gruesome shit and I feel like I've come out of the muck on the other side.  The counselor I went to when I first moved back really focused on red flags.  Not in a blaming way--more about what was it about that I was willing to compromise and accept less than what I deserve?  There was definitely something there.  I knew that there were issues with John (I had caught him in some significant lies prior to our marriage-never cheating.)--but I always forgave him.

I will tell you this--I can't tell you how many guys I have not given a second thought to because I see the red flags right away. I'm not the bitter beeotch that trusts no one--I just call a spade a spade.

Remember the story about leaving the LSU game to fly home when I found out John had lied about his previous marriage(s)? I went home and refused his calls.  I called Annie (the mother of his boys).  She was very kind. She laid it out for me.  Her quote, I remember like it was yesterday, "what do you want--someone to have fun with or a relationship? He is not someone to have a relationship with."  That was on Sunday.  Monday evening he showed up on my doorstep with flowers.  He told me he didn't mean to not tell me--he had "forgotten" since they were young when they were married the first time.  I didn't crumble right away.  I kept my arms crossed.  I can't remember what made me break.  The guy is smooth.  As my old shrink used to say, "he is in sales and he SOLD you!"

Friends' thoughts on this...

I emailed the link to this to a guy friend.  He commented how surprised he was that I could put all this out there.  It really has not been painful.  I have laughed out loud many times--ManGroomer™, Vienna Sausages, my attorney...I have to laugh or else I will cry.

Without getting into yuck (most of my close friends know this story), the boys are no longer "allowed" to talk to me.  Per our divorce, John had 90 days to refinance the camp and 2 jet skis that were in both our names.  I gave him a year.  He kept paying the mortgage late and that is my credit.  I took him to court and won a judgment.  He told the boys "there would be no money for college because of Penelope".  Pathetic.  Their Mom talked to them and tried to explain.  In the end, he is their father.  I have hung on to some texts and emails from the boys.  I have chosen to clear out that file on my computer.  I am really hurt that they don't speak to me.  This is what I am deleting.  Keep in mind there are lots of abbreviations and misspellings.  The oldest is "J" and the twins are "A" and "H":

After they learned about why I was moving.  John told them it was because he had a new girlfriend-

I know and im very sory that he did that to u. U deserve better. He had no rite & that was the most rong &; immature thing a persn can do.

i love you so much. and thanks for being in my life and caring. we talk to mom everyday now to see  how hes acting around us. we had a bad talk wit him him other day. cant wait to come see you

yeh im good. i feel ya. he said he needed to tell us but i could have gone without that info. lova ya

Thank you  I miss you to. Like a lot. Its different pop’s is there but then he like leaves and says he’s going to meet some friends. A and H get like so hyped up on that he’s talking to someone or something like that. When its weird cuz he never did that before so they can only assume idk he’s being weird. But have a good time with ur sisters im sure that will be fun. And I and E r planning to come to Tampa during spring break for a few days then meet some of r friends in Destin afterwards. 

Happy Thanksgiving,
Love J

I remember that too we all sat down at a round table at Blue Dog Café and we kept quizzing you. Lol. See I miss u so much its not even funny. We used to talk about like anything technology, girls, anthing. We would always ask when you would be home from your trips. I so look forward to coming over there for spring break. And I left m(your sister) a voicemail, thanking her. She didn’t have to do that ..that was very thoughtful.

Love u always,

j

Lol we miss u & ur gayness more  (they mean gay in a good way!)




would love for you to come to my graduation. I would die if u didn’t come lol . But yeah e does have a girlfriend but shes a and h age. But yeah I think our spring break is March 21- 30 so I e c and k want to leave that mon day after easter Sunday. But is still have to have to talk to them. But I would like to make sure if those dates are ok with you first. Ill find out more and let u know when I know.





U mean the world to us and we all love u so much and wish u a merry christmas

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry 

and on that note I will back away from the computer...

Vienna Sausages

You know--potted meat?  I just made a Vienna reference in an earlier post and I know I need to share.  Fast forward to Christmas 2007.  I am starting to feel at home in my rented condo.  I was sitting on the sofa drinking a glass of wine and eating my nightly dinner of tortilla chips while watching Gossip Girl.  I got a text from one of the twins.  In my weird sentimental/neurotic manner I saved it:

hey. just wated to say i love you and you you mean alot to us. today at school we had rachels challenge . she was the first person to die at colombine. and they wanted us to go home and tell the people who they love the most and tell them you love em

That was huge for a 15 year old boy to write.  He started to tell me they had decorated the tree and it wasn't the same without me there.  It made me sad and sad turned to mad and mad logged on to Amazon.  Did you know you can buy a case of Vienna Sausages on Amazon for $32 (that includes shipping)? I clicked and selected the gift option.  I entered Pao's address and typed out a card that read: "Merry Christmas Pao! Remember, size DOES matter!"  I am a frequent Amazon shopper, so there was no need to enter my credit card info.  I giggled and went back to seeing what was happening on the Upper East side.

A few days went by and it was now 12/23. I told Sulie what I did. She laughed and then said, "you need to cancel it-NOW." She reminded me that I was not divorced yet and I needed to appear sane.I went on the Amazon site.  My email dinged.  "Congratulations, your order has been shipped and will arrive by Dec 25!" Shit.  Go to kitchen, open bottle of wine.  Pour in glass and drink.  Repeat often.

Christmas Eve:  Sulie is over and we are eating dinner.  I hear my doorbell.  I go downstairs and my lovely neighbor and friend (let's call her Darla) is standing there will her 6 year old A.  A says, "Merry Christmas" and hands me a plate of cookies.  I look at Darla and tell her how hard it has been since this is my first Christmas after "the Event".  I started to tear up.  Little A hugs my legs and says in her cute lisp, "don't cry."  Oy.  I head upstairs while eating a cookie.

Sulie and I finish dinner and clean up.  The phone rings and I see it is my old home number.  I just know it is the boys calling to thank me for their gifts (they open gifts on Christmas eve).  I answer with a cheery "hello!".  John screams, "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU SENT PAO A FUCKING CASE OF VIENNA SAUSAGES!!!".  All I could do was laugh hysterically.  He then yells, "MERRY FUCKING CHRISTMAS!"

Sing it with me--On the 12th day of Christmas my scorned wife sent to me--24 cans of Vienna Sausages.

Fast forward to the next business day after Christmas.  I call my attorney Phil.  His assistant says he is in court and says he will call back. Later that afternoon Phil calls. I say, "Phil, I did something that was kinda bad...".  "What did you do?", he replies. I tell him my Vienna tale. He calmly says, "that is the funniest thing I've ever heard.  But you have a conscience now and his Name is Phil K.  Next time you want to send a case of Vienna Sausages, call me first.  I will tell you--No!"  I said, "but Phil, it is my goal that he never has another erection!". Phil quietly said, "his erections are no longer your concern."

This is what Amy Dalley would look like if she were a cartoon:

www.amydalley.com


I changed to words to Men Don't Change to fit my needs.  Here goes, 1, 2, 1, 2, 3, 4--


He was a smooth guy and I was a naive girl
He needed me to pay for the mortgages
He'd get his Internet on and look for the ladies
After two years of his crap I read his texts
I'm a magnet for the sociopathic guy
If I know it's a red flag, why do I ignore?

Louisiana is a shithole
Be suspicious if he texts
You know Vietnamese look the same
Yeah, and they own nail salons
Xanax is a band-aid and no matter what they say
Viennas don't grow and cheaters don't change

My ex husband, he is a liar
I found out about his other girlfriends
He made excuses but I still I left him
I swear he needs a warning label to protect other women
But he's a pathological liar, that's why they don't see
He will keep on cheating until he's 83!

Louisiana is a shithole
Be suspicious if he texts
You know Vietnamese look the same
Yeah, and they own nail salons
Xanax is a band-aid and no matter what they say
Viennas don't grow and cheaters don't change

I am on my own now
So far so good
I know that I will be just fine

Scroll to the bottom for the real song.  She is much prettier than the cartoon!

You Want Deluxe Pedicure?

Okay, the counselor I first went to when I moved back told me I
needed to work on my anger towards Vietnamese women. He
reminded me it was the actions of both John and Pao that hurt me.
Her ethnicity had nothing to do with it,

BUT...this is FUNNY!

The Banana

I had to get clothes for my meeting.  I berated myself because I could see all the wardrobe boxes in a storage room in Louisiana.  I put on jeans and a t-shirt and headed to the Banana Republic.  I started to look at clothes.  The store started to close in around me. My heart started to race.  Why am I having to buy new clothes? Why am I starting over at 42?  What was I thinking?  Fuck.  All the pants were 100 bucks or more.  I went to the sale rack.  There's a cute top--oh yeah, I already have it.  I like those pants--oh yeah, there are in a wardrobe box in storage.  I took a deep breath and walked to the counter.  A cute guy that was obviously gay (I say that with love) asked if he could help?  I asked if there was a female sales associate on?  He said, "yes, but she's at dinner.  Can I help you?"  I started to spew, "my husband cheated on me and I had to leave and I don't have any clothes for work and I don't know what to do."  You should have seen his face!  He deftly handed me a kleenex box and ran.  Out came Maria.  She was 9 months pregnant.  She put her arm around me and took me to a dressing room.  She sat me down with my Kleenex box.  She said, "let's see--you wear an 8 or 10 and medium tops, right?"  I nodded.  She came back with tons of outfits from the sales rack.  I stopped crying and started trying on.  We decided on 4 outfits.  All on SALE!  As I exited the dressing room I said to her, "he cheated on me."  She said, "I know--10 years ago I left Pensacola with just a suitcase for the same reason."  She pointed at her stomach and said, "This is baby number 2 with a great guy".  She went on to say, "you don't know it now,but you will be fine."  She hugged me after I paid.  I went into the Banana a month later.  I had a baby gift.  She had a healthy baby girl.

Looking for a new home

I couldn't stay at the beach forever.  Sulie got me in with her counselor right away.  I was a mess.  I kept blaming myself for not seeing that he was such a liar.  Did I mention along with the creepy websites I also found numerous hotel charges for local hotels on days that I was in town?  That and the fact that he was in LOVE with Peach Flower was more than I could handle.  Thank Buddha for Miss Brown. She kept my boss posted as I pulled myself together  We had a meeting coming up.  I realized in my Xanax induced haze that I had packed away all my business clothes.  All I had were jeans, t-shirts and sandals.  I had to find a place to live and get back to work.

Luckily I was able to rent a condo from an old boyfriend for 1000 bucks.  It was 3,500 sq. feet and really nice.  The housing market was so bad here that he and his business partner were happy to get some income.  In a daze, I went with Sulie to Rooms to Throw (yay for 1 year no interest), Best Buy for a T.V. and Thomasville for a bedroom set.

Sulie was my savior.  She drank with me, she listened to me tell the same stories over and over, she spent the night with me so I wouldn't be alone.

Red Flags

Let me take a moment to discuss red flags.  Sometimes they are in your face (thus the color RED), other times they are subtle and they creep up on you when you are tossing and turning in bed thinking "why didn't I know he was a sociopath?"

Here are the red flags I have listed so far:

• He cheated on his first wife while his boys were 18 months and 3 years old.  3 toddlers!
• He worried about the hair on his back.  Don't get me started on the ManGroomer™!
• I didn't trust my gut when the nickname he had for me creeped me out (remember Dulcinea from Man from La Mancha?)

Let's talk about your gut (or my gut).  If there is anything that I have learned it is LISTEN TO YOUR GUT.  Here are some things I didn't like, but I squashed them because he was so nice, so attentive, etc:

First background--how did we meet?  We worked at the same company.  I had known his name since he was one of the top salesmen in past years.  I knew him to say "hi" at meetings.  We had a national meeting in New Orleans.  A group of us went to Bourbon Street one night.  He was there at Razoos.  He bought me a drink.  We talked.  We danced.  He was cute and so "nice".  He made sure I got back to the hotel safe.  We continued to talk after the meeting and began to date long distance.

Okay, back to my gut.  Shit that bugged me in the beginning:

• He would call and leave a message.  If I didn't call back in 30 minutes he would call back again.  I told him I was busy and that he had to trust I would call him back when I had time.  Red Flag--I later found out this guy had zero work ethic.  He couldn't get that I actually worked and personal phone calls were something I did on a break. 
• He loved Las Vegas.  I later learned it was really a love of the craps tables.  Las Vegas is a shithole.  I like it for the first 2 hours after I land.  Take me to the pool or the spa.  I'll keep my money in my wallet thank you. Red Flag-hello, that is why there are all the "do you have a problem with gambling" billboards in Louisiana...
• First time I went to stay with him at the camp he had purchased all the toiletries I use--the Dove deodorant, the liquid soap I used, the same brand of face soap, even make-up.  It really creeped me.  I recall hiding in the bathroom and calling Sulie to tell her it freaked me out.  I also called my friend Birch.  He told me this guy is a "gentleman".  Birch now regrets that assessment because it was a Red Flag!
• We were at a LSU game and one of the wives mentioned the fact that John and Annie had been married twice.  He had never told me.  She also told me the reason he and Annie divorced was cheating.  I had asked him why they broke up.  They really partnered in raising the boys.  He said they just "grew apart."  Long white trash story short--I stewed and watched the first quarter.  I sipped my beer as I formulated my plan.  He asked me what was wrong.  I told him I wanted him to take me to get my suitcase and to a hotel.  He was stunned.  We got to the car and I blasted him.  He said it wasn't important that he and Annie had been married twice (the first time they were in college and it was before the boys were born).  He told me he was embarrassed that he had cheated.  Said it wasn't like him.  He didn't want me to judge him. I packed my stuff, got a room at the Marriott and the only flight available was to Orlando.  I got Big John (the guy that always drove me to the airport) to pick me up at MCO for 100 bucks.  I cried and told him the story the whole way home.  Big John's words--"this guy has major commitment issues and you really need to think about whether you want a future with him or not."  Knock, knock.  Who's there?  Red.  Red who? Red Flag!

Change of Scenery

So I get to my new "home" on St. Pete Beach and this is the view:

Big difference from what I was used to:

What's in a name?

I just talked to my friend (hmmm...what shall I call her?--Polly). If Polly was a cartoon this is what she would look like:

She cautioned me about using the real name of the other woman. Especially since I've changed all the other names. When I cut and pasted the putrid texts I just left her name. I heeded Polly's advice and went back and changed her name a bit. She is now "Pao" as in Kung Pao. I also shortened the name of my attorney. He is fabulous and I would highly recommend him. Phil will appear again in this blog many times. Polly also asked me what I expected to do with this blog as far as duration and content. My intent is to completely purge all that is related to "John and Pao" by January 1. Kinda like John and Yoko. Except this "John" was not a talented songwriter, musician, and humanitarian and I think Yoko is Chinese. Chinese, Vietnamese, they all look the same, right? Oohh--I just had a visual of Ghetto Sister waving her hand with index finger extended getting ready to kick my ass!

The Road to Sanity

So Sulie and I packed up the company car and headed east. Mai was in the back in her carrier. Cats are so intuitive. She knew things were shaky. She just sat in the carrier with her wise face. Thanks to a friend that is married to a physician, I had a full bottle of Xanax 0.5 mg. I was on a strict Q 4 hour regimen. As we crossed the state line into Alabama, I remembered that I had not talked to my boss or asked about moving back to Florida. What about the company car? I mentioned my fear to Sulie. She suggested another Xany. She was driving. That was against fleet rules. It was a safety thing though, right? I couldn't drive on Xanax...

It is hazy, but I think Miss Brown took charge (Miss Brown: wonder twin and co-worker). We reasoned that I covered the Southeast and Florida was part of the territory. I am sure she talked to my boss. Sidebar on the name "Miss Brown". Years ago I was shopping in Ross for affordable fashion. A woman across from me grabbed a gold sequin top and promptly said to her friend, "Miss Brown, can I axe you, where would I wear this if I was to buy it today?" "Miss Brown" became the precursor to any important question.

I don't remember much about the 13 hour drive to Tampa other than drive thru coke and Xanax. One of Sulie's friends owned a condo on St Pete Beach. She generously offered it to me for as long as I needed it. All I had to pay was the cleaning fee. Another one of the many angels that came forward. Every once in a while I would ask Sulie how I was going to afford an apartment in Tampa plus 2 mortgages in the armpit of Louisiana (let me change that--it was now the asshole of Louisiana). Her reply "isn't it time for another Xanax?"

ManGroomer™ Video

This shit KILLS me. Fast Forward to about half way to avoid the annoying intro...

Jay-Z

This is my new favorite song! I had a MRI today and this was blasting in my ears to override the clunking...

The texts that keep on Giving

My sister just called me and told me the texts really bothered her. She said she couldn't imagine how they made me feel. This may sound crazy but...those texts are what keep me from ever looking back. They are so delusional, illiterate and right there in black and white (after I printed them and arranged them in chronological order).

I was so blind-sided when it first happened. I couldn't see how ridiculous it all was. There was good that came out of it. My neighbor Traci that made sure I bathed and ate. Jeanie who formed the Neighbor Whore Watch Committee and stood in her driveway in a nightie and stared the soulmates down as they backed out of the driveway. The moving guys that did a doughnut in the yard (that was John's pride and joy) as they drove away with my things and yelled with a Cajun Accent, "yousa gonna be alright Cheri!" And have I mentioned the ManGroomer™? That shit is funny.

This blog is like a big burning bowl. I write this stuff and I watch it go up in smoke when I hit "Publish Post".

Sister comes to town

Nothing can bring you closer to your sister than a cheating, lying husband. I picked my sister up in New Orleans (hmm...what should I call her? How about Sulie). Sulie was the name she called all her dolls. It was Susan + Julie = Sulie. Well, I had packed up the house and got everything into storage including my Mini. I had said goodbye to the boys. Not sure I can write about that. It was one of the yuckiest times of my life. I had my company car that Sulie and I were going to drive to Tampa. We headed out the camp. The plan was to pack my things out there and then drive to Lafayette and put them in storage. By this time I was pretty much catatonic. We went to eat at the Mexican place we liked. I couldn't finish my margarita so I got a GO CUP! We got back to the illustrious camp and Sulie says, "I hate that daiquiri machine." John had a daiquiri machine like they have in restaurants. I agreed--it epitomized the whole drunken party Louisiana attitude. Sulie and I looked at each other. The unspoken sister speak happened. I grabbed a screwdriver and removed the back panel. Sulie expertly pulled apart wires and tucked them back into place. We plugged it in and pushed buttons. Nothing. We laughed as I screwed the back panel on. Sulie wiped away our fingerprints.

We sat down to drink some wine while looking out at the river. Sulie said, "I want to fuck something else up." I flung the remote to the outdoor T.V. into the river (Please forgive me Mother Earth for littering). Sulie threw every beer or wine opener into the river. We toasted after each keplunck. John had bought me a fancy salt and pepper set at an art show the month before. I found out he had gone with her. I placed the shakers on the bar and went to town with a hammer. We decided to leave the shards of glass. We went to bed. We had a big day ahead of us.