Victor's Secret

I got an email a few days ago that I could not get out of my mind. As I have told you guys before, I get emails from readers that I don't know. Lots of them tell me their stories and they often resemble the horrors of John. I asked if I could post her email. I wanted to do this so readers could see that they are not alone. I know that one of my biggest fears was that I was the only one that was conned by a pathological, cheating liar. There were times I would delete posts because I was afraid to admit that I was with such a creep. The writer said she has asked herself and her friends the question, "Why do smart, well educated women with good jobs make stupid ass man choices?" Girl, hell if I know!

Let's call this writer Jane. If she was a cartoon, she would look like this:

I haven't met Jane ,but I envision her being strong and counting down the days until she completely gets Victor (you'll see why I call him Victor) out of her life.

I need to say "thank you" from the bottom of my trod upon, mangled, desecrated hole riddled heart for your blog.  I found it, and read every piece.  I felt your pain in so many ways, and admire your bravery for putting your thoughts out there for us to see. What you have done is awesome. I am in the process of removing a lying, cheating, conniving, putrid bastard from my life...and people in this situation should be assigned your blog as part of our therapy.  You did more for me than three readings of the book, "Boundaries"  because you have shown me there is light at the end of my tunnel, and you did it with humor and a sarcastic edge which I possess myself and find so underappreciated in the "real world".  In short, I was there as you told your story.  Mine is not so different.  Found a text on my husband's phone from a "friend" -- had only been married a year (2nd time around relationship for he/I as we dated years ago and met up again after both divorced others) so worked on it.  Bought a ridiculously expensive house, moved in with my son (not from this husband) came home from work early one day, hubby supposed to be at work, but sitting around in my new bra and panties, dealt with that, went to some counseling, hubby had some other friends, I went to a meeting at Panera, and saw him cozy in the corner with a much younger woman, and no, I did not toss my Earl Grey on him as much as I wanted to, I merely strolled up to them, and said, "fancy seeing you here" -- and he had the nerve to tell me I should have ignored them as I ruined his potential relationship!! Idiot.  This was 2 days after my birthday and less than a month after my dad died. A few weeks later, found out he was out of town for the weekend with another woman, and on 12/31/2007 went to dinner and gave him a triplicate copy, bulleted list on "what he had to do to fix this" as I had been subjected to his apologies and tears, etc.  So, again...we work on it, he still has girlfriends, he loses his job, I support us, he still wears and ruins my underwear (that really pissed me off....my bra size is hard to find) he has more girlfriends and lo and behold...this past December --- a week before his birthday, and 2 weeks before our 7th anniversary --- I leave my house that I helped design.  He cries, and begs me to come back....we try talking...and 2 weeks after I have left I go there to get my son's soccer cleats, and there is a woman in my house!  Well, I should work for the FBI instead of social services because I tracked her down and all it took was a phone call from me to set her straight.  He told her he was divorced, etc.  She was a young mom with a baby!  She deserved the truth. He gets mad.  Then he asks to work on it, and I say no...I really hate him at this point, the complete lack of respect for me is mind boggling.  Well since January when this happened, he got another young single mom pregnant (April) (she did not have the baby, but he would no
 t deal with her and wanted me to be his go between)  Is dating the lady from our eyeglass place, (May) and I was the original customer! (Got an appt coming up too, might have to drop a few hints)  Picked up a nurse (sorry) at 80s night (Memorial Day)....and is seeing her and she too has been in my house until I scared him on that score.  She used my pots and pans.  NOT good.  I still am on the mortgage he is not paying, as he did not have a job until a few weeks ago. Now, he is your typical stereotype of a computer network administrator -- shorter than most men, kind of nerdy (think astronomy and Star Trek fan) so ow he is getting all these "girl friends" is amazing to me.  We are at a stalemate as I know I will have to pay for the divorce and that irks me.  I have to pay for the divorce and he is the cheater???  Whew...sorry to vent that...but, you helped immensely.  I am finished with him.  But even now he sends pathetic texts....he only did what he felt was right in his h
 eart (your heart says it's okay to prance aound in my clothes and undies and have secret, undisclosed female "friends"??)  and wants to work on this, boo-hoo. He does not understand why I am so "mean" and "cold" and "unforgiving".  I cannot tell you the roller coaster I have been on for the past few years, and tonight, I have been sitting here feeling oh-so-sorry-mad-hateful-sad-for-myself (my boy is on vacation with his dad) and I found your blog, and --- a simple thanks is all I can give.  I will be an avid reader from here on out.   Thanks again.  I needed that tonight.

Cock-a-Doodle

I had a work meeting down in Bonita Springs last weekend. Sulie and niece Jackie came down to stay at the sassy hotel. After the meeting, we went out by the pool. It was the kind of place where a lovely lady brings $8 Mojitos right to you in your lounge chair. Jackie was all over me about men and dating. Questions, questions--why haven't I been going out? Have I given anyone a GreenlightCard? She started to pick out guys and ask me if I would, ya know, do it with them? Okay...

A) This is my niece asking me this (She is 34, but still)

B) Oh my GOD! Have I lost it?

She asked if I had always been shy about guys. I said no--I used to be pretty confident. I got the poolside, Mojito fueled analyzation.

• Was it John? No
• Was it the whole match.com/guys are fucking freaks thing? Nah.
• Trust issues? No, lawd knows I have spent enough time at the shrinkola for that.
• Tired? Maybe.
• Rather just stay home? Yep, getting warmer.

As Jackie dug deeper, she got more animated. She asked me what I was afraid of? I told her I wasn't 25 anymore and I didn't just smile and flirt and get a guy. I told her that I thought once I married John I was done with the whole dating thing. Another round of Mojitos arrived as Jackie pummeled me with questions. She told me she felt like if I really wanted a little "Cock-a-Doodle", that I could get it. I believe I inhaled my sip of Mojito and it ended up in my right lower lung at that point. I had changed her diapers and she is talking to me about cock?

All I could envision was something like this...

Dillhole Part I

I often get emails from folks that read the blog--most of them are strangers. I get some emails with stories that make John look like a saint. I got one last week that has haunted me. I don't feel comfortable sharing the details since it is not my story and I don't know her personally. I had an early morning and I had to drive 3 hours to Naples for work. I kept thinking about the email from the blog reader. This woman really tried to make it work with a man that sounded incapable of a relationship. I've been that woman. As I drove down I-75 to Naples, I thought about all the years I spent in a relationship with a man that treated me like I didn't matter. Last week one of my friends asked me, "why don't you explain who Dillhole is?" (we became friends post Dillhole, so she didn't know the history). When I reflect on my relationship history it's like piecing together a mystery. 

I met Dillhole in Gainesville in 1987. He was a friend of a guy I worked with who eventually became my boyfriend. The first time I met Dillhole we fought. I was at a party at their house (they were also roommates). He was standing by the fireplace. Cute. Drunk. Arrogant. I can't remember the conversation, but I remember calling him a dick. We would cross paths several times over the next few years. He came to Boulder to visit when I lived there with my then boyfriend. We rented a condo and all went skiing. I remember thinking, "he is still a dick." He always had a cold side to him. We moved back to Tampa in 1990 and I went to nursing school. Dillhole also lived in Tampa got married to his college sweetheart. The guys were not a fan. Ironically, she has the same name as me. She came from a wealthy family and had that "way" about her. She was not very interesting and tedious to be around. She was also overweight. It wasn't so much that she was overweight--she had the personality to match the weight. Not very motivated. It was one of those situations that everyone questioned the attraction. After they were married we would get together to do couples things and it was painful. She bored me to tears. I recall her explaining to me at length why she felt she deserved to be able to buy $40 shampoo (this was 20 years ago). Ugh.

Fast forward to 1994. I was no longer with that boyfriend. I had dated the Bald Headed Bastard afterwards (I shall blog about him later). BHB and I had broken up and I saw Dillhole out one night. We sat and talked and had a good time. He was kinda funny and I always thought he was cute. I didn't see a ring and he didn't talk about his wife. We exchanged numbers. He called me a week later and asked me to a movie. I met him. It ended up he was still married. Penelope (recall--same name) lived in Gainesville during the week for work and would come home on the weekends. It was weird. We didn't talk about their relationship. He counseled me on dating and seemed to live vicariously through my stories of going out with my friends and guys. I worked as an ICU nurse and had a great job. I worked two 12 hour shifts on the weekend and got paid for 36 hours. It was great. I went to the beach a lot, read tons of books and hung out with friends.

Remember the night of OJ and the white Ford Bronco cop chase? I had met Dillhole out and we were watching the whole thing on the bar T.V. It got late and he invited me to his place to go swimming. I went. He gave me a t-shirt and boxers to wear. We got into the pool and within minutes it was all over. Penelope don't kiss and tell so that will be the extent of details. Okay, it involved being carried inside and staying up all night. I had to be at work at 0700 and be a nurse. It was ugly. He called me at work around 2 in the afternoon and told me he was physically ill over the whole thing. He said he loved his wife and it would never happen again. I told him I agreed. It was so long ago that I don't recall the exact day of the week,  but he called me early the next week and we started to see each other every day. My life became all about Dillhole. It was bad. Very bad. We would meet in the morning, meet for lunch, meet for drinks, meet for dinner out, make dinner in, we would watch movies together--he became a big part of my life. I am fuzzy on when it happened but the "I love yous" started. My life became secretive. It was like being a junkie. I couldn't tell anyone about him. Only Sulie knew. Later, I told my friend Betty. I had a big circle of friends that thought I was single. His wife would be gone all week and come home on Saturday and head back to Gainesville on Sunday. He started to share with me the issues they had. It eased my guilt. I rationalized that he was good guy that married the wrong person. None of his friends liked her, right?

This started in June and in the following November Dillhole called me and said he wanted to come over. He told me his wife was moving back to Tampa and that he was going to try to make it work with her. I had the calm exterior (I'm a good actress). Inside I was devastated. I remember one night when he was at my apartment. He was in my bed and he said, "I need to make a call." He called his wife in Gainesville to tell her goodnight from my home phone! He actually said, "I love you too" while he was naked and post coital in MY bed. I remember thinking to myself, "what the hell am I doing?"

She moved back and the holidays were upon us. I think I have blocked most of it out, but I vaguely recall staying in bed and watching lots of movies. The guy at Blockbuster knew me and started making recommendations of movies he thought I would like. Sulie and I drove to Asheville for Thanksgiving. I don't remember it, but she recalls me telling her (as we were driving up the Interstate) that I knew things were going to work out with me and Dillhole. I think that is when Sulie gave him the name Dillhole. It was when Beavis and Butthead was popular. Dillhole was not a kind nickname. It stuck...

To be continued...

©

A few of my friends and anonymous blog followers have suggested that I copyright my work. It would suck to see my life on the big screen without me getting credit for it...I would like Sandra Bullock to play me. 

I have started the process. In the meantime...if anyone copies my shit and uses it for their own financial gain let it be known I can and will get ghetto. I will CUT you.

Sincerely,

Penelope

Saying Goodbye to Phoebe

I wrote about Phoebe a few months ago. You can click on the label to get to the post.

Phoebe is now in hospice. 

Her "family" can not fit it into their schedule to fly down here and see her. Family comes in many forms and sometimes it is not the people that you are related to...her good friends AJS and Jenn are her family.

I am without words.

Mick or Keith

I was reading that The Rolling Stones have released a new version of Exile on Main Street with new bonus songs. It made me think about relationships with friends. Some of us are Mick and some are Keith. I've always been the side kick--not the lead singer. I've always been a Keith (except I bathe and I haven't had a heroin habit). Interestingly, that position or role of side kick has been consistent throughout my life and with different friends. In elementary school, my best friend was Angela (she is a blog follower). She was much more outgoing and confident. Kids gravitated to her.  We moved to Gainesville when I was 13 and I had 2 best friends in middle and high school. Ann Reid was the cheerleader, basketball player, track runner and popular girl. I always felt like I was a package deal with her. She would get invited to all the parties and I would go along. Cindy was the find-her-in-the-parking-lot, always-had-a-boyfriend-girl. Everyone knew her (knew her if you get what I'm sayin').

I wonder if you are born a Mick or a Keith? It was so interesting to watch John's boys interact with friends. The oldest was a Keith and one twin was a Mick and the other twin was a Keith. I remember watching the oldest boy approach a popular schoolmate at the mall. It was painful to watch how awkward he was and how the popular kid recoiled. He got more confident as he grew older, but he was never completely comfortable with friends. Conversely, one of the twins was confident out of the womb, while his twin was really shy.

I like being a Keith. Besides, he got to do the Louis Vuitton ad...

The Blueprint of Anger

I've been a bit edgy this weekend. Okay...I have been really pissed off all weekend. Not at anything in particular. I pretty much hate everything. I know "hate" is a strong word. I don't mean hate Hate. I mean a generalized I just want to kick things things kind of hate. I know I'm not the only one in the world that gets this way. My friends tell me they get that way. Maybe haters all flock together and normal, calm people don't get this way. Fuck them. I sure don't like the time I waste on running old crap through my mind. I just got into the cool tub (that would be the hot tub with the heat turned off) and my mind started to wander. See if you can follow this convoluted path of angry feelings...

• Looked at sky. Thought, "it's a nice night. Things are good. Stop being pissy..."
• Thought this is a big hot tub, how many people would fit in here? 
• Wondered what guy  has been in here last?
• The answer was Joe-SOB.
• Thought about one of the times he came over and he said he would stop and pick me up a sandwich at Subway. There is one at the end of my road. He came empty handed. Said he couldn't find it. It made me think of a story I read in Vanity Fair about Tiger Woods buying one of his floozies a sandwich. A Tiger Woods Perkin's waitress gets a sandwich but I don't?  That reminded me of...
• I met SOB in New Mexico. We went to dinner. I fucking flew to New Mexico and he splits the dinner bill with me. In retrospect I realize he was most likely on a budget since he was married and had a baby. UGH. Thought about sending him an email saying Happy father's Day. Note lower case "f".
• Then I got mad at myself for even bothering with SOB. Was I that bored? Or scared? 
• Then I got mad that I was mad. That made me even madder. 
• Then I looked at Daisy sitting on the lounge chair sniffing the air. 

I wasn't mad no more.

Green and Yellow Spinchter

That is what Stephen Colbert said the BP Logo looks like...

I spoke to my ex husband the other day. The first one. The nice one. The English one. He is always great to discuss politics and current events. He reminded me that the majority of the pension plans in the UK are backed by BP stock (and in the U.S. too). I told him I hated to give them money (I never was much of a BP shopper pre oil spill anyway). He reminded me that if we all boycott them and they run out of money that the people will suffer (And ugly ass Tony Hayward will most likely get a big check). My ex had a good point. I will tell you what--I look at that logo and I see red. One of my friends' Father owns small gas stations that carries national brands. She has also commented that boycotting BP will hurt people like her Father. It is really tough. Are all the oil companies cutting corners and BP just happens to be the one that had the big disaster?

I was on a flight to Dallas te other day. I sat next to a guy dripping in turquoise jewelry with long grey hair and some SERIOUS B.O. going on. We started to talk about the oil spill. He told me he was a Hopi Indian and a professor in indigenous cultures. He proceeded to tell em that the way the Hopi believe is that this will be a time of rebirth--not to worry about the oil, the animal life, the contaminated fish...that we were all going to spontaneously combust soon. He talked about civilizations that have spontaneously combusted, never to be seen again. I nodded as I tried not to notice my nose hairs being singed by his B.O. I was able to get back to by book as a lull came up in the conversation. After talking to him I found that every time something came up on the news about the spill, I would just smile and think of going Poof!

As for where I am going to buy gas--I don't know. I'm sticking with Chevron and Shell for now. I see people still filling up at the Green and Yellow Sphincter™. 

Fathers

I don't know if you all notice, but I only capitalize Father or Mother if the person I am writing about honors the role. Yes, when I refer to John as a father he is a father. My Father died when I was 11. He had a heart attack in his sleep. He was 54. Sulie and I were the kids from marriage number 2. My sister from his first marriage is 17 years older than me. Years later, my Mom told us that she recalls the alarm clock going off and my Dad not waking up. He was a doctor and he would get up at 0500. She said, "Rocky?" as she shook him lightly and then as she started to realize he was dead she kept trying to shake him awake. She said she wanted to scream but was afraid of scaring us. My cousin was visiting. It is fuzzy, but I remember being surprised as my brother in law woke us up. I understood his words as he told us that my Dad had died but I didn't really get it. I remember walking like a zombie down the hall to the living room. All my Mom's good friends were there. I saw my niece asleep on the floor in the corner (Jackie on here). She must have been a few months old. I looked at the sofa and saw my Mom crying and smoking a cigarette. It was surreal. I vaguely remember my cousin (she was 12) and Sulie (she was 9) at my side. Our house was built where you could start in the kitchen and walk into the laundry room, then the master bath, down the hall to the living room and back to the kitchen again. I recall Sulie in a nightgown walking that circle saying, "where's Daddy?" over and over again. My parents bed was made. I remember their room looking almost sterile. As the day went on, my cousin thought of ways to distract us. Now she is a Mom of 4 and I smile as I think of her "Mother-Like" ways even then. We rode bikes. We listened to music. My older sister was at UF and she was not home yet. We went into her room (which was a place we usually were not allowed to enter) and played records. I remember playing Benny and the Jets by Elton John over and over. It was on Goodbye Yellow Brick Road. It was one of those albums with the words to the songs inside. I can still see the drawing of "Benny". She had really cool hair... and electric boots (before reading the inside of the album, I used to think "Electric boobs"), a mohair suit, you know I read it in a magaziinnnneee.

My Dad died on June 23rd. The weekend before we had celebrated Father's Day. He loved to cook. I remember that we gave him potholders that looked like owls. A few weeks later I found the owl pot holders in a drawer in the kitchen. I said to my Mom, "Daddy never got to use these." She busted into tears. I felt awful. To this day I can remember how my Mom's shoulders slumped when I said that. I never buy cloth or fabric pot holders with designs. I only have the silicone ones that don't always work. I would rather have burned fingers than something that reminds me of the owl potholders in 1976.

I know lots of Fathers with a capital "F" and some with alternating "F" and "f" and then a very few with just the lower case "f". Happy Father's Day to all...

Targeted Marketing

Why the hell is this ad showing up on my Facebook?:

Now Facebook is mocking me!

p.fucking s. Since when is 50 considered senior?

Taxi Cab Confessions

I made a reference to a cab driver in my last post and I feel the need to do a Penelope Public Service Announcement™related to taxis. Here goes:

• Always call the hotel before you fly and find out the fare from the airport to the hotel. 9 times out of 10 the fuckwad cab driver will try to overcharge you. Some will not run the meter and tell you it's a flat rate that is much higher than the fare would be.
• ALWAYS check that there is a cab number, a radio, a meter and some type of driver identification in clear view. I once got into a cab late at night in Knoxville and didn't realize there was no radio, meter, I.D. until I was in the dark on the interstate wondering if I was going to end up in little pieces scattered over the Blue Ridge Mountains. That is another post for a night when I have more time to type.
• Be strong when they tell you they need cash for gas or give you a sob story that they have to pay a fee for the credit card. I always calmly tell them I am traveling on business and I am required to use my credit card when I enter the cab. I hear one complaint or whine and I move to the next cab.
• Never give them your phone number when they ask for the credit card receipt. I always give an old boyfriend's number...
• If you are getting a cab to or from your home be sure to reference your husband being too busy to drive you. I've had several say, "oh that's a nice house you have--do you live alone?" Mr. Imaginary Penelope comes out for that question.
• Don't take a cab in New Orleans. Get a car service. It is worth the extra money. Those guys in the black suburbans are assholes, thieves and they drive like shit. Chicago is almost as bad.
• In Tampa never use Yellow cab. Use Cab Plus (more $ but worth it) or United.
• Always have your cell phone charged and ready. I just read where a cab driver locked the doors when a woman disputed his charge, She ended up calling the police and he was arrested. I've had drivers hold my credit card and not give it to me as they watched to see what I would write for the tip after we've battled about them wanting cash. Penelope don't play. I told one a few years ago that I would call the police if he didn't hand me back my AMEX.
• If you are in the same town for a few days and you get a good driver...get his or her card and use them the whole time. They usually give you ideas of where to go, cut you deal and you are SAFE!
• If they are driving erratically (San Francisco drivers for example) and you feel unsafe just calmly tell them you would like to get out at an earlier stop. I've found saying, "slow down" or "your driving is making me nervous" usually irritates them. I've done some of my best acting in a cab, "oh, I realize on need to stay in Nob Hill. That corner over there is perfect".
• In the end...if you look at the driver and you don't get a good vibe, ask for another cab. 

Same Time Next Year

Do you ever feel really edgy, pissed off and generally cranky and you can't figure out why? That is exactly the way I've been feeling this week. I went off on a cab driver in Dallas (well, he deserved it. He was trying to screw me and he didn't know he was dealing with the travel queen), I snapped at a co-worker (she is a freak show and annoying, but still...), and I notice my thoughts are not pretty. For example, I was walking through the grocery today with thoughts like: "Move your ass", "get out of my way", and "hurry up".

I was talking to my sister and having the what the hell is wrong with me conversation.  She said, "oh, you're just tired." I was just looking at my work calendar and it dawned on me....my Mom died on June 19th and my Dad died on June 23rd (21 years apart, but still the same week in the same month). Year after year I have this same response to this week. I sometimes prep for it and take off. Other times, I block it out (never works). This year I've been so busy that I didn't notice the date.

The mind never forgets. 

Yet another use for a Ziplock bag

I went to a party today that had a woman reading tarot cards. I had never done that before. I had my palm read on South Beach a few year ago, but never tarot cards. My friend had the tarot card reader set up in a back room. We took terms going back for a 15 minute reading. I walked into the room with a smile. I had no idea what to expect. She asked me what question I had for her. I was unprepared because I didn't know I was supposed to come with a question. I laughed and said, "I bet it's the same question most people ask you--what is going to happen with my love life?" She laughed and had me shuffle the deck. I can't remember the whole order, but there was a main theme. At first she said, "are you in a relationship now?" I said no. She frowned and asked, "did one end recently?" I told her no and that I had been divorced for a couple of years, but the financial part drug out. She said, "Ohhhh...now I see." She commented how busy and productive I am and that I am happy and I have a good life, but no man (thanks...tell me something I don't know). She said she felt a strong theme of frustration around dating. I laughed and gave her the Reader's Digest version of AssClowns and match.com. She transformed before my eyes. She went from Tarot Card Reader to Sister Friend. Her shoulders slumped and her voiced changed. She said, "men are just looking to get laid on match. It is a good thing that you cancelled." Then she went back to Tarot Card Reader. Shoulders back, false eyelashes fluttering, and cards flying. Then she looked directly at me and asked, "is there a man from your past that has come back into your life?" I said no. She said there is one. I told her that there was an on/off/on/off/on/off (I lost count of the ons and offs) guy (that would be Dillhole on here). She said he was coming back into my life and this is a red flag (RED FLAG--her exact quote). She said he was bad news and to stay away. She then told me to put his name on a piece of paper, put it in a ziplock bag and put it in my freezer. She said that would block him! I promised I would do just that. She went on to some new cards. She flipped one that had a crow (I think) and she muttered, "oh no..." I said, "don't say that!" She asked, "are you sure that you no longer have contact with your ex husband? Are there kids you stay in contact with?" I quickly gave her the 2 minute recap of "No. He won't let them talk to me but there is his wacky first wife..." (p.s. I did not update you Dear Readers, that Annie  emailed me twice last week and called me last Friday. She wants to catch up and needs help on a job search. I emailed her back that I was pretty busy. I was all business, but I was a pussy.I had an opportunity to really set limits and I didn't do it. She called me even when I wrote to her that I was unable to talk.) Tarot Lady's eyes got big and she said, "that's it." She said you need to block her. She is trying to keep you connected to this John. Put her name on a piece of paper, put it in a ziplock and freeze it!

So here they are...right next to the Ezekiel bread that tastes like shit. It may be hooey, but I wrote those names down and put them in their own little bags and tossed them in the freezer!

Quick Weight Loss

I figured out a sure fire way to lose weight. Today I was taking the cover off my grill and a palmetto bug ran up my arm. "Palmetto Bug" is a nice Florida term for a FUCKING ROACH! I will tell you what--I haven't wanted to eat since. I opened a box of crackers and I saw him. I went to eat some cereal and I saw him. I'm telling you--the pounds are going to melt off.

What is Courage?

What is the meaning of courage?

Is it to fight a bull in a bullfight?

Is it to fly a fighter plane in combat?

Is it to practice free fall parachuting?

Is it bungee jumping, wild water rafting? 

THIS my friend, is COURAGE!!!

Things I've Learned from Exes

Remember that book years ago--ALL I REALLY NEED TO KNOW I LEARNED IN KINDERGARTEN?  I just reflected on some of the good things I learned from exes. I shall call it GOOD STUFF I LEARNED FROM EXES, BUT IT DOESN'T CANCEL OUT THE ASS CLOWNINESS

• When heating up frozen pizza and you are starving...put pizza on plate and stick in fridge for a minute. Then you don't burn your mouth!
• How to build a simple deck
• How to grill a perfect steak
• How to putt and make it every time
• How to Jitterbug
• How to use an lawn edger
• How to snow ski
• How to jet ski
• How to drive a boat
• How to make kick ass lentil soup
• How to drive a stick shift
• How to eat crawfish
• How to play craps
• How to live on less than 20 bucks/day while traveling 
• How to blow 200 bucks a day while traveling
• How to towel off after a shower without a towel
• How to shut off a water main
• How to hang dry wall
• How to install baseboards
• How to drive in the snow and not wreck
• How to make gumbo

Penelope disclaimer: A couple examples were from the nice exes. They are excluded from the AssClown reference. I also realize a lot of these things would qualify me to be a handy man/woman!

I am not sure what to do with my pissed offness

The lonely convolutes my memories

I was driving home from Orlando tonight listening to music. Do you ever hear the words to a song and you feel like the person has lived your life? The song tonight is Talk by Amy Dalley. It's the only song of hers that I could not find the lyrics online. I just sang it in my head and typed them--I hope I got them right. My favourite line is "Sometimes late at night the lonely convolutes my memories" (or at least that is what I always belt out when I am singing along...) Ain't that the truth--it is easy to forget the AssClownedness when lonely.

Talk

Come on in

It's not a bad time at all

It's been a while, how ya been, you're looking good

I was gonna give you a call

I memorized

All the hurtful things you said

But lately missing you is messing with the way I replay em in my head

So talk, tell me how miserable you were and ramble on

Bout how much I had to learn about men

You know that thing about the life that you deserved

Say that again

It makes me mad

When I'm alone I blame myself

I forget a lot of stuff

So I'll shut up

and let you talk

How bout the trip?

The one where I was such a drag

Where you got drunk and made new friends and laughed at me

come on, bring it all back

So breaking up

kinda bummed me out at first

And you're amazed at just how fast you caught your breath

Now it doesn't even hurt

So talk, tell me how miserable you were and ramble on

Bout how much I had to learn about men

You know that thing about the life that you deserved

Say that again

It makes me mad

When I'm alone I blame myself

I forget a lot of stuff

So I'll shut up

and let you talk

It makes me mad

When I'm alone I blame myself

I forget a lot of stuff

So I'm glad that you stopped by

You're just proving I was right

You were not the one for me

Oh it's in every word you speak

Sometimes late at night the lonely convolutes my memories

So I'll shut up

and let you talk

I'll shut up and let you talk

Here's a link to the video. It has a painful ad in the beginning...


SingingFool.com - Amy Dalley - Talk - Music Video

Happy Birthday to my friend Big Mama Amy D...

http://www.cdbaby.com/cd/amydalley

and itunes

Accessorizing

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The Latte Factor

You all know I DVR Oprah. She had a thing on there about the Debt Diet the other day. One of the guests, David Bach, has come up with a checklist he calls The Latte Factor. It comes from spending lots of money at Starbucks and the like. I am not a coffee drinker, so it is not a place I frequent. He brings up a great point about spending money on things that are a waste. Here's the checklist (double click if not showing in full size):

I'm going to do this checklist. Off the top of my head I know it is going to Target with 1 or 2 things on my list and leaving 200 bucks lighter...but with some cute things I never knew I needed! I also buy food from restaurants. A lot. I am a good cook. I have that f'ed up thing about cooking for myself. I will spend 20 bucks on take out dinner when I could cook something for a 1/4 of that amount. Books are another thing. I probably have (I shit you not), more than 50 hardbacks that I have not read. Oh but that doesn't keep me from buying 5 at a time when I walk into my fave store Inkwood. Note to self...make appointment with shrink. Seriously, this is interesting. Let's all do the checklist...

http://www.oprah.com/money/Debt-Relief-from-Oprahs-Debt-Diet-Action-Plan

Ovaries of Steel™

I can't take credit name--it belongs to my friend Lorraine. She wrote it in reference to remaining composed during wacky times. 

I thought about having ovaries of steel (literally). Wouldn't it be uncomfortable? It would be heavy. It reminds me of when I am taking Pilates and the cue to be in neutral pelvis position is "Tailbone heavy". I will now envision steel balls in place of my ovaries to keep me in the neutral pelvis. 

Til Porn Do Us Part...

I was watching a show that had a wedding scene. They went through the typical vows on the screen. I had a flash back to my first wedding in 1995. My friend's Mom had hired a guy to do a video. I have kept it since it is the only video with my Mom in it. I have it tucked away. I don't think I've watched it since the late 90's. I can still remember the part where I repeat the vow about "forsaking all others". I smile and make a funny face with a raised eyebrow as I repeat the vow. So weird. Are there any times in your life that you can close your eyes and see the scene like it is happening before your eyes at that moment? I can replay that video in my mind's eye. Also my hair, make up and dress ROCKED. And I weighed about 125 lbs...but I digress. I wonder why I was so uncomfortable with that vow. It didn't have to do with me being worried I would cheat. Did I subconsciously think it was inevitable on my husband's part?

I fast forwarded to my marriage to John in 2005. Yes, Marriage #1 when I was 30. Marriage #2 when I was 40. We got married on the beach in Jamaica. I don't remember the vows. I do know that I have rewritten them to meet John's needs:

Do you John AssClown take Penelope Web to be your wife – to live together while all you do is lie – in the estate of why didn't she see the read flags? Will you act like you love her, comfort her when you need her to pay for something, keep her in the dark, in cheating and in lies, for gambling, for drinking, for Adult Friend Finder, for MILF Finder, in bringing other women into your bed, to continually bestow upon her your mind’s deepest sadness, forsaking your children, keep yourself addicted to porn for as long as you shall live?

Can I hear an "I Don't"??

I have gotten lots of emails from women that I don't know personally that read the blog. Some of their stories make my John debacle look like a Saturday cartoon. When I started this back in December, I remember wondering if it would bring up bad feelings and make delay my healing. I say it has helped. I got an email from Annie a couple of days ago with pictures of her new house. I deleted it without opening. I wouldn't have done that without this blog. Several of you in comments and FaceBook helped me see that relationship is not positive. After I just reread this post all I am thinking about is how to get back to my 1995 weight of 125 lbs!

Crime Scene

I was getting off the Gandy bridge coming into Tampa a couple of days ago and there were tons of cop cars. They had roped off an area on the north corner of the bridge with the yellow crime scene tape we all know from CSI, Law & Order and the like. As I was driving past the crime scene, I was thinking of how the bright yellow tape lets us know to stay away. Like a red flag of sorts. Wouldn't it be great if there was some type of visible sign that alerted us, "Do Not Cross" when it comes to potential partners or bed mates?

I see someone has already thought of it...

The Internet is the new "Bar"

JCH made a good point in a comment--

I still stand by what I said about the internet; it's the new bar. The rule is you never marry someone you meet in a bar. Now it's you never get involved with someone you meet on the internet. Yes there are instances where it works, but thats the rarity.

I would never (watch I use the "n" word and next week I'll post about it) date a guy I met in a bar. So why would I date a guy I met on the Internet? Both Spencer and SOB were Internet catches... 

The 40's are the new 30's, brown is the new black, and the Internet is the new bar. Agreed.

snatch.com

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Gifts that keep on annoying

I have one last installment on All that is Annie. It has to do with birthdays and holidays. For years she and John would get gifts for the boys to give the other parent for birthdays, Mother's/Father's Day and Christmas. I am sure that worked when the boys were very young. It did not work so well when they were in their teens and both Annie and John had remarried. I brought it up to John. He said he agreed and he would talk to her about it. I said I thought the boys could do chores and work for extra money to buy gifts. For example, one Mother's Day they wanted to get Annie a gift card from a spa. They wanted it to be 100 bucks. This was before they could drive. I had them washing cars, cleaning the garage and doing yard work. I drove them to the spa and we got the gift card. They worked for it and got to experience the true feeling of gift giving. Annie would continue to buy what she thought John wanted for holidays. It irked me. I told John I felt it was inappropriate especially since they were both remarried. He wrote her an email explaining that they were both remarried, the boys were older and there was no need to continue the practice. She got pissed (he showed me her angry response). I kept quiet (until I got to the shrink's office). My counselor encouraged me and assured me that setting limits was the right thing to do. Recall the Christmas DVDs? Ugh...there were all kinds of gifts-- clothing, music cds, framed pictures of the boys, a cast iron pot (I kid you not--for gumbo, sha!)...the list is long. I look back and I realize how much I felt like a visitor in my own home. One birthday Annie came over with the boys and brought a cake and sat in the kitchen to celebrate. I had a conference call with people from other countries and it had to be at 8 pm to accommodate all the different time zones. I remember sitting in my office with my headset on and I was SMOKING PISSED. The more I think about it the more I realize I could devote a whole separate blog to being a step parent. 

So...the reason I delved into all this All that is Annie stuff is to give background as to why I didn't think her sending me pictures of the twins was totally innocent. I have such mixed emotions about her. I said it before and I will say it again...we bonded through all this shit. I would get shivers when she would tell me stories of seeing him wet his shirt to look like he had been working out or taping his phone calls. She would say, "That Son of a Bitch" in her melodic Baton Rouge accent when I would tell her my stories. He was (is) a true life monster. I don't remember if I blogged this already, but when I spoke to Pao live I told her to save my number. I told her that I promised in a couple of years she would be blindsided by him too. I told her the only person that will understand will be me. I promised her that I would not say "I told you so."