After The Move

This is actually a bit of a misnomer seeing as how we moved a few entries ago. I wanted to differentiate though because this was supposed to be the fresh start. This was supposed to make him happy and all of our troubles were supposed to go away.

These Blasts From the Past don’t seem to be read as much as my other stuff but if you’ve read this far and you’re one of those who normally skip over anything from my past I will tell you that from this point forward most of my musings are much more philosophical. They are more like normal blog entries would be. I examine what it means to move forward after adultery rocks your marriage. I apparently didn’t do a very good job because he cheated on me again.

The other thing I would point out is the irony surrounding everything I wrote back then. It is stunning everything I endured and put up with while trying to right this wreck. 

If you choose to read these next Blasts From the Past you will get to come along on my journey through Hell while my husband slowly spiraled out of control and I kept trying to hold everything together.

August 2014

My one year anti-versary came and went. The house was full of family and I was busy unpacking so I didn’t dwell on it. The whore didn’t contact me. I have to say I’m a bit surprised but she may be too busy wrecking someone else’s life to remember to contact me and let me know what a great love they shared.

My husband is not doing well. His anxiety is terrible. He worries that he has ruined all of our lives. Makes it hard for me to throw a tantrum and cry and tell him how much I hate it here. And I just keep thinking, “You’d better get it together. We moved because you said you were miserable and wanted to be closer to your family. This new town reminded you of your home state. So get with the program. You could have been miserable out in our former state and I would have been perfectly happy. No use in both of us being miserable. Get help!” It’s so frustrating. And I always start to wonder if he’s so anxious because he’s starting to crack under the pressure of carrying on his double life with Harley. I know. I shouldn’t. But I do. I don’t know if that will ever go away. I hope it does.

I’ve been busy buying new furniture. I bought a pie safe. Yeah, I know. What the hell is a pie safe? Whatever it is it was $800! That will go in the dining room. I spent almost $200 on bar stools, $150 on a cabinet for the laundry room, and just over $5000 on new furniture for the family room and formal living room. New sectional, coffee table, end table, sofa table, couch, and chair. And then I turned around and spent $1000 at Target. It was about half new tv and half back to school supplies and clothes, although there was a new trash can and two floor mats in there as well. I got tired of going out for stuff we needed for the house.

Present Day Sam Says: I look back on all of this and I am just amazed at how naive I am in these posts. I’m going out blithely spending money to decorate and furnish our new home. I had no idea that a year later everything would fall completely apart.

Always spackling as well. Poor Cousinfucker isn’t doing well but I can’t let him know my true feelings because it might upset him. Let’s continue to give him the benefit of the doubt. We can’t continue to “punish” the poor dear. He’s so helpless and anxiety ridden.

My Bitch List, Part 1

Talking with my mom and looking back with wide open eyes I am astounded at how much shit I put up with.  Things that were commonplace to me are absurd to casual bystanders. I decided to break this up into a few parts because there is just so much insanity. In his defense we were together 21 years so I’m sure most couples with a 21 year relationship could probably come up with a long list of complaints.

I tried my best to put it into chronological order but it’s not perfect. We may go back in time once or twice. I will warn you that most of the really juicy stuff will come in the later parts. Today’s edition is mainly stupid things I did in my quest to be the perfect wife.

So, take a trip back to the 1990s, pretend you’re watching Seinfeld and that Festivus is a real holiday. Here is my “Airing of Grievances” (and stupid things I did):

• I think this was 2 days before the wedding (not that it matters) but one night I was asking him what he wanted to eat.  He couldn’t decide between smoked sausage or spaghetti (hmmm.… I’m sensing a theme here). Me, being the adoring fiancee, future dutiful wife, I told him no problem- I would make both! And I did. Here’s your spaghetti with a side of smoked sausage! Don’t you just want to puke?
• I remember before we were even married having a fight about sex and making a mental note to myself to never reject his advances because of his tantrum.  How fucked up is that?
• I remember him criticizing me for walking around naked and him accusing me of being a nymphomaniac.  It’s really funny when I look back on it because now he would complain that I have serious body issues (the problems that come from being thin until your mid-20s and then ballooning up to over 200 pounds after 2 pregnancies) and no interest in sex.
• When we were dating and living together (we had a very short relationship before marriage) the man did more cleaning than I did.  He put away laundry.  He did laundry!  He would wash dishes.  He was amazing.  He even cooked.  He had show towels!  Once we got married he couldn’t put a frozen pizza in the oven.  Seriously.  He would ask me to make him a pizza.  And I did it!  Hell, I cut it up and put it on a plate for him and then served it to him.
• Going solidly down the stupid path:  I remember one day when I was going to work overtime I got the house clean, made him his favorite casserole, and made Rice Krispie Treats before leaving for work so that he would have dinner to come home to.  Did I mention I was working 12 hours that day?  I was so proud of myself and what a good little wife I was.  Puke!
• More stupidity:  We both worked second shift when we were first married so we got home a little after 11, most nights.  He was installing a ceiling fan, I think, and I asked him if he was hungry.  No, he tells me.  I lay down on the couch while he’s working and I start to fall asleep.  Just as I’m ready to pick my weary body up and head upstairs he tells me, “I’ll take that dinner now.”  Instead of telling him what I should have told him, which was, “Too late.  I’m going to bed!” I made him pork chops, potatoes, and a vegetable.  At 1:00 in the fucking morning. I am an awesome wife no matter what he says!
• I don’t know if I should be more astounded at him asking me, while I was at work, what there was to eat at home, or by the fact that I actually knew and could tell him
• I won’t classify this as something stupid I did or something shitty he did.  It simply made me think.  I could tell you dozens of stories about him and his high school and college days.  He never really wanted to know about mine.  He said in the beginning it was because it probably included guys that I slept with and he didn’t want to hear about that.  I seriously doubt he knows I won Best Actress in high school.  I don’t think he knows I dropped out of college my last semester and went back a few months later.  He has no idea the kind of things that my friends and I did back in my high school or during my college days.  But I heard nonstop about his- his full ride scholarship for pre-med, him being drafted by a professional baseball team, football and baseball team captain, class President and valedictorian.  Stories of him and his friends at East Dull.  I never even thought about it until recently.  And the funny part is for people who know us I’m sure they would say I am the gregarious one, while he is quiet and remote.  Yet, he always managed to take center stage in our marriage/lives.
• This probably doesn’t really belong on the list but hey, it’s my list!  Early on in our marriage, like in year 2, a bat got into the house we were renting.  I was the one that finally got the damn thing out of the house.  He was a chicken shit.  As my best friend said, “Wow, it’s at times like that that I could really use a husband.  Or, I guess a wife.”
• I almost stepped on a snake in our garage years later; I HATE snakes! Turns out I was married to one!  I call him up at work, freaking out.  His reply?  “It’s not poisonous.”  Really, Motherfucker?  How long have we been married and you think my concern is that the damn thing might be poisonous? Of course he wouldn’t offer to come home or even offer up a little bit of sympathy! Oh no! He had a very important job and was a very important person.

Oh, Tammy Faye…

I found out this morning that Pastor Fake tagged my daughter in her father’s pathetic Thanksgiving message post. She in turn showed her brother. Neither were impressed. Neither replied. I have to admit sometimes I wish one of them would.

Then I find out that good ol’ Tammy Faye wrote her own Thanksgiving missive. She misses her and she wishes she could see them.

Oh, Tammy Faye, you chose your son and the whore and her kids months ago. Nay, over a year ago! You encouraged that dick sucking slut to call him in the hopes of rekindling their affair. You blew your grandchildren’s lives apart. And now you’re bemoaning the fact that you don’t see them? You are such a stupid bitch.

Did it never occur to you that you saw your grandchildren because I went the extra mile in making sure you saw them? Did you forget all the times I drove cross country to bring them to you while your son stayed at home? Or the times I would drive another 6 hours after driving to my own mother’s house because you couldn’t be bothered to meet halfway or come on up to see them? Your son chose the whore over you seeing your grandkids last summer when he refused to take either of them with him when he went to his cousin’s funeral. Your son can’t be bothered to come pick them up and take them to see you. Frankly, neither of them want anything to do with him or with you or anyone in your fucked up family. You are all liars. You are the reason people turn away from Christianity. You clutch your pearls at the thought of a woman having an abortion or someone saying, “Fuck!”, or people drinking but you have no problem with either of your kids cheating on their spouses. In fact, you welcome the interlopers with open arms. In my case you never stopped communicating with her even when he supposedly wanted his wife and kids. Pastor Fake liked the whore’s FB status where she bemoaned missing her married lover in her bed. Hey, what would Jesus do?

Do you honestly think I’m going to drive down and bring the kids to you? Look you crazy bitch, you used up every favor when you stuck your nose in my life and helped destroy it. If you want to see your grandkids your son needs to step up his game and come get them. Of course, in order for them to agree to get in the car they would have to talk to him and that would require effort on his part which won’t ever happen. It would also be very difficult for him to keep the whore and her kids away from them seeing as how he lives with the cunt. I’m not really sure how you think your holiday with them would go seeing as how they both refuse to be around Harley the Whore or her kids; I have a feeling you would be crying even harder if she and her kids weren’t sitting around your dinner table as well. And the reality is neither of those kids believe a single word that you, Pastor Fake, Jezebel, or their father has to say. You’ve all burned that bridge with your own actions. Stop playing the damn victim. Own your behavior. And for the love of God please stop publicly declaring your fake love all over Facebook! There’s going to come a day when Cousinfucker and I are divorced and I will no longer have to watch my Ps and Qs. When that day comes I’m going to unleash on your ass and tell you exactly what I think of you and your pathetic declarations. I know you prefer to carry your Bible as opposed to actually reading it but even Jesus finally got fed up and let his righteous anger fly.

For. The. Love!

Pardon me while I rant a bit. I apologize in advance to any of my male readers because I’m not going to do my usual man/woman, he/she, husband/wife stuff that I normally do. Why? Because the comments I’m seeing are from men, husbands. I have yet to read a blog by a woman who laments that her husband has not made her his entire focus. Gets a little pissed when he’s out drinking at all hours, every night during the week, with buddies? Upset when he spends every weekend doing one of his hobbies instead of spending anytime with her and the kids? Sure. But upset that he talks to his parents or doesn’t spend every waking hour glued to her side? No. I will concede that there are probably women out there like that. Tracie Andrews comes to mind. But I haven’t read any of their blogs so today it’s all about those men who whine and whine because their wives have friends, family, work, kids, and other things to do.

What the hell is up with this? In the recent days I’ve seen men lament the fact that their wives aren’t devoting 100% of their attention to them. I’m hearing, “I have needs,” and “I wish we could just have sex every day and she would ignore everyone around else and focus on me, Me, ME!” There is, of course, the obligatory, “My wife pours all of her attention into our kids.” Hey- here’s an idea. Maybe if these whining men would actually help out with the kids the wife could devote more time to them!

There was even lamentation that the wife had a family that she liked to talk to! She had friends she did things with! That bitch! Sometimes the wife even has ill or dying parents, sometimes it’s the husband’s parents that are ill and she’s still the one taking care of them while he complains that these dying people are taking attention away from him. Doesn’t she realize she has a husband and she should drown out the sounds of everyone and everything to attend to his every whim whenever and wherever he needs?

Hey, men! She’s your wife; not your girlfriend. I thought I covered it pretty thoroughly in my post with the same name. If you want someone devoted to you and your every need don’t get married. Continue to date endlessly and only see each other 3-4 times a week. It will keep the spark alive and she’ll be able to focus solely on you whenever the two of you are together!

I’m sure I come across jaded but I prefer to think of it as reality. One more time for those still complaining… Your relationship is going to change. It is inevitable. When you first meet someone it’s all fireworks and chemistry and passion. That doesn’t last. It never lasts. Even in great relationships reality begins to intrude. You have kids. You need to pay bills. You get a pet or two. You’re running kids around. In some cases you have children who end up needing more of your time and energy because of mental health issues, addiction, health problems, etc. Parents get older and need more help. People go back to school. People change jobs. You move. You have bad jobs, sucky bosses, family members die.

Putting all that aside there is a difference between dating and marriage. When you’re dating you are putting your best face forward. You laugh at the corny jokes. The bad habits don’t annoy you, yes because you’re madly in love so it’s no big deal, but mainly because those bad habits are new and you think you can put up with them. Ten, fifteen, twenty years later you might not be so understanding. You don’t see each other every day so every encounter is new and exciting. All her attention is focused on YOU because everything is NEW! She dresses up, she does her hair and make-up, she shaves her legs. Again, because every encounter is an event. It’s not everyday life.

And sex? No matter how fantastic it may continue to be, years with the same person is not going to be as exciting as that first time. No matter how great the sex may be it’s still not sex with a different person.

I think what bugs me the most is all this neediness. These men are demanding attention like little toddlers. I still remember the day I spent upstairs in the bedroom with CF. We did nothing except watch TV and he was probably laying all over me. He began crying and then told me that this was the best day of his life because I had spent the entire day glued to his side. I don’t have that kind of time and energy. It was mentally exhausting. It all harks back to, “Make me happy!” Dude, I’m not responsible for your happiness. You control that. So please, for the love of all that’s holy, grow the fuck up!

Being married brings with it adult situations. It’s not all fun and games. It’s too bad they don’t discuss that in school. It’s not one long date. You live together. You see each other in the morning before hair and make-up is done and when you have morning breath. You see each other when one of you is puking in the toilet or when one of you has gas or cramps. You see each other when you’re in a bad mood, or you’re sad, or you’re pissed. It’s years and years of living together, seeing each other at your worst, going through tough situations, supporting each other. It’s celebrating milestones together, buying and selling homes together, moving, consoling each other at the deaths of your parents, raising children and pets, discussing bills and taxes, negotiating all of life’s daily time sucks. The hot monkey sex, if you’re lucky enough to have that? That’s a part of the marriage. It’s not the entire marriage. Being your wife’s sole focus? That’s a fantasy. If you really want someone like that you’re going to end up with someone like Tracie Andrews! She’s not a balanced person. I can’t imagine the pressure of being everything to someone. Having friends, interacting with family, getting out into the community, having hobbies are all good things! If you’re much past the age of 5 and you’re still demanding someone focus on you 100% whenever you’re around you’re pretty much an entitled narcissist. Again, grow the fuck up!

My Own Facebook Post

OK, I’m not really going to make my own Facebook post to combat Asshat’s but I do want to reflect upon what I’m grateful for.

Unlike Cousinfucker I don’t have to reach out to my kids through Facebook (even though my daughter has him blocked and our son doesn’t even have a FB page). I see them every day. I tell them every day I love them and to have a good day. Unlike him I know that they hear me when I say those things because I get an, “I love you,” right back.

On Wednesday before Turkey Day my daughter took me out for breakfast. Her treat. And she was the one who asked me if I wanted to go. We ended up having the best time. She just talked and talked and told funny stories. She had me laughing constantly. I’ve missed that. I feel like I’m missing out on so much of their lives, especially with this crazy schedule I’ve had lately. Going in at 1:30 in the morning I’m going to bed around 6. I get 2 or 3 hours tops with my kids. But on Wednesday Rock Star and I ate breakfast, went shopping, and talked and laughed.

I took Picasso to get his hunter’s license on Thanksgiving so his uncle could take him out. We had a good conversation, too. He got a little frightened with my driving for some reason, apparently thinking I can’t judge distances too well, but I assured him that if anyone died in the crash it would be me. He told me he didn’t want me to die and when I told him he didn’t need to worry about having to go live with his dad he told me he didn’t want me to die because he loved me. Contrast that with his declaration that his dad is dead to him. While he thinks he’s too big to sit on my lap anymore (okay, he is about 5’10 and weighs a good 220 but he’s still my baby and my lap is always open) he is always leaning in to kiss me and tell me he loves me.

In other news as expected Cousinfucker is getting plenty of sympathy on his Thanksgiving Facebook post. Someone (I believe I refer to her as Daniella later on) that he used to work with told him not to give up on them, just to keep letting them know how much he loves them. Eventually they will come around and be able to make their own decisions.

That’s adorable. I’d love to throw caution to the wind and reply on his page: Your sympathy is admirable but save it for someone who really needs it, like his kids. This is the first time he’s mentioned his kids since June. He walked out the door in February and hasn’t set eyes on them since. To be clear, it isn’t because they’ve told him not to come see them. He hasn’t even bothered to ask. This FB post is as far as he’s going to go to reach out to his kids. He doesn’t call; he doesn’t text. Aside from their birthday cards they haven’t heard a peep out of him since June. He lived with his kids for six months after they got the news we were divorcing because of his affair and he didn’t bother with talking to them, reaching out to them, or offering to take them anyplace during that time either. He hasn’t sent child support since May. He forced them to move out of their home and transfer schools. He couldn’t pay for his own daughter’s $80 Homecoming dress but he could spend over $300 on a dress for his whore’s daughter. He didn’t have the money to pay his half of the household bills (or to pay for the damn dress for his daughter) but he had over $4k to spend on an engagement ring for his mistress. In that same month she was able to spend over $400 on sports equipment for her kids, another $167 at Vera Bradley, over $400 on utility bills, and hundreds on eye care- all out of the joint checking account they opened while he was still married (and before his wife even know he was having yet another affair with her) and taking from his own children to support her and hers. He couldn’t be bothered to be engaged with his own kids while he plays Daddy of the Year to four kids who already have a father. His kids have nothing to do with him not because of their evil mother’s influence but because he’s a selfish, entitled asshole who chose a whore and her four kids over his own. He’s never offered a heartfelt apology to either of them. He never bothered to reach out and check on them after finding out we were forced to move out of the state. Never asked a single question about how they were adjusting, how they liked their new schools, how it was living where they were living. Certainly never apologized for forcing his daughter to transfer schools right before her junior year.

Here- let me sum this up in a much more concise statement:  Outside of Facebook he never gives them another thought. Facebook is nice and public so everyone can see his grand declarations. It’s no fun texting or calling your kids; no one can see that! He posted that drivel so everyone could see his very public gesture and in turn would feel sorry for him. You all fell for it, suckers!

You know what, readers? In the end, no matter what kind of bullshit he pulls, no matter how bad off financially I am, I have won. My kids love me; they value me. He has no idea what kinds of things they like, who their friends are, what they want to do with their lives. He doesn’t get to talk to them, joke around with them, eat dinner with them, drive them around. He has no idea who they are as people. He will never watch our kids graduate from high school. Neither of them want him there. Hell, he doesn’t even know which schools they attend. He will never watch Picasso at an orchestra concert or watch Rock Star cheering. If our son ends up playing football he won’t be around to give him tips, coach him from home, or watch him play. He won’t know if or where our kids end up going to college or what they choose to do for a career. He will not be the one to walk our daughter down the aisle should she ever marry; he won’t even be invited to the wedding. He won’t be around for our son’s wedding either should he ever marry. If grandchildren are a part of the future he will never know them. He won’t even know they exist.

The sad part is I’m sure he would say the whore is worth it. She has to be now that he’s lost everything. I don’t really care whether he thinks she’s worth it or not. I know I’ve got the better deal. For that I’m grateful.

Spitting Nails, Part 2

This could also be entitled, “The Perils of Facebook” or “Why No Contact Is Awesome”. Honestly, I do so much better when I know absolutely nothing about what he’s doing. To be clear, I don’t seek this out. I’d also like to point out that seeing as how he’s claiming PTSD and all sorts of mental problems it’s not in my best interest to hide my head in the sand. You would be amazed at how many people end up getting tripped up by Facebook. Nonetheless, he infuriates me with his bullshit and his total oblivion to all the destruction he has caused.

I told you all that Cousinfucker has his new profile picture up. It’s a picture of him and Harley the Whore. Apparently, he has chosen to make his page public so my mom (and my lawyer) can read his page. I’ve been told he’s getting many comments about how happy he looks, how they’re so happy for him, how happiness looks good on him. Puke. Nothing like being told I made him miserable. Gosh, looks like not only is Harley a whore she’s also a happiness fairy! Good to know, Cousinfucker; good to know.

Then I’m told the whole reason Cousinfucker was posing with the whore’s youngest son was because he went to school with him for show and tell! Yes, instead of lamenting the fact that his own children didn’t write him gushing letters of appreciation for his service he chose to go to show and tell on Veteran’s Day with a fucking kid that doesn’t belong to him. That child HAS a father. I couldn’t get him to regularly attend parent-teacher conferences with me. His own son couldn’t get him to drop him off at school because the carpool lane freaked him out. He threw a royal fit when he had to go grab a dollar gift for his daughter’s school Christmas party. But he can certainly rise to the occasion for the whore’s kid. Nice.

Finally, a friend of his sent me a message today. This is the guy that I talk to as well and have for several years. He did say he figured Cousinfucker was having a public pity party on Facebook but he felt duty-bound to pass along the message. He told me he wasn’t going to let CF know he had passed it along but he felt I should have it.

Keep in mind this message is written with good ol’ dad posing with the whore that he left his family for.

I want to wish my children a Happy Thanksgiving. It is doubtful that they will see this, but I wanted to express it anyway. I love you both immensely and miss you terribly. I hope you have a great Thanksgiving and always know that I love you like crazy. Nothing in the world can change the love I have for you.

What a load of shit! It starts out okay, I suppose.

I want to wish my children a Happy Thanksgiving.

It quickly veers into pity with that second sentence.

It is doubtful that they will see this, but I wanted to express it anyway.

Hey, why do you think they won’t see your wonderful sentiments, Cousinfucker? Could it be because you walked out of their lives without a backward glance? Could it be because you chose a whore and her four kids over your own flesh and blood? Could it possibly be because instead of wishing them a Happy Thanksgiving by sending them a card or calling them or even sending a text, you chose to post it publicly on Facebook?

That’s such a curious way to wish your children a Happy Thanksgiving and let them know how much you love and miss them. I don’t suppose you did that to garner pity, did you? Did you take that page right out of your mother’s book? She can’t interact with her grandkids unless it’s on a public stage. I see you’ve picked up that trick as well. Don’t bother to call. Don’t bother to text. Just post a bunch of self-pitying bullshit on Facebook so everyone can see how much you love and miss them. Bonus points- you may be able to convince people the entire reason you don’t have contact with them isn’t because of anything you may or may not have done but because I’m such a horrible bitch.

I love you both immensely and miss you terribly. I hope you have a great Thanksgiving and always know that I love you like crazy. Nothing in the world can change the love I have for you.

I appreciate the sentiment but I think we both know that a father who truly loves and misses his kids wouldn’t even dream of doing the things to them that you have. He wouldn’t drag them away from their friends and everything they love, dash their dreams, make them start all over, and then once they begin to rebuild their lives start cheating on their mother, forcing a divorce and yet more upheaval. He wouldn’t move out of the goddamn state he drug them to less than two years later, and he sure as shit wouldn’t move out without saying a fucking word to either of them. He wouldn’t force them to move out of their home, out of the state. He wouldn’t cost his daughter her driver’s license. He wouldn’t take away her great new life so he could get his dick sucked. He wouldn’t refuse to support them or be fine with them living in poverty. He wouldn’t play these stupid games with their mother because he would do the right thing. He wouldn’t let months go by without contacting them. You know what else he wouldn’t do? He wouldn’t post his fucking message on Facebook. He’d pick up a goddamn phone and actually talk to his fucking kids. If they don’t pick up leave a message! It’s a thing.

All that crap you just wrote? It’s all image management and self-pity. I’m just a poor man who loves his children unconditionally no matter how much they might reject me. Please Facebook friends, tell me how wonderful and noble I am. Tell me how my children will see the light one day. Tell me my mean, nasty wife won’t get away with turning them against me. Tell me what a wonderful father I am and how my kids are so lucky to have me.

So… I was just going to ignore this friend. Let’s call him Bob. I was just going to ignore Bob and all this bullshit but I was already in a shitty mood because of the court hearing and Cousinfucker’s request to modify his support. Quite honestly I’m tired of taking it on the chin and I’m tired of everyone acting like what he’s done is no big deal. I’m tired of his pity plays. Instead of ignoring it this time I replied.

I’m sure the four children he lives with appreciate the sentiment. I hope they see it and thank him appropriately although I’m not sure why he needs to post it on Facebook seeing as how he lives with them and sees them everyday.

Snarky? Yes. Did it feel good? You betcha!

Spitting Nails, Part 1

You get a bonus entry today because I am so mad I could spit nails.

My attorney appeared in court today to get a show-cause hearing. As expected Cousinfucker simultaneously filed for a modification of his support. It gets better. He’s now claiming that because of his mental health and substance abuse issues he won’t be able to earn anywhere near his previous salary. He is putting his income range around $30,000. Wow- that’s what he was making when I met him more than 22 years ago. It gets even better. Not only are they filing for a modification of support they want it retroactive to the day in June that he notified me he lost his job. Because apparently when you don’t have a job you don’t have any bills to pay and your children no longer have any needs or wants.

I just asked my attorney a few days ago if a judge would vacate his arrears and she told me that he would still owe that. I asked again after reading his lawyer’s filing and I haven’t yet heard back. It may very well turn out that I’m going to have to wait until February to see if he will get away with yet another shitty act. If Cousinfucker wanted a modification he should have filed for that months ago. He’s a lazy sonofabitch who figured I would go away and let him fuck his whore in peace. Does the fact that he’s had FIVE MONTHS to file a modification mean nothing?

On top of that his attorney is trying to make him look like a saint by claiming all of his gross annual income for Dream Job #1 and then claiming a pay cut for Dream Job #2 while he continued to pay the agreed upon court orders. Um… first of all, she overestimated his pay by about $20,000. Second of all, he was paying support based upon his monthly income only. He argued vehemently against having any of his bonus, stocks, or dividend checks included. He even argued that the bonus was already spent and that he wasn’t assured of that amount every year (another lie). He actually ended up paying less than what he would have been ordered to pay if we had included all of his salary. Third of all, he didn’t take a pay cut when he moved; he actually got a slight monthly pay increase where his base salary was concerned. It wasn’t much but then again he wasn’t moving for the money; he was moving for the whore. Fourth? It’s not my damn fault he quit his job and moved. Those are called consequences, Cousinfucker!

Naturally they are using his veteran status and claiming he has severe depression, anxiety, panic attacks, and PTSD. Funny how most of that didn’t manifest itself until he started fucking a whore and found out it wasn’t so cheap to get rid of the wife.

My attorney is not very hopeful. She thinks he’s going to have a tough time finding another job in his pay range. The jobs that pay what he’s used to won’t want to take a chance on him and the jobs that aren’t as demanding will say he’s overqualified. So, I don’t know if she thinks he’s going to get away with everything (which is what I’m fully expecting), or if she thinks it doesn’t matter what a judge rules because he’ll never be able to pay me what he owes.

She did suggest to his attorney that perhaps he ought to go back to his former place of employment to see if he was eligible for a re-hire, letting them know he had an emergency medical issue which has been taken care of. That’s hysterical. He doesn’t want to have to commute 2 hours each way. He sure as hell doesn’t want to have to go back to the company he called home for 15 years because that’s 6 hours away from the whore. He could get a job in Manufacturing Services but that would require weekly travel and I’m sure he’d prefer to get his nightly blow job over supporting his children. He’s such a piece of shit.

Twenty years of marriage and nineteen years of me following that sonofabitch all over the country and I’m going to be left with nothing.

Part 2 of my, “I’m So Mad I Could Spit Nail,” coming later tonight. Probably. I’ve been up since 12:45 am so I’m getting a bit tired.

Our Last Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is a bittersweet time for me this year. I feel like last year I did fine. Maybe I was on autopilot.

Thanksgiving was our last good holiday together as a family. Come to think of it, it was probably the last happy time we really had before his big downward spiral, courtesy of Blockhead and his helpful information to CF.

I thought we had a good Christmas but then I read his text message to Jezebel on the 26th and discovered he was deeply unhappy. Here I am posing for family pictures with all of us in matching pajamas, we’re all smiles and he’s thinking about how unhappy he is and how he never should have tried to be happy. Told his sister he was heavily medicated. I would later find out that Blockhead had already started feeding him information before our anniversary because he was the one to tell him that I didn’t like my anniversary gift. I suppose that even while we were opening gifts with just the four of us, him buying me my laptop and clothes and lingerie that he was plotting his revenge and wasn’t really happy.

Thanksgiving of 2014 though was a great time. We had just moved into our new house. I had bought new furniture, unpacked all the boxes, and had decorated for the holidays. I had actual Thanksgiving decorations up. My mom, brother, sister-in-law, nephew, and 2 nieces all came down to celebrate the holiday at our new house. My daughter’s best friend from out west had already flown out to spend the holiday with us. We had a full house. All beds were filled and we even had two blow up beds. I cooked. My mom and sister-in-law helped. I made extra mashed potatoes because they were Rock Star’s best friend’s favorite. CF decided to try grilling the turkey for a change of pace. There was tons of food. We ate, played Phase 10, indulged in yummy desserts- pumpkin pies, a chocolate dessert for my sister-in-law, Scotcheroos. CF was in great spirits. He was very sociable and outgoing; he woke the girls up with a turkey neck down his pants. He was in great spirits. I had everyone fill out slips of paper listing the three things that they would remember the most.

All the females forced me into going Black Friday shopping and that turned out to be a favorite memory for most of them. I got 2 great pairs of boots that night.

Yes, Thanksgiving 2014 was the last happy memory we have as a family. It might possibly be my last happy memory, period. Everything pretty much fell to shit after this day two years ago. I lost my house, my income, my husband. I had to move out of state. I had to pull my kids out of their schools. I disrupted their lives once again. They are slowly adjusting to this new life. They will be okay. They’re young and have their whole lives ahead of them. They have hope and can spread their wings and get out of this hell hole.

I hate it. I don’t think I’ll ever have another happy day. I’m old. I’ve wasted my life. I’m going to spend the rest of my life working menial jobs for sub par wages, struggling to make ends meet and knowing I can’t take care of my kids.

It is definitely a bittersweet holiday. I can stay stuck in the past and remember how great, or at least how comfortable, my life was, or I can “focus on the future” and try to make the best of this shitty, shitty hand I was dealt. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

 

My Ideal Man, Part 2

Have you been waiting on pins and needles? Here it is. My list for the ideal man.

1.  Absolutely no cheaters. Like I said before if he cheated before that is a deal breaker. I don’t care if she beat you, if she chained you to the bedroom closet, if she never cleaned the house, if she refused to have sex, if she made fun of your penis size, if she baked you a shit pie. Divorce her by all means. She sounds hideous! But don’t cheat.
2. No smokers. I hate the habit and I just can’t do it. Yes, I realize it is not an indicator of whether or not a person will cheat. I still don’t want to be with a person who smokes.
3. Another biggie- I would have to find someone who was willing to date exclusively but who didn’t need to get married or live together. That is huge actually. It’s not even about spousal support anymore. I don’t ever want to be put in the position where I have something thanks to another person.
4. I would like a man who pulled me out of my shell a bit. Someone who, if I’m hesitant to try something or go someplace, would say, “Hey, it sounds like fun. Let’s do this!”  It would be nice to have someone who supported me when I was freaking out and could calm me down instead of heading into the crazy himself. I remember all the times I had gymnastics meets at unfamiliar gyms and I had to go in by myself. I always thought it would be so nice to have someone to navigate that with, someone to sit with, someone to talk to in between Rock Star and her teammates being up.
5. I would want someone who is happy and upbeat and very little drama. I’m tired of miserable and sobbing and everything being the biggest deal on the planet. I can be very supportive when my hypothetical boyfriend is going through tough times but when it’s always tough times, or he doesn’t reciprocate, I draw the line. Also, I’m done trying to make someone happy. Fuck that! I learned the hard way that another person’s happiness is not my responsibility. There are some people who will never be happy no matter what you’re willing to do and I don’t ever want to be with one of those people again. I’m not talking about doing nice things like baking his favorite dessert or surprising him with something special. I’m talking being responsible for his happiness at the very core of his being. Cousinfucker was never happy and nothing I did was ever enough.
6. I would want someone who has my back! That’s a big one after everything I’ve been through with Cousinfucker and his family. Don’t throw me under the damn bus and then act like you don’t know why I’m upset. Don’t throw me under the bus at all! Stick up for me! Don’t talk badly about me and don’t let others talk badly about me in your presence.
7. I still prefer a guy who can make me laugh.
8. I would want someone who is family oriented. If a guy has abandoned his own kids then he has no business playing family with mine. I would like a person who enjoys spending time with us, all of us. It goes without saying if he’s cruel or unkind to my kids we’re done.
9. It would be nice to be with a guy who gave a little effort. Maybe plan a surprise birthday party for me, buy me something sweet that I’m not expecting (doesn’t have to be expensive- I love polar bears and pajamas and chocolate dipped strawberries!) or do something romantic on our anniversary (dating anniversary, of course, not wedding). I don’t need this all the time but occasionally would be nice.
10. I would want someone who enjoyed spending time with me and who liked to go out occasionally. It would be nice to go to plays or movies, to a sporting event, out to dinner, anything really. Hell, I would be happy with a damn walk along the river!
11. It would be nice to date someone who was there for me. Someone who would go to my class reunions, weddings, funerals, big life events, instead of always declining and making me go on my own. The running joke in my family was, “Yes, I swear, I really am married!” Actually, it wouldn’t just be nice, it would absolutely be another requirement. Why date this person if I have to do all that crap alone?
12. How does he handle confrontation and communication? I think this is also huge because I don’t think Cousinfucker and I did this well. I will admit that I didn’t speak up, mainly because he always had such a bad reaction to any bad news or anything that wasn’t blowing sunshine up his ass. He liked to be adored and told he was doing everything wonderfully. So, being able to communicate effectively would be important.
13. It is definitely important that my fictitious boyfriend likes animals. I have 3 dogs. I’m a huge animal lover. Honestly, I think the most romantic gesture a man could perform for me would be to buy me a dog. Seriously, I think I would prefer that over almost anything, including expensive jewelry or fancy romantic getaways. I read that in a book one time and my heart melted. In that instance she had 4 dogs already, I think. Her boyfriend saw a stray and fed him, and then brought him home with him because he knew she would never forgive him if he just left the dog there on the street. When he brought the dog home she was amazed. “No one has ever brought me a dog before. My ex-husband always made fun of me for having so many.” I know my mother is reading this and thinking, “No way in hell!” So, while it would be a wildly romantic gesture for me, I can’t have another dog any time soon.
14. Obviously I want someone who is going to be kind and honest. I don’t want anyone who thinks he’s better than others or who talks down to people who are in a position to wait on him. I don’t want someone who lies.
15. This isn’t so much a requirement as it is a window into his way of thinking. I would carefully look at how he interacts with people in his life- his parents, siblings, co-workers, bosses, exs if he has them (and let’s face it, at this age I’m sure he does), friends. I think you can gain a lot of insight by doing that. Does he treat his mother well? On the other end is he a complete Mama’s Boy that will never have any boundaries and never stand up for me? Does he think all of his bosses are idiots? Treat his co-workers well? What are his friends like? If they’re a bunch of cheaters and liars that probably is not going to bode well for our relationship. What does he have to say about his ex and how is their relationship? Look at me, living in a glass house and throwing stones! Yeah, my ex is a lying cheating asshole and we have no relationship.
16. This one is a little shallow but I’m going to add it anyway. If I ever do date again I want to have great sex again. I know that sex isn’t everything but when it’s not good sex it becomes a really big deal.
17. I would like to be with someone who is not afraid to hold my hand in public or put his arm around me. I rarely got that with CF. I’m a physically affectionate person. I want to be with someone else who is physically affectionate. I don’t have to be making out in public but I also don’t want to feel like you’re embarrassed to be seen with me.

Currently, that’s my list. I may revise it one day. I think it’s pretty comprehensive. I didn’t mention money issues but that’s mainly because I won’t ever have to deal with that. If I’m not willing to marry him, or even live with him, I’m fairly certain a joint bank account is out. Everything else is fairly negotiable. I would put it in the category of a wish list. It would be nice to have but it’s not a deal breaker. Those things I listed above? Are. Except for #9. That would be very nice and I would appreciate it, but if everything else was there I could live without it. #17 is on the edge of wish list/requirement. As I said above, I don’t need to be full on hanging all over each other, but I also don’t want someone who refuses to ever so much as hold my hand.

What’s the point of this post? I don’t know. It’s a moot point for me because I won’t be dating again; I’m at the point in my life where I figure anyone who would be interested in me would be some sort of predator. By that I mean someone who can see I’m at a vulnerable point in my life- single mom, cheating ex, struggling financially- and swoop in with the love bombing, followed by the discard and victim morphing. Someone who might think I’m easy prey and that I’m so desperate for a partner I’d be willing to put up with just about anything. Gosh, I’d almost like to encounter someone like that just so I show him how incredibly wrong he is. <insert evil laugh>

I suppose I’d like to think that if I ever changed my mind and thought better of my prospects I would choose a mate based upon his character. It’s one thing if we have a lot in common and like a lot of the same things; it’s a completely different thing to have the same morals and values. We can both love playing euchre and eating Mexican food, but that doesn’t guarantee that he’s not a cheater or a liar. Hell, nothing guarantees that! A person can be funny, charming, good looking, intelligent, and have a great job but they can still be rotten to the core. I guess that if I ever decide to put myself out there again I’ll keep my trusty list handy, refer to it often, and base my decisions on whether or not he meets those guidelines. If it’s true that this is indeed a second chance then I hope I will use it wisely if I ever decide to take it. Truthfully? I doubt I’ll ever take it. I need a guarantee and they don’t exist.

My Ideal Man

A fellow blogger, SeekingGod2, wrote a post the other day asking about requirements in a future mate. I’m not going to regurgitate his entire post, or what his requirements are; you can go on over and read it if you want. I thought it was a really good question though. How many of us had requirements the first time? Did you stick with them, or did you let some of those requirements slide because you were madly in love? Do you think that not keeping to those requirements resulted in divorce/adultery/whatever situation you are in now? Do you have requirements the second time around?

SG2 admits he let some of those standards go, and now he’s wondering if the second time around he should take a hardline approach to those standards. That poor guy is probably ruing the day that he told me to speak up and not be shy. “I want to hear what you have to say!” Oh boy! I have told him most of this, but since I was commenting I didn’t want to turn his comments section into my own blog post. Here is what I think…

I think a lot of people have lists of what they want in an ideal mate. I think a lot of times those ideals are unrealistic and don’t really tell you jack about the person you’re with. I’ve heard of people whose list of requirements included must be tall, must be circumcised, must be smaller than her, must not be an addict in anyway even in recovery, must not have kids, must be uncircumcised, must have a college degree, must own their own home, must drink, must not be too hairy, must have a job and be self-sufficient. To be clear this is a sampling of at least 5 different lists. I also think that many times we meet someone, have this “instant chemistry” and then all common sense goes out the window. I know I always said I wanted someone with washboard abs, the face of an angel, a Harvard law degree, and who wanted 2 children, a dog, and summer home, but this guy is so dreamy and we have such chemistry. Who cares if he’s on Baby Mama #3 and doesn’t support any of his kids, or that he hasn’t had a job in three years and couch surfs because his parents finally kicked him out of their house after he moved back in once Baby Mama #2 kicked him out for cheating? We have chemistry and we’re in love!

I think it’s fine to have standards and to stick with them. I think it’s wise to not get caught up in the chemistry because those initial highs are going to wear off and then what are you left with?  However, I also think you need to take a hard look at those standards. Do they tell you anything about your prospective mate?

If I look back on my meeting with CF and everything I know about him I would say that he had a very impressive resume´ for lack of better word. He was smart- class president, class valedictorian, probably president of the National Honor Society. He told me he took physics in college to keep his GPA up. He was athletic- captain of the football team, captain of the baseball team, wrestler. There were numerous write ups in the local paper about him, especially his prowess on the football field. He had been drafted by a professional baseball team. He was offered a full ride pre-med scholarship at a very good school. He went to a prestigious college. He was a military veteran. He had a good job with a lot of potential. He’s also a liar and a cheater.

His sister, Jezebel, is very physically attractive. We could argue about her intelligence. Some say she’s dumber than a stump and CF always liked to tell the story of how she was so excited to get a 6 on the ACT because it was higher than her best friend’s score of 4. I think she’s not nearly as dumb as she would like people to believe. She’s also a talented singer. Regardless of how pretty she is, how talented she is, or how intelligent she is or is not, she’s a liar and a cheater, too.

And Harley? Well, I don’t consider her to be stunningly beautiful; she does have a Masters degree though so she must not be too stupid. Bonus points- she makes good money! But again, she’s a liar and a cheater.

So this begs the question… did your marriage implode, or did you experience infidelity, because you didn’t stick to your standards? Or, perhaps it was because the person you believed in didn’t have very good character. I tend to believe an intelligent person can blow up a marriage just as easily as a stupid person. The intelligent person might even be able to lie, cheat, gaslight, and blame shift better and longer, thereby doing more damage in the long run. I think an ugly person can cheat just as easily as a pretty person. No, really! Affairs are about how the other person makes you feel. Not everyone who cheats is attractive. And not all of the APs are anything to look at either! I think a person with a good job and/or their own home can destroy your trust just as easily as a person who makes minimum wage and rents. In fact, I would argue that we’re more likely to trust the person with the good job. It’s easier to overlook some of those things that make us say, “Hmmm….” I was taken in by show towels, for crying out loud!

I don’t really believe dating is in my future but if I did dive back in I think I would focus more on character than anything else. Did this person cheat on his spouse? That’s an immediate deal breaker. Nope. Nada. No way. Don’t care what the excuse is. You cheated; you’re out! If he’s divorced how does he speak about his ex? Is this person a good dad? Has he abandoned his kids? That’s another automatic out. I’m not going to be with a guy who has walked away from his own kids and yet wants to portray himself as Father of the Year to mine.  How does he treat people? Does he talk down to servers and sales people, or his subordinates? Is he kind? Does he have integrity? Is he honest? Does he like animals? Does he want to spend time with me, or will I be off doing everything on my own again? Will he go to festivals and movies and funerals and class reunions and weddings with me? Do we have things in common? If we have a lot of different interests would I be willing to learn about his interests and vice versa? Just because I haven’t done something doesn’t mean I’m not open to eventually doing it. How does he handle stress? Does he fly off the handle, curl up into a ball, or face the problems head on? Is he a drama queen? Does he fly into a rage when things aren’t going well? How well do we communicate? Does he avoid things or will he handle things head on? Do we have similar views on money and spending? Naturally, since I have 2 kids it would be important that he liked my kids and treated them well. I wouldn’t expect him to come in and play Daddy 2.0 but he can’t mistreat them, be jealous of them, or get irritated with the demands they place on my time. I will never be one of those people who puts a romantic partner before my kids, especially when they are still minors. What do we each want out of this relationship- casual dating, exclusivity, living together, eventual marriage? What kind of relationship does he have with his family? With his friends? What are his religious views and how do they compare to mine? Is he a homebody or a social butterfly? More specifically, is he going to refuse to interact with anyone outside of his very small circle?

Many times people think they know a person because they know all of these things about a person. Joe is 6’3 with brown hair and blue eyes. He’s a 5th degree black belt in karate, loves to go camping, and hates golf. His favorite color is red. His middle name is David. He’s got 3 sisters, a brother, and a Pug named Piglet. He works in sales and makes good money. His favorite holiday is Halloween and he loves the winter because he likes skiing and riding on his snow mobile. He graduated from UNLV but hates Vegas, and would love to one day move to New Mexico.  Wow! That’s an impressive list about Joe, but it doesn’t tell us anything of substance.

I’m not saying people shouldn’t have standards or a list of requirements. By all means, have them! But figure out what’s really important to you.

I can’t believe I’m about to write this but in some ways we’re luckier the second time around. We can take our time and choose wisely. There is no pressure to settle down, get married, have kids, buy a house, act like a grown up. We’ve done all that. At least for me I have no pressure to get married. I have no desire to remarry, in fact. I don’t have a biological clock ticking because, let’s face it, I’m of “advanced maternal age” and it’s just not going to happen. More importantly, I already have two children. They’re fabulous! I don’t even feel compelled to couple up because almost all of my friends are. Seriously, how is it possible that the divorce rate is supposedly 50% but almost everyone I know is either married or has a significant other??? Just tossing that mystery out there. I don’t feel compelled to couple up. I am perfectly content to do things on my own. Truth be told I’m in no rush to do someone else’s laundry, pick up after them, make their appointments, or cook their dinner for them, especially when I don’t feel like cooking.

If I were to do it again, to date again, and find someone that I liked enough to date seriously (but not marry!) what would my own list look like now? Stay tuned and I’ll let you know tomorrow.