Should You Share Your Inheritance With the Mistress?

I came across this gem recently: Husband cheats on wife. Leaves her for the mistress. Then he dies at age 48 and leaves his ex-wife everything. Mistress is pissed. I shall elaborate.

The “man” cheated on his wife when she was four months pregnant after more than ten years of marriage. It was only when he asked for a divorce and then had his lawyer order her out of their apartment that she found out about the mistress. Over the years the ex-husband attempted to reach out to her several times, including after she had a miscarriage with their child. When he found out he was terminally ill he reached out again but she wisely refused to see him even though this was his “last wish.” Boo hoo.

Despite her refusal to see him, and despite the fact that the woman had remarried and had two children with her current husband, the ex-husband left her everything. He even wrote her a letter that he included with his will where he stated he had never stopped loving or thinking about her, and in his mind, she was still his wife.

Oh really? Still loved her and thought about her even while you were banging your mistress? Did your affair accomplice know you were still pining for your former wife? Did she know she was still fucking a married man in your eyes because you were still married to your ex? Did that keep everything fresh and exciting with her because you could convince yourself you were still cheating on your wife and your side whore was still just an option, not your only option?

Side question: How did your mistress feel about the fact that you weren’t willing to marry her?

I wish I could feel bad for him but I don’t. Plus, he’s dead so he doesn’t even know I don’t feel bad for him.

Sad sausage goes on to write to his ex-wife that he never got over the loss of their child (the one you abandoned when she was four months pregnant?) and felt responsible for causing the miscarriage. Leaving her his money was his way of making amends.

The relationship with the mistress lasted 8 years and at 33, Little Miss Homewrecker has been left with nothing. Doing the math it seems a really stupid 25 year old got involved with a 40 year told and thought she was going to live a life of luxury. And then he died and left everything to his ex-wife. Including the apartment the mistress currently lives in.

Excuse me while I laugh hysterically.

Naturally the mistress is not happy about this. I mean, if she was willing to steal the wife’s husband do you really think she wants to let the wife keep all of his money? Oh no! She’s threatening to contest the will if the ex-wife doesn’t give her a portion of it.

Oh, the inheritance? Comes out to $1.3 million.

In addition to all this fun, the woman’s ex in-laws are also pressuring her to “be fair and share the money”. According to them the mistress will end up homeless and on the streets if the ex-wife won’t share. Because, you know, the ex-wife also got the apartment.

Hey, dumbasses, she already shared her husband with the dumb bitch. She didn’t get a choice in that decision. She can, however, choose not to share her inheritance.

Also, I’m sure the mistress will land on her back. She’ll find some other poor married sucker and leach off of him.

At the end of the article it asks, “Is the author entirely justified to keep the full inheritance that her ex-husband purposely left her, even if it means his girlfriend of 8 years gets nothing? Or should the author be kinder to the girlfriend, who just lost her partner, and share a portion of the wealth with her?

Oh. For. The. Love. Be kinder to the woman who fucked your husband behind your back? Be kinder to the whore who came in and wrecked your marriage and your life? Do you think the mistress was urging her lover to share a portion of his income with the wife he left behind for her? How kind do you think the mistress was to the wife when she lost her baby? Do you think the mistress even thought for one minute that maybe her actions had contributed to that?

The ex-wife went on to say that once her husband left her for the mistress the mistress quit college, never worked a day in her life, and basically lived off of her lover. Too bad he died young.

Maybe she should have a heart to heart with the grieving girlfriend. After all, she could sympathize. I imagine it might go something like this: Oh, Whore, I feel for you. What you’re going through now must feel an awful lot like what I went through when I was four months pregnant and found out my husband was fucking you. You must be as devastated now, finding out he blindsided you and left you with nothing, as I was back then when he blindsided me and torpedoed our life together for a life of cheap sex with you. I guess you could say he left me with nothing as well back then and gave you everything. Don’t forget that I, too, know what it’s like to be betrayed by him. The only difference, of course, is that you helped him betray me. I didn’t do anything to you. You go right ahead and contest that will. You don’t have a leg to stand on and I’m not giving you a single red cent.

Thankfully the mistress is still young. She could play this one of two ways. Way #1 she actually gets off her ass and gets a job and works for what she wants. My guess is that will not appeal to the gold digger. So again, thankfully she is still young because way #2 involves finding some other sucker to support her. Maybe the next one won’t come down with a terminal illness.

If I were the woman I’d tell both the gold digging girlfriend and the asinine ex in-laws to fuck all the way off. And when they had fucked all the way off they could keep going and fuck off some more. They could keep fucking off until they fucking died.

Keep that money, honey! He left it to you to assuage his guilt. He was probably hoping to buy his way into Heaven. If he had wanted the whore to have it he would have left it to her. Use that money to make your life better and easier.

One last tip- don’t co-mingle the inheritance with marital funds. Keep it as yours, and yours alone.

Chillicothe, Part 2

One other fun story about Chillicothe and it’s seedy underbelly. Seriously the downtown is divine and the park is a little slice of heaven on earth. Other parts? Not so great.

We went to dinner at our favorite Mexican restaurant. After we finish the mobster wants ice cream. But most everything downtown is closed at this point. He says he’ll just pop into a gas station and grab an ice cream there.

Let me tell you a little something about Ohio. They have bars in their gas stations. I swear to God I am not making this up. Full service bars. With seats and a bar and everything. And they have drive-thru liquor stores, which I thought was unique to Kentucky but apparently it is not.

I pull into the first gas station. It is packed. I can’t find a parking space and there are people congregating outside. I turn to him and say, “Isn’t this the gas station with the bar in it?” He agrees that it is. At this point I just say, “No.” No, I was not going to do that. I wasn’t going to try to navigate a parking lot filled with cars and people and no parking spots. I wasn’t attempting to find a parking spot. I wasn’t parking while he went inside. I was not risking my life or his. I’m not saying people who drink and hang out at gas stations are bad people. It’s simply not an environment in which I’m comfortable. We move on.

Next gas station is also packed. I make my way around the cars at the pumps and realize I am stuck until someone moves. The mobster jumps out to go buy some ice cream. Comes back a minute later, telling me they had absolutely no frozen items. And still we sit, waiting for someone to leave at this busier than fuck gas station. At this point I’m thinking they’ve got a gas station up the street with a full freaking bar in it and they also have a drive thru liquor store not far from here. Why is this place hopping? Seriously. There were people and cars all over.

I have to tell you before i go on why this was so triggering for me. When I was 17 or 18 years old 3 of my friends and I were out one summer night (at least I think it was summer- it was over 40 years ago!). Our friend Cynde had this little yellow Datsun, stick shift. She flooded the engine. We had no idea at the time that that is what happened. We just knew the damn car wouldn’t start. And we were not in a great section of town. Why on earth we were over there I don’t know. But we spotted a cop over at the Bullseye Liquor store and we made a beeline to him. The cop, by the way, was not buying alcohol or simply hanging out at the liquor store. He was actually on duty, directing the traffic and making sure all behavior was above board. Because this place was *that* busy. He very kindly called my mother who came and picked the four of us up. Meanwhile, while we wait we’ve got cars pulling in and pulling out at an invigorating pace. We have older men hitting on us. I remember one guy asking, “Ladies, can I ask you something? How does it feel going through life so beautiful?” Or some such bullshit.I saucily replied that it felt pretty great. Chillicothe gas stations on a Saturday night brought the whole Bullseye Liquor store thing right up to the forefront. The words I spoke to Cynde, who was somehow delightfully ignorant of the danger we could be in despite her father being a cop, ran through my head as I navigated these inordinately busy gas stations, “It is not fine! They are going to rape us, kill us, and chop our bodies into tiny little pieces!”

Finally we were able to leave. The mobster says to just go on home. He can live without the ice cream. We pass one more gas station which is closer to the park. I offer to pull in. He says, I swear, “That’s ok,” so I pass it by. Then he says, “I said ok. I would like the ice cream.” Thankfully I could turn at the light and go in the second entrance. This particular gas station operated more as an actual gas station and not a bar. He got his ice cream. I escaped death. We drove back to the house and I drank a bottle of wine. I shared a little with him. He had ice cream. Wow- that whole gas station and Bullseye Liquor thing really did come full circle what with me drinking almost an entire bottle of wine after my ordeal at the gas station.

That Weekend I Thought My Car Got Stolen

Good Monday, everyone! How are you? I’m hoping I still have readers. I think there might be 10 of you left. I have no one to blame except myself and my horrible posting habits. I digress…

I just got back from a weekend in Chillicothe. It’s actually the first weekend spent with the mobster since he went back to Virginia at the beginning of June. It was great. Except for those few minutes that felt like hours when we thought my car was either stolen or towed. Let me explain.

Saturday was a big Pokemon Go event. It was the finale to Go Fest which took place the last time we were together in Chillicothe. My original thinking was we would get up, drive to New Systems Bakery to enjoy their delicious bismarks and hopefully some chicken tortilla soup (hooray for me! They did have it!), and then bring the car back to the house, walk down to two shops we wanted to go into, and then walk down to the park. Very healthy of us. Or at least we would hopefully walk off the bismarks.

I will go back yet another step further. Friday we both got there around 6:00 pm. We wandered around the downtown for a little bit. We walked by this store we had wanted to go into last time we were there. Unfortunately, it was closed last time so we wanted to check the hours and make sure we could get int this time around.

Then we walked by this lovely stained glass shop we’ve frequented in the past. One time I bought this pretty coaster and I think a butterfly for my mom. The store owner mentioned that his mother had made those so I say to him, “Wow- sounds like your mom is having a really good day!” Lots of sales, you know? And he says to me, “My mom died a year ago.” So, not having a great day.

Who knows? Maybe she was having a great time in Heaven, looking down and seeing her mortal goods finally being purchased. I feel like I bought more than just a coaster and a butterfly but it’s been years so I don’t remember and it’s not important. What’s important is we have history with this shop.

It was closed at this point in the evening but we walked by and looked at the various items in the huge window display. They had this amazing succulent made from stained glass. It was beautiful and I wanted that sucker! It will be the one plant I cannot kill! The mobster saw some melted bottles that he wanted as well so we decided we would visit The Totem and this stained glass shop in the morning before the big Pokemon event started at 10. Except The Totem didn’t open until 10 but I told him I was fine with that.

Back to Saturday morning. Drive to New Systems. Park the car. Walk to the two shops and then go to the park. Then we realize if we buy anything, which we planned to do, we needed to walk back to the house. So, instead we drove to New Systems. Ate. Drove back to the downtown. Because of the sand volleyball tournament they were having in the street parking was difficult to find. We parked about 2 blocks from where we wanted to be, which was fine, and is germane to the story.

Not really germane to the story? Chillicothe has got a lot of very interesting things going on in their small town. It’s a population of just over 22,000 but it seems like they always have the best events going on. 50 West just put on a race earlier this year. They have this amazing park. The decorations are awesome at Christmas. I love their Santa. They’ve had an iceskating rink set up, both in a parking lot just off the street and in the park. They have great restaurants. And now they rope off a city block, dump mounds of sand on the street, and host a volleyball tournament. How incredible is that? All my city has is a stupid wine walk and the tickets are usually sold out before I even realize there is a wine walk! You know what Chillicothe is like? It’s like one of those towns in a Hallmark movie. Except I’m pretty sure they’ve got a pretty serious heroine problem and at least one serial killer on the loose. Aside from that it’s exactly like the Hallmark movie towns. And I don’t care about the drugs and the serial killer because I love this little smelly town!

Where were we? New Systems. Ate. Parked 2 blocks away. We parked over by Carl’s Townhouse, which is not a townhouse at all. It’s a little diner that serves breakfast and lunch. We’ve been there a few times. Unfortunately, the last time we went they took forever and they served me bad tomato juice. Like, there were chunks in the tomato juice and they were not tomato chunks. It was disgusting.

Once parked we went to The Totem first. Shopped. I came out with a rather large bag. Bought a t-shirt, a magnolia scented candle, and a coffee mug. Then we walked to the stained glass shop. I got my stained glass succulent, bought a smaller one for my daughter, and then while he was wrapping everything up for me, decided to purchase a set of gorgeous wind chimes. The mobster made his own purchases. We walk this all back to the car, carefully place it in the trunk so it doesn’t get stolen, and because it’s so late we decide to drive over to the park instead of driving back to the house and walking.

We go into the park, park by the bathrooms because we had to go and why park and walk when you can simply park, and then we play Pokemon Go All. Day. We didn’t start exactly at 10. At least not balls to the wall starting. But once we got to the park, we played until after 6.

One other creepy detail after I’ve just described this town as a Hallmark town. Before I went to the bathroom I was sucking down the last of my iced Milky Way coffee. Delicious. I’m standing there by the trashcan finishing this beverage off and as I’m turning to go into the bathroom this guy is walking towards me and I realize he’s speaking to me. He’s asking for money. He’s homeless. Yada, yada, yada. Do I have any cash on me? I did but I wasn’t going to tell him that!

When I got back in the car the mobster asked me if I had seen the look on the guy’s face when he realized that there was a man sitting in the car and that I wasn’t alone. I had not. I just figured when I said I didn’t carry cash on me he turned around and went back to where he had been sitting. The mobster was insistent that he thought this guy was a predator and might have actually tried to attack me if he hadn’t been there.

I’m not going to let a little thing like a potential homicide or mugging stop me from a great day of Pokemon Go. I had ultra beasts to catch! One day only!

We walk around this huge park for over 6 hours. We catch. We spin stops. We raid. It was a full day. It started off beautifully with sunny skies and a nice breeze. Great temperature. But by later in the afternoon the humidity was starting to take hold. The remaining few hours of the day were humid. And we’re walking through this. After 6 the mobster is getting hungry and he’s encouraging me to shut it down for the day and grab some dinner.

We head out of the park and over to our parking spot in front of Carl’s Townhouse. Only… there’s no car there. We’re both looking around. I’m checking the signs to make sure I didn’t park in a tow-away zone. No. The sign just says 2 hour parking Monday-Friday and by parking there you agree to their terms. I know I parked behind the sign. We’re both freaking out because we’re not sure if my car got stolen or if I got towed. It’s Saturday evening. If I was towed how soon could I even bail out my car? And if it was stolen those motherfuckers stole my new t-shirt, my new candle, my beautiful stained glass succulent and wind chimes, and my damn coffee mug! Not to mention the mobster’s purchases. He’s high tailing back to the house (which was only about another 2 blocks from Carl’s) although I can no longer remember what the purpose of that was. Oh yes! The thought was maybe we did take the car back to the house and walk over to the park from there. Then I get this horrible thought. What if the guy from the park who was trying to extort money out of me was pissed because I didn’t give him any money so he stole my car instead!

That’s when it clicked. We had parked the damn car over in the park by the bathrooms. Whew! We had a rather long walk back to that spot but it was much better than filing a police report or bailing my car out. And that was the weekend that I thought my car was stolen.

My stained glass succulent

Monday

I was feeling a little better when I went into work on Monday because I had worked about five hours on Saturday and another 2 or 3 on Sunday, catching up and trying to get ahead.

My grand plan to get ahead hit a bit of a snag on Friday when my boss me and two of my co-workers to let us know we were getting a part time admin person. This person was going to be taking over a report that I switch off on doing with one of my co-workers. This is a great thing actually because it frees up my time and I don’t have to stop what I’m doing to upload this report, go back to doing what I’m doing for an hour, and then stop and download the report when the hour or so is up. My plan hit a snag because my boss decided I would be the person who trained this new person. Which means my mornings are pretty much tied up. Today I did do some other things while we waited on the report but the first two days it was a beast. Mainly because we had so many people we had to pair up due to not having a Social Security number.

Anyway, I’m getting off track here. I’m in charge of training her. I’m coming into the office every day because of this. I did not know about this training when I made my dog’s grooming appointment the week prior. My plan at that time was I would work from home on Monday so that I could leave on my lunch hour and take Mr. Milo in. Instead, I’m going to stay at the office until around 12:45, pick up Milo, take him to the groomer’s, and then work from home the rest of the day.

I don’t know if I’ve shared this before or not but Milo has seizures. They last maybe 1-3 minutes. He stiffens up and drools a little bit. I’m used to them by now. I’ve talked to his vet, at least 2 different ones, and both said as long as they weren’t happening every day then he didn’t need to be medicated. His vary. He might have 2 in a week and then go 6 weeks before he has another one.

The reason I share this information is because due to these seizures Milo has to do the speed service when he gets groomed. Basically I drop him off, they immediately bath him and start grooming him, and about 15 minutes before they finish they call me so I can be there pretty much when he’s done.

Monday I drop him off. I decide that I will stop at Target and order my contacts because I got a $150 coupon in the mail. It says take an additional $150 off of your contacts. So I’m planning on doing so. I’ve had this for about 2 or 3 weeks and I need to get my butt in there because I’m down to about the last 2 weeks of last year’s supply. I also plan to buy a hot oil treatment because my stylist was not lying about me needing to condition the heck out of my hair!

I stop in. Order the contacts. Show them my coupon. That’s when I find out the coupon is the exact same in store offer they have already made. No additional $150 off. I did not need to stop in. I could have called.

I take one look at the horde of people standing in line with all of their dorm supplies and say to myself, “I do not need anything that badly,” and I walk out the door.

Now I had not had lunch at this point and I hadn’t eaten breakfast either. I was getting very hungry before I even left work. In fact, I was thinking I was going to grab some lunch after we sent off the email with the report when I realized I had to go home and take my dog to the groomer’s. So my next stop is to get something to eat.

Chick-Fil-A was my first choice but it was further away from my house and it’s always a zoo there. So I went with Arby’s. As I’m driving home my phone rings. I ignore it, thinking it’s a branch calling me and I’m on lunch so I wouldn’t be any help anyway.

I get home, take out my food and the phone rings again. It turns out it was PetSmart. Milo had a seizure while she was grooming him. As per company policy she rushed him over to the vet’s. They’re over at the vet’s waiting for me. It is now 2:00. My lunch hour has lasted an hour and 15 minutes. I still have not eaten. I am still hungry.

I head over to the vet’s office and I am there for over an hour. For a 30 second seizure.

The good news is this vet said he does need to be medicated. She asked how many seizures he has in a year and I replied, “35? Maybe?” And she said, “Oh my! Yes, he definitely needs to be on medication.”

I calculated that 35 seizures a year is almost 3 a month which isn’t even 1 a week. She said 35 in a year was too many. I said maybe it was only 24. She said, “Still too many. Anything over 10 in a year should be treated.”

I’m glad the other two vets didn’t take it seriously for years. Holding my poor puppy while his body is completely stiff and he’s trying to gain his footing and he’s drooling all over has been such a wonderful experience these last few years.

By the time we get home it is after 3:30. I’ve taken a 3 hour lunch and I have not eaten yet. My Arby’s bag has sat there for close to 2 hours. I eat it anyway.

I finally logged back on to the computer around 4, and while I stopped for dinner (my mom cooked and I ate even though I was no longer hungry) I worked until around 8:30.

Oh, in case anyone was wondering I didn’t get charged for the grooming. The vet visit, on the other hand, cost me over $400. Between blood work and the emergency visit it was quite the pricey adventure. Plus, I still have to take him back to the groomer’s (have to wait 7 days though) because she was only able to clean around his eyes and do his nails before the seizure.

We’ll end this on a good note though. When my trainee came over to the office in the morning I was joking with her, telling her that I wasn’t sure why they were having me train her because I was the newest person in the department. She already knew I was the newest person in the department. She told me that my boss’s boss had told her that I was new but not to worry because I was also really good.

Ha! My boss’s boss thinks I’m really good at what I do.

Thursday

I’ve had a rough couple of days and I’m going to tell you all about them.

First, I need to say the fact that I was behind at work was completely my own fault. After constantly feeling like I was behind and working weekends and long hours I was on schedule the first week in August. I create a calendar each month and I have my alerts spaced out and the dates I want to queue up and file SARs. I list the weeks I have daily reports. It’s like a to-do list but more like a schedule of when those things need to get done.

My first week in August I’m leaving the office on Friday and I’m like, “I can’t believe it! I’m not only on schedule I actually did a few other things! I knocked out a couple of CDD alerts (I know this means nothing to any of you; it’s not integral to the story). Whew! No more late hours or weekends working for me.”

Next week comes along. I’m on schedule Monday and Tuesday. Wednesday comes along and I have no ambition. I did the things I needed to get done each day and that was about it. No SARs. No alerts. I’m thinking to myself, “Well, I can catch up. It’s no big deal.”

Thursday and Friday were pretty much the same. I had no motivation. Did not do much at all. So, end of Week 2 and I’m now officially behind.

I go into Monday telling myself I can still save this. This is the week I have nothing else on my plate aside from writing up SARs, doing alerts, and doing my daily watch list and CTRs. I am confident I can get a lot done.

I worked about 11 hours on Monday, I believe, because I decided a few hours into the day that I was going to get all of the remaining SARs except one finished. Tuesday I turned in my last one that was due for about a week. I felt incredible! Better still was the fact that I could spend the next 2 or 3 days working on alerts and really get those knocked out.

It did not go as well as I thought it would and then came Thursday. I decided to work from home because I had a hair appointment at 4:30. The hair salon is about 15 minutes north of me. My office is usually 10-15 minutes south of me but now that they’ve blocked off the intersection on our road, leaving us no good way to travel it takes more like 15-20 minutes. This is important information, unlike knowing what a CDD alert is.

Here’s another little tidbit of information that is going to be important. I park in a parking garage downtown. It’s about a 5 minute walk to the office, which is no big deal. I have a little blue fob like thing that I use to gain access to the garage. That fob had not been working so one morning I stopped in the lobby on my way to the office and asked if I could have it re-keyed. The person who normally does this wasn’t in that day but they said they would take it and call me when it was ready. In the meantime I could just push the button and they would buzz me through. Simple enough, and honestly, it’s what I had been doing the last few times I parked in the garage because my fob wouldn’t work.

Once again- it’s Thursday. I decide to work from home because of my hair appointment. I took a shower that morning. Let my hair air dry. Threw on a maxi dress. No bra. No undies. I’ll get ready when it’s time to go get my hair done.

Around 11:30 my internet is not working. Now, mind you we had just switched internet providers. We now have the fiber optic internet which is supposed to be the very best. I call the Help Desk, thinking there’s a problem with my VPN. I’m on the phone with him for about 20 minutes before we finally figure out that it’s not the bank that is the problem. My internet is completely out.

I am furious. I’m supposed to be working on alerts and getting my list whittled down. I’m not supposed to be spending 30 minutes on the phone with IT only to find out my stupid internet that we just got is not working. AND, because I’m going to be leaving from my office downtown instead of my house I now need to leave work around 3:45 to allow for time to walk to the garage and the extra time needed to make my way from downtown into Michigan. So I have even less time to work on these alerts.

I now have to get dressed, look somewhat presentable because I’m going into the office, and throw my hair up in a ponytail.

I’m also hungry at this point because it’s somewhere between 11:30 and 12:00. But now I have to run downtown. And remember, my direct route is disrupted because of this stupid intersection they’re widening. So I take the longer route, the one which will ultimately pass by a Burger King. I’m boycotting McDonald’s. I’ll write about that later. Chick-Fil-A takes way too long in this circumstance. I’ve already written about that.

I go with the mix and match option which is two sandwiches, no fries. She asks which two sandwiches I would like. I ask for the original chicken sandwich and a double cheeseburger. She says, “The BK King?” or something similar to that. I have no idea what it is but it looks like a double cheeseburger. I say, “Sure.”

Let me tell you. It was not a double cheeseburger. Double cheeseburger has ketchup, mustard, pickle. This thing had lettuce, onions (I hate onions for the most part) and this disgusting sauce that I think was supposed to mimic Big Mac sauce. I was not a fan.I was already pissed because I had no internet, I had to go into the office, and my direct route was fucked up. Now I’m eating something I don’t like when I’m hungry.

I get downtown. Turn into my garage. Push the silver button so the people at the hotel can lift the gate for me. Nothing happens. I push the button again. Again nothing happens. At one point I thought, “Fuck it! I’ll take a ticket instead!” That didn’t work either. No tickets and the blue button which dispenses the tickets did nothing. I ended up pushing the damn button five or six times. I was waiting in that damn garage for a good five minutes to be let in! The weird part was when I would buzz in it would call and then it would sound like they had “picked up” or whatever it is they do, and that’s normally when the gate lifts. But this time around it would sound like they were getting ready to lift the gate and then there was just nothing.

I worked for all of probably 2 hours and 45 minutes before heading off to my appointment and of course the traffic was horrible the entire way there.

My appointment was at 4:30. I got there about 4:35 and she did not finish with me until almost 8. She is very good at what she does but she is not fast. And she took me very blonde so there was a lot of work involved.

To top off my evening I called home as I was driving back to see if there was still food left. My son had eaten most of it. That was fine. I told my mom I would just stop and get a Subway sandwich.

I pull into the drive-thru. The guy tells me he’s working on some online orders but he’ll get to me as soon as he’s done. Apparently restaurants are doing a new thing now where the customers who actually make the effort to come to the restaurant take a backseat to the customers who sit on their ass at home and place an online order. I was plenty patient, too, but after ten minutes had gone by I gave up. I find it ridiculous that the customer who is there in person is expected to stand by and wait while you take care of the customer that is at his house, waiting for someone to bring him a sandwich.

That was my Thursday. No internet. Looking like shit going in. Gross sandwich. Couldn’t get into the garage. Missing an hour or two of work when I really needed every minute I could get. Heavy traffic. Detours. 3 1/2 hours in a stylist’s chair. Stupid Subway. Thankfully the internet was up and running by the time I finally got home around 9. I have very blonde hair once again (she took me much darker last time). I was still behind, though, and ended up working about 10 hours over the weekend.

I’ll share Monday’s catastrophe in a separate post. It’s another doozy.

P.S. I have definitely learned my lesson. I will never let myself get unmotivated again.

Jeez Louise, Not This Bullshit Again

I want you to read this and soak it all in.

I present to you Exhibit H or J or whatever letter we’re up to by now. I’m going to say it louder for those in the back: Cheating is not about problems in the marriage. It is not about a partner’s shortcomings- what they did or didn’t do that made the cheater sad. It is about entitlement. It is about shitty character.

How dare this buffoon tell a woman whose life has just imploded thanks to her husband’s wandering dick to not leave her cheating husband? DO NOT leave him because of this. This? This what? This is so nebulous. Can’t quite put my finger on it. What is this “this” you speak of? Cheating? Disrespect? Dishonesty? Disloyalty? Abuse? Financial destruction? Abandonment? Endangering her life? Let’s name it. Which one of these shitty values that her husband is bringing to the relationship should she overlook? All of them? Because hey, we’re just men. We have dicks and we have to put them somewhere. Anywhere! It could be anyone. Nothing personal.

He knows it hurts (then why do it?) but he wants us women to know we HAVE to stop ending marriages over it. Who’s going to go grocery shopping for him? Who will cook his dinner? Who will do his laundry and put his clothes away? Who will take care of his kids? Who will be the handy wife appliance that buys gifts for his family and plans vacations and holidays? Who? Have you women any idea what you’re doing with your uppity plans to end a marriage over a little thing like adultery?

Let’s be rational adults. I’ll give you a list of things that you can work on so that I’m not forced to cheat. You’ll forget all about this tiny little indiscretion and if you don’t forget, at least agree to never bring it up again. We’ll go back to things being just like they were before except you’ll keep dancing pretty for me to keep me entertained so I don’t go searching for new snatch. But we both know that’s not going to happen because men are hard wired to cheat. And meanwhile, I get to keep the convenience of a wife, I don’t have to share custody of my kids, and I don’t have to give you any of my money. It’s a win/win when you think about it.

Seriously, how dare you women keep ending marriages over this which is in men’s nature? Divorcing us because we’re not faithful? Have you lost your mind, women? How dare you demand better? How dare you stick up for yourselves? How dare you desire more than crumbs that are left over? Next thing you know you’re going to want to be able to vote and have your own line of credit! Who let you have your own bank account again? And when will they finally stop hiring you? You women get jobs and earn your own money and the next thing you know you’re going to stop putting up with our shit! Ummm…..

I love how he speaks for ALL MEN. ALL MEN want to have sex with multiple women and only 10% of all straight men get to. I don’t know where he’s getting his statistics. I’m not even sure what that means. I do know if I were a man I would be pretty pissed off at this jackass assuming that because I have a penis I must want to sleep around on my wife.

He trots out the tried and true, “Men and women are NOT the same.” Yes, women only cheat when they’re madly in love or things are bad at home. Men though they’ll fuck anything. Any time. They’re just different that way. Men can have sex with ten different women and come home to you, his loving wife, because sex with Ashley, and Brittany, and Heather, and Jessica, and Allison, and Hope, and Destiny and those others didn’t mean anything. And hey, he’s home, shoving the food you lovingly prepared into his gaping piehole. Aren’t you the luckiest? Yes, he goes off and fucks all of those other women but you’re the one that gets to do his laundry, cook his meals, clean his house, and baby his pathetic ass when he gets sick.

Again he instructs DO NOT end things if the girl means nothing and it was just sex. Because again, sharing his dick with every woman out there is no big deal. STDs are things they made up in fairy tales. No woman has ever been killed by a jealous mistress. And who doesn’t want to share her man with every woman in town? It’s a dream for so many of us.

Also, men are only as faithful as their options. Hmmm… why is it that women are not only as faithful as their options? I hear a whole lot of stories of women putting up with endless amounts of bullshit and they’re not out there cheating even if they’re propositioned. I don’t think it’s a wiring issue.

This jackass does a disservice to the entire male population.

Your husband is faithful? Yeah, he’s probably just not able to fuck anybody else. As soon as he starts to work with a bunch of hot women he’s going to be cheating like everybody else. Just wait and see.

I do think it’s easier to be faithful when you don’t have temptation staring you in the face all the time. But there have been plenty of men who seek out opportunities and plenty of men that have many opportunities but don’t cheat. I don’t think anyone would have said that Jerry Lee had women falling all over him. His mom and sister both said he spent weekends reading encyclopedias. His own daughter said if I ever left him he would be alone forever. He was not what one would call a player. He didn’t have multiple opportunities. Yet he still cheated.

I think what you were trying to say, Sir, is, “Men are only as faithful as their character is good. Men who feel entitled to a pussy buffet are only as faithful as their options.”

My favorite part though was when he stated: Please, for the love of the God you got married in front of, do not ends things because he did what’s in his nature to do.

For the love of the God you got married in front of? You mean that same God that says, “Thou shalt not commit adultery?” I’m pretty sure it’s not, “Thou shalt not commit adultery unless you’re a man because let’s face it I designed him to be a man whore who can’t control himself.” I haven’t been to church in a while so maybe that’s the newer version and I just don’t know. Apologies in advance if that’s the case.

It’s amazing how taking vows in front of God is supposed to be so important to the woman that she is expected to overlook her husband cheating on her. Because all men do it; that’s their nature. And yet, taking those same vows, the ones that presumably mention forsaking all others, in front of that same God mean absolutely nothing to the man in the same relationship. Interesting.

This is the definition of cake eating. In this case it’s the man getting to fuck everything that strikes his fancy while his wife dutifully cleans and cooks for him, takes care of him and their children, acts as the liaison between him and his family, and has sex with him while never attempting to shame him or make him stop his whoring behavior. In fact, if she should do something so audacious as divorcing him he will promptly tell her why she should not do this. Because nature.

For the last time, it is not in a “man’s nature” to cheat. It is in an entitled fuckwit’s nature to cheat. Entitled fuckwits don’t make good partners.

Hey, you know what should be in a woman’s nature? Kicking entitled fuckwits’ asses to the curb! Boy bye!

Hallmark in August

We’re switching over to Direct TV streaming which means I need to watch a whole lotta Hallmark Christmas movies!

Honestly, they’re not all going to get watched. There’s just too many. Thankfully the streaming service includes both the Hallmark channel and Hallmark Mysteries & Movies. Or maybe it’s Movies & Mysteries. I’m not sure.

Anyway, I watched a few and here are my thoughts.

The first one I watched was Just In Time For Christmas. I liked it.

Small town girl living in Washington gets the job offer of a lifetime- tenure track at Yale along with publishing her thesis and turning it into a #1 best-selling book. The offer, of course, comes in as she’s driving to meet her boyfriend who is planning on proposing to her. He proposes, she can’t say yes, and she ends up taking a carriage ride with William Shatner. At the end of the ride she sees the Northern Lights and is propelled three years into the future.

It seems she took the offer at Yale. Her thesis was indeed turned into a best-selling novel. She had an amazing house, amazing wardrobe, and plenty of money. And she did also get offered tenure at Yale. But alas, her boyfriend had moved on after she left him to live her life in New Haven.

Her boyfriend was a coffee shop owner. In present day he had only the one shop but in the future he had a second shop and was opening a third. He was also now engaged to the woman who had worked for him at the shop.

She realizes that everything she has in life means nothing without love.

Now, let me tell you why I liked this one. I felt myself getting sucked into it. I’m thinking, “Yeah, you don’t really have anything if you’re all alone.” And then I reined myself in. Obviously, to Lindsey (that was the character’s name) she and Jason had never broken up. He had had three years to adjust to this new life without her but she was just now discovering all the changes. But I’m thinking to myself, “In three years she didn’t meet anyone else? It’s Jason or no one?”

Believe me, Jason was a lovely fellow. He was very easy on the eyes, sweet, supportive, and he owned a coffee shop! I have nothing against Jason. I’m just saying, in three years she never met a single soul? She is transported into the future, discovers she has millions in her bank account, has an amazing home, a best-selling book, and a job at Yale, but there was no new man in this new future? Not that she needs one, of course, but you watch enough of these movies where people wake up in a different time period and they almost always have a spouse or significant other they know nothing about.

As I was saying, I reined myself in. Why should Lindsey give up her dreams and her success for Jason’s? Maybe they were two great people who simply had separate paths to take? Or, maybe Jason could have followed Lindsey while she followed her dreams? Hmmm….

And that is the part I liked about it. Hallmark is always getting a bad rap about the high powered business woman leaving the big city for love and small town living. In this one she flat out tells him (thanks to her three year time leap) that she knows she’s going to be successful but being successful won’t mean nearly as much without having someone with whom she can share her success. She asks him to come with her to New Haven. Funny story. She’s going to a college town. He runs a coffee shop. He gets the brilliant idea that maybe a coffee shop in that area might be a big hit. Ya think?

I’ll give it a 10. I liked both of the leads. I liked the message and the fact that Lindsey didn’t sacrifice everything for Jason. I liked the fact that Jason actually left his life behind for Lindsey. Christopher Lloyd played her grandfather and it was nice seeing him again. Plus William Shatner as the Christmas elf or fairy godfather, whatever magical being he was supposed to be, is always fun.

Another one I watched was A Bride For Christmas. This is one of those movies that makes me shake my head and ask, “Hallmark, WTF are you doing?”

Jessie has bailed on two previous grooms when we meet her at her engagement party. She makes it down the aisle at her third wedding but keeps on going right out the back door. Why on earth you would keep throwing engagement parties and big ass weddings for a woman who has already bolted on two previous weddings is my first question.

Then we meet Aiden playing poker with three of his work colleagues. He wins. There’s snarky conversation. It’s apparent that Aiden thinks marriage is a trap and the end of the line for a man. A bet is soon made regarding him getting a woman to agree to get engaged before Christmas. The spoils of this bet? A freaking office! If he wins he gets the corner office and if he loses he gives up his office with no windows and has to take a cubicle. What. The. Ever. Living. Hell? You’re going to get engaged in about three weeks time so that you can get a better office? Have you ever heard of getting promoted? Just tossing that out there as an idea.

Anyway, they meet at an art show. He hits on her. She says no. Her sister says yes on her behalf. She and her sister are interior designers so her sister pushes her onto him for some unknown reason that is supposedly for business opportunities. She decorates his apartment amazingly well. They share stories about their lives. There’s volunteering at a dog shelter. A dog is adopted and then returned. Aiden sticks up for the dog which causes Jessie to kiss him and realize “he’s the one”. They’re planning the wedding- mere weeks after meeting and, oh yeah, only weeks after walking out of her third wedding. She finds out about the bet from her ex-fiance and breaks up with Aiden. Sadly, she finds out this information after he’s already called off the bet and taken his place in the cubicle. She will not even entertain his explanation. Wow- he’s in a cubicle for nothing now. Her MOM shows up at Aiden’s place of work, asks him if he loves Jessie, and when he assures her that he does, announces, “Then let’s get busy planning a wedding.” Again, I ask, What. The. Ever. Living. Hell?

Jessie goes to the shelter on Christmas Eve/Christmas Day (I don’t really know which) to tend to the dogs and give them their treats. Goes to give Jake, the returned dog, a treat and finds out he’s been adopted. Again. Jessie is sad but she fights through it, happy for Jake that he found a family. It’s Christmas, after all.

Jessie and her sister show up at their parents’ house for Christmas. Jessie is conveniently wearing white. Her sister will make an equally lovely bridesmaid in Christmas red. The pastor who has attempted to perform her prior weddings is there.

“What are you doing here, Father/Pastor So and So?”

Her dad is in a tux.

“Dad, why are you in a tux?”

“Because we’re in a Hallmark Christmas movie, Jessie. Shit’s about to get real.”

Well, look-y here! Who do we have? It’s Aiden. He’s in a tuxedo, too! What is going on? And why do you have Jake the dog jumping up and down all over you in your spiffy dress up clothes, Aiden? You probably guessed it by now- Aiden has adopted the dog that was returned, the one he valiantly defended causing Jessie to realize how much she loved him. He tells Jessie he loves her and wants to marry her, and by golly this dog has a real family now because it’s not just Aiden’s dog, it’s Jessie’s too (yeah, I think I forgot to mention the part about Jessie always wanting a dog but someone in the family was allergic)! This particular wedding (her fourth, if you’re keeping score) goes off without a hitch.

I don’t know where they got the little veil. Maybe her mom purchased it when she was busy planning Jessie’s wedding behind her back.

I know it’s a movie and it’s not supposed to make sense, or rather, dwell in reality, but come on! Why is Hallmark so intent on marrying off people? These people had known each other for weeks! He asked her out in order to win a bet. She broke off three prior engagements (to be fair I believe that possibly with the other weddings she never made it to the actual wedding day; I think they were canceled before then.) and she’s just walking down the aisle on Christmas Eve, marrying a guy she said she never wanted to see again a week earlier? It wasn’t even a spur of the moment, “Let’s get married! We’ll run down to the courthouse or fly to Vegas!” This was an ambush wedding! It would be like someone inviting you over for Thanksgiving dinner and when you show up your wedding is set up for you and the host announces, “Meet your groom! Let’s do this!” And you do.

I do have to admit I’m a sucker for a dog. It is possible that I would marry a guy if he showed up and offered me a dog. With the caveat that I had to marry him in order to get the dog, of course. Possible. Not 100%. Honestly, come to think of it, I think the only part of that wedding that made sense was the dog.

So that was it for me. I did watch three others but I’m not going to write about them. Nothing outrageous happened. Now that we’ve got Direct Stream I’m pretty sure I get the Hallmark channel so I can watch these movies whenever I want. I plan to immerse myself in them this Christmas, even if they are ridiculous at times. 127 days until Christmas!

Many, Many Moons Ago

How long is a moon anyway? Are we talking each individual moon that shows up each night? Are we talking only about a new moon? A full moon? I’m so confused.

August 10th came and went without any notice from me. It’s been 7 years since I found out Jerry Lee was cheating on me with that trash bag I call Harley. 7 years. I did not register the date at all.

In 2016 my whole life had imploded. I had just moved back to Indiana. I had no job. I was a mess. In 2017 I brought a cake into work. Celebrated my freedom from a fuckwit with that cake. Beyond that I don’t really recall doing anything or thinking anything about that date.

Tomorrow is the 14th. That will mark 9 years since I got the message from The Saint, letting me know Jerry Lee was still “talking” to Harley. I plan on taking my mom and Picasso to Cracker Barrel. Maybe I’ll buy some Christmas decorations. They’re probably out by now. Maybe I’ll buy a cute sweatshirt. Maybe I’ll just buy breakfast. Who knows?

I once vowed to buy myself something very expensive every year on August 14th. That was while I was still with Jerry Lee. I like the idea, even today; however, if the date is ever going to become a non-entity I can’t make a point of buying myself something on that date, can I?

I think for this year I’m set. I bought my Hokas and computer in May. I got a grill and some new patio furniture this summer. I think I’m good.

Best part? I’m free of him. Happy Freedom Day even if you don’t remember what day it is!

A Star Is Born

Has anyone seen the movie? I know it’s been a while since it came out. I knew it was a remake. What I didn’t realize is the original movie came out in 1937! Janet Gaynor played the title role in the original. It’s been remade three times now- 1954 with Judy Garland, 1976 with Barbra Streisand, and 2018 with Lady Gaga.

There are some subtle differences, although the second film is pretty much a play by play remake of the first one; the characters even have the same names. In the first two movies the female lead comes to Hollywood to become an actress; while attempting to find fame she ends up meeting and falling in love with a Hollywood actor who helps her with her big break. The third movie switches things up and since this was the rockin’ 70s both characters are now singers. The 2018 movie followed this format as well. In the first two movies the female lead ends up winning an Academy Award for Best Actress. In the second two movies the female lead wins a Grammy.

SPOILER ALERT: Look away now if you haven’t seen the movies but still plan on doing so at some point.

The other difference between movies 1& 2, vs. 3 and 4, is the method of suicide the male lead chooses. The first two movies he drowns himself, the third movie he deliberately crashes his car, and the fourth movie he hangs himself.

And finally, we have the names. In the original and the first movie the female lead, Esther Blodgett, is re-named Vicki Lester, which was what was done back then in Hollywood. All the leading ladies were given new names. I’m assuming in the 1976 version the female lead, Esther Hoffman, went by her actual name- Esther Hoffman- as she was rising in fame, although honestly, the plot synopsis does not even bother with a last name for her. In the 2018 version they don’t even bother to give Ally any last name prior to her marriage. At the end of the 1937 and 1954 movies the female lead introduces herself as, “Mrs. Norman Maine,” while the end of the 1976 movie sees the female lead being introduced as Esther Hoffman-Howard and the 2018 female lead introduces herself as Ally Maine.

I’m sure you’re wondering what my point is to all of this so I’ll get to it. Soon. First though let me disclose that I have never actually seen any of the versions of this movie. I planned on going to see the 2018 version but never got around to it. But I can Google and Wikipedia gives you a nice little synopsis of what happened. Saves you about two hours of your time.

Here’s the point: Every single one of these versions begins with a famous, powerful man whose career is on the decline due to his alcoholism. He discovers a young ingenue and through the break he gives her she becomes famous in her own right. In fact, her fame eclipses his because he was already on the way down due to his own behavior. He acts like a jackass during her big moment, whether it’s the Academy Awards version or the Grammy version. He goes to rehab. She’s willing to throw away her career to take care of him. And then he kills himself. Ostensibly to save his wife and prevent her from throwing away her career for him.

It suddenly occurred to me, especially after writing about Lorrie Morgan and Keith Whitley, that this is a load of bullshit that Hollywood and our culture wraps up and tries to sell to us as “romantic.”

What in the hell is romantic about this notion that any woman who is more successful than her husband will ultimately drive him to suicide? Because that’s the bottom line. That is the message. Your success will kill him! He’s on his way down and you’re on your way up and if you continue with that he will DIE! I realize the plot line is that he is killing himself to save her career, but honestly, is that any better?

I suppose we could forgive the 1937 and 1954 versions. Did they really know any better? Probably not. 1976 version is a little iffy. We were trying. We were attempting to break through those stereotypes, crash through the glass ceilings. But we weren’t all the way there yet. But 2018? Come on!

In every single version the wife knew her husband had a problem and she was going to give up her career, or at the very least, put it on hold, so that she could take care of her husband. Because that’s what women are supposed to do. We put our time and energy into others- our husbands, our kids- and we give ourselves any left over scraps that may be available.

If you have a career and your husband/boyfriend/partner needs you, you are expected to put your own best interests aside in order to assist him. It’s not just the rich and famous. It’s every female.

How many stories have you read about a woman giving up her career to take care of a chronically sick child? Giving up her career in order to support her husband’s career? Or even actually working to put her husband through school and then when it’s her turn he refuses, OR, he encourages her to be a stay at home mom while he works until he dumps her 20 years later?

We moved across the country for Jerry Lee’s happiness. Only his. Fuck me. Fuck his kids. He was unhappy so we all uprooted our lives for him. Because he was the breadwinner. Does anyone think that if I had a job that started going places that we would have moved for MY job? Hmmm…. considering he didn’t understand why I continued to work after Rock Star was born because “he made enough money,” I think I can safely say we would NOT have moved for any job I had.

You hear hundreds, if not thousands, of these stories. Women are expected to put everyone else before themselves. And don’t you dare eclipse your husband because that might make him feel bad. And if you scale back, to make him feel better, he might kill himself.

How many people speculate that someone’s marriage fell apart because the woman was too focused on her career? And now ask yourself how many times the speculation happens because the man was too focused on his career? Men are supposed to focus on their career. Women are supposed to focus on their men. And if we don’t…. well, let’s just say bad things can happen.

When Jerry Lee got sick he actually expected me to stay at home with him and take care of him. Obviously this was the beginning of our marriage when I worked full time. He ended up calling me at work to tell me he had fainted- THREE TIMES- and I, like a fool, ended up leaving work to go tend to the big baby. God forbid he simply stay in bed like a normal person.

When the doctor finally found my ectopic pregnancy after weeks of searching for it and told me I couldn’t leave the office until I had made a decision between getting the methotrexate shot or surgery, guess who couldn’t leave work? Jerry Lee! He was in the middle of a meeting with a very, very important client and he could not leave. I’m not sure when I would have been wheeled back into surgery had I chosen that option, but I’m also not sure if even that would have motivated him to excuse himself from his meeting and come be with me. If he wouldn’t leave to be with me during surgery he definitely wasn’t going to leave to be with me when I got a shot in the ass. Oh, I would be fine doing that by myself. As always.

It’s an interesting juxtaposition and a whole load of bullshit this way that everyone tells you that a man isn’t responsible for supporting you financially but at the same time they expect you to put him ahead of yourself. They lose their ever loving minds when a woman says, “Yeah, I’m going to concentrate on me. Things are going really well for me right now. Sounds like you need to work out your own shit. Call me when you’ve got that straightened out.”

In every version the woman is completely aware that this man has issues. In the first two the problem is alcohol. In the second two movies the problem is drugs and alcohol. And yet, in every single version she marries him.

Yet another fantasy where the love of a good woman surely will be enough to save him. Only it doesn’t. Because no one is responsible for another adult. You can’t force them to save themselves. You can’t will them to make good decisions. You can only draw firm boundaries and know what you will accept.

Towards the end of the movie, in all four versions, when the male lead is no longer getting offers for work it is the woman who is willing to offer him a helping hand. She wants to star in a movie together or go on tour together, despite the fact that he is, at this point, a walking disaster that will bring her career down. But she loves him and she’s willing to do anything to help him, even if it’s to her detriment.

Don’t even get me started on the ending of the movie where all four versions end with the woman being introduced as an extension of her dead husband.

“I’m Mrs. Norman Maine.”

Not Vicki Lester. Not Esther Blodgett. Not a fucking Academy Award winning actress. No, she’s Mrs. Norman Maine. Widow of an alcoholic who threw his own career away. Oh, I’m sorry. I meant to say she is the grieving widow of the famous, esteemed actor Norman Maine. Let me list his many accomplishments now and completely forget any of hers.

And Esther Hoffman went on to become Esther Hoffman-Howard, in honor of her dead husband, and Ally, poor Ally with absolutely no last name that could be found in my brief Google search, introduces herself as Ally Maine in the last scene. Not Ally Smith, Grammy award winner for Best New Artist. Ally Maine. Their relationships consume them even when the husband is dead.

I know it’s supposed to be a touching tribute. I’m sure at one point I might have thought so myself. But it’s not. It’s once again making everything in a woman’s life about her partner. These women were famous. They had lucrative careers. They did something with their lives. And yet, they will be known for the men that left them behind. All of their accomplishments have been reduced to marrying a famous man. They are merely an extension of the man they loved and lost.

We can do better than this.