I Don’t Look Good In Orange

The saga of the checks continues on. I got another one today. That makes it #8. Or, #6 if you subtract the two where Cousinfucker STOPPED PAYMENT on them.

So…. I had pretty much decided to take the next checks I got to his bank and cash them there. Only a funny thing happened. I noticed that this was not yet another envelope from his company. (Yes, he’s been using company envelopes to send his checks so I wouldn’t have his address even though they’re on the damn checks!) No, there was a new return address which was strange in and of itself because he has spent most of his time going out of his way to not let me know his address.

My mom ended up googling the address. Turns out Cousinfucker and the whore have moved into a beautiful 2800 sq. ft. brick home in a new city. It’s listed for $286,000 and has a rental price of $1800/month.

This is the same cousinfucker that is supposedly so broke he can’t pay his court ordered $3600/month. And yet he and the whore and her fucking hooligans can suddenly up and move into a new house. Must be nice to be a lying, cheating sack of shit with absolutely no conscience.

We all know, don’t we, that come the day of the divorce trial he’s going to be arguing that he can’t possibly be expected to pay any kind of spousal or child support. He’s got this new family to support! He’s got bills! He’s got a new house payment (although I’m fairly certain they are renting and not buying) and it’s even more than the rent on the old house. Hell, I’ll probably find out he’s bought new cars for all of them. Why not? It’s not like he has any actual bills to pay!

To add insult to this shit sundae I find out they have now opened up a new joint checking account. So now I won’t be able to verify that he has the funds or hasn’t stopped payment on the checks he has written.

The mobster has been a great source of comfort and sanity. “He’s just trying to push your buttons, cutie,” he tells me over and over. I tell myself, “You won’t look good in orange, Sam, and you can’t get your hair highlighted in prison.”

The Past, Present and Future

The four year anti-versary of finding out that CF was still fucking around with Harley after a summer of degrading myself to win him back was just the other day. Four long years. I should have showed him to the curb that very day. Instead I forgave him and tried to work through it. I moved 2000 miles across the country. I uprooted my kids lives to make him happy. And in the end none of it mattered because he started fucking around with the whore again. This time he left me. He left all of us.

You know what’s funny about it though? I don’t care. Just like the 2 year anniversary of my final D-Day didn’t affect me this year, the four year anniversary didn’t affect me either. It is what it is. I’m hoping that next year I won’t notice the dates at all. That’s not really likely though. I have a great memory. I can, however, let it roll off my back like water off a duck’s back.

My kids started back to school. Picasso began his freshman year of high school and Rock Star began her senior year. Wow!

Sixteen years ago we had moved to a new home in a new state. Rock Star was almost a year old. I saw signs for graduation open houses all over the neighborhood. I remember lamenting to CF, “That’s going to be Rock Star one day!” He told me that she wasn’t even one yet; we still had plenty of time.

Guess what? Time’s up. I’ve got 9 more months with her. She wants to go to college back west so I really will be losing her. 9 more months with this beautiful, funny, sweet, amazing girl of mine. Her dad is missing it all. He lost her 2 years ago. This spring those signs are going to be for her. We’ve got senior pictures scheduled. She’s taking the SAT again next weekend. I’m going to do my best to enjoy this time with her.

And…. CF sent me yet another check for his ridiculous $555.55. I emailed my lawyer the other day to let her know I was up to 5 checks. Now I’m up to 6. I asked her if there was any news about the show-cause hearing. I’m just waiting to hear that there is no point in having a separate hearing because it won’t happen until right before our divorce hearing.

On one hand it would save me money to not have to make yet another trip out there and to pay my lawyer for her time. On the other hand he is once again getting away with financial rape.

His lifestyle hasn’t changed at all while ours has changed tremendously. I’ve done the math. He brings home over $6000 a month. I’ve seen the bank records. She brings home $5000 a month. And she receives child support from her cheated on ex. I would imagine she probably receives around $1000/month for 4 kids. If he keeps sending me a check every week then he’s paying me $2200 a month. They live on approximately $10,000 a month. My kids and I live on less than $3500. That seems fair, don’t you think?

So, the options become take him back to court and spend money I don’t really have to try to make him pay when the judge seems reluctant to put him in jail and CF doesn’t seem to give a flying fuck about court orders. Or continue to let him flit about, living his same old lifestyle, blowing money on that fucking whore and kids that aren’t his, and letting him get away with not paying me.

I’ll admit it galls me. I hate that he’s suffering no consequences. His life is going on almost exactly as before. He’s got his new and improved wife and his new and improved (and expanded number of) kids. He’s got no bills except car insurance and a cell phone. She was perfectly able to pay all the household bills on her own before he came along. Which means the two fuckwits are living with an extra five grand each month to just spend on whatever.

Meanwhile, I’m working full-time for $11/hour. I bring home approximately $1400/month. I can’t take my kids to their doctor’s appointments. I missed Picasso’s middle school graduation. I still don’t have much time to get shit done because most of it needs to be done during the day and I’m at work. I can’t volunteer at their school.  All so I can go to work for basically slave wages. It sure as hell isn’t providing a nice lifestyle for us, and if I didn’t live with my mom I’d be living in a homeless shelter because it definitely isn’t enough to pay all my bills and pay rent and utilities.

I suppose that’s yet another rope I’ll have to learn to drop. He lives high on the hog and my kids and I live in poverty until I can finally find something that pays better.

I know it’s not very “meh” of me. The mobster likes to point out to me that I’m still tied very tightly to CF because of the money situation. Believe me I’d love to make enough that I could tell him to go shove it up his ass. But I don’t, and until the divorce is finalized I can’t seem to get a garnishment so he’s free to keep playing with me.

Anyway, on to the future and better things ahead, right?

My Bitch List, Part 13

Ah yes, life with the wife and kids versus life with the whore and her kids. And more end of the relationship shit. Again, a lot of this was written while it was happening and I haven’t changed the verb tenses so if it seems suspicious that we’re still living together… well, we’re not. It’s in the past although not far enough in the past to please me.

    • I sat in on a therapy session with him, the therapist and I both coaching him on getting through the drive for his so called business trip.  Yes, that’s right.  I coached him so that he was able to drive off and go fuck a whore.
    • Another stupid move on my part: He started coming home at lunch because he was pissed off at his boss. Apparently, he wanted to skip lunch and leave work more along the lines of 4 or 4:30. His boss expected him to stay until 5. CF mentioned to me that the only reason they stayed so long was because they all took a 2 hour lunch. So he started coming home for his 2 hours. I would go upstairs and sit with him while he answered emails or watched TV, or more importantly, texted and sexted with the whore. Such a good dutiful wife.
    • I find out he’s siphoned off thousands of dollars in marital assets to give to the whore, has spent hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars on her each month, has bought her a diamond ring and bought her kids a puppy, bought her and her daughter new iPhone 6s and is paying their cell phone bill, cashed in stock, opened a separate account, and has just generally been a dickhead.  He then has the nerve to tell me that this can still be civil.  Yeah, right!
    • Later I found out he could spend over $300 on a prom/dance type dress for Harley’s daughter but he couldn’t give me $80 for a dress for his own child.  Also saw his charge card statement for Christmas- hundreds of dollars spent at Ulta, Francesca’s, American Eagle, Dick’s Sporting Good, Walmart… so nice to know he’s got extra money.
    • That same month, when he didn’t have money to pay his share of the household bills, and didn’t have money to buy his daughter a homecoming dress, he managed to have enough money to buy an approximately $4200 engagement ring for his home wrecking whore. She/He/They also spent almost $200 at Vera Bradley, over $400 at some sports store (for her kids, no doubt), hundreds on vision care, over $400 on Harley’s utilities, and more than $1500 on Harley’s lawyer so she could get her divorce. That was all in one month. Glad to see he has his priorities straight!
    • He couldn’t go out to dinner with either of his kids for their birthday because of his “issues” yet somehow he has no problem going out to eat with his dysfunctional family, his whore, or her kids.  Nice.
    • He lives here during the week and waltzes off every weekend to go be with his whore.  He is beyond bold about this.  It is more like a slap in the face.  A big “fuck you!” to all of us.
    • 30 minutes after I tell him I know he’s fucking his cousin and giving her money he asks me if we’re still having spaghetti for dinner.  And then later that evening asks again.  When I tell him no he has the nerve to ask me what there is to eat around here.
    • When his whore posts on Facebook how she is having such a sleepless night because she misses the comfort she’s grown so accustomed to my daughter flips out and sends him an angry text.  He ends up trying to turn it all around into how he’s the poor put upon victim.  He’s not welcome.  He pays all the bills.  He starves while we eat.  I guess the dumb shit is actually waiting for me to bring him a fucking plate of food still!  She never posted that!  I don’t know what you saw or what someone told you but it wasn’t her!  Then when it’s proven that it was indeed her he says he wasn’t trying to lie and he had never seen that and then continues on with his victim stance.
    • The bastard accused me of stealing every dime he makes.  Fuck you!
    • Over the course of 4 months, from the beginning of September until the end of December, he had access to approximately $30,000. He had no bills- no cell phone, no car payment (I had made the final payment with the money he believed he would owe me), no car insurance (I paid that), no rent or mortgage, no utilities. I point this out because that $30k he had access to was all fun money. By the end of December he had a little over $600 in the account. At one point there was just over $100 in it. And he wants to talk about me spending money? At least when it was me our kids had everything they needed and most of what they wanted.
    • He continues to try to justify his affair to our children.  He even told our daughter that I “didn’t take care of him.”  Oh please!  Is that why she tells me, “Mom, I would have left him years ago!  I wouldn’t have put up with half of what you put up with,”?

A Huge Pity Party Mystery Update

I’m going to be honest. There is no “huge pity party mystery update.” There is, however, a pity party going on (when isn’t there one going on when it comes to CF?), a mystery that has been solved, and an update. I needed to consolidate my title. Instead of A Huge Pity Party, a Mystery Solved, and an Update I mashed it together. Catchy, huh?

First, the update. Picasso finally got his Christmas card and gift card. CF came through and wasn’t a total dickhead to his son. Why it got here so much later than Rock Star’s is a mystery I won’t try to untangle.

Second, the mystery solved. Tammy Faye and Pastor Fake sent the kids a little something for Christmas as well. Tammy Faye went on to say that she hadn’t been well and they had moved into a handicap apartment. I’m not sure how that differs from their previous apartment seeing as how it was a single floor with 2 bedrooms. Maybe the bathroom is more handicap friendly. I don’t know; I don’t care. For shits and giggles I checked the return address on the card. What do you know? The address is the same one CF used as his return address.

Again I ask why? What is the big deal with using his correct address? Does he think I don’t know her address? Does he think he’s somehow keeping his location a big secret from me because I don’t deserve to know where my husband is living? Surprise! I know her address. It was listed in the actual court documents when I named the whore in our divorce proceedings.

Does he think that if he doesn’t list her address then his kids might be fooled into thinking that he’s not living with her or isn’t still with her? Um… it might help if you took down the picture of you posing with the bitch as your FB profile picture. Otherwise, this just looks desperate and sad.

Speaking of desperate and sad, here comes the third part- the huge pity party. What else is new, right? I told you the house is being sold at a foreclosure sale. My cousin is interested in buying the house for her daughter but doesn’t think she’ll have the funds. She contacted CF to ask him how much was owed on the house. He responds: My kids won’t talk to me, I’m bankrupt, and I’m on all these medications. But that’s not your problem….

Now granted, I don’t have this word for word but I’m sure it’s very close. Hell, maybe she did make an offhand comment about “hope you’re doing well” or “sorry to hear about the house.” Ultimately though she was inquiring about how much was owed. And his response is to pour out all his problems- TO MY DAMN COUSIN! Maybe he’s hoping to sleep with her as well. Maybe it’s not enough to sleep with his own cousin; maybe he’s hoping to sleep with my cousin, too. Maybe he has a cousin fetish.

He is ALWAYS THE VICTIM! His kids won’t talk to him, he’s on various medications, and he’s bankrupt. Don’t you feel sorry for him? I’m a kind hearted person. Normally, I would feel sorry for someone like this. Until I realized that he DROVE THE DAMN BUS RIGHT OFF THE CLIFF himself!

I told him back in 2013 that Rock Star would hate Harley and that she would never accept her kids. I told him this point blank. There was no beating around the bush, no euphemisms, no hesitation whatsoever. Rock Star will hate her! Plain as day. I know my daughter. I have been a little surprised about her willingness to stay in contact with him and her apparent dismay at not having a father in her life, but I think that may be simply due to the fact that he’s abandoned them which is always a tough pill to swallow whether you want that person in your life or not.

He knew that if he ever left he was risking his relationship with his kids. He said himself that he told Harley the kids were much closer to me than to him. He admitted to me when I told him Rock Star would hate Harley that he figured as much. When I told him there would be no fucked up version of the Brady Bunch between her kids and mine he agreed.

All that notwithstanding, what the hell did he think was going to happen when he moved them across the country, torpedoed their lives for this new job of his, and then turned around and upended their lives again a year later? Did he think they were going to thank him? What did he think was going to happen when he left every weekend to go be with Harley and her kids? When he could socialize with them and play Daddy of the Year to them but couldn’t be bothered with his own children? How did he think they were going to react when he moved out of the house and out of the state without bothering to even mention it to them, much less say goodbye?

As a small aside Rock Star informed me that he sent her a FB friend request. She ignored it. She said she wasn’t going to decline it because then he would have something to play victim about.

The last time Picasso mentioned his dad he called him a cock. That boy is stone cold. I would not ever want to get on his bad side.

He’s heavily medicated? Fucking your cousin will do that to a person. Maybe stop doing that and you’ll feel better. I don’t know what to tell you, dude. You’ve made some bad life choices. Sounds like those choices are coming home to roost and you’re dealing with the consequences. Sucks to be you.

You know what else? I don’t really care, not even little bit, about your mental health now. I don’t give a shit if you’re trying to get better now. Now for another woman and her kids. I needed you to get better before. I needed you to get better so that you could be a husband and a partner to me. I don’t care how you’re doing for her. I hope you’re doing awful, quite honestly. I needed you to get better so that you could be a decent father to our own children. I don’t care one little bit how you treat hers. I cared about you getting better when it would affect our family for the better. Now that you’ve chosen her and her brood I don’t care if you ever get better. I hope you don’t. Let her deal with the fallout for the next twenty years.

He’s bankrupt? Wow- who would have ever seen that one coming? Again, you’ve made some bad life choices. You walked away from a house you’d owned less than a year. You watched them put an insanely expensive inground pool in your backyard, knowing you were going to leave your family for a whore and her kids. You furnished almost your entire house with new furniture. Maybe it was the fact that you had a brand new pussy wagging in your face that kept you distracted but all of those things- the new house, new pool, new car, new furniture- were some of the very first things I thought about when I found out you were cheating again. How the hell would we be able to sell the house and not lose our asses? That was a huge concern of mine. Again, I’m sure you were much more focused on fucking your cousin than on worrying about what was going to happen when we tried to sell a house that we had been paying on less than a year.

You had a wife of twenty years who had followed you around the country and been a stay at home mom since your daughter was an infant. How did you not seeing spousal support coming? Again, that’s another one of those things I tackled straight out of the gate. What can I expect to receive in child and spousal support and how do they calculate that shit? I know; I know. When a whore is sucking your dick you don’t give much thought to those sorts of things. It will all work itself out and besides, hey, you’re getting a blow job!

You had a pool loan and credit card debt. Oh, that was another thing I checked on- how spousal debt was split up. Guess you were busy getting busy with the whore and didn’t inquire. You gave your wife less than $5000/month and expected her to pay all of the bills out of that, including the $2100/month mortgage, the car payment for her new car, the car insurance for both of you, both credit cards, all the utilities, and a $341/month pool loan. There wasn’t enough left over after paying all the bills for her to buy groceries or dog food but instead of giving her more you just told her to use the money she had put aside. You know, the money that was earmarked to pay off the pool. Instead of splitting the household expenses which would have meant your wife didn’t have to use the pool money, which in turn meant that you wouldn’t have had to pay an additional $15,000 out of your bonus check to pay off the remainder of the pool, you chose to put your remaining paycheck, almost $5000/month, into a separate checking account that you shared with the whore. I did warn you that it would be considered a marital debt and that it would have to be paid off. You did screw me, however, seeing as how you got to pay the remainder from your bonus check and then split the proceeds with me, instead of having to split the bonus check and then you paying the rest of it off. Of course, if you did have an additional $7500 the whore would have just blown through it. But, I would possibly be in a better situation with an extra $7500. Oh what am I saying? You don’t give a shit about me and your kids and how we’re struggling.

You took a $5000 loan out against your 401k, and even knowing that it needed to be paid off before you left the company or penalties would apply, you quit your job of 15 years. You cashed in all of the remaining stock you had been given and in quitting 6 months later, you walked away from tens of thousands in unvested stocks.

In four months she (or the two of you) went through approximately $30,000. You bought such necessary items as a $4200 engagement ring, a $300 formal dress for a child that wasn’t yours, over $400 in sports equipment (just in September), almost $200 at Vera Bradley, hundreds in eye care, almost $1000 paying the whore’s utilities, and over $800 for Christmas gifts for children that weren’t yours. Between January and June you took in approximately $27,000 after paying your court ordered support and according to your bank records there was only $3000 in your account at the end of June. Of course, Harley was contributing right around $5000/month, too so I’m not sure we should even say YOU had $3000 left over. Between you two idiots you had $3000 left over and that’s only because you didn’t pay a dime in support that month. You should have had nothing left once support was paid but I guess Harley wouldn’t have been able to spend to her little heart’s desire had you paid half of your support that month. It was much more important that she get whatever she and her kids wanted, rather than you provide anything your kids might need.

I have to give a shout out to Totally Caroline because she definitely saw this one coming. I really thought he’d keep it together at least until Harley dumped him. He likes having money. He likes being a big shot. More importantly, she likes having money and what he was handing over to her was easily doubling her income. Even once he began paying court ordered support he was still able to offer her around $3000/month.

I have to just shake my head in amazement. He wants everyone to see him as a victim and yet he is completely unable to comprehend that he went down this path willingly. Did it play out the way he expected? Oh, probably not. I’m sure he thought he was going to pay me a lousy $5000/month and get to walk away from all of our joint responsibilities. I would pay all the bills, take care of the kids, the pets, and go get a full time job working for peanuts to pay for groceries, gas, household staples, and any other extras. Meanwhile, he would have $5000 to blow on absolutely nothing. It would all be fun money. If you recall he had no bills. His car was paid for, his cell phone bill was paid for by his company (until he quit), and I paid the insurance on his car. Ooh, lightbulb moment! That is probably what he thought would happen and why he sees himself as my hapless victim. It doesn’t matter that he did this to himself. It doesn’t matter that he miscalculated screwing me in that particular way. No, the only thing that matters to him is that things didn’t work out the way he thought they were going to so now he’s a victim.

Take heart, Cousinfucker. Every time you begin to whine about all the medication, the financial disaster, and the fact that your kids will have nothing to do with you you can take comfort in the fact that Harley is right there by your side, probably down on her knees. How can you possibly be unhappy when you have your soul mate, the person who makes you happy, by your side forever? Victim? Oh gosh no! I’d say you’re the victor!

Sue Heck’s Dad Rocks

Do any of you watch The Middle?  I do and I find it hilarious. Interesting fact… way back when it first premiered (the same year as Modern Family) I wasn’t going to watch it. For whatever reason it didn’t appeal to me in the beginning. I don’t know why, but I gave it a chance. It truly is a funny show.

Anyway, if you’ve never seen it it’s a family sitcom about the Hecks, a working class family living in Orson, IN. Mike works at the quarry and Frankie is a dental assistant. They have three children- Axl, Sue, and Brick. Unlike most sitcoms where the families are always upper middle class with fabulous lives the Hecks are always struggling. In the last year or so Mike and his brother started a college logo diaper business together. Say what? Yes, the diapers have the name of a college team on the outside and then their rival’s name is on the inside of the diaper. You know, so you can shit or piss all over your opponent. It’s actually becoming a profitable business and for the first time ever the Hecks have a little wiggle room. I give you all of this background information because it’s important to this past week’s storyline and how Mike rocks.

Sue is the middle child. Often forgotten by others she remains an eternal optimist. In high school she tried out for everything (although she rarely made the team) and in general she is just a cheerful, good natured, see the best in every situation type of girl. She’s now beginning her second year of college. She applied for and received financial aid for all four years of college. Unfortunately for her she needed to fill out her financial aid forms each year and she forgot. She gets to school and finds out she’s been dropped due to non-payment and she’s told there’s no way to reinstate the financial aid for this year; if she wants to attend classes she will have to pay the entire balance.

Naturally, Sue is freaking out. She runs home and tells her parents what is going on and Mike, who is generally very stoic and hands off, volunteers to talk to the bursar, probably in no small part because Frankie threatens to burn the place down.

Before they go in he warns Sue that she’s going to see him do things he’s not very proud of. He puts on the charm and does his best to convince her to give Sue a chance to fill out the paperwork so her aid can be reinstated. For Mike, this is huge. He’s sucking up. He’s handing out compliments. He’s acting all folksy and charming; however, it doesn’t work.

Sue is devastated. As she’s packing up her room her roommate asks her what she’s going to do. Sue replies that she’ll move back in with her parents and go back to work at Spudsies for the year. As Sue and Lexie are talking about how much they’re going to miss each other and Sue is listing all of the things she’s going to miss about college life she gets a notification on her computer. She’s back in! She’s been reinstated and is now registered for classes. She and Lexie jump around and shriek with joy. Hooray! The bursar must have taken pity on her and all the sucking up her dad did must have paid off.

Later, we see Mike and Frankie talking. She tells him that he must have been persuasive because Sue is once again enrolled at East Indiana State. He confesses that he didn’t convince the bursar; she wouldn’t budge. There was no financial aid. He paid the entire balance by selling his half of the diaper business. Frankie questions him about selling his half, knowing he loved it and it was going to be their nest egg. “Why?” she asks him, and he replies simply, “It’s Sue.”

Maybe you need to be a regular viewer to fully understand it, but when he spoke that one simple line it brought tears to my eyes.

Here is this man who has spent years struggling to provide for his family. His daughter messes up and forgets to fill out her financial aid forms again and will have to spend the year at home instead of being at school. So he does the only thing he can do if he wants her to continue on- he sells his half of the diaper business, the only thing of value he has.

He was willing to give up his nest egg to make his daughter’s dreams come true. Why? Because she’s Sue, the always happy, perpetually optimistic middle child.

I know this is a fictional character and yet I can’t help comparing him to CF. CF would never make such a sacrifice for either of his kids. He moved out of state and didn’t bother to inform his kids. He has visited those children exactly zero times since moving yet could make the drive every weekend when he had to drive down to see Harley. Sell off a valued business venture, or anything of value to help them out? Oh please! He’s far too busy trying to impress Harley and her kids to bother with his own. The entire time he pocketed almost $5000/month and had no bills he never once gave his kids anything extra aside from their allowances. Harley was quite busy spending his money on her own kids and making sure they got every advantage of his money but he didn’t bother with doing anything extra for his two. He couldn’t afford $80 for his own daughter’s Homecoming dress. He was so eager to get closer to Harley that he walked away from tens of thousands in unvested stock. He quit not one but two jobs in a four month span. He left his kids without health insurance. He forced them out of their home. He forced them to relocate once again, a mere two years after uprooting them and systematically dismantling their lives. He stood by and let his daughter transfer high schools her junior year. She got screwed out of her driver’s license because of his selfish behavior. That’s the father I gave my own children.

Mike Heck may not be real but he’s a better father than CF will ever be. Mike, when asked why he would sell something important to him, shrugs his shoulders and replies simply, “It’s Sue.” CF, if asked why he would do all that he has done to his children, would undoubtedly reply, “It’s all about me! I deserve to be happy.”

A Conversation With Rock Star

“Mom, do YOU think he’s crazy?”

I pause, giving great thought to this question my daughter has just asked.  She has already freely said she believes her dad is legitimately crazy.  She’s not a psychiatrist though so I’m not sure how much stock to put into her diagnosis.  After weighing my words carefully I give her my answer.

“No, I don’t think he’s crazy.  I think he’s living in a fantasy world.  I don’t know for certain where he’s working but I do know his big dream was to work side by side with his best friend.  He once told me he should have taken the job at Best Friend’s plant when Best Friend tried to get him to come work with him and that was one of his biggest regrets.  If I had to bet I would place money on the fact that Best Friend managed to get him a job at his company and they are now working together.  So he thinks he has his dream job and he thinks he has his dream woman.”

She turns up her nose at that comment.  I can’t say that I blame her.  But he does. I don’t tell her this part but he thinks that Harley and her performance are the real thing.  She loves him for who he is and she would never be with him for the money.  Oh no!  That was the evil, awful Sam who stuck around for the money.  Harley is going to be the perfect mate.  She’ll text him every time she takes a shit and let him know all about it.  She’ll tell him how handsome he is and coo over every little thing he does.  Best of all, every weekend it’s nonstop sex!

Here’s the thing.  I’m sure that for a period of time, maybe even a decent period of time, this will play out just fine.  He will live far enough away from her that he can’t live with her, thereby giving him four days to decompress and do whatever he wants.  Then for 3 days (2 1/2 if we want to be technical) he puts on his Dad of the Year/Companion of the Year mask and is all smiles and grand gestures.  When things start to bother him it’s time to return back to his home where he can chill in front of the television, drink some wine, and not have to deal with anyone.  He doesn’t have to help her get kids to activities.  He doesn’t have to help with homework.  He doesn’t have any of the daily grind you have when you actually live with someone day after day.  But eventually the newness will wear off.  It’s also quite possible that he will find out sooner, rather than later, that the love of his life is cheating on him.  Ouch! Again, not things I say out loud to her.

I do go on to tell her that I think eventually his perfect fantasy life is going to implode.  His best friend has switched companies quite a few times and I don’t see them staying at the same company, together, for another fifteen to twenty years.  I also don’t see Cousinfucker taking it too well when and if Best Friend becomes his boss.  I also don’t see Best Friend taking it too well if the situation was reversed.  I think they have this vision of what life is going to be like, them working together, and I don’t think reality is going to play out anywhere close to this dream of theirs.  They are two alpha males and I see them either clashing with one another, or them trying to take down their boss, which probably won’t go over well with him.  Even if my theory that he’s working with Best Friend is incorrect and he’s actually working somewhere completely different the same rules apply.  He will love it at first and then when he doesn’t get to dictate every single thing he’s going to begin pouting and decide he hates it.  Only now he’s stuck.

What I say to her in summation is that once the newness of his relationship wears off and he realizes what kind of a person Harley is, and once he realizes that working with Best Friend isn’t the dream he believes it will be, I think he is going to look back at everything he has given up- his wife of over 20 years, his two kids, a job that he’s held for more than 15 years, and he’s going to realize how severely he has screwed himself.

At this point in my “journey” I’m not sure if I’d rather see that day arrive and smirk knowingly, gleeful at his misery, or if I would prefer to truly not give a damn and just be able to shake my head and say, “Sucks to be you.”  Only time will tell, I suppose.

Is My New Lawyer Psychic?

I saw another lawyer last week.  I liked her and I decided to switch.  I have many reasons for making the switch but key among them would be communication and the fact that I think my previous attorney botched my case.  Not an all out, Oh my God, I’m ruined, kinda botched.  But he definitely did not do me any favors or get me the best deal possible.

First interesting moment of the conversation with her was when she told me that everything in the court order is modifiable.  And there is a lot I’d like to see modified.  The funny part though is due to Cousinfucker quitting his job and leaving the state I now have a material change in circumstances.  Of course, I can be granted anything by the court but it doesn’t mean shit if he’s going to defy the court order or believes he’s untouchable because he’s out of state.  He probably thought he was going to screw me by getting everything excluded from his annual salary except his base pay and then turning around and getting a new job with a potentially higher base pay, even if the bonuses aren’t as good.  He thought he would screw me by promising half of his bonus check and to pay off the pool with that money and then leaving his job and doing neither of those two things.  Turns out the joke’s on him because with him taking this new job I can now go back and ask to have support re-evaluated.  And this time, when he has to throw in extra to cover marital debt my attorney is going to have that excluded from spousal support.  It will show up as a contribution to the marital debt, which it is, instead of as spousal support to me.  And as far as the bonus check is concerned I still have hope that he actually received it before leaving his company, but if he didn’t I would love to drag his ass before a judge and have him explain why he agreed to something only to turn around and voluntarily resign from his job no more than six weeks later.

The second moment was when the lawyer told me she was concerned for his mental well being.  She said there were a lot of red flags coming up for her and she was very concerned that he was going to have a complete mental breakdown, especially when Harley dumps him.  I explained that two years ago when he was confiding in Jezebel about his affair he told her that Harley made him happy and I remarked that according to Harley he is Daddy of the Year and she’s never been happier.  This is where it begins to get really interesting.

She looked at me and said, “Are you really going to take her word for it?  She’s a married woman with four kids having an affair with her cousin.  He’s a paycheck to her, a sugar daddy.”

Wow!  Here is a woman who has never met me, Cousinfucker or Harley and yet she has said the exact same thing that I have said, that family members have said.  I’ll admit that sometimes I wonder if I’m wrong and that she’s not the real love of his life.  I wonder if I say she’s just a gold digging whore to make myself feel better.  But here is a woman who has seen many, many divorces over the years.  She’s been doing this a long time.  And she has made the same observation.  In many ways it’s validation.  I continue to wrestle with the idea that this is not my fault.  Rationally I know it is not.  But in my insane moments (yes, I do have those!) I keep coming back to the old, “What if I didn’t do this?  What if I did that?  Maybe I should have done this.”  This lady put it all in perspective.  I am correct!  He’s a paycheck to Harley.  She’s a desperate, gold digging mother of four who has found a sugar daddy.  I’m hoping to help him run out of sugar quite soon.

The other thing she said that really resonated was I am the one that kept him grounded.  She had already told me how there were a lot of red flags for her when I told her my story.  She then mentioned that he has this nice little fantasy life going on and once things crumble she’s not sure he’s going to be able to keep it together.  She is very worried that he will end up having a complete breakdown and lose his job.  As she put it (and I’m going to paraphrase here):  When things come crashing down you’re not going to be there to help put them back together this time.  And I have a feeling you were that person- you kept it all going, even if he refuses to acknowledge it.  Again, I have to pump my fist and shout, “Yes!”

I was indeed that person.  I don’t think he has any idea how much bullshit I put up with in order to keep things going.  I took care of the house, the pets, the kids, him.  I cooked.  I cleaned.  I did his laundry.  The man never had to put away his own clothes for crying out loud!  I washed them, dried them, folded them, and put them away!  He never had to wash a dish.  He was the pampered king.  When he would freak out over something small and insignificant I was the one being the soothing voice of reason.  I was the one who would take charge, make the phone calls, get the job done, and interact with the people.  When he got sick I was the one taking care of him, calling the doctor’s office, taking him to the doctor’s or the ER, sitting with him, running interference for him.  In short, I was awesome.  He no longer has me around to do all of those things.  I can’t be certain but I have a definite feeling that Harley is not going to do those things either.  She’s in it for the money, the good times, the attention.  She is not going to be eager to deal with the real him and she’s certainly not going to be standing by him if he ever loses his job and spirals down into a heap of self pity.

So now in addition to being left after twenty plus years, abandoned in a new town that he insisted we move to, him deserting his two children, and him quitting his job and moving out of state I also get to wait for the inevitable breakdown.  I’ve gotta be honest here.  I’m kinda looking forward to it on the one hand.  On the other hand, he’s not going to be of any use to me in a psych ward, or as an alcoholic who can’t keep a job.  It’s a real quandary, I tell you.  I’d love to see him suffer (hey, I’m only human!) but I’m beginning to think that if he suffers the kids and I will suffer as well.  What to do…. What to do….

Does Anything Make Me Mighty?

Chump Lady asked on Friday, “What Makes You Mighty?”  It is supposed to be a feel good exercise, a positive post.  You can list anything that makes you feel good, right down to the fact that you got out of bed and made breakfast for your kids despite wanting to hide in bed for weeks on end.  Usually this post would make me feel good.  It’s inspiring to see what everyone else is accomplishing post divorce.  People talk about getting great jobs, buying their own homes, taking vacations with their kids, taking up new hobbies.  It’s fun to read and it usually inspires me.  This time, though, it just depressed me.  I don’t know why.

I was all set to participate.  My minor achievement was replacing the belt on the vacuum cleaner.  That was always something I handed over to Cousinfucker.  I wasn’t sure what I was going to do when he was no longer around.  Honestly, I thought about getting rid of my vacuum cleaner!  But I did it.  That was several months ago.  I don’t feel like I’ve had anymore achievements.

I can’t buy him out of this house even if I wanted to and because of the way he spectacularly screwed us by moving us away and buying a new, more expensive house less than a year before he began his affair I’m not going to see any profits from the sale of this house. So…. I won’t be buying a new home.  In fact, the plan right now is to move back in with my mother after my daughter graduates.  I get to sell off all my brand new furniture, all my new decorations, all my Christmas stuff, my dishes, my sheets and towels, pretty much everything and move back home.  I’ll have my clothes.  Maybe my books.  Electronics.  Photo albums.  That’s my life!  Living at home with my mother, my kids not having a home of their own.  Meanwhile, I’m sure Cousinfucker is going to take his precious VA loan and buy his whore a brand new house and move her and her four kids into it.  They’ll be living better than they’ve ever lived in their lives.

I’ve spent my children’s entire lives operating as a single parent for the most part.  Cousinfucker performed 2 tasks- he would pick up our daughter from gymnastics when our son had hockey, and he would help with math homework.  While it was nice not having to leave the ice rink to go pick her up I could, and did, do it myself whenever CF was out of town.  When her state meet was the same day as his hockey tournament and the events were almost an hour apart I made arrangements on my own to get them both where they needed to be.  I can definitely manage.  Being able to handle my kids on my own is not a new achievement; it’s something I’ve done as long as I’ve had kids.  Taking my kids on vacation without CF is also not a new phenomenon.  I’ve driven 1500-2000 miles across the country without him many times, stopping along the way to break up the trip for my kids.  Again, not an achievement.  At least not a new one.

New job?  Fantastic pay raise?  Living better than him?  Nope.  I’m in a Catch-22.  If I get a job his spousal support is lowered.  I’m not doing him any favors!  I am planning on leaving this area as soon as my daughter graduates.  I don’t want to be in a position where I absolutely have to work the minute I move in with my mom.  Additionally, I have spent so much time catering to everyone else I have no idea what I’d like to do.  I don’t think I want to be a nurse even though that seems to be a popular “return to school” degree, and I’m not sure I really want to go back to school and spend more money for a degree I won’t end up using.  My mother thinks I should become an accountant. Honestly, I don’t have money to go back to school right now even if I *did* know what I want to do with my life.  Plus, I really don’t want to shake up my kids’ lives anymore than they have been.  I mean, we’ve moved them across the country, taken them away from their old lives, then they learn their father is a lying, cheating sonofabitch who is essentially abandoning them, and now they need to miss out on even more because Mommy has to go to work because Daddy won’t do a damn thing for them!  I have an outdated, never used college degree and as I’ve said before I’ve been out of the work force for 17 years now.  I am sure my prospects are bright.

As for hobbies and lots of new friends, well, I can’t afford any new hobbies and I live in BFE so my chances of meeting many new people are pretty fucking slim.  Plus, I just don’t have the energy to put on a happy face.  I was invited to a Super Bowl party today.  I was all excited to go even, and then… I wasn’t.  So I decided to stay at home.  It’s awkward enough to be in a large group when you don’t know anyone except the hosts. And it’s one thing to be surrounded by couples when you know both parties.  But when you’re being asked to meet a bunch of new people AND you’re the only one there that’s not part of a couple? No thank you.  I was definitely not up for it today.

I know this is another depressing post and I apologize.  I’m sure it will get better.  I’m just feeling sorry for myself right now.  I do that every now and then and then I get my head out of my ass and tackle the problems head on.

Things I Worry About Today

Yesterday was a melancholy day for some reason.  I thought maybe writing out some of my worries might help to alleviate them.  Worst case scenario I can look back in a year or two and laugh.  “Oh, Sam, can you believe you ever worried about *that*?”

I worry about what I’m going to do when we’re finally divorced.  I’ll have no insurance.  No prescription coverage.  No dental.  No vision.  I’m a relatively healthy person but it would be just my luck that when I have no insurance I would be suddenly hit with a catastrophic accident or illness.

I worry about the house and what’s going to happen there.  On the one hand I know I don’t want to stay here for the long term.  I’m hoping for another 2 1/2 years.  By the time we are finally divorced it will be less than 2 years I’ll need a place to stay around here.  I don’t want to be left trying to sell the house on my own.  Quite frankly I think if we end up taking a loss he should be responsible for 100% of it seeing as how it was his own bone-headed, erection-driven decisions that led to us selling 2-3 years after buying it.  I also know I absolutely cannot refinance the house in my name alone, and even if we did a quit claim (?) I’m back to the whole “I don’t want to be responsible for selling the house and dealing with any repairs plus any huge financial losses”.  But I’m also not sure where I can rent in my kids’ school district that will also accept pets.  Did I mention I have 3 dogs and 3 cats?  See, I used to own my own home and I kind of arranged my life around that.  I didn’t make decisions based upon, “What if my husband leaves me for his skank ass cousin?”  This is now my dilemma. My hope is that the divorce is not finalized until late this year and that a judge, if it goes to court, will give me 12-18 months before I need to put the home up for sale.

I worry about what’s going to happen when my daughter graduates.  I know I still have time, but a year ago I would have said that she was going to have a fabulous party and we’d give her a wonderful graduation gift- probably a destination trip.  Now I have no idea what I’m going to be able to do.  Graduation gift?  Don’t make me laugh.  I’ll be lucky if I manage to scrape together enough money to throw a graduation party for her- a graduation party that will be sparsely attended for that matter.  I have like 3 friends here- 2 of them have daughters that will have already graduated by the time mine does so I’m not sure how much I’ll be interacting with them.  Most of my friends are in YYY state.  Cousinfucker and his family won’t be in attendance.  I’m going to have a party with less than 20 people in attendance.  For a graduation.  I’m thinking she will be better off just going out to dinner with us.  That goddamn motherfucking pig shit wearing waste of oxygen breathing cousinfucker has taken all this away from my child!  And I hate him for that.  I honestly do not care about him at all as a husband.  Run away, Cousinfucker!  Go fuck your cousin and tell your mommy all about it.  But DO NOT FUCK WITH MY KIDS!  I’m thinking about the graduation announcements and senior pictures.  Hell, do we need to rent or buy caps and gowns?  I graduated over 25 years ago; I honestly don’t remember what we did, and even if I did I’m sure it has changed.

I worry that my kids will have issues down the road.  And I sometimes wonder if my son is taking this too well.  Sometimes I tell myself that it is the benefit of having a father who wasn’t very involved anyway; the kid doesn’t miss him.  But other times I wonder, “Is it natural to be this blasé about your father’s disappearance in your life?”  My son has actually told people, “My dad is dead to me.”  He cares nothing about him.  My daughter is still willing to text him in order to get her allowance or to wish him a happy birthday or even to thank him for the Christmas gift.  My son?  Does.Not.Care.  He’s said outright he does not care if his dad ever gives him another dime.  He tells me there’s nothing he needs.  When I told him he needed to at least text his dad to thank him for the gift card he told me he didn’t have his number; he had deleted him from his contacts.  And he has mentioned more than once that he can no longer trust his dad, that he thinks his dad just used him to try to get him on “his side”, as my son puts it.

Honestly, I figured if one of the kids was more reluctant to take sides it would be him.  He longed for a relationship with his dad.  But he’s the one that he has really distanced himself.  That boy could give classes on No Contact.  My daughter is more practical.  She’s willing to deal with her dad in order to get her allowance and her long promised car.

That brings me to my next worry.  Her having a car would really help me out.  She could drive herself to her own practices.  She could drive herself and her brother to school.  That would give me a little more freedom in regards to getting a job.  However, my guess is Cousinfucker is once again going to plead poverty when it comes time to buying her a car.  Let’s give the poor guy a break.  He’s already promised a car to Harley’s daughter and it’s really tough buying two cars.  If you have to choose between your whore’s kid and your own child what sensible person is going to choose their own?  Am I right?  And seeing as how I’m already paying *his* car insurance I’m not seeing where he’s going to stand up and pay for her car insurance.

I worry about her a lot.  I worry she’s putting too much pressure on herself.  I worry she won’t have good relationships with boys.  I worry about her migraines.  I worry about the anxiety she says she’s feeling.

I wonder (not worry) whether or not I’ll be alone for the rest of my life.  Will I ever find someone else?  Someone who will treat me right.  Someone who will want to go places with me and do things with me.  Someone who will want to be a part of my family.  Someone who will embrace my kids and enjoy hanging out with them, too. Someone who isn’t a drama queen.  Someone who isn’t a miserable shit eating chimp and who won’t bring everyone around him down with him.  Someone who won’t fuck his cousin.  It’s those little things, ya know?

Honestly, I know I don’t *need* another man in my life.  If I look back over the last twenty-one years I feel like I was pretty much on my own the entire time.  I guess maybe we had a good five years before kids came along and he became a gigantic pain in my ass.  Becoming a parent changed my life.  It didn’t seem to change his, though.  And that’s where the problem is.  He still wanted a doting wife that tended to his every need.  After I took care of everything else.

But I would *like* to have someone I could share my life with.  It would be nice, as I said above, if there was someone out there who was willing to go places with me, do things with me.  When I am reluctant to do something, or don’t have the energy to do something, it would be nice to have someone cheering me on.  “Come on, Sam; it will be fun!  I’ll be right there with you.”  Instead I got, “Okay, let’s just go home.”  Or even better, he just wasn’t there to begin with.

I see friends who have husbands that actually *interact* with them and with the kids.  I think that would be nice.  Not a necessity but nice.  The guy that is, not the interaction.

In the end it’s all the not knowing that worries me the most.  I suppose time will tell.  Here’s to hoping that when I look back on this list in a year I’ll be able to laugh.

Some Days I (Want To) Cry, and Others I’m Just Pissed Off

 

It is no secret I’m a big fan of Chump Lady.  And if you don’t know that by now I am obviously not gushing over her enough.  I think she rocks.  She has explained a number of times that she uses the language that she uses on her blog to get people angry, to jolt “chumps” out of their chumpdom.  I say, “Thank God!”  Because I do tend to try to stay very level headed.  I try very hard not to let him get to me and not to let the rage simmer over into a full boil.  It would be so easy to let the rage consume me and let myself completely lose control and go ape shit on his ass.  But I don’t.  I’m looking long range.

There are times though that I get really pissed.  It pisses me off when I think of how blithely he lied to me.  He flat out lied to my face without a second thought.  He waltzed into our bedroom and announced he was thinking of birthday gift ideas for his mom and perhaps he would get her and his stepdad new phones and pay the bill since they only had pay as you go phones.  LIAR!  But, man, was he smooth as silk.  I had no idea my husband could lie to me that easily.

I texted him all summer while the kids and I were away visiting friends and family.  Every morning (or most mornings, I should probably say) I would snap a picture and send it to him with a little message.  Usually that message was simply, “Hi,” or “Good morning.”  And every day he played along, despite the fact that he was texting his whore and probably jerking off to her messages.  We talked about sex and looking forward to it once I got back home.  LIAR!  He just kept conning me.

He callously allowed me and his therapist to “coach” him through his drive for a supposed business trip.  I say supposed because there is some doubt that he was on this trip by himself.  Regardless, we coached him and stroked his ego and told him how he was a big boy and he could do this!  And he probably walked out of there thinking we were two of the biggest idiots he had ever encountered.  Motherfucker!

He casually mentioned going to his mom’s after the business trip.  You know, because he was so close to her house and he could just never forgive himself if he didn’t make the trip.  In hindsight he wasn’t that much closer to her house when he was on the so called business trip than when he was at our house.  Again with the lies.  Again doing it so casually.  And yes, that pisses me off.  To think that he was filled with such hubris.  That he thought he was so much better and so much smarter than me.  To think about all the ways he was pulling the wool over my eyes and not losing one bit of sleep over it.  Like an idiot I fully supported him, told him I had no problem with that.  He even had the audacity to ask me, “Are you sure you won’t be mad?”  I replied, “Of course not.  She’s your mom!”  Joke’s on me because dear old mom had already encouraged Harley to give her dear son a call, and there was a family reunion that they all attended.  HIS family wasn’t there.  Hell, we weren’t even informed about the event.  But he was there, and Harley was there, and they were hooking up a year to the day that our furniture was delivered to our new house from across the country.  You sonofabitch!  You had better thank your lucky stars that I haven’t had a chance to get down to New Orleans because once I do I’m buying a voodoo doll and I’m cursing your ass!

I get pissed when I think about him telling bald face lies all summer long about how he’s helping his mom out with grocery money and using his niece as a cover story.  “Oh, I’ve got to help them.  She’s my niece.  She’s young and she has a baby and she’s pregnant again.  Mom can’t keep up with feeding her and her boyfriend.  I’ve just gotta help!”  And because I’m a nice person, a kind and loving person, a big-hearted person, I thought nothing of it.  Of course we’ll help.

I think that’s the part that chaps my ass the most.  He used everything that I knew about us as a couple and who we were and used that against me.  We did help out our relatives.  I’m not saying we were dropping hundred dollar bills on them constantly, but it wasn’t out of the ordinary  for us to buy groceries, pay rent, send care packages, offer to pay a dentist bill, pay for airfare…  That’s why it was so easy for him to lie to me and get all of this by me.  You want to buy your mom a phone and pay her bill?  OK, that sounds reasonable.  It’s not like we haven’t paid her rent , bought her groceries, made a car payment for her, or “loaned” her money before.  We’ve got it so why not?  You want to send your mom money for groceries?  OK, that sounds reasonable.  You sent her $500 to repair her car?  Um, ok.  You sent her $500 again?  For what purpose?  And then you turned around and supposedly paid $172 for a single fucking tire at a Walmart in the whore’s town?  This is getting suspicious.

But no!  He didn’t know why that charge came up as Whoreville!  It was supposed to be some other town, much closer to his mom.  And he gave her more money because he just knew they were really hurting and needed it.  His mom didn’t ask for it, of course.  He’s such a good son he simply gave it to her because he could anticipate a need.

Yes, that shit pisses me off.  Again, you entitled jackass!  He LIED right to my face, disrespected me, disrespected our kids, our marriage, our everything.  And he used our past and my good nature to sell that lie.

I get pissed when I think about him refusing to take our daughter to his cousin’s funeral because that was just a front to go fuck his cousin.  I get pissed when I think about how, once again, he told me one bald faced lie after another.  What was supposed to be a quick one day trip turned into a five day adventure.  He was supposed to leave on Thursday, attend the funeral on Friday and return that day.  Instead he left on Thursday, told me on Friday that the funeral had been switched to Saturday (but by golly he swears they told him Friday!), and then plans to come home on Sunday.  When I ask him on Sunday, around 3 if he’s heading back soon he tells me he’s not leaving until 8.  What????  This is a man who had to be coached to drive on his business trip less than a month ago.  This is a man who until recently claimed that just driving to work (a mere 10-15 minutes away) was causing him great distress and anxiety.  Now, not only can the enflamed baboon’s ass drive hours and hours, he can even drive in the dark!  Praise Jesus!  It’s a miracle!  But wait!  It gets better.  I get a text at 11:00 at night letting me know he accidentally left with his mom’s keys in his briefcase.  Oh, how silly you are, Baboon Ass!  What a cute story!  Your mom’s keys are in your briefcase because you drove to the funeral.  On Saturday.  And your mom never needed her keys again between Saturday and Sunday.  Oh, that’s a laugh riot.  Now, he has to turn around and go back to Mommy’s house where he will spend the night.  He will come home the next day.  Yet somehow he doesn’t manage to get his ass home until after 5 in the afternoon.  It’s a 6 hour drive.  It also culminated in him rear ending a truck and him needing his own car repaired.  What’s wrong, Boo?  Were you thinking of sliding between your whore of a cousin’s thighs and forget to stop at the light?  Serves you right.  Too bad you weren’t going 70 mph when you slammed into it.  Hey, I told you I was pissed.

All those lies told to me and not one ounce of regret.  He could lie like a pro and not blink an eye.  That pisses me off.  It infuriates me.  You know why?  Because he’s saying, “You’re so stupid I can tell you anything and you’ll believe it.”   That’s insulting.  No, you flaming turd shot straight from Satan’s ass, I wasn’t DUMB; I was TRUSTING.  I trusted my lying, cheating husband of almost 21 years to be honest and faithful.  I misjudged your character.  I thought you had some and it turns out that much like your hair, you don’t have any.  He used our past and my kindness and understanding against me and then has the balls to believe it’s all because he’s such an impressive person who is so much smarter than the average bear.  Word to the wise, don’t ever mistake my trust and kindness for weakness.

I get pissed when I think about how he would SLEEP with his phone, and then make up lies.  “I don’t want to miss a call from my mom; I was afraid I wouldn’t hear it.”  What are you- six years old and away at sleep away camp for the first time?  Was he afraid I would find it and read their nasty ass texts?  You had a thumb print passcode, you jackass!  That was probably a huge lie, too.  “Oh, the company wants us to have our phones password protected so that if we ever lose them proprietary information is safe.”  Just to up the ante and play on my good nature he offered to add my thumb print as well.  “I trust you.”  Sam, you were an idiot of proportions so huge I can’t even begin to find an appropriate adjective.  You were off the charts stupid!  Yes, that’s me talking to myself.

I get pissed when I think about him boldly texting her AT OUR HOME, IN OUR BEDROOM and then lying to me when I ask him who on earth he’s texting that late at night.  “Oh, I’m not texting.  I’m playing Words With Friends.”  Seriously?  You don’t think I know the difference between a text screen and a game screen?

Then I get pissed at myself because I think to myself, “Why were you such an idiot?”  I don’t know!  Yes, I do.  I didn’t want to believe he could be cheating on me again.  I didn’t want to believe he could blow up our lives like that.  I liked my life.  I wanted to keep it.  So I buried my head in the sand and I believed even when I shouldn’t have.  It reminds me of the time we went to the zoo and watched as this chimp would stick his finger in his ass and pull out a shit-covered finger.  He would look at the finger, cock his head, sniff it, and then EAT the shit off of his finger.  Over and over again.  We stood there transfixed for more than a few minutes before we had to turn away.  He’s my shit eating chimp.  I couldn’t walk away!

I get pissed when I think about him checking me out only days after his return from the funeral and getting a hard on looking at me.  You fucking pig dipped in cow shit covered with flies and maggots!  You’re fucking your white trash cousin!  Don’t be checking me out.  I wouldn’t let you touch me if your dick was encrusted with diamonds!  I wonder though, would it piss you off to know that the reason I was so dressed up that day was because I was going to visit a lawyer to see what my rights were and how much you would end up paying me in child support?  Because I did.  Yes, you see, the very next day after I discovered you were back to fucking around with little Miss Harley I started calling lawyers.  I didn’t fuck around this time.  I started lining up my ducks.

I get pissed when I think about him taking off only a few days later to visit “his best friend.”  I mean, it was only fair since his friend had come to see him last time.  This time it was his turn.  Oh, had he forgotten to tell me that this was the weekend he was going?  He thought I knew.  And, of course, he was planning on telling me goodbye but I had just taken such a long time on my errand that he needed to leave before I could get back.  No, Satan, I think you mean you waited until I left to run an errand so you could get your damn suitcase out to the car without me being any the wiser.  Thankfully, I was already on to him, though so I knew it was all a lie this time.  Nonetheless, it pisses me off every time I think of him asking me why I hadn’t sent him a picture of my boobs.  Um, because, Dickhead, you’re fucking your cousin.  It actually puts me into a white hot rage some days.  The hubris.  A man gets brave when he’s screwing a piece of strange, even when that piece of strange is a white trash, gold digging whore.  Considering I’ve been told he has shown naked pictures of me to the whore I wonder now what his purpose in asking me to send him those pictures was.  Did he want to show her?  Is she eyeing some plastic surgery to be equal to me?  Did he want to show her so they could laugh together about how stupid I was?  Did he just want to test me, to see how far he could push me even when he was being a cheating, lying dick?  I don’t know.  I don’t care.  it just pisses me off.

I get pissed off when I think of how he so blithely spends his work days here at this house and then packs his bags and leaves to spend the weekend with his mistress and her kids.  Seriously, is that some entitled shit or what?  Is he just daring me to say something to him?  She can have you and all of your issues, too.  But it is still some entitled bullshit with a side of “Fuck You” tossed in.

I get pissed off when I think of all the money he has given to her, or spent on her.  That and the fact that he had the audacity to tell our son I “took all his money”.  No, Asshole, I simply made it more difficult for you to continue giving Harley every cent we had.

Similarly, I get pissed off when I think of him telling me, “I’m not going to continue to allow you to steal every dime I make!”  You wouldn’t be making the kind of money you make now if it weren’t for me, you lying, cheating douchebag.  And I didn’t steal YOUR money.  That was OUR money and you were giving it to YOUR WHORE without MY permission.

Simply looking at his pathetic face pisses me off most days.  I suppose it’s a good thing he does slink in and out of the house.

I was pissed off the day he told me, “This can still be civil.”  Fuck that!  I’ve been civil, you pompous, self-righteous incestuous bastard!  Very, very civil.

I get pissed off when I think about him trying to paint himself as the victim to our kids.  How dumb do you think they are?  This isn’t your mommy and your sister.  Those two idiot enablers don’t live with you, but your kids do.  They’ve been here for the last fifteen and thirteen years.  They know exactly what’s gone on in this house and how you’ve acted.  Your daughter called you out on your shit and your son doesn’t believe a word that you say.

I get pissed off when I think of him telling me, “Why don’t you use some of that money you took to pay the bills?” and then smirking, “Someone’s angry,” when I let loose on him.  I understand why the show, “Snapped” exists.

I think sometimes my biggest regret is not raging against him.  I sometimes wish I had Facetimed him when he was “visiting his best friend” and told him I knew, showed him the picture of his car.  Busted!  I wish I had told him not to come home and that I had thrown all of his shit on the front lawn with a big ol’ sign that said:  Cheater lives here! I moved my entire family across the country so I could fuck my cousin!  Along with a lot of smaller signs simply saying:  A cheater lives at xxxx YourStreet!  Enjoy fucking your whore the rest of the weekend, you asshole!

I get pissed off when I think about him giving a performance of a lifetime as Daddy of the Year for her four kids while he neglects his own.  I realize his relationship (or lack of one) with his kids is his own.  He’s going to have to own it and they aren’t cutting him any slack.  But it still pisses me off.  All these fucking years he shut himself away in his bedroom and left me to fend for myself as a single parent.  He fucks a whore and it suddenly jumpstarts his paternal instinct, although honestly, I think he’s just putting on a very good act.  He’ll get tired of it eventually.  And it pisses me off (and makes me a little bit sad for my kids) when I think of how she brags to people about what a wonderful father he is.  Is he?  Because his own kids don’t think he’s doing such a bang up job.  In fact, they’ve said he sucks as a dad.  But it’s so good to hear he’s treating your kids well.  I suppose when you’re fucking their mommy and she’s still married to their daddy you need to be especially nice to them.  What better way than to buy them off?

I get pissed when I think back to asking him for money to buy a Homecoming dress for our daughter and him telling me he didn’t have the money at this time; he’d have to give it to me next paycheck.  Yet somehow he was able to pay over $300 for a dress for a kid that isn’t his.

I get pissed when I think of how he’s ignoring his kid’s text messages, asking if he’s going to give them their allowances, because he’s too much of a chicken shit to actually admit that he’s not.  Now that he actually has to pay support he is apparently going to take the position of:  I pay child support and that should cover everything you need.  Ever.  That, despite the fact that he has NO BILLS outside of his support payment.  He lives here rent free, pays no utilities, pays no share of the marital debt, has no cell phone bill, no car payment, doesn’t even pay his car insurance.  I get a lump sum and I pay for EVERYTHING out of my money.  But he can’t cough up any extra for a yearbook.  Hey, here’s an idea.  Take that $200+ you spend each month on Harley and her daughter’s cell phone bill and use THAT to pay for your kids’ allowances!  Instead of blowing $300 on a damn dress for her daughter maybe use that money to treat your own damn kids!

I get pissed off when I think about how I’ve done all the grunt work over the years to get him to where he is and she’s going to plant her ass in one place, never moving her kids or her own self and he’s going to work around her.  Or at least that’s the plan.  Wonder how well that will work once he begins his new job and realizes he hates that one just as much as he hates this one because once again he has a boss?  That boss might have the balls to tell him no, or to overrule him on something or not let him have his way on everything.  Then he realizes in order to keep his pussy supply going he can’t move very far and now he’s stuck.  Boo hoo.  I feel so bad for you, CF.

I get pissed when I think about how he never arranged his jobs around OUR lives and US.  No, we were always expected to go wherever he took us.  But now, now he’s all about looking close to wherever the pussy is.  And how ridiculous is it that he was looking at a job smack dab in the middle of both of our home towns?  Seriously?  For over twenty years you couldn’t manage to look in that city which would have put us 2 1/2 hours away from your family and 3 hours away from mine?  That was too overwhelming for you but somehow you can now take on a divorce, your kids hating you, trying to sell a house (probably at a loss) with no guaranteed buyout, and a job change?  Once again, alert the fucking press because a miracle has occurred!

I get pissed when I think about the fact that he could have been promoted instead of us making another lateral move, thousands of miles away, destroying our lives.  But no, that all came to a screeching halt the first time he was fucking around with the dumb bitch and they came up with their little plan to move all of us closer (Why all of us?  Couldn’t he have moved and left us behind?).  He started the wheels turning way back then and we all got stuck with it.  So, instead of us remaining where we were, living the lives we loved while he was promoted and traveled, essentially rendering him a weekend husband and father, we’re here in BFE.  She’s the one that gets the weekend partner and father, instead of us.  Come to think of it, one of the reasons he gave for not wanting to travel so much was he didn’t want to miss out on his kids’ lives.  O.M.G.  That is hysterical!  He doesn’t seem to give two shits about his kids and what they want or what they’re doing.  And isn’t he basically doing the exact same thing he said he didn’t want to do?  It’s just that instead of staying at a Hilton or a Marriott, he’s staying in the family home while he’s away at work and then he drives the six hours to spend the weekend with his fake family.

I get pissed when I think of how casually he told me he was “grateful” to me for moving all over the country for him and his job.  Grateful?  How about acknowledging the fact that you’d still be a fucking 2nd shift supervisor if not for me?  Or perhaps a superintendent if you were very lucky.  The fact that I was willing to relocate instead of stomping my feet and insisting that I couldn’t be moved away from my family meant that you got to “self-promote”, as you liked to call it.  But he’s grateful.

Just like he also “respects me as a mother.”  Considering the fact that I’m the one that has done all of the parenting I would sure as hell hope you respect that.  Not to mention the fact that you run off every weekend to go fuck a whore and play family with her kids, leaving your kids with me.  I would hope you respect me as a mother seeing as how you LEFT YOUR FUCKING KIDS WITH ME DURING A STATE OF EMERGENCY DUE TO A HURRICANE!  And then again during a blizzard (also after a state of emergency had been called).

It pisses me off when I think of everything he has put all of us through.  We all gave up so much for HIM, to make HIM happy.  The end result is he didn’t give a shit.  It was never enough.  My daughter could have been a collegiate athlete; he took that away from her.  So HE could be happy.  My son is not happy here; he’s given up all of his friends, the one sport he loved to play, and the cello.  Again, all for his father’s wishes and desires.  My daughter is suffering- frequent migraines, anxiety, possible depression.  She has lost her drive.  My son is miserable here and wants to go back to YYY state.  I left behind friends.  I dropped all my activities.  For HIM.  Because he was unhappy where we were.  So I did what I always did and told him we would all go wherever he wanted to go.  My mother has said more than once that he couldn’t have left us in any worse financial shape.  Seriously- who the fuck puts an expensive inground pool in their backyard and then leaves their family?  A selfish asshole, that’s who!  He moves us here and now he’s planning on leaving?  WTF!  It’s like he dropped a bomb on our lives and once we had partially rebuilt them he tosses in a few hand grenades.  SURPRISE!

It pisses me off when I think of how he thinks he’s just going to walk away from all responsibilities.  He doesn’t worry about who is taking care of the kids.  He doesn’t worry about who will watch the dogs when he goes away.  Doesn’t give a shit who will watch them if we go away.  He isn’t worrying about finding another house in the kids’ school district, or one that will accept pets.  Hell, he’s not even concerned about getting our backyard back into shape in order to sell this damn place, and he sure as shit isn’t planning on doing any of the cleaning or chauffeuring dogs around when it’s time to show the house.  Nope, he’s free and clear.  He’s a bachelor with no kids, no pets, no responsibilities.  He’s planning on ME doing all the heavy lifting, just like I always have.

If I think way back to when I found out about him and Harley the first time it pisses me off to think of how *I* was the one who was expected to change and dance for him.  Oh, baby, tell me what I can do to make this all better?  What do I need to do so you don’t feel the need to seek out other women?  Let me know how I failed you so that I may improve.  You know who should have had a list of things to work on?  You!  You should have been the one dancing like mad, trying to woo me and win me back.  You should have been doing everything you possibly could have to keep me happy and to make me want you because YOU are the one that fucked up.  Not me!  Here’s the kicker, folks- I wouldn’t even want him to feel like he had to constantly prove himself to me.  I never wanted him to dance for me.  But if one of us is going to have a list I think it should be ME presenting a list to HIM.  I didn’t cheat.  I didn’t lie.  Instead he let me know what all *I* could do.  Unfortunately, I was so stupid I went along with it.  I wanted to save my marriage.  I wanted to prevent my kids from growing up with divorced parents.  In hindsight I should have kicked his sorry ass to the curb and got on with my life.  In YYY state, with my daughter still competing in gymnastics, my son still playing hockey, and me still surrounded by great friends and a support network.

In a similar vein it pisses me off when I think of how he would plead for me to “just leave her alone; let her and her husband work things out for themselves while we work on our own stuff.”  Or how he explained the text she sent to him and his wimpy response.  He didn’t want to hurt her anymore; he felt bad because he knew he had already hurt her when he picked me.  Oh, barf!  She was your potential fuck buddy for less than four months.  I’d been your wife for over 18 years at that point.  He is a liar and a coward and a cheat.

It pisses me off whenever I think about the fact that while he was more than willing to stick up for his whore he refused to stick up for me.  I would let him know it bothered me that his family continued to fawn over the dumb whore and his response was always, “I can’t control them,” or “What am I supposed to do?  They’re grown adults.”  He refused to talk to them about their behavior, instead expecting me to just get over it.  And of course, whining about me not wanting to have a relationship with his traitorous family.  Even when I could overhear his mom telling him how she wanted to work on her relationship with me he wouldn’t ‘fess up and tell her straight out:  Stop interacting with Harley!

It pisses me off every time I think about how he would throw me under the bus with his many fucking lies to anyone who would listen.  He was always the victim and he loved to paint me as a heartless, vicious bitch.  He never corrected any of the fallacies.  Oh no, that might jeopardize his victim stance!  He actually had the gall to tell another sister that I filed for divorce and he had no idea why!  Um, that’s a lie, but if we’re going to go down this route then might I suggest you read your damn divorce papers?  I told you exactly why; I even gave her name and listed her address.

Then he turned around and told this same sister I threw out all of his clothes.  Because he never corrects his inaccurate statements I’m sure everyone in his circle still believes to this day that I’ve thrown out all of his clothes despite the fact that they were all nicely hung up in the guest bedroom.  You see, Cousinfucker fully intended to remain in the master bedroom, watching TV on the 42” TV, sipping wine, texting his whore while I slept on the couch or in the guest bedroom.  He, the cheater, would retreat to his spacious suite all during the week and then on the weekends he would leave to fuck his whore, returning back to the master bedroom sometime Sunday evening or Monday morning.  Unfortunately for him he made the mistake of accusing me of stealing “every dime he made”.  Picture me as Julia Roberts in “Pretty Woman”:  Big mistake.  Huge!  I kicked his worthless ass out of the master bedroom; I wheeled his dirty clothes into the guest room and moved all his shit out of the closet that weekend.  I think I should get bonus points for actually hanging them up instead of throwing them out onto the lawn.

It pisses me off when I think about HIS MOTHER encouraging Harley to call him.  What kind of an idiot encourages her son’s whore to give him a call because he’s “so sad”?  Seriously??? Don’t you think maybe that’s something you should be discussing with his WIFE?  Oh no!  Let’s call up the whore and see if she can work her magic.

It especially pisses me off when I think of her sitting in my kitchen asking me why we aren’t Facebook friends and telling me that she wants our relationship to go back to the way it was when we were so close, talking about how CF and I have been together for 20 years and that’s a long time.

It pisses me off that she can then turn around and write on my daughter’s Facebook page that she loves her with all of her heart even with everything that’s going on and then beg her not to shut her out.  YOU CAUSED THIS, YOU DUMB BITCH!  Your granddaughter is going through hell because you chose to enlist the help of her father’s whore instead of talking to his wife, her mother.  You have condoned this.  You’ve welcomed her with open arms.  You’ve basically told both of your grandchildren, “Deal with it!”

It pisses me off when I think of *everyone* who has been working behind the scenes to help destroy our marriage.  There was his “best friend” who so helpfully told him about my other page.  Did he really think that was going to help CF?  I mean, I realize I’m just the woman who has lived with him for over 20 years (incidentally, that is longer than anyone else in his life) so as his college roommate he undoubtedly knew CF way better than I did.  Let’s fast forward and get to the conclusion:  No, it didn’t help.  In fact, it put him into a suicidal state.  Was the best buddy around for that?  No.  He had his own life to live.  Just let the cold hearted bitch take care of him.  He actually had the gall to hug me the last time he saw me, all the while undoubtedly encouraging my husband to trade me in for a newer model.

There was his sister who begged him to leave me, who told him he deserved so much better than me.  Where was she when he was in the hospital?  Oh, that’s right!  She left him with that horrible wife and never bothered to come visit him.  At least now she’s not the only one who has cheated and left her spouse for another.  Welcome to the club, baby brother!

Going back even further it pisses me off when I think about how he wanted me dependent upon him and how nonchalantly he went about achieving that goal.  And it really pisses me off when I think of him wasting 20 plus years of my life, making me dependent upon him, and then discarding me like yesterday’s trash once he has decided he’d rather build a life with his cousin.

If I’m honest with myself this whole situation pisses me off.  Being moved 2000 miles across the country, our lives systematically dismantled for his amusement (and happiness, of course; can’t forget his happiness), money poured into a new house, new car, new furniture, new pool, all the things we promised our kids, the lies he told them about this brand new life out here, and then BOOM!  Lies, lies, lies.  As he blows up our lives completely.

THIS is precisely why I try so hard to take the high road and stuff all of this down.  No, not so much stuff it down.  I try to let it roll off my back, like water on a duck’s back.  This is somewhat ironic because I remember standing in the hair salon with my maid of honor and future sister-in-law, aka Jezebel, the morning of my wedding.  We were wearing button down shirts so as to not mess up our hair once it was done.  Our hair was brushed but that was all, and no makeup was worn.  I let my soon to be sister-in-law go first so my best friend and I were standing around talking.  To keep my emotions from welling up and to prevent the tears from falling I kept saying, “I’m a duck.  I’m a duck.  It’s all like water off a duck’s back.”  Who knew that I’d be saying that again at the end of our marriage?  Such irony.  Can we call that the circle of life?  I digress.

I let it all roll off of me, keeping only enough to power me through to do what needs to get done, because if I didn’t I would be consumed by the rage of everything he has done.  Voodoo dolls would be the least of his concerns.  Another Jedi would fall to the Dark Side.  I’ve got kids to raise; I don’t have time for that shit!  So… I let it roll off my back and only every now and then do I allow myself to take a moment to dwell on the Dark Side.