A few years ago, I was living in Kentucky when my then-husband was sent to Bosnia. At the end of my son's school year, I wondered why the hell I was staying in Kentucky when my family was in Michigan enjoying life and beer without me.
Being Miss Independent, I rented a U-Haul trailer and single-handedly packed our belongings for the trip north. Space and volume estimation have never been my strong suits, and it seems I sorely underestimated the size trailer needed to haul one house worth of STUFF. I planned on leaving the following morning, so, much to the neighborhood's delight, out on the curb FOR FREE, I left: a couch, loveseat, king size waterbed, kitchen table, assorted household goods and one slightly-dented storage shed (seems my drinking buddy thought she had the car in reverse when it was actually in drive - she drove into the shed and knocked the Harley soft-tail custom over....oops).
I DID, however, manage to fit all my books, cds, houseplants and the kid so the journey wasn't a total loss.
Out of the Closet
Stephen wants to know how we met out significant others. I can't figure out WHY I don't have one...
...unless, of course, it's because I'm a FREAK!
Spy vs. Spy
Three years ago, I discovered AudioGalaxy, a music-sharing site that had everything: rare music files, message boards, fascinating people. And a man named "Sean". Ohhhh, he was funny, smart, knew everything I was interested in and was also an animal lover, a sure sign of a great heart. Flirty banter developed into something deeper. I stopped sleeping because of the time difference - I had to be online when he was.
My husband "EX" was overseas. I was lonely, and spent most of my waking hours looking online for Sean, or laughing once I’d found him. Don’t ask me how we could talk online for 8 or more hours a day (I’d tease him that I was a full time job)...someone I’d never met, yet conversation was never dull. We shared so many interests, the same outlook...everything, it seemed. And he listened, REALLY listened to me, making me feel special - he even saved my life a few months later.
After my year of bliss and freedom, EX came back and started cutting into my Sean time. He would go to bed at 9:00 - I’d stay on the computer until 2:00 in the morning. He’d go to the grocery store - I’d sign in and meet my online lover. He and our son went to Disneyland - I said I had no vacation time at work. He said I needed counseling - I professed my undying love to Sean.
Husband EX gave me an ultimatum: stay off the computer or MOVE! OUT! NOW! Hey, I had an addiction - if I was a rational person, I wouldn’t have half the trouble in my life that I do. I started getting up in the middle of the night to send furtive messages, or email all day long from work. EX asked, "are you still emailing and using the computer?" Self preservation helped my poor lying skills because I dug deep, made eye contact and told him of course I wasn't. "Pfffft....what computer?"
He started asking me about things I KNEW I hadn’t told him...I thought he might have figured out my password so I started changing it religiously every day. He asked me specifics about Sean...I knew something was up (he would also disconnect and take the cable modem WITH HIM when he left the house). I eventually figured out he had put a key stroke program on the computer, which he later confirmed. Every word I typed went straight to his email inbox. I’d change my password, he’d know what it was and would go to yahoo to read all my sent messages...
We had a blow out - he had a stack of my printed messenger conversations and started reading them, throwing pages at me and threatening to forward them to everyone I knew...I cried, wondering when EX would stop yelling at me so I could get to a computer and tell Sean.
The marriage had been rocky for many years but I no longer felt the need to stick with it. I had no choice - I left my husband of 16 years. Left with the cat, a suitcase and my cds. I didn't even see a lawyer - just signed the paperwork he drew up. It was worth it to have my freedom and I get to talk to Sean whenever I WANTED!
Yes, I'm a cheater and I wasn't surprised by the outcome, but I don't consider cybersex to be physically cheating. Words can't get you pregnant or pass STD's, right? If wanting someone else is a sin, I'm afraid I'll never be faithful.
Are you finished with the newspaper yet?
I generally leave all the doors in the house, including the one to the bathroom, open.
If I don't:
Mil-wau-keeeeee!
My favorite place in the whole world, hand’s down, bar none, is Cinque Terre, Italy. I read a seriously great blog entry the other night by Patresa, the newlywed (read it here) concerning her spirituality and thoughts she arrived at while in Italy, specifically while sitting alone on a rock in Cinque Terre. Most people have never heard of this tiny village up on the cliffs above the Mediterranean. I’ve been three times and I’m sure I could live there and be content for the rest of my life...okay, and if I could have a hot Italian man to share my experiences and bring me gelato, I would NEVER leave (pictures are in my photo album - not of an Italian stallion, sheesh, but the scenery and one of my son holding gelato, probably mine so I could take the photo).
When I was living in Germany a few years ago, my best friend from Wisconsin came over to visit for two weeks. The two of us, sans kids and annoying, controlling men, explored the back cobblestone roads with my little Mustang...we drove the winding, one-lane mountain pass to Vernazza, the first of the five villages (hence the name, Cinque, for the 5 bottles of wine you must consume while getting there). No cars are allowed so we parked outside the town limits and hiked to find a room. Real women don’t make reservations..okay, real DUMB women that don’t speak Italian and like to have adventures, don’t make reservations....
There was one main street, with all the houses terraced up above. We found a room, finally, about 3 levels up and decided to unwind with dinner and wine. I don’t remember what I ate, but I’m sure pesto was involved...and we finished off 3 bottles of wine. We found a bar and tried ordering screwdrivers. The other unique thing about Cinque Terre? NO ONE else speaks English...so we had vodka and Fanta orange soda (do not try this at home, gag!)
We started sharing a table with 2 German men - one spoke a few words of English, the other some Italian...I speak a little Spanish and my friend is fluent in Turkish - and enjoyed sign language, alcohol and laughter. Eventually, we paired off and I headed out to the rocks along the shore with Hans..or Martin...or whatever his name was, and we fooled around for a while. I wasn’t really into it - his tongue was fat and his mouth too warm - and I started seeing flashes of light. There, a few feet away, was my friend taking pictures of a very naked me...my first and only porn! (those photos are NOT in the album...you will find them in her special blackmail folder under lock and key).
We stumbled off to our room, but apparently my friend had forgotten to say goodnight to her German beau...we heard him, wandering the streets below, yelling, MIL-WAU-KEEEEE, hoping to find her. It's a memory, and a hangover, I'll treasure forever.
It takes a raise to get a raise...
Recently, a new company took over our contract at work and hired most of us to stay - oh, sure, there were skillful negotiations and tears, but I managed to keep my job and even got promoted. One condition: all employees MUST complete 40 hours worth of online training courses, ranging from the fascinating subject of bloodborne pathogens to the hot topic of sexual harassment by noon on May 4th or face termination. Uh....guess what? I still have a few to finish. Damn, sometimes I HATE being such a procrastinator - but I'm so good at it...seems a shame to waste a gift.
I've always worked in predominantly male fields and apparently it's warped me (if you want to know what hell is like...try Basic Training with 39 other women...UGH! Never again!) This week's activities have included:
a compliment to my lovely coworker: "Jessica, could you show a little more cleavage? I can't quite see your nipples."
a bet by one of my co-workers that he could shoot a load from his desk to mine (I'm hoping he hasn't actually followed through with this one).
a fake grab for my subordinate's ass (well, I DID warn him that the next time he wore the jeans with a hole in the pocket, I was going to try); and
a conversation in the break room about a Prince Albert
I know it's hard to believe, but lo and behold, I FAILED the sexual harassment course. I am never going to live this down! Guess I'll have to try bribing them all with beer again this week...
UPDATE...11:46. I finished my training AND I'm going to keep my hands to myself for the rest of the day. Probably. Unless someone else starts it...
Working on my plumber's crack:
I tend to avoid my son's bathroom (see no evil, hear no evil, avoid piss spots on the floor) so when I tiptoed in for a Kleenex yesterday, I was surprised to see his tub full of water - HOURS after he had taken a shower. "Oh, yeah" he said, "it's been doing that all week." Common sense might dictate he MENTION it earlier, but apparently there's no place for logic in a teen boy's brain.
Armed with gloves, a plunger, drano and a twisted hanger, I spent a good half hour fixing the drain...to finally emerge victorious with the BIGGEST, nastiest, blackest fur/hair ball I have ever seen. I told him to quit shaving his legs (*eyeroll* accompanied by that "my mom is such a dork" look)...He was sufficiently grossed out...and I've vowed not to give the dog baths in there again.
Yes, I share in the responsibility in the creation of this monstrous hair clog...I use the hand-held shower massager to give the dog baths in the tub (mmmm, lucky girl) because she's afraid of water and slippery porcelain walls are the best way to pin her down. Hard to believe, but she runs from the hose...and I'm quite sure she doesn't know how to doggy paddle. One year we took her to the beach, and she stood on the shore, watching the other dogs run and frolic in the surf..it was the saddest thing. She's not little and you'd think a 45 lb rottweiler/chow would be a little less fearful...pussy dog.
I suppose I'll load her up and haul her fur-shedding self to Petsmart...I just hope they have the coconut-scented conditioner she likes.
A list for the XY's
MEN...here's a handy "honey don't" list...cut and paste for future reference:
DO NOT:
1. run over my cat
2. check the mileage on the car before I leave or when I come back
3. leave the toilet seat up or put the toilet paper on the roll "under"
4. tell me you'll divorce me if I ever weigh over 130
5. friggin' talk to me about politics if you're just going to call me an ignorant liberal
6. grind your teeth while sleeping - it makes me want to sucker punch you in your stomach
7. open my mail or eavesdrop on phone conversations
8. forget our anniversary...every! single! year!
9. use the debit card without saving receipts
10. put a key stroke logger on the family computer to spy on me
Short and Stupid
Summer, 1973: I decided to take the slowwwwwww train to death's door by...overdressing myself to death. Two weeks, every day, I wore 5 layers of clothes: tights, corderoys, winter coat, boots, hat, etc. and played outside in the yard (of course, it was Michigan so the high temperature. was probably only 70 degrees F.). My parents wanted me to be myself and never interfered. There's probably a good reason I'm an only child.
The Tooth Fairy Strips Again
Chipping my tooth while skinny dipping was probably one of the most excruciating thing I've ever done (and that was before I chipped the tooth, heh)..
Location:
The Au Sable river , where my dad and uncles own 3 of the 5 canoe liveries in a small town in Northern Michigan. Yes, it's technically a monopoly, but we spend enough on beer in town, that no one really minds.
Crew:
5 bored teenagers (3 male, 2 female) aged 15-16.
Living in small towns means there is rarely anything going on...well, besides alcohol. Or how to get alcohol. And sex. This particular night, we had been drinking and playing Truth or Dare when one of us was dared to strip and float down the river, from one livery, under the bridge, to my uncle's house. Apparently, it seemed like such a a great idea, that we all joined in. We stripped, grabbed cushions, and floated and laughed our way downstream.
The river in the summer is about 5' deep and generally clean. Unfortunately, one of my greatest fears in life is...SEAWEED. Yeah, yeah, I know it's stupid, but it freaks me out if I think it's going to touch me...one of the guys decided to swim under me and graze my legs to scare me. Yep, sure enough, it worked. I yelped, tried to jump out of the water...but being drunk means the plan never traveled from my brain to my limbs for execution. I managed to smack my mouth into the concrete portion of the bridge. It was excrutiating, honestly.
Two members of the group (fraternal twins) lived above a drug store, which their mom owned in "town" (located at the ONE traffic light). Since we were now on the other side of the river, opposite our clothes and I was busy whining (okay, crying), we decided to run the 4 blocks into town, break into the store and get anbesol to numb my tooth and shut me the hell up.
Five drunken, naked, wet teenagers running down the streets of a small town...not something you see every day.
obsessive-compulsive-impulsive trigger finger
im·pul·sive
Pronunciation: im-'p&l-siv
1. buying LOTS of clothes without trying on any
2. putting in an offer and buying a house after looking at it ONCE (over the internet)
3. getting married to a man you've known 4 months (oy...)
4. booking a house on the beach in Florida for next week without bothering to tell your boss you've decided to take a vacation
5. see Indigo
Destination: St. George Island
I'm not coming back. Carry on without me.
