…the way forward…

According to blogger this is my 50th post…and really, that’s nothing remarkable. If I wrote with any kind of consistency, I would have reached this moment a long time ago and probably would have had a lot of faithful readers. (Who am I kidding?) So I’m going to talk about something I learned…yesterday was a milestone for me.

Yesterday was a hellish day and by the time I was done writing that post, I received a phone call. From her. She wanted me to come pick her up because she “walked out” on her fiance. I asked her, as nicely as I possibly could, if she had the kids with her. (I definitely wasn’t going to leave them stranded.) She didn’t, so I politely told her I couldn’t.

I think that was the equivalent of saying, “you made your bed now f*cking lay in it.” Part of me hurt inside when I did that. It’s hard “turning your back” on someone you’ve been friends with for over 7 years — but then again, this is a friend that picked my ex over me, who believed his lies over me, and decided that she wanted to marry him — and now (not even a month later) it’s over.

She called her child’s father asking to borrow money, as a friend, to get back on her feet and get her life together. Seriously. As a friend? The man you wouldn’t let see his child a couple of days ago, all of a sudden you want to borrow money from him? You want him to help you? You need him now…oh and he can see his son again too.

In the beginning of the whole scenario, I asked her where she thought my loyalty was? I mean, why would she believe that I wuold sleep with her child’s father? I hadn’t even really had many conversations with him — until all this happened.

And it’s funny how things change. The child’s father and I have bonded (not in anything other than a friendly way) because we miss the child — his son, my adorable little “nephew” — because we both feel played, taken advantage of, used and abused for what we could provide at the moment and then quickly discarded as soon as she “found something better.” And now she needs and wants us back.

I’m sitting here questioning now, where exactly is my loyalty? I’m tired of being taken advantage of when you try to be nothing other than helpful. I’m tired of helping her out of bad relationships, almost getting my a** kicked by abusive boyfriends because I’m the one standing up screaming in their face telling them to get lost without worry about what was going to happen to me — but worried about protecting her and the kids. I’m tired of just saving her out of every situation and I feel it’s time for her to save herself.

I wonder if I’m doing the right thing. It’s hard sometimes to just let go. I know I can always see the kids because as long as she acts right, I can pick them up from the father’s house. I just never thought it would’ve come to that.

Friendships, like any other relationship, are a very delicate thing.

(And I hope that a certain someone knows that I do take ours seriously…)

First, let me just say, I’m in a BAD mood. If you don’t want your sunny disposition to be darkened…don’t read any further and come back tomorrow for some wittiness and cheer.

Let the bullsh*t begin…

So former best friend (yes, I said former) has officially lost the one marble she may have had last. After deciding that she’s going to marry extremely controlling ex of mine, she decided that her youngest son’s father could no longer see him. Why? Because he’s not paying child support.

The only reason he’s not paying child support is before she became a greedy money hungry b*tch, HE was supporting HER. There would be no reason for him to pay child support when he not only paid half of her rent (he didn’t even live there), the utilities, her car payment, and even her tuition for school. How that they’re no longer together, he didn’t pay for all that stuff — but continued to support his son. (His son actually spent 5 out of 7 days each week at his house.) I guess that’s not enough.

Now, the father is not one of those guy’s who doesn’t want to be involved with his son. He cherishes EVERY single moment he has with him — and you know it’s bad when he calls me upset and pissed off — because he hasn’t seen his son in a week — conversations with a 1 year old over the phone don’t really do much.

So she filed paperwork to take him to court to get child support. The court date is not until late January so I’m supposing that her intention is to prevent him from seeing his son until after then. Kids are not a f*cking bargaining tool!

I haven’t seen the kids in who knows how long, and I had practically seen them everyday since they were born, and it just pains me to see her disrupting and destroying the kids’ lives.
Ugh — I’m just too p*ssed to continue…

*This story proves that I do have a nice side to me…*

He (of notable mention here and here) called me Thursday to wish me a happy thanksgiving. I answered, though something inside me told me not to. I didn’t recognize the number since I had long deleted it from my cell phone and I wasn’t in the mood for talking after watching the Dallas Cowboys’ sad loss to the Denver Broncos. (Yes, I must always talk about football.)

Hello?

Hey UB, it’s Mike.

Oh yeah! Hi! I knew at this moment I probably sounded a lot like an over zealous cheerleader, but I didn’t want to make him feel too bad.

How are things going?

Great.

Did you have a good turkey day?

Yeah, I did.

Well, I just called to let you know I was thinking of you…

Mmmhmm.

And I can’t keep thinking about that night where you org*smed over the phone…

And it was at that point where I just about lost it. I FAKED IT! I NEVER ORG*SMED! I thought it was the quickest way to get him off the phone (next to just hanging up on him) since he wanted phone s*x so bad. I was READING a book. Aaarrgghh!! And it seems for some reason he thinks this is the most intimate intriguing moment that we’ve had. (Ok — so maybe it is the most intimate we’ve ever been….) So I decided to just tell him how I felt.

Mike, I’m sorry. Don’t call me anymore. I’m dating someone.

Ok, so I chickened out and just said that and hung up the phone. I didn’t have the strength to just tell him that his fascination with that one night scares me sh*tless. I didn’t have the courage to tell him that I faked it either. I figured that maybe since he is so stupid, maybe I should just leave him with his interpretation of that one solitary night where we were “so intimate.” Because, in my opinion, I just don’t think he’s going to get any closer than that to s*x in a very long time.

Happy Thanksgiving Ya’ll. I’ve deviated from the usual cartoonish-like shots and moved to black and white…we’ll see if change is a good thing.

Here’s a picture of one thing I’m thankful for…

New lingerie!

Now if only I could get someone over here to ‘untie’ me…

Happy HNT!!!

DISCLAIMER: I wrote this after imbibing a fair amount of beer and not really enough food. So it’s a delayed WEDNESDAY night post.

I have this uncanny knack of finding amusing people to talk to when I’m out. Tonight, I went to BW3’s with my manager from my part-time job. They were sponsoring an event called “Working Women’s Wednesday” which consisted of free food and plenty of giveaways.

It was crowded. Packed. Kinda stuffy. Reminiscent of all the times I’d gone there to watch football or basketball games, but this time it was nothing but a bunch of catty women trying to look cute for the 15 (yes I counted them) guys who wound up there by mistake thinking they could just eat their wings and drink their beer in peace.

I was tired of standing after waiting in line for about 20 minutes to fill out a ticket for the drawing and getting some food and I saw a table (designed for about 6) with only 3 guys sitting there. Hey, I queried, do you mind if we sit here? Nope…they didn’t at all.

I met three guys who’s names I didn’t bother to acquire who were all from out of town. (Those are the perks of living in a military town I suppose). Two of them were married and the third, the guy sitting directly next to me, was single. What are the odds? Unfortunately, he was an Eagles fan. (D*mn, you guys are EVERYWHERE!)

We joked a bit. Talked about sports. They were even impressed with our knowledge of all things sportslike. But then things started to get a little bit strange. For starters, they were drinking — kinda heavily, but then again, they were Air Force and all the members of my flight upon graduation got flasks as gifts — but that’s not the point. I’m looking at these three handsomely burly guys tell me that they’re going out into some field to look at stars — and then the one who looked very much like the Rock except he was short (very short) says, “we should invite them to come along.”

My boss and I looked at each other and laughed. We’re semi-country girls. We’re pretty sure this is something that our mama’s had warned us about, plus we’re pretty confident that there are a couple of scary movies that start out that exact way.

Boy meets girl. Girl likes boy. Boy likes girl. Boy asks girl to go “star gazing.” In a field. In the middle of nowhere. In the cold. Girl goes and one of the following usually happens:

1. Girl hears Coyote/Scary Animal/Footsteps and freaks out, runs, trips on stick, and dies.
2. Girl has to pee cause she was drinking too much at the bar beforehand, tries to hold it, pees onself and dies of embarrassment.
3. While gazing up at the stars, boy convinces her that said star “over to the left” is Venus/Mars/Neptune and then moves in for the kiss and turns out to be a vampire….

Ok, you get the picture. Nothing good happens between a girl and boy in the middle of the night in a field in the cold.

So we declined their offer and we left going our separate ways but I’m pretty sure that nothing good happens when three boys go to watch stars in the cold in a field either.

(By the way, it wasn’t just recreational for them, it was job-related AF sh*t, but still it made me laugh, or maybe it just amused me because I was tipsy…yep, that’s it…and chances are that I still am.)

I believe my HNT days are almost over. I keep forgetting about it week after week — and well, I’ve just realized that being the vain person I am, the only other pictures I have are of my face — and no one is getting to see that anytime soon…well those who ask will.

Nevertheless, here’s this week’s picture of my feet…

There’s a cute little story that goes with this picture, but I’ll spare everyone the details and I’ll just stare and smile goofily at it all by myself.

I had a bet on Monday Night Football last night. It’s the first time EVER that I’ve actually bet on the Cowboys. They usually end up disappointing me.

So I made the following bet with an ex-boyfriend of mine. We’re still friends so we’ve never quite ruled out the possibility of reuniting romantically, we just know that we’re not good together right now.

WAGER: If the Cowboys won, I get to name “our” first child, Dallas Troy. (I actually despise the name, but anything to make an Eagles fan mad, heck, I might be able to live with it…) If the Eagles won, I had to marry him by Spring.

Ok, now I realize that this bet sounds a bit preposterous and I probably shouldn’t have made it. And I was depending on a team to win that had let me down numerous times in the past. Plus, how in the world was I going to explain to the guy I’m dating that I have to marry my ex by Spring? I guess I was just hoping that he wouldn’t try to collect on the bet or I was feeling extra-confident.

You can imagine my despair when the Cowboys seemed like they just wouldn’t get it together, had lost all motivation, and were going to lose the game. I was, in fact, preparing the break-up speech for my guy. I mean, how do you say, I’m sorry, we have to break up because I made a silly bet…

So early in the 4th quarter I did something I never do. I turned off the game, decided to call it a night, and said a little prayer hoping that if there is a God out there, He should most definitely answer my prayer this time. After all, I’ve never asked for much. And God gave me a little miracle…Dallas won, in the last 3 minutes of the game.

I’ve never felt so relieved the day after the game…

HNT has snuck up on me yet again, and this time I was totally unprepared. It seems like my past posts have been alternating — t*ts then a**, t*ts then a**, (well minus the smile thrown there in the middle) — so if I follow the above formula, it’s time for another a** shot.

Enjoy…HAPPY HNT!!

I work for a criminal defense attorney and because of that, I have a general distaste for most police officers. I believe they are stupid and if they ever did their jobs right, it would make our job a lot harder.

Never before have I witnessed such stupidity as I have today. I was pulled over by one of Ohio’s finest. A state highway patrolman. Why? Because I have no license plate on the front of my car.

I’m not sure what other state’s laws are regarding front plates on vehicles, but I’m not willingly disobeying this law. Anyway, a few years back, I had my license plate stolen, and the cop told me (since I didn’t have a front one on then either) to use the extra plate on the back. (I now wonder if I would’ve been pulled over for this too…)

So Mr. Ignorant Policeman approaches my car and says, ‘do you know why I pulled you over?’

Um, no.

It’s because you have no front license plate on your car.

My response. Huh? Really? Could it be because I have no bumper on the front of my car?

He goes to the front of my car and looks down and then says, oh, you don’t, do you? I didn’t notice that.

How could you not notice the toothless grin my car seems to have? Could anyone tell me where I’m supposed to put the d*mn front license plate after some stupid f*cking taxi-cab driver tears off the front of my car?

The policeman issued me a warning.

*I promise this will be the last story (God-willing) about the ‘best friend’ and my ex.*

She asked me to be in her wedding. The maid of honor along with our other friend. And as most best friends are, I was happy (though maybe not as happy as I should be) to oblige. We looked at dozens of bridal magazines, discussed the possibility of her (rather my ex) hiring a wedding consultant and the possible venues. Venues became a major issue since she was raised Catholic and his family is Jehovah’s Witness. Basically, the wedding was not happening inside a church. They chose either a local art institute or this newly constructed grandiose theatre downtown. A place completely complimentary to her $20,000 engagement ring.

He also recently just bought her a new vehicle at some bizarrely astronomical price. So you can imagine my shock and utter distaste when she informed me that she (uh, I’m not even sure why she phrased it like this) is not paying for the bridesmaid’s dresses. We all know that she is not the one paying for the wedding and the first place…he is. Secondly, I thought (correct me if I’m wrong) that it was customary (though there may be excruciating circumstances) that the bride/bride’s family paid for the dresses.

Perhaps, I’m up in arms because of the situation. I’m already working two jobs to make my ends wave at each other; I’m not sure when or if they’ll ever meet, and I certainly don’t have it in my budget to invest into being a bridesmaid in someone’s wedding who’s date has been pushed up because she’s with child. So now I’m just trying to figure out how to gracefully bow out of this wedding…I’m welcome to any ideas.