You know...
...You guys are making me think. It's hard to ignore comments like:
"I do think there is a little bit of civic responsibility involved."
and
"He hit you, cheated on you, left you. You don't owe him anything. Being the spiteful bitch I am, I would take him for everything he has, and then some. He deserves to pay in on his taxes. You deserve to be able to afford a car of your own, since he took the only decent one with him when he left. You should tell him you'll file taxes with him if he'll buy you a car of your choosing HA!"
Wouldn't you hate to be my attorney?
"Well, I know what I said but the blog people told me not to do it."
I will try to avoid saying that but you guys are really, really making me think. Damn it. I was happy in my ignorance for a few hours there. Oh well, I will have to pull a Scarlett O'hara and worry about it tomorrow.
Tonight I have just spent a quiet evening at home. A few weeks ago, that meant that I was sitting in the living room by myself. Now it means that my Dad is sitting in the living room with my son and we have all just finished a good meal that I was able to cook without having to go shopping for the ingredients. I could do that again if I had to. I still have my Hot Pockets, but I don't eat as many as I did before. I barely remember the last time that I was alone. I think it will be a very long time before I whine about being alone again.
They all have to go. They are cramping my style and I can never get my studies under way with my dad in the living room. I tried that in the 70's...he scared the guys then and I bet he could still do it today. He actually asked one guy what his plans for the future were. I was in the next room and I could hear him. I wanted to die.
That wasn't as bad as my 16th birthday. I was working at a hardware store and I had planned to go to my cousin's house in Roselle, a suburb of Chicago a little west of me. My father picked me up from work and all I wanted was to be dropped off at the train station so that I could get to Elaine's and take a shower. My greasy hair was pulled back in a pony tail and I was wearing white from head to toe. To make matters worse, I was all dirty from working in that stupid hardware store. My dad didn't want to take me right to the train station. He told me that my mother had baked a birthday cake and that all of my younger brothers and sisters wanted to eat cake and ice cream. I caved.
He was so mean to me when I was a kid. Me and my greasy pony tail walked right into a surprise birthday party equipped with everyone I knew, including my boyfriend and most of his friends. My mother got mad at me because I went and took that shower anyway. But she got back at me. She made a huge strawberry shortcake as a birthday cake and I am allergic to strawberries. She knew how much I liked them and didn't think this once would hurt. I broke out in hives all over my body. I had to go change into my bathing suit and dive into our pool.
I don't know why parents do those kinds of things to kids. And then, they expect us to take care of them when they get old. Yeah right.
Well, I am going to go hide in my bedroom and read. Maybe I will get some divine inspiration about what to do.
See ya,
Meg
...You guys are making me think. It's hard to ignore comments like:
"I do think there is a little bit of civic responsibility involved."
and
"He hit you, cheated on you, left you. You don't owe him anything. Being the spiteful bitch I am, I would take him for everything he has, and then some. He deserves to pay in on his taxes. You deserve to be able to afford a car of your own, since he took the only decent one with him when he left. You should tell him you'll file taxes with him if he'll buy you a car of your choosing HA!"
Wouldn't you hate to be my attorney?
"Well, I know what I said but the blog people told me not to do it."
I will try to avoid saying that but you guys are really, really making me think. Damn it. I was happy in my ignorance for a few hours there. Oh well, I will have to pull a Scarlett O'hara and worry about it tomorrow.
Tonight I have just spent a quiet evening at home. A few weeks ago, that meant that I was sitting in the living room by myself. Now it means that my Dad is sitting in the living room with my son and we have all just finished a good meal that I was able to cook without having to go shopping for the ingredients. I could do that again if I had to. I still have my Hot Pockets, but I don't eat as many as I did before. I barely remember the last time that I was alone. I think it will be a very long time before I whine about being alone again.
They all have to go. They are cramping my style and I can never get my studies under way with my dad in the living room. I tried that in the 70's...he scared the guys then and I bet he could still do it today. He actually asked one guy what his plans for the future were. I was in the next room and I could hear him. I wanted to die.
That wasn't as bad as my 16th birthday. I was working at a hardware store and I had planned to go to my cousin's house in Roselle, a suburb of Chicago a little west of me. My father picked me up from work and all I wanted was to be dropped off at the train station so that I could get to Elaine's and take a shower. My greasy hair was pulled back in a pony tail and I was wearing white from head to toe. To make matters worse, I was all dirty from working in that stupid hardware store. My dad didn't want to take me right to the train station. He told me that my mother had baked a birthday cake and that all of my younger brothers and sisters wanted to eat cake and ice cream. I caved.
He was so mean to me when I was a kid. Me and my greasy pony tail walked right into a surprise birthday party equipped with everyone I knew, including my boyfriend and most of his friends. My mother got mad at me because I went and took that shower anyway. But she got back at me. She made a huge strawberry shortcake as a birthday cake and I am allergic to strawberries. She knew how much I liked them and didn't think this once would hurt. I broke out in hives all over my body. I had to go change into my bathing suit and dive into our pool.
I don't know why parents do those kinds of things to kids. And then, they expect us to take care of them when they get old. Yeah right.
Well, I am going to go hide in my bedroom and read. Maybe I will get some divine inspiration about what to do.
See ya,
Meg
posted by Meg Kelso | 6:53 PM
2 Comments:
Meg,
You're a very nice woman. You're a pleasure to speak with on the telephone. I'm sure you'd be great to grab a cup of coffee with. I think you might just not believe you are owed what your 'blog people' believe you are. I'm positive if we could all keep your bills paid for you, most of us would be more than happy to. I know I can't. I'm perplexed at how my bills are getting paid. ;)
Vex was supposed to love, honor, and cherish you until your last breath. He instead chose to shack up with Miss Trailer Trash, and leave you when you needed to be loved and cherished the most. I think he deserves to pay for what he did wrong. A small part of me hopes he realizes someday the pain he caused you. The rest of me sees that he is too arrogant to *gasp* take the appropriate blame for what he did. He deserves to suffer some financial hardship. Though you are moving on with you life, you have suffered through some horrible things at his hands. You deserve a car, health insurance, alimony, and the ability to spend your time with whomever you wish, however you wish to spend it.
From the corners of the country, and possibly the world, the blog people are cheering you on!
Meg-HOLYSH*T, just happened to surf in and can't believe how similar our situations are, it's staggering! *rushing over to the archives to catch up on the back story*
Yours in cheating husband sisterhood
Fisherman's Daugther
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