Well...

...I’m much better now. How angry can you be when there are little goblins knocking at your door saying “Trick or Treat?” Children are enough to evoke a smile from the most stringent scrooge out there.

Halloween is such a cool holiday. I do crazy things on that day. Yeah, I know, I do crazy stuff most days...but now I mean fun-crazy, not whacky crazy.

One year I wrapped myself up and sat on my porch like a fake mummy. The parents all assured their children that I was a “pretend monster and nothing to be afraid of”. When they put their little feet on the door step, I waved at them...scaring the parents and assuring that the children would never trust them again.

Another year, I disguised myself as a house plant on a table. How do you do that you ask? Well, first, you take a bunch of leaves. You put the first one on the top of your head and then the second one next to that and so on until your head is one big green bush. Then, you cut a hole in a box and an old table cloth. You sit on your front porch and stick your bush head through the hole and pull the covered box down and sit indian style. Now, you are a house plant on a table.

The great part about being a house plant is that no one expects you to be a fake house plant. The kids saw the mummy and approached with caution. But, they never imagine that a house plant might be scary. So, when the house plant looks up at them and says, “Hello”, they’re more than a little taken aback.

This year I didn’t do anything like that. I bought a bag of candy kisses and ate them. That was fun. Not as much fun as frightening small children, but it wasn’t bad.

Now I’m bored. I have nothing to do and no one to talk to. I hate that...don’t you? I guess I should have planned this Halloween a little better, but I’ve had other things on my mind. I’m in the mood to talk and I can’t think of a soul to call. I did speak to my sister, but she had a date with her husband. Apparently they were meeting in the bathtub. I should have asked her to just leave the phone on the hamper so I could feel more a part of things.

I drank a bunch of coffee so I wouldn’t fall asleep and now I’m all Darryl Strawberry wired and I don’t have anything to do. That was stupid. One should never drink a pot of coffee at 9 PM unless there’s a bunch of tinker toys or something like that to busy oneself with. At this point, I wish I had tinker toys. I would have something to do with my wide awake self.

Oh, my sister...who is, as I type this, getting lucky...wanted me to tell you that she wasn’t jealous of me and my divorce. There was something else that she added to that statement, but I forgot what it was. I could call her and ask her what it was, but something tells me she won’t remember right now either.

Whatever. I’m sure she’ll let me know if it was important. Well, I’ve run out of things to say and although that doesn’t usually stop me from saying stuff, I've been bored in the kitchen long enough. Now, I must go be bored in the living room.

See ya,

Meg

Don’t you just hate people?

I know I do. Between my ex and some wannabes, I’m having a crappy day. Since I won’t pick up when this guy calls, he decided that he must be too far away for me to hear the phone so he showed up on my doorstep today. Unannounced. Man, I hate that. Ordinarily, I’m more careful when I open the door but I thought he was a Jehovah’s Witness.

Imagine my surprise. I haven’t seen that perv since the date from hell when he tried kissing me with icky hard lips. I pushed him away and what he did next was very likely a criminal offense. He grabbed my arm and brushed my hand up against...IT and said, “See what you do to me?

As though the mere hint of an erection would be enough to get me to pull my pants off right there in the parking lot and say, “DO ME NOW YOU HANDSOME STUD!”

I got in my car and drove quickly away. Then, I didn’t answer my phone for a month. That was two months ago and he never stopped calling.

So, today, he shows up on my doorstep. I never told him where I lived and I don’t know how he found out. Thank God my son was here. I got rid of him and...

...THEN, I had to call my ex to ask him of he was EVER going to send the pay off money. “Of course,” he said, “Don’t I always?”

That did it. That infuriated me. I brought up the income tax return that he forged my name on and he started his bullshit, obviously thinking he was speaking to the timid little lady that he last saw. He has no clue.

So, I wrote to my congressman. And, next, I’m going to write to every other elected official that I can think of until someone gets me my half of that return. Short of that, I would like to press charges for forgery. If that numbskull would EVER have ONE conversation without lying, I would be more than reasonable. Ask anyone, I really am a nice person. But, I’m so sick of lies and men that want nothing more than a piece of ass that I am about to scream.

When people make me annoyed, I do tend to get somewhat defensive. And, when they really piss me off, I get downright OFFENSIVE.

I don’t like that. I don’t get a kick out of it, but I’ve just been treated like shit for so long that I can’t help myself.

Oh, while I’m at it, I have “friend” that has asked me for more than one favor over the past year. He needed clean urine and I supplied it for him. He needed an ear so he could bitch about his ex and I supplied that as well. Then, I asked him for 20 bucks until the next day and he said, “Oh...jeeeeez...” so I hung up on his ass. That shithead has cash, I wouldn’t have asked someone who I thought wouldn’t have it. I would GIVE a friend 20 bucks...I sure the heck wouldn’t mind loaning it to them for a day.

OK, I feel better now.

See ya,

Meg

I hope you're having a great Monday! After I let them draw blood out of me, I'm going to the top of Kennesaw Mountain.

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This is my beautiful daughter and her boyfriend.

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I just got home...

... and traffic was a nightmare this morning. I was driving along, just going with the flow of traffic when I realized that I was going 85 MPH. I wasn't acting all Speed Racer this time, I was just blending in. I couldn’t imagine what all these people were speeding to see. Well, eventually, I did find out. There was a bunch of cars going about 4 MPH and apparently, everyone was in a hurry to watch them do that. Since everyone else slowed down to watch the backs of the slow cars, I did too. It was not at all interesting so I don’t know what the rush to watch it was.

I have driven cars on 3 continents and with the possible exception of Paris, Atlanta has the unqualified worst drivers on this planet. They put up these silly signs that say things like 65 or 70. It’s not even April Fool’s Day. I think those cops have one helluva nerve giving me tickets for speeding, there isn’t a soul in this state that goes the speed limit.

It’s an absolutely beautiful day outside but it was a little chilly when I left so I wore my new jacket. I started thinking about when the last time I had such an expensive coat and oddly enough, it was right before I married Rick. I was given a lovely fox stroller (back in the day when they didn’t dump pig blood on you for wearing such things) the winter before I married Rick. The entire time we were married, I wore fleece jackets when it was cold. I did get a new coat once, but it was a cheap coat that was so large that it consumed me. It’s only been a week but I am enjoying my divorce more and more every day.

Rick used to say that he missed the “happy, self confident woman” that I was when he married me. I told him that if he would act like he wanted me and that I wasn’t worthless, I might feel better about myself. Shame on me for letting that happen. Anyway, I couldn’t be happier and I don’t feel the least bit worthless anymore.

Like I’ve said before, I’m not the least bit cryptic...when I want something or feel badly about something, I just come out and say it. I told him that if he would make love to me occasionally and treat me like a woman, I would be happier. But instead, he chose to go out and hide in trailer parks with some nasty wench with no more ethics than he has.

And do you BELIEVE that I BEGGED him to make love to me? I literally BEGGED a man to make love to me! I still can’t believe that I did that.

AND...I begged him to stay with me until I was healthy and could go back to work. OMG, sometimes I freak out imagining what my life would be like had he stayed. I was terrified to face the world alone. I was absolutely positive that I would never survive if he left. The doctors had given me a 50/50 chance of surviving and I just knew that there was no way that I could fight cancer alone. Well, here I am and he’s in Montana. Since the day he left, the only time that I’ve set eyes on him was in the mediation session. If I never see him again, I will be just fine AND dandy. Today I have to go have a couple of tests run to see if the radiation has worked. I have a feeling that the divorce worked.

I sincerely believe that had he stayed, and had I continued to allow him to treat me like dirt, I would be six feet under right now. My biggest fear turned out to be what saved my life, literally.

I don’t want to advocate divorce, I think that it’s an awful thing. But if anyone else is putting up with someone who makes them feel badly about themselves, I think a divorce is certainly in order. There is no way that I could have ever foreseen how happy I would be with that albatross out of my life. I was devastated to think that he would rather pay me a bunch of cash then to stay married to me. Now, I’m just pleased as punch when I get those money orders/checks.

I’m happy, I’m confident and trust me, I AM a woman. I’m definitely worth having and I would hate to be Rick when he realizes what he’s done and what he’s lost. It would be like getting drunk out of your mind, deciding to rob a bank, getting caught, waking up in jail with a hangover and facing years of misery. I’ve seen some of his women and I feel quite confident in saying that he will never, ever have one as good as the one he threw away.

He wanted to be rid of me so badly that he was willing to pay me $800 a month and keep me insured. Well, now all I need is for him to pay me.

This happy, self confidant woman wants a new pair of boots to match my new jacket and a nice teddy for my new man.

See ya,

Meg

The unidentified raccoon has struck again...

...and I had to clean that mess up by myself. It wasn’t there when I was outside without any pants on so it must have happened after the sun came up.

My son irritated the heck out of me today. I know that’s his job, but he doesn’t have to do it so well. He actually bitched that the kitchen was a mess. Can you BELIEVE that? I have no husband, I’ll be damned if I’m gonna be scolded by my own kid.

And what nerve he has anyway. So I had a few dirty dishes in my sink. That kid has a TRANSMISSION in his bedroom!

I’ve got half a mind to take a piece of that tranny and hide it. Let him wonder why it won’t work.

Other than my kid being a nit wit, my day is going along pretty well. Oh yeah, the no pants thing wasn’t good, but it didn’t have any legal repercussions so I’m fine with it. I just won’t go outside without pants on anymore.

My mother used to run errands in her jammies. One day I forgot my lunch money and she brought it to school wearing a nightgown that hung out of her coat, my father’s socks and her slippers. When she walked in, I was devastated. Somebody asked me if that was my mother and I said, “Oh no. She’s a poor lady that my mother pays to run errands for her.”

To this day I have guilt feelings for denying her but I was only 12 and that’s an age when most kids are pretty much humiliated 23 hours a day.

My mother always did odd things to make me feel uncomfortable, but I guess all mothers do. She had a photographer come to our house whenever she had another baby and being the good Irish woman that she was, she did that quite often. I hated those stupid sessions. Being the oldest, I always had to hold the new baby. One of those babies was an ugly little alien looking thing. He looked like a frog. My father actually gave him the moniker Freddy the Frog. For some reason, my dad gave all of us these demeaning little appellations when we were born. They were mainly used as tools in our verbal arsenals. I tried to steer clear of that particular bicker theme because I’m Peggy the Pig.

Anyway, I didn’t want to hold Freddy the Frog. He was ugly. But I had to. Mother made me. But...she couldn’t make me smile. A mother can only be so forceful when there’s a man with a camera in the room. So, that year, there’s a bunch of pictures of me pouting as I’m holding this unsightly infant in my arms.

What a brat.

A guy friend of mine just left. He’s a very sweet guy and he’s absolutely no more than a friend but he is a guy. He just came over to hang out for a while and that was nice. But, he’s not the man that I wanted here and I felt guilty with him in my house. As rotten as I felt all evening, I can’t imagine how people can live with themselves when they cheat on someone.

I think it’s easier to live with being cheated on than to be the one doing the cheating. Well, maybe not for everybody, but for me, it would be.

We watched a movie and when it was over, I literally told him that he had to leave. I told him why and he was cool with it. When I think of everything Rick did, I understand why he had to put it all back on me. You can’t cheat on a person and feel good about yourself unless you come up with some lame reason why the other person deserves it. And then, I guess you have to convince yourself that you’re right to do what you’re doing. Of course, there is no good reason to do that to another person so I guess you have to be a total creep to pull it off.

The more I think about it, the better I feel about losing that jack ass. I have a feeling that I’m going to think that more and more often as I enjoy my life. Cool.

Meg

It just occurred to me that I've never posted a picture of me with my glasses on. Well, here they are. See, I am just far too bored right now. I MUST go entertain myself, see ya!

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OK...I've been a slob long enough, I'm gonna go wash this rat's nest of hair.

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Meg,

I met a woman a few weeks while back and I think that I’m in love with her. But can you tell me how you tell the difference between being in love and being in lust? She is beautiful and I don't want to think that I'm just feeling this way because of the fact that she is so pretty...

Well, I can try. The usual answer is, you just know. But for the people who are too confused about their feelings to grasp that one, here are a couple of things that I go by:

1. Do you have ANY feelings at all for another woman? I don’t mean a woman like Angelina Jolie...most men have feelings for women like that...I mean do you have any feelings for women in your life? The absence of love is indifference and not anger. So, if you have any intense emotional feelings for someone else, chances are you aren’t really in love. At least not in the right way. You need to deal with the other feelings and get them out of the way before you bring another person into your emotional spectrum.

2. Does the other person make you want to be a better person? This is my biggest indicator. If a man makes me feel as though I want to do things better, for example, work...then it pretty much means that I’m in love. Remember that saying, "I love you not because of who you are, but because of who I am when I am with you..."? Well that's sort of what I mean here.

3. Do you think in terms of how your actions affect the other person? I think about how my actions would impact the man that I’m in love with. People in love are not generally selfish about things. If I want to go out one night, and I thought that it might bother the other person, I’m happy to stay home and be sure that he has nothing to worry about. That’s not to say that I’m a doormat, I just have my priorities in order.

4. Do you spend time just THIKING about them? This is a no-brainer and you are probably already aware of the, “I just can’t get her out of my mind.” thing.

5. Last but certainly not least, are you just happy all the time? When you’re in love, especially during the honeymoon phase of the relationship, you’re walking around smiling all the time. You could be down on your knees scrubbing the scum out of your bathtub and all of a sudden, you just start smiling. That type of inappropriate reaction to housework is a nutty indicator of a person in love.

You know, I actually thought that Rick was the love of my life (before he got all pricked out and despicable). I also thought that I would never feel that way about another man again. I HONESTLY thought that I would be happy with another man, but with thoughts of Rick in the back of my mind at all times.

Well, that’s not happening. To the contrary, thinking about Rick being with another woman doesn’t phase me at all. I hope he does find someone else. As far as my dealings with him are concerned, all I want is the alimony and I want it on time because the people to whom I owe money would like their money on time, too.

Anyway, I hope that I’ve answered your question. I kind of edited your long email to protect your privacy but I think I’ve addressed everything that you wanted to know. If I missed anything, email me again and I’ll do my best to answer you.

OK, now I’m going to go think about someone...one of my absolute favorite activities of late.

Meg

I just did something stupid...

...and I feel like a jack ass. I am quite sure that my face is still red. The first thing I do every morning is take the dog out. It’s so early that it’s still dark and I thought, what the hell, I’ll just go outside in my panties and t-shirt, no one can see me.

So, I tripped the motion detector lights and stood there stunned for a moment, standing in the only well lit area for a block, trying to figure out what to do....just run back in the house or pull the t-shirt down. I started pulling the t-shirt down and right then the cop who answered the call when my house was broken into pulled up next to my house to say hello since he saw me standing out there. I was behind the car and he asked me if I ever found my hammer so that he could fix my door. I didn’t know what to say, and what’s more, I couldn’t move closer to him to say it. I was hoping that he would stay in his car.

So, of course, he got out of his car and started walking up the driveway. Now I was wondering what the penalty for public indecency was and wondering if he would let me get some pants on before he hauled me down to the pokey. All of a sudden, I noticed a rug that I had hung over the fence behind me so I grabbed it and wrapped it around my waist. I was standing there with a black Jerry Springer shirt on and a blue shag rug around my waist.

He took one look at me and laughed. I wish that I could say I was laughing too. But I don’t think the humor of that situation will hit me for a day or so. I can appreciate why HE was laughing, but it won’t strike me as funny for a while. Certainly not until I warm up, it’s cold out there.

I never planned on staying out there for so long, closer to being naked than I was dressed. I need to remember to at least put on my robe from now on. Oh, and my slippers. My feet are still cold.

OK then, this could be the low point of my day and things will only be getting better, or it’s one of those days that is going to go downhill. I just can’t wait to find out.

Uh oh...it’s gonna go downhill. Do you remember hard lip dude who tried to make out with me on the bench after I told him how much I hated being hit on by men I barely know? Well, he just called. I didn’t answer the phone, That had to be two months ago and he hasn’t stopped calling. I cannot BELIEVE that a man would try for so long when he gets no answer....EVER. I suppose he’s decided to call me at this hideous hour to see if he could catch me too sleepy to avoid answering my phone.

I’m still waiting for the coffee to kick in. I had to go into my car to get creamer because I never did go get milk yesterday. I pulled on some jammy pants to do that, I’m not taking anymore chances.

My son drive my Kia to the auto parts store yesterday and told me that those lights all over the dashboard meant something. I told him not to tell me until he could fix them, I don’t want to know. As far as I’m concerned, if a car moves when I push the gas petal, it works.

Well, I finished doing nothing yesterday so today I have to do something. I’m not sure what, but I’m gonna go take a shower and get ready to do whatever strikes me as fun. I could go to the store and toss douche bags in men’s shopping carts, that’s ALWAYS fun for a laugh.

OK, then. I’m going to explore my local environment for something to do.

See ya,

Meg

I’d tell you what I did today...

...but it would bore the hell out of people who watch paid programming. I accomplished absolutely nothing and that was pretty much the plan. I did it and I did it well. And, I haven’t finished yet, I have some more nothing to do later.

I just figured I shouldn’t sit around and wait for something to happen and THEN write about it. I’m home all by myself and unless the dog starts to chat with me, nothing will probably transpire worth writing about.

Oh, I did avoid some Jehovah’s Witness’s earlier. There are three cars in the two driveways (OK two and a half, the Mustang is still minus a transmission.) and it would be sort of tough to believe that no one was home. But, it COULD happen.

And, I had an awful toaster experience earlier. I stuck four of those frozen french toast sticks in the slot and they all fell down under the toaster rack thing when it popped up. I turned it upside down and tried to dump them out but they wouldn’t come out. I just chopped them up trying to get them out that way. So, I went in through the bottom. After I got the chopped pieces off of the bottom, the chopped pieces above the wire thing fell out. All but one half of one french toast stick came out and that piece is still right there. I have crumbs all over the counter from the toaster struggle.

Then, I put my syrup in the microwave. They make a bottle specifically engineered to microwave and I stuck it in there...for 1 and a half minutes. That bottle swelled up like Veronica what’s her name from Willy Wonka.

I pulled it out and opened it and it blew up at me. Hot syrup all over myself. That was fun. And it was one of those things that you know you shouldn’t do but you don’t realize it until the brain has sent the signal and you can’t stop yourself from causing the impending danger. My fingers were about to apply pressure to the swollen container of Eggo syrup when my brain said, “Uh oh.”

There was nothing that I could do to stop it and now my shirt is full of syrup and the counter is full of crumbs. Being a slob helps get me out of so many unpleasant little obligations. When I’m sitting at my desk with syrup on my shirt, I’m not opening the door to anyone, not a Jehovah’s Witness, not a neighbor, no one. And, I can’t be expected to go out like this so I don’t. I don’t have any milk...but I can do without the Fruity Pebbles for now.

So, that pretty much sums up my day so far. The dog is attacking me with his big slimy boxer cheeks and I don’t mean to sound like a ballbuster, but trust me...that dog’s balls are history. He hasn’t humped my leg yet but I don’t want to be there when he gets a yen to. So...off with his testicles. It worked for the cat. I never tried it on Rick. It’s not that I didn’t think of it, it’s just that with my hair color, a blue dot would sort of clash with anything I might wear.

Well, I need to do nothing in the other room now so I’m gonna go away. But, when I get bored of what I’m doing, I’ll be back to tell you about it.

Meg

This cracked me up.

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I just put the pitcher of Kool-aid...

...back in the fridge. It was empty. I poured the last of it into my glass and put the empty pitcher back in the refrigerator. Now, this is living.

I even drink milk straight out of the carton. This evening when I was making dinner I was too hungry to wait for it to cook so I made a bunch of peanut butter and jam crackers and washed them down with a gallon of milk. I didn’t drink the entire gallon, but I did suck down quite a bit of it. These are some of my favorite things. Oh, I like cereal too. Right now I have the good stuff, Cap’n Crunch, Froot Loops, Cocoa Puffs and Fruity Pebbles. I love this freedom crap.

I even leave the lid off the toothpaste and I don’t care.

I put onions in food and laugh out loud when I do it. There’s no jugheaded little brat whining about the mushrooms either. If I want a stuffed artichoke for dinner, then I eat a damned stuffed artichoke. I’m just giddy here.

I don’t want to paint my bedroom pink but I could if I wanted to. I get the best pillows and absolute power over the remote control. This is pretty cool, actually.

There are days when I wake up in my jammies and go to bed in the very same jammies and nobody knows the difference. All I need is a block of cheese and I could be as happy as Costanza in his messy apartment.

The toilet lid is always down so I never get those middle of the night Cold and Low’s that I was subjected to when Rick had access to my facilities. Somewhere about halfway, I just go on faith that the toilet seat is where I left it and when it’s not, I hit that sucker pretty hard because I’ve already given into the momentum of gravity instead of my own purposeful movement.

What’s wrong with you guys? Why can’t you just put the damn thing back down again? If you can get it up in the first place, you ought to be able to bend your ass over and put it back down. I like to leave as few traces of myself in the bathroom as humanly possible. I would think that pride alone would get you to put that bastard back down where you found it. And to the guys who have given up and just leave the thing down all the time...if you sprinkle when you tinkle, be a sweetie and wipe the seatie.

Ah, not to fall into the toilet at 2:49 am. Life truly is sweet.

Well, it’s another weekend...and you know what that means...people somewhere are doing yard work.

Suckers.

I’m growing this semi-tropical waste land out in my yard. With any luck at all, wild animals will take up residence and then I’ll have a small zoo.

I’ll charge the neighborhood kids to come in and see the beaver dam where the hose has been leaking for about a year. As it is, every bird in Marietta lives out there so the aviary is about done. There’s some bamboo growing along the fence, maybe a stray panda will show up and decide that my yard is a great place to hide from large predators. I’m not sure what eats crab grass, but I’m ready for that animal too. Maybe a nice little billy goat would be happy out there.

I already have lizards, and that just drives me insane. Just knowing that there are lizards crawling all over my house is enough to make me hammer the windows shut like the final scene in The Birds. When I leave my house, I quietly take little steps out there until I get to the walkway and then I run straight for the car and get the hell out of dodge.

I am having to kill spiders on my own which is awful. I grab them with a handful of paper towels so that I can’t feel the crunch and then I run, screaming, into the bathroom and flush that sucker down the toilet.

Once, I threw pans of boiling water into the bathroom to get a wasp that had decided that he needed some deodorant or something. It took three pots of boiling water to get that bastard down and then I threw towels on it and the giant puddle of water. Later, when I went back and picked up the towels, that thing was gone. I never did find it. It’s in this house somewhere, but I don’t know where.

When I do move from this place, I’ll have to let all the crap in the attic go with the house. I have no intention of going up into that bat’s nest. I hear scratching sounds up there and I think that they’re chipmunks but I don’t want to come into contact with any house aliens. I’ll let someone go get my Christmas ornaments, but the rest of that stuff can stay.

Well, it’s early morning and I’m still in my jammies. I’m gonna see how long I can stay in them. I think I’ll watch Thelma and Louise and Steel Magnolia’s now.

See ya,

Meg

I received this email from my sister just now...

"Nice jacket. Pay the ticket airhead."

AIRHEAD? That’s a fine how do you do. I guess she’s just jealous, I’m divorced and she’s not. :):):)

I have the 70’s music channel on my TV. My cable service has a bazillion music channels. I love it. I’m having a rather lazy day. I feel like watching old Blondie reruns but I can never find them here. But not to worry, we DO have the golf channel.

There are a lot of old classics that never get shown. Did you know that some nimrod bought up all of the Little Rascals because it was so “politically incorrect”? Isn’t that stupid?

Sometimes I think we ARE at 451. There is very little, if anything, that would not offend someone for one reason or another, and to ban things on that basis is a frightening precedent. But that’s just me. I’m funny like that.

Call ME an airhead.

So, now what to do...ah, Grand Funk. I think I’ll do the Locomotion. BRB.

OK, that was fun.

I need a painter dude now. I have to paint this place. It’s making me nuts. I didn’t want to because I had stenciled a bunch of stuff at the top and that took a very long time. My arms were KILLING me from reaching up and doing that and I don’t want to paint over it. But, the last time I had the place painted I chose the wrong color. Now I’m annoyed and I have to do it all over again.

That’s one thing my sister has that I don’t, the built in husband/painter dude that is in every man. It is a trade off that I readily accept at this point. Of course, I do have to paint the damn house by myself and I don’t know what the hell I am doing. My knowledge of painting comes from what I’ve learned watching Ronco edge trimmer commercials.

I think I’d just like to rent a sprayer and spray the hell out of everything. I’ll just pick one color and do the entire house, ceilings and walls in that color. Yep. That’s the plan.

I’ll use a nice semi-gloss, the color white that has a tiny squirt of blue, just enough to give it that bright white that I like so much and it’s also easy to clean. I don’t usually have to clean the ceilings, but you never know.

Now, I need some Kool-aid...red, I think. BRB.

Damn, I was out of red, I had to make purple.

I think I’ll go soak in a warm tub. I can float in that thing. I like that. Of course, my legs are bent, but I am floating except for the side of my feet which do kinda slide across the bottom of the tub. But, for all intents and purposes, I'm floating.

I’ll make bubbles, too. Do you ever make winter wonderlands in the bubble bath? I do. I wish I could have the music in the tub, that would be perfect. When I win the lottery, I think I’ll have music piped throughout the house. I have the ability make music play in the bathroom but there are too many wires involved, especially when I’m in a bathtub full of water. I’ll just sing to myself. Yeah, I do that too. Usually Carpenters but the other day I sang Little Arrows. That’s an old one.

Then, I had it stuck in my head for two days. I’d be pushing the shopping cart and singing, “Little arrows that will hit you once, and hit you once again....” It really got stupid there after a while. The real bitch of it is that to get rid of it, I started singing Down in the Boondocks and now I can’t get THAT one out of my head.

Allrighty then, I'm off to sing in the bathtub.

OK...

...I’ve been thinking. And it’s time to stop. I’m gonna suck on one of those Curiously Strong Altoid Tangerine Squirts. You know, I did find myself wondering from where they obtained that wonderful tangerine taste so I guess they really, really, are...Curiously Strange.

Of course, it could be that I myself am curiously strange but whatever the case may be, them candies are some good suckin’.

So, here I am, thinking at you again. OK, this is the inspiration that I just had...being around me is pretty much like reading the blog. Instead of writing it down, I actually say this shit. Really. Ask anyone who knows me. Another thought (and this was an odd one)...I AM THE BLOG. Yikes.

I navigated that thought into some other thought that gave me complete control of the situation so I am NOT the blog. But, I am LIKE the blog. I hate the word blog. I have now said it so many times that I not only hate the word but I also doubt it’s existence.

My web cam is pointing at me. Did you ever wonder if you were under constant surveillance by your web cam? I used to think that there was a secret camera in the shower head so I was always a good girl when I was in the bathtub. Well, almost always.

My mother hid her copy of the Sensuous Woman in my underwear drawer when I was 12. My father found it there. He looked at me and decided that I probably didn’t have anything to do with it and he took it to my mother and for some reason, I remember that it got thrown away. I guess my mother never finished reading it. But, what neither one of them, nor anyone else on the planet for that matter, ever knew was, I DID. Tee hee.

Well, there I go, thinking again. It’s these kind of thoughts that I should be staying away from bearing in mind the current state of affairs.

Baseball, baseball’s always a safe thought. So, the White Sox won the World Series. Big fucking deal. Call me when the Cubs win that damn thing. In the meantime, I’m just gonna have that special brand of sanguinity towards the Cubs and malevolence towards all others that we Cub fans are so famous for.

I’ll throw a cup of beer on the right fielder’s head. Hell, I DID throw a beer at Reggie Jackson. I missed. It landed in front of him and he turned around and looked up into the mezzanine but couldn’t decide which booing fan had launched the fermented hops and barley at him. I just wanted him to know that I saw him trap that damn ball and that he was “A BUM, REGGIE...YOU”RE A BUM!!!”

I’m sure he got the message.

Yeah, we are some good baseball fans, aren’t we? Who else would throw a home run ball back onto the field? We hate you all.

When I was a kid I used to sneak into Wrigley Field on the off days and watch them practice. I would wait for a truck to come in through the service entrance and run in along the side of him away from the guard. I never once got caught. I ran straight into the stands and sat on the dug out. Anyone who would have asked questions just assumed that I was with one of the players. I met a bunch of them. One day the Phillies were there instead. I was only 17 and Tug McGraw hit on me. I was so freaked out that I never did that again.

The day after that happened, I went to the game and the Cubs were winning 14 to 2 in the second inning. They ended up losing 15 to 16. I couldn’t believe it. Now I’m used to it. Whatever.

I’m still sucking on that same tangerine squirt. Isn’t that amazing? Well, I guess it’s really more curious than it is amazing. It's really my fault. I’ve been doing some rather passive sucking while I was writing this thing.

Obviously, a more vigorous sucking action is called for.

Now, see what I do? Shame on me. I’m really a nice girl, I just get a little playful at times. So, cut me some slack, I’m only kidding.

I was thinking alone again...

...and it occurred to me that I had a chat room...DUH. If anyone wants to watch me pontificate later, I would be happy to oblige. Well, I'm only kidding about the ponificating thing, I would love to hear other people's thoughts too. I don't know what time but maybe I should do it twice, the house is clean and I spent my quota a shopping money on that jacket so I can't really spned any money so I will just hang out there a couple of times for the hell of it. How about 1 pm and 5 pm? That's EST of course.

OK, then. I'll be there.

meg

Well, Happy Friday to you all!

I’m sober again. I’m even over the hangover. It wasn’t a bad one but I just hate that feeling. So, I drank early, got wasted early, went to bed early and woke up sick in the middle of the night. I took my sure thing hangover cure:

1. A big glass of water.

2. 2 aspirins (although if you have vicodin, codeine or percocet, those work better and I did.)

3. Glass of orange juice (this step is not necessary if the hangover was caused my screwdrivers or Harvey Wallbangers. Also, vitamin C tablets will suffice in the absence of OJ.)

4. A Watchamacallit candy bar (That is my personal favorite, you could really use any of the chocolate, caramel or nougat mixtures available at any store in the world.)

5. 1 cup of very strong coffee

6. 2-0.5 mg. xanax

Add ingredients, one at a time, to stomach. Lie down. Close eyes. Go back to sleep.

See that’s why I have to start early. I don’t want to have the entire day wasted nursing a hangover. So, I started early yesterday and now I’m fine as wine!

I just checked and I actually spelled Whatchamacallit right on the first try. I didn’t even peek at the wrapper. I did verify the answer with the wrapper, so I was right.

I’m a good speller. My parents should have entered me in spelling bees. They had 6 kids and being the oldest, after the second kid was born when I was 14 months old, they sort of forgot about me. Anyway, I wish I had the encouragement from my parents that I tried to give to mine.

That’s a really, really good idea. For some kids, those types of things seem to be such a daunting task that without the encouragement of a parent, they wouldn’t ever have the confidence to enter certain competitions. So, if you have kids, tell them that they CAN do it, whatever IT is in their lives. If you don’t know, ask them. Find out what it is they’d like to do and tell them that they can do it and that you will help them do it. (Without overdoing the help, of course.)

Damn, I sure can digress, can’t I? I go off on these tangents and sometimes I never come back to what I was saying in the first place. I don’t know how some of you can call this “good writing”, I feel as though I am rambling. This is just what’s going on in my head, put down into words.

That’s all any of it is. I spend most of my time home alone. That is of course, if I’m not at traffic court. And when I’m alone, I think A LOT. That’s why it was so hard for me to believe Rick’s answer to my query, “Whatcha thinking about?”

“Nothing.”

I used to think that was impossible, I’m ALWAYS thinking about something. Even if I’m just contemplating my belly button, my mind is always at work. I tried to think about nothing once. It took a while but for one nanosecond, I did it. It scared THEE HELL out of me. That one infinitesimal flash of brain emptiness literally freaked me out. I was afraid my brain would stop and never start again.

Apparently, the Empty Brain Syndrome is NOT one of Rick’s phobias.
I’ve spoken to a lot of people in the past year, not all necessarily as bright as I prefer, but not morons either. I love it when they talk. Rick never did. I had to carry the conversation for 24 years all by myself. It’s so foreign to me to actually LISTEN. I like it. And when I’m lucky enough to speak to a REALLY bright person, I just LOVE it. I knew there were smart people in America, I just couldn’t find them from in front of the television.

So anyway, all of the things I write are the things I think about. I started writing my thoughts down because I had no one to tell them to. I sat here alone for a few months thinking when I was really sick. Rick left in September and I didn’t start writing things down until January. Up until then, I just thought to myself.

Sometimes I even interview me. I’m a fascinating interview. I have so many important things to say.

Well, I’m gonna go think some more. But this time it will be about Todd and I can’t write those things down. :):):)

See ya,

Meg

OK...

...I popped the cork, and it didn’t hurt me! Now I’m sucking champagne and I must say, it tastes good! I have a couple of other things in mind as well tonight. Oh my, that champagne just gave me a warm feeling in my belly. That was nice. I have the music blasting and I’m doing the kitchen dancing thing again.

I love dancing in my kitchen but if memory serves, dancing is fun wherever you do it. The last time I was dancing out of my kitchen was at my brother’s wedding in 1995 and it was with my son. Now that’s just not right. Not that my son is a bad dancer, but you can’t really get down with your kid now, can you?

I can’t hip check him and I can’t shake my “put any female body part here”. It’s just not done.

It’s slowly occurring to me that I’m as free as a bird and I like it.

I can do whatever I want to do and one of the things I want to do is head out of the house here in a few minutes. Todd is going out for a while and won’t be calling until later which is good because my new phone is charging itself up.

So, I think I’ll go out and bug people. That’s always fun. Yeah, that’s what I’m going to do. But as sweet as I am, I think that being bugged by me isn’t so bad. I really am a sweetheart, ask anyone. I like me. If I didn’t, I would change what I didn’t like. It looks like I’ve done just that, doesn’t it? I got rid of the mendacious man that has been the bane of my existence for so many years.

That in itself has made me feel so good, for so many reasons. Some men, not ALL of them, but a pretty good chunk of them, turn things back on the woman when she has a complaint. That effectively shuts her up and she decides to keep her mouth shut next time. The next thing you know, you are being served with divorce papers and and then a reporter calls you and asks what you think of the blog that your wife just wrote about you in which she mentions the malfunctioning appendage that you call your manhood. Life can be a bitch.

This is an example of what I’m talking about. She says to you, “I don’t understand why you've been so distant. “You haven’t made love to me in two months, what’s up?”

Now, that’s one thing that will make any female insecure. So, when he answers:

“Well, you’re always bitching about me not making love to you. That’s why I don’t, you act like you’re the man. Now you‘re acting all insecure and it makes me not want to be close to you anymore. Our sex life just isn‘t as intense since you started acting like that.”

OK then, watch me shut up forever. What woman wouldn’t feel secure after hearing something like that from her husband? Damn. I’m so well out of that one, ‘ey?

OK, back to bugging people. I wonder where my hand buzzer is. That’s a classic and I love it. I don’t know where my little cigarette stink bombs went but I will look for them.

This champagne is pretty damn good. I should buy it more often. Yes. I think I will.

Oh, I just put on the sweetest little top I’ve seen in forever. I must take a picture of it. Of course, it could be like that time I won the tri-fecta and bought champagne for everyone and then, after drinking a BUNCH of it myself, I bought that hideous cowgirl hat. But...I think this top is pretty cute, I bought it when I was sober. Of course, I didn’t try it on until just now, but I have faith in my sober choices.

Oh yeah, I was right. This top is pretty shear and I decided that I finally had the perfect shirt to wear my bustierre under. Yesireebob, it most certainly does look good. And damned if I don't feel like one sexy bitch.

See ya later.

Meg

Now that's a cute shirt. I couldn't back up all of the way to show it to you. Oh, Manfred Mann is on now, I'm gonna dance again! You know, I can sing the ENTIRE song Blinded By the Light. Now, that's good.

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A toast to me!

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This is my plan for this evening. I hate that I have to pop the cork myself, it's such a dangerous thing. But, well worth the effort.

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I had another traffic court to go to today...

...this one was for the last speeding ticket. I got a continuance because there was a really cute leather jacket that I wanted and if I paid the ticket I wouldn’t have been able to afford the jacket. It’s really just a matter of priorities, isn’t it? If you had a choice between a cute leather jacket and a speeding ticket, what would you do?

Now I need to get some boots to match it but I’ll worry about that later. Oh, yeah, gloves and a scarf too. Whatever, I’ll get that all some other time.

I need to buy a new phone so that I can talk to Todd without the battery wearing out. If it were anyone else, the battery would be my failsafe. If I can’t get someone off the phone, I know it’ll die soon anyway. But I like him and I hate when we get cut off.

I found that gasoline smell. Oddly enough it was gasoline. My son put the gas can on a plastic box with CD’s in it (On a fold-out table in my kitchen that I use for overflow guests from the other table.) and the gas reacted with the plastic and now the can is glued to the box. So, I stuck them both outside. I don’t know what that kid was thinking.

I lost a gold bracelet at the coat store and they just called to tell me that they found it. It’s a good thing I was in the leather gallery, that place is locked up. If it had been anywhere else, someone would have found it and walked off with it. Every once in a while, I get lucky like that.

I never would have been able to spend this much money on a jacket if I had still been married. I like this. I can do something totally irresponsible and there’s no one to get mad at me. It was my money and I spent it on myself without having to answer to anyone. This is so cool.

Another cool thing is speaking to someone with a brain. After being with the nit wit for so long, speaking to Todd is like speaking to an interesting mix of Einstein and Seinfeld. I love it. It’s a challenging thing to have a conversation with him. AND, I don’t have to explain the big words. I’ve always loved words and Todd knows a bunch of them. I’m not gonna keep on kicking myself but I swear, I don’t know what I was thinking when I married Rick. You think that a guy is just quiet and mysterious and then after a while, you realize that he’s just too stupid to contribute to any intelligent conversation. If I had to pick one word to describe Rick, it would be limited. It fits in so very many ways.

But I digress. My point was that I really enjoy speaking to Todd and I look forward to hearing from him. I don’t know why but I have that female “fear”, for lack of a better word, of calling men. I want to, I really do. But I usually don’t. I might if I have a good reason or if I haven’t heard from him in a while and need to see what’s up. But all in all, I leave that up to you guys.

Now, that doesn’t mean that we don’t wait for you to call. I was waiting for Todd to call and I got all stupid and worried. If something is bothering me, I will just come out and ask you about it. Some guys get the feeling that I shouldn’t “bitch” like that but I don’t. I ask those types of questions very matter-of-factly. The best I can figure is that usually when such topics come up it does mean an argument with most other women. It takes guys a while to see that I ask questions because I’m thinking about something that’s bothering me and the best way to put a stop to that is to just ask a question. I am very even keeled about it, I’m just curious. Would you rather I keep them inside of me and become bitter? That’s where bitches come from and, despite my moments, I am not truly a bitch. I’m not really even a bitch at all. I CAN act like a bitch if the situation calls for it, but in general, I’m pretty damn reasonable.

I got a little mad at myself because I underestimated Todd and that was unfair. My mind takes a stupid little misunderstanding and runs with it.

I think that it’s a good thing that it happened because I learned something from it and I feel all happy again. Whew, that was a close one.

I’ve decided to make a conscious effort not to make Todd pay for Rick’s mistakes. I wouldn’t want to be put in that position and I don’t want to do it to anyone else. Old habits are hard to break and I have this stupid habit of thinking the worst in all situations. Face it, in the past few years, I’ve been right. I have to get used to this. Not being wrong, but not worrying about it in the first damn place. Especially when a guy is so nice and funny at all times. I am seriously worried that my cheeks will have so much exercise that the muscles in them will make them grow huge.

I am not in the least bit worried about this guy. I am not an idiot. He is a gentleman and of that I am sure. I have a pretty good insight into people and I can size them up rather quickly. It comes from the large number of first dates that I’ve had. I can tell if ones a creep, perv or a childish alcoholic. I can also tell when a guy is just a normal guy. There are things I notice that assure me that a guy is a loser or a dangerous character and equally so, I notice certain things that assure me that a guy is normal and relatively harmless.

Trust me, if there’s one thing I know, it’s men. I just love you guys.

See ya,

Meg

Here is my jacket. The picture doesn't do it justice.

Oops...

...I left the back door open all night as I slept on the couch just ten feet away. Isn’t that stupid? It's because since the break in, the door won't shut without using the dead bolt and I didn't use it. I also let the dog sleep outside of his kennel which turned out to be a good thing. He slept in front of the couch guarding me all night. And this is the really cool part, he didn’t eat any of my stuff! The last time I let him sleep out of his kennel he ate my remote. Once he chewed the bottom out from under my bed. I don’t let him do that often, but I do try it once every blue moon. This is the first time he hasn’t eaten something of mine since February.

Now, I haven’t gone through the entire house, it’s possible that my spare room is trashed. But if it is, I don’t want to know until I’ve had some coffee.

My son, on the other hand, hasn’t been so good to me. Yesterday morning, he brought a huge piece of car into the house and asked if he could leave it in his room because of the break in. He has a beautiful Mustang which he adores and guards, whether it is intact or in individual parts. He loves each and every piece of that car. I woke up yesterday after taking a nap and found his entire transmission in the house. It’s all in his room, but the smell lingers throughout the entire house. I guess it’s the tranny that smells so bad, I can’t find any gasoline soaked rags or anything like that. I better have cereal for breakfast, I wouldn’t want to turn the stove on right now. I didn’t realize how large a transmission was. Damn, that’s a big piece of car.

I feel like Andy Griffith, finding a dismantled car in my place and Goober standing next to it.

I asked him, “Why can some people can take them apart and fix them in one day but you can’t?

He said, “Experience.”

I didn’t like that answer. I drive that car every so often and I don’t like the fact that the transmission was rebuilt by someone who admits that they have no experience doing such things. I never wanted to know why the car moved when I shifted gears, now I know what all of that looks like and that’s like being a nurse and having a headache. I’m sure it’s a brain tumor or an aneurism. That little bit of knowledge is a crazy thing.

Now, when I’m traveling down the highway shifting gears, I will be imagining the parts of that sucker falling apart. My son taking out the transmission of a car is like me doing a kidney transplant. I have a general idea of where everything goes and I’ve seen it done, I just haven’t ever done it before myself.

Oh well, I feel better driving my Kia with all the warning lights on. I don’t know what they mean and I don’t know what could happen so there isn’t anything to worry about. So, to the guys who want to know what women think, that’s what we think about cars and stuff we don’t understand.

When it comes to machinery, ignorance is bliss. What I don’t know can’t hurt me. The worst that really could happen is another one of those engines blow up on me and that’s not so bad. You don’t see it coming and it’s over before you figure out what happened so what difference does it make if it does happen? If men aren’t gonna tell me to put oil in the stupid things, they can’t blame me when I blow them up.

I found out that they don’t really “blow up.” I don’t know where words like that come from, maybe from the sound it makes. Apparently, I just sent a piston through the block. Nothing actually blew up, and I was somewhat disappointed. There was just a loud sound and the car stopped. No big deal.

I can’t prevent stuff like that but I am resourceful. I can get out of situations better than most people. My car was stuck in the driveway after a blizzard and all of my brothers and my father couldn’t get it unstuck. When I wanted to leave, I went in the back seat where I had a bunch of curtains and I wrapped them around the tires. Then, I spread curtains out behind all 4 tires and backed right out of the driveway.

I enjoyed driving in Chicago. I had such a crapped out car that I would just ram it into stuff if I had to. Like snow banks. If I lost control of it, I would drive it into a 6 foot wall of snow. There was always plenty of snow lining the roads to drive into. I used to bump people who didn’t move when I wanted them to. I didn’t do that very often, but I could always get out of it pretty well. I wouldn’t have done it to a Roller Derby Queen, but it was kind of fun back before people started suing you for everything.

I just had to tip-toe through the tranny to get to my son’s alarm clock and turn it off. I almost tripped on a big jagged thing and I scratched my ankles. That sucked. I hate men.

Not really, I love them. Really. I guess it’s like you guys love women. You like them all even though there are those pyscho wenches from hell. They couldn’t earn that title unless some guy had given in to them. So, even though there are evil men out there, I still like men in general. I don’t know why. I guess it’s just nature. Whatever it is, I like men.

I prefer to have one of my own, but if I don’t, I would like to nab the rest of them one at a time. Like I said last spring when I started my first date thing, any man can be nice on a first date and I like to have a bunch of them. If there was a good one, I’d grab him if I could. But if not, I just go on to the next one. That’s all. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. Of course, every tenth guy or something like that is a total ass and I end up ditching him at Faces and hitching a ride home with a friend.

Oh well. That’s the chance you take when you go out with a different guy. And, like I said, if I can’t have my own, then I usually want one thing when I wake up in the morning...a different guy.

That doesn’t mean that I necessarily go and get one that day so don’t take me wrong, I don’t want to earn that “unadulterated sex” bullshit. If I were to do that, I’d tell about it privately on some web site that you had to pay to access. I could certainly talk some shit if I wanted to. I did that when I was doing stand up.

That was funny because I am just so sweet looking...you never expect me to say the things that I do. At least that’s what they tell me.

Do you remember yesterday when I said that I had “references”? Well, I wasn’t kidding. I’ve given them doing stand up. I actually tell the things that I’ve heard in moments of heated passion. You guys say some funny stuff. Thanks for that.

I can’t list my references right now but I’ll tell you what I say when people request me to do certain things, “Ask me again when I’m drinking.” I may tell you sometime.

On that note, I’m gonna go away for a while and clean something.

See ya,

Meg

Oh my...

...I can be such a jack ass. It’s been an entire day and I haven’t gone out to celebrate my divorce. That’s just driving me nuts. You know, the way I see it, I have a couple of options. I could go out and have two drinks and drive home safely, or I could go out and have a bunch of drinks and hitch a ride home with a freind. I suppose a cab is an option but for some reason I feel very uncomfortable in cabs. I don’t know if it’s the strange man in the car of that filth in the back seat with me but I just don’t like them. And, I get very impatient. If I want to leave, I don’t want to have to wait. Especially if I’m 3 sheets to the wind.

I’d like to go to downtown Atlanta and have some fun but it seems so dangerous. I don’t know why, I always hung out in Chicago and had a bunch of fun without being scared. Maybe it’s just because I haven’t done it in so long. I used to have a bunch of fun in Chicago. I would go to great places and I would do it often. Now I’m stuck here where that freaky bald dude left me. My life was so cool and I purposely gave it up, I actually THOUGHT about that and made a conscious decision to marry a lying cheat instead of just enjoying the life that I had. That was so fucking stupid.

Men didn’t send me drinks, they sent bottles of Dom. I danced at the top of the John Hancock Building. I dated a Bear dude. I went to some of the best museums in the world and met famous doctors. And I chucked it all to marry a creepy guy who lived in a podunk town in Virginia. If the end of that silliness isn’t cause for celebration, then I don’t know what the hell is.

OK, so what should I do first? Well, besides the obvious. I think that first I should go shopping, don’t you? I got the pedicure, now I need some cute shoes to show it off. I lost all of the appropriate divorce weight. I can fit into anything that I want to and I want to go see what I can do with all of this stuff I have here.

One would think that a woman would be more confident when she has a man who loves her and tells her how wonderful she is. Well, that didn’t happen with me at all. Since I feel so much more confident now than I have in years, I can only assume that it was being with Rick for so long that made me feel so bad about myself. Damn. That was close. If he hadn’t been such a prick last year, I might have spent the rest of my life with him. Yikes.

So, I suppose that I should get up and get dressed so that I can go and find something fun to do. I’m gonna do that now.

See ya.

Meg

The congratulatory emails are still coming in...

...and I have to thank you all for that. It’s amazing how happy I am after what I was sure would be the saddest day of my life. It’s my one day anniversary and I’m still grinning. If I had known how wonderful this would feel, I would have done this years ago. I wish I would have had a crystal ball or something like that so that I could have seen what this day would be like. I could have saved myself a whole lot of heartache and fear. But I guess it all happens the way it’s supposed to happen.

I should also thank all of the men who have offered to help me put and end to my self imposed celibacy. I think I’ve got it covered. I hope so anyway. I hope to be having Todd come here next month and the plan is that he will be bringing his penis with him. But it’s nice to know that there are so many of you willing to sacrifice yourselves for me, I’m so very touched by your generosity. If anything changes, I’ll be sure to let you know.

I must admit that I’m having a bit of a tough time with the waiting thing. I suppose that after all this time I can wait a little bit longer but I might get a bit grouchy at times. I just called in my xanax refill so maybe that will help a little. Damn, my back hurts. I would love to have a backrub, I don’t think I’ve ever had a nice backrub and that’s a shame. I’ve given plenty of them so it doesn’t seem fair that I haven’t had one now, does it?

The more I think about things, the more I realize how much I missed while I was married to the 90 second wonder.

I think that I’m going to go out tonight. I hate going out by myself but I don’t seem to have many options. I’ve been sitting here alone every night for a few weeks now and I’m getting pretty bored of that.

You know, I’ve always wondered why men read this thing. I expected women in the same situation to read it. But from the beginning, it’s been at least 90% men that have written to me. I was surprised and confused. I expected men to say things like, “What a bitter skank you are.” But they don’t, they seem to get a kick out of it and I just got an email that explained why:

I found your blog to be both amusing and sexy-cute....For a moment it was nice to know how and what a woman thinks about.

Well that’s just too sweet. We think about the same things that guys think about...I think. Well, I suppose that there are as many different ways to think as there are people. For the guys that DO care what women think, we think that things like this are a tad insulting:

...you are my fantasy come true. a MILF that wants nothing more than to have unadulterated sex and be done with me...

Now, when in the heck did I say that I wanted sex with someone and be done with them? I said I was horny, not sleazy.

Men. What can you do. Can’t live with them, can’t get them to mow the lawn. Oh well. Maybe I’d reconsider the MILF-loving dude if he would come over here and mow my lawn. I’m not stupid enough to sleep with someone just because they say that they are really, really good. I’ve been burned by that line before. All men think that they are really, really good. Very few are. How’s that for what a woman thinks?

You would think that even if a guy just wanted sex, he would be smart enough to sweet talk a lady. It’s amazing how many men think that all they have to do to get laid is say, “You know, I’m large and I’m good, wanna fuck?” I suppose it works with some women, but not women with a brain. If Elvis impersonators can get laid, I suppose anyone can but I will just never understand that type of guy. And, I most assuredly do not understand the type of woman that falls for that crap. Anyone in the world can get laid, all you have to do is lower your standards. I’m not about to do that and I’m certainly not gonna fall for the “I’m really good in bed” line.

I really AM good. It’s been a while but I haven’t forgotten how. I have references. There aren’t that many men who are as good to their partners as I am. That’s one very good reason that I don’t just give it away willy-nilly. I have found that when you do that, it's usually very disappointing.

OK, I’m exhausted. I’m going to lie down for a while and I’ll be back after a while.

See ya,
Meg

Glad to read that you'll be continuing to writing online. Reading what you've written has been something I look forward to each day. Your blog hasn’t been just about your divorce anyway. It was well written and amusing chronical of your daily life. Keep at it.

I can’t say no to a bunch of emails like that. You guys have truly made my day. I didn’t realize how much you guys enjoyed this silly thing and there’s no way I would disappoint anyone who has so many nice things to say. OK, then...onward and forward.

I was up late last night and early this morning. I’m exhausted but I can’t go to sleep just yet. I have some things to take care of and this is one of them. Damn, now I feel as though I have a lot to live up to and the pressure is on!

My son is taking his car apart in my driveway and I hate that. But, if I don’t let him do it he won’t ever leave and that can’t be. I look forward to his leaving. I looked at another house in a town called Cartersville yesterday and I liked it. Cartersville is an adorable town and I loved it when we drove through it on the way to visit the Etowah Indian Mounds. I wanted to move there when we first moved to Gogia but a certain ex-husband of mine didn’t want to so we didn’t. Ain’t that a bitch? I earned more money than he did and yet we did what he wanted to do which was usually nothing. Here I am, my first day of freedom and the best that I can do is look at houses. That’s OK, I’m sure I’ll find more stuff to do later on.

Another annoying thing is the fact that I can finally get laid with impunity and I am all of a sudden finding myself jonesing for a man who lives in another state...and not a close state like Alabama, but a far away state. Luckily, he isn’t in Montana...and even more luckily my ex is. Most people have their ex’s a hell of a lot closer than that. But, if you’re going to get a divorce, it’s nice when the ex goes to Montana. I think that’s the purpose of Montana. I could be wrong, but I can’t see any other reason for a state so cold and so isolated.

Oh, I love my nails! I’ve never had a pedicure and I've only had one manicure and that was on my wedding day. The entire time that I was married, no matter how much I worked, I could never afford things like that. But, I’m going to find a way to do a lot of nice things for myself. Hell, there isn’t anyone else to do them for!

Yesterday when I was driving to Cartersville, I had a strange feeling hit me. I believe that it’s called being major league horny. It was one of those feelings that makes a woman afraid of a spinning washing machine. It was a bit frightening. It smacked me right in my &%$@& while there was a tanker carrying gasoline right next to me. Can you imagine, I finally get close to being a free woman and I get killed in a car accident caused by horniness. It’s not here now but I have a feeling it’s gonna be back soon. If I didn’t know any better, I would think that my efforts at become a man were working.

I don’t really want to be a man...I hate shaving. Oh, and I would hate to pee standing up as well. And how do you guys pull that thing out of the hole in those underpants? Why don’t you just pull them down a little bit? It seems so silly to put that hole there. My guess is you just get a kick out of finding a hole for your wanger 7 times a day. Whatever.

Well, it’s cold here in Georgia today...but I’m not discussing my nipples again. Such a barrage of emails...I have not seen in a while. Oh, hell, I'm going to discuss my nipples again anyway... but only to tell you something that I find funny. My brother walked in on me in the shower when I was 16 and saw them. Ever since, he has been calling me Silver Dollar Lady. Now, I just thought that was funny, I don’t need to hear from every dude with a stiffy...but if you do write, toss ME a bone and tell me something good.

OK, my son is going to MacDonald’s and I must have some coffee and some fries. That’s a nice well rounded meal. Of course, there will be ketchup there to add some veggies to the mix. Actually, food is just a vehicle for my ketchup.

Maybe after that, that dude will call me. I’ve been waiting a while now and I hate that. After waiting this long, I don’t think I should be kept waiting anymore...do you?

The fries are here, gotta eat my ketchup now.

See ya.

Meg

See my pretty toes?

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OK, OK, OK...

...you guys have talked me into it. I won't end the blog. But I DO have to do something with it that will separate it into two sections at the very least. Let me think about it and I'll try to figure out something. I must thank you guys for all of the compliments...I won't let you down.

Meg

See ya.

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The first time that a man hits a woman who loves him is the most painful smack of them all. After that, it gets a little less painful each time. Then, she begins to see it as more and more acceptable. After a while, it doesn’t seem wrong so much as it seems normal. People wonder why a woman would stay with a man who abuses her...and that’s pretty much why.

I actually remember thinking, after one of Rick’s more violent outbursts, that he must really, really love me or he wouldn’t get so angry. Twisted logic to be sure, but it’s true.

Women who accept abuse will tell you that the phone is one of the first things to go after a man loses his temper. He doesn’t want you to call for help so he rips it out of the wall. You run into closets out of an immediate sense of panic only to realize that you’ve trapped yourself in a place where there is no escape.

Where a normal person would look down at the person lying on the floor of a closet all balled up in the fetal position and feel sympathy, a violent man will look at it as an opportunity to kick a helpless person.

It took quite a bit of time for me to get the mixed up thinking out of my head. I look back at it all now and see it for exactly what it was, a cowardly bully attacking someone who had absolutely no chance of defending themselves. I can do that because I’ve been away from the manipulation long enough to clear my head. But I will never forget the look in his eyes the last time he smacked me in the face...there was a crazed hatred that I didn’t understand. But, at that moment, I realized that this man could have killed me with the back of his hand. At 110 pounds, I was no match for his 6’ 2”, 225 pound frame. There was something evil in my house and it had to go. I did what I should have done years ago, I took out a restraining order and vowed to myself that I would enforce it.

I know that I have written much more about his cheating than I did anything else, but it was the violence that hurt the most. I've dealt with it using hunor and avoidance but if there is one thing that I want to say in this entire blog, it is that there is never, ever, under any circumstances, a rationalization for violence.

That particular pain is something that I haven't discussed too much, it was just so very hurtful to me. I couldn’t understand why the man who told me that he loved me would do that to me. I justified it for a very long time with the twisted logic that only another person going through it would understand. I’m just glad that I had that moment of clarity to enable me to see exactly what was happening. Many women never do. In this country alone, 3 women are killed every single day by the men who purport to love them.

I don’t know what’s in the minds of these men but I do know what’s in the minds of the women who stay for one day too long. They believe the apologies, they believe that the men don’t mean to do it and maybe they don’t. But like a rabid dog, they can’t stop themselves. It’s up to the women to get themselves to a safe place before a push throws their heads into a coffee table and cracks their skull. When Rick threw the table at me as I was running out of the room, I fell into the wall. That could have just as easily have been something a little sharper and a little more dangerous than a flat wall. He had taken two phones from me that day as I tried to call for help and if the first phone hadn’t gotten through to 911 before he ripped it out of the wall, I don’t have a clue what would have happened. Thank God I never had to find out.

I had that little epiphany and I filed for divorce. I honestly don’t know where it came from or why it happened but it did. When I say that I thank God, I mean it with every fiber of my being.

He’s gone and I’m free of him. I have my entire life to look forward to and I pray that it’s a long one. I want to bounce my grandchildren on my lap. I want to travel more. I want to experience a normal relationship, whatever that is. I want to feel safe and I want to die an old woman with my children around me. I want to be happy and I want to be loved. Not with the insane love of a violent man, but with the gentle love of a man who wouldn’t ever lay a hand on me...no matter what the circumstances.

I have dreams and hopes and things that I still want to accomplish. I don’t want to be afraid everyday like I was when I was married to Rick. That fear is now only a sad memory and hope for the future has replaced it.

If you know a woman, or a man, who is living with a violent person, please tell them that you want to see them live to be a ripe old age and have the things that every human being deserves, security in their own homes. Tell them to look at their children and ask themselves if they want to live to see their children’s children, if they want to live to see another day.

This is a pretty good planet and we only get one chance to play on it. We owe it to ourselves and to our children to make it the most exciting, the most delightful, the most amazing life that we can.
Life is, most assuredly, exactly what you make of it.

I’m back and I’m single.

And I am going to get a pedicure to celebrate. The albatross is gone and all that’s left is to bug the hell out of him until he pays me what he owes me. I am divorced and I have the papers right here to prove it. OK now...I’m ready.

I figured out how I would end the blog and I will do that sometime very soon. And to the people who asked me not to, I should have mentioned that I’ll be starting another one. I haven’t figured out the particulars, but I won’t end this one until I have the new one up and running. I have a few errands to run and when I get back, I’ll get the new one ready and I’ll finish this one. I have to end this one, it’s The Diary of my Divorce and I am divorced now. I never intended to keep this one up after I got my divorce but I never intended to leave anyone hanging either, I had always planned on starting another one. I began that in June thinking that I would be divorced a long time ago but Rick’s buxom attorney (why would he have any other kind?) kept screwing up the papers and we had to keep sending them back.

Well, I have a few things to take care of today so I have to run but I’ll be back to close up this blog as soon as I take care of a few chores.

Have a great day!

Meg Broderick

You mean I can get laid now? Tee hee.

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This is what I've been waiting for.

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OK...

...I'm leaving for court in 20 minutes. It's 8:30 EST. I don't know how long it will take but the next post you see will be written by a single woman.

Ciao...

Meg

Ay oh, ay oh, it’s off to court I go...

...and when I get home I will be free to get laid. That is just so freaking cool. I don’t know what’s making me happier, the permission to get laid part or the, “I have a man to get laid by” part. But damn, I am just so pleased today. A few weeks ago I thought that there would be no way that I could stand in front of that judge without breaking down in tears and now I’m just hoping that I don’t crack up at some inappropriate moment. The judge could say to me, “Mrs. Kelso, why are you seeking a divorce from this court?”

I would love to respond about the skid marks...that would just be so damned funny to me.

“Mrs. Kelso, the court would like to know what it is that you find so amusing.”

The court hasn’t met Rick.

“The court finds it rather offensive that you are not taking these proceedings seriously.”

I’ve been far too serious for far too long. “Your honor...have you read my blog?”

I would have been serious a while back, but now I’m just giddy. I’ve always had a problem keeping a straight face anytime that I knew that a straight face was appropriate. In church, our parents sat behind the 6 of us so that they could smack us in the heads if we did something stupid. The two of them had long enough arms to reach all 6 heads.

On the way to church my Dad would say, “And you, little missy, you had better not misbehave today.”

Oh my God, why did he say that...now I will surely get smacked in the head in front of all of my friends...AGAIN. After a while, I had to stare straight ahead because people would look at me and make a face. I learned to bite my tongue, lip or cheek to keep from laughing. Today I may just start hemorrhaging all over the court room.

“Mrs. Kelso, do you need an ambulance?”

“NO DUDE...I need a divorce! I haven't been laid properly in over a quarter of a century and I have an opportunity to have it happen now....so, slam that damn gavel and turn me back into Miss Broderick so that I can go about doing so!”

I find it odd that the “winner” of the divorce is the one who has to go to court. I seem to be earning myself a pew of my own at this courthouse. (They look like pews, I don’t know what the hell you call them.) I guess it is appropriate that I walk in a married woman and walk out single.

The grounds that I sought the divorce under were adultery, physical and emotional cruelty and abandonment. I would have like to have added that Rick couldn’t perform his marital duties but that wasn’t on the list. I suppose technically he did, but I would have liked to have been able to at least recite the Pledge of Allegiance before it was over. You know, he blamed THAT on me as well. I haven’t mentioned this before because it was sort of embarrassing but hell, what do I care now...he told me that it wasn’t his fault he couldn’t last any length of time, it was all because of me. I was “far too tight and no man would want a woman with such a fucked up pussy that he couldn’t last longer than 2 minutes.” I think that was an effort to get me to feel too embarrassed to sleep with anyone else.

It didn’t work. I have been with men who could last longer than a Star-fish commercial, I just didn’t have the heart to tell him that until now. I’m not that stupid.

Well, I just received October firsts’ alimony. He sent me a check. Up until then, he had been sending money orders. I don’t know why, but I didn’t mind because those don’t bounce. Where the hell do you cash a check from Montana? You have to be very careful cashing a check written by a man who makes $8.50 and hour.

OK, this blog will be ending very soon and I have to ask you guys a favor. Can you send me suggestions about how I should do it? I can’t decide. Over the past 10 months, I’ve considered many different things according to my mood. At times I thought that I would end it with some emotional soliloquy about my marriage and I’ve thought that I should end it in some barrage of insults towards Rick. It never occurred to me that I would be so happy on this day. I’m not used to it so I am at a loss.

OK, I have to go take a shower and shave my legs and wash my belly button. I have to do what Rick has been doing ever since we got married, I have to be ready to fuck a stranger at all times now. You never know. Somebody just might want to lick my belly. :):):)

See ya!

Meg

So...

...who else thinks I can’t be happy and be a bitch at the same time? Pishaw I say. I was thinking about a lot of things today and one of them was a very nice man that makes me smile. The other one was a prick that makes me want to slap strangers. And his name is...RICK KELSO.

Tomorrow morning, I will be a divorced woman. That was never in my plans but right now I’m very glad that I can say that because I want someone else in a way that a married woman should never want another man. It’s a shame that Rick didn’t have the decency to understand what I just said. The shame is all his because he is the loser. I can honestly say that although I’m not perfect, I have behaved in a manner worthy of a lady and I’m very proud of that.

Now, a few words about the man that I can, for the last time, call my husband. He is a pig. In every sense of that word. He has screwed far more women than I can count since our marriage. He has been violent in affect and in reality. He has broken things of mine to be mean, things that meant a lot to me. He has punched holes in the walls of every room in this house. He has lied to me countless times and he left me, after almost 25 years, when I needed him the most. He has done rotten things to me that a real man would never have done.

After all of that, he had the nerve to call me and tell me that he still loved me just to get me to let him slide on the alimony. If I would have let him, he would have led me to believe that there was hope for our marriage that never existed. He was willing to manipulate my feelings as though they were so much trash under his feet.

For all of those reasons, I am going to do something that I hadn’t planned on doing. I am going to post emails that he sent me so that whomever he is seeing AND his family can know what he has been saying to me. Perhaps then, they will see what a total sleaze he is. Maybe they won’t, but they most assuredly should see that I am not the one who lied about what has happened during our marriage. So, here they are:

Margaret,i would like to start emailing you for startersbecause as i told you i still love you and when we gotmarried twice i expected it to be for ever so ifthere's a chance we will start with emails and seewhere it goes from there, so did that answer yourquestion. And what i want is for both of us to behappy again.Rick

He wants to email me! Just what every wife wants from her husband, an email.

I'm glad the woman i married is back and i've changedthrough everything that has happened. And there hasn'tbeen a day go by that i haven't thought of you.Love, Rick

He’s changed, he has less hair.

I wished i could send you more but when i say thewages aren't very good here i mean i only make 8.50hrthats why i need a second job buy the time i payinsurance and you i have no money. I'm sorry, LoveRick

$8.50 an hour? What a catch for any trailer dwelling bimbo.

I miss being around but i guess things happen for areason. By any chance do you still have my other pairof glasses? Well guess i got to do some work talk tolater.

Yeah, he better work, he’s has to earn that $8.50.

I would love to put a smile on your face. And i did see the question but when i went to look up your phone # i couldn't find it, I tried yahoo people search and "http://anywho.com" I will call information.So what have you been doing today? it's chilly and cloudy here and i'm trying to work on Tv's now because two tech's have left now there's only me another guy that works on audio and i haven't worked on tv's since rent-a-center. I don't know if this place is going to stay open so it's a good thing i got the second job. I don't want you to think i'm not trying, and don't worry about the glasses i don't care, i was just talking, i will pick my subjects a little better. Love Ya, Rick

Oh no, I would never think that Rick wasn’t trying.

Hi,You need to put the cruise control on to avoid thatspeeding thing. Hope everything turns out okay. Itried calling last night about 10 pm your time youmust of been asleep,i kept forgeting about the 2 hourdifference. take care of yourself,talk to laterRick

No, I wasn’t sleeping, I was out shooting pool with another guy that night. I had to make a choice and I chose someone else.

I did call sat mornbut no answer and the rest of the weekend i wasdealing with my parents and being sick, sorry youthink that's breaking the truce, I didn't realize thatthis was a truce. So let's just move on with ourlives, and be friends if that's possible if not justlet me know.Love Ya, Rick

No, I don’t want to be your friend, just send me the alimony and leave me alone.

How can you say this was my idea, i wasn't the onethat filed, and i told you why i signed the papersbecause i thought that's what you wanted since youwere the one that filed. I have no idea why a songplays and not download. I don't mean to iritate you.

I can say this was your idea because you fucked another woman. You may not mean to irritate me, but, like fingernails on a blackboard, you sure the hell do.

You know i always like your hair short because itshowed off your beautiful face

Or maybe because you know other men love long hair?


it's funny how one event takes a lifeof it's own and takes us where i never thought wecould go.

No, one never thinks that adultery, violence and lies will end in a divorce, does one? Well, that’s it for now. I am so tired that I have to go to sleep now. But, quickly, before I do, I just wanted to say that Rick can take his twisted penis and stick it anywhere he wants to now. Then, he can explain these emails to anyone that he’d like to.

OK...

...now I’m annoyed. My house has been broken into AGAIN! They still didn’t take anything, the best that I can figure is that the dog scared them off. 10 years I’ve been here and nothing, this year, two break ins. When I walked in the house yesterday and found the door open and busted, I thought that my son had done it. He had a hissy fit the other day and I just assumed it was him. But today he said that it wasn’t him and that I had better call the police. I wasn’t going to at first, but a friend said that I should in case there had been a few of them. Well, there have been. The officer told me that there have been a few break ins in this area so I’m glad that I did call.

Nothing seems to be missing. I have a bunch of drugs here (medicinal, not cocaine or something like that) and they didn’t touch them. My jewelry box is still there and so are is of the electronic stuff. There’s a camcorder on the kitchen table and if they came in any distance, they would have taken it. Thank God for very large dogs.

Last spring when they broke in (whomever THEY are), the SWAT team came in and swept through the house. They weren’t really SWAT-ting that night, they were just available so they came with all of their big guns. Then, they stopped by every so often over the summer to be sure that I was OK. I suppose they’ll start coming by again. That’s cool, I love to be known as the house with all the police coming in and out. Not that it really helped this time, but you never know what it may have prevented.

This is getting silly. If the crook is reading this, could you go to another house for a while? I have to pay for that door and I don’t have any money. If you really, really want something, come in through a window, those are cheaper to fix.

Oh great, now the dog is farting again. I can’t complain, not after he chased off crooks.

I promised my friend that I would come and give her a manicure this afternoon. She is handicapped and can’t do such things herself. So, since she is so good to me when I need a pal, I don’t mind one bit. I just have to be back before my date starts. Gotta get that first one out of the way!

See ya!

Meg

Now THIS is funny.

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I’m spottin’ dimes and eatin’ onions...

...and I’m enjoying every minute of it. My cheeks are sore from smiling and I don’t remember the last time that happened. I’m quite sure that it was in the last millennium and I think it was in the 80’s. One way or another, it’s been a really long damn time. I’m even experiencing other feelings that I can’t mention here and I didn’t know were possible for a woman my age.

Isn’t that nice? The timing couldn’t be better, tomorrow is my divorce. I didn’t expect this but I’m glad that it’s happened.

I almost went into self defense mode for a second this morning, but I shook myself out of it because if he’s willing to take a chance, then I am too. I learned how to control my feelings a very long time ago and I very rarely let them go wild, I did it with Rick and it turned out to be a big giant stupid mistake but that’s OK, I’ve learned a lot since then. I’m very good at feeling people out and I’ve felt this one out as much as I can from this far away, and I can tell, although he is a MAN...he is a good one.

He could be doing anything with his time but he spends a lot of it speaking to me and he’s the exact opposite of Rick, he’s talkative, bright and funny. Talkative is a great change, I don’t have to carry every single conversation. Bright is nice, I don’t have to explain every little thing. And funny isn’t new, but funny on purpose is.

He’ll be flying down here soon and to make sure that I don’t break my own rule of never having sex on the first date, we’re going to have our first date tonight. It’ll be on the phone, but hell, that’s just fine with me. I haven’t decided what to wear, but I’m probably gonna go with casual wear. I won’t be putting my hair up, but I will shampoo it. I’ll probably just wear a little bit of make up, no need to overdo.

If this had happened last year or even earlier this year, I wouldn’t trust it at all. I’d be too worried that I was doing a rebound thing. But after a year and half, I don’t think that I’m going to worry about that. Like I said, I have a pretty good grip on my feelings and I feel very good about this. The last time that I was single, I wrote a list of requirements that I stuck to so that I didn’t let anything stupid happen. I don’t feel the need to go by them anymore, I trust myself a bit more. But, it doesn’t matter all that much, he meets almost all of them. Besides, I’ve never done anything like this before so I’m more than willing to give it a go. Doing things the “right” way haven’t worked out all that well, I’ve followed most of the usual rules and that’s only gotten me a pack of lies, a cheating husband and skid marks. So, damn the torpedoes and full speed ahead.

Have you ever just sat there and spent your time thinking about someone? I find myself actually planning to do that. I go into my room and lie down on the bed and just think about this guy and that’s so much fun...I don’t even mind the sore cheeks.

One of my blog buddies wrote to me and was worried that I wouldn’t “bitch” anymore now that I was so happy. Talk about a silly thing to worry about. I don’t bitch because I’m unhappy, I bitch because I have tits. I shall certainly continue to bitch, I will always be able to find something to bitch about. I can’t think of anything right now, but I will make a concerted effort to find something to bitch about...just for him.

Right now, I’m going to go and think about just that...maybe I should turn the TV on, that always irritates the hell out of me. I’ll be back as soon as I come across something to bitch about. So, that means that I’ll be back soon.

See ya,

Meg