Rick Kelso Kalispell Montana

My crazy ex...

...won't take "Here's a divorce and within it you'll find a permanent restraining order." for a goodbye. He is STILL trying to keep in touch with me and mine...and this time I even warned his stupid ass...again. I actually took time out of my busy Florida day and told him that all I wanted was for him to stay away from me and anyone whom I met in a delivery room.

This is the first post since my warning has been ignored. I'll try to be decent.

I really don't think I'm asking that much. I'm simply asking to be left alone and like a jack-ass, I thought a divorce would do that. My lawyer was smart enough to make permanent the restraining order which was in place when depositions were taken in the divorce. I wouldn't have thought about that myself. It's just that sort of thing that made me an easy woman to be abused in the first place. But, the control that the fool lost when we were finally divorced is too much for him to let go. Rick Kelso simply cannot do it. He simply refuses to leave me alone.

How hard can that be? As Nancy Reagan said, "Just say no!" Ignore the urge to penetrate into my life because it HURTS me. I know that wasn't a good enough reason for you to treat me with the respect that a human being deserves when I was your punching bag, but at your age, I still have hope that you'll develop a conscience and just avoid behavior that HURTS another human being.

I know, I'm an idiot. You're just so damned easy to believe. You don't even seem bright enough to be such a great liar. But Casey Anthony has nothing on you, dude.

I wasn't kidding, I will follow through with MY promises so do yourself a favor and act as if you know where in the hell a high road might be.

BTW...I prefer this..."8 Days A Week!":

PS I don't care how many pills she takes in a day...leave me the fuck alone.

Hi...

...it's me. I'm here to report some recent goings on.

I've been lucky enough to have had a few dates with a pretty nice man. There's only one minor problem. His jewelry reminds me of my grandfather's jewelry. You know, those diamond encrusted pinkie rings that stand for something but you never know what. And then, when I look at his hands I think of my grandfather's hands and things go a little goofy in my psyche. I don't care if he is relatively close to my age, he should still at least OWN a strand of pukka shells.

I received an interesting "compliment" from him today. At least I think so.

The guy I'm seeing said, in reference to an ex, "She looks like a grandma."

Well, I AM a grandma. And I said so.

"But, you don't LOOK like a grandma!" he said quickly in an effort to recover from his verbal faus pax. Yeah right.

Actually, whether or not I LOOK like a grandmother isn't the issue. The issue is that when this dude DOES eventually tell tales about me, they'll be about something, just something else.

:)

Hola, 'tis me.

I've been rare lately after having one of those strokes that leaves a person less than 100 % but more than totally screwed. I've been working on retrieving some of my finer motor movements and, I must say, I’m pretty much at the point where I can do anything…anything I want to do, that is. I probably can’t thread a needle but I don’t particularly care for sewing so that works out well for me. I know where the Yellow Pages are and should I require a seamstress, I know how to find one.

I guess I can easily say that although my health has, at times, been a challenging foe with which to contend, I’ve actually come out ahead, considering the inability to sew…but my remaining ability to type, cook, have sex and swim. I’ve been doing a lot of swimming lately as well. I am in Florida after all and I even have a tan. It doesn’t take much to be able to tan so I’ve been doing a bit of that. It’s nice but I must say, I don’t like the idea of tanning one small piece at a time. I do that because I’m Irish and I freckle quite a bit. If my freckles ever meet to form one large freckle, I will have one helluva a tan, to be sure.

I have so many things to tell you that I don’t really know where to start. I have earphones on right now, not so much to hear the music as to keep my father from whining at me. I adore him and he makes me laugh when he bitches. I just need to spit this out so that I can fall asleep without worrying that I’ve left you all sitting there for another day without letting you know why I’m not there. I DO worry about that, but with any luck at all, I won’t be doing as much worrying in the next few days as I have in the past few months.

I wish I had thought to laugh at my dad’s rantings when I was a kid. Instead, I just sat there, shaking in my Keds, wondering when he would pull off his belt and smack the hell out of me with it. That, of course, was back in the day when parents could do that without getting arrested. I would have called the cops if I thought it would have helped, but they would have just smacked me too so I just sat there, frightened and wanting to go away. Now I see that when my father bitches, if I laugh, he too laughs as soon as he sees that there actually is humor in his gripe du jour.

Anyway, I’ve been doing far too much working out lately. I’m actually growing muscles that I never wanted. But, I must say, now that I have them, I kinda like them. My legs are finally getting large enough to allow me to have more than a skinny-Minnie torso. That’s significant should I ever need to go on Craigslist for a date again. Apparently, it’s pretty important to be HWP and my old skinny legs required me to be rather tiny upstairs so that I didn’t resemble a water tower when I wore a swim suit. Now that I actually have thighs and calves, I can let my waist grow to a comfortable 28 or 29 inches without worrying that I should have a ladder on my left leg.

So, I’m tanned and pumped. I’ve even been back at Tae Kwon Do for a while so I could probably take down a middle aged man with love handles…especially if he has arthritis and large skin tags on his neck, chest and upper arms. This really isn’t bad for a chick my age. I actually go for a two mile walk every morning and when I do, I pass a couple of really large ponds as well as a few ditches alongside the walkway I’m traipsing along. The ponds have alligators in them and the ditches are occupied by rather large turtles. I have picture but most of them are of animals under the water so you’d only know what the animals are if you were there when I took the pictures. One of these days I’ll get you a 6 foot alligator sitting on the side of the pond. I only see them when I don’t have my camera with me but sooner or later I’ve get it together, of that you can be sure.

The coolest thing about my daily walks is the fact that I walk with my father and he’s on his eighth decade. He’s actually rather close to his ninth and he’s usually the one who spots the alligators so he’s nice to have around. He does call the gators crocodiles but I know what he means so it all works out just fine.

Anyway, the only really bad part of being here and being post-stroke as I am is the fact that I have no medicinal marijuana. Florida is also without and I don’t know anyone who smokes, sells or stockpiles the stuff so here I am, able to pass any test they offer and I HATE THAT!!! If you happen to me close to Tampa and have a bit of greenery to spare, let me know, I’m here, weedless and very grateful to those who might have spare weed to offer.

OMG!!! My father is sitting close to me and my earphones have kept me from noticing that he’s watching Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. I want to watch that silly move and even if my father is there watching it first it will still be fun. Since he’s been the one I’ve been staying with, I’ve gotten used to his presence. I like him and he’s fun to be around. Off course, I do want to watch that movie with him. Of course, I do have Black Water playing in my earphones and some nice Scotch sitting in my glass…both of those things make it tough to walk away right now!!!
Aw hell,. I have to do it now. See ya soon, tomorrow FO SHO!!!