Wednesday, October 30, 2013
TUF: Episode 8
Thursday, October 24, 2013
It Wont Stop
Thursday, October 17, 2013
TUF: Episode 7
Saturday, October 12, 2013
TUF: Episode 6
The group heads off to green Valley Ranch resort and spa for a little break which means assless Hooters girls and a pool party with food. Raquel is there but not eating. Jessamyn didn't even go. She was on some "any other fight any other time". Mother bitch, here comes Gutierrez again. You know he is happy about food and no ass. Gutierrez is acting a whole drunk fool as usual. He is totally fucking with Raquel and she does not appreciate that shit. Period. So early the next morning they fuck with him and dump him out of his bed. Good show ladies.
Wednesday, October 09, 2013
TUF: Episode 5
I keep forgetting that these kids are tremendously bored. There is nothing to do in the house but eat and pick on each other. Raquel tells the story of her coming out to her family to the girls in the house. I don't know why but I felt like there was some editing there. I will tell you why later. So, they are all dicking around outside playing truth or dare and somehow Gutierrez gets in on the mix. Possibly because Sarah Moras deemed him best looking in the house. Uggh okay kids whatever. So this gives him license to come out and run his trap. First thing he does is choose truth and when they ask who he thinks is the weakest link in the house he picks Fisette. Not that I don't agree, because out of everyone in the house Fisette is the only one who didn't get there by winning his fight. He was actually submitted by Holdsworth, but when Corwin got sent home, he got the opportunity to come back. Fair enough. Oh and Roxanne is probably the funniest person in the house. Bollinger picked dare, and they send him upstairs to use a cheesy pickup line on her. I don't even know what he said but she seemed wise to his game when he walked in. She is just minding her business and writing her Japanese blog (I know, I think she is magical too) Her response? "You couldn't handle all of this" which I think is hilarious.
Training sessions start and we get to see Fisette in action with Caraway. He has what he thinks is a foolproof strategy to win against Grant. Noticing that he doesn't really stand still and trade punches (because that shit is stupid and guaranteed to get you a nap on the mat) he intends to get in close. Okay chief, if that's what works for you. The other team has the esteemed pleasure of meeting Ronda's mom former judo champion Anna Maria DeMars. One very intense, very quick lady with a whole lot to say. Ronda put it best when she said that she thought people would understand her better once they met her mother. I get it. BTW I don't subscribe to that whole Ronda is a bitch deal. Sure, she might be but first and foremost she is there to win. She is serious and all that jokey shit is lost on her. Ms. DeMars for her part takes the time to watch each fighters technique before offering any criticism and then proceeds to execute one of the fastest armbars I have ever seen in a tank top and jeans. Wow. Ronda explains a little about having to fight people who were clearly better or fight injured because her mother wanted her to understand how important her training and preparedness was. It seems to still be a point of contention for her, but I get it.
Ms. DeMars comes back to the house and gets the opportunity to chat with Grant about his two boys. She asks if they were there would an opponent have any way to stop him. Of course he says no, and that right there sets the tone as far as I am concerned about what is bout to happen next. Long story short they both make weight, despite the fact that Grant has a ton to drop and everyone in the house has been eating like pigs at a trough. Its just flat out ridiculous what they are eating. Anyway, somewhere in the mix Miesha the voice of reason and good decide that what would really go along way to make things better between the teams is to sneak into the Rousey camp and leave Edmond Tarverdyan a figurine of the The Count from Sesame Street because they think he looks like him. They also add an eyebrow waxing coupon for his unibrow. Good thing Ronda and her mother see it first, cause she is convinced that "joke" wont me met with lightheartedness and hides it from him.
On to the fight. All that "get in close" crap did not help Fisette at all and even though it went to round two, Fisette couldn't hold Grant off or even come up for air IMO and he was defeated by rear naked choke in Round 2. Ronda announced the next fight, Duke vs. Pennington and I am guessing its going to be a brawl. Both these women have a rack of go hard and very little quit in them. Should be really damn interesting.
Friday, September 27, 2013
TUF: Episode 4
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
TUF Episode 3
Baszler/Pena is over and even though Rousey is still pissed, Tate returns to the house with a milkshake for Pena and cake for Baszler. I still cant tell if Miesha is this caring coach or she is trolling us. In the words of El Debarge, time will reveal. Pena is floating around the house on cloud nine and as such she is sporting a British accent. The guys seem irritated by the faux accent she is rocking. Particularly Gutierrez. I don't know if I would dig it but dude is an ass.
Beal tells the story about his cancer battle and he too has a brother he lost to gun violence. He wants this fight and he is cool and confident but so is Holdsworth. I am gonna go on record and say this is a boring episode. There is a lot of internal BS going on in the house and very little focus on the training.
I guess cabin fever has gotten the better of both teams (or its a calculated reality TV set up) and they all go to Red Rock and have a party. Rousey takes this opportunity to stir the pot and comes to stand a little to close to Tate's boyfriend. Now they are beefing, something about Rousey not being able to hit pads or even throw punches. Rousey sidebars to a discussion about her respect for Tate as a fighter but how she has zero fucks to give for either she or Caraway personally. This particular incident is fueled by the fact that Tate's man Caraway tweeted something about breaking Rousey's teeth out of her mouth on Twitter the night before their title fight. Edmond Tarverdyan is NOT about that life and he tells him that too. It didn't escalate, mainly because Caraway is apologetic about the tweet but make no mistake Tarverdyan wants to kill him. Tate sits back and says that since it happened so long ago and Caraway apologized, she should drop it. I don't agree with the tweet, but I do feel like Rousey has to get out of her feelings about that. Its just giving Tate what she needs to keep winning.
I am starting to feel like Beal is letting his mouth is write a check his ass can't cash. Seriously, this Chris vs Chris fight has me vexed. Beal is doing his rendition of "started from the bottom" and Holdsworth is on some "if you can dream it you can achieve it." Hell I don't know which one of you is gonna take it.
Thursday, September 12, 2013
TUF Rousey / Tate: Episode 2
Tate is siced, Rousey is blown and Dana is pleased as punch (of course) and Baszler is crushed. I don't think this one fight is enough to tarnish her rep, I mean anyone can have a bad match. Happens to the best of them. Rousey is sick with grief and takes Tate's celebration as a pointed jab at Shayna's loss. She is NOT happy, and she lets Tate know. Tate picks the second fight and its Holdsworth/Beal but honestly only cause Beal's hand is hurt. It's strategic but its a sucka ass move and Ronda is even more irritated. Previews do NOT look pleasant. Good shit people!
Sunday, September 08, 2013
Just An Observation
Thursday, September 05, 2013
The Ultimate Fighter Rousey vs. Tate
Saturday, August 10, 2013
Tightrope
Tuesday, August 06, 2013
Every Single Night
I don't think I have ever mentioned my inordinate love for Robert Downey Jr. Random right? Well I am watching the Avengers again. Such a complicated attraction I know. He isn't everyone's cup of tea but something about that man does it for me. Ever since the first Ironman I have been blissfully crushing on him. How is it possible for an individual to get better looking as they age? I could say the same of El Debarge (sans drug addiction) who seems preserved. RDJ spent enough of his time drugged out of his mind and playing man-child for several decades so maybe that's the key (I will stick to broad spectrum sunblock and red wine thanks). Suddenly he's back at damn near 50 and he is gorgeous?
Now I am sure he is short which would cross him off all my potential fantasy man lists but occasionally a short man might sneak through. T.I. is super short, he could get the business. Mark Wahlberg has gotta be short and he too could get it twice on Sunday. RDJ is it for me though. Maybe it's the Tony Stark swagger and confidence? Who knows really. I try not to assess my attractions at this rate. There is very little rhyme or reason to them these days. I am damn near 40 and I appreciate a good looking man when I see one and honestly, what's wrong with that?
Housekeeping: I'm engaged (wedding is in 2014 people). Don't get sensitive if you aren't invited. We are broke and those procciuto wrapped asparagus aren't gonna pay for themselves. Next, I am a size 8 again. That's what the jeans say so I am gonna go with it. My hair is longer than it has been in two decades and its driving me nuts. Oh and I love Orange is the New Black on Netfilx. Watch it, seriously. I have more to say but I will just keep all that to myself right now. Expect all kinds of crazy updates soon.
Friday, December 14, 2012
I'm Different
Let me just run the tape back for you. 10 years ago I got heavily interested in mixed martial arts without the help of a boyfriend, my son or anyone else. Just me and Pride and UFC. I watched fights, and shows on fights, and then I recognized fighters in obscure paces, and sold property to amateur fighters wanting to start gyms. Then I came here and started writing about them. Then I got my kid watching, and my dad watching and suddenly the guys I dated watched it too. Then I would say to myself "I sure wish I could do that." Me! You know, crazy violent and particularly nutty, tends to take on too much, just got over a serious ankle issue that required 8 weeks of PT. That's me. Not wishing to be able to run again. Wishing to have an actual shot at being a female MMA fighter. Cut to about three months ago, when I my daily LivingSocial deal flashes across my phone. I was pumping gas, or eating something unhealthy or what the fuck ever it is that I do on a weekend that I don't have a paper due, and low and behold my prayers were answered. It was an offer, for a months worth of classes at the local MMA gym for $25! I didn't breathe, I didn't think I just pressed BUY and then I proceeded to chide myself for even thinking that this body with the extra 40lbs strapped to it and the wacky ankle would be able to do anything as kick ass as Brazilian jujitsu...at 36.
I gotta say at that point I just tried to forget that I bought the damn thing. Maybe I would get up enough nerve to go before it expired, or maybe I wouldn't. Maybe I would go home and eat some more bread and gain 10 more lbs and drink another bottle of wine. You know, 40 year old shit, not 20 year old fuckshit like rolling around on the ground grappling with some other sweaty ass people half your age. Nawww I would just ride this one out till the expiration was gone. That was fine too, until one day I was at home, probably writing another godforsaken paper about Information Security or Information Technology, or Project Management in IT or IT ethics or some other fuckass topic that rules my entire existence when No Reservations came on the TV. Now, if you know me you know that the only think I like more than watching showes about food is eating said food. So I settled into page three of five and hear hustled while I typed. Then it happened, Tony Bourdain started discussing Rio, and how it was so beautiful and how his wife wasn't there to soak up the sun or lay on the beach. Nope, she was there to have a good old fashioned BJJ match. So I watched this tiny Italian woman who was sickly conditioned, and sparing like a champ and I knew right then and there that if I didn't give this a try now, I never would and I would ALWAYS be sorry I didn't. So the very next we hopped our asses in the car and went over there to see whether or not two decidedly fat, close to middle aged old birds would be laughed out of a respectable MMA gym or potentially be killed in the process. I also determined that if I really wanted to do this, that I better not tell anyone. Not my worry wart momma or my neurotic ass boyfriend. Erica and I made a pact, and went in.
It was uncomfortable, I wont lie. Even though those boys were as nice as pie, we were still two old fat ladies asking about classes. Not only that but one of us is a huge UFC Stan who is trying desperately not to look like a 13 year old girl at a Bieber concert. Of course I thought, we will find out some shit, think about coming to class and leave. I was wrong, they made me sign a waiver and then told us that we should come for the BJJ Fundamentals class on Sunday. Why did I feel like everyone was laughing at me? So we left, her freaked out, me embarrassed and we said we would come back Sunday. Sunday started strange. We ate, showered and then I proceeded to put on every article of workout clothing I owned. I had NO idea what this situation entailed. The schedule didn't say what I was supposed to wear. How much was I gonna be on the floor? Does that mean shorts? I only own one set of sweatpants that I just bought the week prior. What the hell have I gotten myself into? I came out of my bedroom in the following. Shorts, sweatpants, underwear, sports bra, tank top, tank top, *that's right two tank tops* t-shirt and hooded sweatshirt. It was 500 degrees in that getup and I looked insane, so I figured I better scale it back.
After removing about 4 layers we left for class. 4 bottles of water? Check. We should be fine. We walk in and meet Topaz. He doesn't look nearly as young as the dudes we saw Saturday so we relaxed a little. We introduce ourselves and immediately we have to start jogging. This for me is comedy, because in 3 months the best I have been able to accomplish is attending PT and walking slightly faster than a senior citizen. Okay, so I guess I am jogging. Leg feels strong, I feel good so far. Now I am doing something called Shrimping. Basically I am using one leg to propel myself up the mat. Sure I am slow but I think I am doing it right. There are more warm ups, more jogging. I am beginning to question my sanity when he tells us to sit. Now we are on to ab work and by abs, I mean the place where I used to have muscle. Something tells me that I am not going to feel good later but then, I catch my breath and I start doing moves and Topaz teaches us posture, and side guard and I am understanding now. Everything I have been watching for better than 10 years is starting to connect in my brain and even though every muscle I own has determined that I am a horrible bitch for subjecting it to this class, I am happy and so is Erica. We watch closely every move, and when Topaz instructs we follow intently. Furthermore, we didn't die!
So, class one became class two (where even the apple, redbull, GU and coconut water I had didn't keep me from almost passing out during the boxing portion) and that was mad painful and I still cant raise my arms properly, I still went to class last night and even though I thought I was going to choke in the 15 push up circle, I managed not to embarrass my fat ass in front of a class of 20 somethings and you know what? I am hooked. The funny part is how patient these young dudes are with us. One was so eager to teach us submissions (when I was in the middle of my hypoglycemic attack) another wanted us to stay for a second class. Last night, a little bitty one was telling us how to score points in a tournament. Who tournament? Is he for real right now? Its funny but I honestly believe if I could go back tonight I would. If I were 10 years younger and could just spend all my time training I would dedicate myself to it fully and though I cant walk right now which is not shocking I feel like for the first time I am doing something I always wanted to do. No one has laughed at me, no one has told me that I cant do it, no body has tossed my lifeless body into the alley and though my everything hurts, my ankle does not and its fantastic. So after class 1 I told my kid, cause well he can hold water unlike other folks and he wont admonish me for the ankle thing. Not only that but he was very happy for me. He knows how much I love this stuff. So I will keep you posted. Maybe photos when I lose some weight at this rate it wont be long.
Oh and since I come here once in a blue moon, someone eloquently pointed out in the comments of my last post that as I was complaining about the writing in 50 Shades that I started the first four paragraphs with "so". First, this is a blog, its not a published book so don't think you are shading me by correcting my blog type grammar. I don't write this bitch for grades or book deals but thanks for your fuckass comment anon.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
50 Shades of WTF?!?
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Addicted
I’ve been keeping a secret. A huge secret that I hoped no one outside of a few close family members and friends would ever have to know. This secret has taken me three years to come to grips with, but sadly I fear that if I don’t unburden myself that the situation may never get better. The secret, as painful as it is to share could change the lives of so many people around me for the better, and I just refuse to sit in silence as everyone else around me suffers.
Three years ago, I was introduced by a friend (or who I thought was a friend) to a very hush-hush society of individuals. Without getting to far into it, I got hooked on something that I am not proud of. Something that haunts me every single day and makes me feel powerless to stop its hold on me. I know that by telling others I will have more and more trouble obtaining and hiding my addictions but I feel like nothing good can come of my current path. That is why I have taken it upon myself to change and bring this shameful secret out in the open.
I am addicted to Korean Fried Chicken and though you may have never heard of it, its powerful stuff. Korean Fried Chicken is difficult to obtain, and I have driven as far as New York in order to get it. I’ve never told certain people because I fear they will clog my beloved retailers and I will never have the opportunity to get it but now I see that by not speaking up, I could be hurting myself even worse.
As of November 2011 there are zero Korean Fried Chicken spots in the whole of Maryland. This is shameful and appalling, and frankly I am getting really tired of driving out to west hell or Virginia just to get it. It’s a tedious process and gas aint cheap. I was lucky enough to find one in Annendale but let me tell you, that’s a long ass ride and not at all fun. Then I found out they opened one in Fairfax and I vowed to spend my gas and time going there, but it struck me that there is not one single Korean Fried Chicken place in my home state, and while I don’t mind visiting NYC or VA its certainly not convenient. Probably better for my waistline but whatever! I need that Chicken!!!
There are at least 4 franchise options that could be staking their claim in MD but they aren’t. No Bon Chon, no Kyedong, no KyoChon and no UFC (unidentified flying chickens) in my state. Hell, only Bon Chon is outside of NYC and if you knew what I had been through to get that, you would lobby the first Korean you saw to open a stand in my state. Anyway, the reason I am even doing this is because possibly by drumming up enough interest someone will see what a great idea putting on in MD is and fulfill my dreams. I mean, I already know there is an untapped market. Most people love chicken, they love it more when its fried and well I don’t have to tell you how much black folks like chicken. We have dollars people, and frankly I am not giving them to the Colonial or Annie from Popeye’s. A Korean franchisee could be raking in the cash in a central spot like Largo or Greenbelt. Seriously, making a killing. And the thing about KFC is that if you build it they will come. They will believe I promise, because there is nothing else like it and we will keep you laced in the finest for the price of a few plates of chicken, pitchers of beer and cups of pickled dakon.
My issue is this, I would start one myself but (and not to sound racist) but do they even give those franchises to non Asians?? They are all based in South Korea, and I tell you right now I would be hella lost on that business deal. I just know that it would turn a massive profit.
So this is my plea. Please for the love of all that is good and holy someone place a Bon Chon or any of the others in my neck of the woods. I will patronize you like a damn zombie and never leave your side and I will bring all my family, friends and associates to worship at your temple of tasty chicken at the risk of not getting any for myself by flooding your store with believers. Please don’t make me keep driving away from my home I already gave up on Sonic, don’t let me lose faith in you! Sincerely, the KFC devoted from the state of Maryland.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Tears Dry on Their Own

Sigh, in plain terms I was a fan. A real fan, who felt the notes she sang, and clung to Back to Black with the shattered pieces of my heart after the worst break up of my life. She got me through it and she built me back with Frank, and she made my heart soar with the B-sides when she filled my space with her rendition of Cupid. I still sing her Mark Ronson single Valerie as often as I can and the day I was blessed to go see her in concert in Philly at The Electric Factory, I new I was witnessing something special. So, yeah this hurts a little.
I wont even get into the path of ruin she was on. Everyone knew it and for months or years to come people will belabor and bludgeon her hard core drug use and alcoholisim. Unless youve ever loved someone struggling with additction then you probably will not understand. Frankly, I dont know what exactly was plagueing her but I hope that her soul is at rest.
Today is officially delcared Amy Winehouse day here and I will sit and mourn with my Amy station on Pandora and put Back to Black on repeat in the car on the way home tonight. How odd that I can listen to her music and when Teena Marie passed all I could think was "too soon, cant do it". I still dont think I have fully listened to a Teena song since that day.
Here is the piece that I wrote on her back in 2007.
"It’s the soundtrack of her life and its messy and complicated, but that’s
what makes it beautiful. Its layered, its heavy and its thought provoking
and downright as blunt as it gets. Its as smoky as any blues bar and so
personal it
reads like a diary. Its just Amy."
Rest in peace Amy, may your Grandma Ava be waiting there for you with free tickets to see Nas.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
I'm On One...
This year was no exception and I found myself in the city of Chicago (Chi-town to some of y'all) and eating my way through a 10 day business trip. Basically, you work 13 hour days, don't get breakfast, barely score lunch and use your entire stipend to fill your belly with whatever is available to you at 8pm. The good news about this is that I had a bonafied Chicago restaurant foodie toting me around from place to place, so to say I ate well would be a huge understatement. This year's restaurant bucket list additions include The Girl and the Goat, where EVERY.DAMN.THING was good. From the home made bread and himachi appetizer to the dessert. Just fantastic. Another great addition was Blackbird and let me tell you I have probably never eaten that much in one sitting in my life. Everything was fantastic. Gruyere Ice cream? Banana Pan Pardue? Lamb bacon? Hawaiian black sea bass? Hell yes!
Okay enough about the food in Chicago. It was long and tiring and it put 5 of the 25 lbs I lost since March back on my behind. We will get to the weight loss thing in a second. So, then I came home and had a 5 day turn around before I flew off to Boston for another 6 days. To even insinuate that I was tired by then was a joke. My attitude started to suffer before I could clear security at O'Hare, so I was not looking forward to being cooped the fuck up with Drunky and a host of other needy folks. I spent most of my time waking up too early, moving tables for some crackhead facilitator, trying not to go to jail and eating. Eating being the most enjoyable. So by this time the size 10 pants I bought to go to Chicago are now extremely snug in Boston.
I am guessing I cleared another 4 to 5 lbs in Boston due to some seriously good eats. Most of which occurred in a little cafe/bar called Geoffrey's. Too much BLT, sweet potato fries, key lime pie, prosecco drinks and Disco Brunch. Oh and there was this thing called a donut muffin that probably caused some sort of irreparable damage to my system and very well could have shaved off years. It really was delicious though, just wrong but delicious. So I got home Tuesday, still in a pretty surly mood. Like seriously I don't really want to talk to anyone and I am not all that interested in being here. I was just nasty as fuck to a dude on the phone who probably didn't deserve it but had his facts mixed up. Don't assume dickhead and don't call here asking what my title is. Needless to say I just need to go the hell home and chill out. Its safer for everyone.
Oh and its 300 damn degrees today, so that isn't helping my disposition either. I am worried about the dogs being home in all this heat this weekend without Daddy and Bud and I am hungry again cause I had to basically start over again on my diet. Lets talk about the diet shall we?
So, I probably didn't mention it here but sometime in April I got the MF'ing flu. Full blown, terrible knock you out with fever and chills, sweating through clothes, barely coherent and miserable flu. Who the fuck gets the flu in April? I mean I had the exact same issue I had last time I got it which is I felt the signs, went to my doctor who told me it was fuckin acid reflux and then I spent the next week half dead with the flu. Seriously, can y'all get your symptoms straight? I know the difference between reflux and the GD flu!
So I spent my conscious hours watching daytime tv which included Dr. Oz and he was talking about the Dukan Diet. Low carb, low fat, high protein. I watched it for as long as I was awake, then I did a little more research once I got better and then I bought the book. Went on it in May in preparation for the graduation and immediately lost 5 lbs in the first 5 days. So it got better and easier as I went along and lost a solid 10lbs in less than a month. I started telling my mom about it and frankly anyone who would listen. This shit works people, no bullshit. So now mom is losing all kinds of weight and despite the heckling she is getting from her sister and friend she is looking real good. Really there is only one week of protein only and then you are on protein and veggies the rest of the time. I figure you can do almost anything for a week, especially if it works but hey y'all go on and keep laughing at my diet I will keep laughing at you trying to zip your pants.
On a whole other note, I have decided to hide my dumb ass ex husband's statuses on FB. The whole family is just crazy and stupid and they spend all their time telling FB about it. I cant have this kind of drama in my life and it reminds me that my son has been 100% better off for not having these loonies in his life for the last 18 years. Get thee some professional help and stay off my damn timeline.
Okay that's it, short and sweet.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Turning Tables
Sometime last month I was toiling in fields of this hellish plantation when my little "you've got a friend" request went off. I will cut right to the chase and tell you that it was none other than my ex husband asking to be my friend on FB. I figured that someone told him that I had just posted pictures of his son from the prom. Nosiness in my mind seemed to be the only thing that would warrant such blatant fuckery and line stepping on his part. So after I ranted, smoked half my pack, downed some anti-psychotics and basically melted down like a fuckin crazy person in this bitch, I proceeded to bury myself in work for the remainder of the day to remove myself from it. It was like having the devil look over your shoulder for 6 straight hours. Words cant even begin to describe the level of seething hot anger that was radiating from me. None the less I managed to make it through the day and not lose too much more of my cool, but it was close to being a real situation for me. I saw this as my opportunity to send that damn letter and be done with his absent ass once and for all. So, I sent him a FB message and asked him for his email address, which surprisingly he supplied. I was loaded for bear and ready to lower the boom with that incendiary device of a letter. Finally, I was gonna say my MFing piece about all the years of bullshit.
Now ask yourself if that's really how it went down....Yeah, didn't go that way at all. Somewhere between the plantation and the metro station I had a fit of conscience (which is unfamiliar territory for me considering my "act first think later" mentality) and started thinking about my amazing, wonderful (and completely dying on the inside because he cant reach his fuck of a father) son who wants nothing more than to have his dad see him cross that stage. At that moment I knew what I had to do. I had to put my letter on ice and give my son his father's email address. Damn it I hate when I make sense. So before I could start dreaming up more insidious and hateful shit to do, or worse before I could talk myself out of a smart decision I went home and gave him the email address. Then I told him hurry up and get in contact with his dad. I was unhappy but I knew it was right for my son.
So then I told my mother what I did and she told me I had done the right thing. Of course it didn't feel like it. I hate the high road because the path is full of rocks and thorns and the air is thin. That's when my son walked in and told me his father was very excited to come and wouldn't miss it for the world. Before that moment I just felt nauseous, after that moment I was hoping my suicide wouldn't be too much of a clean up. Seriously though, I was not looking forward to being in close quarters with this dude and my folks, and my poor boyfriend (who's 30th birthday was the same day btw) on my son's day of crowning achievement. Now I have to play nice, fan-fuckin-tastic.
Oh but hold on, it doesn't end there. Then, my cell phone buzzed and wouldn't ya know it, there is a text from none other than my fail ass ex husband. He wants to know why when he sends me a friend request I ask for his email. I didn't answer that honestly but I wanted to. I wanted to say that you came this close to getting a letter that would hand you your pathetic ass but nope, I just had a reasonable chat like an adult and that's when he went left and hit me with the apology.
That's right you read it right, this fool, Mr. missing in action sent me a damn apology and a thank you for raising my son. What does that even MEAN???? Seriously, what is that? I mean it was a general sweeping thank you and apology but still. I processed it as "You did an awesome job raising my kid while I was off playing daddy for some other folks, now that he is 18 I am sorry I wasn't there to help but now that there is no money involved I am back". Then, he says to thank my parents for all they did to get our son to this point. I am looking around like I am being punked. Seriously, where is the hidden camera? Just let me know now so I can get the shock over with.
He decides that he should share how he moved out of his marital home with that fat, non cooking sow he married and that he has changed, grown up...found god (stop me when you start to gag or your eyes refuse to roll back down out of your head) and wants to make amends with everyone he has hurt, especially me and his son. So I said, oh okay and then I stopped texting and went the hell home to drink a bottle of wine. I couldn't deal. Prom nearly took me out emotionally the Saturday prior and I had just spent the evening licking envelopes and mailing out graduation announcements all while having a text conversation with the person I possibly hate the most in the entire world while he tells me that he wants to make 13 years of emotional torture and mental pain right.
I came home and I couldn't even get the story out to Erica. I just cried through the whole thing. Blubbered like a damn fool cause I was even more angry than I had been prior to his contact. How dare you want to make it right now, after all the hard work is done. Between sobs and gnashed teeth I said "I could have lived the rest of my life without ever hearing this. I was fine hating him, and now if I don't let him make this right for Billy I am the asshole." So I slept on it. Fitfully mind you. Maybe it was the half gallon of wine I drank to drown out the emotion of the day. Needless to say after that chat I was not looking forward to graduation day. I decided that the text chat (and the friend request) warranted some sort of response. So the next day I wrote him this.
Hall,See that? That's me again, on the GD high road. Why in the world would I feel it necessary to respond? My son, that's why, and anything that makes him happy is gonna be what I do. The letter isn't quite as sincere as it looks. I mean, come on who really forgives and forgets? Not me pal, I just threw that last bit in for gramatical color. There were a few more emails. Him explaining, me explaining. You know....hell you don't know cause I don't know. It was just weird.
Listen I really appreciate the conversation we had last night. Billy
is really excited that you are going to be able to come to his
graduation. He has worked much harder than you know for this moment
and it meant a lot to him to have you there watching him on the
biggest day of his young life. He is super proud of himself and he
should be.
As for the Facebook friendship thing...I don't want you to take this
the wrong way but I don't know if I am really ready for that. I have
spent a whole lot of years being very disappointed in your involvement
in Bill's life, and while I honestly believe that you mean me and him
no harm its tough for me not to still have some anger where you are
concerned. I forgave you a long time ago, but its been hard to forget
so give me some time. I don't hate you, but there is still pain.
What I really want is for you to get to know your son. Really know
him. He is about as cool a person as you could ever know. Smart and
funny and really genuine of heart. Doesn't care about money or titles
or where he falls on the popularity scale and he already has his
career picked out, which btw he is really good at.
You and I can work on this friendship thing. I am not against it.
I will let you know what the deal is with the bus
situation. We will get it worked out.
Tiff
I figured that the weeks between Prom and that day would be filled with angry tears and enough red wine to float a ship but things were so crazy busy that I just simply didn't have time to commit to any of it emotionally. Sometimes the lord knows what he is doing when he makes you so damn busy you cant see straight. Graduation straight snuck up on me and with it so did that fail ass bus lady's email at 4pm on the Saturday before. Telling me "sorry, I didn't get your seats" which sent me into another emotional fit thinking about what was gonna happen when we had to drive down there. Would I be stuck in a seat between him and my boyfriend? What the hell was going to happen to me on Graduation day? That's when I remembered that I wrangled 4 extra tickets from that fool at the school and because of the bus problem I wasn't able to use one. I managed to get my son's favorite cousin invited and that broke up the seating enough to make us take three cars. Its a damn good thing I am smart.
So the day arrived and I was running around like a damn basket case. I am pretty hard to unspazz once I start, and this day was no exception. I got my son out of the house early and I came back and got dressed and tried not to be unreasonably ill. At this point I am gonna fast forward cause the graduation was a blur. He was very cordial, and really not at all what I expected. The day just flew by. Introductions, driving, parking, running, sitting, snapping photos, leaving the venue, more photos, walking, more driving, more photos, lunch and that was that. He was gone by 3:30 and I dropped the kid at a graduation party. The boyfriend and I went to his dads to finish out his birthday and the evening ended.
I feel like I left something out.....Oh wait yeah the part where we had Bills party Saturday and a check came from the child support office for $600. Could have knocked me the MF over with a feather. I was shocked and I damn near passed out but once I got over the shock I hurried up and put it in the bank. That was Sunday, father's day...and well...I friended him on Facebook and my first official olive branch was a happy father's day post on his wall. Did I say I hate the high road??? I just don't understand myself sometimes. I guess its cause I want all this so badly for my kid. Cause if being understanding and letting this dude make amends will give him even an ounce more happiness then I will do it.
How do I feel about all this honestly? I really don't know. I mean some of those emails we exchanged got weird. Like, there is a real foggy retelling of the past on his part that almost made me flare up but hell just cause I remember 13 years ago like it was yesterday doesn't mean that he does. That and his new found comfort with expressing his feelings sort of vexes me too. At a point I thought he was hitting on me (which I highly doubt now looking at his new GF) no seriously, he said something about touching my hand during the MANDATORY prayer at Kevin's memorial service (yall remember, where I had to babysit his monkey ass) and he said he "felt" something (pause, blink blink). I stopped short of telling him that what he felt was the searing anger lapping at the surface of my composure. That was upsetting for sure, that and he uses the word love very liberally, like shaking on salt, which I find confusing and well...bitch made for a man. Not only that but he is way too chummy with me like the 10 years prior to the split were fodder for good times, jokes and drinks. Um no, you put me through hell homie I haven't forgotten. Last but definitely not least is my utter distaste for his professing to make it up to ME personally. You can go head with that man, I'm good. I don't need to be made up to, I need you to do that with the boy. Do I still hate him? Ehhh fuck me I don't know, but do I think he is the braying ass I pegged him for 3 months ago? Time will reveal. I am willing to see how this goes.
In the end I did send that letter and to his credit he took it for what it was and again apologized and admitted that there was nothing untrue in it. I give him a little credit there. That letter was a motherfucker. Granted, I am not liking having him in my daily consciousness. Its tough watching his every damn move on FB and trust me he posts a whole bloodclot lot. Photos and shit, its ridiculous. Hall checked in here, Hall likes this restaurant, Hall likes this bar, Hall got new tires here, Hall quotes this bible passage (no seriously wtf) Hall is in a relationship with Tina. BTW that makes three T's as relationships. Me, the new exwife and the new girlfriend. Its getting out of hand. I am not gonna tell you how to live your life man but you probably shouldn't get another chick's name tattooed on you. Let me not even go there about the leaving your marital home in February and being in a committed relationship (sans separation agreement and divorce decree) by June. I think this is how some other stuff popped off in June of 98. Let the dust settle, damn.
I would like to add one spiteful note to this post because I dont spout off about the bible in all my emails and FB posts, and I still cuss like a sailor and occasionally drop it low. I think that karma is amazing. This week thanks to FB I had the pleasure of seeing my exhusband post photos of himself and the new girlfriend with his two children by the new exwife. I immediately flashed to that time that my son came home from a week long trip with his daddy and new girlfriend (that's new exwife to you) and announced that he was made to sleep in the bed with them the whole trip. He didn't even know we were splitting up. That crow must be cold and greasy new exwife, and that karma must be hot like fire. You reap what you sew bitch. Good luck covering up that heinous wolf tattoo with Hall's name. Okay now I am done :)
