dirty laundry

If it’s clean laundry can I talk about it? 

When I was little, my mom used to say…

 
“We just don’t air our dirty laundry. It’s not right. It’s not nice. And the whole world doesn’t need to hear about what happens behind closed doors.”

But what if it’s not dirty? What if it’s good news, ya know? Do you still want to hear it? Misery loves company, but don’t you love to hear when I’m happy, too? I mean I can’t make this shit up, people! My life is my life. My mood changes on a dime. I take meds to help, sure…but maybe I should up them. ha. I actually read over my past blogs last night, just for shits and giggles. Holy crap! I’m like a bad acid-trip. Up and down. Highs and lows. No wonder I have so many readers! Shit. I’m more fun than Thunder Mountain! I should start charging for this. Dang.

And I totally get it, Trish. I do. It’s so circa 1974, not “airing our dirty laundry.  Not to say some things are better left unsaid, sure. And of course, not EVERYTHING needs to be broadcast and televised, shouted from the rooftops for all the world to hear. And I know everyone is so concerned about my boys. I hear it all the time. In grocery stores. In carpool. At football games. I got it, girls. One day, my boys will read this blog…and they will have some questions. And then what? Hmmm. Let me think. Well, I will have the answers. I will say something FABULOUS to them. In response to their questions. But for now, they know I blog. And they know it’s “R-rated”. And they respect that. And truth be told, there is not one thing in this blog that I wouldn’t say to them. At the appropriate time, okay? I’m hoping that I will be so insanely famous by then, that no one will even care. The boys will be in college, hiding from embarrassment. lol.

But really, what would it be like if no one shared their stories? If we all sat quietly, and pretended life was all “picture perfect” and pretty? Boring. Blah. Bleech. Someone has to do it. Some of us have to bare our souls, and tell the truth…or what the hell would we all talk about? I feel like I’m taking one for the team! I’m the sacrificial lamb, so to speak. omg. haha. Who’s to say that my stories aren’t making other people feel better, or stronger… or just like their lives aren’t so fucked up! I mean my life isn’t SO bad, all y’all. For fucksake, there is hope. I mean, I this shit basically writes itself. I sit here, and just type how I feel, and it just comes out. And it’s real, it’s not contrived, or bullshit. I am just telling you how my life is going.

I think you like to hear. Maybe you don’t give a shit. But it’s good for me. I love to write it. I love to tell you that I have a new man in my life. And that I have amazing sex. And that I feel pretty, and wanted again. And that I’m happy. And in love. And that there is hope for women who gave up everything for their children, and lived in miserable marriages. And for men who feel the same way, too. I think it’s cool to share the good stuff, and the bad. The clean and dirty laundry. I think it’s good to know that divorce brings out the worst in a person, but also the best. I have realized something so crazy-over-the-top-important in the past few weeks, that I have to share. So really listen right now, okay?

Here is my “soap-box-speech” of the week…

Remember how I talked about changing myself in past blogs? I questioned if  I had to change to be with someone else, or if I should change my personality? I have come to realize that the answer is NO. But…I did have to change certain behaviors. Not all of them, but some that were pretty major that I noticed with Mark. It’s not so much about changing who I am, but just tweaking certain behaviors that I noticed weren’t working. Does that make sense? Like being so impulsive, for example. Not reacting as quickly to situations. Breathing, before reacting. Not pushing send. Or actually sitting on my hands. I swear, I have fucked up past relationships. My ADHD kicks in, and boom! But who am I hurting? Myself. I start fights for no reason, and it’s a fucking downward spiral into sabotaging the whole relationship. When I just should’ve shut my pie hole. yup. Count to ten, Jen.

Ok, hopping off. But you get it, right? I swear, I will not fuck this one up. Scott’s a laid-back, no bullshit-kinda guy. Love it. Keeps me grounded. Mark digs him. Weird, yes. But true. They met last weekend for the first time, and totally hit it off.  I was like, really, do you two want a room?  Figures, they would like each other. After all, I do have GREAT taste in men. And now, the boys think he’s a “snake-killing-hero”, and although we are taking it slow…I adore him to bits.  I have no idea how he puts up with my craziness, or this blog…but I must be doing something right.

Or, I’m just really, really good in bed. ;)

xo j