I love having a blog.
I can say anything I want, and no one can stop me. Sure, there are repercussions. And people look at me differently. Especially in Temple. Whatever. People talk about me behind my back. But they did that already, at least now I have given them something good to discuss. And certain friends won’t make eye contact with me anymore. Wait, maybe they have Aspergers. And ya, a few guys don’t want to ask me out for fear I might write about them. Pussies. I even had a guy tell me he had his attorneys ready, and waiting. Omg. Really? Like you’re that important. Bring it. But it is what it is, and I’ll do what I want, and say what I want.. and continue to blog away. And why, you might ask? Well, because it feels fucking good. F-bomb alert! And did I really need to swear? No, but I typed it, and so there, the f-bomb will stay. And if releasing my inner most feelings, makes me feel better, then fuck it. I am keeping this up. I will do it until it no longer feels good.. or right. Even if my grammar and syntax sucks. Thank you, Mark.
I will stay in this “blogship” until it starts to get old. Or brings out the ugly in me. Or until it starts to make me feel bad about who I am. Or maybe.. I don’t like who I am when I’m doing it. Hmmm. Or like certain friendships we start to drift a part. Or realize we are just not working anymore. Have different values.. Where am I going with this? I wish I knew. I am digging deep. I need to just move it along…
Friendship. Another part of my life that has changed so drastically after my divorce…
It has nothing to do with blogging. I tried to segue, with that stupid fucking analogy.. but please. I should totally stick to what I know. Dancing, deejaying. and dick. My poor father. And yes, I added dick because it starts with a “D”. Omg. I am dying over here. I maybe should have said, divorce? Dancing, deejaying and divorce? But dick is so much funnier!! Isn’t it? And I really think I know about dick. Which is another blog. Coming soon! Whoop whoop! I’m so off topic. I want to talk about my loser-ass friends, who I really thought would be there for me, and just haven’t been around for anything except gossiping and bullshit. Not the letter “D”. Today’s blog has been brought to you by, the letter “D”. And the number, 248-736-xxxx. get it? ha.
I want to scream. And cry. And yell. WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?? Where have you been for the last 9 months, while I’ve been sobbing in my car after drop-off? Wasn’t I there for you through everything you ever did for the past 3000 years of your fucked up life? Was I not a good enough friend, or person.. I needed you. I need you now. I am sad. And lonely. And I look okay everyday, but I’m not. And I just want to talk. I just want to talk to you…I miss you. And us. I lost my husband. And my family. And now, I lost you? Ugh. I am making myself sad.
Is losing a friendship like a divorce, or is it worse?
If I could make a billboard for all newly separated women, it would read, “I NEED A FRIEND. I LOOK FINE, BUT I AM NOT!” Am I right? Especially, if we have kids. Do you think we are going to walk around blubbering, with snot running down our faces? Come on, people. We have to hold our shit together, at least in public, for our kiddos. I think, like most women, when something horrific happens in our lives, we tend to count the people who don’t show up for the fight..rather than counting the amazing ones who do. Which is sad. Because, let me tell ya.. I have had some of the most unreal women step up to the plate for me. And being away from my Mom, and my Sister, who are my life.. these girls are rock stars. I hope you know who your are, friends. I love you, dearly. Charlotte, and the D. Oh, and Miami. Thank you.
But maybe it’s me?
Nah, couldn’t be me. Okay, wait. Let’s just say, for a second that it’s me. Maybe, me being divorced is just not acceptable. Or maybe, it’s not who these women want to be when they “grow up”. I mean, I am not married anymore. I can’t do “married things”. Or play housewife, or go to couple’s nights.. and ya, it does hurt to show up to an event where the name of the table is the “flying solos”. Ouch. Gotta love that. But I think back to when my girlfriends got divorced, before me. Was I like that? Did I exclude them, because they didn’t have a hubbie? Wait. Let me think. NO. I didn’t, but hey, that’s just me. I guess everyone is different. And what if it’s the husbands? What if their husbands don’t want them hanging around a divorced chick. I could be a bad influence, or a WHORE. A two-bit HO! All divorcees are sluts. Yuppers. Rumor around town. Sigh. I’ll just have to get over it. And move on.
But it sure is hard. I miss them. My friends who loved me when I was married, and now avoid me like the plague. But unlike a divorce, I didn’t want these friendships to end. I didn’t do anything wrong. Or ask for it. Or choose. it. Or get to discuss it. One day, I just noticed, certain people kinda “fell” outta my life. Poof. Vanished. Like me being separated meant an instant Scarlet A on my chest. Jeez, girls. Are you uncomfortable, or don’t know what to say? Maybe you are worried I’m too upset to talk? Try it! Dang, give me a call. Or maybe you are jealous that I made it out, and you are still stuck in your marriages? Miserable, and sad..and I am happy? Shit, ladies. Don’t judge me for getting out. And I won’t judge you for staying. We all make choices. It takes a strong woman to know when enough is enough. Mark and I are both smart enough to know we deserved happiness. And that is brave. But it’s also brave to stay. And hard work to make a marriage successful. I get it! This is a judge-free zone. Just come back. I’m the same me, just minus a husband. And girls…it’s okay to not be married. 26.7 million people in the US aren’t. I asked Siri. And she knows everything. Wake up, and smell the divorce rate, it’s kinda the new black.
Anyhoo. I’m getting T-shirts made. “Don’t Hate Me Cause I’m Divorced”. Nah. Fuck that. Here’s a better one, “Happily Divorced, Screw You”.