You're Toxic, I'm Slippin Under ...

A rare "two whines in one day" treat! Here is a synopsis of my hourlong IM with C, analyzing my neuroses.

I personify stupidity. Stupidity is defined as repeatedly banging your head on the same wall, but expecting different results. What the hell is wrong with me? I'm an attractive, accomplished woman. So why the hell do I want someone that blatantly disrespects me? Is the "wild oat sowing" period measured in time, or amount of partners, or what?

C says that it is measured in age. You have sown the appropriate amount of oats when you are of the age that you can grow up and realize what is best for you and you "grow up". I am in full agreeance with C ... R has not yet reached that age.

This all begs the question: Is this a "do as I say, not as I do" situation? By this I mean, do I wait in celibacy until R pulls his crap together and stops dry-humping random women in bars? Or do I move on, and hope he can catch up when/if he grows up? Put yourself in this position: Suppose that Someone pours their heart out to you, as I did to R this past week (and I DID pour my heart out). Do you take it more seriously if they say those things, and clear out all other "suitors", or do you watch them screw their way through the bar and think "hmm ... maybe she wasn't as serious as she said."

I hate moral quandaries.

Most of us spend the first six days of each week sowing wild oats, then we go to church on Sunday and pray for a crop failure.

How long is a normal period of "oats-sowing" post-divorce? For instance, I think I have completed a proper amount of sowing (OK, maybe a little more than a proper amount, but I digress), in a compact amount of time, and now I'm ready to try to work things out with R. Apparently, R has not finished amply sowing his.

We met up today for a nice walk, after dealing with a cranky Princess. Thought that she was coming down with that rotten flu that's going around, but it was a false alarm. We walked around Antrim Lake twice, and it was nice (yet slightly strained). I remarked as we hugged by his car that "this is always the difficult part" and he just chuckled and said "yeah" and mumbled something else. Then I stuck my foot in my mouth ... GOD DAMN IT I should have left the exchange at that. I said something to the effect that he was afraid to touch me ... because I thought that he was afraid he may not stop. I turned on my heel and walked away. I feel like I totally overstepped my boundaries. To atone for my sins, I came home and cleaned my kitchen and cat's box. Two chores that I can't stand, but I feel better for completing them.

I had a long conversation with C this evening, actually, it was me talking and him listening. C has made it a point not to get involved with the drama that is our lives. Here's what I gleaned from the discussion: I think that pushing R about a relationship (no matter what kind of one) is counterproductive. But the question still remains ... how long is long enough to sow the oats? How long do I wait for him to get this out of his system, or do I even wait?

It would be horribly hypocritical for me to be upset, or angry, or dare I say ... jealous! But you know what? I am. I'm upset that he's seeing someone else (which I have known about for a while now), I'm angry that I have allowed him to rent space in my brain, and I'm jealous that another woman is in my bed, in my house, where I should be. If I had the intestinal fortitude to tell R this, would it make a difference? Or would he just think that I'm a nutcase?

At least I'll have something to tell my shrink about this week.

A Brave New Girl.

This song, even though it's by Britney Spears, is strangely appropriate right now. It's hard to imagine me as someone that isn't an open book in person, but actually saying the things that I write is very hard for me. Today, I all but cornered R about the card. I actually told him that we were completely ignoring the pink elephant in the living room. Because, we were. We both knew it was there, but we were dancing around it. But I am so proud of myself, because I went there with the purpose of actually setting the record straight. Well, that, and finishing my tax paperwork. But I digress.

He and I had a nice conversation, but it was interrupted by C's girlfriend stopping over (she had went walking with us earlier today). We made plans for me to come over tomorrow AM to finish the conversation. We discussed that we both missed each other, but neither of us knew what we wanted from the other. I think that both of us are in this "limbo" place because we are both so stubborn that we can't admit that we screwed up. But I did. I said, for the first time, that I was truly sorry. That is a HUGE step for me.

AND, get this ... I'm down a whopping 11 pounds in two and a half weeks. Apparently, not eating does a body a world of good.

I'm a brave new girl.

People can change their behaviors! They just need a reason, or lots of prescription drugs.

I think this statement is very true. People don't just change for no reason whatsoever ... they only make changes if they have had a traumatic event, or get a pill-poppin shrink.

I think that, by process of eliminating the drug angle, the trauma of my divorce has caused a major period of introspection. I have honestly grown as a woman in the past five months, more than I did over my entire college career. Hell, I think I was drunk for most of my college career.

Today's hormonal rant: Why is it that Mother Nature decides to wreak havoc on your life, two weeks early, when you have nothing to take care of the situation in your Kate Spade?

I called the doc and she asked me if I'd changed my eating habits and that it may be caused by that. So let me get this straight ... I eat crappy food, and I get fat ... I bleed. I eat right, drink less caffeine and other intoxicants, and I try to lose weight ... and I bleed. What. The. Hell.

OK. end of hormonal rant.

At any rate, I certainly hope that the sand and water give way to stone soon. I'm tired and weary of feeling as if I'm in limbo. Or maybe I'm just tired and weary of R keeping the big pink elephant alive in my living room. You know, everyone sees it looming, and everyone knows it's there, but no one seems to admit its existence.

I am enjoying this wonderful weather, and plan on enjoying a wonderful nap with the window cracked open as soon ... as ... I ... hit ... send.

solid stone is just
sand and water, baby
sand and water
and a million years gone by

Think about it. Sand + Water = Stone. Two substances that, alone, are not solid enough to sustain anything. But stone ... made up of just sand, water, and time ... is strong enough to weather even the toughest of storms. The song says "a million years gone by", but does it really take that long for the stone's strength to happen? The sand and water of my life will eventually strengthen into stone again, but I'm impatient for it to happen. How long does it usually take one to piece their life back together? Again, you can't look to the future if your past is present.

I can't sleep again. I think that I am reading far too much into this whole R thing. Maybe, maybe not. I just want some form of resolution, whether positive or negative, because this whole living in limbo thing sucks. As the princess says .... thaa juss not wite. We have plans on Saturday for me to finish my taxes, and I have offered movie times up for evening. I will need to firm up plans, one way or the other, tomorrow. I hope to be there when princess goes down for a nap, so that we can talk about this whole "Martini Puts Her Whole Life On Hold For R" thing. If not, I hope that we can at least steal a moment alone to talk about it. It's really hard to have a difficult discussion, like I am sure this will be, when there is a little cute person squawking about MOMMMEEEE!

I went tonight and got my hair colored and cut. I'm back to "OH MY GOD" red. I love the way my hair feels down my back right after getting it colored and cut ... it's so soft, and it tickles my skin. My eyebrows are perfectly arched again, as well. So, should I get rejected .... at least I'll look good while doing it.

It's not that I'm lazy, it's that I just don't care.

But if I did care, I'd buy you a red swingline stapler.

Today was interesting, at best. The morning drug on at work, because I worked on spot audit crap. Again. Or, actually, it's more like "still". Then I had an appointment at lunchtime, and then the afternoon FLEW by. Picked up the princess. We were going to go to church for Ash Wednesday, but Princess is sick. She's not really sick, but she's whiny and irratible. I decided that it would be best if I didn't inflict that on everyone else. So we just stayed home, hung out, and watched Princess throw mini corn dogs all over the clean carpet.

I'm really tired, I hope I can sleep tonight. Still no word from R about the card, but I can honestly say that I have talked to him more in the past few days than I did for the last six months of our marriage. It's been really nice.

Ummm, yeah. If he could get his head out of his ass and realize that I'm waiting for a resolution to this mess, that'd be greaaaaat.

We discussed "The Passion" and I nonchalantly suggested that we let a friend of his watch Princess on Saturday evening, and go to see it together. He didn't say no, but instead, "let me talk to her about it and see".

Damn. Sho feels good to be a gangsta.

let the rain fall down and wake my dreams
let it wash away my sanity

Interesting day.

R called me this AM as I arrived in my cubic-hell. He told me that he got the card, and he read it, and that he didn't know what to say. Fair enough. I want to give him a few days for the sheer magnitude of what I said to kick in. Because I meant every word.

Went for wings this evening. I am stuffed! Add this up for me ... 14 wings + 2 Bud Lights = how many weight watchers points? I don't think I wanna know.

Time for me to go sleepy bye. Have a fabulous night. Last night, I slept for the first night for a very long time. It remains to be seen where this will go with R. But I have a feeling I will definitely enjoy the ride.

¡Yo lo hice!

Apparently, I have been watching too much Dora lately. That means "I did it!"

I left the card for R. I am quite curious to see what will happen now. Even if nothing pans out from it, I will still be relieved that I let it out.

Back to watching "Fast And The Furious". I'm not sure who's hotter ... Vin Diesel or Paul Walker. Paul Walker is a little bit Tucker Max looking. But oh, I just want to rub Vin's bald head. He's yummy.

Thought for the day: "Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming... 'Wow! What a ride!' "

Risk Management, Not Risk Aversion.

Here's what I wrote in the card to R. I will deliver it, by hand, tonight. We shall see what the reaction is.

From investments to emotions, I've always been really nervous about taking a risk. Well, today, I'm taking what is most likely the biggest risk of my life. Time and time again, I have tried to concoct a persuasive case to present to you. But every time I try, I can't quite find just the right words. This card did it, and quite eloquently, with the exception of this one thing:

I don't want to go back to where we were at the end of our marriage. Ever. But I do want to start over again from here. With you.

We have both grown and changed so much in the past six months ... me far more so than you, I believe. I don't want to rush into anything, actually quite the contrary. Instead, I want to rediscover what it is that made us love each other in the first place, and start from there.

There are so many things that have led me to this place. Won't you let me tell you what they are?

Raise Your Glasses, Shake Your Asses.

Oh my goodness. Last night was quite the experience.

M, A, and MAV all came in to go to the Jordan Knight concert. That man makes my panties just as damp as he did when I was 12. Here's a quick synopsis:

We got there at about 8, and the opening act came on at about 8:30. A really cute (and jailbait aged) young man opened the show ... Jerry Reid. Cute little boy, but he was just that ... a little boy. I mused to A that looking at a young man like that would usually buy me a one-way ticket to jail. Never mind the fact that Flannagan's is a 21-and-up establishment.

The closer it came to time for Jordan to come on, the more crowded it got. I swear, it was a damned third-grade teacher convention in there. It's not the normal clientele of Flannagan's, but I figured that when you add in the catalyst that is Jordan ...

At any rate, Jordan finally took the stage at about 9:30, amid many ear-piercing screams that evoked memories of the "endless summer" tour. But the difference is here is 14 years and the consumption of a lot of beer. He told lots of fun stories, and sang some of his new stuff ... but he definitely brought the house down with the old NKOTB stuff. He even did the whole "Right Stuff" dance for us. He did a great job. And M kept us in stitches throughout the show with her thorough-nearing-stalkerlike knowledge all all things New Kids. She even knew their astrological signs! Although she's nowhere near as freaky as the Chicago Five ... these five women that follow Jordan around on tour. They were there last night. That's obsessed. M is just merely an enthusiastic fan.

But the best part of the evening was LONG after the show was over. After we left the bar and came home, we sat and watched a few old videos of MAV in an old talent show. She, her sister, and some of their little cronies entered this whole "act like the new kids" show, to win tickets. Holy hell, some of those kids were so fucking funny I totally just fell OUT. I know it's wrong to laugh at them, but for god's sake, it was 1990 and these kids had the total fashion to prove it. And I had a few beers in my body, so my already scant supply of decorum was dulled significantly. M had no alcohol throughout the night, so she and A took off to head home about 1:45 or so.

Shortly after they left, my phone rang. It was A, muttering something in the phone about a flat tire. So, MAV and I hopped in the truck and zipped up to get them. M had the car jacked up, and was getting ready to take the iron to the nuts to get them off. So she pulls all the nuts off, and sticks them in her coat pocket. She then proceeds to grab the rim, and tries to pull the tire off. It's stuck. And the damned thing is NOT budging. So, I get this brilliant idea to go up the street to the gas station and get some fix-a-flat. Um, it did NOT work. Not even CLOSE. More on this later. I burned up the phone line to C (reference: the whole "wing" rant from last Tuesday) and T, and apparently neither were up at 2-something A.M. I left the appropriate voice mails, and told the girlies that we had exhausted all my boys that could get the tire off. I offered to call R, but we all decided that this was a poor course of action. So, we finally (45 minutes later) give up the ship, limp the car into a nearby parking lot, and jack it up until morning. Home to my house, watch Cruel Intentions (DAMN is Ryan Phillippe HOT) and pass out cold.

Fast forward to 8 AM, and T calls to wake me up. He comes down to help us get the tire off. We are unsuccessful. What's three girls and one very large man to do now? But wait! Nothing wins my heart like a resourceful man ... he had his AAA card handy ... and within 45 minutes (and a dentally-challenged tow truck operator) we had the tire off and the donut on. M and A were then on their way to procure a new tire, and MAV and I headed to pick up the princess. Why did M and A need a new tire? Oh, only because the inside of the tire looked like it had been put through my blender with a fifth of vodka.

All in all, a wondermous evening had by all. Good friends, good beer, good music, and a new tire for M. And FYI, the "NKOTB Remixes" are being released on March 30th. You bet I'll be second in line to get that CD ... only after M.

A "Fish-ism".

Have you ever watched "Ally McBeal"? On that show (before it got really shitty and they cancelled it), one of the main characters, "Fish", always had an interesting way of putting things. Occasionally, he would come up with these completely useless and meaningless words or phrases, and the people on the show would term theim "Fish-isms".

One of the recurring themes on that show was Ally/Fish's neuroses, and their shrink. One of the things this wacky lady (played by Tracey Ullman) told them was to find a "theme song". At the time, I thought it was one of the most bizarre and ludicrious things I'd ever heard. Well, I am eating my Manolos, because I do it now too.

But see, I either am a mad genius or just flat out mad ... because mine changes quite often. I am a fickle woman. This week (really, today ...) it's George Michael's "Freedom 90". Here's a little sample of the words ...

I think there's something you should know
I think it's time I told you so
There's something deep inside of me
There's someone else I've got to be

I'm on my way out here pretty soon, but wanted to stop in and say hello. And of course, the night wouldn't be complete without saying "I -HEART- JORDAN KNIGHT".

Have a wonderful evening.

Can you get to the future if your past is present?

Indeed, a lovely quote from Carrie Bradshaw. But how true it rings! Is it really possible to "move on" with your life, if your past continues to be a major driving force in it? As I told my friend A earlier today, I'm not very good at relinquishing control of things, also known as being "helpless", nor am I any good at being alone. And I'm plenty of both of those for now: helpless and alone. My horoscope said that it was a good day to "lay my cards on the table", but apparently it wasn't the best day to do so after all ... or R would be here listening to me do so, right now. I did invite him for a glass of wine (in his defense, it WAS via cell phone voice mail at 7:30 tonight, so it was a half-assed idea anyways), and didn't receive a return phone call. Granted, he's notorious for turning it off at night. Here's hoping he's just asleep.

Tomorrow night, I'm set for a fab-u-lous "girls night out". It will be great! We're going to see Jordan Knight at Flannagan's. I realize that my bizarre desire to see him perform live is bordering on teeny-bopper, but holy hell ... you should see M's obsession with him! She was ready to throw DOWN with me because I mentioned how cute I thought he was. Yes, dear readers. I'm 27, have a child, a luxury SUV, a great townhouse in a fabulous neighborhood, and a fast-track job with a major financial corporation ... And I -heart- Jordan Knight.

Oh, and P.S. ... I am NOT the designated driver tomorrow night ... to the contrary, I'm the designated drunk. I'm planning on becoming one of those women that I like to talk about, and having M, A, and MAV take me home and drop my sorry self on my couch afterwards. Make sure to turn off your cell phones, boys and girls, because I sure feel a drunk-dial comin on.

If It's "NEW", It Can't Be "IMPROVED".

Notice a new feature to my little corner of the 'net. Make sure to leave comments on my pithy writings!

Have a great day, I'm off to work now.

As Sheryl Crow says, "A Change Will Do You Good".

I am at a personal and professional crossroads. I'll start with professional, because that seems to be a more logical explanation for why I feel the way I do.

Right now, I have some deciding to do. Should I pursue my first love, Human Resources? Or should I continue to court the whore that took me away from it ... Risk Management? Both functions actually feed my incessant nosey-ness, and both have lucrative career paths within the company I have come to love. Both functions also have a significant amount of, shall we say, "lack of cooperation from others" ... also lovingly referred to as "the rat squad". I am working on finishing my second degree, so that I can move up much more quickly. But I'm really just still at a loss, I can't decide what I want to do if I grow up.

On the personal front, not much has changed. I am still very conflicted about my relationship with R. He was so down last night, and every bone in my body wanted to just take care of him. But I know better. I know I shouldn't. But you know what? If he would have just asked ... I would have.

T is coming home tonight. I have put some distance between us, because he has some personal drama he needs to sort out as well. Although, comparatively speaking ... he's in a MUCH more dramatic place than I. That should frighten him.

Oh, I almost forgot! I'll share a good laugh from a co-worker: He informed me that I am what's affectionately known as "a dra-magnet". Apparently this is a "metrosexual" term for a drama queen that just naturally attracts drama to her like a magnet. It seems like Scott sure knows your friend Martini!

Also, here's a little dissertation that I shared with R today. Thoughts? I think that it's obvious that my faults make me a tasty little dish, but unfortunately it doesn't make for a good employee or wife.

Professional and Personal development are two separate entities, but they strongly inter-relate. If your home life is happy, and you are happy with yourself, you will be far more productive and efficient at work.

Ever since I've started paying much more attention to my personal and professional development, I feel like I'm a better woman. In fact, I *AM* a better woman. I now have a much firmer grip on my life (personally and professionally), and I can honestly say it has made me a more productive and valuable employee, as well as a better mother and friend. If you know your strengths and weaknesses, you are better off. For instance, my biggest weakness is my lack of self-reliance. I take others' opinions too seriously, and wear my heart on my sleeve. This impacts my decision making ability, from all things boardroom, to "what's for dinner". I've learned to "toughen up" and accept constructive criticism, instead of becoming angry and sullen. This has a great impact on my daily life, whether it's personal, or professional. Another weakness of mine is a lack of self-esteem, but that is quickly returning. I realized that if I wanted to return to the Martini that everyone knows and loves, that I have to do it for myself, BY myself. No one can help me, I have to do it alone.

This is a great tool. --> http://www.franklincovey.com/missionbuilder/

It assists you in crafting your own personal mission statement. It comes out pretty cookie-cutter, but if you don't have a goal, you'll never reach it, right? It's a great place to start, and you can build your own from the framework they lay.

Here's mine ... it's obviously a work in progress, but you get the point.

My personal mission is to:
LEAD a life centered around the principles of leadership, honesty, patience, personal and professional growth, and lifelong potential.
REMEMBER what's important in life is family, happiness, respect for myself and others, financial security, and sense of accomplishment.
REVERE admirable characteristics in others, such as: being ambitious, caring, trustworthy, responsible, self-reliant, and fun. I will attempt to implement similar characteristics in my own life.
RECOGNIZE my strengths and develop my talents. I will continue to market myself as a person who is: adaptable, articulate, generous, hard-working, a leader, and open-minded.
HUMBLE myself by acknowledging that I can be disorganized, a procrastinator, and sarcastic. I am constantly striving to transform my weaknesses into strengths.

Work it, work it ... Feel the burn.

I've recently (over the past two weeks, anyways) discovered a very effective way to release my anger and stress. See, when I'm stressed, I put all my hate and anger into the pit of my stomach. And then, after work, I go and release it on the poor, unsuspecting elliptical machine. Consequently, my thighs, calves, and arms hurt now.

I realized today that I need to find a qualified individual that can perform a radical cranial/rectal excision. Translated: I need someone to pull my head out of my ass for me. Because, apparently, I can't manage to do it myself. I am in a very strange place, almost an emotional limbo, and that needs to end quickly. I seriously considered staging an intervention today, but my horoscope eerily warned against it. I know that it sounds a little odd that I would rely on my horoscope to make a decision like that, but it assisted my nervousness to the point where I thought that maybe it wasn't such a brilliant idea after all. Maybe the stars will align tomorrow.

Speaking of tomorrow, it will be 49* and sunny. I want to go for a walk, in the sunshine! I have spring fever something FIERCE. I just want to get out and feel the warm sun on my face, and a gentle breeze on my hands. And maybe I'll release my stress on my poor running shoes instead of the elliptical machine.

And the crappy part of my day (other than my incessant whining and pining for R) ... Howard Dean pulled out of the presidential race today. I don't know who will get my vote now, because I really like Edwards, but I know that Kerry will win. Oh my, what to do, what to do.

OH, and the best part of my day! I almost forgot. Saturday night, at Flannagan's ... JORDAN KNIGHT! Oh my goodness, be still my heart. Call me a dork all you want, he's a hottie.

Note the newest addition to my "daily reads". I don't know how she does it, because I sure don't have that kind of patience.

Quaker Steak And Lube on All You Can Eat Wings nite at least once a month. Before you say anything, it's not like that ... it would be like sleeping with my brother. At any rate, C and his girlfriend went for wings with me. I ate maybe two wings. I just can't eat. I get like this when I'm really stressed / depressed.

Adding insult to injury, I ran into an old friend at the Lube while we were there. He confirmed the rumor that I had heard from a friend that saw R at a concert last week ... I would prefer not to get into the specifics, but shall we say that the confirmation of what I already knew has just turned my stomach. I thought I was OK with him seeing other women, because it would be quite hypocritical of me to be angry with him for doing what I have already done. But I'm really upset. I cried in front of C. Not just a few tears, we're talking WATERWORKS crying. Crocodile tears. And I sobbed all the way home. What the hell is my malfunction?

Why do I feel like this? Shouldn't I be angry at R for what he's done to me, and the utter lack of respect he's shown me thus far? Did he NOT think that his antics would get back to me? Or maybe he did think that it would get back to me. I don't know.

Since Sunday, this is the grand sum-total of what I have eaten: Three Diet Pepsi's, a bagel with lite cream cheese, a hot chocolate, half of a chef salad with Fat-Free French, and three chicken wings. I can't eat. I'm not sleeping again. I shouldn't let this wretched situation rent any more space in my brain, but I just can't seem to help myself. I just feel like Happy Bunny had his way with me.

I'm a hypocrite. And I'm a wimp for crying like that in public. And my heart is breaking again, and again, and again ...

If I’m not made for you, then why does my heart tell me that I am?

Riddle me this.

Why is it that I can't seem to get R out of my head? I'm an intelligent, self-assured, and accomplished woman. I need not beg ANYONE for love or lust. If I want love, I have it from T, I just have to say "yes" to it. If I want lust, I have at least three folks on the line that I could make the booty call to. But I only seem to want what I cannot have. I'm really curious as to when I can stop wallowing in my self-pity.

Today, I had the day off. I went scrapbooking with a dear friend that has stood by my side throughout this whole ordeal. As I pulled out photos to put on the pages, I ran across so many with R. We looked so happy, so together, so ... right. But I think we lost ourselves in the daily grind of everything, and allowed people to come in between us. We allowed everyone else's opinion to shape our relationship, and I am so angry that I let that happen. I can honestly say that I am a much different person now; stronger and wiser. Will it make a difference? Only time will tell. But I don't know how much longer I can continue to feel like this. I can't eat. I can't sleep. I feel like crap. It is taking an ever-increasing amount of MAC Studio Fix to cover the bags under my eyes.

Tonight, I did something that I vowed never to do: I cried in front of my daughter. She just climbed into my lap and hugged me as I sobbed uncontrollably. I want her to see me as a strong and wonderful role model, but tonight my broken heart just couldn't take any more. It's a long story, but suffice it to say that my heart aches more and more every day. And I'm not just talking about yesterday's revelation ... I mean it. My chest literally hurts from the stress and pent-up feelings.

How do I feel today? In a word ... shattered.

A reason to celebrate: Grain ferments into alcohol.

Thankfully, Valentine's Day has come and gone. And now, it's time to celebrate far more important things: St. Patrick's Day.

Being a nice young lady of the Irish persuasion, I look very forward to a day when I can unleash my debauchery with little to no remorse. And the celebration of my heritage is a fabulous opportunity! The lucky day this year is a Wednesday. If you are in the Metro Columbus (Ohio) area, and would like to go out, just drop me a line.

Today, I spent a good part of the day with R. We had a nice and frank discussion of what makes a "milestone", and what would necessitate communication regarding our daughter. He is fully aware that the Haircut Incident Of 2004 was not a good thing, and agreed to never be that boneheaded again. And in return, I agreed to drop my assault with words. I also had a nice time with him, but it still is a bit uncomfortable. I'm not sure what he thinks of me after I dropped that bombshell of a letter on him three weeks ago. In it, I basically laid out my thought process, and why I thought our marriage failed, and how I thought that we had made a mistake by divorcing so quickly (from when we agreed to seperate until the decree was finalized was approximately three months). I'm not sure what he's thinking about it, or even if he has thought about it at all. But I do think I feel better for getting it off my chest.

Truth is, I think that I loved him enough for both of us. When, in all reality, I should have been looking past the "fairy tale" outside and should have been looking at the cold hard truth. The truth is that maybe I didn't try hard enough. Maybe I was hard headed and stubborn. But the truth is ... all the maybes in the world don't matter any more. At least, I don't think so anyways. Trust is a funny thing: it's so hard to earn, but so easily lost. And my trust was violated. He broke my heart, and hurt me far more deeply than anyone has ever hurt me before. There's only been one other person in my life that I have allowed to break my heart, and it's so bizarre that they both are around at nearly the same time. Can I forgive R for what he's done? Maybe. I forgave B, but it took seven years. I may have done it sooner, but it took him seven years to ask.

In other news, tomorrow is President's Day. This means, boys and girls, that I have the day off of work, paid. Oh, how I adore working for a bank! I plan on spending the day scrapbooking with a friend, and picking up my little princess afterwards.

Today's Drama: I found out by pure accident that a news anchor I've had a soft spot in my heart for ... is gay. How could I possibly have missed this? HOW? I'm crushed. My heart has broken in a million little pieces.

Amen. It's almost over.

Note the time. It's damn near midnight, which means that this wretched day is nearly over.

I'm scheduled to go and meet with R tomorrow at 1 or 1:30, that should be fun. Fun like a root canal. With no anesthesia.

I spent my day running errands, cooking dinner, and working on things for my class. I am such a nerd. What the hell is wrong with me? Please, don't answer that.

A Guest Writer.

This entry is a fabulous submission from my friend Drama Queen. Enjoy more of her rantings here!

"Move over on the "This made up Hallmark holiday sucks" bench. :-) I used to protest it in high school. I wore all black on Valentine's Day 'cause I HATED it. Brad and I don't celebrate it. Although, think back to grade school where you had a whole party with heart decorated cupcakes and all your friends. You got out of class for a little while and got to kick back, chat with your best friend, and enjoy some punch while handing out your Valentines. That was fun. I'm realizing I miss the old Valentine's Day when it was all about friends. I just hate the part that tells you you need to go out and be sweet just today, no other day, and everything will be perfect. @@

So let's go back to that gradeschool Valentine's Day. Screw jewlery and flowers and all that crap from guys. Lets send little paper Valentines (glitter and stickers are a must), have a cupcake (diets don't count when there's so damn much chocolate around), and celebrate the fact that our friends rock."

Love doesn’t get you anything but heartache, headache, and an occasional VD.

Tomorrow is Valentine's Day. And I'm a bitter bitch. I can't STAND the thought of it. I really have no reason, as I got two dozen roses from T today. He is so thoughtful and kind, save the whole "gone all week every week" thing.

I hate Hallmark holidays. Women that tolerate being treated like shit year-round somehow believe that all will be changed on that magical mid-February day. Here's a news flash: IT'S NOT GOING TO CHANGE. He's a prick all the other 364 (365 this year) days, what the hell makes this cold grey winter's day so romantic?

I'm going to go and take a midterm exam in the morning, and write a paper in the evening. I just think my time is best spent pursuing academic things, rather than emotional gratification. Of course, my friend Mr. Kendall-Jackson Chardonnay will keep me company throughout the day.

Happy fake-love day, indeed.

A gem from the Tucker Max message board ... sounds like a good description of your fair Martini.

Middle-aged Career Woman Barbie - comes with cell-phone headset permanently attached, glass of red wine, vibrator, and self-deluded notion that work can take the place of human contact. The deluxe set includes sofa bed so she can sleep in the office, and much younger, prettier assistant that she can abuse out of jealousy.

A Love Poem For The Men Who Let Me Down.

roses are red
violets are blue
if you have a valentines date
i hope she gives you herpes.

More gems like the above prose may be found ---> here, at YouYesYou.com.

Martini's Crappy Week.
Or, more realistically, "When It Rains, It Pours."

I know I've been scarce this week. I hate Valentine's Day, but more on that later. Here's my week, in a nutshell.

Monday: Got to work, dug through email, realized that all but 2 of my 11 teams missed my deadline on Friday. Spent all day begging for information. Got promises from managers, felt like a failure. Mom calls, and lets me know that she lost her vision in her right eye, and is going to the doctor in the AM. Bank that the truck is financed through is annoying R because they say I didn't make the payment (which I did. the check cleared MY account last Friday). I had to straighten that out, and all was well.

Tuesday: Got to work. The people that promised me stuff bailed out on me, for the most part. I went back to everyone asking for stuff AGAIN. Mind you, I'm now two days past deadline. Mom calls, needs surgery. Juggle schedule, request Thursday off, and figure it out that I'm on a nasty deadline and I will have to likely work on Saturday. Like it matters anyways. Bank calls R more, I scream at them more, they have to call R to tell him it was their mistake. Try to pack, am unsuccessful because I spent all evening fighting with the bank. My work calls, they are able to get The Princess in to the on-site child care center there on Wednesday, which is really good because I want her to be there a few times prior to my regular sitter taking Maternity leave for two weeks in late July.

Wednesday: R was half hour late bringing The Princess to me (he couldn't be bothered with taking her all the way to my work, he brought her to my house). Noticed her haircut. Yep, he took her to get her first official haircut without me. Cried all the way to work. Got to work. Still no paperwork. Yes, it was due on Friday. Spent all day going from meeting to meeting. My last meeting of the day wasn't a "turn your stuff in" meeting as previously stated, it was a "everybody tell Martini how much we hate her for dictating this project to us" bash fest. It ended with me and my manager walking away, and with us crying in adjoining stalls in the bathroom. I picked The Princess up from the center (she had SO much fun) and then went home to get on the road. Got to bed at 1:45 ish.

Today: mom's surgery. She had to be there at 6, so we were up at 5:30 AM. It was supposed to take an hour, two tops. She was under for four hours. Drove home.

So, that's where I've been. It's not much fun being me this week. Or, for that matter, any week.

Boys: None. I am planning on spending Saturday being with my only man that loves me (my cat) and a bottle or three of wine.

AWNSDI: $42.00 in gas. Get paid tomorrow. Thank all the Gods.

Insignificant Others.

This phrase was coined by someone on one of my email loops. It lovingly refers to those that insist on making your life a living hell.

I think that I have done some soul searching, and realized that it's not really R that I miss. It's the R that USED TO BE. For instance, I catch myself thinking about what "was", instead of what really happened. Not unlike that period immediately following childbirth ... it is so miserably painful that you swear you are never even looking at a penis again, for fear you'll be pregnant by proxy. But then, as time rolls on, the memory of the pain fades, and you start wanting another one.

Then, the two year molars hit. And you remember why you bought condoms in the first place.

AWNSDI: My checking account balance is ... $9.87. Damn, I'm good. I have this disgusting fear that I will bounce checks. I get pissed off when I pay bank fees, because I know the money goes to pay the salaries of slackers like me.

And FYI ... four days till I commence drinking at sunup, and continue it long after sundown. Anyone want to help? I have lots of martini glasses ...

878.4

That's how many miles I've put in this weekend. I'm still attempting to catch up from being gone all weekend. I'm absolutely exhausted. I have $10 and change in my bank account. Great weekend, all around.

AWNSDI: I have to get back to you on that. I will have to let my account "settle" this week and see what I bought. For shame on me.

Boys: None. They all suck. I'm contemplating batting for the other team ... if women didn't have so much damned drama, this would be the total answer.

Who said life was fair?

There aren't too many shows that I *must* watch. But I'm totally hooked on "Survivor: All Stars". And tonight, my heart was shattered.

My beloved Rudy got kicked off.

I find it amusing that these punk-ass "15 minutes of fame" chasing kids were threatened by a man three times their age.

The rest of my day ... boring ... sorry to disappoint. And my stupid W2 still didn't come. I'm really pissed off now.

AWNSDI: $20 ATM. The end.

Men: None. I'm starting to wonder about my boring self.

A Woman's Worth.

How do you define what you're worth? Professionally, there's a bit of a guide ... as your education level, job title, and experience goes up, so does your worth. But, in a relationship, your worth is always negotiable, and fluctuates wildly. For instance, as a single gal with no worries, your worth is smaller. But, when you become a mother, a wife, and the keeper of the domestic universe ... how can you put a price on that?

When R and I split up, I realized that a marriage is no more than a business contract. The whole "love and family" ruse is just that ... a ruse. You choose to be with someone that you love, but I think that you actually marry them for the business advantages. Other than a guarantee of next-of-kin, what's the point of the piece of paper? I don't mean to be bitter, really, but maybe my view is slightly jaded.

Will I ever marry again? Not likely. I work so hard, and I can't imagine ever dealing with this financial garbage again. But I do think that I will live with someone again. Having someone to share the expenses would make life so much easier, but how I do relish being able to sit on the couch in my underwear. As I am right now.

AWNSDI: $15 doctor copay, $10 shoes for my daughter (her feet grew 1.5 sizes in a month ... I bequeathed 5 pairs of her designer shoes to a friend's daughter today ... about $150 worth). I think I am going to sell my wedding rings to pay off some debt. I really don't need them, and I don't know why I'm holding on to them. Some random thought ... maybe some bizarre wishful thinking? Don't know.

Man update: Nothing. Nada. I am working on what I have affectionately termed as "The Six Sigma Project To Get Martini's Life Out Of The Pooper". Cleaning up all the loose ends, and telling people what they don't want to hear ... doesn't make it likely to get laid. Ah well, at least I'm getting rid of my drama.

Tax update: Still no W-2. Damnit.

Tired.

I won't write much tonight because I am so exhausted. I need to sleep. I wish that I could claim some hot lovin as the reason why, but I can't.

Oh, and to top it off ... no W2 yet. Good God will they just hurry the hell up already.

I'm apparently quite cranky. I will go to bed now. Good night.

The Brilliance Of Cleveland, Ohio

So, a few short years ago, Bill Belichick was fired by the Cleveland Browns organization. He just won the Super Bowl. I am firmly convinced that this is, indeed, yet another item in the long line of boneheaded things that Cleveland does with their sports teams. But it is also a phenomenon in life in general.

Have you ever had the whole "one that got away" theory? You know, with work, or school, or even a relationship? Is it the nostalgia that affects your memory so, or is it the wonder of what might have been? For instance, I wonder what would have happened if I wouldn't have picked my entire life up to follow R. Would I be in the same place in my life? Not likely. What if I would have taken the job I was offered with Miami-Dade? I'd likely be dead. Do you think that I would be happy if I would have stayed with my college boyfriend (aka One Hot Bitch)? Again, not likely.

There are days when I think that I'd rather be someone else. But for the most part, I wouldn't trade my life for a million bucks. Well, maybe a million bucks. OK, a million bucks and a Kate Spade ... and you got a deal.

In other news:

Survivor All-Stars started tonight. YAY, go Rudy. And I want to see the look on Jerri's face when she sees Colby.

Haven't heard a response on the letter to R. My letter took many forms over the past few months, so I would imagine it may take a little while for him to compose a response. My curiousity is well-piqued.

Haven't heard from T all weekend, apparently he is pouting again. Actually, he is pouting still, I assume.

Still waiting on that last W-2, so I can file my taxes already. I need the money.