Flutter

After two weeks of not talking to my butterfly, I broke down and sent a message via FB. It simply said, "Why aren't you talking to me anymore?"

I got back a huge diatribe. My favourite line was, "I offended you grandly, you offended me specifically." I replied with a simple, "I'm sorry. I miss you." And I got back another long diatribe, at the end of which was "I miss you too."

That was enough for me. Seriously, he had me at hello. (groan) So I sucked up my pride and made nice.

We went for a walk on Thursday and made small talk. I linked my pinky around his. He squeezed my hand. At the end of our walk, he gave me a really great hug and said "sorry" in my ear. I would have given him anything at that moment had he asked.

We made plans for the next night, dinner and a movie. Dinner was great. Lots of smiling and genuine conversation. Then it was back to my place.

We never did end up watching the movie...

Jerk Punch

I think there should be a law that allows women to punch men in the balls with brass knuckles when they act like assholes in a relationship.

Men are like dogs, you have to train them. And I think if men knew a brass knuckled punch in the balls was a consequence for their actions, that would probably make them think at least twice before going ahead with said asshole-ish action.

I saw my dead butterfly outside of the office yesterday. I know he saw me. And he didn't even acknowledge my existence. That hurt my feelings on top of everything else he did to hurt them.

A solid jerk punch should be allowed in this case.

I'm Worth It?

My good friend's husband has this to say about my dead butterflies. I think it's absolutely correct. I'm posting it here so I can come back and reference it whenever I need a reminder.

“Men are LAZY. They will only treat you well enough to keep you. The reason I treat my wife so well is because if I didn't, she'd be GONE IN 60 SECONDS. The reason she'd be gone is because she KNOWS she's worth it, and DEMANDS that level of respect. The reason men walk all over Paprika is because she doesn't like herself enough to believe that she deserves better. She SAYS that she loves herself and she's confident, but if that were true, she wouldn't spend so much time worrying about "What does THIS mean? What does THAT mean? What does it mean when he does THIS?" You want to know the correct answer to those questions? WHO CARES? Even if you're going to lie awake at night worrying about how your relationship is going, trust me, HE'S NOT. You talk about what you WANT (I want him to want to spend time, call, think about me, whatever). If what you want has to come from someone else, you're never going to be happy.”

Dead Butterflies

So much for that. Just when it was feeling so good, it crashed and burned.

Perhaps I'm just meant to be alone. Perhaps I'm not worthy of anyone to care about me for more than a minute.

Somehow my crazy ex-husband can convince a woman to carry his baby while he's living in his parents' basement without a car and is still married to me.

I can't convince the guy I was dating to spend more than one evening a week with me.

Let's say it together - WTF?!

I'm going to NYC next week. I think I may have to follow in the foot steps of Kim Cattrell's character of Samantha in "Sex and the City". Find me a random hottie and just fuck him.

Stranger Love

Lately I've been getting a lot of hugs from either total strangers or slight acquaintances. I don't know if I have some sort of pathetic look on my face, but people (mostly men) have felt the need to put their arm around me in comfort.

I've had a coworker, a film director, a band mate, a doctor and a mechanic all scoop me into their arms. Some have even kissed me on the forehead.

Do I look sad? I don't feel sad. And I'm finally all the way off my antidepressants. I am happy to report that I feel totally fine. I've been a little sick lately with blocked sinuses, but other than that, this is the happiest I've been in a long time.

Maybe it's because I'm just way too cute. So totally cute that these men can't help themselves. :)

Or maybe the universe is showing me some love. Either way, it's nice. Sometimes a little weird, but nice.

Baby Mama #2

Not only does Simon collect wives, he collects baby mamas. I found out through a friend of mine that he's gotten his current girlfriend pregnant. My friend wanted to break the news to me gently so she asked me out to dinner last night. She didn't want me to find out the way she did, via Facebook. Apparently, both Simon's profile picture and the baby mama's is a close up shot of the positive pee stick. (Eeewww!)



Now before you all shake your head thinking it was a mistake, I also found out that it was planned.

Planned?

PLANNED?

P.L.A.N.N.E.D?!?!?!?!

HELLOOOOOOOO? MCFLY?! Did you forget about your first daughter, for whom you can't provide child support? Did you forget you are living in your parents' basement? Did you forget you make minimum wage? Did you forget you don't own a car? Did you forget you don't even know how to file your own taxes?

Two words come to mind - mandatory sterilization.

And a few more words come to mind - thank GOD it's not me.

Bingo

I have a huge smile on my face. And it's because a man put it there last night. :)

Butterflies...

Red Flags

The Hot Docs Film Festival is in full swing, and I'm the Head Theatre Rep at the Al Green venue.

I was walking along Bloor on my way to the theatre yesterday, when I managed to catch a whiff of a guy's cologne who was walking in the opposite direction. It was Dolce & Gabbana, the exact same cologne that Simon wears.

Shudder.

My heart stopped for a good 10 seconds. I actually had to turn around to make sure it wasn't him. I knew smells could conjure up memories, but I didn't realize how strong of an association smell has with particularly bad memories.

I managed to recover from my slight heart attack and started my shift. Part of my job is making sure the directors who are in attendance are well taken care of. My 9pm screening had a director with the last name of Simon.

Double shudder.

Good thing I'm allowed to call them by their first name (Marc).

In that same screening, a young couple came with their baby boy. Of course, all of us girls were cooing over the little guy. I asked the father the baby's name. Simon.

Triple shudder.

I had to take a moment before I could regain my power of speech and continue cooing over Simon.

So, if you've taken a moment to tally, you can see there were three very distinct Simon signs. I have an eerie feeling that some sort of confrontation is going to happen. Things happen in threes for a reason. And I don't think those signs could have been any more clear.

I officially have my guard up. Here's to hoping it's just a false alarm.

Butterflies

Smiles.

Kisses.

Hugs.

Walks.

Fingers entwined.

Butterflies.

Worst Day Ever

I called the Superior Court of Justice this morning to see if my divorce application had been cleared by Ottawa. Much to my surprise, it was back!!!

My stomach started doing flips and my heart started beating a million beats a second. I called my DT to let her know about the amazing news! She immediately called the court to see if hers was back too - it was!!!

We made plans to meet at the courthouse at 3:30pm so we could file the 2nd and final set of papers.

I scrambled around my apartment grabbing all my documentation - original application, original separation agreement, original marriage certificate and anything else I thought I would need.

I was late for work, but I didn't care. I was flying high and nothing was going to pull me down! I sent out an email to everyone I know announcing the good news. I told my coworkers that I was leaving at 3pm to go get my divorce!! I felt like I had won the superball of all lotteries.

My DT was freaking out in a different way. She was terrified and crying and doubting everything. I told her it was going to be FINE. I would carry her on my back if I had to, to get her through these last steps.

I was the happiest girl in the world until 4pm, when much to my horror, I was told by the court that they would NOT process my application until on or after July 15th, as that date is the one year anniversary of my separation. And the law says I must be separated for a year. And the court must uphold the law.

Which begs me to ask, why did Ottawa clear my application?

WTF?!

If Ottawa says it's okay, then the court should also say it's okay! If my application was not compliant with the law, then Ottawa should not have cleared it, and put it on hold until such time that it becomes compliant with the law.

Now I know why people send bombs in the mail to the Government.

I have 16 more exruciating weeks until I can go back and have them process the application. I'm taking Tuesday July 15th off of work, going to the court at 8am, be first in line, get it done, and then head to the nearest pub. If any of you care to join me I'll be grateful for the company, and for y'all scraping me off the floor and making sure I get home in one piece.

Faux Beau No More

I fixed up my Faux Beau with a friend of mine. They hit it off and are now happily coupled.

So no more movie cuddle fests for me.

I guess I have to work on finding a real beau. Yeesh.

Just Because

Sometimes I need to be childish in expressing my anger towards Simon.

Ahhh. I feel better.

Get Your Own Wardrobe

A friend of mine told me that Simon has another new girlfriend. It's all over his Facebook page, but what else is new. Ppffftttt.

Both his and her profile have a picture of the two of them. The thing that strikes me about the pictures is that he's still wearing the same clothes that I bought for him when we were together. And he's still wearing the watch that I gave him for Christmas 2005.

As with most gifts, I put a lot of thought into them. And if it takes me weeks to find the perfect gift, then I will put in that time. And usually cost is not a deciding factor.

The watch I gave him was a special edition Fossil watch, made specifically for The Matrix movie in 1999. He loves The Matrix trilogy. I searched high and low for that watch. I eventually found it on Ebay, in Korea. I paid a pretty penny for that watch. I made sure it would be delivered in time for him to open it on Christmas morning.

He loved it (of course) and whenever someone would pay him a compliment on the watch, he'd be sure to let them know that his wife gave him the watch as a Christmas present. He got a LOT of compliments on that watch. It really is a freaking cool watch.

So I wonder what he says now? I wonder what he told his current girlfriend about the watch. I wonder what he tells new people about the watch. Imagine, he's at karaoke with his new gf, and the waitress notices the watch. "Here's your beer. Wow, that's a really great watch! Where did you get it?"

I would hope it would go something like this:

Idiot Boy: "Thanks. Yeah, it's a really nice watch."

Waitress: "So where did you get it?"

IB: "Um, my wife gave it to me."

W: (turning to new gf) "Oh wow, you must really love him."

GF: "I'm not his wife."

(awkward silence)

W: "Well, just let me know if you want anything else."

GF: "You should stop wearing that watch."

I can imagine the same scenarios with his clothes, because I got him some really awesome stuff. And I hope everytime he gets dressed in the morning, he looks in the mirror and he sees my face. And I hope he chokes on it. And I hope she chokes on it too when she's doing his laundry. Especially his underwear, cuz I bought them for him too.

Double Ppffffftttt.

Jordan

One of the loose ends I've been wanting to tie up is saying a proper goodbye to my stepdaughter Jordan.

I loved her as if she were my own. And she was very easy to love because she was just such an adorable and pleasant little girl.

So it broke my heart that I didn't get the chance to let her know even though things didn't work out between me and her father, I will always hold her in a special place in my heart.

The last time I saw Simon face to face was before Christmas (see post "Wreckage Part III"), and I had asked him what he had told Jordan about our separation. The answer of course, was nothing because Simon has no clue about reality, let alone child rearing.

I couldn't put my finger on why this has been bothering me so much, to the point where I was starting to obsess about it. A session with my therapist shed some much needed light on this subject. Did I mention how much I am loving therapy?

As I was explaining the situation to my therapist, I started to cry pretty hard about it. I don't think I've cried that hard in a session since just after having thrown Simon out. The last time I saw Jordan, I told her I'd see her again real soon. And then poof, I vanished and Simon did nothing to explain why.

I made the connection to my mother's death, and how I've had zero closure with that. The last time I saw my mother alive was probably about a week before she passed away. I remember crying really hard, not wanting to leave her. She hugged and kissed me and promised she'd see me again real soon. And then poof, she vanished. I wasn't allowed to go to the funeral (neither did my brothers). I never got to see her again to have a final goodbye.

I remember for years after her death thinking it was all a mistake. After all, she had promised she'd see me again real soon. And my mom would never lie to me.

I didn't want what happened to me to happen to Jordan. Obviously I'm not her mother. And obviously I'm not on her top 10 list of most important people. But she was a loving little girl who bonded to me very quickly and I just didn't want her to be confused.

My therapist asked me what it was I wanted to do to bring me some closure. I told her that I wanted to write to Gillian, Jordan's mother, and simply say that I would have liked to have said goodbye in person. Since the circumstances didn't allow for me to do that, I wanted Gillian to at least explain to Jordan that I am saying goodbye.

So with my therapist's blessing, I sent an email to Gillian. Here it is, with the response I received.

To: Gillian <*******@yahoo.com>
Date: Fri, Feb 22, 2008 at 5:21 PM
Subject: Loose Ends

Hi Gillian,

I'm not sure what Simon has told you, but he and I have been separated since July. I served him with divorce papers this past Monday. The whole thing should be finalized by the summer.

I wanted to let you know that I think of Jordan often. You have an amazing little girl who is so sweet and smart. You have done a fantastic job bringing her up.

I never got a chance to say goodbye to Jordan in person, and that has been a loose end I've wanted to tie up. So I thought I would just send you this email and if you feel it is appropriate, please let her know that she has and always will have a special place in my heart.

I wish you, Jordan, Jeff and your baby boy all the happiness in world.

From: Gillian <*******@yahoo.com>
Date: Fri, Feb 22, 2008 at 7:17 PM
Subject: RE: Loose Ends

Hi.

I did actually know you were separated. I'm sorry things didn't work out. Jordan was upset when she heard and she still talks about you a lot. Trust me, I know how special she is! :)

Thank you for saying I had anything to do with that; she's just a super special little thing. I definitely will tell her - actually I will show her this email so she will know. I can tell you in advance that she will be very happy to hear from you.

Thanks, and the best to you too. Onwards and upwards!

gillian

In the moment it took me to read her response, I experienced something which I have never experienced before - closure.

Closure is peaceful, kind, quiet and light. I am grateful for this gift that Gillian has given me.

08-FD-336102 - Part I

I am really glad that I had my Divorce Twin with me when I filed for divorce. It was a weird and unorganized building, with weird and unorganized people. I know the government has a bad rep for being totally ass-backwards, but for some reason I thought that was just a misconception perpetuated by people for whom the system did not smile down in their favour. I was wrong. The whole damn place was a disaster and it's no wonder why people constantly curse how our tax dollars are being spent.

We came off the elevator onto the 10th floor of 393 University Ave. There weren't any clear labels as to where we were. Just a big bulletin board with a ton of paper tacked to it. We looked to the right, and then to the left, and then down to our forms to make sure we got the right floor. Yup, 10th floor. We decided to go to the left.

A big mess of cubicles with a bunch of people meandering aimlessly was the scene we were met with. DT and I looked at each other and were both thinking the same thing - there is no way THIS is an official courthouse. We went back into the hallway to see if we had missed something, like a worm hole to get us out of there. No such luck.

We went back into the maze and saw a sign that said we were to get a number, with an arrow pointing to the left. So we look to the left. And all we see are more messy cubicles with more confused people wandering around. There was nothing indicating where we were to get a number.

I finally noticed a sign that said "Information" hanging over a desk that was placed haphazardly in the middle of the messy cubicles and wandering people. There were several stanchions around the desk, but they weren't placed in a manner which indicated where the line was to form. So we stood at the end of the stanchions, where we believed the line was to start. There was a man already at the desk speaking with the attendant. So we waited.

The attendant behind the desk waved us over. "How can I help you?" I say, "We're here to file for divorce." He looked up at the both of us, with a quizzical look on his face. DT piped up with, "Not from each other!" The lady behind us started laughing her head off.

He took a look at our forms and told us we would need to make copies, and gave us each a number. He pointed us in the direction of the copy room. It turns out that the government charges you FIFTY CENTS PER PAGE to use their shitty old photocopiers. If the stupid website had said anything about needing an extra copy, I would have just made it at work for FREE. Geez.

After spending $5 between the two of us, we went back into the crazy room and took a seat. It wasn't too long before my number came up and I made my way over to one of the messy cubicles.

The lady there looked like a pleasant woman. She said hello and asked me what I was there for. I said, "I'm filing for divorce." Now, I don't know what I was expecting her response to be, as I'm sure she deals with thousands of filings a year. But I was expecting something. I'm a young, nice looking girl. I would think a simple "Oh I'm sorry to hear that" would have sufficed. But she said nothing.

She took my papers and started typing, typing, typing. She had a fan turned on, it was set up just behind her monitor. My papers kept getting caught up in the breeze. Type, type, paper blowing, catch, type, type, paper blowing, catch, type, type. It was amusing at first. I wondered how long she would continue to just let the papers blow away. Then it got annoying. What should have taken her maybe 5 minutes had turned into 10 minutes because she had to stop every 10 seconds to keep my papers from flying away.

I wanted to scream "JUST ANGLE THE FUCKING FAN TWO MILLIMETERS TO THE LEFT" but instead, I looked around at the chaos behind the cubicles. One word sums it up - PAPER. Piles of paper everywhere. I'm sure to the untrained, non governmental eye it looks like a mess. But to those who have pledged their lives to making our legal system the fine bureaucratic machine it is, I was in fact looking at the most advanced filing system on the planet. Yeah right. After the lady finished playing blow and catch with my paperwork, she wrote a case number on it, signed it, stamped it, sealed it and asked me for payment. It cost me $167 (GST included!) for all that nonsense. She told me to go back to the information desk to be given instructions on what the next steps are.

File file file

So a few posts ago I had made the decision that I wasn't going to file for divorce. Well, I've changed my mind.

I kept reading that nasty little email Simon sent me for my birthday and the part where he said, "I'm still your husband so respect me" has raised more than a few alarm bells in my head.

I've dreamt about him every night this past week. In all of those dreams, he's come back to me and he's 100% normal. Also, I remember thinking to myself, thank goodness we got back together again and worked everything out.

I guess a small part of me still really hopes that someday he'll come knock on my door and tell me that he's changed, he's fixed it all, and he'll never abuse me again.

My DT is filing tomorrow and she's been encouraging me to do the same. When we talk on the phone, she'll randomly whisper "File, file, file" at the end of sentences. She's so hilarious - I thank my lucky stars I have a funny DT.

Today she called me to see if I could come with her to the court house tomorrow. (Of course) She slipped in another not-so-subliminal "File" message.

That, coupled with the stupid birthday email and crazy dreams, made me stop for a moment and really think about it again.

I was trying to get him to take responsibility for something in the marriage, hence leaving the divorce up to him. However the fact of the matter is, if he were the responsible type, we wouldn't be getting a divorce.

So folks, tomorrow is D-Day for me. Let the death of my marriage finally begin.

Done Over

My birthday party was a super duper SUCCESS!! Everything happened the way it should have happened 2 years ago.

I had 30 of my friends and family help me celebrate the end of a craptastic year, and the beginning of a bright and shiny new one.

Thank you to everyone who helped make this birthday a memory that will be treasured forever.

WTF

This speaks for itself. A small mark on an otherwise perfectly lovely birthday. My apologies (always) for the grammatical horrors.

From: Simon <***********@gmail.com>
Date: Feb 8, 2008 6:01 PM
Subject: happy birthday

even though you like to put me down and bash me behind my back,im still the bigger person.

please take [down] those disgusting comments of me even if its true or not..thats not right..(THE BOWLING NIGHT EVENT)

im still your husband so respect me...ppl have asked me what happened and i just said it didnt work out..do you want me to say to ppl that you were a prude or disfuctional in relationships and bossy, and maybe a person that likes to be center of attention, just because she had a bad childhood.

no i wouldnt do that..actually quite often i think about you like today so dont be a bitch.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY...AND STOP BEING NASTY OK!!!!

THATS HALF THE REASON WHY I LEFT YOU!!!!

SO NO MORE BASHING ME PLZ...be an adult you are a year older act it.

Rosie

This post has nothing to do with my marriage. However, it's exciting for me, so I thought I would share it with you all.

I am a devout Rosie O'Donnell fan. I have watched and read everything she has done. Including her now very famous blog at http://www.rosie.com/.

She has a feature called "Ask Ro", where you can submit one question daily. I of course have done this many times without any response. Usually someone else asks a similar question and gets answered, so I indirectly get an answer. Never my question, until TODAY! WHOO HOO. And a day before my birthday too. How cool is that?

Here's a picture of her blog's updated status:

Here's a picture I saw of Rosie today:

And here's the question and answer about this picture:

Here's the permalink: http://www.rosie.com/blog/2008/02/07/ask-ro/ My question is the 12th one down from the top.

YAY!!

Labels

I am an email pack rat. Usually I just leave them in my inbox. I hate deleting them because I have found that more often than not, I need to reference an email. Sometimes even up to a few years after I received it.

Gmail has a bunch of handy features, my favourite being labels. Instead of creating folders to file away your emails, you just apply a label to it and then a single click will archive it. So anytime you need to find something, you just click on a label and it will pull up all the emails you've tagged. With Gmail labels, they exist as links on the left hand menu of your webmail view. I never thought twice about them until I started dating Simon.

He had this wicked habit of looking over my shoulder whenever I would check my Gmail, to see what had come into my inbox since the last time he snooped. He would ask a million insane questions and we would get into horrible fights. I started making sure to quickly slap a label on any new emails and then immediately archive, thus getting messages out of my inbox.

Then Simon noticed my label menu. Of course, that lead to him asking what the labels are for and to see the emails associated with each label. So I found a feature that could hide those too. So when he would look over my shoulder he saw nothing, no labels on the menu and nothing in my inbox.

We got into many screaming matches about my Gmail. He was convinced that I was hiding things from him since my inbox was always cleaned out and he couldn't see the labels anymore. He wanted full access to my email accounts. I was, and always will be adament about the fact that just because I was married to him, it didn't mean I had to give up my privacy.

It's taken me until now to bring back the label links on the side menu. The reason being that I was waiting for a package from Linens'N'Things. The tracking info was in an email which I had labelled and archived. It was getting annoying having to type the label into the search function every time I wanted to track my package. On the 28th time doing this, I remembered that I could just have my labels showing.

So I've turned them back on. And for the last week or so, I freak out when I log into my Gmail. I keep thinking that any moment, Simon will come around the corner, see my labels and start screaming at me.

I still have a long way to go to shake off the shackles of panic.