The Email That I Don't Want

Hello Athena,


I just wanted to say hello and check to see how you were doing. I have a new phone number xxx-xxx-xxxx, if you ever want to get in touch with me. I was just thinking about you today and wanted to say hello.

Talk to you soon,

Jack
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For those of you playing along at home, Jack was a guy I dated a few years ago. He and I met thru a dating site, where he proclaimed to be divorced for three years, single now, no kids.

I later found out that: 1) he wasn't divorced, had never been divorced; 2) was, in fact, married to a very nice woman and 3) wasn't apparently planning on divorcing, just liked to cheat.  Oh, and his wife said they'd had a number of problems in their 12 (!) year marriage but she always hoped he'd change.

Oh Sister, Love May Be Blind, but You've Gouged Out Your EYES.

Since that time, I've not been in contact with him.  I have received a few emails from him (like the one above, received at my work email account last night), but have steadfastly ignored him. 

I will continue to do so.

'Talk to you soon' -- how's never, Jack?  Never good for you?  Good for me.

Some days you are the windshield,

some days you are the bug.

How appropos.

I've been driving a fair bit lately and, well, it is love bug season here in Florida.  What does that mean, you ask?  My windshield looks like a teenager's face -- and so does my car.

So I take the car to a carwash here.  It has been recommended numerous times to me as the best around.  Hell, they *won* best-of awards.

My car is dirty.  Covered in a whole lot of dead love-bugs.   I pull up, pay my $20 (oh yeah, $20, which is why the following FRIED MY ASS), and let them do what they do.

Car wash*
interior vacuum
windows cleaned*
underbody clean
tire shine
hot wax
hand dried

I don't like paying $20 but that is the going rate here for a decent place with all of the above.  I take myself inside, pay the cashier and wait for my car to pull out. 

The car is dried, I tip the guys and off I go, across the street from the carwash to a furniture store.  When I get out of my car I discover two things:

1.  There are still splotches of dead bugs all over the front of my car
2.  There is still bird "do" on my passenger rear window.

Now I am STONE COLD pissed off.  I mean, dude, seriously.  First, $20 and second, it is hand dried meaning you would think someone, anyone, that does that notices that my car still has bugs on it and bird crap. 

I return to the car wash.

You'd think that in these times of economic crisis and a $20 car wash easily being a luxury item, I would hear apology.  I would hear "I'm sorry, let us run this through the car wash again for you, I'm sorry for your inconvenience."

Nope.  Nada. 

What did I hear?

"These bugs stains can etch the paint and it is likely we won't be able to get them off" and "Oh, yeah, I guess we could have gotten that off your window"

First, let's be real.  It's not that my car was any freaking cleaner when I first pulled up.  It had the same bugs on it.  Could I not hear that love bug "juice" is hard to get off a car when I pull up? 

Second, I don't want nonsense when it is clear you didn't do your job.  The bird shit?  I mean, really.

So, Bonita Bubbles, you've lost a customer.  I won't be back.  And I will tell everyone I know that you don't have one iota of customer service no matter how freaking expensive your carwash may be.

Thoughts on life, marriage and other bullshit.

I've been reading (and just finished) Elizabeth Gilbert's newest book, Committed.  She's been an author for awhile, but her best known book to date is Eat, Pray, Love which will shortly come out as a movie starring Julia Roberts.

My Sister picked this up at Half-Price Books in Indy (sigh, I miss HPB).  She read it, told me about it and told me that I would like it.  She sent it to me a few weeks ago in the mail and I've just gotten around to finishing it.

I generally read pretty fast -- but this one, I wanted to absorb.  In Eat, Pray, Love, she spoke of her marriage that had ended and how those emotional ties/physical longing were affecting her health and sense of self.  I related -- and not just kinda -- to those feelings.

It will be ten years this fall since Hex and I met.  I think about him more here than I ever did after we split in Indy -- and perhaps the best and only reason is that I feel less constrained, concerned and convinced that I will see him at every turn when he is 1200 miles away.  It isn't that I think we couldn't be friends, in fact, that is what we were from the start ... and then it was more.  I just know in my heart of hearts that Hex would always want more (all of his emails since the divorce [and they are numerous] have all said the same thing) and I, after finishing more than a year and some months of counseling both inside and outside of the marriage, am loathe to offer even meeting for coffee at this point.  So perhaps friends is too strong of a term and acquaintances is too distant.   I only know that I wish him happiness and hope he wishes the same for me. 

In Committed, she discusses her study of marriage in the Western tradition and how it has evolved from a civil contract to a religious contract and now a odd combination of the two in American culture.  As I see marriage as much more a civil event (taxes, inheritance and children's well-being all lead to that conclusion) than a religious one, I enjoyed her discussion.  The book, overall, was a good read.  For the married, to the want-to-be-married, to the never married, and the never-want-to-be-married-again, it offers a view of marriage through the eyes of a woman that had been married, did not want to be married again and who eventually, through circumstances surrounding her love for a man from Brazil, needed to be married again in order for both of them to reside in the U.S.

**********
A conversation that Scully and I had a few weeks ago still rings in my head.  She asked me if I was still thinking about having children at some point.  Yes, I told her, I'd love to have kids.  Things aren't in line for that now and I don't want to go it alone.  Being raised by a single mom (both prior to and after the divorce, thanks to Dad's alcoholism) definitely colored my perception of raising children alone, as I see how she struggled to make sure we had what we needed.  Also, having been married before, and a stepmom to one, I got a taste of parenthood.   Reminds me of a childhood rhyme Mom used to repeat to me: " ... when (it) was good (it) was very very good and when (it) was bad (it) was horrid." 

Then there are the times I spend with Mary and her four stepkids, all of whom are great.  I feel that ache, that twinge of wanting to be a part of a child's life each and every time I'm with them.   I am reminded when I see Mary and Lee together, making a life for all six of them, that it CAN work, it CAN be done, even with a crazy-ass ex-wife in the mix.  That brings me peace.

I know my own fears about marriage are rooted in my non-relationship with my Dad for most of my first 25 years.  Those "in the know" are aware that my Dad was an alcoholic until nearly my 26th birthday.  It was shortly before then that he dried out and hasn't had a drink since.  While I hate the term "alcoholic" to describe him now, I use the term "non-practicing alcoholic" to describe it best.  I know those years of not having a Dad in the truest sense of the word affected me more than I will probably ever comprehend.  I sought father figures in others, and one of those was my Uncle Wayne.  When he passed nearly 7 years ago, I was devastated.  This was the Dad I had when my own Dad would not be one.  When I think back to his generosity, kindness and loving nature, I know why I've allowed myself to trust men. 

There was something that struck me a few weeks ago.  I met someone that has a couple of kids.  He's a single dad of sorts, getting a divorce.  His youngest child is a daughter.  When I met him, his toes were painted pink.  His daughter wanted to play beauty shop and he let her paint his toes. 

I was then, and I am now, jealous of the relationship she will have with her Dad. 

I know that sounds ridiculous. I know it is just plain silly.  I know all of these things.  But what I also know is that this girl will have a nuanced and confident approach to men because of the kindness shown to her by her Dad.  This was the kind of relationship I wish *I'd* have had with my Dad. 

What would have happened if I would have actually had a relationship with my Dad for all of these 36 almost 37 years?  Would I be who I am today?  Would I be as hesitant of love?  Would I freak out over commitment for fear it would end? 

Like I said -- thoughts on life, marriage and other bullshit.

Potluck of the Damned.

as in, damned if you do, damned if you don't.

This Friday is a potluck/pitch-in at work.  Various people are bringing various things.  I volunteered to pick up all the paper products as well as beverages, then collect money from the directors for the purchase of such.  Seems reasonable, yes?

Oh Fucking No It Is Not.

There is an administrative assistant that is riding my ass as if I have been saddled.   Every day, a stop by, an email or a phone call (or a combination of the three) on my progress.  Apparently I am her personal bitch.  I have taken to saying that I'm gonna call (administrative assistant) on so and so unless this is done, because clearly in the reporting structure, it is my job to call her with an update.

I may go batshit.

Mary is, of course, enjoying the living hell out of this.  She loves to torture me.   The initial plan was a potluck.  Somehow it has now morphed into a (gag me) Valentine's theme.  So now Mary emails me every few hours to tell me it is now a costume party, no, a luau, etc etc. 

She better be nice or I'm sic'ing the administrative assistant on her. 

T A C K Y tacky tacky tacky

This should be sung to the tune of M I C K E Y M O U S E.

I've not blogged about this in the past, as it has not bothered me so much as it did today. Here we go, Athena's Rant O' The Week.

An ex of mine, with whom I'd remained friends, lives in Georgia. (Yes, FN, keep your voice down, I hear the 'I Told You So' from here). We dated a few months then were friends from then on. Over ten years now, to be exact.

Last fall he told me he was getting married. I wished him sincere congratulations and he mentioned that I'd get an invitation when the time came. Okay.

In April, after not having heard from him in several months, I called him on his bday (a normal occurance for us to wish birthday greetings) and left him a voicemail wishing him a happy bday and to let me know where to send a wedding gift. Again, no invitation, no return call, no email. Nada.

Today I get an email from him (I am on a distribution list) with pictures from his wedding. Apparently it happened in June. WTF?

T A C K Y tacky tacky tacky.

Poll Topic Update

Thank you to all of you for your overwhelming support. I wanted to let you know what I did.

I did contact his wife via email, using an anonymous email address I set up through Yahoo. My first and only question was if she was married to X of X? My comment after that was that I had something to tell her.

She replied that yes she was and who was I?

And her follow up email was this: "If your cell phone number is X and you live near X, I think I know what this is about."

I replied that if she did know about it, what she did not know was that I was sorry. I explained to her that I did not know he was married and would *not* have dated him if I had known that. I then told her she was welcome to ask any questions she may have and in the next few emails she did.

What I found out was that: they have been married 12(!) years and he had done this before. She had been suspecting it, had confronted him, received denials and they separated for a while. The even more shocking part was that she had previously forgiven him and that she remained committed to their marriage. WTF?

As a sidebar, if I were married and my husband cheated on me, I would not only be calling a locksmith but setting his things onto the driveway. But that is me. She is apparently a more forgiving human being.

She asked me a few more things and I answered her honestly. She seemed surprised at my last contact with him, as she had been under the impression it was well before that date.

I don't imagine I'll hear from her again, nor him for that matter. What a ridiculous mess.

Time to ratchet up the defense shields, commander

Most of my loyal friends and readers know what I am cranky about. Yes, a suspicion was confirmed yesterday and today. There will be no comment on it.

I will post a poll to determine my course of action. Feel free to vote and give me your opinion.

Thanks.

Rant 2.

Before you all think that I've become a screaming, raging beotch of mythic proportions this week, please note that I've been having a pretty good week. Generally caught up on sleep, happy with my life, enjoying the start of spring, hanging out with friends/family, etc. But there are some things which must be said and require a rant.

Wasting my time.

There is nothing quite like wasting my time to make me intensely, emotionally angry. I, like all of you, have a limited amount of time in this world. I can 'make' no more, much like I can 'make' more money, more friends, more plans, etc.

To quote a Van Halen song: "you can spend my money but don't you waste my time. It's my time, my time."

How I choose to spend my time is wisely. I hang out with friends, read, go to the gym, relax, etc. How I choose *not* to spend my time is waiting on someone to show up who doesn't respect my time.

The only good news of the evening was that I spent a lovely dinner and walk with Bev, got to pet a totally cute dog, and finally, finally, caught up to my Indianapolis Star reading. I've been 1-2 days behind all week.

As for the person that wasted my time:

No more. Nada. Not one frickin' minute. Done. Begone!