Is it just me...?

Or has "kids' entertainment" gone too far?

If you have young, impressionable minds in your home, then please don't see:
"Faerie Tale Theatre"The Tale of the Frog Prince (1982) with Robin Williams. (IMDB didn't have a pic, sorry.)
**Three or four "damn"s.
**The frog calls the princess "bitchy."
**The frog asks to sleep with the princess, then gets flustered and makes many gestures,
saying "not THAT kind of sleep with you" which can make kids like mine turn around and
say "what does he mean, mommy?"
**The frog is checking out the princess as she gets undressed for bed, makes a comment about
her legs or something, and she calls him a "horny toad."
**And, last but not least, the site of a nearly (only a small red handkerchief covering the
genitals) naked Robin Williams. A scary site indeed for any adult movie, let alone a child's
faerie tale.

I mean, come on. I don't consider myself overly protective, but would any of YOU let your five and seven year old watch this???

Songs that take me back...

At a garage sale a month or so ago, before Brad moved out, he found a Violent Femmes cd and bought it. Blister in the Sun. Man, does that take me back to high school, to Speech Team. And that takes me back to Eric, who, with his pink (or was it orange) hair and outlandish clothes, told me once that I was "on the right track, but you still need to be more different." Wait, Eric. How are you any different than the popular crowd, whom you despise, when you are dressing and styling yourself just to be as different from "them" as you can be?

In "Walden II" the guy in charge of the Utopia is trying to make a point about free will to a couple of observers. He says to one, who is holding a cup, "I can make you keep holding that cup." Immediately, the man puts the cup down with a smug look on his face. And the leader says "Ah, but I just now MADE you put it down. Would you have put it down except to prove me wrong?" And the man is stuck, not knowing what to do, without giving control to the Untopian leader.

Which brings me to another person and another song. The person is John K. He was on speech team , also. And from the earliest I can remember, John was never influenced by what the popular crowd was doing, or what the unpopular crowd was not doing in order to be as different from the popular crowd as possible. He didn't give a damn about who they were or wanted him to be when it came to who he knew himself to be. In fact, he gave so little a damn that he wouldn't have wasted the breath to say he didn't give a damn. (Although....I am keeping the "Miami Vice" school picture in case I can blackmail him one day. Teal t-shirt, sparkling white blazer, oh yeah...) He was/is the truest person I know. And one of the songs that remind me of him is "Owner of a Lonely Heart" by Yes. I'm not sure why; I kinda think it might have been playing when we "danced" (that awkward sway thing) at a jr. high dance.

Kirsten, "The Way You Do the Things You Do" makes me think of you, prancing in the dorm hallway singing that song. If I can say this without sounding like a lesbian, you're one of the most adorable people I know!

How about you three or four out there? :) Comment, comment, comment! What songs bring you back?

Ah, the wonder of Electricity!

Thank you Amren UE! After 6 days, 13 hours, and 35 minutes, we now have our power back!

This was my first, HURDLE, if you will, all by myself without Brad. And I felt I failed. I didn't take care of myself and almost passed out last Friday, I had a meltdown right after that, and I couldn't handle getting all the stinky spoiled food out of my deep freeze and freezer/refridgerator by myself (I had to ask a friend for help.) Yeah, I know, it's not failing, but it feels like it.

My friend John warned me it was a roller coaster. I wish he meant the kiddie ones. Cause this is far worse than any roller coaster I've ever ridden. I'm not sure it's safe for passengers.

It sucks. But life with Brad and ALWAYS questioning whether what he was saying was a lie or not..., well, that sucked more. This hurts, it hurts so bad I wish I could cut out my heart, but at least there's no ANXIETY. No nervous wondering, wondering. And I'm sleeping better. So, there you go.

But it still sucks.

My God gives me strength...

through mysterious ways. 

Telling the kids

We told them we are separating tonight. For a while, at least, due to my medical problems (looking like a form of epilepsy that can be controlled with medicine) I NEED his group insurance, else it would become a "pre-existing condition." The kids were slain, and though I still love him and wish so much that it didn't have to come to this, for a few moments I hated him. Watching the tears stream down my childrens' faces and knowing that we, his family, were not important enough for him to fight his addiction, and to fight his lying, and seeing the result.... I hated him then.

My daughter asked if we still loved each other. While I was saying, yes I did still love Daddy, I heard nothing from his side. I offered to let him take some of the pictures crowding our fireplace mantle, he declined. Why did I let my image of myself become so wrapped up in him. At near the height of my weight (figure that one out...) I believed I not only was beautiful, but sexy, as well. All because my husband desired me, I believed that. I believed I was funny and worthy and a good person, all because my husband believed that. I didn't care if the whole world hated me and thought me ugly, as long as Brad loved me and wanted me, I was SPECIAL.

And then to find the mounting evidence of cheating. Of lying. Of his corrupted sense of morality. I crashed.

And now? Now I weigh less than I did going off to college, and men give me second glances, and try to flirt, and I couldn't care less because the ONE I wanted to love me doesn't. Or at least doesn't enough. Which amounts to the same thing.

See what I mean about unmeshing?

In the paper, there was a short article about the record 132 million taken in by "Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest". The article was titled "Shiver me timbers!" And I IMMEDIATELY thought of the Buffy episode where Anya (an ex vengeance demon who lacks human tact) tells Dawn (Buffy's fake but now real sister who was used by monks to hide the very energy of life) that Xander (One of the original scooby gang, wacky, sexy in a goofy way, and my fave, oh, and Anya's boyfriend) who is going as a pirate for halloween, is going to teach her a new game later called "Shiver Me Timbers." Dawn, being young and innocent, questions what that is and someone whisks her away to less sexual conversations. Later in the episode, Dawn gets her first kiss (ironically from a vampire, who is so into her that he wants to turn her) and she mumbles, "shiver me timbers." I SOOOOOOO wanted to save this little article, to show to Brad. He would get it. It's one of our things. How do you unmesh "Shiver me timbers?"

Goodbye nighties

I was in the store with Katie and Olie, and saw a great nightie. You know the kind, moms can wear them without fear of warping their kids, but daddies give them a wholehearted "Heh, how YOU doin?" It was black with an explosion of incredibly rich, colorful flowers, spaghetti strap, just a couple inches above the knee. And I thought "Brad would love me in this," and then remembered.

How do you unmesh lives? I read a description once, of different ways of starting dreadlocks. NO matter how they were started, there was only one way of getting rid of them: cut them off, leaving one with an inch or so of hair.

I feel like that. It's not simply a matter of who gets what, when, or where. It's losing the person that loves to watch "Buffy: The Musical" yet again with you. Losing the one person who would go crazy for the cheap Aldi's con queso I'm eating right now cause it's so similiar to the con queso at the wonderful, but in a bad part of town, Mexican restaurant we go to when we're feeling dangerous. Losing the guy that can quote "The Fugitive" anytime, anywhere. Probably in two other languages, as well. Losing the man who lets me put my feet inbetween his calves when I'm cold.

It sucks. Big time.

Happy Independence Day!

Katie's and my "Tootsie Tradition."

I'm gonna be ok

Still don't know the cause of the myoclonus, but it's liveable. And I can make it without my husband. Right? RIGHT?

Short and sooooo not sweet

I'm filing for divorce. After almost twelve years of his lies and sex addiction, I've come to a large brick wall with only one door in it: OUT. I know now that there is nothing I can do to make him get help for his addiction. And there is certainly nothing I can do to make him tell the truth to me, his accountability partners, or his therapist. I mean, if you're lying to your therapist, do you really WANT to get better?

For those of you who want to jump in and say "But there's got to be SOMETHING we (and you really mean ME don't you?) can do!" - we've tried it. Intensive one-on-one eight hours a day for three days counseling. SA groups. Accountability groups. Therapy. Therapy number two. Partial hospitilazation for six hours a day, five days a week, for near six weeks. No truth for me, no sex for you. Sleep on the couch. In the basement. Separated. Three different times.

For those of you mentioned above, get this: HE, and only he, can make the decision to really get help and fight for his family. And time and time again, he has not.

You want to say I have no biblical reason for divorce: I do. A she and a he. Besides all the TEEN PORN, there was flesh with flesh with a she and a he.

I need support, not guilt. I'm over my co-dependency, now get over yours! I can do nothing, you can do nothing, your husband can do nothing, the ministers can do nothing; NOBODY BUT BRAD CAN DECIDE WHAT IS WORTH FIGHTING FOR. And, now it's too late.

I'm not saying God can't work a miracle and send me an angel with a sparkling post it note saying "You are now authorized to trust your ex-husband." But otherwise, it's over period. Because he's a GOOOOOOD liar. He makes up details, little things like "He knew where Homer was and even worked at the pizza place there!" He's completely believable, until I start praying "God, show me what I need to know" and then God makes him stupid, and he leaves evidence out in plain site. In a way, it's funny, the look on his face clearly saying "How could I have left that out????" and I know: God made you stupid. It was time for me to know. My God took care of me. Anyway, the only way to begin to trust someone with those kinds of lying powers is to begin to enmesh my life with his, and the only way I'll do that is through marriage, and the only way I'd marry him again is to know he's trustworthy, and the only way to trust him is to begin to enmesh...well, you get the idea. It's over.

I will miss my best friend. But I don't even know if who I think is my best friend is real.

I need support, not condemnation. I've been thinking about this and talking it over with a counselor for over a year. Waiting. For the lie I knew, I KNEW would come. Again. So don't say "think about this." I have. Don't say "God forgives you, shouldn't you..." God let's us suffer our consequences, ESPECIALLY when there is no REPENTANCE. It's not about forgiveness. It's about trust. I will miss who I thought was my best friend. People, I'm losing my best friend, my lover, my husband. Please don't have me lose you too.

-Ali