Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Isn't this my vacation too?

My Dearest Hubs,

I know our upcoming trip back to New Orleans for a visit is exciting for you. It's exciting for me too. Yes, I realize you grew up there, while I only lived there a few years. Yes, I realize your grammar school/high school/college friends/former coworkers/neighborhood grocery store check out lady/dry cleaner/pharmacist/baseball coach/and your 3rd grade math teacher are all eager to see you, but notsomuch me (since you never bothered to introduce me to them when we lived there for years...together). You see, when you tell me we're going to need to make time for all these important people, it makes me... completely... INSANE.

But guess what? This is my vacation too. If I want to take 1 measly hour out of a 5 day trip to go get a pedicure from my most favorite place in the world, guess what? I will. And if I want to "waste" an hour or two or hell, even three, shopping, guess what? I will. And if I need to go have a drink with a girlfriend (mainly to bitch about you), I fucking WILL.

Stop trying to write a damn itinerary in fucking stone. Please?

-Your loving and adoring wife



Saturday, March 27, 2010

Man Cold

My husband has a man cold.

Which apparently is short for "Ebola".

Help me.

Friday, March 26, 2010

Son of a Bitch

Why is it that after a huge fight, you can just fall asleep with no problem? Seriously. You just treated me like complete shit and now you are sleeping like a baby. Truthfully, I did nothing to deserve this treatment (and I'm not just saying that). You're mad at someone else and you're taking it out on me. You lashed out at me, said some very mean things, and went to fucking bed. And now, I am left to lie awake and be alternately furious and sad through no real doing of my own. Sometimes you can be a real son of a bitch, ya know that?

Thursday, March 25, 2010

IP address much?

If you have been growing "in a different direction" for so long now that you don't want to be friends anymore, then why do you still read my blog?

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

So, I understand we both aren't going to be in the mood at the same time. I also know that you moving 1,000 miles away to be closer to home, work, and school are all great and I can't wait until I finish my B.A. in May to join you. HOWEVER, I'm not asking you to really be turned on and hard. Hell I'm not even asking for phone sex. Sexting is all. 13 years olds can do it, you can to, when you really want. I know this because you do it when you want some and we can't talk and be together. So, how about ya fake it? I do it all the time. When I tell you I'm wearing lacy panties and tank? Yeah, it's actually your sweats and a tshirt. I promise, next week when I come visit I will make it worth your while. Thanks babe!

Monday, March 22, 2010

Dear Evil Stepfather:

We sure have had our differences, haven't we? I know it was unforgivable of me to hate you all those years you beat the holy shit out of my mother, all the times we ate ketchup sandwiches because you drank up all the grocery money. All the times we kids went to school with no lunch (or breakfast), and those winters we frequently had no jackets. We went 4 years without hot water because you refused to pay the bill. We went that long without having TV to watch either—although it didn't stop you from waking us up in the middle of the night (on a school night), and making us sit on the couch, where we could neither speak, move nor look at anything until you got tired of the game and passed out. That was your favorite game, wasn't it?

Then I got old enough for college; college that you refused to help ME pay for, although you paid both my older sister's way through college (even though they were both married), and my younger brothers too—because your business was making so much money. I never said anything when you bought my baby brother a brand-new Corvette as his first car, when I was given a '78 Granada. I simply moved out and got married. Then came the "keep Kim away from her mother" game which continued until I finally said fuck it and just quit having anything to do with the whole lot of you.

After you started coughing up blood I was so happy! I just knew you'd die soon and I could have my family back---but no dice. You just stopped drinking and smoking, extending your miserable life 20 more years. But you know what, all these things were NOTHING---compared to what you did to me and my son in 2005; see, we were living in Biloxi---less than 3 miles from the water in 2005. We went to stay at a friend's house not far away and that's the only reason we survived Katrina; when we finally were able to check on our mobile home (which the battered women's shelter we were staying in found for us), it was gone. So we came home to Mama, thinking surely it was ok to stay there a couple weeks til we could find somewhere else to live. But YOU told my mother we'd have to leave. You didn't care that we had just lost everything. That was the last straw. We left and I never saw you again because 5 months later the cancer that you'd been refusing to see a doctor about finally killed you. Understandably to me, I chose not to attend your funeral, as I would not have been able to resist my urge to dance in the aisle, laugh out loud, and spit on your worthless carcass. But apparently it wasn't understandable to the rest of my family because they ALL disowned me and my son. So even though you're dead you cost me my whole fucking family. I hope it was worth it to you.

Signed,

Kim, the red-headed stepchild

Sunday, March 21, 2010

i had an affair. I got caught.
i really miss him.

Saturday, March 20, 2010

Attention Author of this email

We never received your whine (unless this is it, and that would be weird.)

Hopefully you still have a copy and can resend it! We post all whines, regardless of length!!


Hi:
I know you guys don't really like long whines like this, but it was SO cathartic to me just to write it. I'll understand if you don't post it, but I hope you do. Maybe there are others who are going/have gone through this.
Thank you,

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

My wedding is October 2. I am trying to keep it low key so that my sister doesn’t find out. I want my wedding to be about us – not her.

Girl walks into the ladies room...

Of a fancy restaurant. Checks her lipstick in the mirror and decides on a touch-up.

There’s no counter space, so she puts her purse in the sink and roots around for her lip gloss. The sink, unfortunately, is motion activated. And there are no paper towels, only hand dryers.

Upon return to the table, husband looks at her dripping purse and says, “Couldn’t hold it?”

Monday, March 15, 2010

Please, Make This About You.

I appreciate that you are under stress. And you have apparently been under stress for the last 5 years, making my life more than miserable. But did it ever occur to you that maybe now that I no longer live under your roof, calling to tell me about your stress when you know damn well there is nothing I can do about it but worry might add to my own stress load? I'm trying to make it in nursing school. I'm trying to make my marriage work and keep it healthy. I'm trying to come up with enough money to cover all the bills at the end of the month. I'm trying to get our new house in order and keep it clean (which is nearly impossible when you have a 21-year-old living with you who can hardly brush his own teeth, let alone wash his own dishes... even WHEN asked directly to do so. But that's another story for another day). And I'm trying to keep this baby in until his appropriated due date. So please, let me manage my own stress. And, though it may be completely unthinkable to you, keep your own shit to yourself. I've been your rock for too long and now it's time for me to be my own rock. That may sound selfish, but I have to do what's best for me, my baby, and my family.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

really?

how can you be married to someone for as long as I have and then discover you might not have really known them as well as you thought you did in the beginning?
enough said about that.

Girl walks in to a grocery store....

Spends an hour walking down every aisle to make sure she doesn’t forget anything. She actually scores a BOGO on her favorite moisturizer, finds the Zino water she loves that is usually out of stock, and gets the biggest bag of dog food even though it’s a bitch to get in the cart.

Bartender says, “Where’s your wallet?”

Girl replies, “Fuck.”