Thanks to Jrae, CCW, Pregnant Amy, and fuck me running... Jazzy!!! How you been?? It's humbling that anyone out there in cyber-land gives a flying fuck about my life, especially when I'm not sure that I give a fuck!

JRae, I've never forgotten about your promise to loan me a couch if I ever visit your city. I haven't had the chance yet, but when I do? It'll be nice to have a friendly face, and a soft spot to lay at the day's end.

Now back to my story, set in the present tense.

The eggs were cleaned up the next morning. Aside from a cereal box, the whole kitchen was tidy the next morning. Hubby took the 9-yr-old to his football game. I didn't go. Not ready to hang with the in-laws at this point. Hubby's told them nothing, and I talk too fucking much... best to side-step the whole land-mine, lest I say something that cannot be retracted.

He took the boys for the night. He offered and I said "Yes... yes that would be fine." Wishing like hell that I had something interesting to do! I instead chose to descend upon my teen aged daughter and her friends. They endured me, bless their hearts. Her friends are nice... we played charades, a board game, and some Wii Fit.

My daughter's best friend had her boyfriend come over. I cock-blocked as long as I could, but I finally excused myself so they could have unsupervised sex in my basement. I don't KNOW that's what they did after I left, so let's pretend that they read books and talked about their feelings! It was late.

And now I'm focused on the whole teenager thing. I have forbidden my daughter from getting the HPV vaccination or getting on the pill because I was afraid she'd feel a false sense of security and be less diligent about condom use. My daughter swears she hasn't gone "all the way" but I'm not so uptight to realize that she could be lying just to ease my mind.

All the women in my family have been early bloomers. We're boot-knocking, mattress-shaking, head-board banging chicks. It's all good.

I told my daughter this morning that she's getting the vaccination. I was honest... I told her my prior decision was fear-based and erroneous. She maintained it wasn't necessary, and I didn't pry. I just don't think she should lose her ability to start a family if a condom fails and she becomes infected with a silent, preventable, cancer-causing virus.

I stand firm on "the pill" though. Birth control drugs carry too much risk and I don't advocate monkey-ing with hormones. I know a girl (it only takes one) who suffered a life-threatening blood clot in her spinal column that was attributed to years of birth control pills. She saw three doctors before someone took her complaints seriously. She didn't smoke, but she couldn't breathe... and she was under 35 years old. Her tubes are tied now and she's on blood-thinners... at 37! The docs tied her tubes because the medications she requires would guarantee a high-risk pregnancy with a small chance of viability.

Why am I still typing?

The One Week Mark

A week since the conversation... Saturday marks a week since he stole my duffle bag. Today was a visit, at least that's what he told me.

He came over about nine, said hello to the kids and then came upstairs to say hello to me. I felt like there was a stranger in MY bedroom. He said he wanted to visit the kids but didn't want me to feel ignored... it's was after 9pm when he arrived - by all means go talk to the kids! I said it dryly, without the exclamation point.

I went downstairs a few minutes later for a snack, and he was eating and making a mess. A half hour later he was sprawled on the couch and watching a movie. A hour after that he'd pulled the papasan chair mattress onto the floor and was laying on that.

At midnight, I was fed up, and went down to tell my son (who's 9) to brush his teeth and go to bed. "Sorry, it was my fault," offers hubby. I didn't respond. I don't mean to be cold... but I have nothing nice to say.

He came up with my son, ushered him toward his toothbrush.. and then came back into my room. He asked if he could sit down, and I asked him what his intentions were. "What do you mean?"

Well, here's what I fucking mean. I felt duped. A visit was not supposed to be an overnight stay. I don't want to see him in the morning. I don't want him here in the morning. I don't want to screw with the kids' heads and send mixed messages, and right now, the future ain't looking so bright.

He sat down to watch TV, which suddenly became less pleasurable for me. He fell asleep sitting up. Then he awoke and went downstairs... he did not turn off lights and check to make sure the doors were locked. My kids are more tuned in than he is.

Here's the thing... and feel FREE to tell me if I'm being too demanding.

When we split it was because he's a man of inaction - that was my main source of contention. I may do things that piss him of, too... but I'd never know it because he hasn't initiated a meaningful conversation since we've met. He even blew his proposal by handing me the closed box the day after my abortion (OUR abortion) saying, "you look sad today, maybe this will help."

When I asked him to move out and I told the ball was in his court. I was sick of feeling like this marriage is MY job. I've been solely responsible for it for 12 years... that's a lot of sit-down convos and bitten tongues. I made it clear that if he wanted to make it work, then he was going to have to figure it out without training wheels. He needed to put his distractions on a shelf and prove that he wants to make this work. Whatever it takes! I'll go to counseling, but I'm NOT making the fucking call. He has the non-negotiable schedule, he can make the call.

Furthermore, I told him that TIME, in and of itself, will not heal this. He can't just go away and then come back like nothing has changed... but that's exactly how he behaved tonight.

The biggest thing though... is that I just didn't feel it for him at all tonight. No part of my heart felt the pang of having missed his presence. I didn't find him attractive, helpful, or interesting. I was annoyed that he still seems so self-absorbed and clueless... and a little resentful that he felt free to leave my eggs out on the counter after whipping up a sandwich for himself.

He paid for the eggs. Every ounce of food in this house is his, actually. And I'm sure he just feels awkward and doesn't know what to say to me. I'm sure my demeanor is less than welcoming. But FUCK, man... I can't fake it. I don't mean to be a brick wall, but I can feign excitement, like "whoo-hoo - I'm so glad you're here!" That's why I stayed in my room... so he could hang with this kids and not have to see the indifference on my face. I don't want to hurt his feelings.

I think though, after tonight, that I need to tell him to cancel our anniversary reservations for next weekend. I'd rather spend the weekend raking leaves.

I'm scared to close this door, and I don't want to hurt his feelings... but I don't want to give false hope either. But I'm highly skeptical that I'm going to feel differently a week from now.

Ugh. Nothing about this is going to be easy. The kids haven't missed him yet, but they will if we call it quits for good.

Anyone? Bueller?

Slow Progress

Okay, I'm not making the progress I thought I would. Hubby is coming over tomorrow night after work, and I don't think either of us has done anything more substantial than "think" about shit. Yeah, that isn't going to bridge the gap! We ned to do some individual work if we ever want to be "good" together again.

One of my goals is to get out of this fucking house. My past job titles have been Administrative Assistant, Project Coordinator, Office Manager, etc. Payroll, scheduling, hiring, training... nothing too fancy, but I always good at my jobs. Very efficient.

But all my experience is a decade old. There are a million girls who can do what I can do. And they probably have more education. The companies I worked for don't even exist anymore. One of my references died of pancreatic cancer, and I can't locate the other one. As someone who used to hire people, I wouldn't hire me... because there's no verifiable evidence that a single word of my resume is true!

Good credit and a clean background is about all I have going for me right now, and that may change if I start turning tricks on Craigslist! Anyone need a kinky housewife with a penchant for inappropriate swearing? Didn't think so.

If I have to go back to school, a real estate license is the goal. Nothing makes me happier than negotiating houses. My mother says I'm crazy... given the current housing market. Her words might be just what I need. I perform very well when I'm underestimated.

If anyone else has a better idea, I'm all fucking ears.

Trial Run

Well, he moved out today, my husband that is. With tears in his eyes, he said he thinks he knows what he needs to work on and is hopeful that we'll reunite sooner rather than later. He hugged me and he left.

I'm also optimistic, but I can't let Hope prevent me from developing Plans B & C that might become necessary.

It was certainly sad, but I'm surprised at how quickly that feeling faded. I'm not sure why yet. Is it because I think he'll come back? Or because this is what I really want?

I lost my passion for the stay-at-home mom gig a long time ago. It's possible that I created this drama just to force myself into taking stock of my skills and and desires and deciding what I want to do with my life professionally. Not to say that my complaints about my husband aren't perfectly valid, but my timing for such a strong move might have more to do with me than "us." Because, in actuality, I could have endured our state of affairs indefinitely. I can take a lot and I'm forgiving by nature, but not completely. While I have a great capacity to forgive, I'm terrible about bringing shit back up when it serves my argument or the point I'm trying to make. That's something that I'll be working on during this marital hiatus. I don't dredge up the past to be hurtful, but patterns can't be ignored.

So, tonight I'm going to get drunk, and watch Saturday Night Live. My own little party. Tomorrow, I'm putting every tv in the garage, something I suggested we do at the beginning of last summer. My husband was not on-board, even after I explained that we ALL use television as a distraction. Well, I guess that's what everyone uses them for, but we'd become a little too sucked in - and we don't even have CABLE! Just hundreds of movies, which I think do an even better job of creating illusions that make real life suck in comparison to the barrage of dynamic characters and happy endings.

The TVs are gone... and I can't wait. I'll just hate the heavy lifting part. Beyond that, I'll probably just be making a lot of brain-storming lists, to do lists, etc. Oh, and I'll be on the phone a LOT because this is going to be surprising news and everyone I know is going to want to counsel me. I'd rather blog to be honest. I don't think anyone can tell me something I haven't thought about at this point. But, since my mother happened to call tonight, I can expect some phone calls from others.

But know this. I'm not unhappy and I'm not scared. I can't speak for my husband, but the changes that I'm going to make can only benefit me and my state of mind, with or without him.

Back in the Game

Fuck it! I've had a couple of blogs and have given them all up for various reasons - but those reasons can all be boiled down to one thing: my husband. Lately, I've been questioning whether he has a role in my future, and that's a tough pill to swallow.

I'm 36 with three children who will miss him if we part ways. It isn't a light decision. It's nauseating. But I'm not sure how much I can endure for the sake of our illusion. Do I live without sex or fool around on the side (the sex thing is my fault... he disgusts me and I can't fuck him unless I'm drunk). I gave up on the term Making Love a long time ago. He has a porn habit and the things he looks at gross me out. Girls with cum dripping off their faces? Sorry, it creeps me out.

Now I feel like I should qualify that. I'm not some uptight person. Honestly. I've never felt (nor been accused of being) uptight. I've sucked a hundred dicks and I never was sloppy enough to get my eyelashes glued to my eyebrow. Now that I'm 36, my drive has accelerated. I can't discuss the things I dream about because it would be exhaustive. Every guy I see plays a starring role in my unbridled and subconscious nightly cinematic features, except my husband.

He's the ticket-taker.

Getting divorced terrifies and excites me. I've been a stay at home mom for over a decade. I began looking for jobs back in January - not so I could leave my husband, but for health insurance. No luck. I'm only qualified to type, organize shit, and fire people. And I'm notoriously late. Not by much... five, ten minutes tops. I am good though, but that's a hard sell when you've been volunteering for the PTA for ten years. Starting my own business makes much more sense than trying to conform to rules that have never appealed to me.

Maybe I should invent an alarm clock that gets even louder and more annoying when you press the snooze button. If you get out of bed on the first warning, you can shower to Moonshadow... but if you press snooze, you get Rush Limbaugh.... press it again and it's Glenn Beck... press it again and it's Jerry Springer - which is just a series of bleeps, much like how an alarm clock is supposed to sound in the first place.

I have much to think about. Thanks for listening.

Peace,

That Girl

My Intro

My name is Prudence and I'm at war with the world. Actually, I'm at war with myself and I take it out on the world. I know who I am, but my style is constantly cramped by others' expectations.

I have one husband and three children. They are dear to me. I'm shocked that I've raised such nice children.

My mother is a religious nut who wants to convert me. My dad... well, he's a fun guy. He'll give up whiskey for lent, and drink vodka instead. It's a difficult dichotomy. Did I spell that right? My sister is great. She's my best friend, but I keep certain things secret even from her because, well, it's wise to do so.

I struggle. I'm a lifelong party girl, and then I did an about-face without properly warning people. Suddenly, I find myself missing that lifestyle. Peer-pressure is nothing compared to the pressure I feel within. I struggle to define muyself.

I like yoga, and I like to drink. I want to get involved in my community, but everyone pisses me off. The PTA is like Lord of the Flies for grown-ups. I hate tattoos but I flaunt my burn scars (I caught on fire.... I'll tell that story another day). I love pot, but I can't smoke it anymore... pot got too good and it turns out I'm prone to paranoia, which isn't fun no matter how stoned you are. I'm monogamous but I'm turned on by the oddest people.

I have a host of impulses that I may not enjoy because I'm being watched. It pisses me off because I know I'm not that different from my neighbors... I'm punished for my honesty.

I'm not punished, but I would be if they ever found out.

I used to have perfect days. As our income increased, and our houses got bigger, I've felt like a bigger liar. Suburbia rubs me the wrong way. I could handle living in the inner-city, or out the sticks... but suburbia is a brainless, hypnotic paradise filled with secrets and tiny trees.

The perfect day was taking my daughter to the park. We'd climb over rocks, cross a creek, and head toward this big flat rock that made a perfect stage. Upon the stage, we'd enact the story of Rumplestiltskin for an imagined audience. A tale of a girl "faking it" to save her life. "Lie now, figure it out later."

Now, she's too old to play such games with me, but my little boys are at that animated age. Their heads are a little warped by Playstation and Pokemon, but they'll play along as long as I'm goldilocks and they get to be vicious bears.

Personally, I don't think there's anything wrong with me... but my mother thinks I'm warped and that's a tough thing to shake off. By the way, she's the one who's changed. Ten years ago, I camped on her land as a vacation, with my husband and daughter (before the boys were born). We played games in the tent, cooked hot dogs, and skinny dipped in the spring-fed pond near her house. In the morning my mom delivered donuts, coffee, juice, and a newspaper in an beat up pick-up truck. She accepted me back then. She saw us all naked in the water and witnessed pure morning bliss.

Then she got saved... my mom that is. Saved from what, I cannot guess. I'm a very bad person now. She's become more manipulative since her rebirth. I've become more controversial as a consequence.

Perhaps my next post will contain some clever wisdom. This one had no happy ending - yet. I want her god to release her. She wants me to pray. Stalemate.