good thing I don't have an ego problem

because if I did, I'd probably have to get more professional help after listening to my brother's diatribe. Sigh. He means well, I guess.

He is considering allowing a certain transaction to take place, but he is of course wary of what the ramifications may be for reasons I will list below. First, the nature of the transaction: setting MH up with a friend of a friend (FoaF). Friend thinks I'd be just PERFECT for FoaF. Friend has only met me once. Brother, being a founding member of the Society for the Prevention of Unwed Sisters, is weighing the risks:
MH might start with her "femi-nazi" crap, thereby scaring off the only prospect she had, and embarrassing Brother. I'd do my best to keep my mouth full of food, and just enjoy my $500 meal. Promise!

FoaF might not understand that MH swears constantly, and is not capable of reigning it in unless The Kids are around, and even then she is guilty of slight fuck-ups when officially dog tired from being prodded, nagged, nudged, teased and basically abused for 8 hours straight. True.. What's he trying to say?! For chrissakes, Fuck that guy if I can't even swear sometimes. Who is he to judge me? He probably swears all the time too, but just doesn't want a WOMAN who swears, isn't that right?

FoaF might be too successful for MH and her "tree hugger" habits. Successful men don't like tree huggers. They want regular women, you know the ones who "take care" of themselves. I take care of myself. Why do men act like women are disgusting vessels of venerial disease unless we follow some sort of regiment of personal "hygiene" as prescribed by MEN? They all have different expectations, usually based on what type of pornography they happen to be obsessed with at the moment. After listening to my short lecture, Brother innocently shrugged his shoulders, said I'm talking like a feminazi again and all he meant was that I ought to get a haircut and maybe wear something other than X's old Carhardt work pants. That's fair, I guess. But those pants sure are handy.

Finally, FoaF might be religious. As in born-again. Would MH offend him, thereby ruining the solid friendship Brother has built with Friend, who is also born-again? Of course I would try not to offend him, but what about his offending me? I think this relationship is doomed.

Poor brother. He is so desperate to rid himself of the burden of a single MH. Life was much easier when I was married, b/c X was very handy around the house, truth be told. He even took care of Brother's house problems, leaving Brother time to coach football and meet Friend, who fancies himself somewhat of a matchmaker.

I figured out the brutal reality of dating. The golden rule. When a woman is desperate for a man, she'll do anything to get one. Or him, if it's a particular man. But if it's just any man, she will become more desperate. He can smell the desperation, and he knows he can do whatever he wants then. Because she just wants a man. Well, my problem is I just can't allow myself to be desperate. I'd rather die alone with fifty cats than fashion myself differently in order to secure a man. I do love them and admire them for the little things they do and how they act and what they are capable of. And I dream about how wonderful life is when one is around and both of us are happy and content. But I can't deny that I don't need one. So it appears to me that since I can't become desperate, I'll never have that type of happiness. I guess it's my choice?

I'm OK?

My last session with Marty the therapist was- the last session. He told me that I'm on the right track, and if I should ever need to talk about any issues, he'll always be around.

I'm glad because to be honest I was starting to think Marty gets all of his material from outdated self-help books. I had to read The Power of Now and then he started with I'm Ok You're Ok. I didn't have the heart to tell him that I read that thing eons ago. My mom had bought it but acted guilty every time anyone saw her reading it. By 10, my reading skills were advanced since I'd already been sneaking VC Andrews and Stephen King books for years.

I thought IOYO was some sort of pornographic sex how-to manual that was meant only for
adults so I couldn't WAIT until it ended up in cardboard box underneath the basement stairs so I could get my hands on it. That's where all her Harlequins went, eventually. Then the basement would flood and the hundreds of Harlequins would get ruined, no big loss. Anyway. I found it under the basement stairs and devoured the darned thing before I learned that there was NOTHING interesting about that book. NOTHING. Then I started acting like I was OK but my parents were not OK. I've been acting like the parent ever since. That seems to be my role, I guess. Of course, Harris is a popular subject for a day in sophomore PSYCH class lecutres, and I got to learn how he came up with his goods.

Marty's point the other day was that I'm ALWAYS in the parent role. I told him about X and how he never talked to me like he talks to his new PetName. Marty said, "Well, can you picture someone talking to their mother like that? Because that's what you were. When was the last time you acted like anything other than a parent?" Fine. I get it.

Then I told Marty my good news and how excited it was to finally, maybe be able to have my own house again. I told him how I used to drink my first cup of coffee every morning, walking around my back yard, inspecting all of my flowers and my garden. I told him how I used to make a cake from scratch at least once every week. How I enjoyed cleaning my house, decorating, painting, and taking care of it.

And I have not felt anywhere near such happiness since the day I moved. Three years ago next week. I told Marty that I feel like the old me. Just knowing that I can buy a house if I want to has rejuvenated me. Marty said that there I go again, not thinking about having fun. I'm thinking about getting a house so I can create more work and put more pressure on myself. I want to "mother" a house since I am no longer married.

He really missed the mark there, because he's so wrong. I used that house as a play house almost, because I didn't have a home like that growing up. I created my own world to be a kid in. I don't know what I will do when I settle in a new house. Hopefully I've grown in ways that I didn't expect. But for now, I'm so glad to be able to see. Marty is great, but he just doesn't get it this time. Oh well, can't win 'em all, Marty! You're still ok!

Bigger and... and BETTER things!

For all involved. X wanted - what he wanted, I still don't know what that was, but it certainly wasn't me. Move on, MH.


So I've moved on to what I want. I want a house of my own!

I called a mortgage place yesterday to see how many decades it will be before I will actually be able to buy a home on a FIXED rate. And surprise! When they called me back I was tentatively approved for over TWICE what I thought I would ever be able to spend. This is thanks to all the raises I've been getting lately I guess. Plus my credit hasn't been completely wrecked by the divorce. Wow. Do I deserve a stroke of good luck? Crap, I know I just jinxed myself with that last sentence.

So now the search is on for a new home. I took some time while not being able to sleep last night to write down my must-haves:

• AT LEAST washer/dryer hook-ups. No more coin-op or take-out laundry for MH! Yay!
• Area for a dog to run and play. Grassy area. So I can have a dog. Plus I need at least a container garden.
  
• BIG kitchen (or at least room to enlarge kitchen) because I have three awesome metal cabinets from the forties that NEED to stay in the kitchen.

IF it's a condo or townhouse:

• Lots of storage
• Two bedroom w/ at least 1.75 baths
• Private outside area for my morning coffee
• LOW HOA
• Nice neighborhood to preserve my morning run.

IF it's a house:

• It CANNOT be newer than 1960 (unless I just go with brand new, which I doubt)
• Fence
• Two baths or room to grow
• Original kitchen and maybe baths
• Must not add up to more than I can afford INCLUDING extras

What I will need to buy: I need a couch. I have not had a couch for three years.

I want to buy a Murphy bed for the guest room/space so I can also use it as a sewing room and office. There is an awesome Murphy bed that has a desk top on the outside, which gently floats down when you pull the bed down. It probably costs around $3 grand though. I could frickin' make my own for that kind of money! But that's what I want.

I NEED to get a new bed. The last time I had a brand new bed, it was when my parents bought me a daybed when I moved out. That was, let's see, 17 years ago! I slept on the daybed for 10 years. Then I bought an old full-sized bed from craigslist for $40. It is from the fifties. I don't recommend sleeping on a mattress from the fifties, even if it is from SEARS. When my sister came to visit, I broke out the air mattress for her. It's a queen size! She raved about how comfortable it is "for an air mattress." After she left, I thought it would be fun to try it out and I have been sleeping on it ever since. It's SO much nicer than that crappy old thing. So I need a new bed. I might upgrade to a queen size too. Not sure.

That's really all. Except for appliances if the "new" place doesn't have them. But I sincerely hope it does. I want AUTHENTIC appliances. I want the counter-top RANGE and the WALL oven.

I think I'll copy most of this post to my other blog and try to keep all of this boring house crap over there.

"Pathetic" works on other women as well.

I have had a few hours to process the below information, and I can't figure out if I'm being FOOLED or if it's true.

Fact: I am GETTING emails from X. But they are written "to" someone else.

According to these emails:
X is GETTING laid.
Someone else is actually ENJOYING it. I'm not making this shit up.

Which leads me to the following questions:
a. Is X fucking with me, so to speak? (am I just vain as hell that he could be wasting this much effort on a game?) OR

b. Is X actually getting LAID? ... and PLEASING this person?

Possible answers to:
a: Yes. He is just playing games, he has nothing better to do, you know damn well, MH, that X couldn't score in the first place, that's why he had to find a prude like you who was so afraid of men she wouldn't know she what she was missing.

b: Yes. He actually DID find someone who he is ATTRACTED to, and YES, she is a human female specimen. Not sure what she looks like. Could be an ugly heifer but according to X, the specimen has huge jugs and entertaining nipples.

Why SHOULDN'T I be grossed out?

Either way, I'm annoyed. If he is putting on some show of a back-and-forth email chronology of their newly established sex life, it's a waste of time. But what if I'm just fooling MYSELF? What if (I do suspect that) he IS in a new relationship and both are happily satisfied?

Does that mean there is something wrong with me? It has caused me to take a long look at myself over the past few hours. Is there really something wrong with ME? Or, did X just marry someone he never was really attracted to in the first place? Because he never said any of this crap to me that he says in these emails.

What bothers me the most, and I'm only being honest about the whole thing...

..is that he NEVER ONCE acted like he was attracted to me at ALL. I thought there was something wrong with HIM, and I felt SORRY for him and loved him anyway.
..is that I supported him because he was WEAK and LAZY and I loved him anyway.
..is that I TOLD myself that the only reason he was cheating on me while I was WORKING and he was DINKING around all day at home, was that he had a low self esteem and it was HIS problem.

But wow, here it seems, X is carrying on some sort of relationship with a YOUNGER woman and "they" seem to be very happy and content in every way.

It hurts. I feel so immature and hateful, but it does hurt.

Admittedly, I will probably have a much better future than X. I have always known that I could take care of myself.
I have a career, he doesn't. I can *pay my bills.* He doesn't. I.... have Kitty?

Well. I have assured myself for the past year-and-a-half that I would get my revenge by going on with life and I'd be fulfilled while he would languish in his cesspool of sloth. But I guess I was wrong. I'm the one in the cesspool. He's going on with his life. He has found someone else. Finally.

Why didn't he just leave me alone in the first place?

Yes, he really is that stupid.

And I married him. I've never been characterized as particularly brilliant ( unless it was said in jest ) either, but at least I didn't make the following ghastly mistake:

X accidentally sent me an email. It wasn't meant for me, but since he clearly forgot to delete my email address from his contact list under his pet name for me, it did in fact reach my inbox. It seems that I am not the only woman in X's life with PetName. He has managed to find another who shares all of my special qualities that made me so very lovely at first. He probably doesn't even realize that he's made such a blunder and I'll be damned if I'm going to say anything! This is good stuff and makes me feel ever so full of pride that I had the sense finally to rid myself of him.

I particularly enjoyed the content. He apologized for being such an "idiot" the other night. According to the email, there was a certain conversation after they "had sex," in which the NEW PetName mentioned that X was number 14. In men. Number 17 in humans. It seems that X's reaction to that information was less than positive. As I have mentioned before, we were both virgins when we were married. As far as I'm concerned, we are both still sexually uneducated. X is obviously working hard to learn something, which of course is a relief. I always thought I knew more than he did, but never said so. Anyhow, he must have acted like a judgmental asshole about NewPetName having more experience than he did. And this email was supposed to be some sort of apology, filled with excuses. He has low self-esteem. He wonders if she compares him to "all the other guys." He knows that she is the "sweetest" person and would never do that, but again. He has a low self-esteem.

I hate to say I TOLD him so, but I DID. I told him right before he left that I had a little bit of advice for him in case he is ever again lucky enough to attract the attention of some poor dumb young lady: Don't act like such an asshole. Don't act like she's not good enough for you. Low self esteem my ass.

But ooooooh no. He has to go and screw it up RIGHT after someone is kind enough to sleep with him. I have considered giving him a call or replying to the mistake, but I know I'd only lecture him on how I TOLD him BEFORE what he should do.... but of course he didn't listen. Which is another one of his defects.... and on and on.

But I don't want to. I don't care enough to bother. It was good to see that email. It is a reminder of what a fake he was before we got married. Give me a break with that low self-esteem crap, buddy. He acted the exact same way to me until I got sick of it. A woman does not want to be apologized to, she just wants her man to be nice in the first place!

Dream of X being pathetic

In this new dream, I'm a completely different MH. This time, I am finally making a living wage. I can finally afford a condo in one of those (finally) refurbished downtown buildings. The elegant tower was accurately named The Metropolitan decades ago. In my dream. I feel like The Metropolitan and I have a lot in common.


I glide triumphantly through the large glass doors as the bell hop guy stares. I let him know exactly who I am, feeling like Mary Tyler Moore. He makes a phone call, mentioning that he has never heard of "Mental Hygiene" before. Nobody ever heard of me, he says to me. He reminds me of my old Jr high school secretary, who would keep the phone cradled between her ear and her massive shoulder while it rang at my mom's desk and I prayed that she wouldn't answer....

I assure the pseudoinvestigator that there must be some mistake. I rifle through my purse for a key even though I know I don't have one. My realtor had left a voice mail announcing his intent to leave the key at the concierge. I explain to that I just want to check with her over "there," and I will remove myself from the premises if she does not have my key.

Luckily, it is at the desk. Sherlock immediately becomes the bell hop guy again, and apologizes profusely. No longer a trespasser, I pointedly ignore him as I call for someone to show me how to get up to my brand new condo. "Right away, Ms. Hygiene," I hear as I authoritatively scan the poor sops seated on the marble benches directly in front of this majestic castle. Through the smoky glass, I recognize something in the face of one of those vagrants, but I can't seem to make it out entirely. I creep closer and realize, just as the vagrant in question meets my gaze, that it is X!

WTF is he doing there? Of course it could only be one thing. He just can't leave me the hell alone. I storm out the doors and over to his bench. I demand to know why in the world he would be sitting outside of MY house. He replies with some surprise. He did not know it was my building.
He met a girl at the coffee shop a couple days earlier and they had spent hours talking about "everything." She really seemed to understand him. She had mentioned that she lived here, and he was trying to see if he could meet her again.

I ask X how long he has been sitting around, stalking this poor girl. Probably MUCH fatter than me, although probably has a nicer nose and short hair, I decide. "Two days," he says. Of course. He would much rather sit and do nothing than look for a JOB. He looks like complete shit, too. Doesn't even care if he scares her with his unshaven jowls and dirty pants. Typical. Eh, maybe she likes that type. I must have at one point, right? He mumbles that he has been kicked out of his friend's house and he has nowhere to go. He thought for sure things "clicked" between himself and this girl, but he just hasn't seen her since they met.

I am torn. On one hand, I feel sorry for X and want to help him. On the other hand, he disgusts me. Same old crap! Never living in reality. He speaks up. "I think she works at the hospital. She's a doctor or something." I glare at him dead in the eye and squawk, "She's a doctor and she spent hours talking to you. Did you lie to her about your employment history?" He grins. "Well, yeah, but I thought that once she got to know me, it wouldn't matter. Besides, she makes enough for the both of us. So you live here, huh? Don't you want to show me your new place?"

I know exactly what he is trying to pull with that one, but I am too sick of him to bother with any expertly aimed insults. I tell him that I am just leaving, and I'll give him a ride to the hospital to look for his doctor.

It is winter. Icy and bitterly cold. It is getting dark. I drop him off at the emergency room and wish him the best of luck.

Same old things on my restless mind

All this thought about houses and what you have to do to get them reminds me of probably why I'm so disgruntled about not being able to work today. Today would have been my/our 5-year wedding anniversary.

I sure wish I could erase the whole ordeal from my mind. I don't want to be married to X again. But I did so much enjoy being married in many ways. If only bla bla bla, right? I realize that it wasn't a great match, NOW. Actually, neither one of us are great spouses. But I can't imagine that all the other people in the world who ARE married and making it "work" are perfect. I think about what my imperfections are, and wonder WTF is SO bad about them. I think it's unfair that they are even thought of as imperfections.

So I complain about litterers. So what. So I REFUSED to watch sexually explicit movies. Is that going to kill a guy? Really, I wouldn't have had a problem with it if he didn't find it to be such an integral part of life. I have no respect for a guy who allows his mind to be controlled by the greedy producers of pornography. Doesn't he understand that he is being USED by these companies? Well, that was X's biggest gripe. He contends that I'm just impossible for a guy to live with, due to my aversion to anything that I deem to be objectifying. I didn't start out being like that in our relationship, I just slowly starting noticing him dumbly staring at women when we were out and about. I noticed him being mesmerized during a token sex scene in a movie. But never, ever was he interested in staring dumbly at me. I probably became jealous of the cheerleaders he drooled over and looked at on the internet all the time.

Add to that his refusal to get a job, help take care of daily upkeep of the house, and complaining about how he was "meant for more" than being trapped in a non-rockstar existence, you have a ruined marriage. So I wasn't perfect.

I don't think I will ever be a good wife again. I still grow uncomfortable and a bit upset every time I see those cheerleaders X loved to ogle. I still avoid movies with sexually explicit scenes. It brings back bad memories. I don't believe it's normal for men to be preoccupied with the body parts of women other than their partners. I think it shows immaturity or a lack of respect, which is immature. So I'm impossible.

I guess I just have to accept that I'm ALWAYS going to be alone/single. I would definitely rather be alone than stuck with someone like X. Even if the guy had a job, I still wouldn't want him. It does suck being alone and not having someone to cook for and take care of and love, but it doesn't suck as much as loving someone who can't love you back.

I have friends who would disagree with that statement. One friend of mine has been unhappily (IMO) married for 12 years. Her husband is the epitome of what I would call a loser. When he is not working, he spends most of his time at one of a few bars. He holds down his job, but he ignores her most of the time. They don't do anything together. But they are married, and it's a partnership that she just doesn't want to give up. One time, I arrived at their house. We had made plans to spend the entire day shopping at a new mall. I rang the doorbell and knocked, but there was no answer. I could barely make out their forms through the glass paned door, which provided a skewed view of the back yard through the sliding glass patio door. He handed her a cup of coffee and casually placed his arm around her shoulder for a few seconds before sitting down across from her. I realized that this is enough to keep her there.

I wondered if I would have ever divorced X if he had ever touched me like that. I am not sure. Wow, your husband touching you without you touching him first? Unheard of. Oh well, I'll never know now. If I were to bet on it, I wouldn't bet that this would have stopped the wheels from turning, but it might have made them turn much more slowly.

I don't know about him, but I was happy for the most part, until I realized that he was philosophically opposed to getting a job and until he started to realize that I expected him to get a job. We owned a home that was perfect for us. We were so proud of it, too. We even had our wedding reception in our back yard. It was beautiful to us. I loved working on the yard, in the garden, in the kitchen. I loved everything about it. To say that I miss my life before would be a gross understatement.

One thing is for sure. Happiness would not have been a possibility if I had been required to be the breadwinner. I wonder why I hated being the breadwinner so much. Lots of women and men don't have a problem with it. Am I too selfish or self-centered?

I've spoken with three people this morning, all of them either close friends or family. I have not had the nerve to admit why I'm distant and agitated. I have made excuses that I'm busy so I don't have to talk to anybody. I can't wait until I go back to work.

Warning: Ambien may impair spelling, grammar and general cognizance

In my case it DOES. Sleep has eluded me regularly for the past couple years. When my concentration and memory seemed to suffer several months ago, I talked to my doctor. She prescribed Ambien. It works fine, however I do not tend to follow her directions when I take it.

For some reason, I feel relieved and assured that I'll soon be asleep- and what do I do then? I get busy, trying to pack as many projects in during that twenty to thirty minutes as possible. Of course this is the worst idea- and so very like me.

This behavior has been downright embarrassing. Then again I'm lucky that under Ambien's influence I am quite harmless. It's not like I become a completely different person- more like a Jackass version of myself. Not like I do stupid things that SOME PEOPLE don't need Ambien to do (like Monster Kitty or Crazy Filthy Men Stoning Kurdish Girl or Hindley). I just...

• send rude email replies to X (eh, in the first place he has it coming for even bothering me at all and in the second place he wouldn't be able to catch any misspelled words anyway so no big deal)
• send rude emails to Bill O'Reilly (never watch the show, but love the thought of riling him up) and for the most part
• use whatever form of communication open to me besides the phone in order to make a fool of myself

From now on, there will be no talking or typing if I take one of those little tablets.



Speaking of Hindley and the No A-Hole Rule, I did buy the book. It was more or less a predictable but mildly witty and smartly packaged common-sense approach to accepting that there are assholes everywhere. I'm sure I got something out of it. Otherwise I'd have a hard time not feeling guilty for making the purchase. Who am I kidding, I feel guilty and that's all there is to say.

Tomorrow I think I'll dig out my old copy of Stanley Bing's What Would Machiavelli Do?