D-Day

Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Morning: I woke up to a dream about having received my divorce decree in the mail.
Afternoon: Check mail. Nothing. Pout.

Wednesday, April 18, 2012
10:03am: Google chat my mom telling her to magically make the decree appear because I'm sick of waiting.
10:05am: Receive phone call from mom saying that the attorney just called to say he had the decree.
10:06am: Yell and jump up and down for joy.
10:30am: Realize that my productivity for the day is shot.
11:45am: Leave work to go to attorney's office.
11:55am: Find favorite parking spot on that street empty, with an hour and two minutes in the meter.
12:00pm: Pick up decree from attorney's legal assistant.
12:05pm: Yell out my car window to my attorney, who is walking down the street, to thank him profusely. I am in the middle of the street blocking traffic.
12:30pm: Have lunch with two of my bridemaids. Initially, the purpose was not to celebrate my newfound freedom, but the irony was there nonethless.
2:30pm: Return to work.
5:10pm: Give decree to mom so she can look at it in all its glory.
5:15pm: Look at official date of divorce to send to the clerk at church to change my marital status. It was Wednesday, April 11, 2012.

This is the face of someone who has been through hell and back (twice) and lived to tell the tale. I've been spit on, beaten, bitten, scratched, kicked, thrown, degraded, yelled at, called worthless, thrown in jail for reacting like a human being, homeless, out of work, called fat & useless, prohibited from practicing my faith and contacting my friends and family. It didn't take away my faith, and the last shreds of strength I could muster were 100% God-given. My gratitude is inexplicable.

Watch out world, I'm back.

So Close I Can Taste It...

One year ago today, I received a phone call that would change my life...for the worse. The night of April 2, 2011, I was contentedly watching Yentl with my mother when my phone rang with an unfamiliar number on the caller ID. I answered it because it was a familiar area code, and I thought there was a good chance it was someone that I knew and actually wouldn't mind talking to.

I was wrong.

It was the ex on the other line. The ex he was living with. The ex who, for some reason, felt it necessary to intervene when he was falling to pieces because I wasn't in his life anymore. To spare you the gory details, this phone call resulted in a "reconciliation" that never, EVER should have happened. I lost everything.

I am happy (and almost proud) to say that today has another marker, and that is that I signed my final divorce papers today. I still have to wait for the return of his signatures, and who knows when that will be, but the end is very, very near. The taste of complete freedom is going to be so sweet.

Let's have a few niece-isms to lighten the mood, shall we?

Niece: Can I pet Narnia?
Aunt Bekah: Sure! (Brings cat over)
Niece: Pet her softly!

Ladies and gents, my niece knows how to use adverbs. I'm so proud.

Aunt Bekah: Were you naughty today?
Niece: YEAH!

Niece: (softly) ruff! ruff! ruff!
Aunt Bekah: Are you a puppy?
Niece: Yep! *giggle* ruff! ruff!

The little monster is now doing her whole screechy/giggly/yelly bit...and I just had her on my lap to discover that she smelled like vomit. Why? She gagged herself after drinking milk. Lovely. I made a joke about it, saying to at least do it in the toilet...I got some dirty looks about that. But as a former bulimic, I can tell you that dairy products are pretty gross on the way back up. I hope she found the experience less than pleasureable and never, ever does it again.

Oh, yeah. Here's one more for you. I was playing with her and tried to crawl into her tent. Her response as my rear half didn't make it in quite as planned?

 "Aunt Bekah's so big! It's ok!"

Just what I needed, a reminder from a toddler that I have a big butt.

But it's ok. :)

Just Another Panicked Monday

For once, that's a good thing.

I am now the proud owner of 4 brand new, shiny, SQUARE cupcake pans. I was going to bake something as soon as I got home with them, but then realized that I had no frosting, and I wasn't in the mood to make it. So no baking this evening. Anyway, my tendency to panic is the reason I was able to purchase the pans. Over dinner my dad and I were discussing the logistics of the reception for which I am baking. I remembered that Target had the pans I needed and all of a sudden I had this terrible sinking feeling that if I didn't go NOW they would be out of stock. So after dinner we headed to Target and sure enough, there were only 4 left, and they were on sale! And I have my panic to thank. Weird.

I'll admit it. I looked like a shapeless hag today. I worked Job #1 in pajamas and was very, very tempted to do the same for Job #2. Instead I stayed in the black t-shirt I slept in, threw on the denim maxi I wore Saturday, my yellow hoodie, some sloppy kohl eyeliner and the Batman chucks. It was bad. When it became evident that I'd have to go out for dinner, I swapped the hoodie for a better-fitting sweater and actually put some makeup on. I guess it was a slight improvement, but let's be real, who am I gonna impress at the Chinese buffet?

It's been 4 days since my 90 days were up. My attorney is waiting on his attorney. That makes me nervous, but I'm trying not to let it really affect me. He would want and expect me to be upset, it's just the kind of passive aggressive mental manipulation he excels at. So, I'm not upset. I'm just living my life a day at a time. Any more than that and I think I'd collapse under the pressure of just being alive.

Yes, just one day at a time. Monday is almost over...what will Tuesday bring?

Gotye!

No, that is not olde english for "gotcha!" It is the name of my new musical love affair.

The song "Somebody That I Used to Know" is amazing. Take a gander at the lyrics:

Now and then I think of when we were together
Like when you said you felt so happy you could die
Told myself that you were right for me
But felt so lonely in your company
But that was love and it's an ache I still remember

You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness
Like resignation to the end
Always the end
So when we found that we could not make sense
Well you said that we would still be friends
But I'll admit that I was glad that it was over

But you didn't have to cut me off
Make out like it never happened
And that we were nothing
And I don't even need your love
But you treat me like a stranger
And that feels so rough
You didn't have to stoop so low
Have your friends collect your records
And then change your number
I guess that I don't need that though
Now you're just somebody that I used to know

Now and then I think of all the times you screwed me over
But had me believing it was always something that I'd done
And I don't wanna live that way
Reading into every word you say
You said that you could let it go
And I wouldn't catch you hung up on somebody that you used to know...
But you didn't have to cut me off
Make out like it never happened
And that we were nothing
And I don't even need your love
But you treat me like a stranger
And that feels so rough
You didn't have to stoop so low
Have your friends collect your records
And then change your number
I guess that I don't need that though
Now you're just somebody that I used to know

I used to know
That I used to know

Somebody...
-Gotye (aka Wally De Backer)
----

The bold/italic verse is sheer perfection. Especially since it's rare for me to capture the pernicious existence of his ex-girlfriend in most songs I see my relationship in. Oh, haven't I mentioned her yet? Long story short, if I wanted, I could've had a divorce handed to me a gold platter last year because someone (hint: it's not me) is an adulterer. This verse, appropriately enough, is sung by a female.

Even though the rest of the song is from the male perspective, I still identify with it...I was going to pick out sections, but really, it's everything. Except the parts about being ignored and treated like a stranger. I'm happy about all that. I don't ever want to know about him or hear about him ever, ever again. I'm making myself ill just thinking about it. He is just somebody that I used to know.

I saw my psychiatrist today. He's great. He asked me about any future plans for husband and family, and validated/agreed with me when I promptly said I don't trust anyone and that at least for now, life is all about me. I'm working, saving money, and trying to get my head together so I can get my life together.

You know, I've never lived alone? Ever since I was a little girl, all I wanted out of life was my own apartment and a cat. I have the cat. Now I need an apartment. With red walls. And a room I can dedicate to the creation of art. That has been my vision since I was a kid, and I'm going to accomplish it and many other things before I get all wrapped up in this whole "love" bit.

Perfecting my cat-eye eyeliner is fairly high on the list:

This was yesterday. It was a good eyeliner day.

Actually, I've been working on that since my discovery of eyeliner, and I'm just getting it down now. Sad.

Today, I showed the world my love of diet coke.

 I put this picture on Facebook and it caused a bit of a stir...probably because no one's seen me post anything on my own page since last year. I'm proud of myself for taking the plunge and posting it, but I'm a little nervous that something bad will come of it.

On my bottom half was my black pleated chiffon skirt and t-strap flats. Nothing like mixing casual, dressy and comfy.

That concludes tonights edition of Skirting My Issues. Where will my exciting life take me next?

The kitchen. (To clean, not to eat.)

Plague!

Well, not exactly. Everyone in my house is sick with a massive cold...except for me. My sister is just getting over it, my dad just got it again, my niece got it the other night, my mom succumbed yesterday, and here I am, completely healthy. Physically, at least. It's quite obvious that my mental health needs work.

A while back I had said that March was going to be a big month for a bunch of reasons. Well, the first reason arrived on Thursday, March 1. Baby best friend was born at 11:40, perfectly healthy, without so much as a birthmark. I realize it's 4 days later, I apologize for the delay. I was actually at the hospital when she was born, keeping one of the new Grandpas and the little uncle (he's 9) company in the waiting room. It was a great day, but exhausting, and I wasn't even the one giving birth!

Next up on the list of March events - other best friend's baby hits 6 months! It's funny, because these two best friends are 8 months apart, and now their kids are almost 6 months apart. I think that's neat.

The most exciting thing to happen this month? I CAN GET DIVORCED! 17 days until the 90 day waiting period is up. My papers are eligible to be seen by a judge on March 22. I am praying that it happens quickly and smoothly. I can't wait to be free.

This morning, I put on my black pencil skirt, net tights, mustard yellow tshirt with the embellishment on the neckline (tucked in), black patent belt and heels. Straight hair, neutral makeup, simple gold jewelry. I thought I looked decent, but then I got home from Job #2 and looked awful...from the shoulders down at least. My makeup was still flawless. I've gotten pretty good at it, if I say so myself. Anyway, I didn't like what I saw, so I didn't take a picture.

I'm excited to try new hair ideas tomorrow...but right now, I'm going to take a bath and paint my nails. Maybe not in that order.

Err...kickboxing?

If your definition of surviving is emerging on two legs, having a pulse, then yes, I survived.

Folks, I didn't sign up for your standard local gym cardio kickboxing class. No, no, I  landed myself in an MMA (mixed martial arts) studio. Learning MMA things. Like how to actually fight another person. And win.

Guess who knew that when she signed up but conveniently forgot and was in for a rude awakening? This girl! And 5 out of the other 7 there. One had no idea what she was in for (poor thing) and the other looked like she did this for a living.

We punched, we kicked, we jumped, we punched and kicked some more, followed by punching and kicking and more jumping and push ups and crunches. My chest hurt within 20 minutes. Actually, it still feels kind of funny. I'm not sure if it's old age or asthma or both. Or maybe I'm just that out of shape.  I hope it gets easier.

That's always my fear, that things will never get any easier. I'm afraid I'll never get the hang of this and it will be hard forever. I'm afraid that the flashbacks and nightmares won't stop, and I'll be dealing with all of this marriage-related mental trauma forever. I want that stuff to go away. Just like I want to get in shape and get the hang of this kickboxing thing.

The class ends in March. My divorce should be final in March.

Some other things that are happening in March:

• One best friend will have a baby.
• Another will come home to visit.
• Another's baby will be 6 months old.
• Another will celebrate 2 years with her awesome boyfriend.
• I will be a mere 6 months from turning 30.

Should be a good month. Provided I survive kickboxing.