Monday, December 22, 2014

A Big Pile of Doo Doo

I’ve been reading a lot of blogs lately about how to survive and what to do after a divorce. Sad to be reading this so close to one of the most precious times of the year but divorce happens. All too often. But as I read these blogs, I always think “What happened to get you to that point in the first place?” Not that it’s any of my business but I like to get the whole story. Because it happened to me and I guess I want to see if my version is anything like theirs. And they usually are. So I wanted summarize what usually happens when two people, bound for life in glorious expectation, decide to hasten the ending of what they once thought would be a til-death-do-they-part deal. Mind you, this is just a generalization.

When two people meet with the intention of dating, whether a chance encounter or set up by friends, there is eventually a thought of “Wow! I really like this person. I wonder if he/she is my Mr./Mrs. Right?” With stars in their eyes, they follow the path that most twosomes do…they fall in love, wish for forever and get married. Then they start seeing what, in most cases, was hidden behind the glow. Because it’s obvious that when you are dating and getting to know each other, you put your best face on.

It’s after you put on the dress/tux, rings and cake-in-the-face that you find out the little things that maybe you wish you had known before committing to all of the above. Some of it is just little things that you can shrug your shoulders at like it’s no big deal but then there are some that truly make you wonder how you missed them in the first place. Now I’m not talking only from first-hand experience here, although some of them are mine, and I’m not boo-hooing about my marriage woes either. I’m way past that. I’m just saying….

Little gross habits come out after the rings are on. Like nose picking or passing gas at the dinner table. I truly don’t believe these are cause for divorce. These are what I call little pieces of doo doo in the yard. You scoop them up, flush them down the toilet (not literally, of course) and get on with life.
You shovel them up and put them out for the trash man. Similarly, snoring (as long as it doesn’t keep you from sleeping in the same bed), belching in public or chewing with their mouth open…annoying at best and still just little droppings. You can probably put in your two cents and maybe get these lessened a bit or even changed.

Of course, there are some habits that fill up the yard with poop or clog the toilet (again, not literally) that can really hurt a person. Drinking to excess is one of them. Especially if you know this person won’t get help or even admit there is a problem. Drug abuse is another one.  In either case, if you don’t love yourself enough to get help, then there is no way you can love your spouse as you are supposed to. Or maybe you love yourself too much to care about the way your addictions are affecting others. Same thing in my book. Get help and save your marriage. Don’t be stupid.

One of my pet peeves that can absolutely, positively stir up a shit storm is vulgar and abusive language, especially when it’s directed at me. I don’t do it and I deserve the same respect. The occasional slip is a different matter but when it’s a habitual thing, a way of life, that goes too far. Big storm. Respect is a big part of marriage and speaking to your spouse in this fashion not only shows that you don’t respect them, it hurts. If you can’t have a simple argument or even a casual conversation without it, you have issues that need to be addressed.

Physical abuse in any way, shape or form? Goes without saying. Whether it’s a husband hitting the wife or vice versa. Should not happen. This is a pile of crap that cannot be shoveled or flushed.

Cheating? Well, some say it depends on the reason behind it. To that I say WHAT? No. I don’t care if your significant other did it first and you retaliated. You took vows and they should be honored. There have been many marriages that can get beyond this but I don’t know of any. Cheating breaks the most important bond of trust that should never be breached and once broken, most often cannot be repaired. If you can flush this, I admire you.


Jeez, as I read this back to myself, is it little wonder that both of my girlies are single? I honestly didn’t write this to be snarky or jaded (both of which I am). I’m not bitter about my divorce. Bitterness takes too much away from me and nothing from him so I refuse to acknowledge it by being bitter. I have cleaned up my doo doo piles and moved on. But for those of you who have not, in the end what matters most is how much you can live with in your marriage. Or not live with it. And whether your love is strong enough to withstand whatever comes your way. Those are the people I really wish I could have emulated. 

Monday, December 1, 2014

Commercially Speaking

I was watching a movie last night, for lack of anything better to do, and I realized why I rarely even turn on the television...other than for sporting events and weather reports. Why anything on any cable station, in this case CMT, gets on my last nerve.

First of all it’s because of what movie I was watching, which was a really lame one. No, I’m not going to mention the name. Ok, it was Twister. Every time it’s been on, I’ve watched it. Some kind of strange obsession with Bill Paxton that I really don’t understand. He’s going bald and he can’t act. He’s not a mega star or all that good looking. But he has a voice that kinda haunts me. Gruff, a little hoarse. A lot sexy, especially when he speaks softly.

And because I was annoyed that I was watching Twister again, I started looking for a reason to be further annoyed and perhaps justify…something? And I found it, which has been my reason for not watching television much in the first place. The commercials. And being annoyed with the commercials made me further obsessed. So I stopped paying attention to the movie, which I pretty much know every word, every nuance of anyway. And I found out this…

How annoyed was I? For every seven minutes of movie time, there were eight minutes of commercials. Twenty. Twenty commercials in a row each break. Yes, I started timing and then counting them. In between, I was putting the finishing touches on my bucket list so it wasn’t a totally wasted evening.

After a while, the timing and counting got a little boring (I hear you asking, ya think?). So I began writing down the commercials in each segment of eight minutes. I found out that they were playing three loops of twenty. After a while, I quit even pretending to watch the movie. After all, I’ve seen it before.

But even writing down the commercials gets a little boring (I saw you roll your eyes). So I began timing each one. They were mostly 30 second spots but you got the gist that car commercials are more important than those for Macy’s holiday sales and Geico ads were even more important than the ones for cars. I guess to even own a car, you need insurance so that makes sense. But the most important, it seems, is a local (Louisiana, I mean) rehab center where a former New Orleans Saints football player’s father went to dry out. Go figure.

The worst part of the whole thing, the whole wasted evening, was that it didn’t stop when I turned off the TV. This blog was running through my head half the night so I didn’t sleep much. Hardly at all, in fact. Which made me grumpy most of the day and gave me a headache as well.


And I’m blaming it all on Bill Paxton.