It was Miller Time...

I said the other day that I was going to go get my crochet on while sitting on the porch outside the bar and I have proof! Kathleen, the scarf exists! Everyone was like, "What the f are you doing, Grandma?" Ohhh, but it was soooo nice out. I never understand how the bar could have people in it and the porch is empty! When the weather is like this, the only people inside should be the ones waiting for a table outside! You can read all about the yarn and the scarf I'm making in this post.

I finally gave up on crocheting under the influence when I started making boo boos. Fear not Kathleen, it has been frogged. It was no biggie, though because I was only about 4 shells past the screw up.

It's Miller Time.

I've been slacking major on posting stuff, but with good reason. Mr. Flight and I had some drama, but it's all water under the bridge. I posted about two feet of a rambling blog entry last week, but then I committed the cardinal sin and took it down. It was too personal and I didn't want a reminder of a shitty ass week on my blog for all posterity. It doesn't matter anyway because we're better than ever now, so it's all good.

I'm on my way to go sit outside on the porch of the bar Mr. Flight and I work and finish my friend Kathleen's one-skein scarf that I started in April. Just a couple hours of double crochet and it's done! She'll be sitting pretty well in time for Fall. I also have work to do for the museum, so I'll have my laptop with me too. Will I get work done? Probably not. Will I crochet and drink Miller Lite? You can count on it.

So I haven't posted pictures in forever like I mentioned in my last post, so I figure it's time. I think the iPhone takes really good photos, but for some reason Mr. Flight thinks it takes shitty photos. I think he may not have the steadiest hands. (But I love you regardless, Boo.) I will however post this blurry-ass picture of me that Mr. Flight took because I look skinny as a mofo. Oh yes, I go on the divorce diet and I think I'm hot shit. Ahhh...vanity.

I love technology

Picture me singing that like Kip from Napoleon Dynamite. I just got an iPhone and boy do I feel dumb. I'm trying to set it up now, when I should be doing my laundry. I wanted to set the Apps before I threw my laundry in, cause I was going to play with it while I sat at the bar next to the laundromat.

Fast forward: Okay, so now it's two days later. I was going to finish my post, but I was about to be locked out out of the laundromat. This phone is rad. It does everything. It was funny because Mr. Flight played with mine and bought his own the next day. It's even funnier because he's the "I don't have cable" variety. I'm really glad though because that means I can just ask him how to do stuff rather than have to figure it out myself. I mentally check out around electronics. The downside is Mr. Flight hasn't looked up from the phone since he got it in his hot little hands. It's kind of cute though, he's all super jazzed about it. The phone also takes really good pictures and ever since I moved into my new apartment, I haven't been able to find my camera. (Note the the lack of pictures on the ol' blogger lately.) So problem solved on the lost camera for now.

I'm starving to death. Kubiac eat now. (Parker Lewis Can't Lose, anyone?)

Shameless plug for Joan and Victor!

Because I met two extremely awesome people last week, I'd like to give them a little plug. And yes, I do mean little. (I know how many people read this blog, okay?) They are the founders of the Carbon County Cultural Project and generally amazingly interesting and hospitable people. Here's a description of the CCCP ganked from their website:

Located in a former wireworks factory, the Carbon County Cultural Project (CCCP) is the destination for people who enjoy unique spaces, modernistic design and contemporary American cuisine. As home to FLOW restaurant, we are proud to have become the premiere Art and Food destination in northeastern Pennsylvania.Built c.1850 as a wire mill, and later home to a silk mill and dressmaker’s factory, the Carbon County Cultural Project has undergone extensive renovation from its industrial origins to the present art gallery facility. The CCCP gallery space features emerging and established artists and Stabin Morykin Gallery offers a permanent collection of paintings and limited edition prints by famed international artist, Victor Stabin.

The CCCP also offers workshops that can be taken for Act 48 credits. Here's the most current one:

Mr. Flight and I went up there last week to eat and I had such a good time. The building itself is so, so neat.

See:

So go! Eat, learn and look at art.

Public Service Announcement

NOTE: The boyfriend will now be referred to as Mr. Flight. It actually is quite fitting, since Mr. Fight (my future ex-husband) was/is a total dick and loved to fight, whether that meant arguing with me or actual fist fighting with others.

Mr. Flight on the other hand is sweet and kind and smart and thoughtful and-get this-he goes birdwatching.

note: not an actual photograph of my boyfriend birding

(he doesn't own hats nearly that cool, or hang out w/ young boys)

So now I don't have to simply refer to him as "my boyfriend" or worse,
"my new boyfriend".

I hope I can finish this post before my brain explodes.

Holy. Shit. Am. I. Pissed.

Now that the divorce-y stuff is getting underway, I told (soon to be ex) Mr. Fight to get his own damn car insurance, cell phone plan, bank account, etc. I mean, I wasn't a dick about it, I was really trying to be as patient and accommodating as possible about the whole thing. I wasn't the one who had to get the new plans, policies, etc., because everything was in my name to begin with, with the exception of the car insurance. The policy we had was mine before we met and then I added him to mine, since he was on his parents (natch). He texted me a week ago maybe and told me he took care of the car insurance. Oh, he took care of it all right.

Well, I've been going through all my online stuff and changing the passwords, not only to keep him from screwing me in whatever way he can think of, but because the password was our wedding day. It was bothering me to have to keep typing it every time I went online. That day was apparently not one of my better days for decision-making. Anyway. So there I was changing my password and I wanted to check how much my car insurance was now that Mr. Fucknut was off of it. Are you ready? HE CANCELLED MY CAR INSURANCE AND LEFT HIMSELF ON MY POLICY. Oh, yes. Instead of getting his own policy with the same or a different company, he just deletes my car off the policy that I've had for over seven years. I've had no car insurance for the last week. Nice. Thank goodness I checked. I mean, the problem was easily solved, I just called up and cancelled his car and put mine back on. I thought about sending him some psycho angry text, but that's not going to be as fun as letting him think he has car insurance when he, in fact, does not. I'm pretty sure he's too stupid to realize he isn't getting a bill. Also, this way I don't have to have any contact with him, which is one of my top priorities.

At first we were trying to be all cool to each other, but as soon as he realized that we were totally, totally over, he stopped being so...cordial. Unfortunately we still have to deal with each other quite a bit, since right now we're not only still technically married, but we had a lot of intertwined shit. Luckily we didn't own anything and I'm willing to keep all the debt so it was only small stakes stuff, like the cell phones, car insurance, etc. I was talking to him a couple weeks ago because he wanted me to give him my engagement ring back (uhh...which I bought myself, but I said fuck it) and he kept asking me if I had a new boyfriend. I told him yes, but didn't give any other details at the time (don't worry you'll hear all about him soon enough) because Mr. Fight is a fucking psycho and I didn't want any stalker shit. I knew he was only asking me because he wanted to tell me all about his new girlfriend. You ready for this one? This totally beats the car insurance, but I've known about it for a few weeks so I'm not pissed. Actually I was never pissed, when he told me about the new girl I couldn't stop grinning. Ok, here it is.

My lowlife future ex-husband is dating a 16 year old!

Ummm...illegal much? (Not that I don't do illegal shit, but I think this rule might be a good one.) Disgusting much? I feel bad for this poor girl. No, I really don't. I should. As a teacher I am appalled, but as a goddamn human I'm appalled too. How skeezy. The reason it made me smile was because it just validated all my feelings about him. He was a fucking loser. Loser. Loser. What a joke. He goes, "All I have to do to keep her happy is buy her a pack of cigarettes once in a while." She sounds perfect for him. Then when he got off the phone he goes, "I've got to go, I've got little girls to fuck." Isn't that sick? And he met her on Myspace. Of course. I think there's a government database that might need his name.

Wow, my brain didn't explode. Right on.

Say my name, say my name...

So every time I hear my last name it makes me want to hurl. Walking around with my soon to be ex-husbands last name is grossing me out. I need to change it, but I don't want to use my maiden name either. My maiden name (like from back when I was a fair maiden? What a stupid archaic thing to call it) is my father's last name and my mom and him split when I was a baby. He is total degenerate and I haven't seen or heard from him in over 15 years. When I was about to get married I was thrilled to get rid of that name, but I cannot stand to use my ex's name for much longer. When I give tours at work and I say my name it's hard to get out of my mouth. I stopped calling myself "Mrs." which was a weird feeling. Do I say Miss? I think that since I was married I am a "Ms." by default.
Anyway, I decided to use my mother's maiden name. It's a cute name and sounds very British. (Well, because it is. It reminds me of Miss Moneypenny from James Bond.) I have been digging around for my birth certificate and I hope that is enough to change my name. My concern is that I'd be changing my name to something I've never been called before, and I don't know if there are extra steps I have to take. Oh boy am I looking forward to fun filled day at the Social Security office! What a horrorshow that place is. I can't wait to get a new driver's license! I never thought I could feel so good, so soon after something that I thought was supposed to be traumatic.

I've returned from restructuring.

So, where have I been? I only have a second to post something, so this will be the Cliffs Notes version of the last month and a half. Mr. Fight and I are totally, totally through. And I feel amazing. I moved out on May 1st after 3 awkward weeks of living together after the initial 5 days of, "get out and stay out." It was hard and scary and lonely, but it was the best choice I ever made. I basically spent some time drugging myself with Valium for a bit and when I came to, I was okay about the whole thing. I wasn't going to look for anyone to be with to take my mind off of my husband, because I've seen girls do that after a bad break up and it always seems to do them more harm than good. I just wanted to be alone and mope and face my fears. It wasn't so bad. I got a job bar tending and I don't have some deadbeat on the couch sucking me dry, so I am not as stressed about cash as I used to be. I mean, I'm still "big picture" poor as shit, but I can pay my rent with ease now, which is nice.
So there I was all content with my choice and feeling okay about everything and the most wonderful and unexpected thing happened. I met someone! Yay! I have never once found someone that I wanted to share my life with when I was looking for someone to share my life with. It felt so right because it was just so natural. I know it seems super fast, but by the time I left Brian, I realized I was already over him. My romantic love had turned into this caregiving love and the husband/wife shit was already long gone. I tried to keep my guard up with the guy I met, but after one day it felt like I had known him a million years. None of the weird awkwardness that can come with a new relationship. I won't go into detail yet, but I feel the happiest I have ever been. He went through a pretty traumatic break up recently and we have a similar perspective on what a relationship should be and what our last ones were missing. I won't gush about him here (yet), but I could. So be happy for me, because my life rules.

Life is short.

I'm not sure how to say any of this or what even I really want to post, but things are deteriorating hard and fast in my home life. My husband and I have talked about getting a divorce and that's really all I'm going to say until I have more of an idea about what's happening. I'd rather not say anything here that I would regret later. There was no single act that made me finally tell him I wasn't happy, but it's been 6 years of hardship and I finally realized that I'm just not that strong. I can't be strong enough for both of us anymore. I'm tired of always being the responsible one.

On Monday of last week we were having a fight about me getting a second job, which is a fight we've had before. His unemployment is going to run out, he hasn't gotten approved for disability yet, so that money is a long way off and I don't make enough to support us even with his unemployment. To support our household, we really need two jobs. If he isn't going to have a job, well that leaves me with getting a second job. The first time I brought it up he-get this-forbade me from doing so. It would be too damaging to his ego. "No wife of mine is going to have two jobs." Well then get off your ass and get a motherfucking job. Even while applying for disability you are allowed to earn up to $900 a month. Uhhhh... that would help! I would have thought the shame of me needing two jobs would be enough to motivate him, but no. So Monday, after realizing we had $24.00 to make it almost 2 weeks for two people, I brought it up again. He got all pissed and crazy and was screaming and told me to get out of his face. So I left and went to a friends house. I came home later that night but we didn't discuss anything. When I came home the next day, we started the same fight, since we never resolve anything because he finds grown-up conversations too upsetting. He'd rather ignore everything. So the fight starts up and this time he says, "I'm out of here." I basically said, don't come back. I hate to play childish games like that. If you leave, you better fucking mean it, or just calmly say that you need some time to think for a while and you're going to go cool off at a buddy's house. I can't deal with the drama queen shit.

After he left he stayed gone for 4 days and 5 nights, but then in a moment of total loneliness and weakness, I let him come home. I have taxes that have to be done that I need him for and his name is on the lease, so I can't really throw him out, but he knows that just because he is physically in the house, does not mean things are okay. It's weird because it isn't like I hate him. I'm just not happy and after 6 years, I don't ever see anything changing. We are who we are. I felt like after 6 years of eating shit, I am just all full. It was weird like I hit a brick wall. I was fine, fine, fine, then bam. I had a "what the fuck am I thinking" moment. It was like a switch got flipped inside me and my capacity to take his bullshit was maxed out. Sure it rocked his world, because in his mind, he's like, "What's the problem? I always act like this." And I'm thinking, that's the fucking problem. I feel dead inside. Used up. Like a hollow shell of the girl I used to be.

So basically this was the long way of saying, "I'm smoking again".

Wordful Wednesday

This was my last pack of cigarettes.

I've decided to quit smoking. I've done it before and I think this time it's going to stick. I started smoking around 4 years ago and I quit after getting sick last February. I was laid up in bed with a horrible virus and by the time I stopped puking, it had been 3 days since I had a cigarette, so I figured I quit. It was not hard for me to get over the initial quitting, but it was hard for me to stay quit. My husband smoked around me all the time and eventually, I caved. First it was one or two a week, then day, then I was back. I didn't start up again until July, so it's only been 8 months. Hopefully that helps. What I think is going to help the most is that this time, my husband is quitting. He decided to quit on his own, which is a positive thing because I know you can't quit til you're ready. We need the money. It costs between $400-$500 a month for a couple to smoke. That's fucking stupid.

Don't get me wrong, I LOVED smoking. I truly enjoyed it. I just like money more. So, it's been 9 hours and thirty two minutes since my last cigarette, and I feel fine. Mr. Fight and I decided we are going to treat ourselves with gifts equal to the amount of money we would have spent on cigarettes to keep us motivated at first. I'd say, "Wish me luck", but luck has nothing to do with it. I'm a tough cookie and I refuse to let something like cigarettes be the boss of me. I know I'm stronger than that.

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