A question unasked

So I finally got my divorce certificate last month. Yay, hurray, done! Now anyone who knows me also knows I have been leery about the idea of being married again. But then you same people also know just how in love and devoted to Mr. O I am. I won't go on in ridiculous drivel but let's just say I'm still trying to figure out how I won the relationship lottery.

So what's the problem you may ask? What trouble is sullying paradise? Why is she asking these ridiculous questions? Well you're going to laugh...

I'm upset he hasn't proposed yet.

Yes, you read that right, I'm acting like an emo teen who hasn't got the attention of the boy she hides from, because Mr. O hasn't got down on one knee and asked me to get hitched.

We discuss marriage, he knows I'm not going to say no (well probably not), hell he even tried to ask my older brother for his blessing but got nervous and didn't. And of course I'm reading all sorts of stupid crap into this. He doesn't love me enough, he feels he doesn't have to, I'm not good enough. As I say CRAP that my gremlins like to sling at me like monkeys and their poo.

I mean I don't even want a big wedding. I want a fluffy dress, a few close friends and a BBQ, I don't even want my family within a 50 mile radius.

So someone please explain to me why this matters after all we have been through together?

Holding My Breath

So 3 weeks ago the divorce papers were re-filed with the court. The ex contested divorce based on wanting to pay less child support. The kicker? He ended up paying more. He finagled it by telling my lawyer he had to take 6 weeks off after his heart surgery so he could pay the same as before. I didn't question it because the last time he had heart surgery that was he recovery time. I called him a week later and he as at work :P Frankly I'm more worried about him dropping dead than I care about the child support. I do not want my daughter losing her father and frankly I don't want to lose him either. We may be an awful married couple and I may have a hard time liking him some days I but do still care about him.

What I do hate is I'm going on 3 years of limbo. Three years of wanting to say my name, not his when people ask for my full name. I never wanted to change it but I did to make him happy. I'm planning on hypenating my daughter's name so she can be connected to both of us. I'm hoping he doesn't come up with some reason to contest it again. It's already costing 3 times what it should have and I've had to cancel our family vacation this year because of it.

I still struggle with my daughter, I can't tell her I left her father because he smokes enough pot to supply a hippy sit in at Berkley and never respected me and would throw a fit if he didn't get his way. I can't tell her he refused to change her diaper for 4 months, that he never wanted to hold her or play with her, that it took me leaving for him to give a rats ass about her. So I tell her we couldn't stop fighting and we didn't respect each other enough to listen anymore.

I love you my Starlet and so does your Daddy. I'm sorry I had to walk away.

Silly Things in My Eye

I have been participating for the last year and a half in a 365 photo project Envisage 365 and will be joining the sister project Photographic State as it starts it's second year. My dear best friend and partner is also participating. I am looking forward to seeing the world through his eyes more. Envisage introduced me to a wickedly fabulous group of women and I have to say I haven't connected to a group of people like this in a long time. Especially a group of WOMEN. Sadly in the same group I have had to let some relationships go. I have been accused of not giving said person a chance, but as selfish as this may sound I put my feelings first. I watched the fall out from this and the childishness and the viciousness that erupted and decided "No I am not trying to fix this, I am letting it go." And trust me I did not behave in a manner suiting an adult either but I'm cognoscente of this at least. Once upon a time I would of done all manner of placating and apologizing and attempts to "fix" things. This time I took a deep breath and said "I am stepping back and I am doing what feels right for me, not the nice thing." And frankly? It felt freeing. So now I go forward with the misfit gang and wait to see what emerges.

My New Years Resolutions... Day 1

So here is the list and laughably so far one has already blown up in my face:

1) Be more active. (yeah who doesn't have this one?)
2) Be nicer to my best friend and stop enabling
3) Stop reminding/checking up/helping my ex with the things in our daughter's life (I kept to it today and he forgot her snowpants, school "pet" and her favourite doll. I used this an oppotunity to teach her it's up to her to remember her stuff so not a complete fail)
4) Blog once a week
5) Make Saturday my day to update my photos

Let's see how this goes...

Technically a Mommy Blogger

So I guess I'm technically a mommy blogger... though considering I have a following of 1, I'm actually just talking to myself most of the time. I want to write, but the question is who am I writing for? Most "mommy" types would be horrified by me and my life... heck I'm not even a mommy, I'm a mummy. (Long story of British upbringing that would have you face down snoring on the keyboard before I got to the second sentence) I loathe the whole eco-mom superiority complex, and though I do try to be eco minded. I find the helicopter parenting of my 5 year old daughter's classmates horrifying. I mean I'm the mum who lets her face plant off the climbling structure and tells her to "walk it off". I make her do her own class projects rather than producing the wicked master pieces I see in her class that I will boldly tell you were done by no five year old I ever met, unless you know 5 year olds who can mix plaster of paris to the right consistancy and not poison themselves in the process. See? I'm a cynical lady who volunteers just the right amount of time at school not to get in trouble with school council, because the other mothers scare me. I know most of the "Super Mommy" routine is smoke and mirrors and they are flying by the seat of their pants as much as I am but find it too much work to do my own song and dance routine.

My Vampire Clan

My avatar on this site is the clan symbol from the World of Darkeness Vampire game for a bloodline of vampires called Malkavians. Malkavians are in short crazy. They are all cursed (or blessed in some of their eyes) to carry some sort of pychosis for eternity. When I was first introduced to the game I thought the clan was stupid and dismissed it prefering to play an emo, tortured soul, artistic Toreador. Think Edward from Twilight, yeah I was young. But after my father died when I was 19 and my world went side ways, I ended up heavily medicated and in therapy. There was more to it than just my father's death but it was what finally brought me up short and made me look into myself. And as a result of rebuilding my sanity I began to understand why people played Malkavians. I learned to use the game and the clan to help me work through my issues, to own my depression and to open myself up to who I was. Over the years I have played in many a game and story told a few and I have always brought in this clan to show people things that "sane" people might prefer not to see, to tell my story without actually putting myself out there. Several years ago a friend bestowed upon me the title the Goddess of Madness because I "knew more than I should about the crazy side of life" I wear that title with pride and I keep it up in front of me to remind me of the times when crazy was my bedfellow.

Mama's Girls Need a New Home

I'm sitting on the couch...I'm supposed to be napping and trying to anilhate this chest cold but I digress. Anyway, I'm sitting on the couch in my yoga pants and bra... and gods I hate the sight of this worn out, ill fitting garment that is supposed to be making my girls more attractive. My mother very rarely bought new bras, in fact my mother very rarely bought new anything until she absolutely had to. I understand as a child of post-war Europe where her behavior stems from. But why do I choose to follow this same behavior I have no clue. And what makes it stranger is I will drop a stupid amount of cash on a purse and occasionally shoes but not bras. I have a drawerful of these sad, sad garments that in no way fit or flatter. And then when I do break down and go shopping I end up buying the cheapest thing I can find. It's as though I have an unconcious vendetta against my boobs. I feel I need to apologize to them.