Trial and Error

For me, life after divorce is very much trial and error. There really almost isn't any other way it could be. Because I married Brad so young all of my adult dreams, goals, and ambitions were OUR goals, dreams, and ambitions. I never bothered to create any dreams that didn't include him. (Go ahead and lambaste me all you feminists, but be kind and remember I was young and naive please) When we split, I didn't just lose Brad, but I lost my roadmap of how my life was supposed to unfold, pretty much dumping me in the this alternate Bermuda triangle world that I was completely inept at navigating. As time went on, I learned through trial and error what things worked for just me - not me as half of StephanieAndBrad - but me only. For the first time in pretty much forever, I had to think somewhat selfishly and figure out what worked for me in decisions big and small. Along the way were some pretty funny errors.

Letting my gas tank get perilously low while just expecting some miraculous husband stunt double to come running and fill it - Error.

Continuing to run my checking account like my ex was still paying my bills and the rest was just 'spending money' - Error.

Thinking I am super cool because I can eat dinner at ten o'clock at night if I want now - and then getting sick at two in the morning because I am too old for pretending that I still have the iron stomach of a twenty year old - Error.

Believing that my grass will just stop growing once it gets to a certain height and then stay that way until winter so I don't need to mow it anymore - Error.

Really believing that single men are interested in a tour of my house because they want to see what I've done with the place - Error.

Thinking that once we were split, all the drama with Brad was at least finally over - Error.

Using the strategy of staying in my house all day as a way to make a day never happen - Error.

Throwing out all my dishes in favor of paper plates because it would make life easier and less stressful - Error.

Trusting my feelings and thoughts to people that I only saw when I was drinking or dancing - Error.

Saying exactly what I thought, exactly when I thought it, to any random stranger to emphasize how much better stark honesty is - Error.

Continuing to try new things, forgiving myself for my (many) mistakes, laughing at life and those many mistakes, and believing that life truly unfolds that way that it is meant to be.....I'll get back to you...

I Am Thankful For....

1. I am thankful that because I am single, I don't have to rush around on Thanksgiving. I spent years trying to negotiate coordinating dinner times, organize what dish to pass where, and jam-pack my turkey day from sun up to sun down. Getting up this morning and vegging in my pjs because I don't have to be anywhere is pretty priceless.

2. I am thankful that I get to do everything my way. I know that sounds awful, but that is probably just because you are being grouchy because you have to compromise something. It's okay. But in my house today....all is quiet, my holiday music is on, my turkey is being cooked the way I want with no interference, my candles are all lit, and life is incredibly peaceful. I want to spend my early afternoon curled up on the sofa with a comfy blanket and a good book - so that is what I am going to do. Happy Thanksgiving to me!


3. I am thankful for holiday television. The parade, the beginnings of holiday festivities, but mostly for Charlie Brown holiday specials. Sitting down to watch cartoons is great for putting life into perspective. And I have a certain fondness for Lucy. With her single mindedness, her domineering and slightly bossy ways....Lucy may remind me, in a teensy way, of myself. Although I would eventually let poor Charlie kick the football. Probably.

4. I am thankful for my Jens...the real one and the pretend one. Especially to the real one for helping me out on a busy holiday (she is one of those balancing family people mentioned in point #1 haha...) with a special shout out to her hubbie who refused to let me cave to pressure from my mother to boil a ham. You guys rock.

5. I am thankful for my puppies, who are both currently cuddled up on the couch up against my legs. Non-dog people will not understand this, but the unconditional love of an animal is a marvelous gift. When I was young and dumb, they were there. When I was married and clueless, they were there. When I was divorced and unhappy, they were there. Now that I am single and happy, they are still there. That is why they get special turkey day treats.

6. I am thankful for my amazing circle of friends. I have so many people that care about me and are part of my life. I am blessed to have all of them there for me on a rough Saturday night - although some of them really should probably reel me in from time to time.

7. I am incredibly thankful to my family. More so than I can explain with words in this blog. Most families are not like mine. I hear stories all the time of siblings that don't talk, parents that write their kids off, and families that rarely see each other. While sometimes it can be crazy to have a sibling or parent in my business all the time (I love you all, but I speak the truth here), that also means that at every down moment in life there is someone there for me. That support and faith and love has truly brought me to the place that I am today. No girl was ever luckier.

I Call My Guardian Angel Delilah

I sometimes think that I am really wearing out my guardian angel. All the other angels are floating, singing, and keeping half an eye on their charges. Mine is the one charging around, dripping sweat, and cutting deals with other angels to keep me in one piece. (Which I so appreciate, by the way, Delilah)

Last week was a toughie. ( I wish that I could insert music notes in here and fake sing the "iiiits a tough-ie" television jingle at this point, but I am not tech savvy enough to pull that off.) I mentioned that Brad was on my shit list last week one day - and now he has climbed to the top of the list, picked up all the other candidates and thrown them off the list. He wants the list all to himself apparently. One of the cons of being in touch with an ex is that they really, really know how to push your buttons. Thus why I should remove my buttons from his reach really. Again, lesson learning the hard way....

So, after my buttons were pushed I proceeded to follow standard operating procedure and make a few bad choices. We don't really need to get into those exact choices, I am all about not embarrassing myself further than I already have to this point. Although I will say that pizza really doesn't qualify as a bad choice if you take it ingredient by ingredient. Just saying. And I do wish that over indulging in pepperoni was the worst of my bad choices. Unfortunately.....no. However, let's not dwell on my idiotic moments. I already paid my price for my mild debauchery. (It was roughly eighty bucks and about two hours of time that, sadly, I can never get back.) After a suitable wallowing period, I am moving on...

And here is my moving on song. I have a hard time forgiving myself for my mistakes - which would probably surprise my exes since I do tend to always think I am right. This song is by a Christian group called Point of Grace called 'Heal the Wound'. It just reminds me that we are all only human. We all make our own mistakes, learn our own lessons, and then build on them to become the person we are meant to be.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hy7I5gMEKEQ

.....hmmm, I tried to embed this but, as previously mentioned, tech savvy I am not. You will just have to old-fashioned cut and paste - enjoy!




I used to wish that I could rewrite history
I used to dream that each mistake could be erased
Then I could just pretend
I never knew the me back then

I used to pray that You would take this shame away
Hide all the evidence of who I've been
But it's the memory of
The place You brought me from
That keeps me on my knees
And even though I'm free

Heal the wound but leave the scar
A reminder of how merciful You are
I am broken, torn apart
Take the pieces of this heart
And heal the wound but leave the scar

I have not lived a life that boasts of anything
I don't take pride in what I bring
But I'll build an altar with
The rubble that You've found me in
And every stone will sing
Of what You can redeem

Heal the wound but leave the scar
A reminder of how merciful You are
I am broken, torn apart
Take the pieces of this heart
And heal the wound but leave the scar

Don't let me forget
Everything You've done for me
Don't let me forget
The beauty in the suffering

Heal the wound but leave the scar
A reminder of how merciful You are
I am broken, torn apart
Take the pieces of this heart
And heal the wound but leave the scar

What Girl Doesn't Want An Almost Army Man?

Amusing Online Email of the Week:

"I must say that I am joining the army for a wile so it is not really the best of times to start any kind of relationship but that is my main goal in life to find the one person that I will want to spend the rest of my life with. I am a hopeless romantic looking for my story book ending. I love to be touched as much as I love to touch."


Commentary:

1. W H I L E

2. If it's not a good time....WHY are you emailing me? Hmmm....maybe you explain further in your email....let me keep reading....

3. Ohhhhhh....you love to touch and be touched.....combined with the earlier 'not a good time' comment.....

Obviously this man is just an amateur masseuse looking for a practice partner, right?

The Annulment: Do I or Don't I?

That is the question. For today anyway.

Here's the scoop. This blog will be equal parts funny and contemplative. This blog will not be factual or referenced or anything other than my feelings and opinions on the annulment process and my place in it. No hate mail from anyone because I question Church policies, including my mother. Especially my mother. (Mom, that includes guilt emails as well just in case you are wondering. My mother wields guilt like Thomas Jefferson flourished a quill. Love you Mom!) I have many different thoughts on whether or not I should go forward with the annulment process, so buckle up and get ready.

First, an amusing side story. (You know you love my tangents!) Brad has always opposed us getting an annulment. He just doesn't like the idea of us saying that our marriage wasn't valid. Which I find half sweet, because he doesn't want to pretend it didn't happen - and half hypocritical, because if he wanted it to be so valid and real then maybe he should have thought of that earlier and matched his actions to that sentiment. Back to today. I text messaged Brad to ask if he still would try and thwart my attempt to get an annulment because I have plans to meet with my priest and I just wanted to know where Brad stood, so that I knew the whole picture going into this meeting. In what is a very typical response, I don't get an answer, just a bunch of questions and sass. And he calls me Jen. Now, I knew that eventually he'd find his way here to my all knowing and all telling blog - and I'm ok with that. (Hi Brad! :) ) I am not embellishing anything or telling any lies - I am just telling my side of the story, and he is welcome to read if he likes. Here is what I found funny...he called me Jen to be snide and mean spirited...but I think it's great! Thanks for the compliment! Jen is gorgeous, healthy, sexy, and frankly...awesome! In fact, I think she is way more amazing post-Brad! So Brad dear, feel free to call me Jen whenever you like.

Ok, slightly off track....anyway the end result of my mini-text-a-thon with Brad is that he tries to tell me that if he agrees to not oppose the annulment, we're even. Even?? Really?? And yes, he is serious. He really thinks that by not fighting me on this, that makes up for everything that has happened. Now, I am not going to tell you all of those things that have happened because this blog is not about making Brad look evil. I am just going to tell you that in my book an affair that pretty much tornadoed my life does not equate with not fighting me on being able to remarry in church some day. End result? I tell him to do what he wants and I continue on my evening of endless errand running. You really don't need a partner's cooperation get an annulment, but it might the process a little harder. But hey, I always do things the hard way anyway, right? Gotta keep with a theme....

So there is the amusing portion - now on to the tougher stuff. Here are my reasons FOR getting an annulment:

1. I truly believe that I deserve one. I honestly did everything I could think of to try and make my marriage work. In the end, you need two people trying, and nothing that I could have done was going to change the end result. I should get points for effort though.

2. In an ideal world, the owner of a pair of fantastic shoulders that I meet is going to be Catholic. He may very well want to be married in the Church and I want that to be an option for him.

3. It is important to my parents - which means it will ease their minds and pave the way for my future hunky shoulders husband. Less conflict is always good.

BUT....here are my reasons AGAINST the annulment:

1. It is a very intrusive process. I need to give complete strangers all the inner workings of my failed marriage and our childhoods. This includes details and my feelings about everything, including our sex life. This makes me uncomfortable, to say the least.

2. I do not want to dig back into all the heartbreak of the past. We have been split for over five years, and it took me a long time to deal with all of it. I truly don't want to have to experience and examine all of those emotions over again when I feel like I have finally really made my peace with it all.

3. I don't necessarily agree with the entire idea of annulments. At least not the process the way it is. I have two points on this and then I'll subside. First, the Catholic Church let me get married purely on the basis of a baptismal certificate and a one day Engaged Encounter seminar. That is all I had to do and I was ready for marriage in the eyes of the Church. But to UNmarry I have to basically expose my soul to perfect strangers and await their judgement. It seems to me that this is a little bit unbalanced. My second issue with this is that my relationship with God is highly personal. He knows better than anyone the ways that I tried to twist myself to make my marriage work - and I don't believe that He needs an annulment paper from the tribunal to see what is in my heart. This whole process just feels judgemental to me - which should be the antithesis of Christian living. This is really a sticky issue for me, because I don't want to go through this whole process for the sake of other people's thoughts and beliefs. I need to see how this is going to continue to move me forward, and right now all I see is how it is going to take me back.

So I'm going to tackle it like I tackle everything in life - find more information. Whenever I start any new project, hobby, and travel plan - I research. I know, I am such a nerd. But a book in my hand and facts in my head make me breathe easy. So that is my plan forward....research, research, research....and hopefully find a way forward.

So You Think You Want A Book

First off, I want to sincerely thank all of you that have followed all my crazy tangents and misadventures. My mind travels down funny rabbit holes from time to time and it is nice to know that you all like to travel with me! I have always loved to write and I really appreciate all of you that love to read it. :)

Now, the scolding part. Sign up people! It's just a free Google account and it takes maybe three minutes. I know of at least ten of you that read all my blogs and yet Jennifer is my only follower. (Thank you Jennifer! You are exempt from this chastising) If I can't even get people to sign up to follow my blog, then I am not convinced that I could get people to actually buy a book. Of course, I know Jennifer would buy it, but who would buy the other six copies? As an extra bonus, if you were all signed up then you would no longer be anonymous commenters and I could know who was who. Also, it is hard for me to hold my head up at blogspot with only one follower. The other bloggers are picking on me and calling me names....

So here is the deal. One of my favorite bloggers just got picked up by some type of site that is paying him to write his blog on their site because of all the good traffic and buzz around his blog. He has 79 followers. If I get to 80 followers, then I will start to write a book. I want to be more popular than him, even though he writes a perfectly nice blog - I like to win. (This is a one of those things that I love about myself that is probably really a flaw I should work on) So you have your mission. Find me 79 more followers to join the brave pioneer Jennifer and I will give you a book. Seems like a pretty good deal to me.

The Inappropriate Age Gap

Today I had my first cougar moment. Now, I do believe that I am still too young at thirty to have real cougar moments, but this is definitely as close as I have ever come.

To begin with, there is nothing about young men that I find attractive - so I am shocked that this even happened! If I stop to give a young man a thought, it is usually along the lines of 'awww...aren't you cute?' Kind of like they are overgrown puppies hopped up on testosterone and machismo. Physically, I like my men to be men. Fully filled out, stocky, throw me over their shoulder.....if I were about thirty pounds lighter of course....but you get the point. I want a man with some meat on his bones. With their breakable, skinny limbs, narrow ribcages and cherub faces, younger men just don't do it for me. With that said....

Today was name tag day in church. Every few months or so, at Holy Trinity they have us wear name tags so we can meet some of the people around us. The idea being that you see all these people all the time - why don't you make friends? So to start off Mass, the priest has us turn to our neighbors and introduce each other. I had vaguely registered that a group of younger kids had sat behind us so I turned around to shake hands with this kid who was probably about twenty at the oldest. More likely 18 or 19. Again, my thought was 'hello cute puppy.' Then he introduced himself in a voice that could make serious money working the phones as an phone sex operator. You know what I mean here - the kind of deep, sexy voice that makes your ovaries wake up and dance. The kind of gravelly voice that makes you immediately stop and offer up a prayer of thanksgiving that you are a woman. That kind of voice. How is it possible that this kid had a voice like THAT??? So for the first half of Mass I sat there and wondered if he really wasn't that young, maybe I just initially misjudged his age at first? After all, this happens to me all time - people always think I am younger than I am. (By the way, thank you God for that - I really appreciate it!) Unfortunately, my initial opinion was correct though - young puppy. I just couldn't look at him and think anything else. Maybe I will just have to call him every now and then and let him tell me a bedtime story.....

Quick Friday Funny Story....

So my BFF Jen (the real one) is always on the lookout for good, upstanding, nice men with good shoulders for me. Today she came over to pick up her son, who was shopping with me, and started telling me all about this great guy that she knows. He has a son that goes to her school and he's a great dad...super sweet guy who got a raw deal....and so forth. Of course my answer was - size up his shoulders and then let me know if you think he'd pass and then we'll go from there.

That isn't the funny part of the story.

The funny part is then she told me his name. And he is someone I already know. Small, small world. For the sake of amusement we are going to call him Henry. And the funniest thing is that I would never have described him the way she did because I already had preconceived ideas of him. Of course, these are opinions that I formed twelve years ago in high school - since that is the last time I've seen or talked to him. I am sure they are no longer valid - I am definitely not the girl I was in high school, so it stands to reason that he isn't either. He is also someone I would never have thought about dating. Not because he's awful or ugly or mean.....it just never crossed my mind that we would have anything in common. He is just someone I knew vaguely from forever ago that found me on Facebook. Funny how all things circle around again.

The Story of John Black

John Black is the man that I probably should have met in a year or two. Of course, I actually met him roughly six months after Brad and I split and I really don't regret it. It is just that I think any relationship that follows so closely on the heels of a ruined marriage is doomed. And ours was. In so many ways he helped me heal and move on, but it was totally at the expense of our own relationship.

If you ask John Black, he will tell you that I am amazing. He will tell you that our relationship crumbled under the weight of dealing with my family and Brad. Of course, he probably would use different word choices than the ones that I just did. And he's right. My family was a big factor, but while I accepted it, he couldn't. He just couldn't see past the moment to realize their point of view.

When Brad and I split, it didn't just affect me. It affected my family, too. When Brad and I started dating, my siblings were young. My baby sister was only two when we met. In a very real sense, he was like a brother to all of them. Then suddenly not only was he not around, but he had done some truly awful things that they just couldn't believe he had done. It was hard to handle. Adding to that was the realization for my parents that I was going to be divorced - which is no small deal in my family. The whole breakdown of my marriage was so fast that it stunned everyone. In December of 2003 Brad and I were trying to get pregnant. Two months later I find out about his affair. December of 2004 was my first Christmas with John Black, who I had met December 4th. It was a lot to ask my family to process and probably too much for me to handle - in hindsight, of course. In the moment I was just so happy to have found someone when months early I had been terrified I never would. To me, John Black filled in every missing piece that I had. But I wasn't ready. And that is truly why it failed. So Lesson 34 about life after divorce - don't rush into another relationship. You may ruin something that could have been amazing if you would just have waited.

Even though it didn't work out, I have amazing stories about John Black - some of which I will share eventually and some of which I will hug to myself. Here is my very favorite story - one I bet he wouldn't even remember but I always think about this as a turning point in my life. First journey back with me briefly to Brad - when he admitted his affair he told me it was my fault. He told me that he just wasn't attracted to me because he liked petite, short, skinny girls - so he just had to have an affair. That sounds so ridiculous now- I have never been petite or skinny and yet he married me. And I guaranty there was no attraction problem. But back when he was telling me this, I was already so beaten down that I just accepted it. I remember feeling so awful about myself for a long time, thinking that if I had just been skinnier then he wouldn't have cheated. Bullshit, of course, but I wasn't rational.

Fast forward to John Black. We are laying in bed in comfy clothes on a Sunday afternoon watching football. We are cuddled up and he moved his hand to rest on my stomach - of course I immediately tried to move it to some less jiggly part of my body. He asked me what I was up to, so I told him it made me uncomfortable to have him touching my flabby belly. He pulled my shirt up over my stomach and laid both hands on my belly and told me to stop being ridiculous, that he loved my belly because it was part of me and he loved me. I will stop the story there because I am sure you don't need to know the rest, but his complete acceptance of all of me was something I never had with Brad - ever. And that one comment has stayed with me always. And yes, I realize it sounds completely corny, but it is completely representative of my relationship with John Black. Despite all the nonsense and the way we ended up - we both truly accepted each other for who were were, flaws and all. It was a lesson I needed to learn. John Black - you are a good egg.

The Loss of the Secret Keeper

So last night I had a big secret. A secret of monumental proportions. A secret that was threatening to explode my brain if I didn't talk to someone as soon as I could get my hands on my cell phone. As soon as I left where I was (which I'm not telling because it's a secret of course) I immediately grabbed my phone to call.......no one.

Being married automatically gives you a person to tell everything to. (I completely just ended that sentence with a preposition, but I have always hated that rule anyway and couldn't come up with a better way to finish it quickly - so deal.) No exceptions. When they say "for better or for worse" that also means "and with all my good gossip and juicy scandals". It is unwritten, understood marriage law. Everyone who has been in a serious relationship knows exactly what I mean here. Brad and I had zero secrets (other than the whole affair of course, small peanuts really) and our end of day recap before bed regularly consisted of swapping stories about people that we heard throughout the day. On a small tangent.....you would think that because I am the woman that I would be the big instigator of this tradition - you would be wrong. Brad gossiped like a little, old, blue-haired lady at the hairdressers. Anyway, anything that was told to either of us was fair game to the other one - without exception. We may not have admitted that to every friend or acquaintance, but that is how it was. And it wasn't just a random habit between Brad and I - my following relationship with notorious John Black had the same deal. We were a team - and as a team we had an obligation to share information. Because I was with Brad for eight years and then on and off with John Black for three more years - this is really the first year I haven't had an official secret keeper.

The hard part about having a secret keeper when single is that secret keepers really can't be just good friends. Especially good married or dating friends. And here's why: They are already some one's secret keeper! They already have allegiance to someone other than you. They are bound to share all good gossip and juicy scandal with that person. (see above) Therefore YOUR secret is now shared material. There is no way around it - that is the code. I can call up one of my sisters or friends and share my dirt BUT they are completely going to turn around and share my dirt with their husband or boyfriend. Which is how it should be, but it makes it hard for a single girl to find a good secret keeper. In the past I have used Brad as a temporary secret keeper, but not only is that probably not very healthy but he is also on my shit list this week - so no big secret for him. I do confess to venting to John Black this morning a bit, but he does have a girlfriend so I can only carry that so far before I feel like I am stepping on toes. So the search is on for a new secret keeper, preferably one with great shoulders. I am thinking of holding auditions.....

Pollyanna meets Midland St.

To say that I was unprepared for dating after Brad would be a gross understatement. Every unscrupulous man in the bar that was worth his salt had me pegged as an easy target the minute I stepped into the building. Maybe the minute I stepped out of my car actually. The root of my dating hilarity is all because of this. Half my dating after divorce stories wouldn't even be funny if I were a typical jaded barhopper instead of the starry eyed optimist that I was - and let's be honest - mostly still am.

Here's the background. To begin with, I was the oldest child of an extremely protective household. Other kids in high school had curfews - I didn't go out. I didn't party, I didn't drink, I didn't date. That does sound like my parents locked me in a dungeon, but in reality I was just cocooned from many things that other kids experienced in high school. (Thanks Mom by the way. I DO appreciate it now that I am older and fully intend to torment my own children in exactly the same way one day) BUT....this did not make me a very informed dating diva.

Act Two: I meet Brad my senior year. We fall in passionate teenage love. You know, the kind where you think if you don't see each other every day you will literally die. Simply stop breathing if you can't breathe the same pocket of air. Every teenage cliche? Completely true. We were so silly sometimes. I remember standing in front of my parents house next to his dad's truck one night when he dropped me home. We were crying (oh yeah...brad too...he was a weeper at one point before he went AWOL ) and we were crying because - get this - basketball season was starting. Yup. Because with his practices, we wouldn't be able to see each other every single night and we were worried as to how we would ever make it through. Well, we did survive basketball. Just not waitresses and hormones.(that was slightly snide but it made me giggle a little so I'm leaving it in) So Act Two ends with me falling in love with my first real boyfriend right out of high school.

Fast forward five years and we are dodging rice hand in hand as we run to the limo. Actually, you can't throw rice at weddings anymore, did you know that? Apparently it's bad for the environment. (Isn't it a plant? How can this even be really? ) I just used that first line to paint a typical wedding picture so you knew where I was going. In reality we walked pretty slowly to the stretch expedition that Brad insisted on having because he wanted to use his cane. (yup, cane...complete with top hat AND white gloves....see what a good wife I was?) Anyway...way off tangent here. The point of this is that I married my highschool sweetheart and pretty much avoided the entire dating circuit and barhopping initiations. When everyone else my age was figuring out where their limits were and how to step over them, I was setting up my 401K and making mortgage payments. (Although to be fair, Brad was in charge of that since I am pretty much awful when it comes to managing my money)
Add into this mix the fact that I am, at heart, the kind of person that wants to believe the best about everyone - and you can imagine the experiences that I had when I finally took my first steps on the dating scene. But you don't have to! Because I am going to tell you most of them eventually! Lucky you!

The person that had to have enjoyed these first few weeks the most must have been my sister, Emily. It really must have been somewhat like watching a toddler play in traffic when we first started going out. A toddler that was slugging on Jack, of course, because that's how Polish toddlers roll. I remember my first inkling that this may not be the spot for placing unearned trust. Emily and I had been dancing at Westtown in Bay City - and we had met a handful of men towards the end of the night. Last call came around and these guys kept talking about after parties and I was all for it. Because at this point in time, my only goal was to put off going to sleep until I just fell over exhausted so I could mark one more day off my calender. So I offered up my house and started talking about playing cards....now, I meant play cards. Euchre, smear, go fish... They thought I meant "play cards", so there was understandably some confusion when we all ended up back at my house and the night didn't end the way that they had imagined. To this day I still am not sure if Emily was aware of the misconception all along and just enjoying my Pollyanna outlook and the guys reactions. Needless to say, I learned fairly quickly to be extremely specific in my conversations from that point on.

I would like to say that this was the first and last time that I was naive and trusting of the wrong people, but then I wouldn't have more stories to share later, would I? While my outlook did get me into situations that could have turned out better, that is part of who I am. I wouldn't change it if I could. The difference now is that I acknowledge that there is a way a situation could go bad - but the Pollyanna in me is still rooting for the happier ending.

Can Brad and Jen really ever be friends again?

Is it true? Do we really believe all the gossip about Brad and Jen being secret buddies again behind Angelina's back? (I told you I read all the gossip mags with Jen on the cover) Do we even believe it is true that ex's can be friends? I am uncertain.

Technically, I am friends with my Brad. By 'technically' I mean that it depends on when you ask me. We split almost six years ago now, and in the intervening years we have ignored each other, been best friends, wanted to strangle each other, engaged in some drunken reconnecting....all trying to find a balance in what we are. (Ok, maybe the drunken reconnecting was less about balance and more about familiarity and Jack Daniels...but the rest of it? That is all about balance for sure.)

Funny situations pop up when you are friends with an ex - and by funny, I mean funny to me. Brad usually doesn't find them funny at all. Here is one of my favorite examples. Brad and I separated six years ago but our divorce was just final a few months ago. So to annoy him, when we would hang out and run into people I would introduce myself as his wife. Technically true, but no one in his modern day life even knew he'd been married because Brad is a consummate manipulator of the truth. So he tried to pretend that I didn't exist and in return I would smile, shake the hand of some girl he was interested in, and introduce myself as his wife. See? I find it funny. Brad....not so much.

Another funny situation? Every time Brad and I hang out, we run into a member of his family. It's almost to the point where we are walking into a restaurant and we can make bets on which cousin we will see that night. I am sure that his family for years has probably thought that we were pretending to be getting a divorce and secretly still together. (Except his sister of course, because she gets to hear my rants when he really pisses me off) Now if I am alone, I never run into these same people, only when we are together...life is just funny.


In all honesty, I don't expect that Brad and I will stay friends once either of us finds themselves in serious situation with someone else. I did have a pretty serious boyfriend after we split up and when I was with him (let's call my boyfriend John Black, for reasons only known to him and me) Brad and I were out of contact except for extreme emergencies. And it was good. I was happy and content without the ex-friendship of Brad. Since John Black and I parted ways, my friendship with Brad has started again. But I think it is pretty obvious to both of us that we are just each other's back up buddy. Being friends with someone from your past means that you are constantly reminded of all the things you did wrong then and the kind of person that you were then. (And I don't know about y'all, but I was pretty naive and pretty silly back then. I am way cooler now!) All the things that we had in common before are pretty much gone and our friendship is almost solely fueled by a shared history. Anytime I think that anything is different about him, I am disappointed. In the long run.......yeah, still uncertain. I better call Jen and ask her what we should do.

I Don't Like Fish

Photos that men should NOT use on dating sites.....trust me, I'm a woman, these aren't doing you any favors~

Pictures you took of yourself in the mirror in your bathroom with your cell phone. In this day and age, who doesn't have a digital picture of themselves somewhere? Or a good friend to at least take a picture of them in a room other than the one that they pee in? I fear these men. And I don't email them.

Pictures of yourself holding huge fish. I don't know why this is a common picture pose for guys, but it seems to be. Me manly man. Me catch big fish. You likee?? No likee. I am not looking for a man that can provide fresh seafood for my table. I can catch my own fish. ( Actually, this isn't true. I have only ever caught one fish in my entire life. It was a four inch long injured catfish that Emily had just caught and tossed back in - apparently it didn't swim away fast enough. BUT - this is all just a metaphor anyway. And I can catch my own metaphoric fish.)

Pictures of yourself without a shirt on. This includes all flexing shots, shots of you hanging shirtless while cooking (??), and shots of you smiling at your own abs. How many first dates do you go on shirtless? Hi, nice to meet you, how you like my pecs? It just isn't the natural order of things and it has significant creep factor.

Pictures of you hugging on women. I would have thought this one was a no brainer, but apparently not. Unless you are labeling them saying how awesome your sister is - then you give a very specific impression about the kind of guy you are - and I can find that kind of guy at the bar on any night of the week.

***All true pictures that surfaced in my inbox this week. I swear, I can't make this stuff up.