Here is the link for Season Two - the new blogging adventure from moi....I hope you all follow me over there and enjoy round two as much as you did the first one! :)
http://thiswomansview18.blogspot.com/
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
The End.
Welcome to the season finale of Divorce Isn't For Sissies. In a shocking and abrupt plot twist, I am killing myself off. I know, I know...right now all you can think is "how is she going to carry on the blog for season two without herself?" I feel like Shonda Rimes right now. (who is supposedly killing off a major character on Private Practice next month?!? I am praying for Naomi, but fear that it is Pete. Sad, sad day) Unlike Shonda, I will be slightly more talkative regarding my reasoning and provide you with a little tiny bit of insight before dangling season two in front of you with an appropriate amount of mystery.
To put it most simply, I have outgrown my post-divorce rantings. Divorce remains one of the ugliest things to have touched my life and by no means am I saying that it is any less awful. But at some point in life the best thing to do with the ugly is to leave it behind and that is what I am going to do now. Sharing my journey with you when I was dating was fun - I got to mix my current stories up with my funny older stories. It was also cathartic. I benefited from sharing with you and seeing my stories through your eyes. Lately I have had to dig deep to find real angst to fuel new divorce stories though. I have pretty much run through my supply of bitter and bitchy.
I knew that it was time to end this particular blog topic after I finished spring cleaning my closet. In my closet is a hoard of sentimental, meant-to-someday-be-scrapbooked material that I hang on to like it is essential to my being. Like I will forget all my memories if I can't reach out and touch them from time to time. And by hoard, I mean....lots. Hallmark cards, vacation photos, my wedding album, old letters, dried flowers, movie date ticket stubs.....all of it. Boxes of it. And here is what I did with it all yesterday. I threw it away. All of it. I didn't keep one thing from any past relationship. And it felt.....amazing. Like I cut all the strings were left dangling from the past. Looking at all that empty, available shelf space made me feel free. All I can see is the future now - and I am so excited to explore that future with Chet that it leaves me with no room for my past.
So sadly, my semi-bitchy ranting on divorce has to come to an end. Season One. Complete. However, I love to write too much to quit blogging altogether. For any of you that want to still follow the random-ness that is my life - just send me your email address or post it on here somewhere and I will make sure to include you when I come up with an appropriate new blog title. (which I am taking suggestions for by the way) My blog, season two, is still working itself out - but I promise it will be just as irreverent and interesting as this one - only without all the divorce stories. Hopefully I should have it put together in May. Thank you all for everything - I have loved sharing this part of my life with you. I will leave you with these words of wisdom....
"Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, martini in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming "WOO HOO what a ride!"
To put it most simply, I have outgrown my post-divorce rantings. Divorce remains one of the ugliest things to have touched my life and by no means am I saying that it is any less awful. But at some point in life the best thing to do with the ugly is to leave it behind and that is what I am going to do now. Sharing my journey with you when I was dating was fun - I got to mix my current stories up with my funny older stories. It was also cathartic. I benefited from sharing with you and seeing my stories through your eyes. Lately I have had to dig deep to find real angst to fuel new divorce stories though. I have pretty much run through my supply of bitter and bitchy.
I knew that it was time to end this particular blog topic after I finished spring cleaning my closet. In my closet is a hoard of sentimental, meant-to-someday-be-scrapbooked material that I hang on to like it is essential to my being. Like I will forget all my memories if I can't reach out and touch them from time to time. And by hoard, I mean....lots. Hallmark cards, vacation photos, my wedding album, old letters, dried flowers, movie date ticket stubs.....all of it. Boxes of it. And here is what I did with it all yesterday. I threw it away. All of it. I didn't keep one thing from any past relationship. And it felt.....amazing. Like I cut all the strings were left dangling from the past. Looking at all that empty, available shelf space made me feel free. All I can see is the future now - and I am so excited to explore that future with Chet that it leaves me with no room for my past.
So sadly, my semi-bitchy ranting on divorce has to come to an end. Season One. Complete. However, I love to write too much to quit blogging altogether. For any of you that want to still follow the random-ness that is my life - just send me your email address or post it on here somewhere and I will make sure to include you when I come up with an appropriate new blog title. (which I am taking suggestions for by the way) My blog, season two, is still working itself out - but I promise it will be just as irreverent and interesting as this one - only without all the divorce stories. Hopefully I should have it put together in May. Thank you all for everything - I have loved sharing this part of my life with you. I will leave you with these words of wisdom....
"Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, martini in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming "WOO HOO what a ride!"
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Blog-ette
As the title suggests, this is just a mini-blog. Just a funny story that will be infinitely funnier if you know me. (My apologies to all you strangers, hopefully it is as least moderately entertaining for you as well.)
I can be a moody woman. When I get stressed, or tired, or overwhelmed....I sometimes morph into Psycho Stephanie and enter a world where facts are irrelevant and all that matters is how I feel and what I want. Thankfully, the older I get the less she makes an appearance. In my personal psychological evaluation of myself, my theory is that after the things I have been through it is harder and harder for me to get worked up over the small things because my priority scale has been reevaluated. The scale used to start with not returning phone calls within five minutes and ended up somewhere like forgetting my birthday. Now the scale doesn't even start until someone loses a limb or my hair is on fire. But just know, in the past I have been known to have a good tantrum or two...or ten.
About a week ago Chet and I had a crabby weekend. Nothing completely awful happened, but a bunch of little things just keep snowballing together until my bitch 'o meter kicked in. More than doing things that pissed me off, Chet was just doing things without thinking that were making me insecure - which in turn makes me pissy. Now Chet and I really don't ever fight. I like to think we are both so mature and wise now that we don't need to, but the truth is probably that we are still new enough to be on our better behavior somewhat. So the weekend passed without incident, I remained semi-bitchy until Tuesday, and Chet continued to let me.
Wednesday came and it was such a beautiful day that it was impossible for me to hold onto my bitchiness. I had the day off, spent the afternoon playing my best round of golf ever, and there was just no way I was going to be able to pull off crabby. So went to Chet's, had a great night, and we are cuddling up at the end of the night pillow talking when Chet brings up my weekend bitchiness. (Which was either incredibly brave or incredibly dumb - my good mood must have lulled his "look out! danger!" brain cells into a coma) We have a half hearted, half asleep post-mortem and Chet jokingly asks if our 'fight' is done. I laugh and tell him he hasn't even seen me fight or yell yet and his response was - verbatim - "you? yell? fight? yeah right" and then he rolled over and fell asleep.
I kid you not. He found the idea of me getting mad....funny. He doesn't think I have it in me to be really mean. So either I am way more well adjusted than I thought....or Chet is in for a rude awakening one day.
I can be a moody woman. When I get stressed, or tired, or overwhelmed....I sometimes morph into Psycho Stephanie and enter a world where facts are irrelevant and all that matters is how I feel and what I want. Thankfully, the older I get the less she makes an appearance. In my personal psychological evaluation of myself, my theory is that after the things I have been through it is harder and harder for me to get worked up over the small things because my priority scale has been reevaluated. The scale used to start with not returning phone calls within five minutes and ended up somewhere like forgetting my birthday. Now the scale doesn't even start until someone loses a limb or my hair is on fire. But just know, in the past I have been known to have a good tantrum or two...or ten.
About a week ago Chet and I had a crabby weekend. Nothing completely awful happened, but a bunch of little things just keep snowballing together until my bitch 'o meter kicked in. More than doing things that pissed me off, Chet was just doing things without thinking that were making me insecure - which in turn makes me pissy. Now Chet and I really don't ever fight. I like to think we are both so mature and wise now that we don't need to, but the truth is probably that we are still new enough to be on our better behavior somewhat. So the weekend passed without incident, I remained semi-bitchy until Tuesday, and Chet continued to let me.
Wednesday came and it was such a beautiful day that it was impossible for me to hold onto my bitchiness. I had the day off, spent the afternoon playing my best round of golf ever, and there was just no way I was going to be able to pull off crabby. So went to Chet's, had a great night, and we are cuddling up at the end of the night pillow talking when Chet brings up my weekend bitchiness. (Which was either incredibly brave or incredibly dumb - my good mood must have lulled his "look out! danger!" brain cells into a coma) We have a half hearted, half asleep post-mortem and Chet jokingly asks if our 'fight' is done. I laugh and tell him he hasn't even seen me fight or yell yet and his response was - verbatim - "you? yell? fight? yeah right" and then he rolled over and fell asleep.
I kid you not. He found the idea of me getting mad....funny. He doesn't think I have it in me to be really mean. So either I am way more well adjusted than I thought....or Chet is in for a rude awakening one day.
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