mediation & impact. january 14th and 15th.

well, it's over. not the divorce, or the negotiating, but the mediation.

it was in some ways worse than i thought it would be, and in some ways better.

in some ways ever was exactly what i expected. and in some ways he was better. and in some ways more disrespectful.

this is going to come out all mixed up and scattered. because each part makes me think of another part. sorry for that in advance. this is not chronological at all.

so i went 30 minutes before he got there, to talk to lawyer and tell him what i wanted out of the mediation. both of us wanted him to sign the divorce papers, and the property settlement agreement. a modified version of it would have been fine. but those things didn't happen. so that is why it's not over.

and he didn't pay the mortgage for december or january yet, because he says that he doesn't have the money and can't, so we will be in court on tuesday. with under two weeks until foreclosure proceedings.

so after telling lawyer angrily(i was pretty irate by the time i got there) that all i care about is getting him out of the house and off the mortgage, paying back my parents, and getting the money for the credit card. and that i really don't care about anything else. i told him that my money was on him not showing up. but lawyer said that he'd called and said he was taking the train to the bus there, since i took the car when i left and he doesn't have one. and that he thought he'd be there.

i felt gross. like dried out cottonmouth from stress all day. i hadn't eaten. i couldn't. i popped an ativan when i got to the law office, after checking my pale face in the mirror in the bathroom. i had been nauseous from probably 1030 on. i actually was impressed with the length of time after i woke up at 6, got up at 8, and worked, that i didn't worry about it. i mean, feel the physical worry. the shaking and feeling like i was going to throw up.

but i wanted to look cool and feel cool, so i just faked it. told lawyer before and after that i felt pukey and nervous, but that i was ready to get it over with.

so we waited ten minutes, and then ever showed up. i was looking out the window, we were in a conference room on the second floor overlooking a cobblestone street. when i heard him come in, i turned to sit down.

and of course, he came in with a big stupid smile on his face, 'heyyy, how are you? good to see you.'

with his scary face. i've only seen it when he's on the verge of a freakout, or about to punch someone, or in the middle of a panic attack. his face is super red, his bloodshot eyes are big wide, his pupils pinpoints, and his smile is this forced exposure of gold and platinum and empty spaces mixed in with yellow teeth. i hate that i ever kissed him.

and i know i looked at him like he was insane, because he looked insane, but also because i had just seen him last wednesday at the bank.

and i used my favorite bitchy monotone after screwing up my eyebrows and said, 'good to see you, too.' maybe i said it more like a question. maybe i laughed.

i'd pay for a tape of the meeting. too bad i didn't think to ask lawyer to make that happen. nut who wants to relive two hours of that, really?

i had told lawyer that i didn't want to do any of the talking. or as little as possible, i guess. that he knows what i want, and that i was comfortable with him being the one talking.

so i guess we got right into it. he told him the parts that he had argued in various emails and calls, so we started talking about the house first, i guess.

he basically said that he can't afford the mortgage payment, because he has no rent coming in, because he has no roommates. at that point in time, i knew i'd bust him before the end of the meeting on it, because two weeks ago the house was filled with other people's things.

let me just say now, that telling the story now is going to get all mixed up. all out of order. because the way it comes back to me is not the way it happened.

the thing i'm fixated on right now is the bit about my parents' money. i explained that it wasn't a loan. that the down payment was a gift (i had to, because there are documents stating that it was a gift, which is how we were able to use it at all). and reminded him, in case he had forgotten, that we were about to lose the house and default on our loan, because we ran out of money $20k before the work was done on the house according to the bank. he agreed. that it's not a loan, so much as a return on an investment. and not even that, but basically paying them back their investment when we cash out on the house and walk away with money.

and he said that he refuses to sign anything that has the money being returned to my parents included in it. he said, 'this is a family matter. they are my family, too. i've stayed in touch with them and talked to them about it, and i will pay them what i see fit, when i can. but i will not have that included in this divorce.'

to which lawyer said that the divorce is a family matter, and that we want it in the contract.

after over an hour of discussion, we ended up telling him that we could eliminate that portion of the settlement agreement and create a separate document. and he refused that as well. that it was between him and them.

i said, 'you called my dad on his birthday in september, and you called him a week ago. you didn't discuss the house or the loan. it's not really staying in touch with them, and you didn't discuss anything related to the divorce or the house.'

and he didn't have anything to say to that, i guess. or lawyer changed the subject. i don't remember.

the whole meeting, they were both sitting there with their sheets of paper, with numbers all down the column. i fucking hate that. i have now seen it four times. five, including ever's yesterday.

i saw it when i met with the crazy $3300 lawyer, when we met to talk in june. and with this lawyer this time.

it's standard, i know.

it's a his and hers column. it's an asset and a debt sheet.

ever is hellbent on including the car. even though it is not his. it's not in his name. he didn't have a car coming into it. i said all of that. regardless, if we went to court it would be half his, so i didn't bitch when he got $3k in his column for the car, with the understanding that that was the value three years ago. surely it's depreciated that much in the last three years. but when lawyer mentioned this, he said that his equipment would have depreciated, so if we were doing it that way, we needed to apply it to both. he also alluded to the fact that he had sold off a bunch of equipment. which i don't believe.

lawyer said that we'd go by taxes, because he could have literally thrown things away or moved them, knowing this would happen.

he gave me a hard time about the business, of course. we went through listing shit out so he would see what i'm leaving off the agreement, what i'm walking away from. lawyer said that for all he knows, he could be about to make some huge deal with the business. or the bullshit about the reporters and documentary could be because something huge was about to happen, and that if we didn't exclude the business, then i'd be entitled to half of all of that as well, so that it was in his best interest to leave the business out of it, not mine.

he wanted to know where i was coming up with my figures. the $18k in inventory, the $20k in equipment. he wouldn't accept the computer as being business equipment. the one we bought in 2008. because i took the laptop that we bought in 2003 that was broken. i said what i wanted to say about that, and he said, 'well i could say that the computer is broken, too.' asshole. i should have said, 'oh, okay. i'll be by to pick the broken computer up later.' instead, i said that i left it because you depended on it for the business. FUCKER. he knows this.

he demanded that i list out equipment and it's value there. so i started listing stuff. and said that i couldn't remember specifically, that we were just estimating. but he was like, 'what else? what else?' like he was going to come up super short. after saying that there were only four pieces of equipment i could remember that totaled up $17k, he seemed pretty pleased with himself for knocking off $3k. one look around the house will remind me of more that takes it up over $20k. which i said.

he also didn't believe the estimated inventory. and didn't seem to care about the fact that no income was being figured in, because according to him, he took a $15k loss last year, which i honestly don't remember. he has made $5k twice, $9k once, and broken even once that i can remember from past taxes. i don't know how i forgot that he took a loss. but i'll have to look it up.

all of this was our way of valuing his (nonprofit) business, saying that half the pile of business shit in that house is mine, but i'm not trying to take it.

so in the end, the business was $35k minus the $15k loss (if that's true), so i was walking away from $10k by not including it.

in thinking about it today, the mediation was basically me paying the lawyer to lose ground. because thinking about it today, the car made it onto the list, despite my demanding that it didn't. the business didn't get included, but instead of being $20k i was walking away from, it became $10k. and the parents being taken off the list of debts.

yeah. so whatever. none of it really matters, because that was about the time that i made the pitch.

what's funny is that, after the meeting, lawyer said, 'i don't mean to offend you, but he's really not that smart is he? or is that just a game?'

and i said, 'oh, that's a game. he sucks at math, but besides that, he is crafty. and him playing dumb was his way of making the mediation as expensive as possible for me, and making you think he was slow.'

so. the pitch.

he had said, 'just so i'm clear, let's list out the options for the house.'

it's simple ever, really. you can't buy me out, i can't buy you out, so all that's left is to sell it. so we have to sell the house. but he needed columns on his paper, and to cross them off after one by one saying that they weren't possible.

he was so content to argue values and selling the house, and i cut in. i couldn't take it anymore. i felt like the two of them would argue numbers until the sun came up.

so i said, 'there is one more option.'

and i think that was probably the only time the entire time that he was genuinely caught off guard. i said that i could give him a chunk of money now, to walk away from all of it.

of course he wanted to know how it was possible, and all i said is that i can get a loan. i didn't mention that my parents, who he is refusing to pay back, are willing to throw more money at him to get rid of him.

i explained how it would work. i said that he could call gmac and take his name off the loan. dave interjected that he would have to sign a quitclaim deed (which i found out about at that specific moment in time). it means the house is mine without taking out a mortgage. he would have to move out the end of february, after paying for december, january, and february mortgage for the time he lived there. that he walks away from the house and no longer gets access or has interest in it. and i asked him what he would want to walk away from it.

i said that i would come through this weekend with my realtor to have her valuate the house. because i knew he was lying about people living there, and that was the perfect way to catch him in it. one day later, to not have time to do anything drastic to make it look like an empty house, sans roommates.

lawyer said, 'you don't have any roommates, so it's just you moving out of the property, no leases to deal with, right?'

and he said, 'the one lease i had is done. i have three roommates lined up to move in, one for -'

and i couldn't help my reaction. i mean, i could have. but i fucking did it anyway. i didn't laugh, not exactly. it was more like a huh! sound of a big rush of air coming out of my mouth. and the look on his face was priceless. like i actually hurt his feelings or surprised him or something.

it was the one time he got genuinely defensive, when lawyer had to kinda break it up, as loosely as that can be used.

he said, 'i'm not going to talk to you if you're going to laugh at me.'

and i said, 'i'm not laughing, but i have heard that before. you'll have to forgive me for not believing you. go on. you were saying... you have three roommates lined up, one for...'

and he refused to go on.

so i repeated myself, 'three roommates lined up, one for... what? one for february?'

he wouldn't go on.

i guess i hurt his feelings. poor ever. that's what happens when you use the exact sentence 'i have three roommates lined up' in a 2 am conversation in february when i decided to move out. that was the specific conversation where i realized how easily he could lie to me. and how manipulative he was. he just used the wrong string of words in the mediation, and i couldn't help myself. it was mostly reflexive.

this happened after he asked me, by that point, to not talk at the same time as the lawyer at least twice. he said, 'let him talk, i can't understand when you're talking over him or talking at the same time.'

which was a personal dig. because he complained for a long time that i never let him finish sentences, that i'd jump to conclusions before he had a chance to say what he was trying to say. so anytime i tried to explain something while the lawyer was either saying it differently that i wanted him to, or incorrectly, ever would give me a look and ask me to not talk over him.

but back to the fact that he has no roommates now. back to the fact that he has three lined up.

lawyer said, 'well you haven't signed leases right?'

and he said right.

and he said, 'then you haven't taken money from anyone.'

and ever got caught in the second lie.

he said, 'yes. i did.'

and lawyer said, 'then you should return that right away. especially since they haven't moved in yet.'

and i knew, sitting there, that the money was already spent. and not on paying the mortgage.

and ever had to explain that he was letting someone stay there right now. the girlfriend of one of the dudes, who has a kid. that she was in an abusive situation, and that he was helping her out by letting her and her kid stay there.

pretty funny how a few minutes before, poor ever had no rental income and no one living with him. and now the story changed. only because he knew he'd be busted when i did a walkthru the next day.

so lawyer said, 'well, you'd have to explain to her that you will no longer be her landlord and that it would be up to tea to let her stay or ask her to leave. you know tea better than i do, but we both know that she isn't the type of person to put someone out onto the street.'

and ever said, in his best personal attack of the day, 'i don't know her at all.'

and i said, 'well if (our friend) would like to communicate with me about it, then that's up to him.'

and ever, on a bit of a roll with little jabs, said something like, 'those people have nothing to say to you after you jumped ship. they don't want to communicate with you.'

and i said that was on them, then.

i tried not to act upset. but of everything said yesterday, it hurt me the most. because i have tried a couple times to get them to write me back or say something, email me back, and none of them have.

so as much as i don't want to believe him when he says that, and i do think that this is like all of his other lies that cash in on my sensitivity, it probably is true.

a close second, on digs, was when we told him he'd have to move out before we could list the house, and he said, 'well i have to find a place to live that takes dogs, so i'll need some time for that.'

to which i replied without any emotion, 'obviously.'

but wanted instead to say, 'oh. she doesn't come with the house?' i was glad that the mention of the puppy daughter didn't make me cry. because talking about her recently i got choked up. time isn't making that pain go away. i do a pretty good job of not thinking about her and that situation the majority of the time. but when it comes up, it chokes me up.

the third lie ever got caught in was a pretty funny one. he was doing the thing he did this summer, when he told me that i basically showed him all my cards by telling him what i discussed with the lawyer, that he had three lawyers all telling him blah blah blah. that he had info that i didn't, and that it would help him.

the one he pulled yesterday was when he said that he'd had his realtor come through the house twice. what i think he was trying to make me think was that he had her come through recently, and also when i left, giving him an estimated appraisal on its value then and now. and that he had info i didn't have.

but once lawyer explained that the value when i left was irrelevant, i think he abandoned the idea that he had the upper hand when it came to the house. and then said that she hadn't given him amounts at all.

right. then why the fuck else would you have her come through? not once, but twice? so when i made the plan to come through with my realtor this weekend, lawyer asked if he could do the same to get an estimated value. and he said that he didn't know, that his realtor was probably out of town or something. right. totally likely. i didn't tell him that my realtor knows his. and if i wanted to, i could fact check him.

he took a cigarette break at a point, after i pitched the idea about paying him to walk away. and lawyer said i beat him to the punch about the pitch. and i said that he would have sat there wasting more time with numbers and that i didn't want to waste any more time talking about all of that shit, when they weren't even the option i wanted. an hour in, we hadn't talked yet about what i wanted to spend the most time talking about.

about an hour and a half in, i was so maxed out on listening to ever and dealing with ever, and watching the two of them who can't do fucking math, add and subtract incorrectly. and lawyer sensed it. i was literally staring at the table, i had completely checked out.

and he said, 'well, i think we're done here for today.'

and ever said, 'what, have we reached our cap? are we out of time?'

that is how i know that he was making it as costly for me as he could.

so i said, 'there is no cap. but we are done here. we could sit here and crunch numbers all night. but you won't sign the papers, and we're not getting anywhere, so we are done.'

the last thirty minutes of the two hours were spent discussing plans to come up with offers over the weekend, to have an agreement drafted by monday, to meet up at court on tuesday. and that if we can come to an agreement and have it signed by tuesday, that we would wait our turn for the courtroom and have it entered onto court record that we were canceling the hearing because we had come to an agreement. to make it even more legally binding.

smart lawyer. i chose well.

i had already said that i wasn't going to cancel the hearing unless ever paid the mortgage current over the weekend. and he said that it wasn't possible. but lawyer said that one way to get around that with a new agreement would be to take the mortgage out of the chunk of money being paid to him.

and i know that ever thought my lawyer was retarded for two reasons. one, he said, 'use the calculator on your phone, tea.' because my iphone was sitting on the table, when they were crunching numbers and splitting things in half.

the first time was when he incorrectly spouted law at him regarding the appraisal when i left. and ever said, 'you know the law about this'. and lawyer corrected him.

but it was pretty funny to see him corrected while his dumb ass was trying to correct my lawyer. that whole bit was about the equity being based off of what the house was worth back when i left, versus now. to which lawyer said, 'actually, you're wrong. it can be done from its value now, or when you sign the papers, not from the date of separation. do you want to see the law? i have the book in my office down the hall...'

it was pretty funny. it shut him up.

the other time he got shut up was when lawyer told him that if we went to court to settle the property, that i'd be entitled to half of the rental income because the house is still mine. that it's $500 a month i've been losing since i left, and that we'd absolutely include it if we go to court. in addition to having the business valuated to include income.

and the third time that ever let his disrespect for my lawyer be known was at the last possible minute, when lawyer made a drunk joke that ever obviously didn't find amusing. i kinda shook my head, knowing that he was trying to crack a joke and lighten the mood right before we left, and it was just embarrassing. it wasn't funny. and it really wasn't a good joke to crack to ever.

he said something about having a friend who is a realtor who could probably go through the house on short notice if ever couldn't get his realtor to go through this weekend. he said, 'i'm sure he could do it. if he wasn't drunk. because he wouldn't drink and drive. but he could probably do it.'

ever just stared at him.

it's like the delay of processing this fully yesterday made me wake up teary eyed this morning. i was up until 330. and i woke up at 930 this morning and couldn't go back to sleep.

this shit. it's all i can think about. it has been for days. being in a room with him, the way he talks to me, the way he looks at me. all of it. knowing that he is lying, but not knowing his tells.

knowing that he lies so much, but only admits it when he gets caught.

i commend myself for getting better at thinking of ways to catch him in his lies.

now i get to figure out what i want to offer him.

i'm so tempted to say, 'three thousand dollars'. in which case, he'd walk away with under one.

it would be a gigantic fuck you. i've got you.

i also feel like, lately, i've been catching him with his pants down. not literally, of course. but the thing about him showing up alone just shows that he was lying about the entourage. he can't pay the mortgage, so i should actually have him right where i want him, as far as cut and run goes. it makes it next to impossible for him to do anything other than use whatever i offer him to pay the mortgage, and take the rest.

because if he doesn't take this offer, whatever it is, then he will have to move out by the end of february, put the house on the market, and pay half of the mortgage until it sells (i'd obviously have to pay the other half), which could be months. in addition to living elsewhere. in addition to coughing up money for the work it will take to bring it up to being sellable. all of that to wait and see what we get offered. all to hope that he'd end up with more than i'm about to hand him for doing nothing. which is all he is good at.

it seems pretty fitting that the way to get him out of my life and get what i ultimately want in this situation, is to hand him a pile of money for doing absolutely nothing.

ever the taker. always and forever.

it's about the only thing i can depend on when it comes to him.

i didn't process much of this yesterday. i drove home from the law office when it was over. and the only parking spot i could find was near kit's. so i went up to her place for a beer instead of going home. she answered the door with a bottle opener to the cap of a beer for me. i love her.

so i decided to call my parents and tell them both the story in front of her. three birds with one stone. so my parents each got on the extensions of the house phone, and i told the whole story.

and they laughed when i told them things i'd said to both ever, and in recapping the story about landlord that i hadn't told them yet.

and called bullshit when ever said things that we all knew weren't true.

i got pretty wound up, talking fast and enthusiastically in telling the story. and when i was ready for a cigarette, kit helped me get off the phone with them to go outside.

we ended up going to a show that we'd planned to go to. and i'm glad i went. it was an early show, so that was awesome. and we agreed to meet up with the band at a club in the same neighborhood in an hour.

i finally ate. mcdonalds for the second time this week. i was already drunk. three beers over the course of 4.5 hours on an empty stomach crushed me.

so i ate, paid the cover to get into the club to pee, came back out and finished my food. we sat smoking in the car, because we were early. then she paid to get in and pee, and came back out. we finally went in.

i know i'm old. i joke about it a lot. but last night, i knew i was old because i got a little too excited about the bartenders selling earplugs. it was super loud, and we'd already been at a super loud show. it was listed under the beer. we both ordered a beer and earplugs. it was hilarious.

but the club was filled with just-turned-21 kids, and the music was a near miss. the music was really slow for dancing, but we danced anyway. and went upstairs after a while to find the people we were meeting up with.

i didn't know there was an upstairs, and it was the first time i'd been up there. two dj's were playing eighties music, but not the new wave i prefer.

it was still better than downstairs, but hot. they played madonna 'burning up', which i have been listening to a lot lately. and talking heads 'same as it ever was', which was the most fun to dance to, because the older hipsters had made their way upstairs and knew most of words and were having a lot of fun. kit went to say goodbye and they played 'no parking on the dance floor', which i also loved.

it wasn't the most fun, but there were a lot of cute boys to look at and dance between.

kit talked to her friend, and we decided to bail after being there for a while and feeling like it was kindof a waste.

i danced enough, but we were both yawning a lot, and full from eating, so it was a faulty plan, and we left early.

and i came home, and got into bed at maybe 130. nina was awake, so we chatted until maybe 3, i can't remember. i fell asleep at 330.

now if i can just get the realtor to go to the house with me today. i haven't heard from her since i texted her last night.

i need to do laundry today. and clean my messy dirty apartment. all this snow and salt is tracked all through my place, and i haven't cleaned since i got back, beyond just organizing.

i feel much less depressed today. i think it's because i know i'm making the turn with ever. and because court will be a cakewalk after yesterday. i'm not afraid of him now. i know what to expect. and the initial shock is over with.

now to take my life back.

and to figure out what to pay him to get the fuck out of it.

an update of sorts. january 13th.

he did.

he did text me again.

i got this:

'i value your tenancy. i like having long term tenants and i'm not saying that i want you to move. i had to say something because it is disturbing. re: the heat. i turned it down for you today to 70.i although i also prefer it cooler, (upstairs) gets too cold. it's alright if you crack the windows in your unit. the thermostat is in the basement and won't be affected. landlord.'

to which i replied:

'yeah. i just don't appreciate being told not to go in and out of my apartment. it's your choice to live there, your choice to pay the heat, you setting the thermostat. those are your problems, not mine, and i pay my rent and follow the lease so you have no grounds to text me about your stress. i don't appreciate the way you text me. use earplugs if you're a light sleeper. that's what i do to drown out (upstairs) being up all hours of the night. in the future, don't rent to a smoker if it bothers you. i'm happy to move out if i'm bothering you. really.'

it made me feel better. his lack of response also made me feel better.

i'm glad i could tell him that his choices are not my problem.

i still can't get over him texting me last night and setting off the third attack.

i can't believe i fell asleep at 3. and woke up at 545.

i can't believe i'm awake. and coherent. in some ways, i feel the best i've felt all day.

i talked to kenna today at work, and she asked what was going on with me. i told her that i couldn't get into it because i thought i'd cry if i did, and just saying that made me start to cry, but i fought it off.

told her enough for her to know that i'm going to the mediation tomorrow and court on tuesday.

i'm crashing now on the backside of the wave i was riding yesterday.

i think it's silly of me to not eat at suck store. i forgot my leftover. and nothing sweet at work sounded like it would not come right back up.

so i ate when i got home at 4.

which was fine. there, i felt sick. once i got here, i was actually hungry.

and that's that.

i spent a while in bed, relaxing. after food.

then got up to watch some firefly episodes.

poured a drink. had a smoke.

just hanging out.

i'll have another smoke. and finish off my one drink. and go to sleep.

and it might just be a visit with lawyer tomorrow, because my money's sitting on the fact that he will not even bother to show. or he'll be late. something. it will not be seamless.

and if it is, color me crazy.

either way, the mortgage will hopefully be paid at the end of the meeting. i'll even let him use my iphone. and then make him log in to the homeowners as well. the chance that he has $2300 laying in his bank account is so fucking unfathomable that i can't even see a way around going to court on tuesday.

what will i do tomorrow night? i just don't even know.

i will make a couple calls from the lawyer's office before i sit in rush hour traffic with a panic-clouded head. then come back to my place. it would be best to go straight to the bar. and have an amazing bender to get the fuck over it. even if 'it' is nothing at all. because nothing at all will be court prep time.

it's funny, watching this show after buffy. joss loves fight scenes with stuntmen. he loves breaking necks to kill enemies. the characters are pretty well written off the bat. my mind was BLOWN yesterday when i learned that james marsters isn't a brit. and i just stare at simon on this show. he's like a doctor version of cole hamels who i'm totally hot for. sigh...

know what i wish? i wish i had a date tomorrow after all that shit. getting laid would probably take the sting out of it...

aftermath. january 13th.


and that's about it.

my eyes are burning. i'm hungry and nauseous all at the same time.

i'm too exhausted to be angry or sad really. though i do feel like crying, still...

so this is what happened yesterday:

i was at work. minding my own business. having a relatively good day.

and my phone rang at 2. and it was ever. and i stared at it for a second.

and then i picked it up and said, 'what's up?' in a monotone.

and he said he wanted to tell me when he could meet for mediation.

fine. great. wrote things down. and i should have hung up on him without saying goodbye or anything. i had the info i answered for.

or when i realized that he was launching into something unrelated, i should have hung up on him then, too.

but i did what i do. i did what i did when i was still in the house. or anytime he called me after i left him.

i listened.

and i felt myself becoming increasingly panic-stricken. my face went hot, then white, then lightheaded, then heart pounding in my head angry.

i cannot understand for the life of me why i let him reel me in.

i'm not a stupid fish. i see the hook. i see the worm on the hook. i know it's fucking bait. but i see the worm, and no hook, so surely this worm must not be attached to a hook? am i retarded or something?

last night, after a talk with kit, i literally felt like i need to take a mental vacation. go check myself in somewhere.

it's funny how mirrored the conversation kit and i had was, once i was home and in bed.

because she was joking around and said, 'is this forever? is this real life?' from david at the dentist. about a friend who felt a little crazy once.

and it was totally how i felt that night. i didn't think that the conversation was stressful at all while we were having it, over beers at favorite bar. but when i started to feel like a crazy person, it kinda took over.

so the meat of the story.

what he said.

after the bit about the days, he asked me to let him know as soon as possible, because he needed to let some people know when the mediation would be taking place so they could be there.

that he's being featured in a paper article, having a documentary made about the company, and being interviewed for a local radio station.

all of which sounds like bullshit to me (to which i should have said, had i been on my a game, 'aw, does that make you feel better about yourself? like a big important businessman?). i mean, i know it is.

while i don't doubt there is coverage for him, there has been before, we used to make it happen all the time, i don't see how anyone other than him could be this interested in divorce proceedings.

he went on to say that they want to include the hearing and the mediation, so he'll have these people from these places there to ask questions and tape the whole thing.

which he can't do. but anyway.

then said that the paper want certain questions answered while we're under oath.

that's when i realized that he's been overdosing on crazy pills.

poor ever, without a lawyer. he's been to court five times that i know of. probably more. so why on earth would he think that he'd be allowed to have paper reporters ask questions in a court session while we're under oath?

he has lost his fucking mind.

yet, in my head, i'm having an impossible time blocking the image of our reporter friend with his microphone in my face, or the image from that show 'cheaters' where they basically ambush the person with a camera crew and start asking a barrage of questions. in my head, i see the spinning newspaper that swirls closer and stops like in the movies, with headlines that might read, 'someone kill this woman' or 'the bitch behind the business', or 'poor ever - defenseless and broke'. with one of those horribly unflattering pictures (it's not hard to get one of those these days) where i look like my grandmother, all worry lines, no makeup, frumpy and weighed down with shopping bags, with my mouth agape under the headline.

the lawyer had already heard this bullshit, and told him that a mediation is not a public event, and that it would only be the three of us in a room.

and that if he brought anyone other than a lawyer to the hearing, he'd ask the judge to kick them out of the courtroom.

so i shouldn't worry. i'm meeting with him 30 minutes before ever is invited to show up tomorrow.

just now, thinking about tomorrow, my face is hot and tingly. my stomach is sick. and i'm a little shaky. it feels like being embarrassed. like being called out on a foul or a lie.

the majority of my stress comes from not knowing how to handle him, or what to say.

to get myself out of it yesterday, after i talked to nina, i decided that, if he does bring anyone other than himself, i'll just let shit fly about his past life. especially if it is in front of a camera or a recorder.

just loudly ask dave if we should include the bits about him being a recovering heroin addict. or the bits about the time he spent in jail for assaulting a cop. or his ex girlfriend. or if i should mention that he started drinking and lying about it the last year i was with him. or when he started spending my money (his 'allowance') on weed and lying to me about that for over a month.

just let the truth spill out.

taint the image of ever as the phoenix. rising from the death and destruction his wife left for him to contend with when she pulled the anchor and sailed away.

it made me even more angry that i let it get to me.

and i know he could hear it in my voice when i asked him to bring the release for anything related to the divorce with him.

and i heard him smile when he (lied) said, 'oh. they only need my permission, so there is no release for you to sign. i've already done the majority of the interviews and filmed portions. they don't need your permission because it's public knowledge.'

you know, if he wants to bring a slew of people into court where i list the reasons why he needs to pay his bills on time, then so be it. he is the one who is going to look like an irresponsible tool. and all i have to do is let dave do the talking.

if i can find a way to get into the house this weekend with my realtor friend, that would be best, because i know he is lying about not having roommates. or if i can even go do some surveillance and catch people other than ever coming and going. i know they still live there. unless they all moved out when i was in florida. which is really highly unlikely.

and then he just looks like an irresponsible liar. because either he's letting people stay there without paying, or he is taking cash from them so it goes under the radar, or they are there and they are paying and he is just lying.

there's the bit about not giving me the rent money because he needed to do upkeep and improvements on the house. there's the bit about the leases.

and then, in my head, i can't help but to wonder what the fuck he wants to ask me? under oath so i can't lie. seriously. what could it be?

the only legitimate thing he has is the bit about paying my parents back. because it wasn't specifically a loan.

it's a decent human being thing. and if he wants to be a douchebag and refuse to pay that back, then awesome. he will get his.

now for the part of my day where i look for emails sent back and forth while we were trying to settle things amicably... ugh...

and for any sign of proof that he was only used to make up the difference that i couldn't qualify for on my own.

i can't think about this any more. i need to find things that will make me feel like i have a stronger case.

and as far as landlord?

i fucking DARE him to text me again.

crazy pills.


i finally calmed myself down from that, the second panic attack of the day.

and at 1230 am i got a text from landlord telling me that my constant coming and going has gotten to be too much. that his heating bill was $100 higher than normal.

i texted him back.

is this a joke? i was gone for half the month of december. i told you that the heat was set too high, and i have my windows cracked. maybe if the front door shut, that would help. do you want me to move? and is 1230 am texting even appropriate?

i must be taking crazy pills.

what i wanted to say was this:

just because you choose not to work, and choose to set your own thermostat at a retarded temperature, your bills are not my FUCKING PROBLEM.

i pay my rent. you do not have the right to tell me when i can come and go. if you don't fucking like it, then fucking MOVE OUT. i pay my rent on time. too high, if you ask me, but heat is included, so whatever. i don't bitch about the fact that the door doesn't shut. i don't bitch about the fact that my bathroom window is permanently open, when it's 15 degrees outside. or about the fact that the oven doesn't work. or the fact that third floor neighbor moves furniture around her apartment between the hours of midnight and 3am when i'm trying to sleep, pretty much every night. or that i can hear her having sex. or hear her cat running all over at all hours. or plays even louder music at even crazier hours. or about the fact that you don't clear snow from the stoop or the walk leading up to it.

i don't smoke in the apartment. it is none of your business when i choose to smoke or how many times a day i open the front door.

i would love nothing more than to move out of your shithole apartment.

your texting is completely inappropriate, out of line, and has pretty much crossed the line from annoyance to harrassment.

i had just calmed myself down from a second panic attack. and you gave me a third. thank you. i have to do something tomorrow called WORK. and i'm waking up at 545 to do that.

you are a crazy asshole. sell your fucking buildings. get a job. leave me the fuck alone. AND STAY THE FUCK OUT OF MY APARTMENT.

tell you what. you give me my security deposit back. keep my last month's rent for the month of february, and i will gladly leave.

as a courtesy, i'll gladly start paying my rent on the 5th, as that is the last possible day i can pay it without incurring a late fee.

i'll play loud music until midnight like you do, and use hammers to make fucking SHOES until midnight like you do. and i'll even try harder to find some guy to fuck just so i can have loud rough sex all day and all night right above your head.

i'm waiting for him to try to come in and notice i changed the lock.

i should probably change it back. just so i have nothing to keep from getting my security deposit back. and i should probably suggest that he just keep my last months rent for february, and go our separate ways.

seriously. i had just accomplished the feeling of, 'maybe now i can fall asleep' when he sent that. and god strike me dead if my heart rate didn't skyrocket above where it was when i wrote that last post.

it's only funny because i just went on to my shrink about not getting out of bed. i go to work and come home. and most nights have two cigarettes. does that constitute constant coming and going?

is anyone a lawyer? can i do anything about this?

crazypills. seriously.

if i had shit i didn't mind breaking, i'd start heaving breakables against my apartment floor.

i have consistently let his crazy texts slide. the one about rent being due on the first. the one about smoking in the hall, which i did not do, and have not ever done. the one that accused me of taking apart my bathroom sink when i was painting his apartment for him.

but now? this is just too far.

i have never wanted to run away and never look back as much as i do right now. four hours before my alarm will go off, sending me to a store that i hate. for a job that i'm pretty disenchanted with this week. to think about the man that i hate more than anyone i have ever hated. for more panic attacks.

i need to sleep. i can't seem to get there.

and i can't pop another pill or have another drink to force myself to pass the fuck out.

fuck my life.

fuck ever.

fuck landlord.

fuck it ALL.
fucking goddamn motherfucker.

on a night when i have to be up retardedly early.

i am awake.

my resting heart rate? 96 bpm.

i just popped an ativan in hopes of falling asleep while it is still technically today.

how did i make it through my entire life since leaving without it? any why have i taken it 3 times in the last 5 days?

i am so mad at myself.

why did i answer the phone?

why did i let him win?

i knew. i knew it. i knew that he would only try to upset me. yet, i hoped it would be different this time.

i'm fucking insane. because it's always the same. and against my better judgment, and everyone else's, i answered the call. to set up a mediation date.

and i got oh so much more than i bargained for.

seemed harmless enough. he said, 'i'm available on thursday or friday or monday, after 130.'

and i said, 'great i'll text you the appointment time.'

and that is when i should have hung up without saying goodbye.

and then i didn't.

and then the next sentence started a chain of sentences.

and then i was royally fucked. in the head. at work. at 2 pm.

and then i had to leave the store. and i had to smoke. and i had to call nina. i had to take a breather for five minutes.

then i had to sit down. i didn't throw up or pass out, but felt very pale and very green.

all because of ever.

ever the hype machine.

i just have to tell myself:

he knows what he is doing, and that is why he is doing it.

he is a liar.

he's doing this because he is scared.

he's doing this because he is hurt. still.

he's trying to make my life harder because he knows i'm happier without him.

he'll get what he deserves and i don't have to be the one to give it to him.

even though, today, i was so livid that i really think, given the right opportunity, i would have harnessed all the buffy i've been watching lately, and put a knife into his person. or punched him in his lying mouth.

i don't want to be writing this right now. but i need to do something.

i watched two episodes of modern family followed by two episodes of the office. and i was laughing so hard for two hours.

and then i turned off the laptop, and i started to cry. out of nowhere, immediately following laughter.

i started and stopped.

i want to cry. i want to scream.

but i can't. and i'm silent.

and i'm fucking awake. and i hate my life right now.

tomorrow i'll have lots of time at suck store to write it all out - i know it's cryptic now, but i can't get into it and get upset all over again.

and then friday, at 3, i see my lawyer. and at 330, he'll be there. i doubt he'll actually show up. but he says he'll be there for mediation. to settle things once and for all.

and then it will be over. and it will be the weekend. and then i can lay in bed for two days. and then it will be suck store again on monday. and then the court date on tuesday.

and then, if i am lucky, the worst will be over.

then, if i'm lucky, i'll never fucking see him again.

dear ever. january 10th.

let's see...

things change so quickly around here that i forget where i was in the drama-filled soap opera that is becoming 'a week in the life of tea'.

right. so. went to bed fucking wired because i couldn't stop obsessing about all of it. what did he say to the lawyer? what the fuck is he thinking?

i had no idea.

so today, as i was driving in to work, my phone rang. the lawyer. called him back walking in to work after i parked my car.

buckle up, people.

it's about to get crayyyzeee.

first things first. ever has a JOB.

that's right.

i don't know what kind of a job. or who he is working for.

but he claims to be the new guy at his job, and that he's going to have a bit of a hard time finding the right time for us to meet up, what with working and all.



secondly. ever was told by friends and family (specifically because he can't afford a lawyer) that the quickest way to get this over with is to let the house get foreclosed on.

yep. just stop making the payments that he can't afford now that the roommates don't live there any more.

ah-ah-bullshit! (that was the sound of me sneezing the word bullshit)

if no one is living there, then whose shit was i stumbling over? who was home when i was there?

fucking LIAR.

he wants to be out of the house as soon as possible.

fine. great. perfect, even. get the fuck out. take all your shit with you. all the shit that is yours because you don't have roommates. THAT shit.

what i want to know, is, who the fuck told him to let the house get foreclosed upon??? 'hey, ever. yeah. equity, whatever. money, whatever. just give all of that to the bank and walk away empty handed. THAT'S what you should do.'

was it his crazy fucking mother? i am mostly sure she let a house go into foreclosure once. when you're upside down, sure. why not? let the bank take the loss. that makes sense. but seriously? really? or maybe it is all the people who used to be my 'friends'. because none of them know a thing about money. or equity. or marriage. or divorce.

'lose the house, ever. that will show her! whatabitch!'

let me count the ways... or the things i'm bubbling over with joy about right now.

the one that really gets me?

he doesn't recall signing a loan notice on the money my parents gave us for the house.

yeah, fucker. there wasn't one. they thought we were going to live in the house for 20 years. you want to sell it now and walk away with a chunk of money? pay them back first. then take what is not-even-rightfully yours.

the tone of the email he wrote to my lawyer was so self righteous. and chock full of lies. but that's beside the point.

when WE bought the house TOGETHER. fuck you. i almost bought the house by myself. you just made up the difference, jackass.

he said that he called the insurance company and had the homeowners split off from my car insurance, and that the account was current.

right. because i PAID IT FOR YOU, FUCKER. and because i closed the joint account. because you were ruining my credit. are. still.

and that you are only 30 days past due. try 40. try 20 from foreclosure. idiot.

you know, i can take a lot. but i cannot handle lying.

and he is lying. and it is making me want to harm him physically.

what else was there?

the thing about my parents pissed me off the most.

we all knew we bit off more than we could chew. we were up against a deadline that we wouldn't have met if they didn't bail us out. did you sign a promissary note? no. of course not. had my parents known i wanted to leave him back then, they wouldn't have helped. they would have cut and run instead, and made me figure it out for myself.

ingrateful bastard. takes and takes and takes.

i can't think straight to remember what else was in there.

but i know his lying ass is trying to get out of the court date.

and i won't do that unless he pays the mortgage current in front of me. right then and there.

which he won't do. ever having $2100 on hand? not likely.

i have to be careful. i have to get all this anger out of the way so i can make rational decisions when i'm sitting across from him. i have to cry now, so i don't cry then.

the shrink was good today. she wants me to stop drinking every day. and getting out of bed when i'm not sleeping in it. or in a month, she's going to talk to me about antidepressants. and if you don't know how i feel about that, then let me tell you.

i don't want to take a happy pill. or an anti-stress pill. i just need my life to be easier so i can deal with it in healthy ways.

i was a psych major. i know the deal. and pills mask problems, and then gives you a rash of new ones. i'm not game. but i'm also not proud of the way i'm handling things now. she recommended taking ativan instead of drinking. not that she thinks either is the best option. but a pill is better than drinks plural in her eyes.

i had decided on the way there to write him a letter, and she suggested that as a good way to 'talk' to him. after reading his email, i decided not to call him tonight. because he'll manipulate me and lie, and i don't have to put up with that anymore.

the problem with ever is that i have good intentions. i didn't want to uproot him. so i let him stay. mistake. i trusted that he had leases with tenants, even when he wouldn't give me copies. i trusted that he'd stay on top of everything, because he wanted to stay in the house for two years. meanwhile, six months after that...big mistake. all because i didn't want to rock the boat any more than it was swaying from me jumping overboard.

so i'm going to write him a letter now:

dear ever, you fucking piece of shit.

this will read like a lot of other letters i've written to you in the past.


which is it?

is it that you don't care about the money, so you're willing to let the house go?

or is it that you want more than your share because you feel like i owe you reparations?

who the fuck told you to let the house go? seriously, i want to know. because they are as insane as you are. takes one to know one?

is it your mom? who pops pills and lacks any and all coping mechanisms? is this because i left her sweet baby to fend for himself before he drilled us both into the ground?

seriously, though... are you on drugs? crack or something? because you gave me a fright at the bank the other day. you look like a hollow version of yourself. and you obviously aren't in your right mind. i'd hate to think that it's a sober brain behind the decisions you're making these days.

i'm genuinely worried about you. even though i wish i didn't, i do still care about you. i hate myself for thinking it and feeling it, much less documenting it for all posterity.

but really. are you okay? because you don't look like you are. or write like you are. or talk like you are. it's scary. should i talk to dr dug, or just leave you on your own?

i almost went to talk to him today. to tell him i'm worried about you. but i didn't. because it would show a sign of weakness. and i know that is what you'd exploit if you figured it out for yourself.

really. i hate you. honestly, i do. i hate the person you are now, who lies and takes from people who gave to you more than you will ever, in this lifetime, be able to repay to anyone ever. let alone the people who helped you the most.

you tug on people's heartstrings. my dad was genuinely disappointed that you didn't call him back to talk about the house like you said you wanted to. and telling the lawyer that you talked to him about the 'loan' is such a load of shit.

even your gestures are fucked up. my dad thought you were reaching out to him for advice. instead, you used that call to try to be your alibi.

you don't have a dad. don't abuse mine.

and don't use the fact that you don't have a dad to weasel your way in with mine. pity is a terrible thing.

your mom sucks. and mine shouldn't have sent you a christmas present, but she did, without my knowledge. and you can't even say thanks? i'll shame you, since your mother won't. shame on you. you ought to be ashamed of yourself.

but you probably just think it's because they owe it to you. for spawning a daughter that thought better than to stay with you. that'll show em.

that'll show them, alright... that i had every reason to leave you.

and what's this i hear about you having a job now? is that even true? or did you make that up to try to get out of court dates and mediation?

did you give up on your dream when you clocked in for the first time? don't you wish you'd done it when i was still around? to make me stay longer? to help the two of us survive? because it was so much easier when there were two of us. for you, anyway. i'm glad i stopped killing myself for you. for nothing. you=nothing.

fucking SPONGE.

i can't say it enough.

i don't know what your problem is. but having your head buried in the sand for the last six months doesn't mean that you can pull it out one day, and say that you've been trying all along, and that i didn't respond and that the agreement must have gotten lost in the mail.

having your head up your own ass doesn't mean that you can start taking pot shots at the way i've had to handle things since you dropped the ball. or try to claim that it was you who cleaned up the mess.

that big chip on your shoulder? where did that come from? there's no need to get all self-righteous at this point in the juncture. your actions and words show who you are. you won't be able to hide from them.

i am proud of you for manning up and getting a job. eight years later. it's about fucking time! but maybe the phrase 'too little too late' is a better fit.

that's right, ever. you bring all the cliches right out of me. it's horrible.

but not as horrible as you.

and because i want to scream it from the rooftops:

I TOLD YOU SO! i fucking TOLD you so. so suck it!

remember when you implied that you had all this extra money when i left? and when i told you not to get cocky and spend it? and when i told you to have leases for your tenants to protect you and our house? remember that? to get a security deposit, and last month's rent? remember?

because i was right. i was riiiiiiiight.

you were setting yourself up for failure.

unless this is some crazy way to make it seem like you don't collect rent. tax evasion is the best reason for people who are married to file separately. i read it online a few days ago.

either way, it isn't as easy as it looked. you couldn't even keep it up for six months. how was it unfair of me to give up after a year when there were two of us there? fuck you. half the time and you're throwing in the towel. poor ever. his wife left him all alone.

and those three lawyers? the ones you tried to scare me with this summer? what happened to them? free consultations ran out, did they? guess that you understand now why i was so quick to hand money over to one. remember when you mocked me? said i was stupid for throwing my money away. guess you should have taken a page from that book, because look who you're consulting now, loser. my lawyer. on my dime.

fuck you. i hate you. it sucks to be you, i know. but it sucks even more to have been married to you.


that pretty much sums it up. there was so much more there earlier today, driving around and working my ass off. but it's all gone now. i've moved on to other issues. i'm more angry than i was today. i actually cried at the shrink for a second. about ever. about feeling worried for him and still caring for him. i shocked even myself.

my dad called to see how it went, talking to him tonight. and i had to tell him that it didn't. that it won't. because i will not give in to temptation, in an effort to save some cash, to talk to him without the lawyer. because i know he'll only try to upset me and attack me under the guise of being an excellent communicator who is overly compliant.

dad came up with a brilliant plan.

ask ever what he wants, cash wise, to sign away all of his rights to everything, and be out of the picture forever.

and i have to wonder what it's worth. what he would take. to cut and run. and at this point, as long as the house holds its value until i can sell it, that seems like the best possible idea. i will know in a week. it would make the next rash of financial and physical help my parents put into it all the more worth it. because if he doesn't bail, my dad may as well hand him half right then and there. or set fire to it. either way...

my nightcap is poured. it's funny. the way alice described an ex as the one who normalized daytime drinking for her is the way i feel about divorce normalizing drinking in general for me. the drinks are getting stronger. and they still aren't strong enough.

i made a half-joke last night to kit about substituting a glass of vodka for dinner. because i didn't feel like eating, but felt more like getting drunk.

i didn't do it. but i honestly, really, wanted to. i think of all those episodes of intervention where the people's lives are as fucked up as mine can get. and they just drink an entire bottle of something to get past it for the time being. and yes, eventually all that fucked up-edness piles up into something my life would never look like. but sometimes it all starts because of a divorce.

i stayed up chatting with nina until after midnight. about ever stuff, mostly, i guess. and when i got to the point where i wasn't sleepy at all, but had to try to make myself sleep to get up for work today, i got offline. and put on a buffy to try to sleep to.

and i was laying there. and it was 1211. and my heart started beating out of my chest. i couldn't slow it down. and those are the times that ativan was designed for.

so i took one.

and waited, heart racing, for it to kick in.

and about ten minutes later, i realized that i was calm. and upon realizing it, my heart started racing again, thinking 'wow. it worked. ten minutes. not bad... oh, wait! it isn't working, it isn't working!'

and some time after that i was asleep. and i slept until morning. which rarely happens.

it sucked. palpitations at midnight are really not fun. especially not randomly. laying in bed watching fluff on netflix.

i can't remember when now, but at some point nina asked me about the non-anonymity of blogging. about knowing who reads it controlling what is written.

and it is true. in fact, earlier that same night, at the bar with kit, i'd mentioned it.

saying that if i don't mention people, they might think that i don't care about them. i'm very conscientious of it, and i was talking specifically about a recent post. and it was the same one nina had brought up.

what we were saying was that parts of it seemed like afterthoughts. she was saying that the part i wrote about her was more like a bullet list documentation of things that happened.

and what i was trying to explain, but don't know that i did all that well, is that i was really fixated on reconnecting with brownies while i was home. i wrote so much about it in that post, that, by the time i got to the nina portion of my trip, which was only 24 hours long as opposed to four nights, i wrote a few sentences and moved on. i didn't want to exclude her from the post. but my writing energy was sapped. so i included her, and wrapped it up.

and in talking to her about it, i said that i think that i take her friendship for granted. at that point in the trip, i knew i was heading home and that my time was running out quickly. and the majority of the time i had with nina while i was home happened during those ten days when i didn't write, to write about it.

i still haven't gone back to chalk and everything that happened before reconnecting with brownies. but i think that, because i talk to her so much about every aspect of my life, i forget to give her blogger shout outs.

to balance out the ever note of hatred and loathing, i'd like to write a letter to nina. so here it goes:

dearest nina,

you are my best friend. i think that i know that you'll always be there for me. i don't expect to have some explosive breakup with you, ever, and so i go through every day hoping that i'll have an interaction with you. and knowing that you will be there for me when i need you.

like today.

getting that call from you was exactly what i needed. to not be the only person squawking about what a twisted retarded piece of shit ever is was very helpful.

you get me. you know what to say and when to say it. and because we are so close, you can read between the lines and know that something is amiss. that i need to hear something.

before this volume in my life, you helped me think outside of a shitty situation. and a few months ago, when i was in my delightful self-loathing phase, you wrote a letter to me consisting of 50 reasons why i am lovely. it made me cry in a good way, and i think that letter made me realize just how amazing a friend you are.

i wish that i could have had more time with you. i wish that i could have done better than a 24 hour trip to see you after having only a few days with you distracted by family.

sometimes i think about that letter you wrote me, talking about us being old in neighboring houses, talking about my boy crushes and sipping coffee. how, the day that you sent it, i cried and cried. because the happiness i felt reading that was so far from what i was feeling at the time.

i know that if we lived in the same town, things would be different. i'd see you everyday, and living next door to you wouldn't feel close enough. but i take so much comfort in the fact that distance doesn't factor into our friendship. i mean, it does in a literal sense. but not in how much we still communicate.

you were my first reader, my original fan. i started this blog mostly to keep you informed of what was going on in my life, because i couldn't tell you when ever was around.

and look how far i've come. i have you to thank for that.

sometimes i see you and your family, and i wish that i had your life. something that seems so far from my reach right now, and yet it makes me want it someday. even on the days when i think i'll never love again, and certainly won't find someone to procreate with before my girly parts shrivel up and fall out. your husband is awesome. your kids are two of the coolest people i have ever met. and they're going to be incredible adults someday.

you've known me through all of my shit. all of my glory. you've read just about everything i've ever written, even some journals included. you've known me through every heartbreak and you've smacked me out of my retardedness when i needed to be. and held my hand. and have listened to me cry more times that i can try to count.

when i move home, you will probably get sick of me. but until that happens, i promise to be a better friend to you. i don't know how to repay you for everything you've done for me and given me. but once i think of something as awesome as you deserve, it will be yours. with bells on.

i love you, nina. i don't know where i'd be without you. seriously. you kept my head above water until kit could come along and pull me out of the pool. and you know that i don't take drowning lightly.

i can't wait to be closer. hopefully all this shit ends soon, and i can be the happy girl on the other side that you referred to so long ago.

everything you say stays with me. sometimes i wish you wrote things out for other people to read, because you give fantastic advice. i'd kill for an ounce of your wit and charm. and your 'your mom' jokes.

i'm going to do what i said i'd do this weekend and make a funny video for your kids now.

know that i'm here for you anytime you need me. and the minutes we carve out for each other are what gets me through my day, more often than not.

thank you for never judging me. thank you for never being too far from my reach.


and all was right in the world again.

or, at least, better.

i meant every word i wrote tonight. and my drink is half full, so my sappiness can't be blamed on the liquor.

it's an interesting place to be in, mentally.

i feel like i'm heading for a nervous breakdown. i feel an incredible amount of pressure, complete with unreasonable deadlines, both work and personal. i feel fragile. i feel like, if i started to cry, i might not stop until tomorrow. and then, i'll think of something quirky, and i'll laugh instead, like the crazy person that i am.

'i am gonna make it...through this year...if it kills me.'

i wish the song itself was better. but the mountain goats nailed how i've been feeling for a few months now.

and now for my closing mantra. because i'm just that epic tonight. i'm partially stealing from kit here.

i will survive the next week. and at the end of it, i will still be standing.

what. the. fuck. january 9th.

so i spent as little time yesterday as possible, doing anything but something that could be deemed time well spent.

i slept in late, laid in bed until after two drinking coffee. had two cigarettes all day, and then decided to get dressed and cleaned up and go for a beer. kit joined me, it was a good finish to an otherwise lame day of laying around and doing nothing and being alone in silence.

today, i felt like i needed to make up for lost time. i was up and cleaned by 130 to go to work with kit. i had already pulled up all the things i needed to print out for court with ever. i got denied for the credit card, so i pulled my credit reports. and then my credit score.

and then vented with kit and her coworker, because my score was 763 when we bought the house. and now? 679. that's what ever is doing to me.

i went to kit's for a bit after that, digesting, then came home.

and i watched 'he loves me, he loves me not'. a delightful gem about a fucking psycho stalker. bad idea jeans. goddamn audrey tatou. hoping for a little romantic comedy. suckerpunched.

so that put me in a lovely mindset. about two thirds of the way through the movie, my phone rang.

it was ever.


he called me.

i guess seeing me made him want to get this shit over with. fancy that...

i didn't answer.

i panicked instead.

and then checked my email.

and interestingly enough, something from the lawyer.

apparently that night after the bank run in, ever went home and called my lawyer and talked to him. so today, i got an email from the lawyer telling me he'd explain it all on the phone tomorrow, but that ever wants the three of us to meet and talk and settle all the details. and put the house on the market asap.

that he doesn't want to be in the house anymore.

my mind is beyond blown.

so then my dad called about halfway through 'empire records', which was my favorite movie for a long time during high school. i took that call.

i had told mom about running into ever. so dad called asking about the weather...what else is new. and i could tell he wanted to tell me something. but i told him about running into him, and about the calls and emails today.

and he said that ever had called him.

while i was home.

on family dinner night.

out of the blue, ever called him at the house and talked to him about the blizzard, and that he wanted to talk to him about a few things. and dad was nice and polite and helpful. but then he was having a meeting and people were showing up, could he call him later that night. so dad said he'd call him back later. and when he did he never answered.

so that was interesting also. even more so, because he didn't BOTHER TO TELL ME WHILE I WAS STANDING RIGHT NEXT TO HIM. but whatever. he really wanted to talk to him and know what he was thinking. but ever never gave him the chance.

on the bright side, running away is closer than it's ever been.

i can't call him until i know what they discussed.

tomorrow will be an interesting day.

fucking awesome.

can't hardly wait.