Average Cheating~

"The only thing worse than finding out your boyfriend is cheating on you with a beautiful woman is finding out he's cheating on you with an average woman."

This is the first line in a book that I just bought called "Hope In A Jar". I am only a few chapters in, but I am pretty sure it is going to make the list of recommended books...if only for the amusing description of how Allie found her boyfriend in bed and issuing denials. I loved it.

Not only did I love it, but I loved the first line. I related to the first line. I have been cheated on once. Well, more than once, but by just one man. And he cheated with the same dirty girl over and over. So I am not terribly sure how I should count that? Anyway...after that I think that I made my position very clear on cheating and either scared future boyfriends faithful or just made better boyfriend choices, not really sure which one applies. The end result of no more cheaters was good either way.

Brad cheated on me with a very average, slightly grubby looking girl that was his subordinate at work. Not to make myself sound like all that and a bag of chips, but she definitely wasn't an upgrade. She wasn't prettier than me or smarter than me or more successful than me. She was just some average girl with dishwater blond hair that didn't make him be responsible for ironing his own work shirts or picking up his own dinner dishes.

I am not saying that I would have been happy exactly if he had cheated with a gorgeous girl, but at least there would have been a little understanding. If I could have looked at her and saw that she was way hotter than me I would have still been pissed but it would have made more sense. Cheating on me with this dingy girl was almost like an insult to me...like this was the best he could come up with. I was married to a man that couldn't even get a random hot girl to have an affair with him. He had to pick up this nondescript girl who's paycheck he handed out. How dumb must I have been to have been married to a man that had to do that? It is just one more example of how I have the worst judgement in men ever. Maybe I need to let all my readers pick my next boyfriend....

Ghosts In My House~

So once upon a time an ex-boyfriend and I used to watch this cheesy ghost adventures show on tv and it was kind of a running joke that watching it at night was a good way to get me to spend the night because I hated watching something creepy and then going home to my dark house all alone. I'm not going to say that I am afraid of the dark, it is more that I am jittery about what might lurk IN the dark.

When Brad and I split, I lived on my own for the very first time and I was a slight basketcase. I can admit this and laugh now, but back then I hated being in the house at night alone. I would go through the house after dinner and close every window and put wooden dining room chairs under the doorknobs to the basement door and my bedroom door. I would sleep with the cordless phone on the pillow next to me and it took several weeks before I was able to fall asleep without lying there worrying over every creak of the house.

It has been years since I put a chair under a doorknob and I rarely bother to lift my head off the pillow for any noise anymore - I just assume it is one of my animals and nod back off - but tonight I swear that I kept seeing moving shadows. Not that I ever caught sight of anything specific, but I always felt like something was shifting in my peripheral vision. I had all the lights off while catching up on my DVR and probably about three times I was convinced that I saw movement in the shadows. I still wasn't worried enough to actually close a window or investigate, but I laughed at myself and briefly considered emailing my ex to tell him I was being stalked by a ghost. Briefly.

So at the end of the night I gathered up my bedtime toys (my laptop, cell phone, book of choice, bottled water...what were you thinking?) and headed to my room on the other end of the house. I fed the cat, settled the dogs on the bed where they insist on sleeping no matter how much floor room I give them, and went to use the bathroom before I went to bed myself. My bathroom really isn't very big - it is like a baby rectangle with a window at one end. Right in front of the window is the toilet and a shelving unit for all my girly stuff. So I am sitting on the top of the toilet seat, digging through a basket for some hand lotion....in my dead quiet, ghost infested house....and all of a sudden the curtain behind my head moves and something lands on my arm. I screamed, jumped up, got lotion everywhere, and had a mini little panic attack.....all as my cat jumped down from the back of the toilet and looked at me like I had lost my mind as he nonchalantly made his way to his food dish.

I am now safely ensconced in my bedroom on the one-fifth of the mattress that my dogs left me, bedroom door shut, cell phone charging within arm reach....and I am calling it a victory that I didn't bring a dining room chair in with me for the door knob.

Red Flags~

I like to read dating articles online. I don't know why, they never tell me anything new, and I never really follow any advice anyway - but the headlines pop up on my home page and inevitable I check them out. It amuses me a bit that someone gets paid to write an article telling woman that they should make eye contact and smile to get a man's attention. Really? I want to be paid to write an article telling people how not to trip. My steps will be to tie your shoes and step over objects in your path. That is about as relevant as the smiling advice. In my mind, if you are not smiling or meeting people's eyes when you talk then maybe you have a bigger problem than just finding a date. But that is just my opinion, of course. My degree in psychology is definitely of the armchair variety.

I digress.

In this article that I read a woman wrote an entire book on how to tell if you are marrying the wrong guy and what kind of red flags to look for. An ENTIRE book! Not that I don't believe that there are that many things wrong to watch out for - because that is entirely true - but writing an entire book takes a relatively long time. That is a lot of effort put into what is basically common sense. Not that I am one to talk - I have literally no common sense. I have to learn everything through trial and error. The following is what I learned~

1. Don't date any men that have not lived on their own at least sometime in their life. This is true for so many reasons that I cannot even list them all. I will share one story to make my point. When I first moved in with Brad we had an argument because I didn't move the furniture every single time I vacuumed like his mom did. (She didn't by the way, I called her) Men need to live alone to appreciate the things that you do.

2. Don't date any men that never drive, never offer to pay, or never let you see where they live. I once had a man let me pay for everything on a first date and drive him around all evening. I don't mind paying or driving, but I am never going to be attracted to a man that wants me to be the man on a first date.

3. Any stranger that randomly contacts you on any social networking site? Wierdo. (Or painfully lonely - also not a good dating quality) If he has time to sit around online and search female profiles then he isn't using that time to have a life. Block him.

4. Forget checking out men's bathrooms - I have yet to meet a single man that has a clean bathroom. The first time you go to a man's place - check his kitchen out. If he has nothing in his fridge but beer and nothing in his cupboards but chips - he is still a wanna be frat boy or he is getting his meals from another female. Or he is starving I suppose. All bad options.

5. If you don't click with a man when you kiss...nothing else is going to click either. Quit while you are ahead. Chemistry cannot be forced no matter how many dreams, people, or values you have in common.

6. If you have to work at it too hard - conversation, intimacy, finding common ground- then something is wrong. Your gut knows it but your brain is in denial. Walk away.

7. If a man is intimidated by your successes, your talents, or your high heels - move on. He has issues of his own to deal with before he is going to be ready to appreciate your awesomeness.

8. If your friends and family don't like him - he will never be able to make you happy. You will always be going back and forth between them and him. No matter how great you click, this will stress you out and wear you down.

I am sure there are more, but these are a good beginning. For the rest you will need to buy the book.

Challenge of the Week~

In general, I am not a jaded person. I am much more wide-eyed child than world weary cynic. I like to see the best in people, to keep an open mind, and believe that everyone is capable of changing. But every once in a while this backfires on me and I battle with my inner pessimist to try and see past it. This week has been a serious challenge for me to keep the bitter at bay.

Brad is directly and indirectly involved in this - shocker. After having barely any communication with him for nine months, he emails me out of the blue. Here is where I made my first mistake....I answered him. Not smart, I know, but there is part of me that always has hope that one day the man I married is going to pop back up and be there. Thankfully that is a very small part of me and the bigger, realistic part usually wins. Just not the day he emailed me apparently.

To make a very long story short, I pretty much lay out ground rules that I don't want to keep contact unless he can be honest and straight forward. I just can't handle truth stretchers - and he is a master at it. I just don't have the patience to untangle the stories anymore and find the one thread that is real. So we have dinner, hang out, things go fine. A few days later I catch him in a flat out lie. He couldn't even be around for a week without lying to me! What is up with that? How do people live that way? It blows my mind. And when I call him on it, he tries to make me feel like an idiot for being upset - which is completely his M.O. - turn any situation around so he isn't the bad guy instead of accepting responsibility for anything. Brad is always a victim. So that is that. But I am annoyed with myself for letting him get under my skin and I am frustrated with myself for giving him the benefit of the doubt - for the 42nd time. I don't learn.

So in the middle of this mini-drama, I find out that Brad has been in contact with one of my blog readers. This reader is not someone that I know, but she contacted me back when I was writing Season One and told me a mutual friend had recommended my blog to her. She had also been divorced and we exchanged a couple emails talking about our experiences. After a bit, I found out she knew Brad so I emailed her to let her know of the connection and explained that while I was fine with her being a fan of my blog I wouldn't be comfortable with her being on my personal pages. I just know how Brad operates and I felt it would avoid drama. I didn't distrust her, but I just didn't want to leave a window of opportunity for anything. Apparently, this girl turned around and shared all these personal emails with Brad. And then when I moved to this blog site for Season Two, she asked me to add her as a fan here. Seriously? What is the matter with people? Is it too much to ask for people to say what they mean and have their actions really represent who they are?

So this week has been a challenge for me to not feel jaded. This blog is such an honest piece of me and has provoked such open conversations with many different people. To find out that one of those people was underhanded is just disillusioning. And to deal with that in the same week as I dealt with Brad has just made me....cynical. I am sure that next week I will be back to my usual pollyanna self, but this week may find me indulging in my inner bitch a tad bit more than normal.

Congrats to Wallace and Fiona~

Today, a little after midnight, our heroine's baby brother Wallace and his pretty new wife Fiona had their own baby boy. He is not even twenty four hours old and I am here to report that he is going to be a serious heartbreaker. He is, in a word, spectacular.

New babies always make me incredibly happy and incredibly jaded at the very same time. I have a niece through my marriage to Brad and two of my brothers have each given me a nephew. There is one more gender-fuzzy child in utero, to be making his/her debut in December. (I was not lying when I said my crazy, circus family was in expansion mode.) During all my time with said children and during all the fun baby events and hoopla - I am, for the most part, thrilled to be in that moment. Going home to a child free house at the end of all such hoopla - I am, about half of the time, frustrated at my own lack of prodigy.

I am not a career-minded individual. I have never dreamed of advancement and fulfillment through a job. I worked hard at whatever I did, believing that it would help get me to the point in my life where I could focus on what I thought was most important - starting and raising a family of my own. At the hospital last night while we waited for the appearance of our newest nephew, Lola and I were talking with a few other people about how it takes all kinds to make up the world; about how perfect it is that there are some people that feel a calling for working with the eldery or teaching or management or whatever - because then everyone that follows their passion plays a vital role in our world. I have always felt like my passions in life are all secondary to having the kind of family that I was raised in. I want to create that kind of enviroment for myself and my future kids.

The issue with this is that it is not something I can make happen on my own. Which frustrates me to no end. In life, for the most part, I have been able to achieve whatever I want. I am not afraid of working hard, I learn quickly, and I am willing to put in the effort to get where I want to go. Over the years this has earned me success in my career and in my lifestyle. If something is firmly in my control, then I can make it happen. Families and relationships are not like that. It was a hard lesson to learn when I was with Brad. It didn't matter how hard I worked, how much effort I put in - my marriage couldn't be fixed by myself alone. Having kids is a very similar kind of adventure.

Could I raise a family on my own? Probably. Do I want to? Not really. But the older I get the less I am willing to wait for someone that I think is worth building a family with. I feel like every birthday that passes I stop and evaluate the delicate balance of my life and whether I am ready to risk doing it all along and forever changing the course of my life- or if I should just be patient.

Time shall tell....

Drunk Dialing~

It is almost one in the morning, which isn't surprising because I frequently blog late at night. I have had half a bottle of a pretty satisfying pinot noir, plenty of crunchy French bread (for absorption purposes), and a handful of Double Stuff Oreos - which is pretty much the only way to go anymore. They should just take those ordinary stuffed ones right off the shelf.

Right now the people that know me best are probably reading this through their fingers like when you watch a scary movie - afraid to watch it straight on, but unable to look away. They can see the signs that point to disaster in my world, namely wine and being up by myself at one in the morning. Typically, I make some bad decisions in these situations. Even more so now that technology lets me instantly connect to anyone, at anytime. It is like drunk dialing without all the hassle of making my wine-weighted fingers work that complicated cell phone touch screen. And my lucky recipients can't talk back or hang up. Genius. Damn you Facebook, I love you.

In the past, I have been a prolific drunk dialer. I am a chatty drinker to begin with, so that does not work in my favor. When everyone else that I am drinking with falls asleep or passes out - I am forced to go in search of someone else to listen to me prattle. Typically this is a sober person that I wake up and then say "oh? you are awake? Great!" I am also a drunk dialer whore - I will call anyone. I don't limit myself to ex's or significant others. Siblings, friends, strangers on a drinking buddy's phone...all fair game. As long as this person isn't an ex, I am usually forgiven and listened to. As a rule, ex's are less than thrilled. Also, if it is early enough in the evening and I call my mom - she will yell at me and then call me at an obscene hour the next morning purely to set off a hangover headache.


Even with all of this however, I don't hold the record as the worst drunk dialer of my acquaintance. That title goes to Wallace, who we all learned recently was married in Vegas. Well, back before he knew his bride - he liked to drink vodka at my house back when I was married to Brad. Brad found it hysterical to get Wallace all liquored up - primarily because Wallace is a very big guy and when he drinks he falls into and over EVERYTHING. (I stopped letting them play in the house when he fell ON my coffee table and crushed it.) The all time favorite drunk dial involved Wallace calling one of our sisters, thinking he got her voice mail, and talking for about three quarters of an hour about God was cursing him because he wasn't 'getting any'. I will forever have a mental picture of Wallace sitting drunk in my recliner, pointing at the ceiling and telling God if he really loved him, then he would give him some 'tail'. I have never been prouder as a big sister.

So all the signs would seem to suggest that tonight I was setting myself up for a memory that I would rather not make - because let's face it - those phone conversations never go the way you want them to go. Chet wasn't going to hear me on the phone with a wine slur and instantly think I was so much more attractive. Or read an email that liquor logic put together and think I was so much smarter. And tomorrow morning I would not be proud of myself for speaking my sloshed mind and being open and honest about all my feelings. However, perhaps due to my increasing maturity or maybe just because I have seen how this plays out a time or two now, tonight I wisely enlisted the help of my sisters to keep me off my phone and I am forcing you to read my online ramblings - thus saving me the morning after mortification on both fronts. So my pride thanks you for your unwitting and unwilling participation. Also, my apologies to my mother - who is going to be less than thrilled to read about Wallace's drunk dial. Now, I am off to bed....as soon as I add more bread to my grocery list~

Season Two Intro~

Commence Season Two! If you are a loyal follower...thanks and welcome back. Hopefully this second blog installment will be equally amusing, touching, random, and interesting. If you are a new convert.....welcome to the insanity that is my thought process. If you'd like to catch up then check out my links for the first season of my blogging - Divorce Isn't For Sissies.

As a recap - here is the character list from Season One:

Stephanie - Our heroine - the witty and wonderful...me.

Chet - My sexy boyfriend - who let me blog all about our new romance in Season One. And who let me call him Chet even though it makes me think he is a farmer. (He is not an actual farmer - unless you count all the love he grows in my heart....awwwwww...[That was just for you Cindy - did we decide on an alias for you yet?])

Lola - One of my sisters - the one who actually knows where all the bodies are buried. Lola was also a guest blogger last season and may make a Season Two appearance.

Jen Aniston - the actual Jen Aniston - who was unknowingly my BFF during my divorce. As it is in life, we are no longer as close in my imagination as we once were,
but I wish her well.

Jenn - My real BFF, who actually needs a good alias before I can write her into Season Two. She is the un-divorced version of me that I didn't realize walked the earth until about a year ago. She also just got a super sexy hair makeover.

Sasha - A (sometimes) mature, good friend that indulges in my wine habit with me and assisted me in creating one of my most shameful Jack-induced memories.

Julia - A younger friend of mine that reminds me of myself pre-Brad that is still Prince hunting. All of us need to be on the lookout for a worthy prince for her. I have a Cracker Jack box prize for anyone with a worthy candidate.

Brad - My ex-husband, who's storyline has pretty much been terminated but was around for so long that he may be mentioned from time to time as background.

Mr. John Black - An ex-boyfriend after my split from Brad that was not a great fit for my life, but had an instrumental role in helping me get my groove back.

Delilah - My God-given overworked and beloved guardian angel. Yes, an actual angel.


Season Two's actual premiere will be sometime next week, as our heroine is about to embark on an adventure to Sin City with two new cast members...Fiona and Wallace. I am sure that we will create all new blog-worthy tales of mischief....the stories of which will soon follow....VIVA LAS VEGAS!