Showing posts with label dooce of love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dooce of love. Show all posts

Saturday, November 17

Shut up, Scary Mary! SHUUUUUUUUUUUUUT UUUUUUUUP.

'Kay, I am not a fan of things that start on their own. If I want to hear it, there is a "Play" button conveniently located. Mary is annoying the shit out of me on my own freaking blog. So Wrong.

So, it's just meh. Yes I had a quiet family dinner the night before my birthday, but upon further reflection, I made dinner and I got us all there, and that was a present to myself. The honey was an ass last night, and if I enjoyed listening to him puke, well, it still doesn't count as a present.

I feel stupid and childish that I am completely butt-hurt that my parents didn't call on or around my birthday. I am 37 years old, it's not like I doubt that they love me, so I feel whiny and needy. My brother called me from Disneyland (Okay, my birthday is also his anniversary, so it's hard for him to forget), my uncle, who I never talk to, emailed me. It's been almost a week and I have not heard anything from my mother.

I hate being whiny and feeling stupid. Hate it. I feel greedy and stupid for wanting the honey to get me a present--but would it kill you to show the foresight to get me a card? To figure something out BEFORE my birthday? I am wallowing here, and I cannot stand to be in my own head. But he was a complete ass last night, so it just unleashed the flood. Resentment and long term grudge, thy name is Jennifer.


This has been another whiny self pitying post by jen. I should probably have some Bon Jovi playing.

Tuesday, February 13

Sing it to the tune of Duke of Earl, 'Kay?

Dooce, Dooce, Dooce,
Dooce of Love...

That's me!

I have managed to blog my way right out of my relationship with the honey. Oh, there were other things wrong, and this was just the crowning glory, but he essentially went through my sent emails until he found the email to TrueWifeConfessions from last July. He was looking for ideas for my Valentine's present, you see.

I may be a little bitchy on my blog, but I hold my tongue at home, in part because I live with a man from a mexican family, and while HE throws fits, I am not allowed to be angry. That is his job in our relationship. So when I found TWC, I thought it was the perfect time to get things off of my chest. I wrote a nasty little note about my less than perfect birthday proposal--the one where I sat sobbing and miserable through dinner, begging him to stay and eat fucking dinner with me--then he took me to the bar and proposed! I was pissed about something else, but I blogged about the proposal, because I still can't believe he wouldn't have decided at about the time the dishes were cleared and we were still sitting in miserable stony silence that maybe he should wait to pop the question. I'll be posting the full post later, (and it WAS awful) because that's one of the things he demanded--that I send the post to everyone I know so they could see how I had betrayed him. I will, never fear. I'll have it translated into spanish. I know a lot of mexicans anymore.

He's threatened to leave me before, but I sobbed and begged him to stay. This time he wanted me to read the TWC post out loud and I refused. Then he told me that if I didn't read it, he'd wake up Big O and make HIM read it out loud. Crossed the line there, motherfucker. Don't.mess.with.my.kids.

It's not that I'm not torn up, but I've been watching my life from a distance for a while now, wondering who it was I was seeing, that would take that kind of a shit from a man--any man, let alone one who claimed to love me. I'd kill the man that treated my daughter like that, and aren't I teaching her that it's okay?

I just felt that my bloggy friends needed to know why my blog and my beloved dorkblogging may be a little light for a while. Or who knows? maybe it will be really heavy. But I hope at the end, he will be a better father to our daughter if he has to step up and take a more active role in her care. As long as little O still grows up sane and happy, it will ultimately be a good thing. Still hurts, though. Like a motherfucker. yep. hurts.