Archive for April, 2005
DULUTH, Ga. - On what was to be her wedding day, Jennifer Wilbanks wore not a white veil but an orange towel over her head to prevent the media from taking her picture. Instead of being led down the aisle by her father, she was led by police to an airplane that flew the runaway bride home.
By CHARLES ODUM, Associated Press Writer
Continue Reading April 30th, 2005
Settlement Agreement (written by Endicott at the LA Times Festival of Books)
The parties to this agreement Florence, hereafter called Flo, and Endicott, hereafter called Endicott, mutually agree to settle their financial obligations and claims arising from their divorce proceedings in the following manner.
For a lump sum of XXX Dollars and no Cents ($XXX.00) Flo agrees to fully release Endicott form any other claims and financial obligations, present and/or future, arising out of these divorce proceedings now and forever.
Flo hereby stipulates that she fully and completely understands the financial conditions of their household during their marriage, that she understands the provisions of this agreement, that she will not incur any other financial obligation to burden their joint tenancy, nor will she bring obligations she incurred under her own name into these proceedings. Flo further stipulates and that she takes this action freely and without duress.
Flo agrees that she received a partial payment of XXX Dollars and no Cents ($XXX.00) on ______________________ part of this stipulated $XXX settlement.
For the partial payment of XXX Dollars and no Cents ($XXX.00) in advance, and for Flo’s continued cooperation in the harmonious dissolution of their marriage, and for her pledge and promise to execute all necessary documents expeditiously and to make herself available to all required proceedings, Endicott agrees to additional incremental payments to Flo of XXX Dollars and no Cents ($XXX.00) every month for a period of not to exceed three (3) month from the date when the divorce documents are filed with the court and Notice by Flo is accepted and or waived.
Endicott further agrees to pay Flo the balance of the stipulated amount within thirty (30) calendar days from the date of the Court’s final dispensation of the case and the recording of the divorce decree in the recorder’s office of the respective jurisdiction.
Both parties further agree that this settlement is final, there shall be no further changes or amendments, and that the agreement shall be incorporated in the divorce proceedings and made part of the final decree.
April 25th, 2005
I have been a little busy for the last couple of days. I hit the LA Times Festival of Books over the weekend. Bought a ton of books, had a few of them signed, heard a fantastic question and answer session with Kevin Smith — totally my type (more on that later!). All in all, it was a great time — until I met up with Endicott at the book faire.
Let’s just say, I’m sure our little “talk” will end up on someone else’s blog. I see the words yelling and jackasses in the description.
We were trying to finalize the details of our divorce settlement. We didn’t get very far before voices were raised, names were called, and we took our little argument from one end of the campus to another. Fighting isn’t the coolest thing to do in public, so to everyone at the Festival of Books, I apologize. Bad, bad Flo!
Today was my deadline for signing the divorce agreement. Of course, that didn’t happen. Endicott agreed to my terms, but not really. He said yes, I agree to do this, but I have some reservations. About twenty (20) of them.
Endicott: How do I know you won’t change your mind about the terms?
Flo: Well, we’ll write out the terms, I’ll sign the document and we can have a lawyer handle the rest of the filings.
Endicott: Have you had your attorney draw up the documents yet?
Flo: No, I haven’t. But we don’t need a lawyer for this part. We write up the agreement, listing the first part of the settlement payment and have the lawyer draw up the rest.
Endicott: So you haven’t spoken to your attorney? When are you going to speak with her?
Flo: We just talked about this yesterday, on a Sunday. I haven’t had a chance to call her yet. It doesn’t really matter.
Endicott: So you’re not going to speak to her? We can’t move on until you have your attorney look at the agreement (Endicott wrote). That’s for your own protection.
Flo: Whether I spoke with her this morning or speak to her ten minutes from now, it doesn’t make a difference. It’ll take time to draw up the agreement, and get it back to us. Then there will be revisions. I have a deadline that needs to be met today. You’ve known about this for a week and a half now. You agreed to this. If you don’t want to do this, then say no. Otherwise, this needs to happen now.
Endicott: No, no, I’m going to do this. But you have to have your attorney or someone else read this agreement so you can be sure this is something you want to do. I’m worried that you won’t be protected.
Flo: Look, whenever I speak to my attorney is not your business. I have a deadline that needs to be met today. You agreed to do this. If you don’t want to do this, then say no. But if this is going to happen, it needs to happen now.
Endicott: Well, how do I know you won’t change your mind again?
Flo: Endicott, if you don’t want to do this, just say so. You don’t have to do this. It’s okay to say no. I’ll deal with it.
Endicott: Oh, so now you’re telling me what I want to do.
Flo: No, I’m not. But I need to know for sure if you’re going to do this. I need for this to happen today.
Endicott: I said I would help you. But now you’re telling me how I feel. And there’s no guarantee you won’t change the terms again.
Flo: I’m not telling you how you feel. I said I would sign an agreement, and not change the terms of the settlement.
(By then, I was parked in front of pump eight (8) at the Yorba Linda Arco station. Some obviously divorced man rolled his eyes at me.)
Flo: I can’t talk about this right now. I have to go, but I’ll call you back. Bye.
From there, it just went baaaaaaaaaaaaad. But the good news is, I’ve been saving Endicott’s angry, rambling voicemail messages. They will be online very soon.
Until then, I’m posting the settlement agreement he wrote Sunday afternoon.
April 25th, 2005
My last night in Vegas was interesting. I never did make it to the Hilton to spy on idiotexhusbands (see the April 18th, 2005 post for details). Instead, I hung out with a really nice man I met, okay, this is going to sound soooooo bad, in the bar in Jimmy Buffet’s Margaritaville, in the Tropicana hotel.
I swear I don’t normally do that sort of thing. Actually, since my separation from Endicott, I do a lot of things I normally wouldn’t; I travel alone, I eat alone, and I talk to strangers.
We sat beside each other in silence, save for the occasional drink request from the bartender. I read the book, Who let the blogs out? A hyperconnected peek at the world of weblogs by Biz Stone. He watched the Yankees game on the plasma screen TV.
After a long while, he asked, “Excuse me, what is a weblog?” From there we chatted a bit. His name is Dennis; he works as an environmental consultant; he did some work for the Donald (Trump) many years ago, but didn’t meet him (and had no interest in doing so); he once spent three months traveling throughout Europe; currently lives on Long Island, NY.
I’ve been to lots of bars over the years. I could never understand why total strangers strike up a conversation and seem so invested in it. Call me crazy, but talking with Dennis wasn’t forced or uncomfortable, so I just went with it. When he invited me to walk up the strip with him to check out the new Wynn hotel, I said sure, why not.
FYI, the Wynn hotel is closed until April 29th; and the Neiman Marcus –OMG, he’s never been to Neiman — across the street closes at 8pm. So, we headed south, still winging it.
When we reached Treasure Island, he mentioned his car was there. I wondered, is this a hint? Am I being being picked up? Is this something I want to do? Am I just so desperate for attention that I’m making this up? Whatever the case, I think I’ll assume it was an invitation and pass. For now, anyway.
We went to the Paris hotel for desert and coffee. All in all, it was a pleasant way to spend an evening. I would totally do it again.
Thanks, Dennis of Long Island, for making my last evening in Vegas very special.
April 22nd, 2005
Wednesday was a gorgeous day in Southern California. My friend Bebe and I were seated on the patio at Jake’s in Del Mar. We hit the happy hour appetizers, sipped cocktails, and chatted about this fabulous town she calls home.
She’s not the only new resident in DM these days. Mister A-list movie star, Brad Pitt just moved there as well. The latest Brad & Jen rumor circulating the area says he bought a house here because DM has the cleanest air quality in California; all the better to increase their chances of having a baby. Whatever the reason, he’s here now, and San Diego County is on Pitt Watch 2005.
I hate to admit it, but so was I.
When I was at the beach, playing with Bebe’s son on the playground, and walking the trails, I paid much more attention to the men in the area, especially the blond men!
So with this in mind, I said to Bebe, “You know, Brad Pitt will soon be single again. He is just down the hill from your home…and he wants to have children (Fyi, Bebe has two boys). It might not hurt to go to the beach more often.” Wink-wink, nudge-nudge, as they say in Monty Python skits.
Sure, talented, successful, super sexy, independently wealthy men make ideal boyfriend (or in my case, rebound) material but there are those paparazzi/stalker freaks that come with BP. Bebe doesn’t think she can handle those guys, or the photos of her conditioning her hair, or wearing her clothes inside out while she paints in her garage. I think I could because that’s how I look in most of my parents’ photo albums anyway. What I couldn’t take is seeing my relatives on the Montel Williams show, getting talked into holding our yearly family reunion at the Pitt compound, explaining to everyone that BP probably won’t put the whole family on the Plan B payroll. Yes, I put A LOT of thought into this. Does this make me one of those freaks Bebe wants to avoid? Oh yes.
Later that evening, I told my Aunt Molly about my BP fantasy. She paused for a minute, “Well, you know who you should really date is So-and-So (I forgot his name, sorry, So-and-so!) of the San Diego Padres. He is a handsome man. Do you know what those ball players make a year? (Uh, no.) It is a lot of money. I read an article on him in a local magazine. He has a beautiful condo. And he bought another one for his mother, but they don’t live together.”
Um, maybe I misunderstood what just happened, but did my Aunt Molly just try to discourage me from fantasizing about BP? Not dating/sleeping with/marrying, but FANTASIZING. I’m not polished/beautiful/cool enough to DREAM about someone I’ll probably never meet?
[And even if I did, I'd probably say something silly; like the time I met Vendela, the gorgeous Swedish supermodel, and promptly said, "Hey, I know you!" Yes, Flo, everyone does because she's been on the cover of every magazine known to man. Duh!]
I’m supposed to give up my movie star “boyfriend” for the dirty, sweaty, tobacco chewing, momma’s boy? Actually, now that I think about it, maybe a dirty, sweaty, but sweet, rebound man (with loads of stamina) could be just what I need. Also, I’ve been meaning to go to a baseball game this year. Hmmm, this could be very interesting.
April 21st, 2005
Endicott called me yesterday. As usual, he was upset, and in full use of his multi-tasking abilities. First he vented, then he apologized, and finally, he blamed me for his bad reputation.
Specifically, the issue was his unjustified (ha! I say) rep for lying. His main complaint was that some of his friends assume he doesn’t tell the truth. That strikes me as odd, since I’ve been saying this for years! Yes, YEARS. But noooooooobody listens to me!
For some reason, he doesn’t see why anyone would think he plays fast and loose with the truth. Here is how he explains my “misunderstanding” of his character:
I’m not a liar. It took me a long time to understand why you feel that I am a liar. On some occasions, I did not tell you the truth. That was because it was easier to lie than have an argument about how I really felt about something. I did later change my mind, and tell the truth, so that’s why it seemed like I lied. I probably should have told you the truth in the first place. But at the time, I was just trying to keep the peace between us. I didn’t want to argue with you. I love you so much. You are the best thing that ever happened to me. I just wanted to make you happy. I was wrong, and I see that now.
Endicott, however you justify it, its not okay to lie. You do it enough times, then, surprise surprise, people stop trusting/believing/liking you. Before you know it, your only friend is the Boy Who Cried Wolf.
As far as our disagreements go, I knew when you lied to me, even if you wouldn’t admit it. I called you on it at the time(s) it (repeatedly) happened. It usually took several months before you recanted your original statement and admitted how you really felt. You would then apologize, only to lie yet again and start another hellish argument.
So, dumbass, forgive me if I’m not exactly sympathetic to your situation.
Kiss my grits,
April 20th, 2005
I’m writing from the annual National Association of Broadcasters (NAB) convention in Las Vegas. I was hoping to report on any idiotic ex husband behavior happening in the halls or the hotels. So far, nothing sensational happened, unless you count the number of crablegs I chowed down at the all-you-can-eat seafood buffet.
Call me crazy, but I’m almost certain I’ll see or hear something scandalous (read: worth posting online). I might have to park myself at the Las Vegas Hilton (located next to the convention center and often headquarters for many vendors) tonight, and wait for something to happen. It IS Vegas after all. Something is always happening here.
Viva LV & the NAB,
April 18th, 2005
I haven’t written a single, solitary post since the 12th. Apparently, my promises don’t mean a damn thing. But I was out living my life, baby! And gathering major ammunition for my next couple of posts. I’ll write out all the dirty, dirty details very soon.
Until then, check out my new forum. My first topic ever: nominate a celebrity iditot ex-husband for IXH of the year. So far, there’s a vote for Kevin Federline. Wow, its going to be hard to top that one!
April 15th, 2005
I read someplace that one should never drink and write. Right now, the piercing pain in my skull tells me that writing while in pain might be an equally bad idea. I promise, promise, promise to write a fully formed, mind-blowing post (for once!) tomorrow evening. Until then, sign me:
Pained in Perris,
April 12th, 2005
I feel like a Mac truck hit me. Not because I just woke up from a (three hour) nap. It’s mostly guilt, frustration, and this sick, queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach because Endicott kept calling me this morning. Actually, his calls aren’t the real problem. It’s that he lost touch with reality. He just doesn’t get that we are over.
At first, he wanted to meet for lunch. When I explained my lunch plan to meet with my Mom, he decided to forgo the personal meeting and just talk over the phone. Usually, when he wants to “talk” it is to ask when will I come home (to him). This time it was to ask if I would take him back.
His phone call kind of freaked me out (go figure!), so I decided to cheer myself up with a movie. “Be Cool” was already playing, so I bought a ticket for the next available film, “Fever Pitch”. Holy crap, I thought I felt bad before I walked into the theatre!
Okay, I’ll admit I shouldn’t have seen a romantic comedy when I was in an altered (read depressed) state, but I cannot be held responsible for that piece o’ crap film. Not only was it a waste of my time, but also it totally wasted the actors in the film. Jimmy Fallon, and Drew Barrymore seemed awkward, and out of synch at times. The biggest mistake of the movie was giving the phenomenally talented, Ione Skye, about ten lines; ten measly lines, in a nothing role. Ugh!
Sure, there was the occasional cute moment and funny line, but not enough to save this film. I swear, the Farrelly Brothers soooooo owe me an apology! Especially after realizing this was a remake of the 1997 movie,”Fever Pitch,” starring Colin Firth. Now that’s the movie I should have seen!
Goodnight, and I’ll be waiting for that apology, Boys!
April 11th, 2005
I’ll admit it: I was taking notes on the couple seated behing me at Starbucks in the Sherman Oaks Galleria.
They seemed to be on a blind date. They introduced themselves and quickly shared the details of their lives for everyone (in Starbucks, anyway) to hear.
She’s been divorced twice, hails from the East Coast and says yeah a lot. He’s 33, and owns a condo in Westwood with his wife. They turned in the divorce papers a year ago last Friday, but aren’t anywhere near finalizing their divorce. Everything was pleasant until his cell phone rang and he took her call. He said something about changing the settlement, then his voice turned tense. Of course, that was exactly when the stoned Latino guy next to me leaned over and asked what I was doing. “I’m writing for my website idiotexhusband.com.” Suddenly, the couple behind me got very quiet.
So, people, you’ve been warned! If you share your divorce stories in Starbucks, expect it to end up here, too!
April 10th, 2005
I just reread last night’s post. Holy moley, it looks like I drank and typed! (That’s a reference to the movie, “Sideways.” Rent it, it rocks.) I’ve sent drunken emails that were WAY less confessional than that! Well, I guess this whole “spill your guts on the net” thing is supposed to be good for me. We’ll see. Feel free to make a comment and let me know what you think, good, bad or indifferent.
I’m parked here at Starbucks wondering what to write about next. A friend suggested I make a list of twenty (20) topics about which to write, such as my personal stories, things I’ve overheard, and just comments on things I read about on the ‘net (Sidebar, y’all don’t EVEN know how close I came to writing an open letter to Prince Charles regarding his expected apology to Andrew Parker Bowles. You know the story, so I won’t go into it here, except to say his selfish ass should be apologizing to his poor, dead wife and the people of England. Talk about a royal idiotexhusband. But I’ll spare you that rant, for the moment.)
There’s the stuff I overheard in Costa Rica, such as the Canadian lawyer taking a “break” from work and his pregnant wife to sleep with hookers (Canook idiot!). There’s the handsome Tico guy who asked me out. Instead of accepting his invitation, I freaked out, locked myself in my hotel room and made international long-distance phone calls. That was one expensive night, because I was being an idiot! Or the poor woman who walked in on her husband and her goat. I swear I’m not making this up. Out of the three of us, I think her husband (bestiality idiot!) wins “idiot of the year”. But, then again, the year is still young.
There are always the countless stories women have told me, but that’s something only they can post for themselves. Don’t worry, ladies, your secrets are safe with me.
All in all, there is a lot to cover, more categories to add, and a ton of links I plan to share. Since I’m really new to this format, bear with me while I get this site and myself — together.
April 10th, 2005
It’s 8:30pm on a Saturday night as I sit here at my mom’s kitchen table nursing a hangover.
I’m armed with ibuprofen, a venti Starbucks plastic cup filled with tap water, and a low-carb burger. The sad thing is I wasn’t drinking last night. I feel sick from having dinner with my husband, well, soon to be ex-husband, Endicott.
He’s a nice person, and so very funny, but that isn’t enough to keep us happily together. Anytime we meet, one of us usually leaves angry. Last night was no exception.
The one bright moment happened over platters of savory crepes. We discussed my plans for a new website called idiotexhusband.com. “How am I not supposed to be offended?” he smiled and rested his chin in his hands. It’s not about you, Endicott. It’s about community, sharing, and lots of venting! He gave me his blessing, and said it was a great idea.
With all our disagreements, it’s nice to know we can still share a pleasant moment and agree on something. Unfortunately, that lasted about ten minutes before we got back to raised voices and pointed fingers.
These days, it seems this is the best we can hope for each other: a few laughs in the middle of our anger and frustration. I know that things will (eventually) calm down and we’ll be friends again. Until then, I expect to have lots of “love hangovers”.
But writing this helps, just a little. This is what I hope for others visiting this site: a much needed break from the stress, a forum for divorced, and soon-to-be divorced women, to share their common experiences, and enjoy a much needed laugh, especially when times get tough.
April 9th, 2005