Archive for June, 2005
Endicott sent a postcard from Italy. It was addressed to me in my full married name. Do you think he is ready to let go? No, I don’t think so.
I was a little freaked out by the card because I didnâ€™t know he had my new address. It took a few seconds before I realized he got it from our divorce papers. So much for hiding out! I give it one month before he drops by my apartment uninvited. Ughâ€¦Now I’ll have to move again. It is a good thing I only signed a six-month lease.
Hereâ€™s what he wrote:
In Italy, Florence the city is known as Firenza (a name upgrade for you). I have about 360 pictures on the camera so far and will load them to disk soon and take many more so it has been real helpful. Hope you are doing well. Wish you were here.
Love always — Endicott
Since you probably donâ€™t speak â€˜Endicottâ€™ allow me to translate the above message for you:
In Italy, Florence the city is known as Firenza (a name upgrade for you).
The â€˜name upgradeâ€™ refers to our fights over the condescending way he speaks to me. The entire course of our relationship, he addressed me through the following names: Flo, Flobee, (the occassional) Flo-Jo, Bun, Bun-Bun, Bun Head, Bunny, Bunny Bun-Bun, Bunny Baby, Baby.
As soon as I moved out, that changed. He began calling me Florence. Not just Florence, but Floor-rents. As in Floor-rents, you’ve been bad! Bad doggie! Bad doggie, Floor-rents! Outside, Floor-rents! Outside, now!…I love dogs, but I don’t like being spoken to as one that just pooped on the kitchen floor. So, Endicott, you can call me Flo or Florence. One more Floor-rents and I’m changing my phone number, you condescending jackass.
I have about 360 pictures on the camera so far and will load them to disk soon and take many more so it has been real helpful.
He borrowed the digital camera from me. Its one of my money wasting expenditures he likes to yell at me about. When he makes a purchase, like the surround sound speakers he bought three years ago that are still sitting unopened in a box in the back corner of his house, its all good. When I buy something, it is a waste of money. (What me bitter? Oh yes.) He yells at me about money, but is perfectly happy to make use of my stuff when it suits him.
Hope you are doing well.
Okay, that was sincere, so no snippy comments from me.
Wish you were here.
Yeah, that was sincere, too. He really likes me when heâ€™s not spitting mad at me.
Love always — Endicott
I bet thatâ€™s true, too. But seriously, dude, you have to let go. Its over.
I know it’s hard to believe, but I’m not always pissed off at Endicott. Check out this email I got from him yesterday:
I had tradidtional Viennese food with Uncle Carlo…he is an old Simon Le Bon and der Komissar in one trippy package. Rock Me Amadeus!
Now that’s the Endicott I knew and fell in love with many, many moons ago. He was fun, and sometimes so damn funny it hurt. I hope he gets back to that happy place soon. That’s the Endicott I wish I was with.
Write me — that includes the old Endicott, too,
June 26th, 2005
Iâ€™ve been getting questions about some of my posts. If one person asks a question, Iâ€™m guessing others might be wondering the same thing. So Iâ€™ll address these questions here and share the answers with everyone.
I know you have mentioned your husband’s tirades to you over the phone several times. It is possible to avoid them by just trying to communicate rationally via e-mail … or does this not work either?
I touched on this topic with my May 16th post, â€œBring on the Pain.â€ Read it and weep:
So should it really be a surprise that I refuse to speak to him? I donâ€™t think so. Especially if I repeatedly say, â€œIâ€™m so upset, I cannot speak to you. Only contact me via email.â€ But apparently, he was shocked, shocked I tell you! My dumbass husband actually invited my mother to lunch so he could ask her the following question:
Is Flo mentally well? She gets so angry out of nowhere; Iâ€™m concerned about her mental health.
When it comes to Endicott, email is my preferred medium for communication. It is direct and leaves very little room for interpretation. If he sighs or rolls his eyes, I wonâ€™t know â€“ and thatâ€™s the way I like it! Unfortunately, he doesnâ€™t feel the same way. Heâ€™d rather yell at me so he can share his misery; and most likely, shame me or guilt trip me into doing his bidding. I had seven years of that manipulative crap. No more, thanks.
So to answer your question, I tried that — and it didnâ€™t work.
If there is retirement and/or IRA funds involved that are in each of your names, it would seem to make sense that they should stay in their respective names (because of tax issues and common sense issues), and not be split, especially if they are near equal. If there are other assets (such as a house), then I would think it would be fair to split the value of the house between the parties, especially if it was purchased after you were married. If the house was purchased by your husband before you were married, and if someone (you) is trying to be fair, then why not split the increase in the value of the house for the time that you were in it? Either way, you are probably entitled to half of it, if you wanted to go down that path, unless California law is wacko …
Common sense, community property, fair distribution of the assets all sound good to meâ€¦ I tried that, too. And that didnâ€™t work either. Hereâ€™s why: Endicott is only interested in sharing my (considerably smaller) assets, not his. For whatever reason, he wanted me to leave with nothing acquired during the course of our five year marriage. (Even down to the damn china we received as wedding gifts!) If I left with anything more than that, it was â€˜theft.â€™ Nice, huh?
Hope that answers your questions. If you think of any others, feel free to add them to my comments section below, and Iâ€™ll get back to you with all the scary details.
Married to misery,
June 25th, 2005
Divorce sucks. This whole starting over thing can be pretty tough. Sure, things will eventually calm down and Iâ€™ll get back to a normal life. In the meantime, I have to make many sacrifices, most of which are tolerable. I learned to live without reliable internet access, fudgsicles (the local Pavilions grocery store doesnâ€™t stock â€˜em!), and a working A/C in my car (I live in the Valley, ladies. Its really friggin’ hot here!). But some things are just non-negotiable; like shopping. Thereâ€™s only so much sacrifice a girl can take!
After much internal bickering, I finally gave into my baser needs and walked into Bloomingdales’ Sherman Oaks location last Wednesday.
I was immediately flagged down by a make-up counter gal. She lead me to the Benefit Cosmetics area and got straight down to business. In a bright, sunny voice she asked, â€œWould you be interested in a cosmetic demonstration today?â€ I have tons of free time on my hands these days, so I said sure, lay it on me, Sista. Actually, I said, sure, thatâ€™d be great.
Her name is Lisa, and she has a great look. Think a modern Louise Brookes; flawless skin, straight hair with soft edges to her bob; a natural shape of her lips, but covered in a striking red lip stick; subtle tattoos peeking out from under her shirt sleeves. On her, it works.
She worked her magic for about a minute before asking what Iâ€™m looking for.
Flo: Well, Iâ€™ll be honest with you, Lisa: Iâ€™m in a middle of a bitter divorce and Iâ€™m looking for a little pampering. What would you recommend?
Lisa: Ohhhhhhhhh, Iâ€™m sorry.
She continued dabbing makeup to my cheeks for another minute before saying, â€œWe have a lot of luxurious body products. Iâ€™ll show them to you when weâ€™re done.â€ As she leaned in closer to me, her voice lowered as she said, â€œYeah, marriage is hard. Iâ€™m married, and sometimes, it can tough.â€
Between the sales pitches (â€œThis is a great blush, with a pretty pink color that will look fantastic on your cheeks.â€ ) we talked about my impending divorce and marriage in general. It was a private conversation between two married gals, so I wonâ€™t publish the details here. Iâ€™ll just say Lisa was kind, sincere, and shared enough to really help put things in perspective.
After all of that, I only bought a new foundation. But here is a list of products Lisa used and recommended during my little make-over:
Primer: â€˜dr. feelgood,â€™ $24
Playsticks foundation: â€˜hopscotch,â€™ $30
Blush: â€˜catch me if you can,â€™ $15
Brow: â€˜brow zings (medium),â€™ $26
Shadows: â€˜me, myself and I,â€™ â€˜groundhog day,â€™ and â€˜lazy boy,â€™ $14 each
Lipgloss: (forgot the name, sorry!) $14
Makeup total: $151
Potions and lotions:
Pineapple facial polish, $24
â€˜Dear Johnâ€™ facial cream, $28
Bathina â€˜Touch me then try to leaveâ€™ cream, $26
Bathina â€˜Body so fine,â€™ $26
Bathina â€˜Sandal scandalâ€™ $34
Potions and lotions total $138
Grand total: $289
Beauty may be expensive at Bloomingdales, but the advice @ Benefit is free and priceless. When you stop by Lisaâ€™s booth, say hi for me.
I feel pretty,
June 24th, 2005
Two weeks ago, my best bud, Jean Luc, asked me to take his precocious five year old daughter, Faith, out for the day. We decided Iâ€™d take her to Disneyland. First, weâ€™d meet up for breakfast, then, Faithie and I would head off for Anaheim, CA. She was so excited about the trip, she woke up early that morning. All through breakfast, she asked, â€˜When are we going to leave?â€™ and â€˜Flo, can we leave now? Please?â€™
As we drove down the 5 freeway towards Orange County, I turned the radio up loud. We sang as many songs as we knew and danced in our seats. One of the songs playing that morning was No Doubtâ€™s, â€œUnderneath It All.â€ Faithie said, â€œI donâ€™t know why, but this song makes me think of my boyfriend.â€ Yes, she has a boyfriend. Itâ€™s cute and completely innocent. I think I was in my mid-twenties before I had a real boyfriend, but thatâ€™s a long story, and not so cute and innocent. But I digressâ€¦Cuddling her stuffed animal, Faithie continued, â€œIâ€™m going to listen to this song and think of my boyfriend. Flo, you can listen to this song, and think of your husband, Endicott.â€
For a split second, I did just that.
you’re really lovely underneath it all
you really love me, underneath it all
I remembered sitting at the kitchen table with Endicott right after I told him I was leaving our marriage. At one point, he said, â€œWe have to talk about your Roth IRA.â€
I immediately stiffened because I knew what he meant. In my most strident I-swear-to-God-I-will-hurt-you-if-you say-what-I-think-youâ€™re-going-to-say voice, I said, â€œWhat about it?â€
â€œWell, half of it is mineâ€¦â€ he tapered off. Iâ€™m sure he was frightened off topic by the red glow of fireballs burning in my eyes.
â€œNo. Those funds are mine. Mine. A gift from you to me.â€ He seemed to want to say more, but didnâ€™t. I continued on my tirade, â€œItâ€™s not like Iâ€™m asking for half of the house, half your retirement or alimony. I just want to take the things I had before we were married, and the gifts I was given during our marriage. Thatâ€™s it. Unless you want to split everything, donâ€™t ask me about my IRA again! I mean it, Endicott, never again.â€
i’m really lucky, underneath it all
you’re really lovely
Four months later, I realized the â€˜settlementâ€™ wasnâ€™t going to be enough. It was Endicottâ€™s turn to be pissed. I held my cell phone away from my ear as he yelled,
â€œAs far as Iâ€™m concerned, Lady, you stole from me! The money in that IRA was for my retirement, and YOU STOLE IT FROM ME! You took OUR engagement ring â€“ it was half mine, Florence — and YOU STOLE IT FROM ME! You are a horrible person! I treated you so well, and you STOLE FROM ME! You are never going to find anyone who will treat you as well as I did! I was going to take care of you when your arthritis got bad and you were a cripple. No one else would do that for you! You threw away a good thing, Lady!â€
I shuddered at the memories. At that moment, driving towards the happiest place on earth, I replayed some of the more miserable moments of my marriage. If I could have erased our seven-year relationship, I would have done it — in a freaking heartbeat.
I checked the rear view mirror. Faithie sang to her stuffed animal, and swayed to the beat of the song. As I watched her, I wished her entire life would be as sweet and filled with love as it was at that moment. I hope she lives her life free of fear, pain, and regrets. I hope she never finds herself wishing she could erase an entire chunk of her history. I only wish that sweet girl the very best life possible.
From now on, thatâ€™ll be my goal for myself: a life free of fear, pain and regrets. How can that not be the best life possible?
June 21st, 2005
You might have noticed how little Iâ€™ve written recently. I haven’t posted anything for nine days now. I’d like to blame it on writer’s block, but its actually writer’s lazy-and-can’t-be-bothered-to-think. I brainstorm, get a couple of good topics rolling around in my head until I get thirsty, drop everything to find a Diet Coke in my â€˜fridge, then I notice the dirty dishes piled up in the sink and across my kitchen counters, start to straighten up a bit before completely forgetting what I was up to before I began cleaning my entire apartmentâ€¦Holy moley, I hope I donâ€™t have ADD! That would be BAD!
So with this in mind, I decide to recommit myself to writing every day. I log into my email account this morning and read the following message from my pen pal, Dennis. (Remember him? If not, check my â€œTake Me Outâ€ post from April 22, 2005, for the details on how we met.) He wrote:
Come on Flo, you know how it works; publish or perish. Your readers are getting anxious. You don’t want them leaving for someone else’s weblog!!!
Immediately, the girly girl in me is confused, and indignant. I wonder, â€œExcuse me? Did Dennis just threaten to leave me if I donâ€™t â€˜put outâ€™ more web content? Is he breaking up with me online?!â€
So, gentle reader, Iâ€™m asking you point blank: does Dennis speak for all of my audience (seven of you yesterday) when he demands I put out or youâ€™ll get out?
I guess I can understand how my audience might miss me and want more from me. Iâ€™m confident you understand my commitment to this site, and wouldnâ€™t leave me over a short break. We have a deep connection that transcends this tiny blip in our relationship. Iâ€™ll return to blogging and youâ€™ll keep checking in here, and write me with your concerns, big or small. Right?
Well, if notâ€¦I guess I understand how you feel. If you want to leave, thatâ€™s up to you. Iâ€™ll miss you. I hope you pop by again. Feel free to stop in and say hi anytime.
Adios, and donâ€™t let the web browser hit you on the way out,
June 20th, 2005
Received an email reminder last week for the following exhibition:
SPLASZ: An Exhibition of MFA work from the UCLA Department of Design | Media Arts
I try to catch every grad exhibition from the D|MA ever since I was an undergrad design major there several years ago. (Me love their program long time!) I wasn’t very talented, but don’t hold that against them. They do awesome work — they could win awards (and often do). Second, the MFA shows always ROCK. Talented artists, free booze, and always fun. Did I mention the free booze? People, run, don’t walk.
One glance and I knew I had to be there. This year’s batch of grad projects were even more promising because of the fact that I know the work of two of the four grads. As far as I’m concerned, Laura and Scott can do no wrong.
Check out the SPLASZ exhibit and tell me I’m wrong. I double dog dare you.
They had me at ‘SPLASZ’,
June 11th, 2005
I got an email earlier this week that ended in, â€œI hope your anger towards your husband is subsiding.â€
It made me wonder if I am less angry. I wasnâ€™t really sure, so I conducted a little experiment. I listened to all of Endicottâ€™s messages on my voicemail to gauge my reaction.
It took about ten seconds to realize nothing has changed: I still got annoyed at the sound of his voice.
Not to mention the fact, that the man cannot stop talking! He refuses to speak in complete sentences. He repeats his point a dozen times in the course of his five (sometimes longer!) minute long phone messages. Then he has the nerve to talk down to me! Endicott, Iâ€™m not the idiot whining over and over again on anyoneâ€™s voicemail.
The good news is that he stopped calling me. Thatâ€™s only because heâ€™s out of the country and doesnâ€™t want to pay the international phone rate of $2 a minute. After a week of phone calls, that bill would be like a car payment. He is one of the more frugal men on earth, so he wonâ€™t be doing that! Iâ€™ll be back in voicemail hell the day he returns to the continental US.
Until then, Iâ€™ll enjoy the next month Endicott-free. It is nice to not throw my phone against the wall every day. I could almost get used to this!
Call me — unless youâ€™re Endicott!
June 10th, 2005
My best bud, Jean Luc, invited me to a Memorial Day pool party. It was going to be a lot of fun, chock full of new people for me to meet.
These days, Iâ€™m all about making new friends. It is partly an attempt to overcome my shyness. But mainly, I want warm, caring, compatible people in my life; especially now with so much instability in my life. Iâ€™m divorcing my husband, Endicott, moving to a new area of town, looking for a new jobâ€¦I need friends! I need them NOW!
The party was hosted by a very nice couple named Sydney and Caesar. I know them through my friends Jean Luc, and his wife, the always fabulous, Maria. Sydney and Caesar are a lot of fun, and have awesome parties. (Iâ€™ve seen the photos, people. Weâ€™re talking thirty-something movie stars, and soap opera hunks. Iâ€™d tell you who they are, but then Iâ€™d have to kill you!). You should be so lucky to be invited to one of their soirees.
I was really looking forward to the event, until I asked a question I shouldnâ€™t have:
F: â€œDo Sydney and Caesar know Iâ€™m going to their party?â€
Iâ€™m suddenly alarmed because this is the second time he invited me to one of their parties without asking their permission.
F: â€œDude, they donâ€™t know you invited me to their party?â€
JL: â€œNo, but Iâ€™m sure theyâ€™d like to have you there. We have another party earlier in the day, so Iâ€™m going to be a little late to Sydneyâ€™s place. Iâ€™ll probably drop by later in the day.â€
F: â€œDonâ€™t you think you should ask Sydney if itâ€™s okay to invite me to her party?â€
JL: â€œNo, Iâ€™m sure itâ€™ll be fine.â€
F: â€œReally? I donâ€™t know, Jean Lucâ€¦â€
JL: â€œWhy donâ€™t you call her? Iâ€™m sure sheâ€™d like to have you there.â€
F: â€œOh yeah, that sounds like a good idea. â€˜Hi Sydney, this is Flo. I know you didnâ€™t invite me to your party, but Iâ€™m showing up anyway. Is there anything I can bring?â€™ Yep, thatâ€™ll go over big!â€
So, of course, thatâ€™s exactly what I did! Hey, she said she was fine with it! And I quote, â€œOh yeah, please come by Flo, weâ€™d love to have you.â€
Yeah, I know. Sometimes I am soooooooo tacky!
I had a ball the first time I crashed one of her parties. She didnâ€™t seem to mind then, either. Sydney, her family, and all of her friends were great, engaging people. Lots of funny stories, yummy wine, and tons of laughter â€“ you would have crashed it, too! Later that evening, the party moved out to the pool, kind of turning it into a beer garden. Several groovy folks my own age dropped by. They were awesome people I hoped to see again.
For the Memorial Day extravaganza, I picked up a bottle of wine from Whole Foods, and headed straight for Sydney and Caesarâ€™s place in Studio City, CA.
There were lots of couples, even more kids, half dozen singletons, me, and a giant bowl of rum punch topped with thin slices of lemons and strawberries. I poured myself a big glass of punch and made the rounds.
You donâ€™t know this about me, but I love rum. In my twenties, I had a thing for tequila. Nowadays, Iâ€™ve moved onto rum. Itâ€™s the yummiest liquor ever, and easily mixable with anything fruity flavored. That quality makes it easy to drink way too much. Maybe thatâ€™s why it is known as â€˜the devilâ€™s drinkâ€™. As the afternoon progressed, I hit the â€˜devilâ€™s drinkâ€™ pretty hard. I didnâ€™t notice how much I had, but I was enjoying it.
After dinner, my friend, the ever fabulous Maria, asked me, â€œSo, Flo, what do you think of Zach?â€
â€œOh, Zach is PRETTY.â€
Zach was at Sydneyâ€™s last party. He definitely leaves a good impression. He and his friends, Bryce and Mary, were friendly, and supremely funny. Also, it helped that Zach is very easy on the eyes. From what I understand, he is fairly successful in the film business. Iâ€™d tell you what he does and with whom, but then youâ€™d mack on him, too. Sorry ladies, but I saw him first! All in all, heâ€™s greatâ€¦So thereâ€™s no way in hell heâ€™d be interested in me. I just donâ€™t get those offers. If you donâ€™t believe me, check my â€œI donâ€™t want no scrubs,â€ post from May 25th for proof. Ugh.
Maria said, â€œSydney asked me if you think heâ€™s cute, so I thought Iâ€™d ask you.â€
â€œOh, heâ€™s very pretty.â€
â€œSydney asked him if he thought you were cute, and he said , â€˜yeah, sheâ€™s cute.â€™â€
â€œOh God, are you kidding?!â€ I put down my punch. This was serious!
â€œSydney thought maybe youâ€™d like to see a movie with her and Zach later.â€
Gasp! â€œOh, I donâ€™t know.â€ I turn to Mariaâ€™s husband, Jean Luc. â€œZach is really nice, and soooo pretty, but is he really interested in me?â€
Jean Luc pops almonds in his mouth. â€œI donâ€™t know,â€ he said.
â€œOh, man. Oh, gawd. Ohâ€¦â€
â€œWell, forget I said anything,â€ Maria says as she walks into the house.
I turn to Jean Luc again. â€œDude, why would he be interested in me? Iâ€™m a mess. Did you see those girls here this afternoon. Now, theyâ€™re beautiful. Long, straight hair, blue and green-eyes, super slim â€“ a very Southern California actress look. Me, Iâ€™m the total opposite of them, AND, I’m a smart-ass!â€ We both chuckled. â€œ I donâ€™t know, Jean Lucâ€¦â€
Later that evening, I helped Sydney with the dishes. The rum punch was still working on me when she asked, â€œFlo, do you think you want to see a movie with Zach and me later?â€ Sure, I said, that sounds like fun.
Just then I could feel myself getting tired. Iâ€™d wipe a platter dry and feel sleepy. Dry a plateâ€¦I’m getting drowsyâ€¦dry a bowlâ€¦canâ€™t keep my eyes open.
Around nine pm, I was about to drop. â€œSydney, I think I have to go home now. Can I take a raincheck on that movie?â€
As I drove home, I wasnâ€™t sure if I dodged a bullet or missed something special. Iâ€™ll let you know when I figure it out.
June 9th, 2005
No matter how bad things get, I try to keep my composure in front of my family. Iâ€™m sick, Iâ€™m heartbroken, Iâ€™m flat broke, and Iâ€™m more than a little scared about my immediate future. In spite of these facts, I pretend that everything is fine.
For months, I wouldnâ€™t talk about my separation from my soon-to-be ex-husband, Endicott. My mom heard about it from Endicott himself, not me. It was a good month before she and I talked about it. Even then, all I did was ask her for a hug. I remember my brother and sister-in-law offered to listen to me whenever I wanted to talk. I declined their offers for several weeks before slowly opening up to them. Heck, I didnâ€™t tell my grandparents about my separation until late April, four months after I left Endicott.
When I finally began writing on this site, my family responded with a lot of, â€˜I didnâ€™t knowâ€¦â€™
â€œI didnâ€™t know you felt that way.â€
â€œI didnâ€™t know that happened.â€
â€œI didnâ€™t know he (or she) was like that. I thought he (or she) was your friend.â€
They were definitely surprised when I began posting details of my life on the internet.
[Note: I realize my situation isnâ€™t nearly as difficult as those of women I met recently (read custody battles, infidelity, mental illness). Those ladies have been through hell! My little gripe-fest doesnâ€™t hold a candle to their stories. Yet, I canâ€™t help but think my blog might help others in the middle of a divorce. I want them to know that theyâ€™re not the only people feeling like crap warmed over -- everybody hurts. As much as my heart aches, I know Iâ€™ll heal, and Iâ€™ll (eventually) love again. I believe that can happen for everyone.]
Now that Iâ€™ve been blogging for the last month, this site is THE place my family checks before calling me. My favorite reaction came from my Aunt Molly. When I first mentioned the idea for this blog, she said, â€œWell, if thatâ€™s what you need to do, girl, then thatâ€™s what you need to do. â€œ Now she logs on to this site everyday to see what Iâ€™m up to. Sheâ€™s actually disappointed when I donâ€™t post! How awesome is that?
Blogging has been beneficial as a tool for self-expression. Yes, this bloodletting is a little out of my character. I utilize this format because it offers a safe venue for sharing the raw, real feelings that come from divorce. I donâ€™t feel like Iâ€™m imposing my baggage onto others. People can read my stories at their leisure, or not at all. Itâ€™s entirely up to the reader.
Expressing myself through written words is so much easier than speaking. It minimizes the stumbled words, and feeling ill at ease. Again, one can take it or leave it.
Overall, this experience has been much more beneficial than I ever expected. Iâ€™m learning to better communicate my feelings in an honest, straightforward way. At least the very least, thatâ€™s my goal.
June 8th, 2005
Did you hear the latest verdict from the Supreme Court? The Court ruled that the federal law supercedes states laws regarding the use of medical marijuana.
So apparently, the feds can now prosecute anyone using pot for â€˜supposedlyâ€™ (thatâ€™s how a CNN anchor put it) medicinal purposes.
If youâ€™re anything like me, youâ€™re probably wondering, â€˜How will this new ruling effect Flo?â€ Iâ€™m glad you askedâ€¦
Iâ€™m in a lot of pain, and I swear I only smoke out to dull that pain. But with this ruling, the risk of a drug conviction just doesnâ€™t seem worth the health benefits. The last thing I need is a mark on my permanent record.
So, Supreme Court justices, federales, and anyone who has no business in my business, I give! You win! I completely and totally give up on the pot! I, and many other people living with chronic pain, will just have to live with it. Are you happy now, you heartless freaks?
June 6th, 2005
I’m addicted to craigslist.com. I had a couple of job interviews based on ads posted there. I even found my apartment through this site. The prices for cars and computers seem to be a bit high, so ignore those sections if you’re looking for a deal.
If you live in Southern California and are looking for a dog or two, check out this ad. These poor dogs must leave their home because their owners are divorcing. Divorce is bad enough, but do the dogs have to suffer, too?
Best of luck, doggies.
June 5th, 2005
Sorry I haven’t been in touch recently. I’ve been offline for several days. Let’s just say SBC Communications might want to rethink their company name, since communication doesn’t seem to be their specialty! Yep, SBC and I had a communications breakdown. Maybe we’ll make up soon, but I doubt it. Consequently, this has been the longest week of my life (and it’s still not over)! Who knew I’d miss you so much?
Speaking of missing, do you think this couple miss this bike? I’m no motorcycle mama, but I’m really digging it. It looks like a lot of fun!
June 3rd, 2005