she’s an ex for a reason

Except for the extra mileage entrenched around her glassy, stoned-looking eyes, her face looked the same—all smiley and everything. She reeked of sweet, yet medicinal perfume. A COACH bag dangled from her wrist, and sparkly jewelry adorned her fingers, ears, and neck.

I felt nothing; not rage, not excitement, not anything. And then she went toward my dad and hugged him. Then me. Then my husband.

Confusion drizzled over me.

I think my arm went up to kind of encase her as she hugged me like a normal person hugs—arms reached around and squeezing me a bit.

She wouldn’t stop smiling. She looked happy. Really happy. And that pissed me off a bit and fueled my judging her from her perfectly painted red toenails to her matching fake fingernails.

We all played follow the leader to the dining area of the steakhouse my nephew Jordan (her son) wanted us to meet at for his birthday dinner celebration.

It may have been nearly twenty years since we sat at the same table to have a meal, but she really hadn’t changed all that much: she still thought everything was funny, she still found nothing to talk about (and talk about it a lot), she still pulled off the Dumb Blond thing really well.

Only difference was that now she sat next to her boyfriend whom she was living with—along with his two kids, a 13-year-old and 5-year-old—instead of my brother and their children.

Anger started brewing as I started reflecting.

She can leave her own kids when they weren’t even 5 and 10 (now in their 20s) for occasional weekend visits with them, but here she is living with some guy and his kids, taking on a motherly role?

Her boyfriend’s 5-year-old, a girl, leaned against her and she put her arm around the girl and brought her in closer. Both with straw-colored hair, I’m sure the wait staff thought they were mother and daughter.

I looked over at Jordan whom she left when he wasn’t even 5. Was he seeing this too? Was he steaming inside too? Was he wondering why she, his own mother, could act motherly toward this little girl when she couldn’t act that way toward him nearly 20 years ago?

“What kind of wine do you have?” she asked the waiter, batting her glossy eyes at him while he rattled off a list of wines. “Oh,” she cackled before he finished with the list, “I’ll have a white zinfandel.”

I’m certain my eyes rolled at this point, but I pretended to be looking at the light fixtures to avoid confrontation. This was about Jordan and his birthday after all. This wasn’t about me and my disdain for this fake-ass, wanna-be-someone-she-never-will-be woman who used to be my best friend. It’s never been about that. It’s always about the kids. Always.

I squeezed my daughter in closer to me and asked if I could color with her, avoiding making anymore eye contact with Jordan’s mom.

I was, after all, waiting on a steak dinner to come, and I wanted to be able to stomach it.

 

tit for tat annoys the shit outta me

 

I sent a bouquet of cookie flowers for her 30^th birthday. Who doesn’t love food? For my birthday two months later, she hopped in her car, drove to my work, dropped off a bouquet of cookie flowers. Yum, but what the hell?

 

 

No more sleep for me

Soundly I slept till the door flew open, his hand slamming against the light switch, engulfing the room in brightness.

“I found a fuckin’ bed bug on her bed. Gotta call pest control tomorrow. This is gonna be so much fuckin’ work.”

 

 

So late to this for reasons I wish not to discuss other than to answer the Gargleblaster’s question, IS SOMETHING CRAWLING ON ME?

25 Days/Songs: Day 8

Day 8 — song that reminds you of your “first love”

There are so many different ways I could take “first love” and I think that’s the point. Particularly since it’s in quotes. I’d love to take this back to my very first love ever– a boy named Frankie whom I was quite smitten with back in second grade, but, quite frankly, there aren’t any songs that remind me of him. I just remember always getting super excited when he’d show up at the playground after school, and I remember he moved after second grade was over.

I almost took this back to my first real love. Like, the boy I know I loved. Really loved.  There’s a song that totally reminds me of him, but I was a chicken back then and never told him how I felt. Then he moved states away when we were around 14 so by the time I got my nerve up to tell him how I felt, he was gone. Sniff, sniff.

No, instead, I’m taking this back to my “first love” who took my virginity. Why not? Thing is, I was beyond ready when the time came as I was already out of college. What? Yeah, I went to four different high schools so I didn’t date. At all. So when the opportunity finally came, I snatched it up. Oh yes I did. No regrets either. Did I love him? I don’t think so. I also don’t think he loved me. Regardless, he was my “first” and this song reminds me of him in so many fucking ways it’s kinda cray.

 

 

pssst, don’t forget to check out more participants over at Stuphblog

the puppet

“Tell me if you’re game,” he whispered in her ear from behind, slowly tugging at her hair.

“Yes,” she cooed from beneath him.

With her head pulled back by her hair as far as it could go, he reached for the red bandanna with his free hand.

“I’m gonna put this in your mouth. Just bite down on it ‘n’ breathe through your nose.”

He rested her head back down onto the bed and placed the red cloth in her mouth, tying it behind her head along with most of her hair. Her hands and fingers, already secured behind her back with her own leggings, looked like a nest full of freshly hatched baby birds reaching with their beaks for food.

“Just breathe through your nose,” he said again, slowly reaching his foot to the floor to steady himself and stand up.

Once off of her and the bed, he studied the curves of her naked body as it wiggle on the gray sheets. He was reminded of worms that emerged after it had stopped raining.

She closed her eyes and tried remaining still, but she couldn’t; the gag was just too much for her. She lost any control she had left. She became his puppet and that realization soon brought the taste of salt from her tears that the bandanna absorbed.

When she managed to open her eyes, she saw his hairy legs, then his cellphone. He was recording her or taking her picture. She tried telling him to stop, but the gag prevented her from saying anything coherent and forced her to concentrate on breathing through her nose.

What the fuck was she doing? How could she allow someone to tie her up? The drugs were good. The sex was good. Why was she allowing this though?

She was his puppet. She would do whatever he wanted because he was wanting her company. This is what you do when someone wants to be with you.

He placed the phone onto the nightstand and rolled her over so she now lay on her back.

“You’re doing great,” he whispered. “And you look fuckin’ a-maze-ing.”

He smiled as he climbed back on top of the bed and loosened the gag. Then he kissed and teased each nipple while she moaned.

This is why she let him do this to her.

 

***

 

 
Sadly this piece is “inspired” by the missing persons case of Kelly Dwyer, particularly this news story here. She’s been missing since October 11, 2013!!

25 Songs/Days: Day 7

Day 1
Day 2
Days 3 & 4
Days 5 & 6

Day 7 – song that reminds you of the past summer

I mean, really. 2013 to me screams Robin Thicke’s Blurred Lines. I freaking love it. Each and every time I hear it, I wanna move. Oddly, last summer, I didn’t want to do any kind of moving because it was too bloody hot. And I hate hot. I just am not a fan of summer. Not at all. But this song? Hell yeah I’m a fan. “Hey Hey Hey!”

What song reminds you of last summer?

For Mother’s Day: #BringBackOurGirls

This Weblog is Unique. Just Like They All Are.

Thank you to Anna Sandler for offering to guest post about the mass abduction in Nigeria, which is a part of an organized campaign of terror by Boko Haram militants.

I like the commercialism of Mother’s Day about as much as I like seeing July 4th items on sale at my local Target last week. For me, the idea of buying some cheap token for Mother’s Day celebrates everything superficial about the holiday and very little about the real substance of the day, which to me, is taking a moment to think about mothers everywhere.

So against the sea of ads for jewelry and perfumes and, I wish this wasn’t true, weight-loss solutions, that are coming through my Facebook feed in “honor” of Mother’s Day, all I can think is how very little this matters to me, or I would guess any mom, when over 200 girls are missing in Nigeria.

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25 Songs/Days: days 5 & 6

So clearly I suck at posting daily. Such is life sometimes.

Day 1
Day 2
Days 3 & 4

Day 5= song that often gets stuck in your head.

I’m gonna go with a more recent song for this one. It’s one I didn’t really care too much for until I saw the band perform the song live on Saturday Night Live. From that performance on, I just couldn’t get enough of this song. Still can’t! I even got my 4 year-old asking for this song and she’s normally one that demands “kids music.”

Day 6= song that reminds you of a best friend.

Heh, this one makes me smile so much. It brings me back to a time in my life when things were just starting to get really messed up in life, but not so much that I didn’t still have a ton of fun. I was about 10 when this came out and was in a brand new school. It was the first time I switched schools so I was still OK with the change. I was still outgoing and playful and … ten. I met a girl who lived two streets away from me– Shari. We became pretty inseparable and this song was super popular during that time. Listening to it brings me right back to her apartment with her younger brother and older sister. I can still see us all just running around the apartment scream-singing to this song. Good memories. Good, good memories that aren’t very common from back then. Also, I was SURE they were singing “Warm my cold Italian heart” back in the day. Ha.

Don’t forget to check out more songs at Stuphblog’s place.

Why do birds suddenly appear?

A good girl does what’s expected of her.

She raises her hand to question, patiently waits to be called on.

She eats salad, wears dresses, bats her beautiful eyes, stifles her laughter.

Exhausted, she closes her eyes at night.

She’s finally free.

 

 

 

25 Songs/Days: days 3 & 4

Day 1
Day 2

Day 3= song that reminds you of one/both parents…

I said it back during Day 1 that there’s a song I’ve written about before and a song, I’m sure, I’ll write about again. That would the same song that reminds me of my parents: Chicago’s Hard to Say I’m Sorry.

You can read more about why I chose that song HERE.

***

Day 4= song that clams you down.

This one is really tough. How do you choose ONE song that’s best suited for calming you down? I haven’t a freaking clue, nor do I have all the time in the world to figure it out. So how did I choose one? I looked to my favorite artist of all and picked one of his tunes. Even that wasn’t very easy to do because Bryan Adams has been around for a long damn time and has a ton of songs to choose from. Nevertheless, I’m picking one from this 1983 Cuts Like a Knife album: Straight from the Heart.

Choosing a Bryan Adams song as one that calms me isn’t too difficult; narrowing it down to ONE is, but this is a lovely song, don’t you think? And this video version of it? Wow do I love this man. He’s just such an awesome, inspiring talent.

check out more challenge entries at Stuphblog.com.