Tuesday, March 10, 2009

An example of why not everyone should be allowed to blog.

It's amazing what a good, long crying jag will do for you. Not only will it produce a headache the likes of which I haven't experienced since, well, two Saturday's ago (after a Friday spent making friends with too many margaritas), but it will also make you feel totally amazing. Well, as amazing as one can feel after their whole life is flushed down the toilet.

And, hey, look at that. I took it one step too far. No, I haven't been drinking, but I should start. I think I have a half empty bottle of Cuervo around here somewhere and, yes, I'm a pessimist. In case you couldn't tell.

My mother told me I need to start blogging again and I said no. I don't. I said that's the beauty of having YOUR OWN BLOG. I can quit whenever I feel like it. Once upon a time, my mother and my two sisters and I created a blog. It didn't work out. Too many creative differences. Hence, here we are.

But she has a point. I need to distract myself. But what is one supposed to talk write about when one has absolutely nothing to say. And by "nothing" I mean he left me which also means I'M A LUNATIC.

You know, not to get off subject here ('cause I did have a point), but I have never come across a good blog about divorce. (Contradiction in terms?) Anyway, I wouldn't be surprised if there wasn't one, because who can keep it together when their spouse says I don't know if I want to be with you anymore.

So, I opened my laptop and proceeded to stare at my computer screen. The fact is I knew if I started writing I wouldn't be able to stop the unwanted, sarcastic commentary about the direction my life has taken recently. (And, sure enough, I was write right.) So, in an effort to prevent that, I turned to this website.

And what did it give me as a topic to blow all others away?

"Have you ever bought anything that has its own infomercial (like the ShamWow® or Snuggie™)?"

And I was all oh, come on! Because how could stupid Plinky know that The Husband bought me a Snuggie for Christmas? Even the internet wants me to be miserable.


  1. Hi Stephanie. It's your blog and you can cry if you want to. Not much else can be said right now. I would give you the last Cadbury Creme Egg if I could.

  2. Changed my mind...It sucks bowling balls.

  3. Oh, bloody hell. I feel your pain, sister, and I recommend crying whenever the mood strikes. Well, ok, maybe not in the middle of a meeting or in the fast lane on the expressway, but y'know.I am beginning to face the truth that the distance is too much for Himself to handle so I think I am at a crossroads with my relationship, too. It sucks. Golfballs. There's no way around it.

  4. Theresa, thank you. (I think Easter has the best holiday candy.)Violet... bowling balls. You're absolutely right.

  5. DUDE. I really have nothing uplifting to say except that I got divorced from my first husband when I was 25 and wanted to start having babies and instead my life went in the opposite direction and it plain sucked, bowling balls indeed. See? Not uplifting at all.So I won't leave you a happy little sunshine & kittens & rainbows comment, 'cause right now things suck. I'm just tellin' it like it is sista. Been there. Done that. Sucks.But what I will tell you, although I'm somewhat of a lurker around here, is that I love your blog for all the snark and the sass and the sarcasm. That is ME, but for some reason, because so much of my family reads my blog, I feel like I need a happy little sunshine & kittens & rainbows filter on everything I say. It gets on my nerves that I'm like that.So I just want to say THANK YOU for bringin' the snark and the sass and the sarcasm. I love you for it. (In a non-lesbian, non-stalkerish/lurker kind of way.)