Sunday, April 1, 2018
Tuesday, March 20, 2018
Epilogue (of sorts)
The fog pretty much lifted on March 5th, though I wasn't aware of it until 3 days later when I received word from a very good attorney of mine. Since that fateful day, now a tad over 2 weeks, I've been busy trying to disentangle what remains of the ties that bind.
That is a long process. Not difficult, but time consuming. And of course Scarlett has beena lot of help, right there to lend a hand, ready to put aside petty concerns, ready and willing to assume her independence, a real trooper, listening closely as I explain the process, paying attention, trying to figure things out on her own, taking responsibility for herself and her actions, thinking ahead to the future, planning for her future, oh, who am I kidding? Scarlett remains the woman I am now especially proud to call X.
It is one of those things, that when it's all said and done, you sit back and wonder why didn't I do this earlier?
And for now I'll leave it at that.
That is a long process. Not difficult, but time consuming. And of course Scarlett has been
It is one of those things, that when it's all said and done, you sit back and wonder why didn't I do this earlier?
And for now I'll leave it at that.
On This Day In History
March 5th:
1624 - In the American colony of Virginia, the upper class was exempted from whipping by legislation.
1624 - In the American colony of Virginia, the upper class was exempted from whipping by legislation.
1770 - "The Boston Massacre" took place when British troops fired on a crowd in Boston killing five people. Two British troops were later convicted of manslaughter.
1845 - The U.S. Congress appropriated $30,000 to ship camels to the western U.S.
1872 - George Westinghouse patented the air brake.
1933 - The Nazi Party won 44 percent of the vote in German parliamentary elections.
1946 - Winston Churchill delivered his "Iron Curtain Speech".
1960 - Elvis Presley was honorably discharged from the Army.
And closely related to each of these events, Salty received his divorce from Scarlett.
So what do the above historical events have to do with this? Well, the way I see it, I:
- am now exempt from whipping
- have been involved in a massacre (financially speaking)
- know someone for whom $30,000 worth of camels is right up her line of thinking
- applied an air brake to what had become a runaway train
- have assumed power and control over my destiny (the Third Reich notwithstanding)
- am installing my own Iron Curtain against Scarlett
- was honorably discharged from an intolerable situation
As Mark Twain is rumored to have said, History doesn't repeat itself, but it does rhyme.
How true.
Sunday, February 25, 2018
Rambling thoughts
So. Salty and Scarlett are still wedded but depending on the court system, that should be ending in the next few weeks. There have been a number of things in this unwinding that I've been told are rare and uncommon. Those primarily concern my forbearance as regards Scarlett and some of her acting out. And the rare and uncommon will likely continue for some unknown period of time.
Scarlett is wholly unprepared for what I know lies ahead of her. And sometimes I am forced to wonder if she will ever be able to fully function as a reasonable and rational individual. In light of that, I cannot in good conscience leave her to her own devices. I can not and will not be there 24/7 to save her from herself, she has a lot of her own mistakes yet to make (and hopefully learn from) and I am not going to deprive her of those experiences. I realize that sounds a bit snarky but that is not at all how it is meant.
I will be available to her to provide advice and counsel (when asked) as well as to provide my opinions, also only when asked.
Training wheels come to mind here.
For most of her life, Scarlett has been riding around on a tricycle. That tricycle is gone and she needs to move up to a two wheeler. And just like the rest of us, that requires the use of training wheels while she develops her sense of balance, learns how to turn, steer and brake.
Normally I like projects. This one though....might be fun. If she will listen, learn and apply. Past experience does not fill me with a whole lot of hope in that regard but for the time being it is what it is.
Scarlett is wholly unprepared for what I know lies ahead of her. And sometimes I am forced to wonder if she will ever be able to fully function as a reasonable and rational individual. In light of that, I cannot in good conscience leave her to her own devices. I can not and will not be there 24/7 to save her from herself, she has a lot of her own mistakes yet to make (and hopefully learn from) and I am not going to deprive her of those experiences. I realize that sounds a bit snarky but that is not at all how it is meant.
I will be available to her to provide advice and counsel (when asked) as well as to provide my opinions, also only when asked.
Training wheels come to mind here.
For most of her life, Scarlett has been riding around on a tricycle. That tricycle is gone and she needs to move up to a two wheeler. And just like the rest of us, that requires the use of training wheels while she develops her sense of balance, learns how to turn, steer and brake.
Normally I like projects. This one though....might be fun. If she will listen, learn and apply. Past experience does not fill me with a whole lot of hope in that regard but for the time being it is what it is.
Thursday, February 15, 2018
Tunnels And Lights
I believe my sojourn in the land of dysfunction is nearing its end. As always with a few caveats.
Scarlett and I, with our respective legal beagles, all met this past Tuesday to continue the mediation we had begun back in January. As a quick recap, we'd left that meeting mostlyin agreement somewhat in agreement agreeing to meet again and my promising to take the blame for everything wrong in her life fund the remainder of her life stay out of her life try and tighten up what she could reasonably expect as monthly income.
As usual, there were a number of twists and turns from that meeting to the one on Tuesday. My side had put on the table an offer of a lump sum alimony payment. Initially, Scarlett was not too inclined to accept this. Then she was. Then she wasn't. Then, yeah, that sounded like a good idea. Oh wait, not so much. I wasn't sure where we stood come Tuesday. But, that's a position I've gotten real used to occupying over the past few decades...
This will sound like a slam on Scarlett though I truly don't mean it as such. Over the years she has driven me up countless walls with her innate ability to misconstrue, misunderstand, not see the point entirely and generally act like the village idiot when the subject turns to finances. Sadly for her (and her poor attorney) that's what 98% of a divorce is about. And when you don't understand 98% of a subject you're like the guy showing up to a gunfight with a knife.
Well, she was well armed with her knives. And Kleenex. Which reminds me I need to do some due diligence on Kimberly Clarke. At the rate Scarlett goes through Kleenex she could keep that company profitable for years. But I digress.
Her knives did her no good. The Kleenex on the other hand I must admit did. We were in separate rooms but I could hear the crying, wailing and sobbing. Even though I pretty much knew it was likely an act to garner sympathy I still fell for it. A little bit. She wanted a little more $$ for various things and thankfully my attorney and I had built in some slop in the initial offer made to her. So I had room to play with.
Without going into all the gory details, at the end of this Scarlett was in good spirits. Her attorney did me a huge favor, which I believe he did with full intent and purpose. She'd asked him how does Salty look towards the end of these negotiations. He responded that he (I) did not look too happy. Nothing could have been further from the truth and he knew that. Thankfully he also knew Scarlett. Knew what she wanted to hear. And she was floating on air. She "got" that SOB. She was the one who came out on top. She showed Salty who was boss, who was the top negotiator. Yep, she got me good.
And that is a thought I will happily allow her to take to her grave.
So where does all this stand now?
Preliminary documents have been signed and are on their way to a judge for his/her blessing. Then there will be an exchange of property and additional documents between Scarlett and I. Scarlett has already started the process to acquire a condo she's had her eye on. Furniture and furnishings need to be divided up. A trust needs to be killed, assets retitled, etc. etc. As the saying goes, it's not done until the paperwork is complete.
This isn't done yet but I can see a light at the end of the tunnel and I don't believe it's an oncoming train.
Scarlett and I, with our respective legal beagles, all met this past Tuesday to continue the mediation we had begun back in January. As a quick recap, we'd left that meeting mostly
As usual, there were a number of twists and turns from that meeting to the one on Tuesday. My side had put on the table an offer of a lump sum alimony payment. Initially, Scarlett was not too inclined to accept this. Then she was. Then she wasn't. Then, yeah, that sounded like a good idea. Oh wait, not so much. I wasn't sure where we stood come Tuesday. But, that's a position I've gotten real used to occupying over the past few decades...
This will sound like a slam on Scarlett though I truly don't mean it as such. Over the years she has driven me up countless walls with her innate ability to misconstrue, misunderstand, not see the point entirely and generally act like the village idiot when the subject turns to finances. Sadly for her (and her poor attorney) that's what 98% of a divorce is about. And when you don't understand 98% of a subject you're like the guy showing up to a gunfight with a knife.
Well, she was well armed with her knives. And Kleenex. Which reminds me I need to do some due diligence on Kimberly Clarke. At the rate Scarlett goes through Kleenex she could keep that company profitable for years. But I digress.
Her knives did her no good. The Kleenex on the other hand I must admit did. We were in separate rooms but I could hear the crying, wailing and sobbing. Even though I pretty much knew it was likely an act to garner sympathy I still fell for it. A little bit. She wanted a little more $$ for various things and thankfully my attorney and I had built in some slop in the initial offer made to her. So I had room to play with.
Without going into all the gory details, at the end of this Scarlett was in good spirits. Her attorney did me a huge favor, which I believe he did with full intent and purpose. She'd asked him how does Salty look towards the end of these negotiations. He responded that he (I) did not look too happy. Nothing could have been further from the truth and he knew that. Thankfully he also knew Scarlett. Knew what she wanted to hear. And she was floating on air. She "got" that SOB. She was the one who came out on top. She showed Salty who was boss, who was the top negotiator. Yep, she got me good.
And that is a thought I will happily allow her to take to her grave.
So where does all this stand now?
Preliminary documents have been signed and are on their way to a judge for his/her blessing. Then there will be an exchange of property and additional documents between Scarlett and I. Scarlett has already started the process to acquire a condo she's had her eye on. Furniture and furnishings need to be divided up. A trust needs to be killed, assets retitled, etc. etc. As the saying goes, it's not done until the paperwork is complete.
This isn't done yet but I can see a light at the end of the tunnel and I don't believe it's an oncoming train.
Monday, February 5, 2018
The Monster Of All Monsters
I am an infrequent contributor but full time lurker on a few websites, chat rooms and groups that all share a commonality in how to deal with and/or extricate yourself from someone suffering with a cluster B personality disorder.
One post I saw today, that I will not give any attribution for (to maintain the poster's anonymity) was this:
"... but now as her life spirals out of control with debt, horrendous decisions, and her relationship with our three young kids who live full-time with me, seriously damaged, she insists she is normal. I say to myself for the kids sake, get some help. I have also said it to her but not with much frequency anymore realizing she already feels bad enough without me repeatedly hitting her over the head to seek treatment. Once thought rock bottom would be the motivating factor - but not sure where the bottom is or if she will ever seek to better her life and trade misery for happiness. BPD is the monster of all monsters."
That post hit home like none over the past almost two years have. What really struck me was his statement concerning "get help" but not wanting to hit her over the head with it. I can identify with his feelings because I've been in the same quandary. There are times when Scarlett, I can tell, could really use some help but to say that to her then would be tantamount to just piling on. Which is a penalty in football and should be in life as well.
Coupled with this are some well meaning friends who admittedly have only my best interests at heart (God love them) but seem to believe that Scarlett justs needs the truth pointed out to her and she will be well on her way to healing. While I appreciate the concern and the advice that is meant as helpful, I can say from experience that until you've lived it you really don't get it.
Borderline Personality Disorder, as the gentleman above so succinctly states, "is the monster of all monsters."
It can destroy not only those who suffer from it, but those close to the sufferers as well. Being in that latter category then tends to set up a moral dilemma of sorts. Should you distance yourself from the BPD to "save" yourself and let them flounder on their own? That seems to be the advice. Turn it around a little though and remove BPD and perhaps insert pain. Should you distance yourself from someone who suffers from pain or should you try and help them?
There is no right and correct answer or path here, at least as best as I can determine. Yes we need to take care of ourselves, though I hesitate to say first and foremost because there is always the element of self sacrifice, which is deemed a good, high and noble thing. But if sacrificing yourself will not result in any better outcome, then why do it? The picture of a soldier covering a grenade with his body, when he is all alone, comes to mind. What's the point there other than a form of suicide? Suicidal tendencies or ideation are rightfully frowned upon. And have been known to be a one-way ticket to a padded room somewhere.
So, we need to help those in need without unduly sacrificing ourselves in the process. What does that look like? I think it looks like being there and available for the BPD but not so much that they depend fully on you. To a very large degree, these people are adult children. They should be treated as adults but at times consoled and cared for as you would a child.
It also strikes me that in a very large way they are handicapped or whatever the current term de-jour these days happens to be. Telling them to straighten up and fly right makes as much sense as berating a double arm amputee for not shaking your hand. There are just some things neither of them are capable of doing. The amputee's disability is just more noticeable but the BPD's is no less more disabling.
Compassion here has to play a part. But how much compassion, and how big a part? I suspect that answer is different for everyone touched by this monster and something we will only determine for ourselves by trial and error.
One post I saw today, that I will not give any attribution for (to maintain the poster's anonymity) was this:
"... but now as her life spirals out of control with debt, horrendous decisions, and her relationship with our three young kids who live full-time with me, seriously damaged, she insists she is normal. I say to myself for the kids sake, get some help. I have also said it to her but not with much frequency anymore realizing she already feels bad enough without me repeatedly hitting her over the head to seek treatment. Once thought rock bottom would be the motivating factor - but not sure where the bottom is or if she will ever seek to better her life and trade misery for happiness. BPD is the monster of all monsters."
That post hit home like none over the past almost two years have. What really struck me was his statement concerning "get help" but not wanting to hit her over the head with it. I can identify with his feelings because I've been in the same quandary. There are times when Scarlett, I can tell, could really use some help but to say that to her then would be tantamount to just piling on. Which is a penalty in football and should be in life as well.
Coupled with this are some well meaning friends who admittedly have only my best interests at heart (God love them) but seem to believe that Scarlett justs needs the truth pointed out to her and she will be well on her way to healing. While I appreciate the concern and the advice that is meant as helpful, I can say from experience that until you've lived it you really don't get it.
Borderline Personality Disorder, as the gentleman above so succinctly states, "is the monster of all monsters."
It can destroy not only those who suffer from it, but those close to the sufferers as well. Being in that latter category then tends to set up a moral dilemma of sorts. Should you distance yourself from the BPD to "save" yourself and let them flounder on their own? That seems to be the advice. Turn it around a little though and remove BPD and perhaps insert pain. Should you distance yourself from someone who suffers from pain or should you try and help them?
There is no right and correct answer or path here, at least as best as I can determine. Yes we need to take care of ourselves, though I hesitate to say first and foremost because there is always the element of self sacrifice, which is deemed a good, high and noble thing. But if sacrificing yourself will not result in any better outcome, then why do it? The picture of a soldier covering a grenade with his body, when he is all alone, comes to mind. What's the point there other than a form of suicide? Suicidal tendencies or ideation are rightfully frowned upon. And have been known to be a one-way ticket to a padded room somewhere.
So, we need to help those in need without unduly sacrificing ourselves in the process. What does that look like? I think it looks like being there and available for the BPD but not so much that they depend fully on you. To a very large degree, these people are adult children. They should be treated as adults but at times consoled and cared for as you would a child.
It also strikes me that in a very large way they are handicapped or whatever the current term de-jour these days happens to be. Telling them to straighten up and fly right makes as much sense as berating a double arm amputee for not shaking your hand. There are just some things neither of them are capable of doing. The amputee's disability is just more noticeable but the BPD's is no less more disabling.
Compassion here has to play a part. But how much compassion, and how big a part? I suspect that answer is different for everyone touched by this monster and something we will only determine for ourselves by trial and error.
Friday, February 2, 2018
Guest Post
Found this in my inbox this morning and realized I could not say any of this better.
WHY DO PEOPLE WITH BPD ACT THE WAY THEY DO?
People with BPD and NPD have definite social/emotional deficits. Their low levels of empathy make it hard for them to understand how other people feel, so they just assume your feelings are exactly like their feelings. Research on empathy shows that it is both an inherited capacity and a learned behavior. People with BP/NP have some empathy, but it's typically low. They don't comprehend your feelings and they misread your facial and body language cues. So they constantly come up with the wrong assumption.
The emotional reactivity in people with BPD is extremely sensitive and intense, so they respond to situations with extreme and instantaneous emotions, which are usually inappropriate for the situation.
They cover these social mistakes by blaming others. For example, "You made me angry." And they try to feel more in control of what they are experiencing by making everyone close to them do, say, and respond in very stilted and exact ways.
These things all seem to be related to their brain functioning.
That being said, people with BP/NP get continuously reinforced for their behavior. Their stubbornness and over the top anger get people to back off and give them what they want. So their behaviors work for them.
The mistake that most everyone makes with them is assuming that if you can just explain your feelings, or in some way show the BP/NP how upset you are, that they will understand and change. With their empathy limitations, they really can't comprehend how you feel. They are aware you're upset, but they simply think you are having the wrong reaction.
Only negative reinforcement works. That is, you have to take away your attention and energy from any negative interaction. Walk away. Stop letting their tantrums emotionally affect you. And never buy into their accusations that you CAUSED them to feel how they're feeling. It is the same process you would teach small children and pets how to behave.
BEING STRUNG ALONG
When you're married to a person with borderline or narcissistic traits, you often end up feeling strung along--often for years--with promises and the hope of change. After an emotional uproar, your partner will seem truly contrite and promise: "I'll change. I'll do better. That was last week, I've really improved. You know I'm trying."
Their behaviors may change for awhile, but then seemingly out of the blue, you again get blamed and attacked--"I wouldn't have done that if you hadn't been rude first. Well, you do it too. I'm never good enough for you. Why are you always so negative?"
People with BP/NP traits want to stay in a relationship, but they are significantly challenged in their ability to change, see your point of view, or understand your feelings. They go through the motions, and they make a lot of excuses for their offensive behavior, always promising that things will be better--or that things are already better.
You end up feeling strung along hoping for change, growth, insight, and real connection. It always seems just over the horizon. They sometimes do change their negative or hurtful behaviors--for a time--but then inevitably go back to their preferred method of being in the world-self-centered on their own wants and needs.
Remember, promises are not progress.
So, what can you do when you think you're being strung along? First of all, keep actual track of promises, behaviors, and how long you've actually experienced the changed behavior. Mark occurrences on a calendar so you won't be as easily convinced that your observations are wrong.
Figure out for yourself how long you're willing to put up with the relationship if the behavior doesn't change--2 months, 6 months, a year, 5 years, etc. Decide also what you want or need to do if the negative behaviors continue past your tolerance point. What actions are YOU willing to take to deal with the issues?
Threatening and pleading never work in the long run. If your partner isn't changing, there are only two reasons--s/he won't or can't change. Which implies a lack of motivation or a lack of ability. Either way, you can't force it to happen.
Instead, focus on what you want. Figure out what you're actually getting from the relationship, and then ask yourself, "What can I do about it, and what choices do I have?" Start taking action to make your own life and your children's lives better. Waiting for decades for your partner to change, only makes your life more frustrating and unsatisfied.
Source: Margalis Fjesltad, Ph.D., LMFT
margalistherapy.com
WHY DO PEOPLE WITH BPD ACT THE WAY THEY DO?
People with BPD and NPD have definite social/emotional deficits. Their low levels of empathy make it hard for them to understand how other people feel, so they just assume your feelings are exactly like their feelings. Research on empathy shows that it is both an inherited capacity and a learned behavior. People with BP/NP have some empathy, but it's typically low. They don't comprehend your feelings and they misread your facial and body language cues. So they constantly come up with the wrong assumption.
The emotional reactivity in people with BPD is extremely sensitive and intense, so they respond to situations with extreme and instantaneous emotions, which are usually inappropriate for the situation.
They cover these social mistakes by blaming others. For example, "You made me angry." And they try to feel more in control of what they are experiencing by making everyone close to them do, say, and respond in very stilted and exact ways.
These things all seem to be related to their brain functioning.
That being said, people with BP/NP get continuously reinforced for their behavior. Their stubbornness and over the top anger get people to back off and give them what they want. So their behaviors work for them.
The mistake that most everyone makes with them is assuming that if you can just explain your feelings, or in some way show the BP/NP how upset you are, that they will understand and change. With their empathy limitations, they really can't comprehend how you feel. They are aware you're upset, but they simply think you are having the wrong reaction.
Only negative reinforcement works. That is, you have to take away your attention and energy from any negative interaction. Walk away. Stop letting their tantrums emotionally affect you. And never buy into their accusations that you CAUSED them to feel how they're feeling. It is the same process you would teach small children and pets how to behave.
BEING STRUNG ALONG
When you're married to a person with borderline or narcissistic traits, you often end up feeling strung along--often for years--with promises and the hope of change. After an emotional uproar, your partner will seem truly contrite and promise: "I'll change. I'll do better. That was last week, I've really improved. You know I'm trying."
Their behaviors may change for awhile, but then seemingly out of the blue, you again get blamed and attacked--"I wouldn't have done that if you hadn't been rude first. Well, you do it too. I'm never good enough for you. Why are you always so negative?"
People with BP/NP traits want to stay in a relationship, but they are significantly challenged in their ability to change, see your point of view, or understand your feelings. They go through the motions, and they make a lot of excuses for their offensive behavior, always promising that things will be better--or that things are already better.
You end up feeling strung along hoping for change, growth, insight, and real connection. It always seems just over the horizon. They sometimes do change their negative or hurtful behaviors--for a time--but then inevitably go back to their preferred method of being in the world-self-centered on their own wants and needs.
Remember, promises are not progress.
So, what can you do when you think you're being strung along? First of all, keep actual track of promises, behaviors, and how long you've actually experienced the changed behavior. Mark occurrences on a calendar so you won't be as easily convinced that your observations are wrong.
Figure out for yourself how long you're willing to put up with the relationship if the behavior doesn't change--2 months, 6 months, a year, 5 years, etc. Decide also what you want or need to do if the negative behaviors continue past your tolerance point. What actions are YOU willing to take to deal with the issues?
Threatening and pleading never work in the long run. If your partner isn't changing, there are only two reasons--s/he won't or can't change. Which implies a lack of motivation or a lack of ability. Either way, you can't force it to happen.
Instead, focus on what you want. Figure out what you're actually getting from the relationship, and then ask yourself, "What can I do about it, and what choices do I have?" Start taking action to make your own life and your children's lives better. Waiting for decades for your partner to change, only makes your life more frustrating and unsatisfied.
Source: Margalis Fjesltad, Ph.D., LMFT
margalistherapy.com
Friday, January 19, 2018
Macbeth. Act V. Scene 1.
Lady Macbeth: "Out, damned spot, out! I say..."
Spots. Spots of blood. Spots of grease. Spots of mud. Spots can tell you a lot about what has happened, where, how and many times who as well.
So, Scarlett went down to see her mother today which she kindly told me about so that I could go to Tara and hang with Salty Dog for awhile. I also suspect our looming settlement conference had something to do with this change of heart in her but whatever works.
I timed my arrival for about an hour or so after I'd knew she'd have left and when I got there, opened the garage door where I knew I would see Salty Dog patiently waiting for someone to come.
He saw me come in, wagged his tail but didn't make a move to leave where he was sitting on the garage floor. So I walked over to him, sat down and told him how happy I was to see him. He looked behind himself a bit and my eyes followed his head movement.
Huh. What's this behind you Salty Dog I asked. It was a spot of motor oil. Odd. Salty Dog was sitting where my car would've been parked but it hasn't been there in quite a few months. Yet, here was a drip of motor oil. Fairly new. And obviously not from my car because I always backed mine in. This drip is where my trunk would've been. Last I checked, my trunk doesn't take any oil.
Strange indeed. How did a spot of motor oil get into my garage, in my parking space, 180 degrees from where my engine would have been? Wait a minute, Pecker doesn't have a car but Mr. Mercedes (aka Arnie) does. Hold it though. The last time I saw Arnies car it was parked in my driveway. And Scarlett, had indicated to me that it was over between them. Things just get stranger and stranger....Scarlett wouldn't be fibbing to me now would she?
So I thanked Salty Dog for pointing out this enigma to me and wrote dear Scarlett a note merely asking whose vehicle was dripping oil in my parking space. And as though things weren't weird enough, when she got back and called me to ask what I had done while I was over there, she made no mention whatsoever of that spot.
Anyway, to continue with Sir William Shakespeare's play, I felt as though I was the doctor at the end of this scene -
Doctor: Foul whisperings are abroad. Unnatural deeds Do breed unnatural troubles; infected minds To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets; More needs she the divine than the physician.
Thank you Bill, I couldn't have said it better myself!
Spots. Spots of blood. Spots of grease. Spots of mud. Spots can tell you a lot about what has happened, where, how and many times who as well.
So, Scarlett went down to see her mother today which she kindly told me about so that I could go to Tara and hang with Salty Dog for awhile. I also suspect our looming settlement conference had something to do with this change of heart in her but whatever works.
I timed my arrival for about an hour or so after I'd knew she'd have left and when I got there, opened the garage door where I knew I would see Salty Dog patiently waiting for someone to come.
He saw me come in, wagged his tail but didn't make a move to leave where he was sitting on the garage floor. So I walked over to him, sat down and told him how happy I was to see him. He looked behind himself a bit and my eyes followed his head movement.
Huh. What's this behind you Salty Dog I asked. It was a spot of motor oil. Odd. Salty Dog was sitting where my car would've been parked but it hasn't been there in quite a few months. Yet, here was a drip of motor oil. Fairly new. And obviously not from my car because I always backed mine in. This drip is where my trunk would've been. Last I checked, my trunk doesn't take any oil.
Strange indeed. How did a spot of motor oil get into my garage, in my parking space, 180 degrees from where my engine would have been? Wait a minute, Pecker doesn't have a car but Mr. Mercedes (aka Arnie) does. Hold it though. The last time I saw Arnies car it was parked in my driveway. And Scarlett, had indicated to me that it was over between them. Things just get stranger and stranger....Scarlett wouldn't be fibbing to me now would she?
So I thanked Salty Dog for pointing out this enigma to me and wrote dear Scarlett a note merely asking whose vehicle was dripping oil in my parking space. And as though things weren't weird enough, when she got back and called me to ask what I had done while I was over there, she made no mention whatsoever of that spot.
Anyway, to continue with Sir William Shakespeare's play, I felt as though I was the doctor at the end of this scene -
Doctor: Foul whisperings are abroad. Unnatural deeds Do breed unnatural troubles; infected minds To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets; More needs she the divine than the physician.
Thank you Bill, I couldn't have said it better myself!
Thursday, January 18, 2018
It Must Be The Postman's Fault
Here's an email exchange I had today with my attorney (Legal Beagle) concerning a Visa bill that Scarlett received in the mail yesterday. A bill from her own, sole and separate, 100% hers, nothing at all to do with me, Visa.
From: Legal Beagle
To: Salty Fog
Subject: FW: Marriage of Fog
I am in trial next week. What are your thoughts on his Visa bill comment.
Legal Beagle
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
From: Her Attorney
To: Legal Beagle
Subject: Marriage of Fog
Hello Legal.
1. Are you available to meet on Jan. 30th at 1:30?
2. Scarlett is telling me that she is in a real financial bind and cannot pay her Visa bill, etc. Can you talk to Salty about possibly advancing her some $ towards the settlement?
Her Attorney
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
From: Salty Fog
To: Legal Beagle
Subject: Re: Marriage of Fog
Yeah, I saw that Visa bill yesterday. I was at the house to pick up Salty Dog and take him off her hands for a little bit. I brought her mail in and that was one of the items. She opened it and started moaning and groaning "I can't pay this, I can't pay this...."
I said "well, you shouldn't have charged it all then" to which she replied, "I needed all this stuff" and started running her finger down the list of charges calling out groceries, gas, prescriptions etc. I was following her finger with my eyes and saw a charge to Men's Wearhouse....for $1,256 and change. So I asked her what it was that she "needed" at Men's Wearhouse. With that she pulled the bill to her chest, gave me a dirty, sour look and folded it back up to put in the envelope in which it came. At that point I told her I thought I'd just leave Salty Dog there and left.
Here's the deal. At the start of this she had $XX,000 in a checking account, $X,000 in cash and a Visa card of mine that I allowed her to keep and use. In the 20 months that this horseshit has been going on she has managed to piss away virtually all of that $XX,000 that she had sole control over, she also charged close to $XX,000 on that card of mine, that I paid, plus I paid for all the utilities, auto insurance, homeowners insurance, umbrella insurance, medical insurance, property taxes, the vast majority of her medical bills whether from her charging a co-pay on the card or me paying any and all balance due bills that came. She charged a cruise that I paid for, dance lessons and dance shoes that I paid for, 2 round trip tickets to XX that I paid for, a bed in XX at her daughters house that I paid for, she took friends out to eat on my dime, she bought thousands of dollars worth of clothes that I paid for. Groceries, gas etc.
Now, some of those expenses are legitimate and that's fine. But there is a whole bunch of them that are nothing but pure crap. And don't forget that she also saw fit to give away $XX,000 of it to her daughter ($X,000), her son ($X,000) and her brother ($X,000).
I told her quite a few times that she better slow it down. But, she did exactly what I was afraid she would do if she ever found herself in control of any large sum of money - she pissed it all away. I can't tell you how much time I spent, prior to this divorce thing, trying to figure out who I could appoint as her financial manager in the event that I died before her. My greatest fear was that she would blow through the money like Sherman through Atlanta and then wonder just what the hell happened.
Circling back to this Men's Wearhouse charge, I have a pretty damn good idea what that was about. One of her "boyfriends", a guy named Pecker....is pretty much a loser. He's 47, no car, no drivers license (it was revoked due to alcohol), lives in an apartment somewhere and rides the bus. I have a pretty strong hunch that $1,256 of suits, shoes, belts, shirts, ties are now in his possession. This is the same guy who I found at my house back in December 2 days after our settlement meeting. And the only reason I was over there was because Scarlett had called and left two messages telling me she was at Emergency. So I went over to the house to see how she was doing and there she was, lounging on the couch, Pecker doing some dishes and she proceeds to tell me that he is her "boyfriend". I also discovered a blood stained mattress from her hemorrhaging after they'd had what I imagine was some rather rough sex. And that's what led to another 911 call and her sorry ass being taken to emergency.
So to recap - she pisses through in 20 months what some families live on in a year without paying any of the normal and usual bills associated with said living (utilities, insurance etc), gives $XX,000 away, decides she should go on a cruise (that I get to pay for), was flipping $20's into her church's collection plate/bag whatever for months at a time, treats who knows how many people to lunches and dinners on me, brings strange men into my house AFTER ordering me to NOT bring any women to my house because that would humiliate her with the neighbors, and she decides that it's perfectly fine to buy some loser with a big out of control schlong $1,256 worth of clothing....and her attorney wants to know if I want to advance her some $ towards the settlement?
She wouldn't need it if she could practice some self control. If she didn't act like a god damn teenager. If she behaved in a reasonable manner befitting the 60 year old woman that she is. If she had just once stopped to think about just what the hell she was doing. Instead she wants to spend, spend, spend, then tell me that I am trying to make her poor, this is all my fault, I am the one to blame, she was a perfect wife, a godly woman blah blah blah.
She also has a second boyfriend. Don't know his name, I just call him Mr. Mercedes. Has a house in Palm Springs, Riverside and Cabo I believe. He's 63 or so. Maybe he'd like to advance some money to Scarlett so she can make good on a Visa bill that contains a charge for her other boyfriend. Oh, and it was Mr. Mercedes spending a night or two at my house that led her to call the police and threaten me with a restraining order when I saw his car in my driveway and asked her who her houseguest was.
I realize that this is somewhat rambling, but THIS is the best I can do as a summary of what I have been putting up with and dealing with from her since this all began. She's out of money? Not my doing. Not by a longshot. She's 60 fucking years old and it's high fucking time that she took some goddamn responsibility for her goddamn life. She can piss off.
______________________________________
From: Legal Beagle
To: Salty Fog
Subject: Re:Marriage of Fog
Got it. I will ask him to send me a copy of the bill. That will probably squash it.
Legal Beagle
From: Legal Beagle
To: Salty Fog
Subject: FW: Marriage of Fog
I am in trial next week. What are your thoughts on his Visa bill comment.
Legal Beagle
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
From: Her Attorney
To: Legal Beagle
Subject: Marriage of Fog
Hello Legal.
1. Are you available to meet on Jan. 30th at 1:30?
2. Scarlett is telling me that she is in a real financial bind and cannot pay her Visa bill, etc. Can you talk to Salty about possibly advancing her some $ towards the settlement?
Her Attorney
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
From: Salty Fog
To: Legal Beagle
Subject: Re: Marriage of Fog
Yeah, I saw that Visa bill yesterday. I was at the house to pick up Salty Dog and take him off her hands for a little bit. I brought her mail in and that was one of the items. She opened it and started moaning and groaning "I can't pay this, I can't pay this...."
I said "well, you shouldn't have charged it all then" to which she replied, "I needed all this stuff" and started running her finger down the list of charges calling out groceries, gas, prescriptions etc. I was following her finger with my eyes and saw a charge to Men's Wearhouse....for $1,256 and change. So I asked her what it was that she "needed" at Men's Wearhouse. With that she pulled the bill to her chest, gave me a dirty, sour look and folded it back up to put in the envelope in which it came. At that point I told her I thought I'd just leave Salty Dog there and left.
Here's the deal. At the start of this she had $XX,000 in a checking account, $X,000 in cash and a Visa card of mine that I allowed her to keep and use. In the 20 months that this horseshit has been going on she has managed to piss away virtually all of that $XX,000 that she had sole control over, she also charged close to $XX,000 on that card of mine, that I paid, plus I paid for all the utilities, auto insurance, homeowners insurance, umbrella insurance, medical insurance, property taxes, the vast majority of her medical bills whether from her charging a co-pay on the card or me paying any and all balance due bills that came. She charged a cruise that I paid for, dance lessons and dance shoes that I paid for, 2 round trip tickets to XX that I paid for, a bed in XX at her daughters house that I paid for, she took friends out to eat on my dime, she bought thousands of dollars worth of clothes that I paid for. Groceries, gas etc.
Now, some of those expenses are legitimate and that's fine. But there is a whole bunch of them that are nothing but pure crap. And don't forget that she also saw fit to give away $XX,000 of it to her daughter ($X,000), her son ($X,000) and her brother ($X,000).
I told her quite a few times that she better slow it down. But, she did exactly what I was afraid she would do if she ever found herself in control of any large sum of money - she pissed it all away. I can't tell you how much time I spent, prior to this divorce thing, trying to figure out who I could appoint as her financial manager in the event that I died before her. My greatest fear was that she would blow through the money like Sherman through Atlanta and then wonder just what the hell happened.
Circling back to this Men's Wearhouse charge, I have a pretty damn good idea what that was about. One of her "boyfriends", a guy named Pecker....is pretty much a loser. He's 47, no car, no drivers license (it was revoked due to alcohol), lives in an apartment somewhere and rides the bus. I have a pretty strong hunch that $1,256 of suits, shoes, belts, shirts, ties are now in his possession. This is the same guy who I found at my house back in December 2 days after our settlement meeting. And the only reason I was over there was because Scarlett had called and left two messages telling me she was at Emergency. So I went over to the house to see how she was doing and there she was, lounging on the couch, Pecker doing some dishes and she proceeds to tell me that he is her "boyfriend". I also discovered a blood stained mattress from her hemorrhaging after they'd had what I imagine was some rather rough sex. And that's what led to another 911 call and her sorry ass being taken to emergency.
So to recap - she pisses through in 20 months what some families live on in a year without paying any of the normal and usual bills associated with said living (utilities, insurance etc), gives $XX,000 away, decides she should go on a cruise (that I get to pay for), was flipping $20's into her church's collection plate/bag whatever for months at a time, treats who knows how many people to lunches and dinners on me, brings strange men into my house AFTER ordering me to NOT bring any women to my house because that would humiliate her with the neighbors, and she decides that it's perfectly fine to buy some loser with a big out of control schlong $1,256 worth of clothing....and her attorney wants to know if I want to advance her some $ towards the settlement?
She wouldn't need it if she could practice some self control. If she didn't act like a god damn teenager. If she behaved in a reasonable manner befitting the 60 year old woman that she is. If she had just once stopped to think about just what the hell she was doing. Instead she wants to spend, spend, spend, then tell me that I am trying to make her poor, this is all my fault, I am the one to blame, she was a perfect wife, a godly woman blah blah blah.
She also has a second boyfriend. Don't know his name, I just call him Mr. Mercedes. Has a house in Palm Springs, Riverside and Cabo I believe. He's 63 or so. Maybe he'd like to advance some money to Scarlett so she can make good on a Visa bill that contains a charge for her other boyfriend. Oh, and it was Mr. Mercedes spending a night or two at my house that led her to call the police and threaten me with a restraining order when I saw his car in my driveway and asked her who her houseguest was.
I realize that this is somewhat rambling, but THIS is the best I can do as a summary of what I have been putting up with and dealing with from her since this all began. She's out of money? Not my doing. Not by a longshot. She's 60 fucking years old and it's high fucking time that she took some goddamn responsibility for her goddamn life. She can piss off.
______________________________________
From: Legal Beagle
To: Salty Fog
Subject: Re:Marriage of Fog
Got it. I will ask him to send me a copy of the bill. That will probably squash it.
Tuesday, January 16, 2018
Another week
Another week gone and an unknown number to go. At least with the partial radio silence that Scarlett and I are on, the days have been quieter and far more productive. That's not to say that we haven't communicated but it is entirely via email now.
We have a mandatory settlement meeting coming up in a little over 2 weeks time. My gut feeling is that it will end up similar to the two previous times we tried this, with Scarlett acting out, acting outraged, behaving like an unruly 3 year old, calling me and my attorney names all the while not listening to hers to be quiet, simmer down, take it easy etc.
On the bright side though, and what gives me a little ray of hope, is a new counselor Scarlett found the other day. Not your typical one, this outfit deals with their clients strictly online or over the phone. Whether it be by texting or a chat room of some type I really have no idea. But the organization bills themselves as Counselors with a Biblical perspective. Otherwise known as "Christian Counselors".
That is something Scarlett has been searching for and for her sake I hope it will do her a world of good. Of course a lot of that depends on how open and honest she is concerning her past and present behavior. I'm sure I've mentioned this before, I know I have to Scarlett on other occasions under different circumstances but it still applies - If you're going to ask someone for help, whether a doctor, dentist, plumber, mechanic whatever, you don't do yourself any favors by lying, stretching the truth or trying to hide the truth.
Sadly I've known Scarlett long enough to know that when it comes to telling the truth, especially about herself, she's not always forthcoming. Casting blame and making excuses chews up a lot of her time. Which is not to say I have not done the same at times, I believe we all have, but the difference is in the frequency.
Haven't seen Salty Dog in about week now and not sure when I will at this point. The pleas to come walk and feed him or to come over and play with him have stopped. I've dropped a few not so subtle hints that I miss him and hope he is well, and the only response I've so far received is that she is sure he misses me as well. I can't say she that she's holding him hostage as she's been known to do in the past, but it's pretty close.
But since that's about the only hold she has left on me, I'm just not too eager to make a big deal out of it. You don't want to show the opposition your weakness!
We have a mandatory settlement meeting coming up in a little over 2 weeks time. My gut feeling is that it will end up similar to the two previous times we tried this, with Scarlett acting out, acting outraged, behaving like an unruly 3 year old, calling me and my attorney names all the while not listening to hers to be quiet, simmer down, take it easy etc.
On the bright side though, and what gives me a little ray of hope, is a new counselor Scarlett found the other day. Not your typical one, this outfit deals with their clients strictly online or over the phone. Whether it be by texting or a chat room of some type I really have no idea. But the organization bills themselves as Counselors with a Biblical perspective. Otherwise known as "Christian Counselors".
That is something Scarlett has been searching for and for her sake I hope it will do her a world of good. Of course a lot of that depends on how open and honest she is concerning her past and present behavior. I'm sure I've mentioned this before, I know I have to Scarlett on other occasions under different circumstances but it still applies - If you're going to ask someone for help, whether a doctor, dentist, plumber, mechanic whatever, you don't do yourself any favors by lying, stretching the truth or trying to hide the truth.
Sadly I've known Scarlett long enough to know that when it comes to telling the truth, especially about herself, she's not always forthcoming. Casting blame and making excuses chews up a lot of her time. Which is not to say I have not done the same at times, I believe we all have, but the difference is in the frequency.
Haven't seen Salty Dog in about week now and not sure when I will at this point. The pleas to come walk and feed him or to come over and play with him have stopped. I've dropped a few not so subtle hints that I miss him and hope he is well, and the only response I've so far received is that she is sure he misses me as well. I can't say she that she's holding him hostage as she's been known to do in the past, but it's pretty close.
But since that's about the only hold she has left on me, I'm just not too eager to make a big deal out of it. You don't want to show the opposition your weakness!
Tuesday, January 9, 2018
Scarlett in Dissonance Land
I've made mention before of Scarlett and her penchant for what can only be described as cognitive dissonance. Over the last few days I've come into knowledge of three more current instances of this disorder. But first a quick review of the characters and subjects that take center stage in her latest bout of psychosis.
Pecker - the unemployed young stud who managed to send her to the ER who has no car, no drivers license, a record of some sort and who accompanied Scarlett to a Christmas evening with her (dysfunctional) family.
Virginia - Scarlett's daughter who married and moved far away, popped two children who Scarlett claims to adore more than life itself. Virginia has at various times exhibited a tendency towards substance abuse.
Mr. Virginia - Scarlett's son-in-law, father of the grandkids who may or may not have a substance abuse problem.
Scarlett's attorney - Let's call him Barry, as in the English Barrister. My heart truly goes out to this poor fool because I know just what type of a client he has.
Money, Alcohol, Christianity, Separate Property, Living Arrangements, Cross Country Moves, Mother-Daughter Relationships, Girlfriend-Boyfriend Relationships and Feelings of Entitlement pretty much cover the subjects.
Disclaimer: The author of this blog assumes no responsibility for headaches, blurred vision, psychotic breaks, loss of hair, tremors, uncontrollable fits of screaming/laughter or any other medical, emotional or psychological side effects caused or induced by the reading of the following. Elderly individuals may wish to consult with their physician first. Please keep small children in your lap at all times. Management strongly discourages the consumption of alcohol during this ride. Proceed at your own risk.
Cognitive Dissonance #1: Scarlett has had an on again/off again theory that my father is the one pulling the strings in this divorce action. That she herself started... In her mind I am but a mere puppet simply responding to the hidden tugs, twitches, pulls and drops of my puppet master. Poppycock, balderdash and falderal are all words that spring to mind whenever this particular charge is levied. Undeterred, Scarlett has expanded this theory to now include the "fact" that her attorney has been co-opted by my father, through a hidden payoff, and is therefore secretly working for him and not her. However, side-by-side with this theory is a new game plan, that may or may not come to fruition, that involves the deposing of my parents to ask them questions concerning separate property. Scarlett knows that there are separate property issues involved here yet refuses to acknowledge them. So, between her and her attorney (who is secretly in my dad's employ) they have come up with this idea of a deposition. Left unanswered I suppose is why her attorney, who is doing my father's bidding would agree to depose his own hidden client.
Cognitive Dissonance #2: Scarlett has an alcohol problem. Not herself but with others. Or at least some others. Most of the time. At least when she doesn't. Or it's not in her best interests. But, let me explain. According to Scarlett, Salty at one point had a drinking issue. Now, Salty quite frankly denies this but in any event, for various reasons decided over 21 years ago to just walk away from it. No muss, no fuss. Since that time however, on at least 6 different occasions, Scarlett made it quite clear that should Salty ever have so much as another adult fermented beverage she would leave him. Oh how tempting that was at times! Then along comes a Pecker.
There are some subtle differences between Salty and Pecker. In no particular order they are as follows:
Salty has a car, driver's license, a job, a future and a fully paid for house.
Pecker has....a backpack, a police record (due to alcohol), a student ID, no car, no driver's license (due to alcohol), no job (due to alcohol) and seemingly not much of a future (due to alcohol). And he lives in an apartment with 3 other guys. At ~ 47 years old....due to alcohol.
See what I mean? Very subtle differences. You can hardly pick them up.
Anyway, it's not really any secret that during the rendezvous between Scarlett and Pecker, things have been greased with the aid of adult beverages. To excess. In any event, Scarlett has also "broken up" twice with Pecker. But now wants him back. Why? Salty doesn't care, in fact Salty wishes her all the best. But what Salty can't wrap his head around is Scarlett's demand that Salty never touch another drop but she is perfectly fine with someone who's entire life has been drop kicked into the toilet because of it. Is it because Scarlett feels as though she's top dog in that relationship? That she can call the shots? Don't know and really don't care. But it is a puzzle and Salty likes to solve puzzles. Though admittedly there are some puzzles you should just put back on the shelf and never bother with again.
Cognitive Dissonance #3: Another one related to alcohol. Mr. and Mrs. Virginia, the parents of Scarlett's grand kids, have both been known to drink to excess at times. And that is putting things mildly. Mr. Virginia serves our country in a branch of the service and was informed late last year that he would be deployed soon for a one year stint. Mrs. Virginia, I am told, impressed upon Scarlett how nice it would be if Scarlett moved back there during this time to help with the kids. And Scarlett was ecstatic. So that was the plan. Now, as the service is known to do, they have changed their collective minds on Mr. Virginia's deployment. Scarlett discovered this news on a phone call with Mrs. Virginia who was three sheets to the wind at the time. Prior to this, Mr. Virginia had gotten sauced one evening then for reasons unknown decided it would be a grand idea to try and take his own life. Scarlett was aware of this as well. So all of this now adds up to Scarlett not wanting to make this move. Why? Well, certainly the change in deployment was a factor but, funny thing, that reason was not mentioned by Scarlett. Her reason? She didn't want to deal with the "drama" of Mr and Mrs. Virginia's drinking..... wait, what?
Scarlett is ok with Pecker's drinking but she's not okay with drinking that is going on in the presence of her grandkids. Drinking that leads to someone thinking it a good idea to commit suicide. Another puzzle here for Salty. Wouldn't it be better for Scarlett's grandkids to have her there to act as some sort of refuge against mom and dad when they each go off on a toot? And wouldn't she be better off to walk away from someone whose life has been tossed into the gutter because of drinking?
Well, Salty certainly seems to believe so, but then his opinion has not been asked for. Nor, likely will it. Ever. Which is fine.
So, how does all this end? Who knows. The only thing Salty knows for sure is that he is damn glad he's on his way out of this nuthouse.
Pecker - the unemployed young stud who managed to send her to the ER who has no car, no drivers license, a record of some sort and who accompanied Scarlett to a Christmas evening with her (dysfunctional) family.
Virginia - Scarlett's daughter who married and moved far away, popped two children who Scarlett claims to adore more than life itself. Virginia has at various times exhibited a tendency towards substance abuse.
Mr. Virginia - Scarlett's son-in-law, father of the grandkids who may or may not have a substance abuse problem.
Scarlett's attorney - Let's call him Barry, as in the English Barrister. My heart truly goes out to this poor fool because I know just what type of a client he has.
Money, Alcohol, Christianity, Separate Property, Living Arrangements, Cross Country Moves, Mother-Daughter Relationships, Girlfriend-Boyfriend Relationships and Feelings of Entitlement pretty much cover the subjects.
Disclaimer: The author of this blog assumes no responsibility for headaches, blurred vision, psychotic breaks, loss of hair, tremors, uncontrollable fits of screaming/laughter or any other medical, emotional or psychological side effects caused or induced by the reading of the following. Elderly individuals may wish to consult with their physician first. Please keep small children in your lap at all times. Management strongly discourages the consumption of alcohol during this ride. Proceed at your own risk.
Cognitive Dissonance #1: Scarlett has had an on again/off again theory that my father is the one pulling the strings in this divorce action. That she herself started... In her mind I am but a mere puppet simply responding to the hidden tugs, twitches, pulls and drops of my puppet master. Poppycock, balderdash and falderal are all words that spring to mind whenever this particular charge is levied. Undeterred, Scarlett has expanded this theory to now include the "fact" that her attorney has been co-opted by my father, through a hidden payoff, and is therefore secretly working for him and not her. However, side-by-side with this theory is a new game plan, that may or may not come to fruition, that involves the deposing of my parents to ask them questions concerning separate property. Scarlett knows that there are separate property issues involved here yet refuses to acknowledge them. So, between her and her attorney (who is secretly in my dad's employ) they have come up with this idea of a deposition. Left unanswered I suppose is why her attorney, who is doing my father's bidding would agree to depose his own hidden client.
Cognitive Dissonance #2: Scarlett has an alcohol problem. Not herself but with others. Or at least some others. Most of the time. At least when she doesn't. Or it's not in her best interests. But, let me explain. According to Scarlett, Salty at one point had a drinking issue. Now, Salty quite frankly denies this but in any event, for various reasons decided over 21 years ago to just walk away from it. No muss, no fuss. Since that time however, on at least 6 different occasions, Scarlett made it quite clear that should Salty ever have so much as another adult fermented beverage she would leave him. Oh how tempting that was at times! Then along comes a Pecker.
There are some subtle differences between Salty and Pecker. In no particular order they are as follows:
Salty has a car, driver's license, a job, a future and a fully paid for house.
Pecker has....a backpack, a police record (due to alcohol), a student ID, no car, no driver's license (due to alcohol), no job (due to alcohol) and seemingly not much of a future (due to alcohol). And he lives in an apartment with 3 other guys. At ~ 47 years old....due to alcohol.
See what I mean? Very subtle differences. You can hardly pick them up.
Anyway, it's not really any secret that during the rendezvous between Scarlett and Pecker, things have been greased with the aid of adult beverages. To excess. In any event, Scarlett has also "broken up" twice with Pecker. But now wants him back. Why? Salty doesn't care, in fact Salty wishes her all the best. But what Salty can't wrap his head around is Scarlett's demand that Salty never touch another drop but she is perfectly fine with someone who's entire life has been drop kicked into the toilet because of it. Is it because Scarlett feels as though she's top dog in that relationship? That she can call the shots? Don't know and really don't care. But it is a puzzle and Salty likes to solve puzzles. Though admittedly there are some puzzles you should just put back on the shelf and never bother with again.
Cognitive Dissonance #3: Another one related to alcohol. Mr. and Mrs. Virginia, the parents of Scarlett's grand kids, have both been known to drink to excess at times. And that is putting things mildly. Mr. Virginia serves our country in a branch of the service and was informed late last year that he would be deployed soon for a one year stint. Mrs. Virginia, I am told, impressed upon Scarlett how nice it would be if Scarlett moved back there during this time to help with the kids. And Scarlett was ecstatic. So that was the plan. Now, as the service is known to do, they have changed their collective minds on Mr. Virginia's deployment. Scarlett discovered this news on a phone call with Mrs. Virginia who was three sheets to the wind at the time. Prior to this, Mr. Virginia had gotten sauced one evening then for reasons unknown decided it would be a grand idea to try and take his own life. Scarlett was aware of this as well. So all of this now adds up to Scarlett not wanting to make this move. Why? Well, certainly the change in deployment was a factor but, funny thing, that reason was not mentioned by Scarlett. Her reason? She didn't want to deal with the "drama" of Mr and Mrs. Virginia's drinking..... wait, what?
Scarlett is ok with Pecker's drinking but she's not okay with drinking that is going on in the presence of her grandkids. Drinking that leads to someone thinking it a good idea to commit suicide. Another puzzle here for Salty. Wouldn't it be better for Scarlett's grandkids to have her there to act as some sort of refuge against mom and dad when they each go off on a toot? And wouldn't she be better off to walk away from someone whose life has been tossed into the gutter because of drinking?
Well, Salty certainly seems to believe so, but then his opinion has not been asked for. Nor, likely will it. Ever. Which is fine.
So, how does all this end? Who knows. The only thing Salty knows for sure is that he is damn glad he's on his way out of this nuthouse.
Friday, January 5, 2018
Aces and Eights
I think it's time Salty threw in the towel.
I've spent the past don't how many months giving Scarlett the benefit of the doubt, turning the other cheek, trying to believe what she tells me, hoping that she will take some serious responsibility for her life, make better choices, learn to tell the truth, behave as an adult not as a spoiled ill mannered teenager, plan for her future, prioritize, learn the difference between wants and needs, cease being a hypocrite, learn what the word hypocrite means, settle down, get serious, stop trying to manipulate, cease with trying to throw guilt trips on me, stop being dramatic, stop exaggerating, stop lying....Simply stated, to just stop being a 15 year old kid and act like the 60 year old adult that she is.
But. As I mentioned in one of my first posts, Kenny Rogers had it right years ago.
You've got to know when to hold 'em
Know when to fold 'em
Know when to walk away
And know when to run
You never count your money
When you're sittin' at the table
There'll be time enough for countin'
When the dealin's done
Now, I gave up any thought of trying to make something work with us pretty much from the beginning of this saga. That was never the issue. What I did want to do however was help Miss Scarlett get as good a start on a new life as possible. That took many forms. From letting her vent her spleen at me, cry, scream, yell, say things that would make a sailor blush, listen to her reflect on how badly she'd been treating me, accept at face value her promise to reform, do countless favors for her that I was under absolutely no moral or legal obligation to perform...wash, rinse and repeat.
I did one of those many favors for her just a couple of days ago. Well, actually for the past 3 days but it's the one only 2 days ago that is important here.
She's been feeling under the weather lately. Whether that is due to illness or just too much fun I don't know, nor do I care. Suffice to say that she did not feel at all well enough to give Salty Dog his morning walk. So I've taken care of that most of this week. Wednesday however, she asked if I could take her to a doctor's appointment after the walk. Fine. Get in my car and lets go.
So while I am taking her to this appointment she mentions that she needs "help". Money help. She's broke. Has bills she can't pay. This is going to hurt her credit rating. Without repeating what I said word-for-word, I in essence told her that her being broke was not my doing it was hers. A good credit rating is reserved for those who manage their financial resources intelligently and a bad rating is for those who show they can't. She has well earned a bad credit rating. The bills will eventually get paid but likely with late fees attached and that's her fault not mine.
She then starts talking about the divorce. Wants me to put my last offer back on the table and we can be done. Nope, not going to do that I tell her. You had your chance, you blew it tough luck. At which point she tries to use the "I'll take you to court" card. Told her to please do. I am able, willing and prepared to take this into court. In fact, nothing would please me more than to present to a judge all that I have done for you, all that I have put up with from you and all that I have suffered with because of you. Please, do me that favor.
This conversation is not going in the direction Scarlett had hoped.
Then she starts to cry. Tells me that I'm right she's a loser, a whore, no one wants her, the guys she's been seeing are only using her, she feels ashamed, humiliated, embarrassed and yes she has been acting like a teenager.
The trouble with Scarlett and crying is that, for the life of me, I don't know anymore when they are tears of sincerity or just crocodile tears. But there was a glimmer of hope in me that maybe, just maybe I'd gotten through this time.
Well, that thought was put to rest this morning when I found out that Pecker is back in the picture. Pecker, the one that she "broke up with" right after Christmas. And he's coming over to Tara today to spend the weekend.
Every gambler knows
That the secret to survivin'
Is knowin' what to throw away
And knowin' what to keep
'Cause every hand's a winner
And every hand's a loser
And the best that you can hope for is to die
in your sleep
I've held aces and eights for far too long. Time to fold and leave the table.
As for dying in my sleep, I can only hope that that day is years and years away long after the bitter memories from this poker game have faded away and I find myself at another table with a winning pat hand.
I've spent the past don't how many months giving Scarlett the benefit of the doubt, turning the other cheek, trying to believe what she tells me, hoping that she will take some serious responsibility for her life, make better choices, learn to tell the truth, behave as an adult not as a spoiled ill mannered teenager, plan for her future, prioritize, learn the difference between wants and needs, cease being a hypocrite, learn what the word hypocrite means, settle down, get serious, stop trying to manipulate, cease with trying to throw guilt trips on me, stop being dramatic, stop exaggerating, stop lying....Simply stated, to just stop being a 15 year old kid and act like the 60 year old adult that she is.
But. As I mentioned in one of my first posts, Kenny Rogers had it right years ago.
You've got to know when to hold 'em
Know when to fold 'em
Know when to walk away
And know when to run
You never count your money
When you're sittin' at the table
There'll be time enough for countin'
When the dealin's done
Now, I gave up any thought of trying to make something work with us pretty much from the beginning of this saga. That was never the issue. What I did want to do however was help Miss Scarlett get as good a start on a new life as possible. That took many forms. From letting her vent her spleen at me, cry, scream, yell, say things that would make a sailor blush, listen to her reflect on how badly she'd been treating me, accept at face value her promise to reform, do countless favors for her that I was under absolutely no moral or legal obligation to perform...wash, rinse and repeat.
I did one of those many favors for her just a couple of days ago. Well, actually for the past 3 days but it's the one only 2 days ago that is important here.
She's been feeling under the weather lately. Whether that is due to illness or just too much fun I don't know, nor do I care. Suffice to say that she did not feel at all well enough to give Salty Dog his morning walk. So I've taken care of that most of this week. Wednesday however, she asked if I could take her to a doctor's appointment after the walk. Fine. Get in my car and lets go.
So while I am taking her to this appointment she mentions that she needs "help". Money help. She's broke. Has bills she can't pay. This is going to hurt her credit rating. Without repeating what I said word-for-word, I in essence told her that her being broke was not my doing it was hers. A good credit rating is reserved for those who manage their financial resources intelligently and a bad rating is for those who show they can't. She has well earned a bad credit rating. The bills will eventually get paid but likely with late fees attached and that's her fault not mine.
She then starts talking about the divorce. Wants me to put my last offer back on the table and we can be done. Nope, not going to do that I tell her. You had your chance, you blew it tough luck. At which point she tries to use the "I'll take you to court" card. Told her to please do. I am able, willing and prepared to take this into court. In fact, nothing would please me more than to present to a judge all that I have done for you, all that I have put up with from you and all that I have suffered with because of you. Please, do me that favor.
This conversation is not going in the direction Scarlett had hoped.
Then she starts to cry. Tells me that I'm right she's a loser, a whore, no one wants her, the guys she's been seeing are only using her, she feels ashamed, humiliated, embarrassed and yes she has been acting like a teenager.
The trouble with Scarlett and crying is that, for the life of me, I don't know anymore when they are tears of sincerity or just crocodile tears. But there was a glimmer of hope in me that maybe, just maybe I'd gotten through this time.
Well, that thought was put to rest this morning when I found out that Pecker is back in the picture. Pecker, the one that she "broke up with" right after Christmas. And he's coming over to Tara today to spend the weekend.
Every gambler knows
That the secret to survivin'
Is knowin' what to throw away
And knowin' what to keep
'Cause every hand's a winner
And every hand's a loser
And the best that you can hope for is to die
in your sleep
I've held aces and eights for far too long. Time to fold and leave the table.
As for dying in my sleep, I can only hope that that day is years and years away long after the bitter memories from this poker game have faded away and I find myself at another table with a winning pat hand.
Tuesday, January 2, 2018
200+ messages and counting
So. In theory I went dark on Scarlett the day after Christmas. In theory. Phone is blocked and I thought email was as well. But through her stupid smart phone she is able to send messages to my email. Since Sunday I have been fortunate enough to receive over 200. Likely over 300 by the time I am finished with this particular post.
I've probably responded to no more than a dozen of these which some would say just feed her desire to continue the onslaught. I don't believe so. She has something to say and damn if I am not entitled and required to know what that is.
Scarlett talked to her attorney today and was told that the deal I took off the table back in mid December was in fact off the table. I've told her this, to her face at least twice, over email at least once and on the phone once or twice. Yet today she is shocked and surprised at this news. And that's what the nearly 100 messages/emails over the past, not quite 2 hours, have all been about.
She is trying every tactic in the book to get me to renege on my withdrawal. Guilt, living with myself, ruining her financially and emotionally, bills she cannot pay, a move that must now be delayed (with horrific consequences that I will bear the blame for in her telling), being mean, going against God, the Golden Rule...and it just goes on and on and on and on and on.
I have been sorely tempted to respond to some of the more outrageous statements, the absolute denial of known and established facts but I don't believe now is the time nor the place for these rebuttals. One of her threats is to take this matter into court and lay it before a judge. That, to me, would be the best time and place for any and all rebuttals I have concerning her lies and half truths.
But in the meantime, I just continue to receive, read and store the latest vitriol from her. She even went so far as to say that we should get back together. I should just come home if I'm not going to resurrect the overly generous offer I made and subsequently removed last month. Who thinks like that?
For the time being, Scarlett seems to have exhausted herself or perhaps because she has failed to get any response, let alone a rise, out of me, she has moved on to other things. For awhile.
Happy new year indeed.
I've probably responded to no more than a dozen of these which some would say just feed her desire to continue the onslaught. I don't believe so. She has something to say and damn if I am not entitled and required to know what that is.
Scarlett talked to her attorney today and was told that the deal I took off the table back in mid December was in fact off the table. I've told her this, to her face at least twice, over email at least once and on the phone once or twice. Yet today she is shocked and surprised at this news. And that's what the nearly 100 messages/emails over the past, not quite 2 hours, have all been about.
She is trying every tactic in the book to get me to renege on my withdrawal. Guilt, living with myself, ruining her financially and emotionally, bills she cannot pay, a move that must now be delayed (with horrific consequences that I will bear the blame for in her telling), being mean, going against God, the Golden Rule...and it just goes on and on and on and on and on.
I have been sorely tempted to respond to some of the more outrageous statements, the absolute denial of known and established facts but I don't believe now is the time nor the place for these rebuttals. One of her threats is to take this matter into court and lay it before a judge. That, to me, would be the best time and place for any and all rebuttals I have concerning her lies and half truths.
But in the meantime, I just continue to receive, read and store the latest vitriol from her. She even went so far as to say that we should get back together. I should just come home if I'm not going to resurrect the overly generous offer I made and subsequently removed last month. Who thinks like that?
For the time being, Scarlett seems to have exhausted herself or perhaps because she has failed to get any response, let alone a rise, out of me, she has moved on to other things. For awhile.
Happy new year indeed.
Tuesday, December 26, 2017
Gone Dark
This morning I was greeted with 23 separate texts from Scarlett running the gamut between my mental state, her "Christianity", what medications I am or am not on and more or less ending with some veiled threat concerning an eventual settlement and court. I responded to 6 of those texts as well as ignoring one phone call from her in the midst of her text storm.
Shortly after that fun had died down, I received an email from my attorney telling me he had just spoken to Scarlett's attorney and that she was complaining about me trying to contact her by text, phone and email and she wanted to pursue a restraining order.
My attorney suspected that much, most, if not all of what he'd heard was probably hyperbole but that it would still be in my best interests to just "go dark". Which sounded like an excellent idea to me.
So I have blocked both of her numbers as well as her email address (which I own and control anyway) from my phone and email. The silence that has ensued is truly golden, with the added benefit that, knowing Scarlett, she is probably now climbing the walls and jumping out of her skin because I am ignoring her. That is one thing the Cluster B's just will not tolerate. Being ignored.
They need their drama, their chaos and conflict. And they need someone else to supply the raw material for that drama, chaos and conflict. Sorry Scarlett. I've grown tired of the game. The lies. The hypocrisy. The 180 degree turns. I am done. Finished. Through.
I was advised to do all of this shortly after this divorce proceeding started. I didn't feel then that it was a good idea. Funny how someone twisting reality and making it sound like they've been the innocent victim in all the drama they themselves have created can change your mind.
Good luck Scarlett. I await your psychotic break with eager anticipation.
Shortly after that fun had died down, I received an email from my attorney telling me he had just spoken to Scarlett's attorney and that she was complaining about me trying to contact her by text, phone and email and she wanted to pursue a restraining order.
My attorney suspected that much, most, if not all of what he'd heard was probably hyperbole but that it would still be in my best interests to just "go dark". Which sounded like an excellent idea to me.
So I have blocked both of her numbers as well as her email address (which I own and control anyway) from my phone and email. The silence that has ensued is truly golden, with the added benefit that, knowing Scarlett, she is probably now climbing the walls and jumping out of her skin because I am ignoring her. That is one thing the Cluster B's just will not tolerate. Being ignored.
They need their drama, their chaos and conflict. And they need someone else to supply the raw material for that drama, chaos and conflict. Sorry Scarlett. I've grown tired of the game. The lies. The hypocrisy. The 180 degree turns. I am done. Finished. Through.
I was advised to do all of this shortly after this divorce proceeding started. I didn't feel then that it was a good idea. Funny how someone twisting reality and making it sound like they've been the innocent victim in all the drama they themselves have created can change your mind.
Good luck Scarlett. I await your psychotic break with eager anticipation.
Monday, December 25, 2017
Twas the night before Christmas
“‘Twas The Night Before Christmas”
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, only Salty Dog was sleeping, not so the louse. Her stockings were flung by the bed with no care, in anticipation of Pecker soon to be there.
The neighbors were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of sugarplums danced in their heads. And good people in town, and I at my site, had just settled our brains for a long winter night.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, Scarlett sprang from her bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window she flew like a flash, tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon, on the breast of the new-fallen snow, gave a luster of midday to objects below, when, what to her cheating eyes should appear, but a miniature uber and eight tiny men (my dear), with a little old driver so lively and quick, she knew in a moment it must be St. Dick!
More rapid than eagles his cheaters they came, and he whistled and shouted but Scarlett called them by name:
“Now, Pecker! Now, Arnie! Now, Kirk and whoever! On, roommate! On, wedding guy! On,
Bud and no name! In the backseat, against the wall, now, ravage me! Ravage me! Ravage
me all!”
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, when they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky, so up to the driveway the cheaters they flew, with the uber full of sex toys, and St. Dickolas too. And then, in a twinkling, she heard on the ground the prancing and pawing of each little sex hound. As she drew in her head, and was turning around, up the stairs St. Dickolas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur from his head to his foot, and his clothes were all tarnished with blood and goop; a bundle of sex toys he had flung on his back, and he looked like a pervert just opening his crack. His eyes, how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry! His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry. His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, and the bottle in his hand was empty long ago.
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, and the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath. He had a broad face and a little round belly that shook when he laughed like a bowl full of KY jelly. He was chubby and plump, a right sick little elf, and she screamed when she saw him, in spite of herself.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head soon gave her to know she had everything to dread. He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, and defiled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk. Laying his finger aside of his nose, and giving a nod, down the stairs he go'ed. He sprang to his uber, to his team gave a whistle, and away they all flew like the down of a thistle. But she heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight…
“You had a good thing, but Satan awaits you this night!”
Saturday, December 23, 2017
Go To Jail, Go Directly To Jail...Or Not
Some background; Got a call from Scarlett who was at the store wanting to know whether I had carried through on my warning to her that I would be taking her off the one remaining credit card of mine that she was still using. Told her yes. And she hung up. A little later I received another call informing me that what I'd done was illegal and that I could go to jail so I better reinstate her pronto. She told me to review the back page of the divorce summons she'd had me served with a year ago this past May.
What follows, in the order that it occured is the email exchange between us. I post this not to necessarily cast any aspersions on Scarlett but to show beyond a shadow of a doubt, that my claims of her immaturity, inability to properly handle money, piss poor decision making capability as well as her desire to put the responsibility for her actions onto others is not just some fantasy of mine.
- Salty
On Dec 23, 2017, at 3:42 PM, Salty wrote:
So I'm going to jail? Because I removed you as an authorized user from my credit card? Not hardly.
That does not fall under my fiduciary duty. What does fall under that category is the requirement to provide 5 days advance notice prior to incurring any extraordinary expense. You know, like..oh let me think...$**,000 of cash "gifts". Like that.
You don't have any money? Tough. Maybe if you hadn't spent the past 19 months giving it away to XXXX, XXXXX, XXXX, eating establishments, church, Venus, some dumb kid in Central America or wherever that scam is taking place, triple pane windows....and that's just off the top of my head concerning the money you liberated from A*** and the safes that you yourself spent.
Over that same 19 month span of time you also managed to charge over $**,000 on just the S******* card! In other words, what you blew through in 19 months is what some FAMILIES live on for a year! And you think I'm going to reinstate anything? No. Let me repeat that. NO!
Reclaim the money you gave away from XXXX. From XXXXX. From XXXX. Why the hell did I have to pay almost $*00 to fix her washer when you'd already given her (at least) $*,000 of OUR money??
You blew it Scarlett. Big time. I told you for years to slow it down. I even told you during the past 19 months to slow it down. Told you you better be careful. Did you listen? Absolutely not. And what happened? Exactly what I knew would happen. You spent yourself broke and now you're trying to drag me down with you. Piss on that.
You know what the final straw was that led me to removing you as an authorized user? Of course you do. But just in case - your absolutely stupid, humiliating, teenage f**k me night with "boy" ...and how did that end?? Oh yeah, with you in a puddle of your own blood, slipping and falling in your own blood and defiling a marriage bed with that same blood. You must be so proud. Does your mom know about this? Someone really ought to tell her....
You made your (bloody) bed Scarlett. Hope you enjoy lying in it. Maybe Mr. too-afraid-to-come-out-and-face-me-Mercedes can help you out. Unbelievable! Did that poor sap know he was sleeping in a bed stained in blood and who knows what else from someone else from only a week ago??
You are sick Scarlett. Really sick. Or maybe you just never grew up. Or both. A sick little teenager.
Sent: Saturday, December 23, 2017 3:48 PM
To: Salty
Subject: Re: Jail
Yes. You WILL go to jail. Merry Christmas. I have 0 money to buy gifts. Thanks for making it even better. I just wanted it to be January so I could get as far away from you as possible. Congratulations! You have just made it lovelier. No I have no money to buy gifts, eat, or put gas in my car. YES!! It is illegal for you to do this!!!
Uh, no Scarlett. It is stupid, irresponsible, immature and foolish for you to have done this to yourself. Were $**,000 of gifts necessary? NO. Triple pane windows? NO. A cruise? NO. Almost $*,000 (probably more) of clothes? NO. Dance lessons? NO. Dance shoes? NO. Central American poor kid scam? NO. Constantly eating out? NO. Changing locks? NO. Destroying safes? NO. An ER visit on 12/14 due to an illicit sexual encounter? NO.
You have NO money to buy gifts or gas because of what YOU foolishly decided to spend money on! Illegal for ME to do this??? I had NOTHING to do with it except to again and again and again try and talk SOME sense into you! YOU did this to yourself Scarlett. YOU! Not me. It's long past time that YOU take responsibility for YOUR actions! YOU took $**,000 and change away from me last year. $** grand. FAMILIES live on that. YOU pissed it away. YOU! And now you try and pin the blame for YOUR irresponsible actions on someone else? Please, bring the charges. I will relish explaining all of this to any judge!
YOU are responsible for your stupid, immature, childish decisions and YOU get to deal with the consequences of those stupid, immature and childish decisions. YOU! Not me. YOU!
Surprised you voted for Trump when Bernie seems more your style. But the problem with socialism, as you've just discovered, is that eventually you run out of other people's money to piss away.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Thursday, December 21, 2017
Hello, My Name Is...
So I had to run over to a drug store to pick up some Rx's for myself. It's close to Tara so I drove by and what did my eyes see but a strange car parked in my driveway. Being the curious sort, I stopped and pulled in right behind it. Then I retrieved my phone and called Scarlett to inquire who her house guest was.
"Fuck! I didn't ask you to come over!" was her response. Sounds like an awfully long name to me....the little man probably was made fun of all through school with that kind of name.
Fuck! Pay attention in class.
Fuck! If you have something to share I'm sure the rest of the class would be interested. Fuck! How many times do I need to tell you to be quiet?
Fuck! One more peep out of you and you're going to the principal's office!
Fuck! I didn't ask you to come over! I will only say this one more time. Are you hearing me?
And can you imagine the playground?
Fuck! You don't know shit. So let me introduce you, Fuck!, this is Shit. Shit, this is Fuck!
I feel an Abbott and Costello bit coming on....
Anyway, I continue my inquiry and note that Scarlett is quickly (re)gaining her reputation as a whore. My calls continue for a few minutes as she for one reason or another seems to be hanging up on me. Can't imagine why.
Scarlett finally emerges from what is now the neighborhood whorehouse and asks "What is wrong with you?" What's wrong with me? Seriously? So I just ask again (this gets so tiring) who her house guest is. "I'm getting on with my life" is the response. What? This guy has multiple names?? But on the hunch that what she just said was not his name but instead a statement of some sort I corrected her by telling her that in fact her life was not "getting on" as she thought but rather was headed down the toilet.
She took offense to that and announced that she was going back inside and calling the police. I invited her to do just that so that there would be a record of her and her behavior. But I also had Rx's to pick up. So, since Fuck! was not going to come out and play I left.
About half an hour or so later I received a call from Tara. However, it was a male voice who asked if he was speaking to Salty. I informed him that this was indeed his phone. He proceeded to tell me that he was Officer Whatshisname from the Fog Beach PD. My response was "So says the voice on the phone". He managed to convince me that he was who he said he was and not Fuck!.
So we had a nice little conversation about what does and does not constitute harassment, my concern about a total stranger being in a house that I own the majority of and that still contains the vast majority of my items, items that I have no idea whether they are being pocketed by Mr. Fuck! or destroyed, damaged, being listed on ebay, etc. Mr. Officer seemed to understand my concern but wanted to make it clear to me that I was not to come over to MY house unless specifically asked and that he had listened to my messages and that if those were to continue it could be construed as a crime.
So I asked Mr. Officer if I could ask him a question. Sure, he said. Okay then, if voice mails can be considered harassment and possibly a crime, what about emails? Why yes, he said those as well. Good. Because I have saved in excess of 200 emails from Scarlett that make what I said in 5 messages look pale by comparison. I also informed him that yes, I have come over to MY house a handful of times unannounced but by far the vast majority - 98% or so of the time, have been at her request or command.
I was informed that he was not going to be doing anything more than just writing up a report but if this behaviour (on both ends) continued that either one of us could request a restraining order on the other. Color me gobsmacked.....
And that's where it lies now. Scarlett believes that she really put Salty in his place when all she really accomplished was reducing her share of the settlement even further. Not to mention now being completely on her own.
Still don't know what Fuck! looks like but I have a hunch it's something like a little sniveling 98 pound weakling and coward who sends a whore out to do his talking for him.
Told you I was going to start having some fun with this!
"Fuck! I didn't ask you to come over!" was her response. Sounds like an awfully long name to me....the little man probably was made fun of all through school with that kind of name.
Fuck! Pay attention in class.
Fuck! If you have something to share I'm sure the rest of the class would be interested. Fuck! How many times do I need to tell you to be quiet?
Fuck! One more peep out of you and you're going to the principal's office!
Fuck! I didn't ask you to come over! I will only say this one more time. Are you hearing me?And can you imagine the playground?
Fuck! You don't know shit. So let me introduce you, Fuck!, this is Shit. Shit, this is Fuck!
I feel an Abbott and Costello bit coming on....
Anyway, I continue my inquiry and note that Scarlett is quickly (re)gaining her reputation as a whore. My calls continue for a few minutes as she for one reason or another seems to be hanging up on me. Can't imagine why.
Scarlett finally emerges from what is now the neighborhood whorehouse and asks "What is wrong with you?" What's wrong with me? Seriously? So I just ask again (this gets so tiring) who her house guest is. "I'm getting on with my life" is the response. What? This guy has multiple names?? But on the hunch that what she just said was not his name but instead a statement of some sort I corrected her by telling her that in fact her life was not "getting on" as she thought but rather was headed down the toilet.
She took offense to that and announced that she was going back inside and calling the police. I invited her to do just that so that there would be a record of her and her behavior. But I also had Rx's to pick up. So, since Fuck! was not going to come out and play I left.
About half an hour or so later I received a call from Tara. However, it was a male voice who asked if he was speaking to Salty. I informed him that this was indeed his phone. He proceeded to tell me that he was Officer Whatshisname from the Fog Beach PD. My response was "So says the voice on the phone". He managed to convince me that he was who he said he was and not Fuck!.
So we had a nice little conversation about what does and does not constitute harassment, my concern about a total stranger being in a house that I own the majority of and that still contains the vast majority of my items, items that I have no idea whether they are being pocketed by Mr. Fuck! or destroyed, damaged, being listed on ebay, etc. Mr. Officer seemed to understand my concern but wanted to make it clear to me that I was not to come over to MY house unless specifically asked and that he had listened to my messages and that if those were to continue it could be construed as a crime.
So I asked Mr. Officer if I could ask him a question. Sure, he said. Okay then, if voice mails can be considered harassment and possibly a crime, what about emails? Why yes, he said those as well. Good. Because I have saved in excess of 200 emails from Scarlett that make what I said in 5 messages look pale by comparison. I also informed him that yes, I have come over to MY house a handful of times unannounced but by far the vast majority - 98% or so of the time, have been at her request or command.
I was informed that he was not going to be doing anything more than just writing up a report but if this behaviour (on both ends) continued that either one of us could request a restraining order on the other. Color me gobsmacked.....
And that's where it lies now. Scarlett believes that she really put Salty in his place when all she really accomplished was reducing her share of the settlement even further. Not to mention now being completely on her own.
Still don't know what Fuck! looks like but I have a hunch it's something like a little sniveling 98 pound weakling and coward who sends a whore out to do his talking for him.
Told you I was going to start having some fun with this!
Wednesday, December 20, 2017
Fog Beach Floozie
floozie
floo·zy also floo·zie (flo͞o′zē)
n. pl. floo·zies Slang
A woman who is regarded as tawdry or sexually promiscuous. A vulgar promiscuous woman who flouts propriety.
Noun: floozie - a prostitute who attracts customers by walking the streets
Thesaurus:
hustler, slattern, street girl, streetwalker, floozy, hooker
bawd, cocotte, cyprian, fancy woman, harlot, lady of pleasure, prostitute, sporting lady, tart, whore, woman of the street, working girl - a woman who engages in sexual intercourse for money, hussy, jade, slut, tramp, wanton, wench.
I like to define my terms so everyone knows what I'm talking about. The above definition, complete with synonyms, pretty much describes the person that I have spent the last 30 years (and counting) of my life with. I am astounded that I was not the victim of some STD but grateful nevertheless.
I recently came into possession of additional information concerning Scarlett and her proclivity for promiscuity. This woman has a serious, serious problem. I don't think it too far from the truth to say that if it walks, if it breathes, if it has a male sex organ, Scarlett is most definitely interested. Color, creed, religion, national origin, marital status - none of that is any concern seemingly.
From the back seat of a car during the interlude between a wedding and a reception (not hers), numerous first "date" romps in strange bedrooms with men she barely knew, best friends of others she knew, total strangers , to next door neighbors I doubt if there is any situation that Scarlett has not "done it" in or tried to figure out a way to do it and who with.
I cannot be out of this sham, scam and joke of a marriage fast enough. Though not at any cost. Rather, I am even more adamant in my goal of seeing to it that she walks with as little as legally permissible. No doubt whatever it is that she feels she was cheated out of (which would be an ironic thought and choice of words for her), she can easily walk the streets and turn a few tricks to make it up.
I recall her many times referring to someone she doesn't even know as a Gold Digging Whore. Truer words were never spoken. About Scarlett.
Do I care or give a damn anymore what Scarlett does or thinks? Here's a handy gauge expressly designed to measure how much of a fuck one gives.
Stay Salty my friends!
Monday, December 18, 2017
Frequent Flyers
Been a little quiet since Friday but Scarlett has this way of just not leaving well enough alone.
Saturday I was the lucky recipient of yet one more desperate try/plea to get me to reconsider some sort of reconciliation. Given all that she has done and said I think it's fair to say that what she's asking is not really a request that I reconsider but rather that I erase from memory everything she has seen fit to do these past 19 months.
For the life of me I can't figure out why, even in her distorted mind, she would think that would have a snowball's chance in hell of happening. My best guess is that it has to do with $$$ that I know she is getting tighter and tighter on. Unfortunately for her I am long past the point of giving a tinker's damn. She made a lot of very bad and short sighted monetary decisions that are now all coming home to roost. And Salty has removed his safety net so she has nowhere to fall but flat on her face or her ass.
And her dating decisions of late have been equally disastrous. Not sure where Pecker stands on her list of priorities at the moment because she is now investigating bachelor #3.
The reference to the old Dating Game show is not accidental. Bachelor #3 hails from an area approximately 3 hours driving from Tara. Texting has been the mode of communication I am led to believe up until today. Arnie, as I will call him (mind if I call you Arnie, Arnie? You can call me relieved), has already professed his love for Scarlett sight unseen. And he came to Tara today for a morning date.
There is something really odd about someone who claims to "love you" before they have even seen you (though I grant that the blind can and do fall in love) and claim a willingness to follow you wherever you go. Scarlett's plan to move 3,000 miles away was apparently a topic of conversation which didn't seem to faze Arnie one bit.
Stalker comes to mind. As does unbalanced. Odd. Psychotic.
Anyway, having some idea now of what Scarlett likes to do on first dates I wondered what she could possibly do today. Her trip to the ER last week has, to use a baseball term, put her on the "bench" for at least 6 weeks. Now what? Movies? Lunch? Dinner? Walks? Hardly what someone with the sex drive of a 17 year old boy (her words not mine) really wants to do or finds enjoyable.
Perhaps this is something that shouldn't be made light of but the other thing I discovered is that while Scarlett believes that God is probably not too pleased with her behavior of late, her attitude is that He understands. And if He doesn't, well that's just too bad for Him because she's going to continue to do it anyway. God can either like it or lump it.
Not sure which sect of Christianity that belief arises from.
But, if she intends on following through with this game plan, for her sake I can only hope that the hospital has a Frequent F**ker plan she can enroll in.
Saturday I was the lucky recipient of yet one more desperate try/plea to get me to reconsider some sort of reconciliation. Given all that she has done and said I think it's fair to say that what she's asking is not really a request that I reconsider but rather that I erase from memory everything she has seen fit to do these past 19 months.
For the life of me I can't figure out why, even in her distorted mind, she would think that would have a snowball's chance in hell of happening. My best guess is that it has to do with $$$ that I know she is getting tighter and tighter on. Unfortunately for her I am long past the point of giving a tinker's damn. She made a lot of very bad and short sighted monetary decisions that are now all coming home to roost. And Salty has removed his safety net so she has nowhere to fall but flat on her face or her ass.
And her dating decisions of late have been equally disastrous. Not sure where Pecker stands on her list of priorities at the moment because she is now investigating bachelor #3.
The reference to the old Dating Game show is not accidental. Bachelor #3 hails from an area approximately 3 hours driving from Tara. Texting has been the mode of communication I am led to believe up until today. Arnie, as I will call him (mind if I call you Arnie, Arnie? You can call me relieved), has already professed his love for Scarlett sight unseen. And he came to Tara today for a morning date.
There is something really odd about someone who claims to "love you" before they have even seen you (though I grant that the blind can and do fall in love) and claim a willingness to follow you wherever you go. Scarlett's plan to move 3,000 miles away was apparently a topic of conversation which didn't seem to faze Arnie one bit.
Stalker comes to mind. As does unbalanced. Odd. Psychotic.
Anyway, having some idea now of what Scarlett likes to do on first dates I wondered what she could possibly do today. Her trip to the ER last week has, to use a baseball term, put her on the "bench" for at least 6 weeks. Now what? Movies? Lunch? Dinner? Walks? Hardly what someone with the sex drive of a 17 year old boy (her words not mine) really wants to do or finds enjoyable.
Perhaps this is something that shouldn't be made light of but the other thing I discovered is that while Scarlett believes that God is probably not too pleased with her behavior of late, her attitude is that He understands. And if He doesn't, well that's just too bad for Him because she's going to continue to do it anyway. God can either like it or lump it.
Not sure which sect of Christianity that belief arises from.
But, if she intends on following through with this game plan, for her sake I can only hope that the hospital has a Frequent F**ker plan she can enroll in.
Sunday, December 17, 2017
Quote
"Trials are medicines which our gracious and wise Physician prescribes because we need them; and he proportions the frequency and weight of them to what the case requires. Let us trust His skill and thank Him for his prescription."
- Isaac Newton
- Isaac Newton
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