Okay okay, I know the title of this entry is a cheesy, 1980′s music reference, but sometimes a lyric not only nails a situation, but can make you chuckle as well.  And for those of you, sitting in front of your computer monitors and scratching your heads right about now, that reference was to a song by the band Air Supply.  And yes,  they do require crackers prior to listening.

Many of you have written and inquired as to the lapse in my blog entries, and up until now, I really haven’t had a suitable explanation for it.  The truth of the matter is that I  love writing these entries as much as you enjoy reading them.  So, why the months of silence then?  Well, for the past six months, things in my life have sucked…and I mean, royally and equivocally.  Unemployment woes, dodging credit sharks, and dancing the ‘rob Peter to pay Paul’ tango has become a full-time occupation for me.  And to add insult to serious injury, I developed insomnia in the midst of it all.  Talk about the proverbial ‘being kicked while you’re down’!  Being sleep deprived when your stress level is growing by leaps and bounds is the cherry on top of the cake.  Sleep is my haven and my refuge, or at least it was before everything in my life began accelerating downhill, so this really hit below the belt.  During all this uncertainty and and sleep deprivation, I came to realize that I have allowed my dire circumstances to keep me from doing the things that I truly enjoy and make me happy, like writing this blog.  It’s almost as if I internalized things so much that I felt I didn’t deserve to enjoy anything.  Since everything sucks, why not just acquiesce and throw in the towel?  Why bother…right?

I’d be dishonest if I didn’t admit that I fight these thoughts about every other day.  Some days, I really allow myself to wallow in the misery of it until I’m so exhausted that I can’t think about anything anymore.  After months of behaving this way, I began to realize that the only person I’m harming is myself.  Yes, I feel like crap over all the things in my life that I wish were different and better, but what is wallowing in it going to accomplish other than making me feel worse than I already do?  Absolutely nothing.

I’m going through some difficult and heartbreaking changes in my life right now, but I will endure them.  I will come out on the other side, perhaps bruised and battered, but as a survivor.  One day, I hope to be able to look back on these times and say, ‘Wow. I can’t believe I went through what I did and lived to tell about it.’ A loved one recently said to me, “Mozzie, things are awful right now, but you will get through it and be a stronger person because of it.  These difficult struggles build character.” At first, I grimaced at this person’s remarks and thought of Morrissey’s lyrics, “How can anyone possibly say they know how I feel?” But then I took a step back, gave it some thought, and realized what this person was saying to me was right on the money.

I don’t know what the future holds for me, but I have faith in the promise of tomorrow and tomorrow’s tomorrow.  So, I’m cashing in my one-way ticket to Wallowsville and banking my frequent flier points for a destination still unknown.

“When life gives you lemons, squeeze the juice into a squirt gun and squirt it into someone’s eye. It’ll make you feel better.”

-Anonymous

As much as I’d love to be able to take credit for that statement, I hardly can.  Henrik Ibsen, a remarkable 19th century Norwegian poet and playwright, penned that statement even before the turn of the 20th century.  I can remember first reading that when I was about fifteen years-old, and feeling the complete brilliance and truth of it sitting squarely on my shoulders.  You see…for a writer, there couldn’t possibly be any statement more at the heart of the matter.  Not to sound exclusive, but it’s a difficult thing to explain to someone outside of this reality; to someone who hasn’t spent the majority of their life trying to make sense of their existence year after year, through each stroke of their pen.  The funny thing about being a writer is that it’s very much a feast or famine talent.  You may go through periods in your life where the words seem to leap from you faster than you are able to write or type them.  And other times, you lull through months or even longer where you simply cannot find the words, no matter how desperately you need to.

Certainly, I cannot speak for every writer on this planet.  But, in my thirty-six years on this earth, this is exactly how it has been and continues to be for me.  I’ve often found myself wondering why this is…why are there times and periods in my life where I cannot stop writing and others when the pen sits frozen in my hand?  Is it a type of possession that temporarily takes hold of you until you’ve said all you feel you can say on the subject?  Or, is it a God-given gift that like any type of talent should be nurtured and fertilized each and every day in order for it to continue to grow and flourish? 

I really couldn’t say one way or the other, and I hardly have a definitive answer on the subject.  However, there is one thing that I know for certain; one thing that I hold dear and true.  Henrik Ibsen was right.  “To write is to sit in judgment on oneself.”  And perhaps, it is this self-scrutiny, and this personal dissection, that makes our writing ebb and flow.  At times, this self-reflection is a necessary evil for our own understanding and personal growth.  And at other times, the cruelty of sitting beneath a microscope of self-analysis is simply more than a person can withstand. 

I don’t think the admission of this duality makes me less of a writer, really.  I think it’s what makes me a human being.

“If I’m trying to sleep, the ideas won’t stop. If I’m trying to write, there appears a barren nothingness.”
~ Carrie Latet

“Writing is utter solitude, the descent into the cold abyss of oneself.”
~ Franz Kafka

“You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you.”
~ Ray Bradbury

Okay, okay.  So, I’m not immune to peer pressure either.  Given that it’s been nearly a month since my last entry and many of you have written inquiring as to my status as ‘alive or dead,’ I figured it is only the polite thing to do to post an updated entry.  Truth be known, I haven’t felt terribly inspired or creative in the past few weeks, and keeping my head above water has been my prime directive.  Yes, I am still looking for a job with little success, but, as you all know from reading my words, I always believe in holding on to hope.  I’ve found that as grim as things may appear in your situation, things are always worse for others.  Though I take no comfort in the suffering of others, this notion often keeps my toes warm at night.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the ideal of ‘happiness’ and all that it entails.  And yes, I refer to it as an ‘ideal’ because I honestly think this description encapsulates the esoteric nature of it.  In my life, I’ve found that happiness isn’t really a state of being, but rather the moments by which we judge our lives.  I mean, how often has someone asked you, “Are you happy?” and you think to yourself, ‘Well, I suppose I am…at least at this moment in time.’  Do you ever wonder why we often think this way and why it is so difficult to reply with a resounding, ‘YES?!’  After giving it considerable thought, I think it has something to do with difficult times and worries overshadowing the positive things in our lives.  When we’re burdened, we often feel like the world is ultimately against us and nothing ever seems to work out as we hoped.  I can say this because I am guilty of this mentality perhaps more than anyone else.

The point of my rambling here is that happiness is something we must pursue.  It does not exist in a vacuum or by chance.  It’s built through our relationships, our kindness shown to others, and our ability to love and give of ourselves.  This is the seed of happiness.  And if given enough care and sunlight, it can grow into a garden of possibilities.

“We tend to forget that happiness doesn’t come as a result of getting something we don’t have, but rather of recognizing and appreciating what we do have.”

- Frederick Koening

- J. Donald Walters

A week has elapsed since I lost my job.  Truly, it took nearly three days just for the shock to dissipate and the full irony of the situation to settle into my subconscious.  I mean, really…what are the odds of being laid off as many times as I have and now in the worst of economic times?  Surely, they must rival the lottery by now.  To be completely honest, yes, losing my job gutted me.  But, it has happened to me so many times now I can hardly be shocked when I hear ‘the speech’ again and again.  I placed first in the national ‘I’ve been laid off’ competition, reciting the speech verbatim in my sleep, standing on one toe, and washing my hair simultaneously.

I really have no idea what I will do now except keep trudging along as I always have in this situation.  I’ll keep networking, sending out hundreds of emails in the hope that they don’t land in someone’s ‘spam’ folder, and maybe, hopefully, something will come my way before I starve to death.  Isn’t it a sad commentary on the state of the world today when a college degree, fifteen years’ experience, and handfuls of personal testimonies to your abilities can’t even land you secure and steady employment? If this is happening to me and millions of other capable professionals, what hope do today’s graduates have when they walk off that stage, degree in hand, hoping to land the job they’ve been preparing for?

One of the most ironic things I’ve found about the corporate arena is that the crummier a person you actually are, the higher up the ladder you seem to climb.  I know you may shake your head in disbelief at this, but I can assure you, it’s so entirely true.  As I’ve progressed through the rungs, one painful step at a time, the more corrupt and dishonest people seem to be.  Why is this?  Does it take this type of person to be able to keep the wheels of capitalism spinning?  Do you have to be a self-centered loser to do well professionally?  Perhaps that is the root of my problem.  You see, I am neither of these things and couldn’t be even if I gave it a hero’s effort.  As sarcastic as I appear, I am a painfully nice girl and actually do care about others.  I realize that into every life a little a-hole must fall, but wouldn’t it be grand if there were a place where people actually treated one another as they wished to be treated?  What an absolute utopia that place would be.

And if I found that place some day, that place of genuine goodness and sincerity where being a good person meant that a good life would befall you, well…who knows. 

“I think I need a vacation -

More than a day or two,

or even a week,

but truly, a vacation.

A time to reflect on

the promises of tomorrow

and shelve away past regrets

and present sacrifices;

If only I could find a place of peace

(if such a place exists)

I would pack my bags

and leave nothing behind,

not even a forwarding address.”

- Mozziestar, 1999

Yesterday at 10am, I lost my rockstar job.  The job I was so proud of, the job that was going to help me finally get my life in order, the job I felt would secure my future career, was gone in the blink of an eye, without warning, reason, or explanation.  I spent the entire afternoon at home yesterday, in a state of utter shock and disbelief, fighting back not only tears but the feeling of complete rejection that enveloped me.  Why did this happen?  What did I possibly do to deserve this at a point in my life when I’m facing the future on my own?  Am I the butt of some cruel joke that a power greater than myself has masterminded, and if so, why me?  I wish I could understand, but I don’t.  The Good Book says that difficult times and trials serve to build personal character, but haven’t I been through enough? 

What wounds me most is the way that I was treated yesterday.  I was baited into HR’s office by my supervisor to “sign a document,” and backed into a steel trap without any hope of escape.  I was told they appreciated my work at the company thus far, but they’ve decided not to continue my employment.  After I struggled to pick my jaw off the floor, I proceeded to ask why and got little to no valid explanation for my termination.  The irony of it is that two days ago I received a positive appraisal on my 60-day evaluation with my supervisor.  The whole situation makes no sense, and quite frankly, stinks of something dishonest.  If budget cuts and the economy are such a strain that my job can be deemed ‘superfluous,’ then by all means, tell me that.  Don’t shuffle me out the door, with my personal belongings in hand, and make me feel as if I did something to deserve being treated like a second class citizen, or even worse, a criminal.  I suppose honesty and integrity are dead on the vine along with chivalry and fidelity.  It does seem that the harder I work at my job, the kinder I am to accommodate the needs of others and go beyond the call of duty, the more consistently I get shafted.  It breaks my spirit and makes it difficult to believe in the general decency of mankind.  I live my life by the Golden Rule:  Always treat others how you would want to be treated.  The inherent problem here is that in the corporate arena, no one else subscribes to this antiquated ideal.  It’s dog-eat-dog and every man for himself…climb the ladder and it doesn’t matter who you have to step on to get to the top.  He who has all the gold wins, right?  BARF.

So, what will I do now?  I suppose I will do what I’ve become so good at doing.  I’ll pick myself up by my weathered boot straps, dust myself off, and start again.  The most honest and simple thing about me is that I just want to be somewhere that I will be treated with dignity, honor, respect and appreciation for my talent and work ethic.  That’s it, in a nutshell.   And for whatever reason, that is such a difficult nut to crack.

When I arrived, there was an eerie silence in the house…a thickness that you could almost feel hanging in the air.  I gazed around and was overcome with a range of emotions.  At first, I felt such relief and excitement at the realization that I was actually going to be able to be home again; the home I worked so diligently to have and maintain all these years.  As I assessed the surroundings, I felt a horrible sinking feeling creeping up from the pit of my stomach and felt tears well up in my eyes.  Even though I had waited for this moment for months, the realization of finality swept over me like a tidal wave.  I cried for about an hour, realizing later that this was and is simply part of the process of grief, acceptance, and ultimately, recovery.  Despite how nonchalant my tone may appear at times throughout the blog, don’t let it fool you.  Divorce is a horribly gutting experience and one that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.  And if you’re like me, prone to wear your heart on your sleeve, the experience affects you even more so than the ‘Average Joe’ who may think of divorce as an ‘easy’ solution to a seemingly insurmountable problem.  Solution?  Sometimes.  Easy?  Not hardly.

So, for the past four days and with the unbelievable help and support of my family, I’ve moved back not just into my house, but my home.  As the old proverb says, “Home is where the heart is.”  I couldn’t agree more.

“Always be careful when you abuse the one you love
the hour or the day no one can tell
but one day ‘goodbye’ will be ‘farewell’…”

 - Morrissey

A classic email between me and my younger brother, who works in IT support.  Enjoy and happy weekend to all!

From: Mozziestar
Sent: Friday, February 20, 2009
To: Her ‘Wondertwin’ younger brother
Subject: Hey bro!

What up, shottie pimp?

From: Her ‘Wondertwin’ younger brother
Sent: Friday, February 20, 2009
To: Mozziestar
Subject: RE: Hey bro!

Just working.

So, this lady sent her laptop in and said it “stopped working on its own.” I turned it on and nearly puked it smelled so badly once it got hot and the fan cut on. Turns out, her little dog puked on it while she had it in her lap and she didn’t want to get in trouble. 

*sigh*  

From: Mozziestar
Sent: Friday, February 20, 2009 2:29 PM
To: Her ‘Wondertwin’ younger brother
Subject: RE: Hey bro!

HILARIOUS!!!!  Did she actually admit to it or did you recognize the smell from memories of our family dog?

That is so funny!!   *ROFL*

From: Her ‘Wondertwin’ younger brother
Sent: Friday, February 20, 2009
To: Mozziestar
Subject: RE: Hey bro!

Oh no…I grilled her and told her that it smelled like DEATH. She started to get upset and told me what happened. I was like, “WHAT?!! THAT’S SO NASTY! You could’ve TOLD ME!” 

People are just…SO unbelievable sometimes!

*sigh* x 2

Okay readers, here’s your chance to have your say in the future of the ‘Bad Husband’ Chronicles blog.  So, please vote in the poll and let me know what you’re thinking.  Should I stay or should I go now?  Don’t fret, I’m fairly thick-skinned and can handle rejection. *boo hoo*

Feel free to leave any comments, suggestions or ideas on the direction you’d like (or not) to see the blog take in the future.  Thank you for your feedback, and as always, your faithful readership.

Keep shining,

Mozziestar

View This Poll

Do you ever find yourself looking back at a situation or relationship and asking, “How did I ever fall for that?”  Lord knows, if I had a dime for every time I’ve thought this way, I’d be living off my millions on a tropical oasis by now.  The worst part about it is the realization that you’ve allowed yourself to be ‘snookered’ once again by someone close to you.  You bought into the ideal that they would always be there for you, always be helpful and supportive, and most of all, that they would always love you.  It seemed such an easy thing to hear and accept at the time, but later you realize that this is a much more difficult task for some and not others.

I’ve said it so many times before:  ’Love’ is a verb, not an adjective.  Love is represented in our daily actions, however small and insignificant they may appear at the time.  Loving someone is knowing how to be a partner in every aspect of the word, not just when it’s convenient or easy.  It’s being the missing puzzle piece to another person’s soul and existence.  Through truly loving another person, we are not only fulfilled but provide fulfillment as well.  At its best, love is entirely a two-way street.  Given this, why is this ideal such a diminishing notion in today’s world?  Have people become so self-absorbed that they’ve lost that loving feeling?

Perhaps I’m the wrong person to consult on matters of the heart, given my poor track record.  Yes, I’ve made two terrible mistakes in the span of my adult life where love and marriage were concerned, and quite frankly, I have become jaded by the ideal of ‘true love.’  Does it still exist?  Can someone actually say what they mean and mean what they say…forever?  I really don’t know anymore, but I’d certainly like to think so.  Without that possibility, where is joy to be found?

I suppose I am not only seeking closure and answers to my questionable mistakes, but I’m also hoping that true love can and does still exist out there.  I want to believe in it, but through the process of ’raking up my mistakes,’ it is a terribly difficult dream to hold on to.

“Honestly” by Annie Lennox

“The beauty that you gave
Has turned upon itself
And all the things you said
Evaporated
Evaporated …
Was I blind
Deaf and dumb
To the words slipped from your tongue?

Honestly … honestly … honestly
Alone in my bed
The things that you said
Go round in my head … still
It seems to be true
That nothin’ I do
Can influence you …

I tried and tried again
(Don’t you know I tried and tried again
to make you listen to me
But everything I said it always seemed to go right through you)
To make you notice me
(I turned myself into a person that I didn’t like
But please believe me when I say I know it wasn’t right)
But talking to myself
(I never thought that things would
get to be so complicated
I never thought that you and me would end up o frustrated)
Won’t catch you attention I see …
(You’d think that something had to come from all those good intentions
But in the end I needed something more than intervention)

Was I mad?
Was I mad?
Foolish me
Foolish me
To succumb so easily
To succumb
Easily
So easily
So easily

Honestly… honestly… honestly…
(Alone in my bed
The things that you said
Go round in my head … still
It seems to be true
That nothin’ I do
Can influence you… still)

Fools like me get so easily taken
And fools like me can be so mistaken

Honestly… Honestly… Honestly

The promise that you gave
(Don’t you know the promise that you
gave just turned it’s back upon me
I stopped believing but you couldn’t take the whole thing from me)
Has turned it’s back
(I never thought I’d have to pay the price to set you free)
And all you represented
Was just my projection you see…
(You know I never thought I’d ever
live a day without you
And that’s the reason why
it makes me sad to think about you
and you know I never thought
I’d make it if you wasn’t there
And now I’m tryin’ to eject myself
from this despair)

People come
People go…
Never say I “told you so”
Honestly

Everything I know you said
Goin’ round inside my head

Never thought I’d see the day
Always got a price to pay

Nothin’ that I ever do
Ever seems to get to you”

The simple act of his leaving has been a major hassle for me.  I’ve been the one scheduling his moving arrangements, giving him money for the trip home, and reminding him of all the things I know he hasn’t bothered to think about.  Now his latest predicament is that he “just can’t get everything loaded and ready to move until Saturday,“ and given that he’s ordered to be out by Friday, he’ll “have to sleep in his car on Friday night.”  Well, boo hoo.  I must tell you that the ex-husband’s mastery of the art of playing ‘the patient’ should earn him an Academy Award.  When I use the description ‘the patient,’ I mean to say that he always insists on being the one who requires constant help and support from the wiser and more knowledgeable, ‘doctor.’  He’s always the weaker party; the patient that must have his hand held through every trial he faces.  Truly, it’s not only nauseating, but ridiculous.  To think that this man has made it nearly 47 years playing this act astounds me.  Will he ever face his responsibilities and handle things himself or will he simply find another ‘doctor’ to treat his unfortunate shortcomings?

Ugh.  Who knows and frankly, who cares?  I certainly don’t.  The only dose I’m willing to give my ex-husband, the eternal patient,  is a large shot of reality.  So, ex-husband…suit up, stick your arm out, and get ready to be stuck.  This doc is through making house calls.

As readers of the blog, you are all aware that I typically have the most bizarre and vivid dreams during the few hours of actual sleep I enjoy each night.  Usually, I awake to a sheet storm of twisted blankets, misplaced pillows and the ever-creeping comforter at the   foot of the bed.  I’m often amused by the seemingly random nature of my dreams and their possible meanings, so I consult my Dream Dictonary Doctors at www.dreammoods.com for further clarification and interpretation.  Last night, I had another doozie of a dream, where the now EX-husband was pushing and shoving me, mumbling and stumbling not-so-nice words in my general direction.   Given that he is down to his final week of living in my home before he’s given the boot once and for all, I suppose I’m harboring a lot of feelings of uncertainty and general anxiety about it.  Will he leave quietly and peacefully or will he pull his usual ‘I’m the victim’ dance and try and harass me as much as possible before his time runs out?  Given my experience with him over the past seven years, I think the latter is most likely.

So, what does all this pushing and shoving signify, oh great and powerful dream wizards?  Hmm, let’s see…

“Push”
To dream that you are pushing something, symbolizes energy, effort, encouragement and a new drive to succeed in life. Consider also how you are someone in your life may be a ‘pushover.’

To dream that you are pushed or being pushed, signifies that you are being pressure or feel coerced into doing something. Alternatively, it implies your need for perfection. You may be finding that you do not have enough time to complete a task.

Naturally, after reading this, I reflect on what the Dream Dictionary Doctors might say in response to my latest doozie:

“Dear troubled, yet ever faithful, Mozzie,

Thank you once AGAIN for consulting The Dream Dictionary for further clarification of your latest slumber-ific experience.  Upon first analysis, we were hoping that the person being shoved in your dream would be your ridiculuous excuse of an ex-husband and not yourself.  When are you going to stand firm and realize that you have no reasonable excuse for feeling worthy of being mistreated?  Until you come to this realization, there is little we can do to assist you further.  We appreciate your CONTINUED visits to our website, but for heaven’s sake…get a clue, will ya?  And as always, we keep an immediate refferral on file on your behalf to the nearest mental health facility.  Best wishes for your new life’s adventure, The Dream Dictionary Doctors.”

*SIGH*

So, what got me thinking along these lines today? Well, I was surfing Facebook this morning and stumbled upon ex-husband #1′s profile. Granted, it has been eight years since our divorce and we have both gone on to live our separate lives. I found myself browsing his photos, many of him and his new wife traveling the world’s finest cities, and I started to reflect on the life we once shared. He obviously is happy now and found whatever it was that he was searching for and felt he lacked during our marriage. I thought about how much I tried and how many sacrifices I made to be a wonderful wife to him through those years. Why wasn’t it enough to sustain his love and commitment? Is it possible for one person to seem right for you, but for you to be the wrong choice for them? It’s matters like these that make love and marriage such a three dimensional concept. You may love someone, and they may love you back, but there is always that third element of uncertainty looming above you. Will your love sustain the test of time or will it one day be deemed ‘disposable’ by one of the parties involved?

I haven’t begun to find the answers to questions like these, and quite honestly, probably never will to my own satisfaction. I suppose, in one regard, I am happy that he has found contentment in his life. But, being completely human and fallible, I do feel a twinge of resentment. I resent that he gave up on us. I resent that he not only discarded our memories, but went on to replace them with new ones. I realize this is part of life’s natural progression, and that in time, I too will do the same. But at present, past memories, both buried and those at the surface, seem to haunt me with endless regret. Even though I accept my life’s winding road with all its twisted diversions, I do get weary from the travel. Sometimes, I just wish that my path was straight and narrow, with a tangible destination in mind; an end goal to serve some greater purpose. That way, one day I can look back in retrospect and say, “Oh, now I understand why that happened to me.” Until then, I’ll continue on life’s journey and hope that a little understanding will come with each new day.

As Robert Frost so eloquently wrote in 1920:

 “I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I —

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.”

2.  When I was in elementary school, I wanted to be a geneticist.

3.  I first realized I was a writer when I was eight years-old.  I wrote a novelette entitled “Savannah” when I was eleven years-old.

4.  I have a habit of  nicknaming those close to my heart and rarely call them by their ‘real’ names.

5.  I was on a clogging team until I was thirteen years-old.  Look out Michael Flatley!  Inevitably, it was having to dance to country music routines that diminished my interest.  

6.  I have loved dogs all of my life, but didn’t actually own one until I was eighteen years-old.  He was a mutt I named Sambo.

7.  There was only one true thing I wanted from my life growing up:  a family and children of my own.  I’m nearly 36, have been married and divorced twice, and have no children.  My older brother, who vowed a childless life of bachelorhood in high school, is happily married with five little ones.

8.  My pantry is stocked with sugar-coated cereals.  Captain Crunch with Crunchberries is my favorite.

9.  There are no movies in my DVD collection which pre-date 1980.

10.  I carry a Barbie lunch box to work every day.

11.  On the Myers-Briggs personality inventory, I am an INTJ, with the highest percentage in the “I (Introvert)” category.  Out of 100%, I scored 89% as an introvert.  This baffles nearly everyone who knows me.

12.  I have two true loves in my life:  my 11 year-old Cockapoo and Morrissey.  I first heard Morrissey in 1988 and have spent 21 years on his trail.  Both inspire me on a daily basis.

13.  I watch very little TV and usually only tune-in for Nip/Tuck every Tuesday night.  I have no explanation as to why I love this program, given that it represents much of what I detest in life.

14.   My hair has been nearly every color with the exception of black.  I am a natural blonde.

15.  My parents have been happily married for forty years.  In all honesty, I have never been.  My parents decided when we were born to call each other “Mama and Daddy” rather than refer to one another by their first names.  Even though we are all grown adults now, they still call each other this despite whether we are around or not.

16.  I know very little modern music and fluctuate between two channels on XM Radio:  the 80s and classic alternative.

17.  My favorite movie is “Somewhere in Time” (1980).  I’ve watched it hundreds of times, but sob like a girl each and every time.

18.  I detest baked beans, English peas and sweet potatoes.  Even as a baby, Mom couldn’t get me to digest these.

19.  I’m a bit of a clean freak.  I take two showers every day.

20.   I am the nicest person you will ever know with the most sarcastic sense of humor.

21.  I have travelled throughout the United States, but the one place I long to visit the most is somewhere I’ve never been:  England.

22.  I am far from a ‘girly girl,’ but I adore gemstones.  I have a large collection of stones in nearly every color.

23.  I always keep my nails manicured.  I’ve found that despite how lousy you may feel, having your nails done always makes you feel like a lady.

24.  I fall into the less than 10% of people who actually work within their college major.

25.  My favorite alcoholic drink is a Bass Pale Ale.  I’d rather have a cold draft beer more than any other tody.  My staple is milk.  It does the body good.

If there is one thing I can pass on to others from this whole catastrophic experience, it is this:

If there is an area of your life or relationship where you know you are falling short, DO something to change it.  Don’t expect the situation to miraculously improve if you are unwilling to contribute your share to the betterment of the relationship.  If things do not work out favorably or as you hoped, you will have the peace of mind in knowing that you put forth a truly valiant effort.  You did all that you could.  Once you accept this, you can acknowledge the loss, and ultimately, move on with your life.

And one more bit of unsolicited advice:  Don’t say you’re ‘sorry’ once all is said and done.  Sorry’s are a dime and dozen, and as Morrissey says…

“Sorry doesn’t help”

Sorry’s pour out of you
All wide-eyed simple smiles
certain to see you through
like a QC full of fake humility
you say:
“Oh, please forgive…”
you say:
“Oh, live and let live…”
but sorry doesn’t help us
and sorry will not save us
and sorry will not bring my teen years back to me (any time soon)
Forced back, it springs right out
seasoned, you have no doubts
you lied about the lies that you told
which is the full extent of what being you is all about
you say:
“Oh, please forgive…”
you say:
“Oh, live and let live…”
but sorry doesn’t help us
sorry will not save us
sorry will not bring my love into my arms (as far as I know…)
sorry doesn’t help us
sorry will not save us
sorry is just a word you find so easy to say… so you say it anyway
sorry doesn’t help us
sorry won’t protect us
sorry won’t undo all the good gone wrong

You see, those who are close to me frequently remark that one of my biggest flaws is that I can be ‘too nice’ and don’t put my needs first.  They say that I should ‘get tough,’ and if necessary, be mean to the husband to drive the point home that our marriage is over and that he needs to grow up, stop hassling me, and take care of himself for a change.  At first, I thought this seemed like cruel and unusual punishment, so I’ve been nothing short of accommodating to the husband during our separation.  Now, as months have elapsed with me living with my parents and the husband acting like a real jackass, I’ve come to realize that this tougher approach is the only way to handle him.  At first, I did feel sympathy for the husband, knowing that I am the one filing for the divorce and leaving him behind.  But yesterday, when I went home briefly to gather a few personal items, I completely changed my mind. 

The husband was at work and had no idea that I would be stopping by my house, so I got to see firsthand exactly how the husband has been living in my home during our separation.  I flung open the door and was nearly knocked down by the sweltering heat coming from the living room.  I approached the thermometer only to find it set on 80 degrees with the heat blowing full blast throughout the house.  Mind you, it was 65 degrees in Atlanta yesterday and hardly chilly or even cold.  My beautiful home, my once perfect solace, was cluttered with dirty dishes on every table, laundry slung over the furniture and floor, and trash piled up high enough to perform an impressive Olympic high jump.  Not to mention, the stench of dried food and sweaty socks permeated throughout my house, which once smelled of flowers and potpourri.  I noticed new stains on the carpet, undoubtedly from the husband not letting the dog out to potty regularly, and instead allowing him to do his business on the den carpet.  I surveyed the damage and thought to myself, “Is this MY house?  How will I ever get it back the way it was once before?  How could anyone be so thoughtless and utterly disgusting?”  My appalled state of mind lasted for a few minutes before I felt rage boiling inside of me, imagining my slovenly husband sitting on his lazy ass, trashing my house and running up the gas and electric bills with no regard for the person who will actually be stuck paying for them.  And then I thought about how he’s continually pleaded with me through these months not to be thrown out in the street ‘like an old dog’ with nowhere to go.  Well, you know what?  I simply don’t care anymore.  My tenure of playing Mommy to him is finally over and it’s time to reclaim my life.

The way I see it is that the husband is single-handily responsible for sabotaging any remaining feeling I might have had for him.  He’s made his bed and must now lie in it.  Does that make me a ‘bad’ person for thinking this way…cold-hearted, callous?  Well, I hold no degree in family or marital law, but I can hardly imagine any intelligent or rational person seeing the husband for anyone other than EXACTLY who and what he is.

 I’ve read many times that a divorce is very much like experiencing the death of a loved one, and having been through this before, I can definitely attest to that. When husband #1 decided to walk the wide road of infidelity and end our marriage, it was the most painfully heart-wrenching experience of my life. Even though it’s been nearly ten years now, the memory of that loss still haunts my dreams far too frequently than it should. And now, facing yet another loss in the marriage arena, I can only imagine how much Xanax and therapy it will take to put Mozziestar back together again.

When you are going through a divorce, despite whether you desire it or not, you feel almost as if you cannot breathe or think clearly at times. It’s very much like being a passenger on a volatile roller coaster ride, with the rises and falls representative of your personal ability to be strong and endure. Some days, you’re at the top of the coaster, feeling strong and certain in your path and what is facing you ahead. And then other days, you can actually feel the wind knocked out of you as the coaster plummets below, with you holding tightly and squarely to the railings. Occasionally, you’re able to catch your breath when the coaster is gliding between destinations, but you always know that the unexpected is right around the corner and that fear grips you every day until it’s finally over. So, those of you who are inclined to think, “Just kick ‘em out and divorce ‘em! You’ll be better off without that loser!” should think before you speak. It’s always easier to give advice and comment on someone else’s life when you’re watching from a safe distance.

Never assume that things for others are as easy as they appear and always be mindful of another person’s situation and circumstances before you open your mouth to speak or offer unsolicited advice. Chances are, the recipient already knows what you are going to say. They are already aware of what and how they should handle things without you giving them a blow-by-blow debriefing. The best thing you can do as a friend or loved one is to support them and give them time to think, grieve, and sort through all the mental clutter that is trapping them. When all is said and done, I (and countless others) will survive and will learn to stand on my own two feet again, even if it takes training wheels at first. Eventually, the roller coaster will stop and we will all finally be able to step off, catch our breath, acclimatize, and most importantly, take that first step forward.

“The Power of Good-bye” by Madonna

“Your heart is not open, so I must go
The spell has been broken, I loved you so
Freedom comes when you learn to let go
Creation comes when you learn to say no
Walk away…
You were my lesson I had to learn
I was your fortress you had to burn
Pain is a warning that something’s wrong
I pray to God that it won’t be long
Walk away…

There’s nothing left to try
There’s no place left to hide
There’s no greater power than the power of good-bye
Your heart is not open, so I must go
The spell has been broken, I loved you so
You were my lesson I had to learn
I was your fortress…

There’s nothing left to try
There’s no place left to hide
There’s no greater power than the power of good-bye
There’s nothing left to lose
There’s no more heart to bruise
There’s no greater power than the power of good-bye
Learn to say good-bye
I yearn to say good-bye”

Below is the video for my favorite track on the album, “All you need is me.”  And Morrissey, you couldn’t have hit the nail more squarely on the head when you sing, “You bang your head against the wall and say you’re sick of it all – except for me.  All you need is me.”

Enjoy!

Our first hearing is scheduled for the end of this month and the husband pesters me on a daily basis to meet him and discuss the details beforehand because it is in “my best interest” that he knows everything about my current and future financial situation so that “I won’t get stuck paying him alimony.”  Once again, I find this incredibly humorous because he has never taken any remote interest in my or our financial standing, even when we were poverty-stricken and on the verge of losing everything.  Isn’t it coincidentally ironic how he is now so unselfishly concerned for my ultimate well-being and financial security given that he has directly contributed to me being flushed down the proverbial can too many times to count?  In addition to being apprised of my financial standing in order for me not to have to pay him alimony (AS IF), he reminds me during each conversation how much he misses and loves me.  Misses me?  Perhaps.  Loves me?  Not even remotely.  What so many people fail to realize is that love is verb, an action word, and actions always speak louder than words.  Sure, you can easily tell someone that you “love” them, but when push comes to shove, it’s the daily actions that either prove or disprove this.  And even I, the most avid lover of language, recognize the fallacy of this term and have learned to take it with a grain of salt.  Anyone can pledge love and devotion, but it’s the rare gem that can actually walk the talk.

So, what do I want most from my situation with the husband?  Ultimately, I want closure.  I want us both to move on to the next phase of our lives and chalk our marriage up to what it was: a bad judgment call on my part and two people who make absolutely no sense being married to one another.  Yes, there are memories (though distant now) that will always be cherished, but it isn’t until you let go of the old that you can learn to embrace the new.  Sure, I hope that the husband will reflect on our marriage fondly, but what I really want is for him to put the memory and ideal of me and us away and start to focus on his future without me.  In essence, I want him to remove me from his daily thought process and stream of consciousness.  You cannot learn to run before you learn to walk, and the husband hasn’t even begun to take baby steps yet.  Only this time, I will not be there to break his fall.

“Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in.  Forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day and you shall begin it well and serenely.”

- Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882)

“Acceptance of what has happened is the first step to overcoming the consequences of any misfortune.”

- William James (1842-1910)

 “The harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph. What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly; it is dearness only that gives everything its value. I love the man that can smile in trouble; that can gather strength from distress and grow.”

- Thomas Paine (1737-1809)

“I DON’T MIND IF YOU FORGET ME” by Morrissey

I don’t mind,
I don’t mind if you forget me
Having learned my lesson,
I never left an impression on anyone
So now you send me your hardened ‘regards’
when once you’d send me ‘love’
Sincerely I must tell you,
Your mild ‘best wishes’
They make me suspicious
But I don’t mind
I don’t mind if you forget me
Having learned my lesson,
I never left an impression on anyone
The pressure to change, to move on
Was strange and very strong
So this is why I tell you
I really do understand
BYE BYE
I don’t mind if you forget me
no no no no no no no
REJECTION IS ONE THING
BUT REJECTION FROM A FOOL IS CRUEL
REJECTION IS ONE THING
BUT REJECTION FROM A FOOL IS CRUEL
And I don’t mind if you forget me
I don’t mind if your forget me

Of course, being a young woman traveling alone always causes the parental units to shift into code orange on the worry and concern scale.  Even though I’ve been doing this for years now, my sweet yet sheltered Mom is constantly thinking that I’m either going to be abducted by a cab driver or will get lost and not be able to find my way back to my hotel.  Seriously, am I the only one who sees the humor in this?  You would think I am a 12 year-old who got lost from their parents in a store or kidnapped at the bus stop!  Ma, if you are reading…relax.  Nothing is going to happen to me.  And if a sketchy situation presents itself, remember that I am a trained master in all of Mr. Miyagi’s best karate moves from watching ‘The Karate Kid’ so many times.  If danger approaches….HIII-YAAA!!!  That will teach ‘em to mess with Mozziestar! 

As far as the husband goes, he still in clueless land of trying to figure out why we are getting divorced.  Even though I have explained it to him countless times, it’s a bit like talking to a brick wall.  You talk and talk, but nothing gets through.  So, I stopped trying to explain in futility and hope that eventually, down the road, he will realize why our marriage failed.  If not, he will spend the rest of his life wondering what went wrong and how he played the starring role in it.  I do hope for his sake that this isn’t the case for him, but knowing his clueless and eternally blameless nature, I doubt he will ever figure it out.  

So friends, thank you sincerely for your continued support, faithful readership, and thoughtful comments and emails.  It means more to me than I could possibly express in words.  For me, inspiration is a two-way street.  I hope to inspire each of you to live your life to the fullest, but in the process, you inspire me as well.  Stay golden and keep shining. 

Mozziestar

Yesterday, I met a fantastic guy from outside of London who is also here on business.  When I first heard him speak, naturally I asked him if he was from Alabama.  It took a moment for my corny sense of humor to register with him, but once it did, we struck up a terrific conversation.  And yes, I know what your next question is…did I mention that I am a huge Morrissey fan?  WELL, YAH!  He was too cute and said, “Wow, I’ve never met an American Morrissey fan, much less one with your accent!”  I chose to take that as a compliment and hopefully, he didn’t immediately phone home and tell his family what a nutty berry he met in NY.  It certainly wouldn’t be the first time!

What really strikes me about this city is the hustle and bustle that seems to come so easily to everyone here.  Being from the South, I was born and bred on Southern hospitality, waving and saying hello to everyone I pass.  Well, after several of times of doing this out of pure habit, I started to notice all the strange looks I was receiving from my friendly actions.  The people seem stunned, almost put off, that I am speaking to them for no apparent reason other than being friendly.  Do they think I am a crack dealer or just escaped from the local mental institution?  Either way, I am who I am and I firmly believe in always being friendly and hospitable to people I meet.  No doubt, I would never survive living in a city like this, nor would I want to.  It’s just not this gal’s style.

So, I’m enjoying myself and trying to stay below the radar and not attract too much attention to myself.  And to add insult to injury, NONE of the women here look anything like me or my physical features.  I’ve noticed most of them are dark haired and skinned, and a bit weathered around the edges.  No offense ladies, but just say ‘yes’ to proper skin care! 

I am currently in New York and have not had a chance to update the blog in a few days.  I will be back later for today’s entry.

Keep shining,

Mozziestar  

Being pegged quite frequently as the eternal pessimist, naturally asking these sorts of questions usually lands me in a depressive stupor.  So, I choose to take an objective look in retrospect.  Yes, professionally I have done very well for myself in the past decade, despite the whirlwind storms of layoffs and rehires.  I’ve climbed the corporate ladder, one painful step at a time, and finally it seems, have a real opportunity with a dynamic and stable company.  I can only be thankful and grateful for that.  Personally, however, I’ve managed to do a bang-up job at marrying the wrong person (twice) and making a royal mess of things.  As Morrissey says, “It’s my life to wreck my own way.”  

When I look back on my relationships, yes, there were signs and things I did notice before saying ‘I do,’ but I chose to overlook them, even if it was often done on a subconscious level.  I thought that love could conquer all and that if I worked hard enough at the relationships, they would survive and endure.  After years of living this way, I finally owned up to the fact that it takes two to tango.  If you both aren’t equally committed to making one another happy, you will spin your wheels until there simply isn’t any steam left in your little engine.  I certainly have.

So, what now?  Well, I choose to close the chapter of 2008, and for once in my life, look forward to the new chapter ahead:  the chapter of 2009 and new beginnings.  A chapter where I will learn to stand on my own again, let go of the hurt and blame for my own and others’ failures, learn from my mistakes and endeavor not to repeat them, strive to be a better judge of character, and hope to always be a better friend and person.  But, most of all, to learn to forgive and forget.  I truly believe that it isn’t until we let go of the past that we can begin to embrace our future.

Happy New Year, friends.

Keep shining, 

Mozziestar