The “Bad Husband” Chronicles

Just another day for you and me in Paradise

Posts Tagged ‘Divorce’

Let love speak up itself

Posted by mozziestarlet on June 12, 2013

I’ve been spending a lot of time lately perusing the posts of fellow bloggers from all walks of life and all corners of the world. It amazes me how so many of us struggle with the same questions each and every day in our relationships. ‘Does he still love me? Can I ever trust him again? Will our relationship survive? What did I do for him to be unfaithful to me?’ Reading through the pages, it’s like listening to a record skip and re-play the same chorus over and over again. These days, it’s a song to which we all seem to know the lyrics by heart. Fall in love, endure subsequent betrayal and rejection, glue ourselves back together, and ultimately spend the next few years trying to figure out what the hell happened and why. What I wonder though is do we really not know the answers to these questions or is it that we’re searching for understanding in a sea of others drowning in the same murky water? Personally, I think it’s a little bit of both.

I’m certainly no expert on matters of the heart. I’m 40, with two failed marriages and a closet full of battle scars. Sure, I’ve learned a lot from my experiences. But, most of the time, I find myself looking back at my relationships and wondering what in the world I must have been thinking in the first place. How did I fail to see the signs which are so obvious to me in retrospect? How did I believe this person was right for me? Was I really that deaf, dumb and blind?

In short, yes.

The truth of the matter is that we all are. Whoever can be credited with the proverb ‘Love is blind’ is undoubtedly the most intelligent and insightful person who ever existed. The tricky thing about love is that it’s a bit of a parasite. Bear with me on this as I attempt to explain myself. When you fall for someone, that inescapable and intoxicating feeling – that flow of love adrenaline – spreads and envelops you at lightning speed. The bliss of discovery and courtship takes you to what feels like an alternate reality. The sky is bluer, the air is crisper, the world is…good. Within weeks or even days, your mind and body is hooked on the constancy of these emotions. Try as you may, you couldn’t stop it even if you wanted.

And it’s wonderful. It’s just about this most amazing feeling any human being can experience. So, it’s no wonder we embrace it the way that we do. We’ve lived in the dark for most of our lives and now find ourselves frolicking in sun-kissed bewilderment. It’s ultimately that intoxication which makes us unable to see anything short of perfection in the other person. We embrace the dream because it’s essential to our very survival. And that’s okay…as long as we accept it for what it is. No one and no relationship is ever perfect.

It is typically years later, once the infatuation has subsided and the normalcy of life prevails, that we find ourselves wondering how things could have possibly gone wrong when they were once so right. What happened to us? How could this person be capable of betraying us when this isn’t who they are?

Well, because it IS who they are. We just failed to see it. This realization doesn’t make us a bad person. Foolish? Sure. Stupid? Often. Blind? Always.

There’s no escaping the reality that love is always seen through rose-colored glasses. That’s what makes it such a beautiful thing. Enjoy it. Embrace it, by all means. It’s what makes life worth living. But be mindful that no relationship is ever perfect. No person is infallible, despite how much we once believed them to be.

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“Life is a train of moods like a string of beads, and, as we pass through them, they prove to be many-colored lenses which paint the world their own hue, and each shows only what lies in its focus.

 – Ralph Waldo Emerson

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I can have both

Posted by mozziestarlet on June 10, 2013

Several weeks ago, I stumbled across a question posted on a social media website which asked, “When you look back on your life, does it make you feel happy or sad?” At first, my initial reaction was to laugh at what seemed like such a childish and foolish question to ask a grown adult. I mean, of course, I feel happy about what I’ve overcome in my life. I’ve been through hell and have come out the other side. Why shouldn’t I feel happy about that?  I really don’t know why this question lingered in the back of my mind the way it did, but it stuck. As much as my mind wanted to wholeheartedly shout a resounding ‘Yes!’ to this question, my subconscious inclination for self-analysis kicked into overdrive.  No matter how much I tried to discount the way I really felt, I couldn’t escape it. The truth was that when I looked back on my life, I felt anything but happy.  The most difficult part was trying to understand why.

Throughout all my trials and mistakes, I’ve suffered critics who’ve felt it was their duty to point out the path I should have taken, time and time again. I’ve worn the ‘You should’ve known better’ and ‘I told you so’ badge of dishonor like the scarlet letter most of my adult life.  Even though time has taught me that I must forgive myself for the mistakes I’ve made, I still endure the reprimand with regular certainty. For every positive step I take forwards, I’m reminded of the missteps I’ve taken and the havoc I’ve caused. I’m reminded of how much I screwed up, of the burden I placed on those close to me, and how I cannot make those mistakes again.  Like a five-year old child who repeatedly places her hand to a hot stove only to be burned, the same message is recounted: “We’ve heard this before and been down this road with you so many times. We can’t go through this again with you. You must be certain this time.”

Message received, loud and clear. I get it — be certain this time. Sure, it seems simple enough, but the problem with this is that there are no certainties in life. What I’ve discovered in my journey is that at best, life is a random lottery of possible outcomes. As players in the game, we weigh the odds, place our bets, and pray for the most favorable outcome. When we’re the only player to be factored into our game, the odds are greater that we’ll achieve the desired outcome. But when a second player is factored into our life, we raise the stakes and increase the likelihood of failure. Even still, we roll the proverbial dice and pray we don’t get burned. Despite experience, despite the odds, the truth of the matter is that no matter how many times we’ve placed similar bets, there are still no guarantees. There are no absolute certainties.

Despite my trepidation and fear of wearing that scarlet letter of disappointment the rest of my days, I still have to take chances. If I stop placing my bets in the game of life, I’ve stopped being a participant in my own life. I’ve succumbed to my failures and given up. I’ve told myself and my critics that I do not deserve another chance at finding my happy ending.

To my critics, I leave you with this Morrissey quote, “Don’t rake up my mistakes. I know exactly what they are.” Stop tallying my scores and let me live my life. We are all worthy of the search and discovery of our happy ending.

Happily + ever after? Yes, I can have both.

I’m trying to explain to the voice inside I can have both, I can have both. There’s nobody around to say no who’ve brainwashed the small, shy girl inside. She doesn’t know she can have both.

Learning From Mistakes                                  resized_HAPPINESS

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Can lightning strike twice?

Posted by mozziestarlet on April 30, 2013

Through the years of writing this blog, the most frequent question I am asked is “Mozzie, do you think you will ever marry again?” Naturally, I skillfully punt the ball back in the reader’s court by replying, “You’re a devoted reader of this blog. Would you?” As you can imagine, the response is about 70% to 30%, with the 30% consisting of the hopeless romantics who believe in the notion of true love and happy endings to the core of their being. Some of them comprise a lucky few who, despite enduring similar heartbreak and disappointment in their previous relationships, managed to emerge victorious in matters of the heart. They proudly wear this badge, and with vigor and determination, they feel compelled to share their triumph with the often bitter, jaded masses (myself included).

I have to admit that following the immediate aftermath of my divorce, this was the absolute last thing I wanted to hear from anyone. Countless ‘you’ll find the right one someday, so don’t give up’ emails from friends and readers, all convinced that I could, and would, love and eventually marry again. Being a kindhearted person, I always thanked them for their well wishes, but in private, I’d be busy digging my fingernails into the palms of my hands. So often I’d think to myself ‘You people have NO idea. You can’t begin to understand what I’ve been through and how I’ve been hurt. I will never marry again and subject myself to that pain and rejection. As long as I remain single, I am in control of my life. ’ And truthfully, that approach can work given one circumstance: You never fall in love again.

When it comes to relationships, whether you choose to face it or not, they all have an ultimate end in mind. Sure, you may decide like I did that dating in and of itself is the ultimate goal, but sooner or later, you’ll find yourself in a relationship where that paradigm simply doesn’t apply. You subconsciously make future plans that include that person and may even dream about your relationship ten years from now. One morning you will look yourself in the mirror completely perplexed and ask, ‘What is going on? Why am I thinking about marriage with this person? How could this happen?’ Truthfully, I couldn’t begin to answer that except to say that no one’s life is set in stone. With every day and each new experience, life is constantly evolving around us. People move in and out of our lives with seemingly little significance. But sometimes, when we’re least expecting it, someone drifts into our life who is worthy of our love, companionship and devotion.

It can happen. You can encounter a future that you never believed existed. I am discovering mine.

“Yes, life is hard. As you grow older, you’ll learn what true heart-wrenching pain feels like. You’ll realize that majority of the people you once believed in will let you down. You’ll fall in & out of things that you think are love, & it’ll hurt. There will be people out there that want to see you fall down, it might happen. But you’ll get up, fake a smile, & move on. You’ll go from being called a brat to a bitch. You’ll be pressured to do bad things. You’ll keep secrets. You will regret, but forget. You’ll be heartbroken, and break some hearts. You’ll fight with your best friend, & either keep or lose that friendship. Things will get unbearable, & you will spend a lot of time crying. You’ll miss the spirit of your innocence. You will survive though, I promise. You’ll fight on & you will live to see another day. You will find true love where you least expect it, you will be adored by many. Life will move on& you’ll realize that all the pain & confusion brought you closer to happiness.”

–  Julia Kistner

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It’s all relative

Posted by mozziestarlet on April 24, 2013

When I was young, I felt like I would never grow older. I was convinced that the good life was just a few years within reach. I spent hours daydreaming about reaching the magical twenty-one, when I’d be finally be independent and living life to its fullest. I’d be building a great career and most importantly, I’d be free of the shackles of adolescence. I’d finally be…happy.

And honestly, I was happy. I had a young husband, whom I loved immensely. We were building the future I’d always dreamed of and it all felt attainable. My luck had finally turned a corner and I was living the life that I felt I deserved. And then, after five years, that foundation crumbled beneath me. He left me for a new life and with his departure, he took the hope we’d built together, my faith in love and the happiness I’d spent my whole life yearning for. I was shattered, broken. I convinced myself that if the person I loved most in the world could betray me in such a monumental way with seemingly little regard, I really had no chance of finding happiness again. So there I was, staring down the barrel of my thirties like a deer in headlights, heartbroken and hopeless.

I was bothered by approaching thirty, not so much for its numeric significance, but because I felt like I’d just lost everything I’d been building in my twenties. Gone and obliterated in what felt like a massive overnight explosion. Therapists, family, and friends all had the same message: Put it behind you and move on with your life. Don’t dwell on what you cannot change. Acknowledge it, but move on. And eventually, after years of dealing with the loss, days and nights spent enduring the pain of abandonment and heartache of replacement, I emerged and shaped a new life for myself. I was happy…to a degree.

At thirty-six, I found myself again crossing the uncertain waters of another failed relationship. It was painful, heart-wrenching and deflating. Even though I felt the storm approaching, I still had to navigate the wreckage it ultimately left behind. I had to press the ‘reboot’ button on my life again and start over on my own. And the worst aspect of it was that I wasn’t in my twenties anymore, but now approaching the dreaded 4-0. How was this possible? How did the carefree days of my twenties slip between my fingers and how did I end up with what felt like nothing to show for it?

I spent the last few years of my thirties digging my heels in, refusing to accept the milestone I was approaching. I surmised that if I didn’t think about it, it would go away. But, it didn’t. In fact, the closer I approached it, the more dread and anxiety I endured. Hours spent in self-deprecation, recounting all I’d lost, all the mistakes I should’ve avoided, and how I’d failed to achieve my dreams. I was staring forty in its ugly face, overwhelmed with guilt and disappointment. My biological clock rang out so loudly I was convinced that others could hear it. I had no supportive husband, no children to call my own, and no happy utopia that I felt should’ve been in place by the age of forty. I was a failure.

That dreaded day finally arrived and with it, a surprising self-realization. What if I were still in either of those doomed relationships, feeling trapped, mistreated and unloved? And even worse, what if there were children subjected to that unhappiness? What if they had been treated with the same disregard that I was? Suddenly, I felt an overwhelming sense of relief. Despite my losses, I had managed to emerge a stronger person and ultimately, happier. If happiness is a journey, not simply a destination, I was on the right path…finally. And that, in itself, was an accomplishment to be proud of.

You see, we all ultimately reach a point in our lives when we finally learn to accept ourselves…the good, the bad, and the ugly. Yes, we’ve all made painful mistakes, but they’ve shaped us into the person we were meant to become. So, embrace it. Whether you’re 30, 40 or 60. Look at life as the ultimate game of experience and it is that experience that enriches us.

So yeah, I am 40. And I am okay with that.

“The future is around me. I’m not gonna cry for the things that never occurred. So do not remind me. I’m happy to be as I was in the first place.”
– Morrissey

“You cannot dream yourself into a character; you must hammer and forge yourself one.”
– Henry David Thoreau

“The age of a woman doesn’t mean a thing. The best tunes are played on the oldest fiddles.”

– Ralph Waldo Emerson

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Broken toes mend a broken heart

Posted by mozziestarlet on September 8, 2012

It has always amused me that the more things change, the more they stay the same. I’ve climbed the proverbial corporate ladder for nearly twenty years now and the adventure in hysteria and ultimately, amusement, continues to unfold before me with each new professional adventure. I’ve discovered that there will always be ‘characters’ in each office with their inevitable stereotypes, quirkiness, and overall clueless existence, just sitting there…waiting and needing to be written about. And that, I’m certain, is my calling.

I recently visited Denver for the first time to attend a conference sponsored by my current company. Like most conferences and trade shows, all sorts of personalities attend and put on their best ‘game face’ to meet customers, prospects and network with partners. The networking and nurturing of those partner relationships is what facilitated my attendance at the conference in the first place. You see, I am often the invisible marketing ‘Wiz’ behind the corporate curtain, crafting the brand message, and spoon-feeding the blind B2B masses much like feeding broccoli to a seven year-old. And if the truth be told, I’ve discovered that if you cover anything with enough cheese, someone will ultimately eat it. 

The majority of those in attendance were men in their 40s and 50s, sporting their receding hairlines and stuffing their beer-bellied midriffs into the required, company-branded golf shirt. To put it bluntly, these men are starved for female attention. The overwhelming majority are married with either teenage or college-bound children, and operate their personal lives with the same boring, predictable precision they present in the workplace. Unimaginative, robotic clones who somehow believe that the story of how they caught the prize-winning trout in their local fishing competition will bring women hopelessly to their knees. And it never fails that these men are utterly captivated by the bubbly and otherwise vacant blonde whose actual purpose is to flirt mindlessly with these men and somehow help assuage their own personal shortcomings. This conference was no exception to the rule and that blonde….and come on, we all know who she is at every company….was there in all her flighty magnificence. 

Ironically, despite my ability to see these women for who they actually are rather than what they pretend to be, I am inherently a nice person and get along with nearly everyone. And at my company, this blonde to which I am referring, I will hereby call The Flight Attendant. Bless her sweet soul, she is dripping in Southern accolades as well as physical beauty, and her syrupy accent is all that’s required to lure men under her spell.

After the conference closes on the last afternoon, a handful of co-workers decide to let off some steam and meet up at a local Denver bar and club for some drinks. I receive a call around 5pm in my hotel room from The Flight Attendant: “Mozzie, are you up for it? Come on and go out with us, girl!” Despite my feet aching worse than an Irish clogger, I reluctantly agree to join them. I arrive at the bar around 9pm and the festivities are well underway. The strobe light is flashing, the hip hop is blasting, and The Flight Attendant is on the dance floor, surrounded by an overwhelming group of male admirers, most still dressed to the nines in their company golf shirt. Bless their hearts.

I make my way to the bar, order a double vodka tonic and scan the room for cohorts and partners in crime. I feel the overwhelming sense of relief when I spot a great buddy of mine who is nursing his third or fourth drink, and wave him over to my direction. We chit chat, share some laughs and begin what turns out to be one of the most hilariously funny nights I’ve experienced in quite some time. Before too long, we’re throwing back shots of Grey Goose and cackling at the quasi-American Bandstand maneuvers we’re witnessing on the dance floor. The Flight Attendant is in her element…shaking her money maker and batting her eyelashes in every direction. By the end of the night, I’m fairly certain she will need not only an interpreter from her advanced state of intoxication, but also an escort to find her way back to her hotel room. Naturally, I help her back safely to the hotel, politely say good night and that I will see her the next morning around 8am.

7am arrives and I can’t pretend that it doesn’t kick my nearly 40 year-old ass. But, I shower, get my act together and head over for the last morning of the conference. It’s 8:30am and there’s no sign of The Flight Attendant. I excuse myself, step outside, and call her mobile number and then her hotel room. No answer. Yikes. 

I quickly make my way back to the hotel and begin knocking on her door. I hear groaning on the other side and then the door swings open with the naked Flight Attendant peeking around the corner. She’s hungover. She’s completely overslept and she’s limping. She wails in pain only to look down and discover bruised and bloody toes. “Mozzie, what the hell happened? OMG, my foot kills! I was dancing with some guy last night and he kept stomping on my toes. Help me…I can’t walk!” I do my best to contain the uncontrollable laughter swelling up inside me and tell her to get her act together, clean up and head over to the conference if she wants to keep her job. Tough love…sometimes, we all need it. 

Later that afternoon, we all depart for the airport, most of us on separate flights, and I don’t see The Flight Attendant until the following day at the office. She arrives, late as usual, on crutches with apparently two broken toes from her late night Denver escapade. Upon seeing her, I race for the bathroom or anywhere private because I know I am going to lose it. I laugh for at least half an hour at the sheer comic gold that is unfolding before me. Like I’ve said many times before, often real life is funnier and more entertaining than fiction.

Several days pass and The Flight Attendant receives flowers in the office from the Toe Stomper. She is touched and agrees to a dinner date with him. I can’t help but chuckle at the irony of the entire situation. Later, she sends me a text on my mobile: “Mozzie, you won’t believe how nice of a guy he is! After my divorce, I was convinced there were no nice guys left out there for me. I really like him and think he might be the one.”

So there you have it, my friends. A possible answer to the age-old question: How do you mend a broken heart? Answer: Go dancing and have someone break your toes. You might just fall in love.

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Doing the unstuck

Posted by mozziestarlet on September 7, 2012

Nearly three years to the day have passed since I’ve written on this blog. At least once or twice a month, I’ve contemplated rekindling my love affair with it, reshaping my purpose, further defining my goals and dreams, yet something has stood in my way. Something intangible, something oppressive, and ultimately something stifling the creativity that has always been the most defining aspect of who I am. And even though I’ve spent much time attempting to discern what this ‘something’ is, I still haven’t exactly put my finger on it. So, here I am – rediscovering the familiar sense of surreal comfort that these pages once afforded me during one of the most difficult times of my life. It is that comfort, that unbridled creativity, that burning feeling of self-discovery that I find myself seeking again in my life. At nearly 40, there are still so many questions that remain unanswered.

I realize this entry after three years of absence is abrupt, vague and yet to be defined, but I’m okay with that. I know that like before, the journey I began within these pages took me places that I never dreamed existed within my own personality and understanding. It is that type of journey into self-discovery that has brought me here again. I am certain of that.

What is completely astounding to me is that this blog continues to receive substantial traffic to this day without a letter being added to its pages since the Fall of 2009. Why that is I cannot begin to fully comprehend, but it does evoke certain humility and gratitude on my part to those invisible souls who visit here, either by purposeful intent or simply chance, perhaps seeking to find answers or understanding for the challenges they face in their lives and personal relationships.

So readers, here I am….your ever-shining Mozzie Starlet. And as Morrissey says, “I just want to say I haven’t been away. I’m still right here, where I always was.”

Twinkle Twinkle,

Mozziestarlet

   “All men should strive to learn before they die what they are running from, and to, and why.”  ~ James Thurber

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The year 2012….has it changed anyone here?

Posted by mozziestarlet on September 6, 2012

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Stay tuned.

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Making lemonade out of nothing at all

Posted by mozziestarlet on September 11, 2009

lemons

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

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“To write is to sit in judgment on oneself”

Posted by mozziestarlet on May 26, 2009

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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

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The pursuit of happiness

Posted by mozziestarlet on April 8, 2009

pursuitofhappiness1

 

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.

garden-giverny

“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

“Happiness is not a brilliant climax to years of grim struggle and anxiety. It is a long succession of little decisions simply to be happy in the moment.”

– J. Donald Walters

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Destination unknown

Posted by mozziestarlet on March 13, 2009

bxp66049

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

uncertaintytypes

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And if you must go to work tomorrow…well, if I were you, I wouldn’t bother

Posted by mozziestarlet on March 5, 2009

pink20slip

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.

cza0638l

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One day “goodbye” will be “farewell”

Posted by mozziestarlet on February 26, 2009

After months of anticipation on my part, the day finally arrived last Saturday for the bad husband’s departure.  He packed his things (and his bruised ego) and made his trek back to his home town.  I stopped by my home last Friday night to check on things while he was out, and for the first time in such a long time, I could see the semblance of my home beneath all the clutter and junk that I was forced to live with during our marriage.  The shadow of my once beloved solace lingered beneath the piles of boxes, and I felt giddy by the thought of actually being able to return home again.  And at 11am last Saturday morning, that’s exactly what I did.  I gathered my things from the parental units’ home where I’ve been living these past months, and headed home. 

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

dorothy_toto_tara

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Poll position

Posted by mozziestarlet on February 19, 2009

pole20position3

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

Posted in "Bad Husband" Chronicles, Bad boss, Bad Husband, bad marriage, bad spouse, co-workers, creative writing, Difficult Spouse, Divorce, Dogs, family, friendship, Funny, Humor, Irony, kindness, laughter, Life, Love, Marriage, marriage problems, Morrissey, Office drama, office humor, Pets, poetry, relationships, sarcasm, wives | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments »

An honest mistake?

Posted by mozziestarlet on February 18, 2009

mistakes-funding

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”

5cphoto5cmistakes

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Sorry doesn’t help

Posted by mozziestarlet on February 2, 2009

It’s strange, but I was certain that when the ‘final judgment’ was made in my divorce case, both the husband and I would feel a sense of closure to the entire situation.  I must say that I certainly felt a shift in my attitude when the judge uttered the words, “Well folks, that’s it.  You’re all done.”  It was as if an insurmountable albatross was lifted from around my neck, an incredible weight released from my heart and chest, and I was able to take my first breath in months, if not longer.  I drove home from the courthouse reeling from the entire afternoon, recounting the rational nature by which the judge systematically divided and conquered each unsettled item of our marriage.  I realize that our legal system must take this approach due to the overwhelming number of divorce cases they see every day, but the manner in which your personal matters are resolved is almost laughable.  The judges and mediators trudge through your issues decidedly and quickly, almost as if they have a ‘Divorce checklist’ that they follow and check off as each item is satisfactorily handled.  Even though this approach threw me for a loop at first, ultimately, I was grateful that the case was handled much like the dissolution of a business or partnership, rather than an enormous emotional battle of ‘He said, She said.’  And, when all was said and done, all of that really didn’t matter anyways.
Four days have elapsed since our divorce settlement and the husband continues to call and text as if nothing much has changed.  I’ve urged him to get his affairs in order, begin packing and making arrangements for his departure in a few weeks, but I sense that he is still living in an emotional cloud of denial, regret and sadly, reminiscence as well.  He still tells me how much he misses me and my smiling face to greet him each morning and evening, the way I always took care of him, and how I made everything in his life beautiful.  Most of the time, I respond either in silence or do my best to change the subject.  Despite my feelings or lack thereof towards him now, I do not want to add to his pain or suffering as he is obviously coming to grips with his own demons now.  And on occasion, he will tell me how sorry he is that things came to end how they did and that he wasn’t a better husband.  Ironically, I do sense the sincerity in his apologies now, even though they don’t change an iota of how I feel about him.  I suppose you can chalk it up to the old adage:  ‘It’s a little too late’ for regret now. 

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

 

sorry_we_are_closed_b

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The certainty of uncertainty

Posted by mozziestarlet on January 28, 2009

Despite the months leading up to my current marital precipice, I still feel fairly unprepared for all that is facing me.  The funny thing about life is that oftentimes, despite how much thought or preparation you can take to plan for the future, there is still so much left in the hands of fate.  For someone like me, a careful planner by nature, this element of uncertainty is such a grueling factor to take into account.  Yes, I can make all the plans in the world for how I want my immediate future to unfold, but the truth of the matter is that so much of it isn’t up to me.  Tomorrow, I will face a judge, present ‘my side’ of the story concerning why I am seeking a divorce from the husband, and hope that he/she will be fair and reasonable.  The problem with family and divorce law is that these courts are sadly overflowing with cases.  Day in and day out, these judges hear stories that would boggle the mind and most certainly make any judge swear off the vow of marriage for the rest of their lives.  Isn’t it ironic how your wedding day, one of the most memorable days of your life, can be turned on its head and become something to be battled out in our legal system?  When I think of how nonchalant society has become about marriage today, it does bring to mind Morrissey’s words, “Heavy words so lightly thrown”…a sad commentary, but painfully true.

 

 

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.

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The power of good-bye

Posted by mozziestarlet on January 26, 2009

As the old Southern saying goes, I am dreading this week “with a purple passion.” Thursday is the first court hearing scheduled for the husband and me in our divorce case. Mind you, this has been a long time coming and even though the husband has had months to prepare, you would think that I just sprung this on him in the last few days. As the hearing date approached, the husband’s phone calls, text messages and never-ending email tirades have increased ten-fold. It undoubtedly frustrates him a great deal not having me as his ‘beck and call girl’ to rant, vent and make culinary requests of me 24/7. Additionally, being relinquished of the power to wake me at 3am to “talk” when I have to rise for work at 5:30am is, by all accounts, really getting under his skin. Those of you who have been faithful readers since the blog’s launch in September of last year know that I always believe in trying to keep a positive attitude and a sense of humor amidst life’s trials and tribulations. However, even the brightest of stars can creep beneath a lackluster shadow after months of treading water on dark, turbulent seas. I have tried to keep my eye on the end goal, and continue to do so, but navigating a process like this is just about the most difficult thing in the world.

 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”

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TGIF funnies

Posted by mozziestarlet on January 23, 2009

These are too adorable and funny not to share.  Enjoy!

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The best Moz song in years

Posted by mozziestarlet on January 23, 2009

As many of you know, Morrissey’s new album, ‘Years of Refusual’ is due to be released next month.  Thanks to fellow fans, I was fortunate enough to be able to download the album two months early.  Needless to say, there’s nothing in the world like new Moz material.  For the diehard fan, it’s like having an indescribable drug administered intravenously.

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!

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I don’t mind if you forget me

Posted by mozziestarlet on January 21, 2009

Absence is a funny thing.  In some cases, particularly in love, it can make the heart grow fonder and cause us to swell with giddy feelings of infatuation and anticipation.  Yet, in other instances, it allows us a great deal of clarity once we separate ourselves from a person or situation and can view things with a more objective eye than when we are immersed completely in it.  You can say that staying with the parental units during my divorce proceedings with the husband has ultimately been a positive thing because it has allowed me this level of clarity.  Unfortunately, it has not proven to be so for the husband.  He is still restlessly flopping around in between ‘no-man’s land’ and the land of ‘why are we doing this?’  It amazes me how the reasons are so blatantly clear to me and others, yet so oblivious and obscure to him.  In a way, it’s ironically representative of our marriage.  I have always been on one page while he has clearly been on another, with the pages rarely overlapping.  I suppose that his confusion and misunderstanding with the dissolution of our marriage is no great surprise to me in that regard.  I can’t help but wonder if the light will ever ‘switch on’ and he will one day say, “Oh, NOW I finally get it.”  Either way, it’s not really my concern in the long run.

 

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

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How long does a tear take to dry?

Posted by mozziestarlet on January 13, 2009

Despite being busy and preoccupied with my new job, I spend so much of my time internalizing and contemplating my personal situation.  I think about my bad husband, the heartbreak of divorce, and the task of starting my life over again on my own.  If I am truly honest with myself, I’ve been alone even in my marriages.  I enjoyed several blissful years with Husband #1 before he became a slave to his pocket compass and travelled the road of infidelity.  So, I know the beauty of a truly fruitful relationship, even though the memory has become faded over the years and through the natural progression of time.  Do you ever find yourself wondering why some people ‘get lucky’ and find their ideal match in life while others fall into peril?  I in no way mean to appear flippant as if I do not take any responsibility for my poor decisions, but I can’t help but ponder how there appears to be no rhyme or reason to it.  I’ve known others, like myself, who carefully dated their spouse for years before taking the walk down the plank, only to discover an intricate web of deception once they were married.  Then, on the other hand, there are those who are swept into a whirlwind romance of only a few months before marriage and are STILL happily married many years later.  This just proves to me that there is truly no magic formula involved.

Despite the hardship the husband has caused me over the years, I do care for him and wish for his happiness.  As I’ve mentioned before, he still doesn’t ‘get it’ and grieves over the loss of me and our marriage.  He emails or texts me lamenting messages of how he is miserable without me and general tales of ‘Oh Woe is me’ on a daily basis.  How do you deal with a situation like this?  It seems responding to his repeated cries only makes things worse and perhaps the best route is avoidance.  I am not the one who can ease his pain and comfort him.  That can only be something that he must learn to find within himself.

It reminds me of one of my favorite scenes from the movie ‘The Way We Were.’  Katie, a headstrong and opinionated gal, has lost her true love, Hubbel, and he moves out to stay with a friend.  He’s gone for only a few hours and she picks up the phone, out of sheer torture and habit, and pleads for him to come home and stay with her until she can fall asleep.  She says, “You see, Hubbel.  You are my best friend and I need to talk to my best friend about someone we both know.  So, will you, Hubbel?  Will you come and see me through tonight?  I promise I won’t touch you or beg you or embarrass you.  So Hubbel, could you come over right away?  Please…please?”  This scene has always touched me, but I truly understand the meaning of it now in my own life.  As Morrissey says, “I’ve seen this happen in other peoples’ lives, but now it’s happening in mine.”

So, how long does a tear take to dry?  I think, for some, it takes an eternity.

 

Below is the movie clip referenced above.  Enjoy.

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Take a bite out of The Big Apple

Posted by mozziestarlet on January 12, 2009

Well, today was the first day of ‘official’ business for me in The Big Apple.  So, I put on my game face this morning as I am here representing my company at a large tradeshow.  I am by far in the minority here on two levels: 1.)  80% of the attendees are male and 2.) .001% are from the South!  Nevertheless, I am managing to hold my own, keep my head up high and shine my hospitable nature to everyone.  In case you’re just tuning in, I am a hardcore supporter of ‘The Golden Rule.’  And no, not the one that says, “he who has the gold makes the rules,” but rather, “Always treat others how you want to be treated.”  Trust me folks, you can never go wrong with this approach.  Like frowning, it takes much more energy to be negative or rude to someone than to be kind to them.  Both of you feel better in the long run and you’re much more likely to make a lasting impression on someone by practicing this approach.  If you don’t believe me, give it a try.  It will put an immediate pep in your step, pinky swear.

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

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Bright lights, Big city

Posted by mozziestarlet on January 12, 2009

Well friends, this Southern Belle is currently in New York City on her first business trip with the new rockstar job.  I’ve been to NY many times before, but for some unknown reason, I am enjoying this trip so much more than usual.  I had a hilarious co-worker with me the past few days who really showed me a good time and unbelievably, is a Morrissey fan as well.  ‘Thanks, Big JC.  I owe you one for that.’  He departed this morning, so now I’m on my own.  It’s so ironic to me that there are so many European tourists here with what I consider to be much more interesting accents than mine, but my Southern accent appears to be the fascination of everyone around.  I’m guessing they must get a lot of foreign travelers here, but maybe not too many from the heart of the South or those who know about the Mason-Dixon line.  Either way, it has been fairly entertaining to the locals to listen to me talk.  Go figure.

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!  😉

asouthernbel

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New York, New York

Posted by mozziestarlet on January 11, 2009

Hi friends,

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   🙂

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