its only taken 3 years

My marriage was over 3 years ago, but the axe finally comes down officially tomorrow.

3 years of heartache of separation from the kids.

Of bullshit games and an inferior complex from a man who abused me both emotionally and physically.

From a man who attempted to extinguish the fire within me.

I look back at pictures in reflection.  It was a long time ago but doesn’t feel like it was.  It was a different life.  A different world.  One that I miss sometimes and others one that I’m glad is being left behind.

I thought I would always be watching from the rearview mirror… seeing little faces turn big and I wouldn’t be there.

It tugs my heart.  I first heard about my daughter walking from an email sent to someone else.  I wasn’t included in this family.  He ran off to make his own.  With another woman who couldn’t have children of her own.

Imagine finding excel spreadsheets with daycares cross country with your children’s names.  Of threats before work to take your children.  Of a man you gave everything up for reminding you your place in line.


I hate to love money.

“Why is divorce so expensive?”

“Because it’s worth it!”

Court is tomorrow in Martinez.  I am exhausted.  There is little to nothing I can do at this point.  If I go in and contest the terms, I may not even be heard or the divorce may be postponed.  Both of which, I don’t want.

It’s the dissolution.  It’s just one part of the process.  It will work itself out.  I will fight for them in the ways that I can.

The judicial system is frightening.  I’m amazed with the bullshit he’s able to get a hold of.  He hasn’t let me see my children with him in nearly a year.  I feel like such a small fish in a big pond.  But I don’t have time for melancholy.  There’s no crying over spilled milk.  Steps forward, and no looking back.

These few days I have been so busy.  Looking for work.  Writing elsewhere.  Tugging my heart on the ground and cutting myself off to focus.

The fire that was extinguished all those years ago has returned.  I’m stronger.  It can’t hurt me anymore.  Tommorrow I will be free of the last bit of chains left.

The best thing that came of this experience were those babies.  Those babies that I am committed to going full force and diving into this market to make the life for them better.  One day at a time.

The path ahead is free and inviting… but god help me I’m scared/excited.

They never said this was going to be easy…

sail away sail away.. another day


holding on for another weekend



This is where I could be.

A friend of mine invited me to go sailing last weekend and this weekend.

I’ve never been sailing.

It’s on the list of things I’ve always wanted to do but never had the opportunity to.

I count myself fortunate to even have the option of doing something like that.

Given that I was laid off from EA yesterday, I took the day to focus and buckle down on job searching, paperwork, and program refreshing.  Ie: be responsible.

Who am I & what have I done with the old me?

I promise I’m not getting boring.  I guess this is what happens when you get older.

The more you know

We are not allowed to discuss 3 things in my fathers house:



and politics.

Go figure I happen to frequently talk about all 3 on a regular basis.

My dad has strong convictions in his beliefs.  I am always open to a discussion regardless of preference.

I think that it’s not important, but is a healthy exercise to do so.  One must always challenge the mind.  Thinking outside of the box only happens when forced to do so.

Here is what I learned this weekend:

  • life isn’t about what you know, its about trying to find the right balance of patience, humility, confidence and pride to find the strength to say:

I know somethings but I don’t know everything.
I need help finding out what I don’t know so I can learn it.

Knowing isn’t half the battle, it is the battle.

You have to break the comfort of routine in order to discourage negative opportunities.

If you question saying it out loud and are not ready to bear the consequences of it being taken negatively, no matter if it’s positive or constructive, it’s probably best not to say anything at all.

You can never truly give up on anything.

If you can’t laugh at yourself, you’re probably doing it wrong.

True comfort  comes from within. The rest is just imaginary.

Dear psycholady from the UK

Dear psycholady from the UK,

I used to date your boyfriend years ago and we have remained friends.

He used to live in San Diego.

He asked me to go when he left.

For my own personal reasons, I didn’t.

It was hard on both of us when he got on that plane.  He was the best friend I had then.

But it was the best thing.

It was the right thing.

Things happen for a reason.

He wasn’t right for me.

I wasn’t right for him.

We taught eachother things about life.




How we didn’t want a lover to be.  How we could value and abhor sexism.

We both grew up since we were together.  We evolved.

Time passed.

New lovers.

New places lived.

New jobs.

And for awhile back, we were messaging each other quite a bit.  I still have the phone bill from the calls to and from the UK.  We talked so often that I put him on my 5 most called spots in order to save money.  I stayed in a few nights just to talk to him online and on webcam.

I was supposed to visit him next month there in Scotland.  Talks about the passport came back into play.  An ongoing talk 2 years in the making.

You don’t do that shit with people you don’t give a shit about.  There’s no reason for it.

Last I’d heard, he was very despondent due to a failed relationship. He loved this girl dearly.   But he let her go, for reasons I respect and can’t get into here.  For things that were discussed, I told him that I don’t think she deserved him.  He messaged me and we comforted eachother.  It was harmless talking and flirting.  We were two people who served a purpose for one another.

However, I haven’t talked to him in months.

You sent me an email yesterday asking me why I was messaging him recently.

It’s because he and I have been talking for years and I hadn’t heard from my friend in awhile.

He and I have a connection.  We are friends.  I don’t expect a picket fence from him.  It’s not what I want- not from him at least.

As a friend, all I’ve ever wanted was for him to be happy.  I told him- go back to this girl.  Be happy.  Don’t just walk away.  You have to fight for her.  Sometimes you have to give up things in order to get what you want.

I’m hoping that’s what he did.

However if you’re said girl he was pining over, there’s something you should know:

if you truly trust and love someone, perhaps it’s best to mind your own business and leave the situation be.  Did you find something incriminating of me in his inbox or in any of the messages I sent him?  To be frank, if there is anything that you would find, it’s dated.  Dated to times where he told me he was broken up with said girlfriend and he asked for what he received.  Dated to times when said girlfriend didn’t exist.

We’ve mutually talked ill of eachother.

It’s part of our relationship.

Considering you’re dating a sociopath, you should understand that.  It’s a twisted form of devotion.  Most people don’t get it.  And the ones that do have to admit they’re a bit fucked in the head in some ways.  Deviant culture.

If you’re conserned I’m after him though, why would I want to devote my energy and time into someone across the pond anyway?

If you knew anything about me, you would know that I had a couple of long distance relationships and have about given up on the notion of dating someone not local* minus 2 cities in CA which either I frequent or would frequent more often for the right person.

While a trip across the pond to see a friend and catch up sounds fabulous, with or without sex involved, I don’t need to do that.

And to be honest, the sex wasn’t outstanding quite frankly.  The chemistry just wasn’t there.

So the message received to my inbox… which I’m flattered that you investigated enough to find in the first place, was unnecessarry.

I can’t stand whistleblowers.  Specific whistleblowers that are strangers across the pond and not just digital space that think being rude is going to get information for them.

Stay in school lady.

My friend can talk to whimever he wants to.

Be a good woman and let him be.

I don’t want him “that “way.  I just want to make sure he’s alright and hear about his life.  As long as he’s happy, I’m happy.  Even if it’s with some crazy “vindictive” (which he said you would be if/when you ever broke up) broad.  Because that’s what friends are for.  Because that’s what friends do.

“Bros” before hoes.

Deal with it.




This is not the first contact I’ve gotten via this blog about said guy.  There are comments in my moderation queue that were never posted that were just downright nasty.

That said, if I knew he didn’t love this girl dearly, I’d wish they were broken up permanently.  I really don’t like seeing my friend have to deal with that.


First guy I met worth my time in LA.. who lives in SF.

(I have all the luck sometimes)

and I randomly ran into him after my martial arts class in a little artsy/hip hop indie clothing shop by Big Robot.

He was with a gorgeous brunette girl friend of his.

“Oh hey I know you.” I said as I brushed by him on accident.

“Small world. I’m not surprised you shop here.”

He came in town for a baseball game.

“How nerdy is that?”

“Not nerdy at all… I love baseball.”

Gotta love running into hot boys when you look like crap right after a workout. At least I didn’t smell.

But it was nice to see you again oh hot doppleganger, you.

Douchebag of the week: Username Wig lady

I was walking back from S & W with my friend Jimmy and a random stranger stopped me and interrupted my conversation.  This in itself is not that douche-y.  I will admit I’ve done this a few times, albeit rare.

But what she stopped me to ask me was a bit rude for someone that I’d never met in my life…

“Did you dye your hair?”

“Excuse me, I don’t even know you…”

While Jimmy thinks she may have just mistook me for someone else.. I have to say.. regardless of who or who doesn’t know about my hair dying habits, it was rude.  Downright douchebaggery in fact.

Needless to say I’ll be buying some punch and fixing that.

Congrats random dog walker lady on being this weeks douchebag of the week.

December 10th, 2006

The day after.

I was reminded of this in a conversation before work.

December 9th, 2006:

I knew my marriage was over before then.

But never in a million years did I believe I could have married a monster.

Everytime I enter into anything serious, it’s in the back of my mind.

I feel as if I were a toxin.

I bring the best out of people.

I bring out the worst.

The evening before was the most horrific event of my life.

My husband was moving my things upstairs.

Separation full and complete.

As best as we could while still living together at least.

I cried.

I didn’t know what was about to happen though.

He set up my desk in the other room upstairs.  He stood there and looked at me.

We hadn’t had sex in months.

He looked across at me with dead eyes.

I asked “Are you doing this because you really love me and want the best for me.. even if it’s not you?”

Then he kissed me.

I asked him “Why are you doing this? Do you love me ?  Do you love me?”

He pushed me against the wall, pulled down my pants and put himself inside me.

I told him, “No.  I only want to have this with love.   Do you love me? Do you love me?”

He continued.

Put me on the floor and kept going until I put my hands over my face, curled into a ball and cried.

I was reminded of that night this morning.

I could visualize it and relive it.

The sound.

The quiet.

The tears.

I fell apart that night.

I was a doe in headlights.

The person I was supposed to trust with everything.  The man I gave my life to… been vulnerable with… bore children with…

violated me in the worst way possible.

I was an absolute mess back then.

He stopped and went downstairs.

When I asked why he did that, he said “Because I wanted to have sex and figured you did too.  But that was all it was.. I don’t love you…and didn’t want to complicate things”

December 10th, 2006:  The day after.

I’d seen this piercing on one other person online.  It wasn’t common.  I previously had nothing done beyond my ears.

I thought it looked like tears.

I vowed after that night that I would never let anyone make me feel like I did that night.  I wasn’t going to cry anymore.

And that’s why I have my antibrow pierced.

It was a cheers to my new found independence… to the struggles I have been through… to the tears that I’ve cried. I’m stronger now. They’re not going to weigh me down.

It is my visual reminder of where I’ve been.  Of the roads I walked.  Of poor decisions.  Of finally making the right decisions.

Of steps forward.

Of steps back.

Of steps towards a future of opportunities.

Perhaps it wasn’t so bad I was reminded about this this morning.  Because it wasn’t until that day that I remembered how much it was to feel alive.  How I was never going to deal with that shit again.

Perhaps… it’s time to push myself even harder again and remember that day of strength.

chasing stars

He only comes out once a month.  The brightest star graces the sky.  But only for one midnight.  He is dangerous.  Cancerous.

With bright blue eyes and a past.  He walks with heavy steps and tries to hide it.

It’s obvious.  But she doesn’t care.

You are the memory I never want to




It’s midnight a month later.  A month hath passed since that fateful night.  And not a bit has changed.  Yet everything has changed.


A shower.

A proposition.


A statement.

“I don’t want it to be a one night stand.”

“Let’s see what happens and that shall determine the later.”


he said, in words near and unspoken.

“Do you have a long coat?”

“I do.”

“Wear it.  Do you have lingerie?  Wear something nice underneath for when you greet me at the door.”

I rushed to my bathroom.  I scrubbed my shower meticulously.

I ransacked my drawers looking for them:


Fishnet thigh high stockings

the bitty mesh halter brassiere with cherry blossom embroiderments

the sash to wrap around my waistline of the long black peacoat.

I wanted to look of perfection.  Of as much as I could without pushing it.

“I’m outside.”

I wasn’t shivering just because I was cold.





The wind blew across my ass as I raced outside.  The jacket was shorter than I’d remembered.

I tiptoed through the cobblestone courtyard holding back the schoolgirl giggling.

“Shh!” I whispered as I grabbed the tips of his fingers and escorted him back to my apartment.

I didn’t give him the chance to stare.  I forfeited that moment in the moonlight for another.

I wasn’t shivering just because I was cold.

I was to be his present.

He looked me over.  I lowered my head as he untied the sash.

“I thought you said you didn’t have any lingerie?”

“Was that you complaining?”

“Not at all.” he said.

I turned around as he…

I wasn’t shivering just because I was cold.

One midnight a month on the anniversary of the day…

a star comes out…

to frolic and play.

You are the memory I never want to




I was nervous last night because I was afraid if you touched me…

when you touched me…

that it’d only reaffirm what I already knew.

I something thee.

My fantasy.

My” star.

All I need

“A man in the desert still searches for water.”

Wise words from a friend of mine when telling him a bit of the back story.

A story not to grace these pages today.

I know what I want.  It’s a very specific catch.

Very very specific.

Why does a man in  the desert still quest for water?


Only when you’re stripped away of everything, can you see exactly what you want.. what you need.. to survive.

“I think perhaps everyone needs to take that journey.” I told him.

“Funny you mention that.  I do that often.  I did it recently actually.”

I smiled and made a face at him.

“What’s that face mean?”


I know what I want.  It’s a very specific catch.

Very very specific.

I think a drive is in order.