Nothing So Rare as a Day in June....

Its been a while huh? Well its not that DBE (DoucheBag Ex) hasn't been doing douchey things.  He has, believe me.  I just haven't been worked up enough over any of it to actually write it down. This installment though? Oh, yeah.  Worked. Up. 
Now DBE and I parted ways in 2009.  It was my decision (no really) and there were honestly no major events (cheating) that caused the split.  It was the nine million little (major) things that someone can do to drive you away to the point you are no longer dropping bread crumbs.  Know what I'm sayin?  Example: Yelling at me about spending money on groceries when he has just dropped $600 on a fantasy football league.  Yes, that is a real example.  I digress.
We split.  I have never looked back in a missing him sort of way.  I have moved on.  He has moved on (see previous post about NEW).  NEW is a thorn in my side.  I expected her to be an asset.  No such luck.  She feeds the bullshit and I can see her handwriting all over it.  Everything from typing emails for DBE to telling my children to call her parents "Grandma" and "Grandpa" (bitch, they gotta earn those stripes!). 
Yesterday, June 1st.  Big day.  My parents celebrated their forty-sixth wedding anniversary (yay parents!).  June first is also the anniversary of a couple of other formerly big days in my life.  Mine and DBE's first date and the day he proposed.  Now, I don't celebrate these events any longer.  But I do hold the events out as part of the story of our life together. They were significant events and I imagine my daughter and maybe son will one day want to know the story of how their father and I happened to find one another.  I'm cool with that.  I'm cool with not painting that time in my life in the light in which I view it.  I would let my children believe that they were gifted to us with all the pomp and circumstance of unicorns at Buckingham Palace.  You know, not that we were in New Orleans for a football game and mommy had too many hurricanes at Pat O'Brien's. 
The pomp and circumstance got tarnished today.  I knew it was coming.  It still packed a punch though.  Today DBE and NEW got "married".  Really they got engaged and married in the same week in November, but today was the dog and pony show.  Now, if you pull out a calendar today is Thursday (what?), June 2nd.  Thursday is a weird day to get married, no? I have no idea why this date was chosen.  As a friend (Denise!) pointed out, if it were a Saturday and its a June bride thing, I get it.  But... its Thursday.  June 2nd also is not the same as June 1st, but its a little too close for comfort.Why this day?  Why??
By all means I wanted them to have a ceremony and include the kids.  She moved in very abruptly in November after they got married.  They've been telling the world that they are engaged but TRUST I was not allowing anyone to move in anywhere with out some vows being exchanged.  Today was the big event for everyone else.  I think its very confusing for my kids. Are you married or not? Do you move in before the wedding? My kids are 5 and 7.  Its just too early for them to learn about shacking up pre-marriage. Which, by the way, I'm honestly a fan of when kids are not involved. 
I told my (super awesome) friends that I can't pretend to not be a little upset by the timing.  I don't know if NEW has any idea about the date.  I don't know if DBE even realizes the date has significance. Was it an intended slap in the face or did it just feel like one? Questions I won't be getting answers to.  Mostly because it will be a cold day in hell before I ask. 
Is it silly to want to keep some cornerstones of that relationship intact? It seems that if its not silly it is at least unrealistic.  I continue to revamp my expectations where the ex and co are concerned.  I guess I'm going to lower the bar all the way down.  Then it won't surprise me when these things happen. 
I ask you though, if you were her, wouldn't you want to know the day was your's and your's alone?  She already lives in a house I picked out.  Sleeps in a bed I bought.  The flowers in the yard, I planted.  My daughter is the spitting image of me (though much cuter). Now she is marrying (again) the husband I discarded. I would have at least insisted on a date that was special.  But thats just me...
Want the funny part?  NEW actually had a bachelorette party complete with light-up penises!!  OMG.  Stop.  Its a second marriage for her too and DUDE!!!! YOU ARE ALREADY MARRIED!
BAHAHAHAHHA!
Congrats idiots!!!  Enjoy. 

You Can Use Roman Numerals II!

I have been considering writing this blog for a long time. I needed an outlet for my constant frustration with my ex. In considering I worried that I would run out topics, or things to write about. Well, I don't think that will be a problem. My Douche Bag Ex (henceforth to be known as DBE) just today gave me something I need to share. 
Usually DBE calls, texts or emails me several times a day. Some days, I get all three! I know. Believe me. It’s ridiculous. We do share custody of two beautiful hellcats (kids) but this is no excuse 95% of the time. Now, DBE does well, makes plenty of money but I have no idea how. He is not smart. Not book smart and just generally not smart (look he was tall, cute and I was way too young when we got married). A typical email from him has about 19.6 million grammatical and spelling errors. When I'm feeling like a particularly heinous bitch I will correct his mistakes and send it back. 
You know he just sits there and broods and tries to figure out how to overcome this. Spell check might be the first thing that comes to mind for the average person.  Let’s not be silly people.  He found another way. Lately, I've noticed his emails looking and sounding a lot differently. Today I actually took the time to open one of the emails on the computer (as opposed to immediate deletion) to respond and it hit me. NEW is editing, if not flat out writing them. 
NEW is new wife. I'm not sure I have the energy to fully detail all of that fuckery today, so you will just have to wait until another installment to hear why my hatred is growing for her. Although, we can safely add this to the list.
This is what I observed in today's email. First of all, I am addressed with my FIRST NAME. Okay? He hasn't flat out addressed me in years. Next, there is a change in color and font. Pfft. That just speaks for itself. THEN COME THE NUMBERS, BULLET POINTS AND ROMAN NUMERALS! I doubt he could follow a detailed breakdown like that if it had arrows, much less write it.  Lastly, he signed it.  Again, change in color and font.  It may as well have been signed NEW at the bottom.
I swear I didn't know it was possible to that pissed off and laughing so hard at the same time! Obviously, I was very warm and understanding in my response. Next time I will just ask if I can correspond with her directly if she is going to write his emails for him. Good luck little douche bags.  Good luck. 


Next up? DBE wants to have a "talk" with Mr. Wonderful (my fabulous boyfriend).  I only wish I were making this up. 

First Runner Up

Have you ever heard anyone talk about being the first runner up to anything?  Second place? Did they talk about it with a glint in their eye? Probably a longing for in their voice. The way it almost was. Well that's me! I was totally first runner up to homecoming queen in high school! I was so close to winning. Like THIS close. Like I could smell the roses in the winners hand...literally. She was like half a foot away. I got some too. Just...fewer. I GOT A TIARA TOO!
Know what I wasn't? I sure as hell wasn't SECOND runner up. That would be a totally different kind of blog. Pfft. 
This blog is not about my high school popularity. I know! Settle down. I can cover it again if you feel that strongly about it. The real point of this blog is so that I can vent, talk, discuss, bitch, complain, mock (mostly mock) my ex husband and my life in general. 
See, its not all bad. I sort of have a great life. Knowing I have so much to be happy about makes it tough to complain to those closest to me sometimes. I feel guilty for dragging them down into my hole. So, I'm just going to do my best to put the fuckery (I love that word too) into words and roll with it. 
So what is the significance of the title? Well, "Chronicles of an Asshole" was taken, so I think I will spend some time proving I'm not in second place. 

Go ahead, quote Reese Bobby (Ricky's daddy).  I know its killing you. 

Hakuna Matata, bitches!