An Epiphany, Something Totally Inappropriate, and One Thing That Bugs Me

So, for the most part, I've been doing really, really great. Much better post-divorce than I had imagined I might be doing. I do not regret my decision at all. In fact, everything confirms my decision all the time, so I'm quite happy with my "new normal" mode: coming home to a place I adore living, far less stress, no one at my house being the epicenter of negativity, "Single Stacey" (not to be confused with "Skinny Stacey" as she's still a myth.) It's all pretty damn OK!

Naturally, this is life we're talking about here, there are moments of absolute SUCK. These moments usually occur when I allow the word "should" to sneak into my thoughts. For example, if I let myself think, "I really should have a baby by now," I tend to be awfully damned sad. Let me 'splain (especially for the benefit of my dadness): I most definitely do not want to be pregnant or to have a baby right now. However, had my first marriage gone the way I had so so so desired, I would have one or two and be celebrating my 10th anniversary on New Year's Eve, and that can make me real freekin' sad. Thankfully, these episodes of absolute SUCK only last for a few minutes or hours at a time, and I'm able to remind myself that I'm young and healthy, and that the universe is an ordered, purposeful place. [NB: If you do not believe that the universe is an ordered, purposeful place, that is your business. Someone has to be wrong.]

In any case, I'm finally getting to the epiphany part:

I am currently experiencing some emotions that can best be described as terribly inconvenient. Concerning males of the species: I hope they die. Also, I would really like one of them to be my genuinely good friend, hug me often, and pet my hair. Can anyone say, "therapy"?

That was the epiphany part.

Now, on to the inappropriate part!

So I'm on the phone with a good friend of mine yesterday who has recently started seeing a man she really likes. Consequently, they are sharing congress of the most intimate adult kind, and she was explaining the method of pregnancy-prevention that she is using -- the hormone shot thingy which is 99.8+% effective). Anyway, the shot is making her crazy, so she has to take some drugs to counteract the shot, making the method only 95% effective. When the doc tells her that, she asks what he recommends to assist with that pesky 5% window.

The doctor commences explaining back up birth control methods, and, unfortunately for my friend, but fortunately for this story, he starts with a method called, "the sponge." Well, my poor, darlin' friend, who may well be one of the five funniest people in history, says, "Stacey, I just immediately started thinking 'Whhhoooooooooooooooooooo lives in a pineapple under the sea?!!'" [Note: In case you didn't know, it's SPONGE-BOB-SQUARE-PANTS.] After we both laugh real hard for a couple of minutes, and sing the song a couple of times, she comes back with this version, which does, in actual fact, make me SNORT. Ready? 'Cause this is the super inappropriate part: "Whhhhooooooooooooooo lives in a biscuit under my dress??!?!?" BWAHAHAHA! Ohmydamn, I cried laughing. That's so many kinds of wrong, and I love it.

Alright, here's the thing that bugs me. It's not that major, it's just something that I really dislike. You know when something good happens to you, and you tell someone else about it and they say, "It must be nice"? Yeah, I really hate that. See, as a matter of fact, it IS nice, dammit, and if you were my friend, you'd never say that. You'd be happy for me, you freakshow. I don't try to steal joy from you when something nice happens in your life, now DO I??? Um, no. I don't. So, how about you have a generous heart and quit saying that petty 'it must be nice' thing.

Wow, that was quite a little tirade. I must really hate that a lot!

OK, so let's go back to the "whooooooooooo lives in a biscuit under my dress???!!!!"

Have a great day!