Greetings from a pretty cool land of the NoozeHound.
My age is becoming a minor concern. Not in a grim way, more an acknowledged, with passing regret, the passing of time and it's effects on my body.
A body that, in all fairness, could never be described as lovingly maintained, to continue the vehicular analogy, more regularly well thrashed.
For instance I recently discovered that my thighs are far less supple than I had taken them to be, when trying to have them fold vertically in the footwell of a fairly compact vehicle. The thigh strain that I think I received as a result of said maneouvre lasted several days and, over a week later, I stll notice the latent effects on my right knee and calf.
EMNH continues to yank control and manipulation points to tiring effect, similarly tiring are her demands for funds.
I was also experiencing a discomfort in my right ring finger. A dull ache around the bottom joint. I considered how I have generated an RSI type of injury. Being on vacation, I have not used my PC as much as I would normally. What else could I have done to cause such an injury?
I cast my mind back to last night and smile.
I can now hardly consider it any less than a campaign injury and wear my aching finger with a sense of quiet pleasure, a badge of honour.
Not what one would think to post on FML.
Sadly, I have come to the sad point in my life where I am taking Multi-Vitamins. Worse still I found myself thinking about searching for joint supplements; Cod Liver Oil doesn't appeal and I find my self thinking Garlic Capsules for some reason and the dreadful reek that exuded from the pores of former in-laws.
Welcome to the disappointment.
21 August 2010
25 July 2010
Angels & Demons
Greetings from a decidedly stinky NoozeHound.
I have just completed a little exercise that I now try to include in my day. Less than a few miles but a tiring, hilly lane that someone thoughtfully placed a hostelry at the mid-point. Today, in admittedly short bursts, I jogged. I shit ye not.
An interesting observation was made to me today. Mine enemies enemy is my friend. I was more than a little surprised.
My life is running strange. I have moments of such peace, such exclusivity, it is as if I am taken to a protected oasis of calm where no harm can touch me. Other moments, I have genuine terror and dread of the horrendous dealings that lay ahead of me. My heart falls.
EMNH screamed at me for asking NoozeHoundette if she had met Mummy's new boyfriend yet. Questioning our daughter - guilt?
It later emerged she has already met The Married Man. Don't waste any time EMNH.
I notice that I am 'peacocking'. The process started immediately before I extracted myself from the house of horrors. I have adorned myself. I must say, I considered a tattoo or dying my hair, but my wooden beads are the limit of my 'radical' image change. It is typical divorce behaviour.
I think it may have something to do with trying to show the world you are someone new. Someone different.
I was told, in total sincerity, that I should fear for my safety around EMNH. I foolishly offered to babysit so she could attend her married man's beck and call to a hotel. It was a hellish mistake. I unfortunately broke a vase by accident and made something of a mess. I cleared it up but the damage was done. She twisted the knife several times. She seems to take pleasure in hurting me.
It was explained back to me that she was demonstrating to me she did not care for me. I have in recent times told EMNH I still love her. Perhaps this was my answer.
I got very drunk. It didn't hurt any more. Why does she have such hatred for me? She has what she apparently wanted. Why deliver more pain because she can.
I was also warned not to drink anything other than tea, coffee or water in that house again, for the real fear she may take him back to the house just because she can and it would hurt me. I must be capable of getting out hastily if required. This seems wise counsel.
I speak with friends and even feel happy.
Then the texts start from EMNH. Souring my mood and bringing a darkness over my being.
There is such a huge, destructive war to come. I am not ashamed to admit I fear the future.
Nearly fifteen years of accumulated vitriol and hatred seems destined for my path.
This is how you make me feel now...
Welcome to the disappointment.
I have just completed a little exercise that I now try to include in my day. Less than a few miles but a tiring, hilly lane that someone thoughtfully placed a hostelry at the mid-point. Today, in admittedly short bursts, I jogged. I shit ye not.
An interesting observation was made to me today. Mine enemies enemy is my friend. I was more than a little surprised.
My life is running strange. I have moments of such peace, such exclusivity, it is as if I am taken to a protected oasis of calm where no harm can touch me. Other moments, I have genuine terror and dread of the horrendous dealings that lay ahead of me. My heart falls.
EMNH screamed at me for asking NoozeHoundette if she had met Mummy's new boyfriend yet. Questioning our daughter - guilt?
It later emerged she has already met The Married Man. Don't waste any time EMNH.
I notice that I am 'peacocking'. The process started immediately before I extracted myself from the house of horrors. I have adorned myself. I must say, I considered a tattoo or dying my hair, but my wooden beads are the limit of my 'radical' image change. It is typical divorce behaviour.
I think it may have something to do with trying to show the world you are someone new. Someone different.
I was told, in total sincerity, that I should fear for my safety around EMNH. I foolishly offered to babysit so she could attend her married man's beck and call to a hotel. It was a hellish mistake. I unfortunately broke a vase by accident and made something of a mess. I cleared it up but the damage was done. She twisted the knife several times. She seems to take pleasure in hurting me.
It was explained back to me that she was demonstrating to me she did not care for me. I have in recent times told EMNH I still love her. Perhaps this was my answer.
I got very drunk. It didn't hurt any more. Why does she have such hatred for me? She has what she apparently wanted. Why deliver more pain because she can.
I was also warned not to drink anything other than tea, coffee or water in that house again, for the real fear she may take him back to the house just because she can and it would hurt me. I must be capable of getting out hastily if required. This seems wise counsel.
I speak with friends and even feel happy.
Then the texts start from EMNH. Souring my mood and bringing a darkness over my being.
There is such a huge, destructive war to come. I am not ashamed to admit I fear the future.
Nearly fifteen years of accumulated vitriol and hatred seems destined for my path.
This is how you make me feel now...
Welcome to the disappointment.
20 July 2010
Lost Afternoon
I was just about to take a picture of the mountains on my BlackBerry, I slid it from its pouch, I unlocked it, I went into the phone and turned to see an embankment now blocked the mountains form view.
You find NoozeHound today on a train to Edinburgh. This is more than a little unexpected. The train ride is in fact one small part of a rather largely unexpected afternoon. Not that I didn’t expect an afternoon at all, but I certainly hadn’t imagined it would have unfolded quite like this one.
Sent here on a secret squirrel mission (which makes it sound much grander than I assure you it is) I was up before the sun this morning and by 8:30 was sleeping my way up the country.
Late, I arrived in Edinburgh. Sleazy jet – rush you to get on the plane then when they close the doors and the captain tells us we’re ready just waiting to taxi out, we wait twenty minutes doing nothing for his opportunity to taxi out.
I was not greatly pleased after getting up at 4:30 that the dick driving the plane couldn’t pull out into traffic.
I call my host and he arranges to collect me. Meeting him, he seems a warm, cordial gentleman. He drives me from the airport in his Land Rover . Forty minutes later we arrive at the destination. He gets me tea and introduces me to the key personnel. I get settled in and the second of my hosts arrive. She shows ample cleavage, much to my male pleasure. I look and notice the blouse to be designed such - she does not have an extra button undone.
Not really for my benefit but maybe she thought a bit of cleavage might help. Who knows?
The fact is she had done her job really rather well, which made my job a great deal easier. Not only easier but also much, much quicker. So quick in fact that when I came to a natural break, I soon realised that with the dotting of a few I’s and the crossing of the odd T, I had completed the assigned task.
Our primary host took us for lunch at a farm barn, where I enjoyed a fruit salad and an espresso, which to my amusement was written “expresso”.
The sun was glorious, shining down from a blue cloudy sky. I felt like I had brought it with me – Scotland had not seen sunlight for several days. After I suggested that I had brought the sun with me, assorted suggestions of taking me to the Wallace Monument arose occasionally.
It’s getting over-cast now and cooling a little. As my day is opening out into a wander – with laptop, suited and booted – around Princes Street, that may be a good thing so long as it doesn’t rain.
Now I have had many things suggested to me that I could do in Edinburgh, shopping, museums, castles, art galleries and such and of course the pleasure of a hostelry.
I have to keep my wits about me – laptop, wallet, phone . I can’t get so inebriated that they question letting me on the plane. I have to get to the airport.
Only a few moments ago was the first time I even thought about EMNH. She emailed me yesterday making a request on behalf of NoozeHoundette. I went out of my way to comply.
I’m trying to be good.
The exercise is not getting done though.
Welcome to the disappointment.
SOMETIME LATER….
Greetings from the Unesco City of Literature (apparently). A very sunny Edinburgh, where the streets are paved with solar-powered ladies (and tourists) and hot and bothered NoozeHound.
I attended my first requirement at a Sainsbury’s local. I quickly strolled to No. 37 for a my first pint of the black stuff. On my egress I stopped and asked what I thought was perhaps a local about a bar with wi-fi access. He was Scottish but not from Edinburgh – may as well have been a tourist. He told me I would have to wait to get home to see her. If only he knew.
So I consulted the oracle. I tried Poynt first. Waste of bloody time that was.
Then I opted for Google on my phone browser – brilliant. Only because of our bizarre routing and off-shore proxy whenever I approach Google on a new or unset device – on this case my BB – it decides to return the result in Belgian or Dutch. Yeah, go figure?
So after I managed to change the language to Engels, I was quids in. Bars, Wifi Edinburgh.
It kep trying to tell me I was in Hanover Street New York and couldn’t give me a route from there to 103 George Street. Eventually, eventually, eventually, I managed to persuade G that I was in Hanover St, Lothian and it gave me directions to a cocktail bar with wi-fi and 43 ratings.
Ambling my way there, initially cautious as west is not natural parlance to a NoozeHound without compass, I fortuitously stumbled upon a Witherspoons. RESULT.
Free WI-fi and cheap beer. It is now 15:40. I am half-way down my second Guiness.
Life isn’t really so bad, or so one presently considers.
At the back of my mind a million monkeys are waiting to clamber all over my back. I am full of fears at the moment. Scared this might happen or scared that might happen.
I’m doing one of the sad ex things. I read her stars religiously – well at some time during the day. I try to imagine what affect they have on her. If the choices and decisions relate to her old life or her new life.
Mine are pretty great today, hers, not so much. I don’t want her to have a bad day. Not really. My star sign is supposed to love travel. Plane, taxi, train and possibly bus. It's in the stars.
I owed you a picture. This bloke is sort of infront of me. Why have they got a model of Terry Tibbs in a pub in Edinburgh (I don't think he's supposed to be Terry Tibbs - but he's a shorter but very passable version!)
Talk to me!
Welcome to the disappointment.
You find NoozeHound today on a train to Edinburgh. This is more than a little unexpected. The train ride is in fact one small part of a rather largely unexpected afternoon. Not that I didn’t expect an afternoon at all, but I certainly hadn’t imagined it would have unfolded quite like this one.
Sent here on a secret squirrel mission (which makes it sound much grander than I assure you it is) I was up before the sun this morning and by 8:30 was sleeping my way up the country.
Late, I arrived in Edinburgh. Sleazy jet – rush you to get on the plane then when they close the doors and the captain tells us we’re ready just waiting to taxi out, we wait twenty minutes doing nothing for his opportunity to taxi out.
I was not greatly pleased after getting up at 4:30 that the dick driving the plane couldn’t pull out into traffic.
I call my host and he arranges to collect me. Meeting him, he seems a warm, cordial gentleman. He drives me from the airport in his Land Rover . Forty minutes later we arrive at the destination. He gets me tea and introduces me to the key personnel. I get settled in and the second of my hosts arrive. She shows ample cleavage, much to my male pleasure. I look and notice the blouse to be designed such - she does not have an extra button undone.
Not really for my benefit but maybe she thought a bit of cleavage might help. Who knows?
The fact is she had done her job really rather well, which made my job a great deal easier. Not only easier but also much, much quicker. So quick in fact that when I came to a natural break, I soon realised that with the dotting of a few I’s and the crossing of the odd T, I had completed the assigned task.
Our primary host took us for lunch at a farm barn, where I enjoyed a fruit salad and an espresso, which to my amusement was written “expresso”.
The sun was glorious, shining down from a blue cloudy sky. I felt like I had brought it with me – Scotland had not seen sunlight for several days. After I suggested that I had brought the sun with me, assorted suggestions of taking me to the Wallace Monument arose occasionally.
It’s getting over-cast now and cooling a little. As my day is opening out into a wander – with laptop, suited and booted – around Princes Street, that may be a good thing so long as it doesn’t rain.
Now I have had many things suggested to me that I could do in Edinburgh, shopping, museums, castles, art galleries and such and of course the pleasure of a hostelry.
I have to keep my wits about me – laptop, wallet, phone . I can’t get so inebriated that they question letting me on the plane. I have to get to the airport.
Only a few moments ago was the first time I even thought about EMNH. She emailed me yesterday making a request on behalf of NoozeHoundette. I went out of my way to comply.
I’m trying to be good.
The exercise is not getting done though.
Welcome to the disappointment.
SOMETIME LATER….
Greetings from the Unesco City of Literature (apparently). A very sunny Edinburgh, where the streets are paved with solar-powered ladies (and tourists) and hot and bothered NoozeHound.
I attended my first requirement at a Sainsbury’s local. I quickly strolled to No. 37 for a my first pint of the black stuff. On my egress I stopped and asked what I thought was perhaps a local about a bar with wi-fi access. He was Scottish but not from Edinburgh – may as well have been a tourist. He told me I would have to wait to get home to see her. If only he knew.
So I consulted the oracle. I tried Poynt first. Waste of bloody time that was.
Then I opted for Google on my phone browser – brilliant. Only because of our bizarre routing and off-shore proxy whenever I approach Google on a new or unset device – on this case my BB – it decides to return the result in Belgian or Dutch. Yeah, go figure?
So after I managed to change the language to Engels, I was quids in. Bars, Wifi Edinburgh.
It kep trying to tell me I was in Hanover Street New York and couldn’t give me a route from there to 103 George Street. Eventually, eventually, eventually, I managed to persuade G that I was in Hanover St, Lothian and it gave me directions to a cocktail bar with wi-fi and 43 ratings.
Ambling my way there, initially cautious as west is not natural parlance to a NoozeHound without compass, I fortuitously stumbled upon a Witherspoons. RESULT.
Free WI-fi and cheap beer. It is now 15:40. I am half-way down my second Guiness.
Life isn’t really so bad, or so one presently considers.
At the back of my mind a million monkeys are waiting to clamber all over my back. I am full of fears at the moment. Scared this might happen or scared that might happen.
I’m doing one of the sad ex things. I read her stars religiously – well at some time during the day. I try to imagine what affect they have on her. If the choices and decisions relate to her old life or her new life.
Mine are pretty great today, hers, not so much. I don’t want her to have a bad day. Not really. My star sign is supposed to love travel. Plane, taxi, train and possibly bus. It's in the stars.
I owed you a picture. This bloke is sort of infront of me. Why have they got a model of Terry Tibbs in a pub in Edinburgh (I don't think he's supposed to be Terry Tibbs - but he's a shorter but very passable version!)
Talk to me!
Welcome to the disappointment.
19 July 2010
A Quiet Sadness
Changing times in NoozeHound land.
I am experiencing something of an emotional malaise.
Well,it was a definite weekend. I got blown out Friday night - for the second successive attempt with this individual friend.
When I bumped into an old acquaintance on Thursday, out of the blue, for the second time in a year, in a very odd fashion, I got the idea that fate may be lending a hand.
Taking that into consideration, I took the long view that perhaps fate (or whatever unseen set of circumstances or coincidence work for you) was sending me a gentle message that the failure to hook-up for a second time was, perhaps, for a reason.
So my Friday was spent in alone with my anaesthetics.
Saturday I had the NoozeHoundette for the day. We bowled and played air hockey. We went to the pictures (AstroBoy - which we both enjoyed) and had an impromptu picnic in the park. A trip to the barbers - me - and a trip to the market to buy a super-soaker - NoozeHoundette.
EMNH phoned demanding I do her washing as I had left her without a machine. I complied I want to at least try to do right.
Then I cooked her dinner, we had a bit of a cuddle and watched some Toy Story 2.
I took her home and I think mostly she had a good day. It's all very, very sad.
I went for dinner at a friend's house.
It hit me that she had been seeing this man while I was at work - in my house. Sleeping with him there.
She had given me her sheets and dirty knickers to was. How much hatred does this was have for me? How could she humiliate so completely. Such stuff is the kinky world of cuckolds and their like.
I told her this was not to happen again by email. I have not heard from her since.
After anaesthnetizing at my friend's - drinking until I could no longer stand up, SUnday was a subdued afair.
I spent much time thinking. A whisper from a quiet corner suggested that perhaps Karma was at work- NoozeHound had left his first wife for another woman.
The more I thought, EMNH had told me; not quite as she portrays herself, but told me it was over and never answered my pleas to put it right. She ahd tried to keep her affair away from me and private. She had tried to tell me it was over.
It was my delusional inability to see what was before me.
I'm glad for my sanity that I got out - 'What a fool believes' was a very approriate song wasn't it.
Sunday was very restrained and a little odd because I knew I would be deinking later I couldn't kick back and relax inthe sun with a few cold ones.
I went to see the old friend from Thursday. We walked to the local and enjoyed a few glasses together. It was nice to smile and laugh for a change. It felt good being out on a school night - there must be some benefits.
I have accepted EMNH is just that; an ex. She can't hurt me anymore. She tore my heart from my chest, spat on it and kicked it laughing all the while up and down the street.
I still love her though. My world is a sadder, quieter more lonely place without her in it.
Of course I know I shall hear from her again - demanding money or requiring care for the NoozeHoundette so she can meet her married man. It will be demanding, or screaming or a courteous text/email asking me to babysit.
It won't be to clean her soiled sheets - that I guarantee.
I robbed this from Postsecret -I hope the author doesn't mind but I find myself asking the same questions:
Welcome to the disappointment
I am experiencing something of an emotional malaise.
Well,it was a definite weekend. I got blown out Friday night - for the second successive attempt with this individual friend.
When I bumped into an old acquaintance on Thursday, out of the blue, for the second time in a year, in a very odd fashion, I got the idea that fate may be lending a hand.
Taking that into consideration, I took the long view that perhaps fate (or whatever unseen set of circumstances or coincidence work for you) was sending me a gentle message that the failure to hook-up for a second time was, perhaps, for a reason.
So my Friday was spent in alone with my anaesthetics.
Saturday I had the NoozeHoundette for the day. We bowled and played air hockey. We went to the pictures (AstroBoy - which we both enjoyed) and had an impromptu picnic in the park. A trip to the barbers - me - and a trip to the market to buy a super-soaker - NoozeHoundette.
EMNH phoned demanding I do her washing as I had left her without a machine. I complied I want to at least try to do right.
Then I cooked her dinner, we had a bit of a cuddle and watched some Toy Story 2.
I took her home and I think mostly she had a good day. It's all very, very sad.
I went for dinner at a friend's house.
It hit me that she had been seeing this man while I was at work - in my house. Sleeping with him there.
She had given me her sheets and dirty knickers to was. How much hatred does this was have for me? How could she humiliate so completely. Such stuff is the kinky world of cuckolds and their like.
I told her this was not to happen again by email. I have not heard from her since.
After anaesthnetizing at my friend's - drinking until I could no longer stand up, SUnday was a subdued afair.
I spent much time thinking. A whisper from a quiet corner suggested that perhaps Karma was at work- NoozeHound had left his first wife for another woman.
The more I thought, EMNH had told me; not quite as she portrays herself, but told me it was over and never answered my pleas to put it right. She ahd tried to keep her affair away from me and private. She had tried to tell me it was over.
It was my delusional inability to see what was before me.
I'm glad for my sanity that I got out - 'What a fool believes' was a very approriate song wasn't it.
Sunday was very restrained and a little odd because I knew I would be deinking later I couldn't kick back and relax inthe sun with a few cold ones.
I went to see the old friend from Thursday. We walked to the local and enjoyed a few glasses together. It was nice to smile and laugh for a change. It felt good being out on a school night - there must be some benefits.
I have accepted EMNH is just that; an ex. She can't hurt me anymore. She tore my heart from my chest, spat on it and kicked it laughing all the while up and down the street.
I still love her though. My world is a sadder, quieter more lonely place without her in it.
Of course I know I shall hear from her again - demanding money or requiring care for the NoozeHoundette so she can meet her married man. It will be demanding, or screaming or a courteous text/email asking me to babysit.
It won't be to clean her soiled sheets - that I guarantee.
I robbed this from Postsecret -I hope the author doesn't mind but I find myself asking the same questions:
Welcome to the disappointment
16 July 2010
...That Scene in 'Fight Club'
Greetings from a decidedly punch-drunk NoozeHound.
It is a cruel irony of 'married' life that a woman dresses and makes herself up at her most sexily dresssed to spend all day with other people. As soon as she is out of work, it's slip into somehting more comfortable.
The woman looks ravishing for her prospective 'new man' in the office, but then dresses down at home. The male partner never gets to enjoy the woman looking 'office hot' unless they work together - fuck it. Yes, they work together.
She looked 'office-hot' this morning. I commented on her getting a wear from her shoes (a pair she had bought for a party and thought she'd never wear again), she went silent. The inferrence was definitely "I've had good use of these shoes now."
I would imagine the satisfaction of additional useage of footwear was probably not celebrated.
See, this is what I mean. I'm re-enacting that scene when we get to watch the CCTV footgae of the fight towards the end of the film - the one where we watch Norton punch himself in the face.
God! I am so FUCKING STUPID! - Smack!
"No, I don't think it's that ' - referrign back to a conversation about a man spending money on a sports car. I made the small penis connection. THUNK!
How stupid - how would she knew the size of the man's cock who is buying the sports car.
TWACK! SPLATT!!
We had a neutral but infromative communication by email. I told her off after a rather demanding phone call.
She didn't respond to any of the emails. I feel more lost than ever.
Close to tears. Again.
I showed a friend her picture - she said "Ahh, she's beautiful. I can't hate her now."
"I can't live, with or without you."
I just went to the loo. I try to keep myself occupied.
I was suddenly thrust back several weeks, to a clothes store, where 'Then Mrs NoozeHound' asked me to go shopping with her - I was trying to make us work, so was unusually happy to comply.
I was just washing my hands after the toilet when that image smashed into my face.
"I need a new overnight bag, come and help me get one."
- She was buying it so she could turn up at his hotel carrying a fancy bag.
What a fool I was. Isn't that just perverse and spiteful? She could have made me pay for it I suppose. That's the only way it could be worse though.
Welcome to the disappointment.
It is a cruel irony of 'married' life that a woman dresses and makes herself up at her most sexily dresssed to spend all day with other people. As soon as she is out of work, it's slip into somehting more comfortable.
The woman looks ravishing for her prospective 'new man' in the office, but then dresses down at home. The male partner never gets to enjoy the woman looking 'office hot' unless they work together - fuck it. Yes, they work together.
She looked 'office-hot' this morning. I commented on her getting a wear from her shoes (a pair she had bought for a party and thought she'd never wear again), she went silent. The inferrence was definitely "I've had good use of these shoes now."
I would imagine the satisfaction of additional useage of footwear was probably not celebrated.
See, this is what I mean. I'm re-enacting that scene when we get to watch the CCTV footgae of the fight towards the end of the film - the one where we watch Norton punch himself in the face.
God! I am so FUCKING STUPID! - Smack!
"No, I don't think it's that ' - referrign back to a conversation about a man spending money on a sports car. I made the small penis connection. THUNK!
How stupid - how would she knew the size of the man's cock who is buying the sports car.
TWACK! SPLATT!!
We had a neutral but infromative communication by email. I told her off after a rather demanding phone call.
She didn't respond to any of the emails. I feel more lost than ever.
Close to tears. Again.
I showed a friend her picture - she said "Ahh, she's beautiful. I can't hate her now."
"I can't live, with or without you."
I just went to the loo. I try to keep myself occupied.
I was suddenly thrust back several weeks, to a clothes store, where 'Then Mrs NoozeHound' asked me to go shopping with her - I was trying to make us work, so was unusually happy to comply.
I was just washing my hands after the toilet when that image smashed into my face.
"I need a new overnight bag, come and help me get one."
- She was buying it so she could turn up at his hotel carrying a fancy bag.
What a fool I was. Isn't that just perverse and spiteful? She could have made me pay for it I suppose. That's the only way it could be worse though.
Welcome to the disappointment.
13 July 2010
Sanity, Long Walks, A Bad Case of the Blues
Summer is quickly turn to the chill of Autumn inthe land of NoozeHound.
The weather hasn't helped. It feels like we will never see the sun again.
This morning she was rushed, slightly off-hand. She looked beautiful, if showing a tiny bit too much boob. (She wears the dress for church, we're not talking slut here.)
She pours scorn on my flattering comments. I tell her legs look lovely.
"...From all the working out I've been doing. Oh Yeah." she sneers.
She kept me aroud to pay the bills and cheated on me with a married man.
That is to what I must reconcile myself. She made no attempt to save our relationship or warn me of what may happen. She told me we are not together, but never answered me about putting us together - I can only believe this was to keep me paying the billls.
She just wanted a semi-blameless, somehow honourable affair with a marrried man from work.
When I knew for certain that she no longer loved me and had gone to the arms of another I could not stay in that house. Who in truth, with any compassion could blame me?
I have not emailed her today. I miss contact from her. By not contacting her do I open the doors for contact with her lover - though I know my emails would have been sitting beside his (and his wife's by some accounts) in her mail box. She may even forward mine to him, laughing at me.
I have written an email I have yet to send. It makes the position clear.
I am not sure if my timing needs closer scrutiny.
My heart hurts. I want to go and hide somewhere. I feel close to tears if I were that way inclined.
Fake it 'til you feel it.
Welcome to the disappointment.
The weather hasn't helped. It feels like we will never see the sun again.
This morning she was rushed, slightly off-hand. She looked beautiful, if showing a tiny bit too much boob. (She wears the dress for church, we're not talking slut here.)
She pours scorn on my flattering comments. I tell her legs look lovely.
"...From all the working out I've been doing. Oh Yeah." she sneers.
She kept me aroud to pay the bills and cheated on me with a married man.
That is to what I must reconcile myself. She made no attempt to save our relationship or warn me of what may happen. She told me we are not together, but never answered me about putting us together - I can only believe this was to keep me paying the billls.
She just wanted a semi-blameless, somehow honourable affair with a marrried man from work.
When I knew for certain that she no longer loved me and had gone to the arms of another I could not stay in that house. Who in truth, with any compassion could blame me?
I have not emailed her today. I miss contact from her. By not contacting her do I open the doors for contact with her lover - though I know my emails would have been sitting beside his (and his wife's by some accounts) in her mail box. She may even forward mine to him, laughing at me.
I have written an email I have yet to send. It makes the position clear.
I am not sure if my timing needs closer scrutiny.
My heart hurts. I want to go and hide somewhere. I feel close to tears if I were that way inclined.
Fake it 'til you feel it.
Welcome to the disappointment.
12 July 2010
Strange Sunday, Morose Monday
Poor lamentable NoozeHound here.
Sunday EMNH proposed an impromptu Birthday drink. Teenage EMNH came to give her Mother her present and EMNH and NoozeHoundette came up after the gutter cleanign had been sorted.
EMNH was a tad drunk and aftera walk around the cricket green to blag the NoozeHoundette onto the cricket clubs bouncy castle, we walked back to the pub and I drove her home.
It was nice.
"I still love you, you know?"
"NoozeHound, ...don't."
I went home to drown my sorrows (violently and rapidly) and watch the football.
* * *
Today I was at the house to look after NoozeHoundette - EMNH has to go to work.
While I was in the house I looked at EMNH's cards.
Today I sought an excuse to email her, so I updated her on NoozeHounzdette's attire and what she had taken to school.
Not only was there one from the married lover, she had even put it next to and in front of mine.
The cheek of it.
A snoop gets what he deserves I suppose.
I wanted to rip it to pieces.
I then had to email her again about a business trip.
"Either really, doesn't matter, I have to take her to and from Brownies on my own anyway, so don't get a break in between doing dinner Thurdays anyway and oin Tuesdays we are foten completing homework, but I am starting at 9am and finishing at 5.30pm, so I have time to sit in traffic to collect her from school by 6pm anyway, don't know if I'll be able to get to work by 9am tho.
(Just remembered, you drop her at 8.30am, so any day will be cool)"
followed by
"You obviously won't need to come round that week as I can manage childcare!
(Like when I'm on lates, all you'll have to do then is collect her and hold onto her until 7.10pm)"
The depressing finality of our separation, so clear in her words - she's trying to be nice, helpful, - I feel so desperately sad.
Welcome to the disappointment.
Sunday EMNH proposed an impromptu Birthday drink. Teenage EMNH came to give her Mother her present and EMNH and NoozeHoundette came up after the gutter cleanign had been sorted.
EMNH was a tad drunk and aftera walk around the cricket green to blag the NoozeHoundette onto the cricket clubs bouncy castle, we walked back to the pub and I drove her home.
It was nice.
"I still love you, you know?"
"NoozeHound, ...don't."
I went home to drown my sorrows (violently and rapidly) and watch the football.
* * *
Today I was at the house to look after NoozeHoundette - EMNH has to go to work.
While I was in the house I looked at EMNH's cards.
Today I sought an excuse to email her, so I updated her on NoozeHounzdette's attire and what she had taken to school.
Not only was there one from the married lover, she had even put it next to and in front of mine.
The cheek of it.
A snoop gets what he deserves I suppose.
I wanted to rip it to pieces.
I then had to email her again about a business trip.
"Either really, doesn't matter, I have to take her to and from Brownies on my own anyway, so don't get a break in between doing dinner Thurdays anyway and oin Tuesdays we are foten completing homework, but I am starting at 9am and finishing at 5.30pm, so I have time to sit in traffic to collect her from school by 6pm anyway, don't know if I'll be able to get to work by 9am tho.
(Just remembered, you drop her at 8.30am, so any day will be cool)"
followed by
"You obviously won't need to come round that week as I can manage childcare!
(Like when I'm on lates, all you'll have to do then is collect her and hold onto her until 7.10pm)"
The depressing finality of our separation, so clear in her words - she's trying to be nice, helpful, - I feel so desperately sad.
Welcome to the disappointment.
11 July 2010
NoozeHound here.
I have been summoned to the house to be in on EMNH birthday. I am totally wrong for agreeing to a friend performing a favour on hr birthday weekend.
"I'm not staying in. You are. It's not ideal but it will have to do."
There then occurs a frank, mostly one-sided, exchange of views with regard the things I have done wrong.
"What about what you've done to me?"
"Me? I've done nothing."
She shuts the door firmly behind her.
Really, EMNH, Nothing?
* * *
It dawned on me last night, away from my more fanciful phases, that all that lay ahead with regard my relationship with EMNH:
Arguments about money.
Arguments about anything that needs doing with the house.
Arguments about childcare.
Arguments about the quality of the child care - today's topic.
She patently does not love me.
She continues to deny her other lover.
It is impossible to speculate, but I think it rational that the next ten years will be steeped in toxic bitterness dealt to me almost daily by the women I love.
I try not to feel it.
People say, "...you need to make a clean break of it."
There's no clean breaks with kids.
I feeel Despair's heavy breath down my back, engulfing my body.
Welcome to the disappointment.
I have been summoned to the house to be in on EMNH birthday. I am totally wrong for agreeing to a friend performing a favour on hr birthday weekend.
"I'm not staying in. You are. It's not ideal but it will have to do."
There then occurs a frank, mostly one-sided, exchange of views with regard the things I have done wrong.
"What about what you've done to me?"
"Me? I've done nothing."
She shuts the door firmly behind her.
Really, EMNH, Nothing?
* * *
It dawned on me last night, away from my more fanciful phases, that all that lay ahead with regard my relationship with EMNH:
Arguments about money.
Arguments about anything that needs doing with the house.
Arguments about childcare.
Arguments about the quality of the child care - today's topic.
She patently does not love me.
She continues to deny her other lover.
It is impossible to speculate, but I think it rational that the next ten years will be steeped in toxic bitterness dealt to me almost daily by the women I love.
I try not to feel it.
People say, "...you need to make a clean break of it."
There's no clean breaks with kids.
I feeel Despair's heavy breath down my back, engulfing my body.
Welcome to the disappointment.
10 July 2010
Pain comes in so many flavours
NoozeHound bids you welcome from what once was his castle.
EMNH has gone out with her adulteress friends to one of my locals.
I am sans medication - have been all day for NoozeHoundette visit.
I don't want to feel the things I am feeling. I am sitting for EMNH, looking after our daughter - incluidng cooking tea for her. I read several bed time stories.
The mask now slips. I have nothing to occupy me. Like a diseased animal I pick at the sores. Lifting the scabs of the afffair. The humililation. The Lies. How beautiful she looked tonight. How hurtfully she treated me. With such a dispassionate air.
She has terminated her relaitonship with me and is sleeping with a married man who will not commit to her. She treats me like domestic help and an unnecessary financial evil.
She calls me childish for my daytime flit. How else could I have left? She told one frined she had told me all about it, that our relationship was over and I would move into the spare rooom and share the bills. The only offer of a room I got was when I complained of back-pain and that I could see no point in maintainng a household on which I only get a sofa.
I asked her repeatedly, "Do you Love me?" On the last occasion, she told me, "You know I never use that word."
But she did. Post-coitally she would cling, spent to me and whisper it over and over.
She not only no longer loved me, she no longer considered we had a relationship and had consequently gone and started another with a man with a sports car at work.
And I sit and wait for her return. Punished for turning up late becuase doing her washing took longer than I had planned.
Oh! How I long for my medication. Unlike Robbie, right now, I don't wanna feel.
Publish and be damned - they should be home soon, allowing for the retributional threat.
Heart-break I know your name, it is written on your birthday card.
Welcome to the disappoinment.
Today I Learned
Greetings from the land of the NoozeHound. A land geographically located across most of the circles of dante's inferno.
Today I learned that Reddit is not the place to discuss a prospective suicide.
While I did read some insightful advice, the number of 'buck-up' or 'go for a walk'. 'it ain't so bad' outnumbered it vastly.
The questioner, had a far simpler life than my own and one that faces far fewer demands.
I am immensely fortunate that I have a place to sleep. However it is so far from ideal it is unbearable. The prospect of living in a hovel of my own looms menacingly. I was remeinded a few weeks ago of a bathroom with no window. It reminded me of living in my flat. It filled me with dread.
I wonder if one part of the reasoning applies to my own situatiion. My limitations and requirements are not easily accessible, less so than his own. Is this a decision to stop me being able to reach it?
Alcohol helps me to feel nothing, desensitizing me. I am trying, in my dealings and waking hours to be as nice to everyone as I can - including the object of my suffering. Great waves of sadness and almost debilitating depression wash over me when my mind stops it's focus for an instant.
In retrospect I suspect the desensitizing power of alcohol had been my solice for some months.
A Six Sentence that I posted received as simple comment - "She doesn't love you. Move on."
Whilst apparently true, the soul-destroying pain I have experienced in recognizing that truth and performing the prescribed action has been gargantuan and debilitizing.
I must find my happy face soon.
I am seeing the NoozeHoundette later, we are going shopping for EMH birthday present. Maybe to a park or a bike ride. Something to eat at a restaurant and then I am sitting her for the evening so Sing Star or Wii and a bedtime story.
Absentee Father Days. Divorced Nights. Desporate Desolation.
Welcome to the disappointment.
Today I learned that Reddit is not the place to discuss a prospective suicide.
While I did read some insightful advice, the number of 'buck-up' or 'go for a walk'. 'it ain't so bad' outnumbered it vastly.
The questioner, had a far simpler life than my own and one that faces far fewer demands.
I am immensely fortunate that I have a place to sleep. However it is so far from ideal it is unbearable. The prospect of living in a hovel of my own looms menacingly. I was remeinded a few weeks ago of a bathroom with no window. It reminded me of living in my flat. It filled me with dread.
I wonder if one part of the reasoning applies to my own situatiion. My limitations and requirements are not easily accessible, less so than his own. Is this a decision to stop me being able to reach it?
Alcohol helps me to feel nothing, desensitizing me. I am trying, in my dealings and waking hours to be as nice to everyone as I can - including the object of my suffering. Great waves of sadness and almost debilitating depression wash over me when my mind stops it's focus for an instant.
In retrospect I suspect the desensitizing power of alcohol had been my solice for some months.
A Six Sentence that I posted received as simple comment - "She doesn't love you. Move on."
Whilst apparently true, the soul-destroying pain I have experienced in recognizing that truth and performing the prescribed action has been gargantuan and debilitizing.
I must find my happy face soon.
I am seeing the NoozeHoundette later, we are going shopping for EMH birthday present. Maybe to a park or a bike ride. Something to eat at a restaurant and then I am sitting her for the evening so Sing Star or Wii and a bedtime story.
Absentee Father Days. Divorced Nights. Desporate Desolation.
Welcome to the disappointment.
7 July 2010
Turns
Greetings from the frozen wastes of the realm of the NoozeHound.
A land where warmth is noticeable by it's absence. Here be Dragons.
I am missing my Windows 7/Ubuntu dual-boot Workstation. I am missing my little XP Worskstation too. I'm a little closer to my server, but it sits, unoperational and forlorn.
All but the last, stored in a tiny, dark, powerless cupboard so I could not remote onto them should I even have wanted.
A combination of factors have culminated in a chill wind that now howls through my existence.
I can't recall if I told you about the guy I met at a party who had split with his wife and told me he was living in his friend's box room. We met and it was as if the Grim Reaper himself or some Dickension spirit sought to provide a glimpse of my future. One that filled me with dread and despair.
Today, the sword of damacles fell, slicing my financial safety-net and decimating my earning potential. Health care and life asssurance be damned. A terrifying and impoverished future looms large and imposing.
My mood turned further down when I calculated the cost of housing and the savage cut in earnings I now faced would see me struggle to afford more than a shoe-box and whatever remained to pay EMNH for the NoozeHoundette child support heading my way.
Soon after I recalled an old friend. I contacted him and another string of the Rockstar falls into place.
Later that evening it emerged the EMH was having this affair for months.
My suspicions were correct.
I am destroyed once more.
Welcome to the disapointment
A land where warmth is noticeable by it's absence. Here be Dragons.
I am missing my Windows 7/Ubuntu dual-boot Workstation. I am missing my little XP Worskstation too. I'm a little closer to my server, but it sits, unoperational and forlorn.
All but the last, stored in a tiny, dark, powerless cupboard so I could not remote onto them should I even have wanted.
A combination of factors have culminated in a chill wind that now howls through my existence.
I can't recall if I told you about the guy I met at a party who had split with his wife and told me he was living in his friend's box room. We met and it was as if the Grim Reaper himself or some Dickension spirit sought to provide a glimpse of my future. One that filled me with dread and despair.
Today, the sword of damacles fell, slicing my financial safety-net and decimating my earning potential. Health care and life asssurance be damned. A terrifying and impoverished future looms large and imposing.
My mood turned further down when I calculated the cost of housing and the savage cut in earnings I now faced would see me struggle to afford more than a shoe-box and whatever remained to pay EMNH for the NoozeHoundette child support heading my way.
Soon after I recalled an old friend. I contacted him and another string of the Rockstar falls into place.
Later that evening it emerged the EMH was having this affair for months.
My suspicions were correct.
I am destroyed once more.
Welcome to the disapointment
5 July 2010
Little Signs
Those versed in things NoozeHound may recall the Rockstar Exit (TM).
It was always so terribly impractical due to the lack of access to the 'killer' ingredients, if you will pardon the pun.
The main theme was to party with two attractive female sex workers, indulge in Cocaine and Champagne and conclude overdosing on Herion.
Having necked every pill I could lay my hands on recently to no ill-effect, I'd put the exit route aside for the time being, filed under failed projects.
NoozeHound did a flit and moved out of the house this weekend. The ex whas been positively hostile. I don't understand. I thought it was what she wanted.
It seems she wanted me to stay on as her live-in housekeeper while she sought out pastures new, just not rocking her world.
She seems neither to realize or accept that being around her not wanting me is destroying me. I have been called selfish and childish, dramatic and stupid.
Every expression of my feelings was charged with being dramatic or feeling sorry for myself. When you are hurt isn't it usual to be feeling sorry yourself?
Returning to my theme, it emerges that my escape-pod is in a neigbourhood where there is a rumoured heroin dealer.
Funnny how Dream's sister, whichever of them it was, can point the way so subtly.
Welcome to the disappointment.
3 July 2010
Amazing Accommodation Available
Room in shared 3-bed house, very popular location, close to M1/M25, good local schools.
Please note - this is a house-share. No emotional support is available and there is no possibility of a relationship of a romantic nature.
No actual bed available - but (quite) large sofa (cushions can be placed on floor if required)
You will be liable for all Gas, Electricity, Telephone, Broadband and Buildings & Contents Insurance.
You will not pay (directly) Council Tax and TV License.
All cooking shared dependant on shift-work
Three weeks out of four you will be expected to take another member of the house-hold to school
Two weeks out of four you will be expected to collect her from after-school club - You will be expected to pay for this exclusively and will not receive offers of assistance due to a perceived immense wealth gap.
Free use of vehicle - you to tax, fuel and maintain.
All washing-up will be done by you - unless the self-appointed primary tenant feels particularly inclined or aggrieved.
In the event that the self-appointed primary tenant does 'wash-up as the self-appointed primary tenant goes' when cooking - you will still be expected to do all of the after-dinner washing-up and any heavy frying pans or other items the self-appointed primary tenant just doesn't fancy doing.
Occasionally the self-appointed primary tenant will prepare packed lunch for the child - you will be expected to prepare the rest approximately 15/20 pro-rata.
If you rise before or around the self-appointed primary tenant and make tea, the self-appointed primary tenant will expect one and will expect it brought to her bedside.
As the self-appointed primary tenant will avoid leaving her room unless essential the self-appointed primary tenant will feel disposed to request you provide drinks or sundries from the kitchen - it is presupposed you will provide and deliver these
You will be expected to mow the lawn as required - the self-appointed primary tenant does not use the lawn mower.
You will be expected to vacuum as required - the self-appointed primary tenant does not use the vacuum cleaner.
Alcohol : If you bring alcohol into the house expect to be criticized for it's purchase. It is presumed this alcohol will be shared with the self-appointed primary tenant and expected that it is served to her in her room - the self-appointed primary tenant will not collect. If unavoidable the self-appointed primary tenant will send a child to collect it from me.
I do not like beer - if this is purchased the self-appointed primary tenant will expect a suitable alternative to be provided - this will still incur the aforementioned criticism.
If the self-appointed primary tenant purchases alcohol it is for her sole consumption.
Religious observance:the self-appointed primary tenant will attend church periodically. On these occasions it is expected you will attend to cleaning the house in her absence. Cleanliness is next to godliness they say.
Laundry - the self-appointed primary tenant will leave her dirty laundry on the landing or on the floor of her room. The self-appointed primary tenant does not think it unfair to expect you to pick it up after her and deposit it in the washing bin. The self-appointed primary tenant will encourage other house-hold members to do likewise.
Since we have no working washing machine the laundry will be be exclusively your responsibility -the self-appointed primary tenant will not go to the launderette. The self-appointed primary tenant will never take a load to your Mothers'.
Finally with regard ironing,the self-appointed primary tenant doesn't have much ironing so the self-appointed primary tenant will expect you to do your ironing and the junior member of the household's ironing too (weekly).
Despite an agreement that you pay the bills and the self-appointed primary tenant will do the food shopping, the self-appointed primary tenant will call on you to do food shopping on an ad hoc basis. Repayment for this shopping may or may not be inferred but ultimately will never be repaid. The self-appointed primary tenant may pray upon you to make emergency errands for her, for things like prescriptions. The self-appointed primary tenant will not refund you for these items either - the self-appointed primary tenant will usually thank you though.
Not especially appealing is it?
Welcome to the disappointment.
Not especially appealing is it?
Welcome to the disappointment.
2 July 2010
Unbreak My Heart
Greetings from the land of the NoozeHound.
How quaint that sounds in the light of my very real and mostly under-stated suicide bid.
I have dabbled with blip but discovered it is supranationally a horrible channel for youtube cover videos.
My Babies: I come from an era that was subjected to Mrs Mill, MfP and TotTP albums.
A cover version, far from being a tribute is a filthy dirty pass-off. I went on Bli[ today. determined to do a soulful, upbeat show - broadcast to the the dozens and fed to twitter - approx 12 people realistically.
Nothing but cover after cover, crossed out track after crossed out track.
I've tried pretty hard lately - it's not good enough, she's in love with imaginary man . I'm wrong for waiting, You see my reasoning was " I got off - who should I call? My top squeeze!"
Mr sleeze called before and after.
Man she'll fucking miss me when I scoot my arse out of here - hope 'Mr Loverly' makes good tea cos I'll sue her arse quicker than a wink if she gets baby NoozeHound to be her tea maker.
How quaint that sounds in the light of my very real and mostly under-stated suicide bid.
I have dabbled with blip but discovered it is supranationally a horrible channel for youtube cover videos.
My Babies: I come from an era that was subjected to Mrs Mill, MfP and TotTP albums.
A cover version, far from being a tribute is a filthy dirty pass-off. I went on Bli[ today. determined to do a soulful, upbeat show - broadcast to the the dozens and fed to twitter - approx 12 people realistically.
Nothing but cover after cover, crossed out track after crossed out track.
I've tried pretty hard lately - it's not good enough, she's in love with imaginary man . I'm wrong for waiting, You see my reasoning was " I got off - who should I call? My top squeeze!"
Mr sleeze called before and after.
Man she'll fucking miss me when I scoot my arse out of here - hope 'Mr Loverly' makes good tea cos I'll sue her arse quicker than a wink if she gets baby NoozeHound to be her tea maker.
19 June 2010
Well grizzly murder fans, here we are back for more FML pain.
STBEMNH returned Thursday evening. I had steeled myself for I'm not sure what, but she was easy-enough going and interacted by phone a few times about arrangements for the NoozeHoundette.
Because of a misunderstanding we missed NoozeHoundettes Brownie Sports Day. STBEMNH said she didn't feel like cooking, so we could have Fish & Chips. When it came around it emerged she had rushed out without her purse so could I get it? I didn't really mind and was even trying to dismiss my fears as paranoia.
After I got in, immediately after dinner I tried a few questions about her previous evening.
* Readers of a sensitive or naive disposition should stop reading here; the following tale of woe include details of what real people living together experience and discuss.
She complained that she had come-on again, after only having been on a few weeks previously. I expressed that I hoped she hadn't come-on in her friends bed. She said she hadn't.
As this previously mentioned friend's partner was reportedly very jealous, I curiously asked how come he was away each Wednesday? The answer was a fluff-off "Oh, he goes out with his friends."
Later I asked about the friend's child. What she was like compared to the NoozeHoundette?
- "A really good little girl who does as she's told. Why are you asking all this?" she positively rankled, annoyed at the questioning. A little too irked to be anything other than tell-tale. Or at least sniffing strongly of guilt and awkwardness.
But nonetheless, I had nothing conclusive so left it there. She complained of me coming in and out (she now lives exclusively in the bedroom, not even having her meals downstairs - we sleep separately - me on the couch) and wanted to be left in peace.
I did exactly that. Went downstairs, did some clearing up and left her in peace.
Fussing after the cat she came down, naked. I hadn't seen her naked and upright in sometime; she had lost a bit of weight and looked fantastic. Still trying, I sent her a text telling her how good she looked, disarming it with the additional clause 'in a girly way'.
Sometime later I went to the loo and after popped in to ask her something while I was upstairs.
To borrow a phrase from Cher "...well I lost everything Darlin' then and there..."
It's funny, the total and irrefutable universality of some non-verbal communication and body-language. How the minute you lay your eyes on it you know, unflinchingly, what is before your eyes.
STBEMNH was naked in bed, pulling herself up onto her raised pillows, edging up with her elbows. Her Android was tucked under her left ear, a girlish, cooed 'mmm' spoken into the phone and a smile on her face. She looked ever so slightly shocked, but then not enough to put her off of her stride. She flashed me a momentary enquiring look.
I palmed up, felt flustered and apologised for disturbing her.
No one wants my love.
Before leaving the room, I asked had she spent the night with him.
She said 'No' in a weak fashion. Her eyes looked down and left.
She is not mine.
Welcome to the disappointment.
STBEMNH returned Thursday evening. I had steeled myself for I'm not sure what, but she was easy-enough going and interacted by phone a few times about arrangements for the NoozeHoundette.
Because of a misunderstanding we missed NoozeHoundettes Brownie Sports Day. STBEMNH said she didn't feel like cooking, so we could have Fish & Chips. When it came around it emerged she had rushed out without her purse so could I get it? I didn't really mind and was even trying to dismiss my fears as paranoia.
After I got in, immediately after dinner I tried a few questions about her previous evening.
* Readers of a sensitive or naive disposition should stop reading here; the following tale of woe include details of what real people living together experience and discuss.
She complained that she had come-on again, after only having been on a few weeks previously. I expressed that I hoped she hadn't come-on in her friends bed. She said she hadn't.
As this previously mentioned friend's partner was reportedly very jealous, I curiously asked how come he was away each Wednesday? The answer was a fluff-off "Oh, he goes out with his friends."
Later I asked about the friend's child. What she was like compared to the NoozeHoundette?
- "A really good little girl who does as she's told. Why are you asking all this?" she positively rankled, annoyed at the questioning. A little too irked to be anything other than tell-tale. Or at least sniffing strongly of guilt and awkwardness.
But nonetheless, I had nothing conclusive so left it there. She complained of me coming in and out (she now lives exclusively in the bedroom, not even having her meals downstairs - we sleep separately - me on the couch) and wanted to be left in peace.
I did exactly that. Went downstairs, did some clearing up and left her in peace.
Fussing after the cat she came down, naked. I hadn't seen her naked and upright in sometime; she had lost a bit of weight and looked fantastic. Still trying, I sent her a text telling her how good she looked, disarming it with the additional clause 'in a girly way'.
Sometime later I went to the loo and after popped in to ask her something while I was upstairs.
To borrow a phrase from Cher "...well I lost everything Darlin' then and there..."
It's funny, the total and irrefutable universality of some non-verbal communication and body-language. How the minute you lay your eyes on it you know, unflinchingly, what is before your eyes.
STBEMNH was naked in bed, pulling herself up onto her raised pillows, edging up with her elbows. Her Android was tucked under her left ear, a girlish, cooed 'mmm' spoken into the phone and a smile on her face. She looked ever so slightly shocked, but then not enough to put her off of her stride. She flashed me a momentary enquiring look.
I palmed up, felt flustered and apologised for disturbing her.
I was so overwhelmed with heart-ache I could not speak. Confirmation. Finally.
I paced around the kitchen. I paced around the lounge. I paced from the kitchen to the lounge to the kithcen. I sat down. I stood up. I went to the foot of the stairs. I turned and paced the downstairs once again. I returned to the stairs and ascended them, I burst (gently but briskly) into the room.
"I need to talk to you. Call me when your are off of the phone please."
There was a long delay, I assume the new paramour was told I was being difficult - there was no rush that was for sure.
"Well? What's so important?"
"I love you." I opened "If you are seeing someone else, I can't take it. I can't stay and watch it."
She went into detail how she was not seeing someone. Not defensively, but concluded with,
'yet.'
"We will never be together again NoozeHound. You have done too much; you were right we do not like each other and we have nothing in common."
I will paraphrase her, but her gist was to the effect that I must secure a permanent position, get a loan and get the kitchen fixed up so we can sell the house. Until such time it is best for NoozeHoundette that we stay living separately together for financial reasons.
I paced around the kitchen. I paced around the lounge. I paced from the kitchen to the lounge to the kithcen. I sat down. I stood up. I went to the foot of the stairs. I turned and paced the downstairs once again. I returned to the stairs and ascended them, I burst (gently but briskly) into the room.
"I need to talk to you. Call me when your are off of the phone please."
There was a long delay, I assume the new paramour was told I was being difficult - there was no rush that was for sure.
"Well? What's so important?"
"I love you." I opened "If you are seeing someone else, I can't take it. I can't stay and watch it."
She went into detail how she was not seeing someone. Not defensively, but concluded with,
'yet.'
"We will never be together again NoozeHound. You have done too much; you were right we do not like each other and we have nothing in common."
I will paraphrase her, but her gist was to the effect that I must secure a permanent position, get a loan and get the kitchen fixed up so we can sell the house. Until such time it is best for NoozeHoundette that we stay living separately together for financial reasons.
No one wants my love.
Before leaving the room, I asked had she spent the night with him.
She said 'No' in a weak fashion. Her eyes looked down and left.
She is not mine.
Welcome to the disappointment.
18 June 2010
What A Fool Believes
Yesterday morning STBEMNH walked out of the house with her overnight bag. She barely said a word beyond 'Bye'.
She had arranged to stay at a friend's as she got a date wrong about me travelling on business. Despite me repeatedly saying I was away and back in the sameday she 'got it wrong' and thought NoozeHoundette would stay at her Grand-Mother's.
STBEMH went to some length and added stress to get a sun-bed and her hair cut this week along with two additional mad-dash to shops to get self-tannig liquid. It does seem like an awful lot of trouble to go to stay at a friends.
A brief word on this 'friend'. She is a serial adulteress, who recently wed her long-time partner after being caught out and feared losing him. When she was cheating she had said was staying with STEBMH as cover.
Now firstly it must be made clear that STEBMH could not be cheating on me as we are not what you could call together. I have made, as detailed elsewhere, requests and approaches. Her only response that I have done too much and we will never be together.
But her behaviour and requests, while it would be unfair to consider them overly friendly, would indicate something of an on-going relationship - requesting expensive early birthday presents? Planning days out together as a family?
Confused.com
The coolness of the depature irked me - I don't know what I expected, but she had not seen our daughter to kiss her good-bye nor see me or her for 36 hours. We're not hugging or anything but a little more, I don't know what, observance that there was a parting.
She had arranged to stay at a friend's as she got a date wrong about me travelling on business. Despite me repeatedly saying I was away and back in the sameday she 'got it wrong' and thought NoozeHoundette would stay at her Grand-Mother's.
STBEMH went to some length and added stress to get a sun-bed and her hair cut this week along with two additional mad-dash to shops to get self-tannig liquid. It does seem like an awful lot of trouble to go to stay at a friends.
A brief word on this 'friend'. She is a serial adulteress, who recently wed her long-time partner after being caught out and feared losing him. When she was cheating she had said was staying with STEBMH as cover.
Now firstly it must be made clear that STEBMH could not be cheating on me as we are not what you could call together. I have made, as detailed elsewhere, requests and approaches. Her only response that I have done too much and we will never be together.
But her behaviour and requests, while it would be unfair to consider them overly friendly, would indicate something of an on-going relationship - requesting expensive early birthday presents? Planning days out together as a family?
Confused.com
The coolness of the depature irked me - I don't know what I expected, but she had not seen our daughter to kiss her good-bye nor see me or her for 36 hours. We're not hugging or anything but a little more, I don't know what, observance that there was a parting.
I was overcome with crippling sadness - or so I thought. I was stricken with a very uncomfortable bug that upset my stomache and gave me a soul-shaking chill. The feelings were very similar to the heart-ache I had experienced previously.
The realization that things really were over. I had completely lost her - it hurt. A lot.
She contacted me by phone and email through the day - only domestic, rational stuff.
All day I was wracked with stomach-lurching pain and shivers, my existence shadowed in melancholy. It sounds dramatic, but what else do you call that feeling of wanting to curl up into a ball and cry?
Devil's Advocate - Things are over. By being civil but withdrawn around the house she is demonstrating the separation. By going away to see her lover without rubbing your nose in it or splashing it all over Facebook she is sparing your feelings.
Or you could be paranoid, making all of this conjecture and normal events into a conspiracy.
NoozeHound, not being one to let it lie, suffering a torrid tummy and excess of moribund reasoned further; STBEMNH was an ealy shift - 07:15 - 16:15. Would she wait at work for her friend to finish sticking around at work? Unlikely that her friend would be working a similar shift, she has different role. Or would the early finish provide enough time to perhaps go further afield? She was checking locations surrepticiously on Google maps, so was clearly going somewhere she had not been before.
Again, so what if she was?
You are not together. She hasn't humiliated you with it, flaunting her tryst before you.
After dinner, I asked NoozeHoundette to phone her Mother and say goodnight. Despite my feelings she had not seen her Mother all day and I just wanted her to touch base with her before bed. The phone was not answered. I gave NoozeHoundette my Blackberry and said send Mummy a nice email.
STBEMNH is never without her phone. The first call was from the house-phone, a witheld number - it would have been obvious it was home as there are no other restricted numbers known to us.
The email was sent but not replied to.
There was a phonecall from her this morning. She called to speak to NoozeHoundette. She said her phone was on silent and she also said she was in the shower when it rang and NoozehOundette rang-off before she could answer it. So was it on silent or did you not get there in time? Or were you ignoring calls from home and my phone - becauase...? What...? Didn't really fit the mood? Didn't want to hear from me while with him? Irrespective, she should have phoned the NoozeHoundette. As I said she had not seen her that morning and a call to say 'goodnight' would have been the decent thing to do.
She didn't ask to speak to me, not even 'does Daddy want to speak with me?' to make sure everything was alright with the NoozeHoundette, as any Mother would do.
Perhaps she was avoiding me? Guiltiness? Awkwardness? There was no obvious acrominy between us.
I text her this morning to remind her to take NoozeHoundette to Brownies. No response.
This was all written during Thursday day time; far too long for a FML, more like a...
The realization that things really were over. I had completely lost her - it hurt. A lot.
She contacted me by phone and email through the day - only domestic, rational stuff.
All day I was wracked with stomach-lurching pain and shivers, my existence shadowed in melancholy. It sounds dramatic, but what else do you call that feeling of wanting to curl up into a ball and cry?
Devil's Advocate - Things are over. By being civil but withdrawn around the house she is demonstrating the separation. By going away to see her lover without rubbing your nose in it or splashing it all over Facebook she is sparing your feelings.
Or you could be paranoid, making all of this conjecture and normal events into a conspiracy.
NoozeHound, not being one to let it lie, suffering a torrid tummy and excess of moribund reasoned further; STBEMNH was an ealy shift - 07:15 - 16:15. Would she wait at work for her friend to finish sticking around at work? Unlikely that her friend would be working a similar shift, she has different role. Or would the early finish provide enough time to perhaps go further afield? She was checking locations surrepticiously on Google maps, so was clearly going somewhere she had not been before.
Again, so what if she was?
You are not together. She hasn't humiliated you with it, flaunting her tryst before you.
After dinner, I asked NoozeHoundette to phone her Mother and say goodnight. Despite my feelings she had not seen her Mother all day and I just wanted her to touch base with her before bed. The phone was not answered. I gave NoozeHoundette my Blackberry and said send Mummy a nice email.
STBEMNH is never without her phone. The first call was from the house-phone, a witheld number - it would have been obvious it was home as there are no other restricted numbers known to us.
The email was sent but not replied to.
There was a phonecall from her this morning. She called to speak to NoozeHoundette. She said her phone was on silent and she also said she was in the shower when it rang and NoozehOundette rang-off before she could answer it. So was it on silent or did you not get there in time? Or were you ignoring calls from home and my phone - becauase...? What...? Didn't really fit the mood? Didn't want to hear from me while with him? Irrespective, she should have phoned the NoozeHoundette. As I said she had not seen her that morning and a call to say 'goodnight' would have been the decent thing to do.
She didn't ask to speak to me, not even 'does Daddy want to speak with me?' to make sure everything was alright with the NoozeHoundette, as any Mother would do.
Perhaps she was avoiding me? Guiltiness? Awkwardness? There was no obvious acrominy between us.
I text her this morning to remind her to take NoozeHoundette to Brownies. No response.
This was all written during Thursday day time; far too long for a FML, more like a...
...welcome to the disappointment.
15 June 2010
I'm a little drunk and I need you now
The way things are between STBEMH and I, I heard a song that is spookily appropriate.
At first (and subsequently 'til I tracked it down) hearing, I guessed at it being the Dixie Chicks. Not really being a C&W fan that was pretty good for me, I thought.
I had to grab this version, not the "official video" - embed is disabled by request - so I could place a video...
(Edit - I'm a little confused, because whilst I did pass-out over the keyboard again last night, I had written much more than this...)
Anyway, in case you may think me mad (and who would blame you) I present here my musical reasoning for the above belief that the song may have been some kind of collaboration of some cowboy-type and the afore mentioned Dixie Chicks ...
Or is that just me?
I had read the new-to-me name 'Lady Antebellum' in play-lists and charts and not made the association to this hauntingly beautiful song. That was before even knowing what Antebellum meant: -
Antebellum or ante-bellum (Literally, Latin for "before the war") may refer to:
I just thought it sounded a bit "Indie". An arena where other than cross-over chart success hits, I find little in the way of aural satisfaction. I was going to use Vampire Weekend as a sort of illustration, with regard the naming conventions and musical difficulties that present themselves.
I went off to find an illustrative video, only to find that I actually rather liked what I was going to present as something contrary to my musical tastes. This is something of an anthem I believe, particularly with the welly and wet fields brigade...
So I was rather hoping to do one thing and ended up doing something quite the opposite.
Having established I have a vast capacity for being wrong, I finish with, quite frankly more than a little amazement that many intellects which I have long considered superior to that of the NoozeHound falling somewhat short in consideration of the Gulf Oil Disaster.
As a Brit I feel admittedly a little protective in the face of BP bashing. Not that I have any vested interest, quite to the contrary in a round about way.
To me, away from the ill effects and dreadful US news coverage, it seems one party is getting a free ride in the affair. That party being the ones who granted the rights to drill (against the advice of interested parties); benefited from the granting of said licenses and overtly failed to correctly legislate and monitor safety (and by all accounts common-sense) on the rigs they were benefiting from, namely the Bush administration.
As I have said, I acknowledge my capacity for being wrong, but Obama beating-up BP seems an awfully nice way of not confronting the real issues.
I think that particular little crook, Dubya, might go down in history as the teflon-covered prez.
Welcome to the disappointment.
At first (and subsequently 'til I tracked it down) hearing, I guessed at it being the Dixie Chicks. Not really being a C&W fan that was pretty good for me, I thought.
I had to grab this version, not the "official video" - embed is disabled by request - so I could place a video...
(Edit - I'm a little confused, because whilst I did pass-out over the keyboard again last night, I had written much more than this...)
Anyway, in case you may think me mad (and who would blame you) I present here my musical reasoning for the above belief that the song may have been some kind of collaboration of some cowboy-type and the afore mentioned Dixie Chicks ...
Or is that just me?
I had read the new-to-me name 'Lady Antebellum' in play-lists and charts and not made the association to this hauntingly beautiful song. That was before even knowing what Antebellum meant: -
Antebellum or ante-bellum (Literally, Latin for "before the war") may refer to:
- Generally, Pre-war; the time period preceding a war.
- In the United States of America, the term refers to pre-Civil War America, especially the pre-Civil War culture in the southern states. Specifically, the era in the history of the United States after the American Revolution and the establishment of the U.S. as a sovereign nation, yet before the U.S. Civil War. Example: Slavery was an accepted part of antebellum plantation life.
- Antebellum architecture, the neoclassical architectural style of the American South during the Antebellum era.
- Lady Antebellum, an American country music group.
I just thought it sounded a bit "Indie". An arena where other than cross-over chart success hits, I find little in the way of aural satisfaction. I was going to use Vampire Weekend as a sort of illustration, with regard the naming conventions and musical difficulties that present themselves.
I went off to find an illustrative video, only to find that I actually rather liked what I was going to present as something contrary to my musical tastes. This is something of an anthem I believe, particularly with the welly and wet fields brigade...
So I was rather hoping to do one thing and ended up doing something quite the opposite.
* * *
I have Electric Sheep. I had rather hoped I might benefit from some Electric Lamb Chops (English Lamb being so dear and all) - no such luck. I was slightly surprised by the small variety - it being on limitless Linux and all. Winamp visualizations have far greater variety.* * *
Having established I have a vast capacity for being wrong, I finish with, quite frankly more than a little amazement that many intellects which I have long considered superior to that of the NoozeHound falling somewhat short in consideration of the Gulf Oil Disaster.
As a Brit I feel admittedly a little protective in the face of BP bashing. Not that I have any vested interest, quite to the contrary in a round about way.
To me, away from the ill effects and dreadful US news coverage, it seems one party is getting a free ride in the affair. That party being the ones who granted the rights to drill (against the advice of interested parties); benefited from the granting of said licenses and overtly failed to correctly legislate and monitor safety (and by all accounts common-sense) on the rigs they were benefiting from, namely the Bush administration.
As I have said, I acknowledge my capacity for being wrong, but Obama beating-up BP seems an awfully nice way of not confronting the real issues.
I think that particular little crook, Dubya, might go down in history as the teflon-covered prez.
Welcome to the disappointment.
12 June 2010
The Naughty Step
Tonight, I want to be Somebody's Somebody. I do.
When you accidentally (and trust me I didn't mean to and rather wish I hadn't) discovered your former lover checking locations on Google maps it hurts.
When she is still up and on her computer quite some time after she has said she would be going to bed - you wonder what is keeping her up?"
I hate myself.
I was never jealous when we were together, but the torture I experience each and every day is far beyond anything I have previously felt.
There were times when younger men than I would crowd around her trying to dance with(what was then) my lady. These days I am scared of shadows let alone threatened by younger suitors.
"I close my eyes then I won't see - the love you don't feel when you look at me."
What romantic clap-trap that is.
Prince; trust me - the first thing to go is the physical relationship.
It cools quickly. Cools to such a degree that it feels awkward even considering touching each other in a sexual way.
That hurts too - where once the fires burned so brightly; so consistently. Now there are just the corporation signs prohibiting bonfires and the burning of rubbish.
Right now (and all of today - you see she sort of needed me last night - subsequently discovered she neither needs me nor wants me - merely used me as available labour - I'm riding the crest, as it were) I feel like I'm sort of 'sitting-on-the-naughty-step' of unwanted.
Of course, at time of writing the facts have proven this to be false; she needed me. For a brief moment. It passed so quickly.
For a moment. For that moment she didn't even mind being close to me.
I'm kind of meh about Bon Jovi - like the hits, leave the rest. 'Always' applies to all of the un-resolved emotions surging though me.
Another track, discovered in the midst of another break-up (funny how Dublin Airport is always a key-player in my most serious break-ups) is 'Bed of Roses'.
The lines
"...this morning I don't know.
Well a bottle of Vodka still lies in my hands
and some blonde gives me nightmares
to think that she's still in my bed;
As I dream about movies
they won't make of me when I'm dead."
No rock star I. Those events; whilst I (were I less of a gentleman) testify to their efficacy, did not happen all in one tale. - Leastways, not in my life.
However, I have always nestled comfortable in the knowledge that cinematic treasures will not issue forth from me shuffling off this mortal coil.
You get to a certain age and you realise you simply are not James Dean, Pele, Bill Gates or Steve Jobs.
Let's face it - if you enjoy the infamy of these guys, you are doing well.
This page is dedicated to you. Especially if you have come here still believing (despite not singing in a band nor playing an instrument, having any sort of acting role, being even considered for a photo-shoot) maybe, just maybe, you are the next big thing....
...YOU'RE NOT.
Alright?
But hey, at least your girlfriend isn't checking out the location of her next lover's farm.
But if your love life has hit that metaphorically savagely jagged reef. upon which mine has run aground? Well, what can I say?
Shuffle up!
Make some room over there!
Welcome to the disappointment.
- add to that I got so drunk I passed out before pressing PUBLISH POST.
I have edited for sense and language but not content - if you read a drunk old fool - welcome to the disappointment.
When you accidentally (and trust me I didn't mean to and rather wish I hadn't) discovered your former lover checking locations on Google maps it hurts.
When she is still up and on her computer quite some time after she has said she would be going to bed - you wonder what is keeping her up?"
I hate myself.
I was never jealous when we were together, but the torture I experience each and every day is far beyond anything I have previously felt.
There were times when younger men than I would crowd around her trying to dance with(what was then) my lady. These days I am scared of shadows let alone threatened by younger suitors.
"I close my eyes then I won't see - the love you don't feel when you look at me."
What romantic clap-trap that is.
Prince; trust me - the first thing to go is the physical relationship.
It cools quickly. Cools to such a degree that it feels awkward even considering touching each other in a sexual way.
That hurts too - where once the fires burned so brightly; so consistently. Now there are just the corporation signs prohibiting bonfires and the burning of rubbish.
Right now (and all of today - you see she sort of needed me last night - subsequently discovered she neither needs me nor wants me - merely used me as available labour - I'm riding the crest, as it were) I feel like I'm sort of 'sitting-on-the-naughty-step' of unwanted.
Of course, at time of writing the facts have proven this to be false; she needed me. For a brief moment. It passed so quickly.
For a moment. For that moment she didn't even mind being close to me.
I'm kind of meh about Bon Jovi - like the hits, leave the rest. 'Always' applies to all of the un-resolved emotions surging though me.
Another track, discovered in the midst of another break-up (funny how Dublin Airport is always a key-player in my most serious break-ups) is 'Bed of Roses'.
The lines
"...this morning I don't know.
Well a bottle of Vodka still lies in my hands
and some blonde gives me nightmares
to think that she's still in my bed;
As I dream about movies
they won't make of me when I'm dead."
No rock star I. Those events; whilst I (were I less of a gentleman) testify to their efficacy, did not happen all in one tale. - Leastways, not in my life.
However, I have always nestled comfortable in the knowledge that cinematic treasures will not issue forth from me shuffling off this mortal coil.
You get to a certain age and you realise you simply are not James Dean, Pele, Bill Gates or Steve Jobs.
Let's face it - if you enjoy the infamy of these guys, you are doing well.
This page is dedicated to you. Especially if you have come here still believing (despite not singing in a band nor playing an instrument, having any sort of acting role, being even considered for a photo-shoot) maybe, just maybe, you are the next big thing....
...YOU'RE NOT.
Alright?
But hey, at least your girlfriend isn't checking out the location of her next lover's farm.
But if your love life has hit that metaphorically savagely jagged reef. upon which mine has run aground? Well, what can I say?
Shuffle up!
Make some room over there!
Welcome to the disappointment.
- add to that I got so drunk I passed out before pressing PUBLISH POST.
I have edited for sense and language but not content - if you read a drunk old fool - welcome to the disappointment.
9 June 2010
It's A Booty Call
Greetings from the land of the NoozeHound.
Regular reader. Yes you, skulking in the corner. I have achieved "dog-licking-balls" status. That is to say the cash-poor geekly-affluent status of having a dual-boot Vista Business(+ Full Aero)/10.04 Lucid Lynx new (to me - but costing nought) PC is now a reality.
(Pretty low-level geekery really - fixing the wi-fi issue at work felt better, but hay-ho.)
I am on self-destruct again this evening. I would like added to the record, that. should I opt for a self-determined concluding chapter, I would like to opt for 'The Rock-St@r', with the full selection pack.
Hedonist, to the literal end, my justification for this; I am most likely damned anyway, so go out on a bang! More details on this if and when I feel necessary.
Yes, where was I? Oh yes, 'self-destruct...'
I left you, having announced that I had (roundabout) pre-proposed to (STBEMNH) by text. I didn't want to actually propose by text - too much lacking of class - but I hammered home (with a glass hammer) the implication that it was on the cards....
The esS -to-the-Tee, Bee-to-the EMN. aitcH-to the Hound of LURVE ...well, 'My Friend'. When approached head-on about my text, her response.......?
"That was really controlling. I only just arrive and I get all these textstes (sic). - You know I hate mushy stuff anyway."
In my defence; she has always said my text get to her, effectively, after the event. E.G - buy *stuff* - text arrives when @ home.
So, 15 minutes after she pulled out the drive, I am sending first txt-spk "hv a grt nt"; then 'literal' - "I have been a bad boyfriend perhaps I could be a better husband" (sub-context to the max).
So, guess what [stop] [stop] [stop] in your head put on one of the female impressionist Aussie drawl (as opposed to no Aussie non-drawl) accents....
So? guess what? No 'Ansa'? No fuck'n answer? Nuthin...!'
(Well, we've been here before...) "I don't like slushy texts."
So. I try to make nice. Mr Jolly (that's me).
(Not in a deadly clown kinda way)
Cups of Tea/ Nice dinners/Bathroom Cleaning\Early Birthday Present Buying
That last one really fucking confuses me:
"Ooh! if you want to buy me an early birthday present - I want this" (show picture of telly)
[NoozeHound surreptitiously compares deal to ensure optimum value then sneaks out buys it and sets it up and puts it it place while she's distracted.]
But wait, What is that about
"...we hate each other? We will never get on? You reject every penny I have paid to service this relationship and demand instead retribution for every penny you have contributed? "
"Hey! No fair! I cry."
"Oh well. I was trying to be nice...Now things will get nasty..."
* * *
Tonight, in my presence, she received her first booty call.
She went to a re-union at the weekend. She complained of her friend getting chatted-up and snoring - they shared a room.
Tuesday evening she takes a call on her mobile. I am in the room. She smiles, alluringly (at the phone) - I remember it, if no longer feel it any more. She tries desperately to fight past me to take the call.
I act awkwardly.
"What's your problem?" She shouts boldly. Too boldly.
Thinking quickly I respond - "Your weird behaviour. That's my problem."
She plays the privacy card - GUILTY.
"You're standing over me looking at my laptop, listening to my phone calls."
"No, I'm putting my clothes away."
*
It's obvious. She has met a young man at the party. Good luck with this.
But please...
I have asked you to divorce counselling.
I have asked you to marry me - pretty much.
I DO STILL LOVE YOU (this was before it was apparent she was on the prowl)
Now you take calls unscheduled, awkward calls from your new beau.
I was never jealous before; now my heart bleeds burning open wounds, bilging fire from their gaping wounds. Combusting steams from the merest inhalation of the classic machinery.
Rockstar my beloved. A fucking Rockstar.
Regular reader. Yes you, skulking in the corner. I have achieved "dog-licking-balls" status. That is to say the cash-poor geekly-affluent status of having a dual-boot Vista Business(+ Full Aero)/10.04 Lucid Lynx new (to me - but costing nought) PC is now a reality.
(Pretty low-level geekery really - fixing the wi-fi issue at work felt better, but hay-ho.)
I am on self-destruct again this evening. I would like added to the record, that. should I opt for a self-determined concluding chapter, I would like to opt for 'The Rock-St@r', with the full selection pack.
Hedonist, to the literal end, my justification for this; I am most likely damned anyway, so go out on a bang! More details on this if and when I feel necessary.
Yes, where was I? Oh yes, 'self-destruct...'
I left you, having announced that I had (roundabout) pre-proposed to (STBEMNH) by text. I didn't want to actually propose by text - too much lacking of class - but I hammered home (with a glass hammer) the implication that it was on the cards....
The esS -to-the-Tee, Bee-to-the EMN. aitcH-to the Hound of LURVE ...well, 'My Friend'. When approached head-on about my text, her response.......?
"That was really controlling. I only just arrive and I get all these textstes (sic). - You know I hate mushy stuff anyway."
In my defence; she has always said my text get to her, effectively, after the event. E.G - buy *stuff* - text arrives when @ home.
So, 15 minutes after she pulled out the drive, I am sending first txt-spk "hv a grt nt"; then 'literal' - "I have been a bad boyfriend perhaps I could be a better husband" (sub-context to the max).
So, guess what [stop] [stop] [stop] in your head put on one of the female impressionist Aussie drawl (as opposed to no Aussie non-drawl) accents....
So? guess what? No 'Ansa'? No fuck'n answer? Nuthin...!'
(Well, we've been here before...) "I don't like slushy texts."
So. I try to make nice. Mr Jolly (that's me).
(Not in a deadly clown kinda way)
Cups of Tea/ Nice dinners/Bathroom Cleaning\Early Birthday Present Buying
That last one really fucking confuses me:
"Ooh! if you want to buy me an early birthday present - I want this" (show picture of telly)
[NoozeHound surreptitiously compares deal to ensure optimum value then sneaks out buys it and sets it up and puts it it place while she's distracted.]
But wait, What is that about
"...we hate each other? We will never get on? You reject every penny I have paid to service this relationship and demand instead retribution for every penny you have contributed? "
"Hey! No fair! I cry."
"Oh well. I was trying to be nice...Now things will get nasty..."
* * *
Tonight, in my presence, she received her first booty call.
She went to a re-union at the weekend. She complained of her friend getting chatted-up and snoring - they shared a room.
Tuesday evening she takes a call on her mobile. I am in the room. She smiles, alluringly (at the phone) - I remember it, if no longer feel it any more. She tries desperately to fight past me to take the call.
I act awkwardly.
"What's your problem?" She shouts boldly. Too boldly.
Thinking quickly I respond - "Your weird behaviour. That's my problem."
She plays the privacy card - GUILTY.
"You're standing over me looking at my laptop, listening to my phone calls."
"No, I'm putting my clothes away."
*
It's obvious. She has met a young man at the party. Good luck with this.
But please...
I have asked you to divorce counselling.
I have asked you to marry me - pretty much.
I DO STILL LOVE YOU (this was before it was apparent she was on the prowl)
Now you take calls unscheduled, awkward calls from your new beau.
I was never jealous before; now my heart bleeds burning open wounds, bilging fire from their gaping wounds. Combusting steams from the merest inhalation of the classic machinery.
Rockstar my beloved. A fucking Rockstar.