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.

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.

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. 

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.

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...

...welcome to the disappointment.

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:
 

• 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.

Hmmm..............? So what does that say about them? Does it leave me with 'Sun City' issues of conscience. Oh Dear.

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. 

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.

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. 

Adjectives Beyond Bad

... bad is an adjective to describe a condition or state.

abominable, amiss, atrocious, awful, bad news,beastly, blah*, bottom out, bummer, careless,cheap, cheesy*, crappy*, cruddy, crummy,defective, deficient, diddly, dissatisfactory,downer, dreadful, erroneous, fallacious, faulty,garbage, godawful, grody, gross*, grungy, icky,imperfect, inadequate, incorrect, inferior, junky,lousy*, not good, off, poor, raunchy*, rough,sad, slipshod, stinking, substandard, synthetic,the pits, unacceptable, unsatisfactory.

It's not good.

Having consumed what I believed to be every drop of alcohol in the house, I was incorrect. It was something of a downer to discover my poor efforts failed with the discovery of half a bottle of San Miguel and a few shots of brandy remaining in the bottle.


Now I feel approximating lousy.


All of the following tale of woe unfolded before I touched a drop.

Last night. Because she parks so inconveniently, rather than risk causing offence (people can be funny) I offered to move (STBEMH) car for her. I got in and promptly drove straight forward into a post pushing in the bumper and breaking the wheel arch - a result of pushing in the bumper I suspect. The 'girls' were on their way out for a big, long-planned night out. They were using STEBEMH's car and I parked the damaged vehicle with damage facing away. Nothing could be done last night and I decided that my evening was already ruined, there was no sense in ruining more people's evenings with knowledge of the unfortunate events.


I have yet to advise of the damage - that little joy faces me.


In addition I sent some texts last night. I had discussed with a friend the unfortunate state of my love life. She propositioned that STBEMH was perhaps feeling unloved. I had come to a similar consideration myself a few weeks previously.


STBEMH had been proclaiming with some regularity how she was not married. Last night I sent three texts.


The first, in text speak, to ask her if she arrived safely and hoping she had a great time.


The second and third a long message (in text terms, hence two) advising my regrets at the situation and my past behaviour and the mention of the consideration of marriage.


Late last night I texted her accompanying friend to ask if she STBEMH had received the texts.


Apparently the lack of response was the answer.


It reads more like a cross between FML and Texts from Last Night.


Prepare yourself, dear reader, make yourself comfortable... Welcome to the disappointment.

Liar! Liar! Pants on Fire!

I was in two minds whether to post or not.

Despite the title, this is not intended to be my personal whinge forum. Nor is it, regardless of the diminutive (non-existent?) readership, intended to be a personal journal.

Life is pretty uncomfortable at the moment. Work seems to be going very well. Personally, not so well.

A regular reader, having overcome the total shock of yesterday, may well have tired of my emotional torture all ready.

But then any regular reader will also recall me showing my hand some months ago. If you are still wondering - because of course, the emotional state of the NoozeHound is sure to play on the mind of any blog-reader - I cried because I realised that I would never in my life have relationship like that.

I was sort of flirt-mailing with (STBEMH) today. It took me back to happier days. It was of course simply a projection on my part. A later phone call, fraught with all of the long-endured resentment that runs like a major tributary through the wreckage of our relationship put paid to any romantic notions I may have been nursing.

Later still, when she asked me about Skype for talking to an ex-lover who (she said) seems a bit depressed  I was, if possible, even more aware that said notions were subject to the gravest ridicule.

I will stress here, that A) I am simply not the jealous type and have little to fear regarding a fairly unreliable married family-man many miles away; B) The techie in me would have helped her install Skype and lent her a head-set, or at the very minimum sent her an install link despite the prospect; and C) she says (on Facebook) she is single - so who the heck am I to have the remotest idea that I can tell her who she may or may not speak, text, video-chat with?

So this awkwardness continues - for me. STBEMH seems fairly oblivious, or at least better able to deal with the the bizarre and emotionally debilitating nature of the situation. Or perhaps her game is of the long variety - she has already connived an 'early birthday present' - "give it to me now, (you will be gone before my birthday?)"

Also a 'family' trip to the beach - "I drove; I will take your offer to treat (buy picnic lunch, 'bargain' clothing offers, ladies periodicals, teas, ice-creams and buckets and spades) and expect you to entertain NoozeHoundette for the whole time I sun-bathe - sucker!"

Oh the joy of those family days out!

Wow! This has grown in length and time to type/booze consumed.

The headline - in old money, was me getting turned over by e-harmony (f*ck-em, they'll get no link from me )

After seeing enough of their English or hyper-professionally  filmed/dubbed international commercials; and following yesterdays post review (Google adds offering pre-sentient  promotion of 'older women dating'. I feel dirty for both of us) I went to e-harmony - find your matches....blah blah blah.

OK, I was curious (famous last words if ever there were any). My (sort of) current lover (?), significant other, doesn't want me. So hypothetically, after hearing/seeing the e-hegmony (UK) adds - and sitting in front of, not one, but three live computers, I thought "OK. I'm buying it. What 'relationship matches' do you have for me?"

Well, here was the thing. One of the very first questions asked is your relationship status.

"OK, nothing gained from dressing up the facts..." (I answered: separated).

I proceeded to answer page after page of psychological questions - save and exit? or, save and continue? - save and continue...

...and on and on it went; 1-6 are you generous? - and so on and very demanding.

- Nothin'  ventured, nothin' gained...

"What sort o' match? What sort o' match?

OUR terms and conditions state clearly our service is for singles - you have indicated you are separated - you fail FAIL FAIL FAIL (you scrotes! Wasting so much of my time like that for nought!) as such we cannot under our terms offer you a match but here is a bullshit report :

"YOU ARE AGREEABLE"

- Oh no, trust me; I am so not agreeable you bunch of turd biscuits...DEATH/BLOOD/PAIN/AGONY/DEATH/DIE/DIE/DIE!

Mucho time wasted on account of my honesty - fuck you e-match-dot-con.

So if you're looking for love and eastern European love-slaves ; e-harmony is pants.

After completing (In detail) my requirements I get not even a suggestion of fair maiden merely a poxy report.

EDIT  - I passed out/fell asleep at that point and can't now pick up the thread. The crux, as you will probably have guessed is even 'the relationship sight' blew me out. - welcome to the disappointment.