Divorce and Getting Fucked By The Law

This is the way it is suppose to work

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It doesn’t work that way despite what you might believe.

Going through this divorce I am finding out a lot about the laws of this state and frankly  in this case, after 31+ years of marriage I am going to get law fucked. In California, the law is regards to divorce is this:  what you inherit it is yours alone if you leave a good paper trail.

So, say you inherit money as a 20 yo and you divorce at 70 (you were married 50 years) if you can show a paper trail of where your money went (we bought a house, etc) then it is all yours 50 years later. It doesn’t matter if you co-mingled funds or put both of your names on the deed to the house, you get your money back.  So if you put $100,000 down on a house and 50 years later the house is still worth $100,000 you get it. If you put $100,000 down on a house and 50 years later the house is worth $200,000, you get your $100,000 back plus 1/2 of the $100,000 increase in value.

Thirteen years ago, B’s father died and left him some money. Out of the 6 sibs he was the only one who was named in the will because the other children had nothing to do with him (except for one who a few years before he died began to have contact with him.) Only B and I had a relationship with him. We talked on the phone, went to dinner, had him spend time with us, etc. When he was sick I took him groceries and made him meals.  I spent more time with him than B. And after buying two houses, I find out that I am not entitled to them. Even after years of being on the deed, paying half the taxes, utilities, etc. which means in the divorce I am going to come out a loser. Big time. Worse, I think he elected to stay in Ca instead of move to WI or Tx when we had the chance for just this reason.

Really, I never thought that this would happen. Here my husband has been having an affair for four years, sent the playmate approx. $50,000 USD in cash, presents, trips, etc. I can’t get that back but he can get back what is in my name and has been for years.

To say I am upset at this situation is an understatement but at the same time my hands are tied. I can only hope that my husband realizes that the children will be watching how he treats me, that his father would be disgusted with him and that God might have a few choice words for him too.

 

THOUGHTS ON BETRAYAL

I tried to write a piece on betrayal but I was afraid I was going to short circuit my computer due to all the tears. So I decided to do the next best thing…share some of my new found quotes on the subject. And a few prize worthy ones on different subjects.

 

P.S. To all you who follow this blog, today I went to the doc and had my blood drawn for an AIDS test….see sometimes I do listen!

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Childhood Trauma

Home Alone Horror

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Home Alone is one of the most seen movies in the world. Although it was made years ago, you can always find it on one channel or another because it is a family favorite. It is funny and it makes you laugh out loud…unless it comes to roost in our own life. Then it ain’t so funny!

B and I were heading home from New York the other day after a wonderful weekend anniversary trip. Though we had been through two years of a “maybe” divorce, this weekend felt like we were in love again. That is when the sitter texted me.

I JUST LOOKED AT MY WORK SCHEDULE AND I HAVE TO WORK TONIGHT. I WILL NEED TO LEAVE AT 10 p.m.

“THAT IS FINE,” I texted back. “WE WILL BE HOME FROM THE AIRPORT AROUND 10:15 .SO IT ISN’T REALLY A PROBLEM”…until it was.

Standing in the crappy line with a GROUP 6 boarding ticket while annoying, is not a problem. Usually. Unless, you step on everyone’s toes and piss them off, while trying to maneuver yourself  back to the cockpit to get your suitcase checked because all the overhead bin space is taken. Placing your belongs in the overhead bin…no problem…for the GROUP 1-5 passengers. GROUP 6…FORGET IT! Fastening my seatbelt was easy as pie as my anti-anxiety “fear of flying” pill kicked in.  Everything was going as expected until these words were uttered by the cute and spunky stewardess whom everyone suddenly looked like they wanted to slap:

” PLEASE RETRIEVE YOUR BELONGINGS AS EVERYONE WILL NEED TO DEPLANE. THERE IS A PROBLEM WITH THE EMERGENCY SLIDE AND GROUND MAINTENANCE HAS TO BE CALLED TO FIX THE ISSUE.”

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Now I will confess I try to keep positive in these types of situations. I mean, after all, it is better to be riding on a “fixed” plane than a “broken” one. But an emergency slide? Really? I mean how often are they used anyway?. Hell, I thought, if there turns out to be an issue, I will gladly stand at the open slide-less door and just toss people out onto the ground below. Problem fixed. Now, let’s get this freaking show on the road!

A collective groan so loud it nearly popped the rivets holding the plane together ensued. This was followed by a sound reminiscent of a herd of lumbering and pissed-off elephants starting back up the gangway.

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Faces that had been smiling only 5 minutes previous were now pinched and drawn. The variety of cuss words I overheard was astounding and during the race to the customer service center several people nearly lost there lives. Frankly, there was not enough free alcohol in the entire terminal that could cheer up this downcast and angry crowd.

As B and I stood in the wrap-around line waiting to talk to that poor unlucky agent who had been plucked by the previous 50 ticket holders; it finally dawned on us that we had a problem. A serious one.  We only had an hour layover after we landed before we were to catch our final plane home. Unfortunately, this was the last plane for the night we were soon to discover.  Suddenly, were having our own HOME ALONE moment and nothing about it was the least bit entertaining.

Now being home alone is okay in our household during the day but certainly not overnight. We knew that Andre wouldn’t care as long as he could lay around in his underwear eating chips without being bothered by anyone. Change is hard for kids with autism but as long as there is food available and no one around to boss him around; Andre was happy.

Paul started crying over the telephone. The unknown is difficult for him but an unexpected change of plans is a catastrophe. . Let’s just say this didn’t fit into his scheme of things and the breakdown started.

Gracie…well, she isn’t one for being away from her Mommy and Daddy…especially at night. But we knew she would suck it up if she had to.

And so we started calling everyone we knew as the minutes started ticking away. 10 minutes late. 20 minutes. 40 minutes. 50 minutes…which was the point of no return. We were now officially screwed. Finally, an hour and 40 minutes later we lifted off unsure of what the future held…except that most likely Children’s Protective Services might be giving us a visit in the near future.

As nicely as I could I explained our situation to the stewardess. HOME ALONE.  TWO WITH AUTISM. MELTDOWN.

“Would you like a beverage?” she responded cheerfully.

I was tempted to ask for a double scotch on the rocks but decided that a drunk absentee parent was most certainly worse than a sober one when talking to government officials. Therefore, I took my seat,  bought the WI-FI service for $29.95 and sent out a plea for help on Facebook. I am happy to report that by the time we landed, I had three friends offer to help and a neighbor who informed me that she would take the kids to school. These are the times in life when “do unto others as you would have them do onto you” suddenly takes on a whole new meaning.

Flying five hours across the country we still had hope that we would make our flight but it was not to be. So we took our food vouchers and ate dinner in the airport, then took the shuttle bus to our hotel and finally settled in to watch a movie. When we turned on the t.v, guess what was being shown? Yep, you’re right… it just happened to be HOME ALONE. That apparently is the way we roll.

 

 

 

Sitting In the Silence

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I don’t do silence well. I do limbo even worse. I don’t like surprises, boys who wear their pants to their knees and men who cheat. I don’t like bologna, sweat pants and gossip. But lately, most of all, I don’t like silence. And lately I have found that within two seconds of quiet I usually fall asleep. Silence also hurts my ears, my sonar, pinging off distant objects trying to track where the stillness is going and what it might lead to.

Recently my therapist, Pema Chodron, and Chel Hamilton have convinced me that I have lots to learn about myself and that sitting with silence may be a key component in my thirst for self awareness and knowledge. I have struggled as I have realized that quietness has brought with it anxiety and fear as I travel this journey called a M.A.Y.B.E. D.I.V.O.R.C.E.

One of the things that I have been trying to learn while sitting in silence is to stop pushing for my desired outcome. I am realizing that I need to let what happens do so in a natural way without undo interference.

Another thing I am working on is to learn to observe rather than act. Acting is fraught with incorrect assumptions and interpretations which often come back to bite me in the butt. But observing when undisturbed gives me a chance for clarity as there is nothing to muck things up.

But perhaps the most important thing I have to do is to train myself to do is to sit in the silence and just be comfortable with it.

Why?

I am told that sitting in/with the silence will teach me to say the things that are important to say rather than chattering away to fill up empty space. The problem with idle chatter is that it is not thought through in a way that provides clarity and offers truth. Rather it often causes more problems due to misunderstanding of what has been said in a haphazard manner.

They also tell me that by sitting in silence it will reduce negative thoughts and shape my thinking in a way that brings greater understanding and peace. By noticing my thoughts and the immediate reaction that occurs upon feeling them; I am told I can let go of those ideas that no longer serve me well. Hypnotist Chel Hamilton has me repeating “Cancel, cancel, cancel” every time a negative thought pops into my head and then replacing that negative with non-emotional observations and it is working. While I was originally “cancel, cancel, canceling” so many times a day I lost count; in the past three days the numbers have come down and I am actually feeling more positive overall.

Sitting with silence is a new concept for me and its a difficult one for someone who likes to put everything under the microscope and examine it in fine detail. But with a soft butt pillow and some duck tape I think I may just be able to pull it off…if I don’t fall asleep first.

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Hollow Victory…311 Days to Fix This

We talk all day

We talk all night

Maybe that’s good

Maybe not right

Seems I am trying to force

An outcome

Instead of sitting in the silence of what isimages

And letting what happens…happen

On its own

Without my input

Or any artificial colors, preservatives or (l)dyes

But there is a major problem…

I don’t do limbo well

THEN

In the morning you come to me

Phone held tightly in your right hand

You show me your password

I turn my head

I don’t want to see

A hollow victory

For the sadness that lives in the lines around your eyes

The numbers mean nothing to me anymore

Why I ask? Why are you doing this?

It really doesn’t mean anything to me, he replies

But it means the world to you

It’s a small thing to do

When it is such a big hurt to you

And when he smiles

Some of the sorrow leaves the lines around his eyes

And I feel guilty for putting it there

For fighting for our marriage

Causing lines, scars, tears, misery

Refusing to give in to our marriage’s premature death

Refusing to pick out a casket

For today I see life and love

And I know we are okay for this moment

And that’s enough for me

Right now