Feelings, Friends, and.....other stuff.

Happy New Year!  :)  This post is dedicated to Alicia, Megan, and Bridget <3

"Burned out" is the only way I can describe how I felt during the first half of 2011.  Spinning my wheels, going nowhere.  Stuck, metaphorically, in a snow bank at the end of my driveway in the dead of winter after my AAA membership expired.  I was tired of feeling trapped and confused and depressed.  I was capable of so much more because deep down, I knew I was smart.  Too smart, actually, to put up with the bullshit that I had dealt with.  I may have even been a little talented in something, although I wasn't sure what it was yet.   I mean, I knew I was talented in choosing the wrong men to invest a relationship in, but there doesn't seem to be any money in that.  

On May 25th (my 29th birthday),  I finally did something for myself that would enrich my life and also kick start my career. 


I enrolled in beauty school.  




Well, more specifically, esthetician school.  A few years back, I realized how much I loved make-up and thought it would be super fun to make a career out of it.  Unfortunately, in order to receive the respect as a make-up artist, you need a license to fall back on for credibility's sake.  When I got to school though, I really became interested in the physiology of skin.  Skin is cool!  (Stop going tanning!)  Science never excited me before, and I surprised myself.  Now that I'm almost done with school, I feel as though I can pursue any avenue that my future license will cover and be completely content.   So that's......something. 


The only support that I received when I registered for school though, was from my mother and close friends.  The husband didn't seem to care, which I had grown accustomed to at that point.   We separated in July.  The details to our separation are quite complicated, so I'm not going to share them.  We disagree about how things went down, and that's fine.  We disagreed on several things, so this isn't new territory for either of us.  When we split, there was still an inkling of hope within both of us that we would somehow work things out, that we would make a fresh start, and keep the family together.  Sadly, the fact of the matter is, we're too different.  He has an entirely different outlook on life than I do, and I can't be with someone who isn't on the same page as me. 


After we separated, we still texted occasionally but it was apparent that he was doing his own thing, so I decided to keep doing mine.  The best thing I ever could have done last summer was reconnect with old friends.  I've literally been sitting here for about 20 minutes trying to put into words what they've done for me.  And that's just it, I can't.   Well, maybe I can.

WARNING:  Things are about to get sappy.


I've never truly felt like I belonged with groups of friends that I've had.  Ok, I'm just going to say it......... I'm a little weird.  I have a really sick, sarcastic, dry, but sometimes goofy sense of humor that not a lot of people understand.  And I love Broadway musicals.   My friends GET me.  I can totally be myself and not worry about what they're going to say about me behind my back, because they will say it to my face instead.  We respect each other, we support each other, and most of all, we come bearing wine and tasty snacks when one of us feels shitty.  We raise each other up, instead of bring each other down, like most girlfriends secretly do when they're jealous (I think that's what "frenemies" are).  I don't know if they'll ever realize what they've done for me, but they basically brought me back to life.  I just hope that I get the opportunity to do the same for them someday.  Put the tissues down.


Fabulous friendships aside, I was still nursing a broken heart.  I missed the good parts of our marriage and the spark I felt when he sneaked up behind me to give me a hug. But I don't think I'm alone when I say that when you're married to the same person, attention from someone other than your spouse is taken to heart.  That was my case, anyway.  I felt so badly about myself.  I wasn't sure if I was still attractive and, because my husband had emotionally strayed, I wasn't even sure if my personality was going to get me anywhere.

But I put myself out there..........waaaaaay out there.  In retrospect, it was premature.  I went out to the bar with my friends, and I shamelessly flirted and hooked up with guys.  In a more classy and respectful way of saying it, my parents would not have been proud of me if they were privy to all of my........shenanigans. But  I felt empowered and completely free.  I still had game, even after a dramatic weight gain and emotional starvation.  Although, I was 2 cocktails away from putting my phone number on a bathroom wall.

Feelings of emptiness began creeping in sooner than I expected.  Even though I thought I had all the control and that I was using attention from men to make me feel better about myself, I still felt used.  I actually wanted someone to say to me, "I just really dig your personality."  I know! Pathetic, right?!  What a crappy place to be in, emotionally.  I was a mess.  Every time I looked in the mirror, I was disgusted.  I seriously needed a haircut.  And a makeover.....of my soul.


Not to mention the fact, I was still legally married.

Baby, It Ain't Over Til It's Over......

****Sorry about the wait for this entry, my darlings!  Wrapping up school, dealing with sick kids, and a pending divorce are quite time consuming.  Read on.....


April 2011

After my dad's passing, life had slightly gone back to normal.  My husband eventually found another job and even though it was only part time, it was something.  In an attempt to save money where we could, I looked into changing our phone plan.  So naturally, the best time to look into this was while I was at work.  It was a particularly slow day, so I went on our mobile carrier's website to take a look at our plan.  I noticed that the number of text messages my husband had sent and received was double my number.  At first, I thought it was a mistake.  Who the hell could a guy be texting that much?

Then, my heart sank.  Was it really happening again? I tried not to jump to conclusions and wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but I just HAD to look at his phone records.  That's the thing about snooping.  Once you start, it's really hard to stop.  The possibilities of what you could find are endless in these types of situations.  I almost didn't want to know the truth, but I knew that I would constantly be tempted.  So I looked. 

Texts between him and a phone number that I did not recognize had occurred almost daily, back and forth.  The amount of messages peaked during the hours I was at work, slowed while I was at home, then peaked again during the time I would relax and try to sleep.  

So I did what any psycho would have done.  I googled the phone number, paid $5, and was given the name and location of the subscriber.  I recognized the name. It was a girl who my husband alleged was his friend, although I had never met her and knew very little of her.  She was an ex-girlfriend of an old work buddy of his.  While I was away at work (with the car), my husband was honest and told me that she sometimes dropped off food or cigarettes to him, which I found a little odd.   Why was she taking the time to do my husband favors?  If he needed cigarettes, why wasn't he asking me to get them? The only other thing I knew of this girl was that she used to hang out at a bar where I used to work and was friendly with all of my co-workers and some of the regulars. I maaaaay have checked her Facebook page and found out that she was in her early 20's, too......  Ok, ok, I'm a stalker.  Guilty.  Happy now?


I began to think back to 23 year old me.  Would I have felt comfortable going to a married man's house while his wife, whom I didn't know, was at work? Even if he was just a friend?  Maybe I wouldn't have cared, and maybe it wasn't that big of a deal.  Whether I was overreacting or not, the whole thing still bugged me, especially because he and I should have been working on regaining trust, not finding more reasons to break it down. We just couldn't see eye to eye on the whole thing.  He couldn't really see where I was coming from or why I was upset.  I felt that if the situation had been reversed, he would have been just as pissed off as I was.  I truly didn't care if he had a female friend, but in my opinion, out of respect for the other spouse, I think the two should be introduced.  He claimed he didn't want us to meet because he didn't think we would get along.  This made me even more suspicious.  Being with my husband made me very unsure of myself.  I never knew how to feel about things.  He had become really good at talking me out of being angry for something.  At this point, I didn't know if I should have just let it go or continue to stand my ground.  In the end, I let it go because I felt that my opinion was not being heard or respected.


The communication between my husband and this girl decreased somewhat but I was definitely still acting like crazy, jealous, psychopath.  I was constantly checking our phone records for texts and calls between the two of them.  I began analyzing the duration of their calls and tried to figure out what they could have possibly been talking about for 2 minutes and 36 seconds.  I seriously stopped myself once and wondered what had become of me.  I had never acted like this in any of my relationships before.  All I kept thinking was, "This is not healthy.  This is not healthy.  Don't give men another reason to think all of us bitches are crazy."


But I couldn't stop.  I was desperate for evidence.  One night, my husband told me that he was going out with one of his guy friends.  Of course, I didn't believe him, but I pretended to be cool with it.  Wanting to know the truth, I told him that I lost my phone in my car and I needed to borrow his so I could call myself and find it.  I grabbed his phone, went to my car and started looking through his texts.  There weren't any messages from the girl, but there was one from his guy friend which said, "You can bring *Girl's Name*, if you want."  

My suspicious mind interpreted that as, "You can bring that girl that you're cheating on your wife with you, if you want."  Was it completely innocent?  I don't know.  I was a little offended because I happened to know this guy friend of my husband's and we had all hung out together several times together.  Why the hell wasn't I invited?  It felt like elementary school all over again. 


Instead of thinking things through even more, I just simply reacted and basically went all Jerry Springer on my husband about the text.  He firmly told me that they were all just friends and that he didn't tell me she was going because he was afraid this was how I was going to act.  To me, that seemed counterproductive.  How was I supposed to ever trust him again if he wasn't being honest with me? I still wasn't convinced that there wasn't something going on between the two of them. To this day, although I no longer care, I'm still not sure of the truth.  It just goes to show how hard it is to rebuild trust after it has deteriorated. 

One night, while my husband was out, I took the opportunity to watch something girly on tv without anyone around to judge me.  Oprah's network had just launched so that seemed like a good place to start.  There was a reality show on about cheating.   No, not Cheaters, something with a little more substance and fewer ugly people.  How convenient.  This particular story I happened to catch was about a woman who cheated on her husband with a co-worker.  Her guilt eventually led to a confession.  Obviously her husband was pissed, but he chose to forgive her (Awwwwwwww).  The relationship, however, was now tarnished.  It was up to the wife to prove to her husband how stupid her mistake was, how sorry she was, and how important he was to her.  So she had to be honest about EVERYTHING.  The husband, not about to have his heart stomped on again, went as far as checking the mileage on her car to ensure that she wasn't going out if she said had to work late.  


Extreme?  Maybe a little.  But trust is the foundation in a relationship.  If it's not there, then the relationship isn't worthwhile.  And that is a scientific fact. 


So after watching this enlightening program on the Oprah Winfrey Network, I compared this couple's relationship to my own.  Why weren't we working harder to get back to a happy place?  Did we need counseling?  Less stress? More alcohol?  These questions remained unanswered.  

Well, I can always use more alcohol in my life, so the answer to that question was a resounding YES.  From me.

PSA: Miss Understood

I'm going to get on my soapbox for a minute and make a statement.

Let me be clear about something: 

When I'm going through something difficult, I write.  I don't know why I started doing it in the first place, but turns out, it makes me feel better. 

Ok, sometimes a glass of wine or Grey Goose on the rocks makes me feel better too. But writing is obviously the healthiest option.

I also verbally share my experiences with others, which occasionally comes back to bite me in the ass, because I set myself up for harsh judgement.  I'm beginning to learn that not everyone is going to like me or what I have to say.  The intent of my blog is not to man-bash, destroy my ex's reputation, play the victim, or gain attention.  As I've said before, I did not expect anyone to read what I've written.......except for my mom.  Maybe an aunt or a cousin.

I've found solace in writing this blog.  The most wonderful thing is that other people have found solace from reading my blog.  I never thought I could help people in that way, but I'm unbelievably humbled by it.  And that makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside.  But that could also be from the wine...


So what is my point?  Do I even have one?


I do!


My intention is to share what I've learned from my experience.  I'm a real person who trips over her own feet, has nasty morning breath, makes mistakes (sometimes chains of mistakes), cries herself to sleep, laughs to the point of gasping for air, makes stupid decisions, has money problems, is lazy, wears glasses, is naive, and most of all, is slowly learning to accept her faults and grow into a better person. 

I have to rebuild my life and figure out who I am again.  If you care to follow me as I do so, you have my word that I will maintain integrity whilst mildly entertaining you at the same time.  If you don't agree with me, that's okay too, as long as you understand that everyone deals with hardship in their lives differently.  How many people criticized Oprah for sharing her story of abuse?  Or Elizabeth Edwards for writing a book about her husband's affair?  Am I different because I'm not a millionaire?

If you guessed that I've gotten some shit for what I've written, then you guessed correctly.  What can I say?  Haters gonna hate. 

Do Yourself a Favor and Grab a Box of Tissues.....

New Year's, 2010.  I'm hoping to put this awful year behind me and I have high hopes that 2011 will be nothing short of spectacular!!!  

Nope! 

Just like a venereal disease, sometimes your situation gets worse before it gets better.   

In January, Josh realizes that he's wasted quite a bit of time playing with "Homewrecker" and also, actual homewreckers.  He makes the brave decision to start exercising and trying to lose the weight he's gained since we've been married (it happens to the best of us).  He orders Power 90, a bunch of protein powder and gets to it.  Practically the same week he makes this change, my dad has heart complications and slips into a coma.  My whole world came crashing down.  

My dad cheated death multiple times, for some reason though, I had a bad feeling that he wasn't going to win this round.  He was in a hospital in Rochester and I was constantly driving back and forth to see him in case he woke up.  When he finally did, he just wasn't the same.  The whole month of February was like being in limbo.  Everyone waited, praying that he would improve.  


Josh continued his workout regimen.  He was doing really well, and dropping weight quickly.  I wanted to be happy for him, but I had mentally checked out from reality.  Classic case of bad, no good, horrible timing on every level.  I was literally just going through the motions of each day, unsure of what the future held.  


I couldn't be Josh's cheerleader anymore.  I was worn out and tired of giving all of myself to him and not receiving anything in return.  I wasn't deliberately ignoring him, but obviously, I was preoccupied and concerned about my father's well being.  He was preoccupied on improving himself.  I can't blame him, this was a huge step for him.  Why should he stop?  It wouldn't have changed how my dad was doing. In order to make himself accountable, he religiously posted on Facebook about his workouts, what he ate, how he felt, etc.  I noticed that his sister's best friend was putting in her two cents on his status updates quite a bit.  I found it a little odd that she was all of sudden writing all over his "wall".  It didn't really bother me, he had known her for a long time and I figured she was just being nice.  


My best friend, Alicia, offered to come visit me from New York City.  I must have sounded pretty messed up on the phone.  She stayed at my house, helped out with the kids, and basically just gave me another reason to love her unconditionally.  Josh and I had fallen back into old habits.  No communication, no connection, completely out of sync.  Just as before, I had an inkling that there was something else going on.  A woman's intuition is the most annoying, yet blessed thing.  I wish I was stupid....er. 

Josh's phone was always MIA.  He kept it very well hidden from me.  But he couldn't hide his computer.  So I went snooping again when he wasn't around.  This time, I checked his emails.  Lo and behold, guess what I found?  Emails between him and his sister's BFF.  In her defense, Josh seemed to be the aggressor.  He was mostly flirting, telling her that she was beautiful, amongst other things, and asked her if she wanted to meet up for drinks sometime after he got out of work.  


Mother. Fucker. Why was I so naive?  I'll tell you why.  Because I wanted my marriage to work.  I wanted to believe that he loved me as much as I had loved him.  I meant what I said when we got married.  For better or for worse, yo.  Even if it.......kept.......getting worse....


I decided this time to go about confronting him a little differently.  Maybe it was kind of malicious, but I wanted to hit him with my knowledge of what he'd been up to in a surprising way.  


It was a Sunday.  It had, surprisingly, been a pretty good day.  Josh was in a great mood.  We did something with the kids, I can't remember what it was, but I know that we all had fun.  That night, he put in his workout dvd, and he asked me to work out with him.  Oh really?  You want to hang out with me now?, I thought.  But instead, I said, "Sure, why not?" So we worked out together, giggled a little bit because we kept bumping in to each other, and we actually had a lot of fun.  I kept thinking how, after such a perfect day, it would be soooo fucked up for me to tell him that I read his emails. What do I have to lose at this point?  I've got his balls in my back pocket.  All I have to do is sit down.  I want him to feel as shitty as I've felt the last few months. 

After we worked out, drank some protein shakes, and chatted about how good we felt, I laid it on him.  "I read the emails between you and Kim."  Again, the look of shock that I know so well.  This time, I'm not sure if it's because I just ruined the whole day or because I caught him again.  "Seriously, Josh, why? Why are you doing this to me?  Have I been that horrible of a wife to you?" I demanded.  I'll be honest, I can't remember what his response was. Again, I told him to start packing his shit and figure out some living arrangements.  He, again, tells me he wants to stay, that he loves me, and me only.  Kim happened to also make the decision to work out around the same time that he did, which is how they started talking.  Eventually, as my attention shifted towards my father, he needed some attention and was readily getting it from Kim.  


I don't have the strength to fight anymore.  Kicking out your husband while your father is dying is probably not the best laid plan, I told myself. 


I told him that if he really wanted to stay, he needed to email her, tell her that he made a HUGE mistake (the word huge had to be in capital letters) and that he was not going to email her anymore.  I also made him show me the email he sent. She sent one back apologizing for any pain she may have caused.  Whatever. 

I felt like I was in control.  Finally.  I had stood by, helpless, for too long.  I also made the conscious decision to start working out as well.  Working out with Josh was really motivating.  He was an animal.  We got up early, worked out together, had a protein shake with a side of coffee, showered, and then I went to work.  He worked nights, so while he was gone, I did a nighttime workout on my own.  We were back on track.  All of a sudden, it was like we were newlyweds again.  Thank you, endorphins.  Our relationship did a 180.  We were so happy.......like all the time.  Even my 6 year old was like, "Are you guys...okay?"  I lost almost 20 lbs in less than a month and I had visible biceps! I dropped a pant size and my energy was through the roof.  Turns out, working out is all it's cracked up to be.


But all good things must come to an end, right? 


Meanwhile in Rochester, my dad's condition was not improving, it was getting worse.  Time stopped when a nurse practitioner asked me, "What are your dad's wishes?"  I knew she wasn't talking about how he wished to own another restaurant.  I felt like I was too young for someone to ask me that question.  See, my dad and I lost a lot of time with each other.  As a restaurant owner and the primary chef, he was always at work and not at home.  Most of my childhood, I didn't really know my dad.  It was only as an adult, that we started to gain some of that time back.  


I knew what my dad's wishes were.  He didn't want anyone to make a fuss over him. He told me several times that he didn't want to stay on life support.  I just didn't think this decision would have to be made so soon.  And it literally did.  I think my family and I had only a few days to think about it.  We knew what we had to do though.  It was time to let him go, and not let him suffer any more.  


My dad past away on March 3rd, 2011 at Strong Memorial Hospital in Rochester.  Josh was amazing.  He held me through the whole process and didn't leave my side.  Alicia came up from New York City and again, helped me with everything she could.  My family and I received an outpouring of love and support from friends and the community.  


And the Italians of Syracuse did their part and sent the food.  That's what my people do.  Bad break up? Have some lasagna.  Someone died? Have some meatballs and sauce.  Sick?  Have some pasta fazool.  To Italians, there's a meal suited for every possible situation, good or bad.


Naturally, with all the food and the crying, one forgets to work out.  Just as quickly as Josh and I had hopped on the wagon, when my father died, we got back off.  Oh and, to top it all off, about a week later, Josh lost his job.  Wasn't that sweet?  Back to Square 1. 


What's next?  Locusts?  The Black Plague?  Only time will tell.

The Tofu and Hummus: You're welcome, Vegans.

Now here's where shit gets interesting.  Hold on to your underwear.



I'm a hot mess.  I'm frazzled.  My hair and skin look like absolute shit.  I'm living off of the Dunkin Donuts menu.  Suddenly I realize this feeling is all too familiar.................I feel like a single mother again, the only difference is that I now have two kids instead of one and I'm....um.....married. 

 A while back when Josh and I first moved in together, he received a sample cd in the mail for a free trial of a game called World of Warcraft.  Perhaps you've heard of it?  It's the game that ruins lives and relationships?  So Josh installs it on his laptop and doesn't leave his laptop except to eat and go to the bathroom.  For those that have no idea what I'm talking about, this game is highly addictive.  You create your own character and basically fight your way through different levels, purchasing "gear" that helps you achieve these levels faster.  You're online with other players and have the ability to chat with other people, form guilds, and have battles.  The types of people that play these games, aka "gamers", are the kinds of people that Josh used to make fun of, which is why I was surprised he took such an interest in it.  


When the free trial ended, he kind of let it go because he didn't want to pay the monthly fee to continue.  However, he eventually discovered similar games to WoW that are free to play. 

Around April 2010, Josh downloaded Shaiya, or as I call it, "Homewrecker".   At this point he wasn't playing it as much as he eventually would, but he was constantly online searching for better and newer products to import from China and sell here.  At this point, I was hoping a nice Chinese man would just tell him to get off the computer and hang out with his family or find a real job or get a hobby.

I hadn't done anything with my friends in ages.  Since I was the only one bringing home a regular paycheck, there was no extra money.  My friends and my social life were, at one point, very important to me.  I used to be Jen "Let's Do A Shot!" Crittela.  I didn't even know who I was anymore.  What's even worse is watching everyone else with their seemingly perfect lives on Facebook going on vacations, wine tours, going to concerts, having house parties and playing beer pong.  I couldn't even remember the last time I played beer pong!  Maybe it was because I was playing beer pong.......  Needless to say, reading my friends' statuses and looking at their pictures was making me miserable.  That's not how it should be. 

In August, Josh and I were both in one wedding, were invited to another, and had our own anniversary to celebrate.  We had already been to two weddings earlier in the year and Josh made it very clear that he was over going to weddings.  Yeah, ok, I get it.  Most guys would rather watch The Notebook than get dressed up, sit with a bunch of people they don't know, and dance with their date.   But we get free food!  And there's usually alcohol!  And sometimes, even that's free!!  He survived the weddings.  He wasn't happy, but he survived.  I regretted taking him to my dear friends', Bill and Krista's, wedding because he was sooooo miserable the entire time.  Actually, I didn't even see him for most of it because he found other people to hang out with.  Le sigh. 

Our second anniversary was less amazing than our first.  We went out for sushi again.  I was pumped because we had not gone on a date in FOREVER.  I was dying for some one on one time, sans children and computers, and desperate for us to reconnect.  After we ordered our food, Josh began talking about Shaiya.  The amount of time he had spent playing the game had increased quite a bit over the last few months.  I don't remember being able to get a word in edgewise during the conversation.  He talked about the game throughout dinner.  I would have interrupted and asked him if we could talk about something else, but I didn't know what else we would have talked about.  Instead, I pretended to be interested and let him carry on.  I remember wanting to stab myself in my eye with my chopstick just so he'd ask me if I was okay. 


The lack of communication between us worsened.  He was more and more agitated by the children and I had given up on caring about how I or the house looked.  I was barely keeping it together.   A few times I tried to tell him that he was spending too much time playing the game, and that I wished he would, at the very least, watch a movie with me and the kids.  He did a few times, but he was visibly annoyed and immediately went back to playing the game when the kids went to bed.  Even though the office was right off the living room and I could see him from the couch, it felt like he was on the other side of the world.  I tried to get his attention by randomly coming up behind him and hugging him or kissing his neck but he just placed his hand on my arm and patted it.  I'd say, "I love you and I miss you"  and he would say, "I love you too, why do you miss me?  I'm right here."  But he wasn't,  he was playing with the Homewrecker.  He might as well have been in Middle Earth or whatever dimension he was supposed to be in. 


I know. Wah, wah, wah.  Stay with me, peeps. 


I really thought that if he was working, Josh would spend a lot less time playing the game. So I took the initiative and started job searching for him.  I found out that a restaurant downtown was looking for a line cook, and he applied and got the job.  Yay!  

Nay!  He wanted to play the game even more!  At this point, our relationship is rockier than Balboa.  Thanksgiving rolls around, we travel downstate to my mom's, and it's awkward.  He doesn't want to go, but doesn't really have another option.  So, as you can imagine, the whole trip was suuuuuper fun. 


After the holiday, on the way back home, Josh tells me that he wants to get away for a week.  I'm thinking, Get away from what???  What is it that you need to get away from???  He tells me that he connected with a group of friends from culinary school in Florida through playing Homewrecker.  They moved to Iowa and started a catering business and he wants to go visit them.  I was at a loss for words.  Um, excuse me, but if anyone needed a vacation and an opportunity to reconnect with friends, it was ME!!!!  Of course, I wasn't about to fight with him on a road trip so I didn't really say anything.  


------Get ready because shit's about to hit the fan-------


I started noticing that Josh is texting quite a bit and doing weird stuff, like bringing his phone into the bathroom with him. He's also staying up late and not coming to bed with me.  Not sleeping in the same bed with your spouse, bf/gf, dog, cat, whatever, creates a lot of distance between you.  There's something comforting about being that close to someone and listening to them snore.  Anyways, my intuition kicked in and I started to think that something's up.  My memory is not the greatest.  I don't remember if I asked him flat out at this point if he was cheating on me.  If I didn't, I should have.  Up until this point, I had no reason not to trust him completely.  I never went through his phone, emails, or Facebook messages.  It just wasn't necessary.  But now, I felt as though it was necessary.  


One morning, I woke up early.  Josh was still asleep, on the couch, with his phone laying next to him on the floor.  Shaking, I picked it up and went to his text messages.  Sure enough, the evidence was in front of me.  The first thing I read was "I love you", but it wasn't meant for me.  It was meant for someone else whose number was from a different area code.  


In that second, I felt my heart break.  It was unlike anything I had ever felt before.  My legs morphed into jell-o and my eyes welled up with tears.   Then I remembered something Josh had told me shortly after we got together.  "If you ever cheat on me, I will not hesitate to leave you.  I love you so much that I don't think I could handle it if you cheated on me," he had said.   I was like, "Ok, geez! I would never do that to you."   I thought it was kind of weird that he said that in a threatening type way, but he had also told me that every girlfriend before me had cheated on him, so I excused it as him just being scared about getting hurt. 


And here I was, reading about how he loved someone else.  I continued reading.  Blah blah blah, you're amazing, blah blah blah, never thought I'd find someone like you.  Then, I read a message from the girl that said, "I'm painting Zoe's room right now."  Oh hell motherfucking no.  I went through his pictures and found a few of a naked girl, duckfaced, with her arm extended and with her phone in hand to take a picture with.


I woke him up immediately and confronted him with what I had read.  He just looked at me with shock and bewilderment.  "SAY SOMETHING!"  I yelled.  He explained that this girl was actually an ex-girlfriend from culinary school who had moved to Iowa with his other friends (remember that trip he wanted to take??).  I wish I could remember everything I said to him.  I do recall telling him to leave.  He apologized over and over again and talked me into letting him stay.  He told me that he had been stuck in this fantasy world for months and although it wasn't a good enough excuse, his feelings for this girl weren't actually real.  Even though there was no physical contact between them, I considered it cheating.  Especially, because he was so bold as to tell someone else that he loved them.

It almost would have been better if he had just slept with someone and there was no emotional exchange of words involved.  I beat myself up, wondering what I had done wrong, what made him look for an emotional connection with someone else who lived 12 hours away, when I was in the next room.  I may not be Heidi Klum, but I'm certainly NOT an asshole.  As if I needed more to be self-conscious about, I felt like this was my fault.  Maybe I should not wear the same t-shirt all weekend?  Or maybe I should just walk around naked after the kids go to bed? Or not leave the house without make-up?  I felt lost and alone and like no one could relate or understand what I was going through.  Instantly, everyone thought of him as an asshole.  But I didn't marry an asshole.  I married someone who loved the shit out of me.  Who told me I was beautiful even when my hair was frizzy and I had crusted drool on my chin.  Who couldn't wait to spend his life with me.  Who laughed at my stupid jokes. 

What the hell happened?
 
 

The Meat and Potatoes, which becomes your diet when you get married, except if you're vegan, then this does not apply to you at all

I just had to drink three cups of coffee in order to write this.  That ain't no thing but a chicken wing for an avid coffee drinker like myself.  However, usually, I clean my entire house after I drink three cups of coffee, instead of sitting still and typing on my computer.  I estimate that I will complete this blog in about 47 seconds.  

The reason for the massive coffee intake is because trying to focus on the last few years of my life is virtually impossible without caffeine.  I feel like I've had an out of body experience and that I've done nothing but what I've had to do to keep going.  At the risk of sounding like I've gone off my rocker, it's as if I've lived the last few years without my soul and my true self was trapped in glass box, watching me go through the motions of each day as a miserable, lonely, soulless little person.  My true self kept screaming at me to do something, to break free, but I lacked the knowledge and motivation to change the state of my condition. 


But this is supposed to be kind of funny, right?  


Well, I just spilled my fourth cup of coffee on myself.  No joke.  I'm hot, wet, and I smell like hazelnuts.


Anyways, after we got married, we were in wedded bliss for a few months, then the most wonderful thing happened.  Well, the second most wonderful thing.  My daughter, Zoe, was born in late fall (or as it's called in Syracuse, "early winter").  The night before she was born (via Cesarean), I was incredibly nervous, and neither Josh, nor I could sleep.  Maybe it was just nerves, but as we were laying in bed, I made a joke about something stupid and we both went into a fit of hysterical laughter.  We laughed so hard it hurt.  Seriously, if someone heard us, we probably sounded like maniacs.  I couldn't catch my breath and, for a second, was scared I might laugh myself into labor.  The sexiest compliment I've ever received was being able to make my husband laugh at something goofy I said.  He didn't have to actually say anything to flatter me, it was just his honest reaction to my incessant silliness.  We managed to eventually fall asleep and, for the first time, we slept in each others' arms and stayed that way until we woke up. The next morning went off without a hitch.  Zoe's birth brought Josh and I extremely close.  This was probably the happiest we ever were.  She was so healthy and just an incredibly happy baby.  Even when she puked on me, she was adorable.  If that's not unconditional love, I don't know what is.  


Although Josh and I had been brought closer through Zoe, it wasn't long before conflict ensued.  I had been out of work for five months, and took the first crappy job I could get:  Selling male enhancement products over the phone.  I really wish I was kidding.  Try fighting off post partum depression while selling dick cream.  I dare you.  Josh worked at the same place, and as a natural salesperson, he did very well.  Even as a woman with a decent sounding phone voice, I had no luck with my sales.......perhaps because I felt I was giving up my dignity in order to make a living.   Needless to say, I was very unhappy and due to hormonal fluctuations after having Zoe, I rarely felt like having sex.  This confused Josh, as it would most men.  Although I told him several times that my lack of "desire" had nothing to do with him personally, he was still very discouraged.  

So selling dick cream didn't last very long.  Josh continued to work there, but I couldn't find a steady job that didn't involve abandoning my morals until later that summer.  When I started my new job, Josh decided he was going to retire from selling dick cream (or working any other job with stable income) and sell knock off designer watches.  


Wait......what?


In marriage, or any relationship, communication is the key to success.  Obviously, right?  This major decision was not discussed.  It was just done.  I panicked.  My job was only part-time to start and it wasn't guaranteed when it would turn into full-time.  How were we supposed to survive??  Turns out, even though it was incredibly illegal and risky, Josh made decent, though inconsistent, money selling watches and we were hanging in there financially.  Still, I was regularly on edge.  The lack of security frightened me and made me paranoid.  I tried to be supportive and trust my husband but my true self was banging on the glass and screaming, "THIS NOT OKAY!!!  YOU DON'T DESERVE TO FEEL THIS WAY!!!!"  Or maybe it was my mother.......I can't remember.  It was probably a little bit of both.  


Despite my anxiety, our first anniversary that summer was pretty awesome.  He surprised me by taking me to dinner at Ichiban where we proceeded to drop 100 bones on nothing but sushi.  One of my favorite things about Josh was that he wasn't cheap, especially when it came to food.   I won't tell you how much we spent on booze, you might think less of me.  After dinner, we spent the night in a hotel, and had some........dessert.  The whole night couldn't have been better.  In fact, if there was a contest for best first anniversary ever, based on the rate of fun being had, ours would win by a landslide.  


My job eventually turned into a full time position, which eased my mind a little bit, but only a little bit.  I was still the sole provider for the family, and occasionally had to borrow from Bank of Amomica to make ends meet.  I was making a mediocre hourly wage, but I couldn't really expect too much because as smart as I am, I still wasn't college educated.  The whole single mom thing had made that impossible thus far.   I talked to Josh about how this bothered me.  I told him I really wanted to go back to school not only to obtain a degree, but also to keep my brain sharp.  His response wasn't quite what I had hoped it would be.  In a nutshell, he told me to go ahead and do what I wanted.  I suppose he didn't really see how this would directly affect him.  Like that I would eventually be smarter than he was.  


So I registered for some online classes.  No big deal, I can work full time, do full time online college work, take care of the kids, and still get dinner on the table.  Yeah, totally.  Hakuna fucking matata. 

In actuality, I could barely work full time, do full time online college work, take care of the kids, and still get dinner on the table.   With all of this on my plate, I still managed to get a decent GPA that semester.  Josh acted like he couldn't have cared less.  Now, I wasn't looking for a badge of honor, but I received no encouragement or support from the one person that I wanted to be proud of me.  I made peace with the fact that I was going to have to be my own cheerleader, and registered for another semester.  


The designer knock off watch business fell through but Josh was determined to have his own company.  So with no capital, advice, or plan he started an electronic cigarette business.   He had successfully quit smoking by using an electronic cigarette and felt as though selling them to smokers also looking to quit would be lucrative.  It was, kind of.  The inconsistency of how much he was contributing to the household was really starting to wear away at me.  Most of the time he was online, trying to network, advertise, and find the best deals on products he was selling.  

I wasn't exactly trying hard to get his attention.  As soon as I got home from work, I changed into sweats, threw my hair on top of my head, and started my "mom routine".  Dinner, homework with Alexa, bathing both kids, cleaning up, then doing my school work until bed.  Is that sexy or what?  We were living separate lives.  I had my own thing going on, he had his thing.  And then he got another thing........

The Beginning: Part Tres (Look! I'm teaching you how to count in different languages! This blog is mildly entertaining AND educational!!)

Everything.  Was.  Perfect.  I decided to quit my job at the sports restaurant because I made more money bartending in two nights than I did all week there.  Plus, I was getting tired of running Alexa around to different baby-sitters all the time.  AND I just got really sick of working at that god forsaken place.  It gave me more time with Josh and Alexa, and I felt as though we were all bonding, kind of like a weird, little mismatched family.  

We talked about getting married someday, and it felt 100% right.  He was so..........enamored with me.  I truly never thought someone could love me that much and that I would feel the same way about him.  It was then that I understood why people get married in the first place because before, I thought it was nothing more than a binding contract.  And in a way, it is, but there is so much that stands behind that contract.  I wanted to show my family and close friends how happy this man had made me.  I wanted to stand up in front of everyone and vow to love and cherish him for the rest of our lives.  I wanted a fancy, delicious cake.......

 So let me just make one thing very clear:  I am not a materialistic kind of girl.  Would I kill someone over a pair of Christian Leboutin shoes?    Well............


Ok, would I kill someone over a new Coach bag?  No.  I appreciate the finer things in life, but I can live without them.  I am the epitome of "champagne taste on a beer budget".  And most of the finer things in life are just that:  things.   


"But, Jen, what does this have to do with anything?"


Calm down, I'm getting somewhere!  


Josh came into a reasonably large sum of money that he really didn't know what to do with.  To this day, I don't remember what he spent it on.  He did, however, begin hinting around about my ring finger.  He commented on how I never wore rings and he may have even flat out asked me what my ring size was.  Now, I'm starting to get excited.  My imagination is running away with me.  How is he going to propose?  Where is he going to propose?  WHEN IS HE GOING TO PROPOSE?!?!  


A few months go by, and nothing happens.  His birthday is the same day as St. Patrick's Day so clearly, to me, this is a big deal.  I will celebrate anything when there is beer involved.  I asked what he wanted to do to celebrate, and he didn't share my excitement.  Our families celebrated birthdays very differently.  My family almost went over the top.  His family, not so much.  So I decided to make a spectacle of his birthday weekend.  I'm talking limo, fancy restaurant, and a whole night of drinking $8/bottle champagne.  Yeeeeeaaaaaah buddy!!!  Then on his actual birthday, we attended the St. Patty's Day parade and proceeded to become obliterated.  Drunkity drunk, drunk, drunk.  

The next morning, I felt like I died.  I actually wondered if I had died, was rejected in the afterlife, then was rolled up in a ball and shot through a cannon back into my bed.  Sick does not even begin to explain the way I felt......and the way I continued to feel.  Two days later, I was still nauseous.  I had no appetite.  I was lightheaded and had a headache.  Then it hit me like a ton of bricks.  


I was fucking pregnant.  I was pregnant through St. Patrick's Day!!!!  


Since this was not my first rodeo, (the first time I was pregnant, I found out after being in Las Vegas for month for work.  I will not be going into a nice nursing home when I'm old) I took 4 pregnancy tests, just to be sure, and broke the news to Josh.  His reaction was far better than mine.  I was not happy, he was ecstatic.  He was too excited to look at the big picture.  I loved my bartending job.  No, I couldn't do it forever, but I was happy for the time being and the money was great.  How long could I be a pregnant bartender for?   I became very concerned about money, work schedules, and mostly, what my parents were going to think.  Here I was, again, NOT married (still not technically engaged either), NOT yet fully educated, bartending for a living, and NO savings account.  This time, they would disown me for sure.  


Josh was so elated and couldn't understand why I wasn't.  This was a dream for him.  I was pretty much all set with the one beautiful child I had, and he wanted to be a father so badly.  He was very much against abortion and adoption was just not an option for either one of us.  So we decided to go through with it.  I eventually moved past my worry and moved into a happy place again.  Fortunately, my parents were slightly more excited than the first time I told them I was knocked up because they liked Josh and they knew we were serious about each other.  All systems go!
  
 Well sort of.  My mom offered to send us on a "babymoon" if we got married before the baby was born.  Since Josh and I didn't care how or when we got married, we agreed.  He told me he didn't care if we were married in front of a justice of the peace or an Elvis impersonator, he just wanted to marry me.  So a small wedding was thrown together in just two months.  By the time everything was planned and ready to go, we wanted to elope.  Don't ever try to plan in wedding in two months.  Trust me.


There I was......a bride with a bun in the oven.  Six months pregnant, but I honestly couldn't have been happier.  All the important things I wanted to be a part of my wedding were there.  My dad walked me down the aisle, we were married outside, the food was great, the cake.....oh my God, the cake.........perfection.


The honeymoon/babymoon was.......interesting.  We decided on a trip to Niagara Falls.  He had never been, I hadn't been since I was a kid.  We stopped in Buffalo on the way and ate at The Melting Pot.  He surprised me by upgrading our dinner with a bouquet of roses and our server took a beautiful picture of us at the restaurant and framed it.  We were off to a great start!

Up until this point, I hadn't gained much weight, but it all hit me by the sixth month.  I was tired, I was cranky, and I did NOT feel like walking all over hell's half acre to see the Falls from different angles.  But I sucked it up, for Josh and for the exercise.  I made sure I didn't complain because I didn't want to be a nagging, complaining wife already.  We had fun, but we didn't have as much fun as I thought we were going to have.  His mission for our honeymoon was finding a really great deal on liquor from the duty free on the Canadian side of the Falls.  We walked all over Canada trying to find the right place with the best deals.  I was ready to go home.  He wouldn't let me sleep in because he wanted to go out and do stuff early.  We didn't even really do.....honeymoon type things.   There was something wrong about the whole trip, but I couldn't put my finger on what it was that made us so out of sync.  It was almost like the trip became more about him, than about us.  


As we drove back home, I tried to push my worry aside.  So we didn't have an epic honeymoon, so what?  I'm freakin' pregnant!  Pregnant women aren't fun!  Or are they........?  I was very confused.  Was our lackluster honeymoon going to set the tone for the rest of our marriage?  Am I being too neurotic?  Is it ok to take a Valium while you're pregnant?  What did it all mean?!!?

The Beginnning: Part Deux because.....sometimes sequels are......good.....

Dreamy Line Cook aka "Josh", and I had talked every night on the phone for at least a week.  Although he worked nearby, he actually lived with his brother about 45 minutes away.  And he didn't have a car.  Or a valid license (LADIES!!  THIS IS A RED FLAG!!!).  I have never been very judgmental (but did have very low expectations), so this predicament didn't really phase me. I worked around it.  So instead of Josh taking me on a first date at a 5 star establishment like Applebee's, we had lunch at the restaurant he worked at......we had lunch because he had to work the dinner shift......  

Moving on!  

This blossoming relationship was unlike any relationship I had ever experienced before.  It was effortless.  There were no games.  I didn't have to hide my feelings or put on an act in order to make him like me more.  I could be myself, tell corny jokes, be clumsy and goofy, and he found it all very charming.  He also thought I was the most beautiful girl in the world.  I know this because he told me every 5 minutes.  Was this love?  I had no idea, but I was really into whatever it was. 

Prior to dating Josh, I had been burned several times and I decided my daughter, Alexa, was enough for me.  I didn't want to get married because it seemed like a bunch of crap.  My parents' recent divorce after 30 years of marriage heavily influenced this idea.  Being a single mom had made me fiercely independent.  Like I said before, I had been enjoying being single and having the freedom to flirt with whomever I chose to.  

Meeting Josh threw me for a loop and all my long term relationship theories flew out the window.  I felt like he understood me and actually got my sense of humor.   We shared the same passions about the artistic aspect of food.  My father was a chef, and I'm pretty sure Josh had a litter of kittens when I told him.  He was blown away by my knowledge and appreciation of different types of cuisine.  He was CRAZY passionate about music and so was I.  And he loved coffee.  I freaking LOVE coffee.  Several nights instead of going out drinking, we grabbed a 12 pack of beers and just sat at my kitchen table and talked about everything under the sun.  One of my happiest memories is when we found a panoramic puzzle of the New York City skyline.  We bought it together, grabbed some beers, and completed (most of) the puzzle.  That night, I fell head over heels.  We laughed and laughed and laughed.  I don't think I've ever had that much fun doing a puzzle in my entire life.  Before I knew it, he was moving in to my apartment.  

I know you might be thinking, "Wait a minute, Jen.  What about your daughter?"

Well.  This had been dangerous territory in the past.  When you're under 25 and you have a kid, guess how many guys want to seriously date you?  This many ----> 0.   


So naturally, I proceeded with trepidation.  I asked several times and in several different ways if he was ok with dating someone who had a child.  Every time I asked,  he assured me that he loved children and hoped to have one of his own someday.  He was incredibly taken by Alexa because, well, she's damn cute.  


Josh moved in after we had been dating for merely four weeks.  I had never been more sure about anything up to this point.  I loved waking up next to him everyday.  He bought me flowers.  He bought me a new coffee maker.  I was falling in love hard and fast.  Before long, we said it out loud and for the first time in my life, I actually meant it. 

The Beginning: Part 1.....because every great story has one.

The Year:  2006


Best. Year. Ever.  I took a Vegas vacation with my girlfriends, I went to a bunch of incredible concerts, I was making great money waitressing, and best of all, I had established a fabulous group of friends.  Perfection.  Well, my version of it anyway.  I was riding high, enjoying the hell out of being single.  Besides, I didn't really have a clear example of what kind of man I was attracted to.  Until I saw him.  


I'm working at this sports themed restaurant where I had met said fabulous group of friends. I was in my element.  You should know that I always wanted to be an entertainer, therefore, I was usually pretty loud and obnoxious.   But not obnoxious in a bad way (at least I hope not).   I just loved to laugh and tell jokes and make fun of the line cooks.  It got me through the long nights of slinging chicken tenders and tall Buds to drunk Giants fans.  One night, while I was expo-ing (restaurant term that means arranging each table's order and garnishing plates before they reach the guests.  You're welcome), I noticed a new guy behind the line.  I remember the second he looked up at me with warm, blue eyes that smiled even when he wasn't, and I think I melted.  


He had a gorgeous face.  First of all, I was shocked that a good looking guy was frying chicken tenders.  Secondly, I knew that there was no way in hell he dug chubby brunettes.  (Sidebar:  I had always been unlucky whenever I was attracted to someone first, usually that someone wasn't attracted to me, so we would enter the "friend zone".  You can put your violin away now.)   So despite the fact that dreamy line cook was working just inches away from me, I put him out of my head and did my job, yelling at servers to run their food and yelling at line cooks for taking 25 minutes to make an order of french fries.  


Come to find out, Dreamy Line Cook already had a girlfriend.  I discovered this by asking my super stealth friend, Jeannine, to find out if he was taken or not, which she did by asking him straight out.  After working with him for a few weeks, I came to notice his very sexy sculpted arms, and his even sexier tattoos.  His station on the line was very conveniently located on the way to the walk-in cooler, from which I retrieved many imaginary lemons and tomatoes.  I have this very clear memory of him looking up at me as I walked by one day, and smiling at me so brightly that his entire face lit up that ugly, drab kitchen.  Me, being ever so cool, totally blushed and walked away quickly, practically dropping the imaginary lettuce.  


We never really spoke or had a conversation, but I was always checking him out.  I categorized him as "unattainable" and never pursued anything.  Then, one week went by and I noticed he hadn't been around.  Another week passed, no more eye candy.  Had I been trapped in an 80's music video for a month?  No one really had an explanation as to where he was.  I decided that I was dangerously close to being called a stalker, and I dropped it.  I eventually forgot about him, and carried on.


The Year:  2007


So in a nutshell, this year sucked.  I had lost two friends, whom I considered very close, due to an absolutely ridiculous roommate situation (I would rather work three jobs than ever have roommates again).  My daughter had decided that her goal in life, at age 3, was to destroy everything I spent my hard earned money on.  I was working two jobs: Bartending at a karaoke bar twice a week, and waitressing at the sports restaurant three days a week.  I was always busy, yet always broke and establishing guilt for having to pick my daughter up from a baby-sitter at midnight or later most of the time.  


I moved into a new apartment right after Thanksgiving.  This time, I was living with the only roommate I wanted, my daughter, even though I knew she was going to keep breaking my shit.  I knew that things were going to be difficult financially, but I tried to escape those feelings by an occasional night out with my peeps (not be confused with colorful marshmallows in the shape of baby animals).


So one particular night, my friends and I went to dinner at a new restaurant owned by the same company of the restaurant that I worked at (got it?).  Remember my friend Jeannine?    She had been working at the new restaurant, assisting in training the new staff.  One night, my fab friends and I met up with Jeannine at the new place for dinner.  After a delicious meal, Jeannine disappears.  Then, literally out of no where, Dreamy Line Cook appears.  


"Hi, I'm Joshua!"  he said with that 1000 watt smile that grabbed my attention the first time I saw him.  I think I told him my name or something of that nature because I was so stunned I really had no idea what I was saying.  Then he just started talking, telling me about how he had broken his neck a few month before, and how he was lucky to be alive, and I just simply couldn't process what he was telling me because I was too busy being shocked.  Finally he said, "Let me give you my number!" I nervously fumbled with my phone and made sure that I saved it.  Since he was in the middle of preparing numerous dinners in the kitchen, he had to leave me but said he hoped to hear from me.  After he left, I looked at my smiling friends at the table.  "What the hell just happened?"  I said.  


Later on, Jeannine and I went out bar hopping but I couldn't stop thinking about Josh.  Then I realized, I had his number, but he didn't have mine.  I asked Jeannine how long I should wait before I call him so I don't appear desperate and her advice was to wait until tomorrow.  So naturally, I ignored her advice and texted him that night.  No worries, I kept it cool.  I wrote, "Hi Josh!  It's Jen.  It was so great to see you!  I hope to talk to you soon!"  Simple.  To the point and honest.  When my phone alerted me that I received a new text, my heart was in my throat.  He wrote back, asking me if he could call me when he got out of work.  I agreed and about three hours later, we were on the phone.  


And we remained on the phone until the sun came up.