the danish outpost
updated when time and inspiration allow. latest and greatest always in the blog.
surrealism: not just for Dadaist anymore


feeling kinda how a girl feels

first and foremost, i am thankful to have friends who look out for me. its such a clichè to say that you know who your friends are when the going gets tough. but it's a clichè for a reason. so many people have reached out lately, in one way or another, to offer support. all yall are wonderful. ((hugs))

i've spent the last day or so thinking about stanzi dying. not to be morbid - i would dearly love for her to pull up and out of this and be around for another 14 years. but that isn't going to happen. she's let me know that she's ready to go, soon. so the best i can do is try to make it more real, to make the acceptance easier.

i don't know how much longer i'll have her around. maybe a few months? she's going in to see the vet as soon as i can get her in there. (please, dear goddess, don't let me procrastinate because i don't want to hear the news.)

in other news, last night was a particularly surreal night.

first off, somehow i knew what stanz was telling me, and i flipped out. called everyone and their brother (nearly literally). spent a good solid two hours or so on the phone, trying to make sense of what was happening.

then the ex boyfriend showed up at my doorstep. y'know, most people just return phone calls with... a phone call. he... showed up on my doorstep. very surreal to be in the midst of an emotional firestorm and end up with the ex for whom you still try not to have feelings sitting next to you in the same spot he always sat in when you were together, trying to pull yourself together and ask chirpy questions, rather than fall apart and cry big snotty messes all over his shirt.

next was the IM convo with HimSelf. that's just always a bit trippy, regardless of context. :)

and then came the oddest part. i'm still battling the fat fucknut of an exhusband over the annulment, because he has No Right WhatSoEver to call me a baby killer and get away with it unscathed. so i called him. bright idea, right?

as it turns out, it was. somehow, some way, we hashed things out. he apologized for about 17 different things, and i told him that he could have the annulment, but it would damned well be on my terms, and if his current wedding was fucked, he'd better understand that he put himself in that position, and that i didn't really care how much She hates me, because her idea of who i am is completely skewed by his machinations. the person She hates doesn't exist. it's not me. She hates a paper tiger that he has created. and boy, he better figure out why he needed to do that, or Marriage #2 will come crashing down in flames, much as the first one did. and should She ever want to call and yell at me, or talk, or whatever, She was free to.

guess what? he agreed. and he explained a few other things (not relavent or fit for public consumption). and then there was a pause.

hear that silence?

that's the sound of me not being able to be mad at him anymore.

*shakes head* i may never understand how that particular emotional contract came to a close. but i do know this: he and i aren't mad at each other anymore. that weight is gone. lifted. released. whatever lesson is in there will sift itself out and be clear. most importantly, all that angry energy is gone.

which is good, because i have a feeling i'll be needing that energy elsewhere, soon.

yesterday :: tomorrow

your moment of...
2000-2002 by eac. feel free to link to my site; if you do, please drop me a line.
listening to/watching: ER rerun. of course, the one where Mark dies.
reading: nada
random: music really is a balm for the soul

*tap tap* hellooo?
i think i've been tricked
steely grey days
warm food for cold weather
the appeal of the broken boy

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