almost there

I've been reading divorce blogs lately, and I have looked at the infamous divorcee clip on YouTube. People get crazy, both from the events that lead up to divorce, and from the legal process that follows those events. One blog, featured in an article about blogging and free speech in The New York Times, reminds me of how Lenny Bruce used to read legal injunctions against him onstage. I feel for these people. I have been that angry, and that crazy.

I think my divorce will be finished soon. I want to write about it, but I don't want to be pathetic, or worse, boring. I don't want this to be a revege blog, although I realize that simply writing the stuff that happened might be viewed as seeking revenge. Writing is my way of processing and working through emotion.

If I wrote a revenge blog, it would be about the guy who painted my apartment four years ago. He charged me $4300 and did a terrible job. His crew got paint on everything. They didn't use that blue tape, and they got paint drips on everything in my house--appliances, wood cabinets. . . They destroyed carpets and wood floors. It still bothers me, every single day.

Don't hire Pete Mascio to paint your house.

small town

I drive my daughter and my sister to the train every morning. Coming back a few minutes ago, I nearly ran over my husband's divorce lawyer (who shall henceforth be known as Mr. Bohica, which is military slang for "Bend over; here it comes again.") He was getting out of his car to go get his morning coffee at the little cafe. I see him almost every morning, but I've never almost run over him before.

I can just see myself, trying to explain to the police that it was an accident.

Also: I saw the judge on my case in my local Stop&Shop the Wednesday after Easter.

Also: I frequently see my husband's best friend from childhood, who no longer speaks to me, walking down the hill to the train.

I've gotta get outa this town.