Rigteously Indignant, yup, that's me.

It's the only picture I could find besides a book I didn't want to promote.

Wikipedia defines Righteous Indignation as follows: Righteous indignation is typically a reactive emotion of anger over perceived mistreatment, insult, or malice.

Last night, I swear Rod Serling was writing the screenplay of my life.  I mean, let’s be honest here.  My life has had more than it’s fair share of the bizzaro. (please hover over that link so you can see what I’m talking about if you’re not going to click it and go read it.)

People, some of my best writing is in the notes when you hover over a link.  Please, to get the maximum enjoyment from my blog, hover over the links. (and if it doesn’t work.. let me know. I’ll cut a bitch.)

So, last night.

I was supposed to go to The Lake after dropping the girls off with their dad for the week.  Ok, I *did* go to The Lake after dropping the girls off for the week.

And when I got there, I stepped out of my car and smack dab in the middle of Bizzaro World.

I’m not going to throw anyone under the bus here.  There is a whole lot of stuff going on that I don’t even know. (Like basically everything).  In a sentence, due to everything going on, I was told I had to leave.  Whether it was or was not my fault hasn’t been determined to my satisfaction.  Ok. It’s not my FAULT, but the drama centered around me, and I don’t know why or how, or what started it, or what the hell is going on.  I just know, that everything I thought I knew going into the weekend came into question last night.

Ok.

This morning, I get up (after driving home at midnight last night) and I’m pissed.  Not at anyone specifically, just at the situation in general.  And at not having any clear cut answers.  Which is the very definition of irony coming from me.  So, I send a few text messages, trying to figure out what is going on, where things stand, blah blah blah.

And basically getting my panties in a wad.

Righteously indignant.

I set about writing a blog post screaming at the top of my lungs (ok, posting in a very loud voice) how effing fabulous I am, and how I am awesome with eleventy billion sides of awesome sauce (inflated ego much?  I know, I can barely walk into my own house.) I was all like, Look dude, I got plans, I got dreams, I got a life I want to live, and I ain’t got time to wait around for you to get your shit together and notice how fucking fabulous I am.  (ok, maybe it was a smidge nicer than that, but clearly not much.  Once I get all wadded panties and shit, I go way over the top.  Yes, really.  Have you met me?)

And just as I’m about to hit publish, and just after I sent him a text that said “Your reservation in my life expires at midnight, either confirm it or lose me forever.”

He texts.

And I feel like a total asshat.

 

Best. Picture. Ever.

So, I saved the blog post to my drafts folder.  I scrambled like eggs to look like less of an ass via text message.  In other words, his simple text took me down a few necessary notches.

Sure I’m fucking Fabulous, and all kinds of awesome, but you know what?  I’m not the end all be all of someone else’s life.  Everyone else is busy living their life, dealing with their drama, their issues, their problems.  It’s not all about me.  While I’m on my soapbox preaching “I’ve got dreams! I’ve got plans!  I’ve got a life and I don’t have time for you to figure out if you want to be in it!” he’s living his life, dealing with his drama, navigating the potholes in the road of his own damn fucking journey.

I had to sit down and think about that long and hard… not all about me.  Since fucking when?

I took a step back and looked at this whole thing and thought “Who the fuck do I think I am?” and if I had gotten that text message from him? I’d have said  ci vediamo più tardi  (Italian for see ya later)  or even baciare il mio culo (kiss my ass).

 

Let’s be honest, I suck at relationships.  I’m the perfect girlfriend… on paper.  It’s that real life face to face shit that gets me all jacked up.  On paper, behind a computer screen, I’m awesome.  I can also hide the crazy.  In real life?  not so much.

I have no real ending for this blog post.  Yes, I know, I suck at endings anyway.  Basically there is no ending because there are no answers yet.  It’s just “it’s up to you.  You know what’s going on there, I don’t.  I’ll wait to hear from you.” kind of thing.

 

Changing my mind set in the dating game

This dating business?

Sucks.

Seriously.  I know why we do this crap when we’re younger.

Because we can.

Because when we’re young, and the guy turns out to be a douchenozzle, or he blows you off, or stands you up, or disappears, or lied on his profile, or the date just sucks we truly believe “Heh, he’s the problem. Not me.”

Now that I’m older, and dating again?

Not so easy to sell myself that same bullshit. Even if it isn’t bullshit.

I haven’t blogged about it, but I’ve made no secret of it on Twitter, that a few weeks (months? really? has it been that long?) I went back to the dating website where I met Brian.  (What? It’s free!)  I’m not looking for my Prince Charming. He won’t be fishing anyway.  But it would be nice to have someone to hang out with so I don’t spend all my weekends at home alone.  Or out on the town alone.  Or drive my friends bat-shit crazy begging them to entertain me.

I made a few quick changes to my profile, added a new picture, and waited without any real expectations.  I didn’t wait long.  Hello?!? New fish in the sea, fresh meat. Everyone’s coming out to check out the new chick.  (Even a couple of girls. WOOt! Everyone wants a piece of me!) A lot of young guys, looking to hook up (ignore), a lot of ain’t-no-way-in-hell guys looking way out of their league (ignore), a few I talked to, but just didn’t feel any real need or want to talk to them on the phone or in person, and a couple I actually talked to on the phone, and a couple I actually met.

One guy in particular had some potential.  His profile had the same sense of humor I have.  I got it. I thought he gets it.  We exchanged a few messages, and then phone numbers.  Our first phone conversation was an hour long.  He’s on Twitter and Facebook (no I never went looking for him).  We exchanged real-life email addresses and emails and a few more phone calls… and then?

Gone.

Radio Silent.

His profile said “I’m taking a break. Good luck to all of you still fishing.”

But nothing to me. No phone call, no email. no text message.

I am not heartbroken over this. I figure this is part of the game.  Maybe he found someone he really connected with.  I wish him the best of luck, truly. But couldn’t he have told me that instead of falling off the face of the earth?

Or maybe he was abducted by aliens.

Or, when he got my real-life email address, he looked at my google profile, which links to my Twitter, Facebook, here, my review blog, and well, from there? It’s just follow the flashing neon lights to find out way more about me than you ever dreamed you wanted to know.

Of course, I figured, *that* had to be it.  That had to be the reason why he fell (or jumped) off the face of the earth.  He read my blog, he found my Facebook page, and my Flickr account, and everything else I have on line…

And ran scared.

Or jumped.

It took a little bit for me to realize how destructive that line of thinking was.  So what if he ran (or jumped) because of what he found?  What he found is a version of me.  Sometimes a cartoon version of me, but still… a version of me.  If he couldn’t handle it, didn’t like it, or was intimidated (yeah, that’s what it was… intimidation) he’s not the right guy.

I was all this on-line with Brian…oh wait, bad example.  That didn’t work out.

Ok, I have a lot of friends who know me in real life, and know the me that is on line and they like both versions of me.  But when push came to shove, when things fizzled, my first thought was “What was wrong with ME?” and it should have been “What the hell is wrong with him?” or “Oh, well, he just doesn’t get me.  Next!”

I had a date this weekend.  With a guy. Saturday night.  And I didn’t drink any alcohol.  (thanks Petron) The date? Almost perfect.  All on my own.  Without my best friend tequila.  And if this one doesn’t work out either?

I’ll be batting about average.

What I AM allowed to say.

I write on line, obviously.  But I have learned over the years since I started blogging, that not everything needs to be on-line.  Since I started filtering what I blog about, (and by filter, I mean actually consider that there are other people involved in some of the stories I tell) I have seen the ramifications of that decision.  I don’t write here, every single day like I used to.  BUT. The quality of my writing has improved.

But I am a writer, and I have to write.  Every. single. day.  So I write a lot of stuff that stays off-line.  Yay for me because I feel so much better once I vent.  Boo for you all because, let me tell ya, you are missing some funny funny shit.

Sorry.

Last night things came to a head with Brian.  We had been talking still.  Yes, I don’t need you all to line up for a chance to tell me just how utterly stupid that decision was.  I get it now.  The details as to what happened are unimportant.  The actual words used in the numerous text messages that were flying back and forth between our phones at speeds high enough to impress our teen aged children is unimportant to the story.

What is important?

We finally found the straw that broke the camel’s back, and we broke that bitch’s back but good.

This morning, when I got to work, because my stupid phone wouldn’t let me do it, I went on Facebook, and blocked him (he had already unfriended me.  He’s fast at that shit) and then?  Removed him, his family, and all common friends from the girls’ accounts and blocked them too.  And before you all get up in arms about me deleting people from my girls’ facebook pages, I don’t care.

It was really about time.  Neither of us could move on as long as we were still connected in any way to each other.  (that? is me being diplomatic.  What I wanted to tell you was all the things I realized last night, but because I can’t block him, or his kids, or his ex-wife, or his friends from reading this…. I will have to *ahem* shut the fuck up.)

I will go this week and roll my cell phone and the girls’ cell phone over from his account to my own account and that? Will be that.  We will be done.  The ‘divorce’ will be final.

And just in time.  I’m meeting someone new next week for drinks.

HA!

My Inner Awesome

I took a 48 hour blog/internet hiatus.  I needed a break.  When you put your life out there on display, it makes it easy to be found.  When you connect with people on so many levels (Facebook, Twitter, blogs, email, IM, texts) it makes it easy to keep track of them (and them you) whether you want to or not.  I needed to step away, and take a breath, and get back to center.

It has been 10 days now since Brian broke up with me.  For the most part I’ve held it together, I haven’t completely lost my shit.  Well, except for yesterday, but it was time I cried a really good cry.  Unfortunately I did it at work… so uh awkward.  But I got up this morning and decided two things.  1. I need a new on-line identity, that is mine, just mine, and not tied to anyone else.  and 2. I need to find my Inner Awesome again.

I have been Ms. Batman on-line for three years now, on the hope that someday I would be MRS. Batman.  That was all fine and dandy when Brian was still Batman, and I was still dreaming of white dresses, diamond rings and happily ever after.  Welcome to today, where Brian is just Brian, and our happily ever after ended December 26th.  I have spent the last year working to create a name, a brand in Ms. Batman, but well, I can spend longer creating a name/brand as myself.

Britt is right.  I do need to change my pseudonym.  When I asked her for suggestions she said “I personally like BeckyHood.”  It’s simple, it’s easy to remember, it’s exactly who I am, and I don’t ever have to change it, no matter how many horrible, terrible, no good, very necessary breaks up (God forbid) I go through.

The domain for this blog is due for renewal in a couple of weeks too.  I am not going to be changing it.  I have owned www.msbatman.com for three years now, and I can’t even begin to consider the headache it would cause me to buy a new domain (I mean trying to come up with one would take me months at best) and move everything from here to there, and then go about tracking down all the places far and wide I have spread myself all over this internet and change all my links and damn I need a drink just thinking about it.  I’ll keep the domain, and the URL.  It’s not that big of a deal.  Clearly.

So, a new pseudonym.  Or maybe not. Maybe I’ll just go with my real name.  Something to think about.  I am open to suggestions.

Next on my list: Finding my Inner Awesome.  Sara over at I run with scissors wrote a great series on Finding your Inner Awesome.  (part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6) I have an amazing group of friends.  Both here on line and IRL.  Friends I didn’t realize were friends.  I mean, we work together, so yeah, we’re work buddies, and since I live so far away from work (at least an hour) I don’t get to hang out with them after work.  But when I found myself single, and broken hearted, they all gathered around and offered support and encouragement.  They have been wonderful reminding me how awesome I am.  I don’t mean that to sound stuck up.  I mean, when all I could see was “He dumped me!”  they were there with “Hey Bitch, you bought your girls laptops for Christmas.  You are a totally awesome mom!” and “Honey, please. You have a rockin new house to live in, and your girls are amazing and you are awesome for being a single parent.”

I got comments here, on Facebook, and on Twitter reminding me that I was am amazing and awesome and that I have come a long way in the past year and this little speed bump isn’t going to slow me down.  I have had all kinds of support from everyone and I can’t begin to put into words all that it means to me, and how helpful your words of support and encouragement have been.  There are times they have been the difference between laughter and tears.  So, thank you.  Thank you. Thank you.  I just need to find my inner awesome again.  I need to be reminded that I am awesome, no matter that he doesn’t think so, he’s not the end all deciding factor on my awesomeness.

I am.

Questions of my heart

It’s very hard, when you put so much of your relationship on-line, when it all goes bad, to deal with the break up in the public eye.

I know that I don’t have to put anything on line about the break up.  Except that right after he broke up with me (via text, no less) he changed his relationship status on FB, therefore forcing my hand, and I had to acknowledge it.

And because I love(d) him, I asked that the bashing of him stop.  He (along with his son, our friends, his family) would see all that you wrote to me on my FB wall, in the comments.  And yes, I understand and appreciate your sentiments; I knew it would be better for everyone involved, in real life at least, if the bashing of him didn’t happen in public.

Keeping true to that has, at times, been difficult.

There have been days that I have sat down to write a scathing blog post reciting chapter and verse everything he did that pissed me off.  Maybe not at the time, but now, looking back pissed me off.  Just because being pissed off is much easier.  All those feelings, all that passion I felt for him, doesn’t just go away, doesn’t just turn itself off.  So, instead of channeling that passion into love, it’s easier, safer, and less painful to channel it into anger.

But it’s not fair to him.

Or his son.

Or our friends.

Or his family.

They did nothing wrong, and they don’t deserve to be caught in the cross fire, and don’t need to see this battle waged on the pages of the internet.

Brian wouldn’t wage it online anyway.

He would call me, or text me, or just turn his back and turn off my phone, and go quietly away in the middle of the night.

It’s hard to find other things to write about when your heart wants to pour itself out all over the place all the time.  It’s hard to sit down and write about something, anything else, besides the break up.

There are more than a few people I know, based on our history, think that this is just a phase for him.  That in a few weeks, he’ll miss me, he’ll come around, he’ll want to reconcile.

I’m not so sure.  Some days, I would agree with them. Other days? Not on your life.

Today?

One of those days without hope.

No, that’s not true.  Every day is full of hope.  Just today, there is no hope of any sort of reconciliation.

I’m ok with that.

And see, that’s where I am.

Taking this time (however long, or short) away from him, to figure out where I am, where I want to be, how to get there.

And most importantly, what being “there” (where ever there is) looks and feels like.

Do I want him along for the journey?

Do I want to take him on that journey with me?

Do I dig down deep inside me, in a place I have never found, but I’m sure is there, and find the strength and courage to say “I love you, more than you know, but it’s time we stop hurting each other.”

Or is that taking the easy way out?  Walking away without talking about our problems and trying to find a solution?

Or is this the solution?

I could write about

I could write about the funeral and how touching and moving and yes even in some places funny it was.

I could write about the wonderful hospice chaplin who 6 months ago didn’t know Dad at all, but in those 6 months forged a bond with him he is unlikely to forget.

I could write about the neice who wrote a goodbye letter to her ‘Uncle Grandpa’ that left the crowd humbled and in tears.

I could write about how it broke my heart to sit helplessly by while Batman and Scooter sat beside me tears streaming silently down their cheeks.

I could write about how EW decided to make this entire past week a power struggle not only with Batman over the kids, but with me over my place in the family.

I could write about how the youngest grandbaby, not yet three, told her mommy repeatedly at the gravesite service “I want to go inside. I don’t want to be here anymore” and we all silently nodded, because none of us wanted to be there anymore either.

I could write about the bottles of Martel that were placed in Dad’s casket, just in case when he got to Heaven God’s bar didn’t carry “the good stuff”.

I could write about the penny I dropped this weekend, and when Scooter picked it up and gave it back to me he said to me “Here, I love you too.”.

I could write about how I think Bat Mom summed it all up best yesterday when she told friends that “I hurt for me because I miss him so much, but I can’t hurt for him because he finally whole again.”.

I could write about how I am having a really hard time finding tears to cry for him because when I think of Dad now, I see him walking rolling hills of grass with the dogs bounding around him, barking and playing and they are all laughing and having a wonderful time.

I could write about the rest of the weekend.  I could write about how it was just family at Casa de la Batman, and that included me and the kids.  I could write about the laughter, and the memories, and the few remaining tears.

But our life is going on.  And while Dad won’t be here to physically share our days with us any more, we all know that he’s in our hearts and well, that’s comfort enough.