My proverbial dander is up

Okay, I try not to talk about politics or political scandal because... well, generally it doesn't interest me too much. But being a lifetime resident of the state of South Carolina, I'm feeling the urge to exercise my first amendment rights on the topic of our recent political embarrassment, and as a woman, I would like to express my disgust and outrage on a more personal level.

How should I put this? *ahem* MARK SANFORD YOU LYING, CHEATING, DESPICABLE PIECE OF SHIT... but that's not very original, is it? I might need a second to rethink my statement.

Well, as I said, as a lifetime resident of the great Palmetto State, you kind of learn to be the butt of the country's joke every now and then. What with our failing education systems and high rates of teen pregnancy and syphilis, we're not exactly considered among the elite of the nation. And let's not forget Miss Teen South Carolina "some people don't have maps" bimbo bitch that made our state collectively cringe for the next month as the clip made its rounds on YouTube (and thank you Carrie Prejean for erasing that memory with your bigotry and grossly fake tits; you are my hero *rolls eyes*). Don't get me wrong. I live in the most beautiful city in a beautiful, wonderful state, but even I'm a little sensitive to the national flak we get sometimes.

I'm trying to approach the subject delicately because I don't want to belittle the point I intend to make with silly name-calling and finger-pointing. I have never been a Republican, I WILL never be a Republican, and I never voted for our dear Governor Sanford. That said, I still had a moderate amount of respect for the man. In fact, I've actually met him. Granted it was... oh, 13 years ago or so back when he was just in Congress and I was in DC on a school trip. But I was impressed with him when I met him and I felt at least a little satisfaction in him getting elected governor, if it had to be a Republican. And yeah, the whole bullshit about attempting to deny the state much needed stimulus money... that was pretty embarrassing when it hit national news, but he was standing up for something he believed in, and you can't really knock somebody too much for doing that.

And then this shit comes out about him going to Argentina on some very expensive booty call, and I can't help but take it more than personally. As a woman whose husband cheated very recently, I take great personal offense on the behalf of his wife and every woman who has been or will be betrayed by a man she loves, trusts, and in whom she invests her life. Mark Sanford, not only have you shamed your family, you have shamed your whole fucking STATE. And being the Democrat I am, I could care less how much you've shamed your party as well. But it takes a real shady mother fucker to lie to everyone and ditch your FOUR KIDS ON FUCKING FATHER'S DAY to go get some ass in South America.

I've read all the articles. Read some of the published e-mails between them. I couldn't read them all... after a while the governor started turning into my husband in my head and it hurt to read. But I hope I'm not the only one who realizes that a woman scorned is a force to be reckoned with, and being in the majority of the population, I would really advise the governor to end his political career as soon as possible if he wants to avoid the fallout. His wife may be the patron saint of patience and forgiveness for all I know, but she is not nearly the only woman in his life that can make it hell. Governor Sanford, you have angered and disgusted a nation of scorned women. Prepare for the backlash.

I should put in this disclaimer that I mean that in no way as a threat to the governor. Like I said, there are plenty of women in his life that can make it hell for him... somehow I think whatever I could say to him personally will be said a hundred times over.

I'll be lucky if I'm not bald here shortly

So I got another haircut. Shorter, yes, by a good bit. But my last 'do was turning into a mullet by the day, and I can't have that, right? So I went a little modern this time, but it suits my glasses at the very least. AND I dyed my hair again... it's at least a uniform color now. That's all I ask for in life, that my hair all be the same color. I've gotten some decent reviews on the new haircut. I feel like every time I get it cut though it gets shorter and shorter and shorter. One of these days I'm just gonna shave it all off. :) That is very much a joke... as long as I stay on my medicine.

Pancakes and painkillers

Well, I went into work this morning really early. Maybe not THAT early, but I've been unemployed for seven weeks; 8 am is early for me. I seem to be doing alright... If anything I at least have a better memory than the person who was training me. Waiting tables is like riding a bike to me. Once I know where the hell to find everything and learn the menu, I shine. Okay, so I haven't learned the menu so well yet so shining isn't going to be an immediate thing, but I'm very distracted now.

I got a call from the hubs while I was at work. He needed help changing the dressings on his wounds. Like I said before, considering the reason for our split, we have a pretty amicable working relationship. And as I also said, he doesn't have much of anyone else. The girlfriend who's a nursing student was at work, so in a pinch I guess I'd do. I can tell he doesn't like asking me for help, but what am I going to do? Not help? *Sigh* I don't hate him enough for that. However, I obviously didn't know what I was getting myself into.

I should've known when he was taking the gauze off to take a shower (he was told to keep the wounds clean with soap and water) that it wasn't going to be a good situation. He was breathing heavily and muttering obscenities the entire time. So when he went to get in the shower, I excused myself for a smoke. There was nothing in that moment I could do to make his pain better, so I felt it better for myself not to listen to the pain he'd be in. One cigarette was not enough. I came back in and he was all but screaming, worse than I've ever heard from him times 1000. It was worse even in the ER when they were cleaning him up. Very, very upsetting. Mostly because I knew there was nothing I could do to make it better, being the future ex-wife and all. It's not really in my job description to hold and comfort and fawn over him. Of course I feel absolutely awful for him and, in a way, want to be there for him, and if he wasn't seeing his chick I probably would be over there a lot more. I'm just slightly comforted by the fact that he's got SOMEONE to care for him.

Anyway, I did, in fact, go into "Nurse Manda" mode once he was done taking God's name in vain and calling everything a MFer. I'm sure I didn't do nearly as good a job as his girlfriend could've done fixing him up, but I watched pretty carefully when they did him up in the ER and I'm pretty sure I covered all the basics. Ah well, if she doesn't like it, she can always fix it. He was at least appropriately grateful for my help. That's all I ask. I'm pretty sure he'd do the same for me. As I said before, I may not live with him anymore, but I didn't completely stop caring for him the second I moved out. I don't know if it's necessarily the best thing to be helping him, but there's something to be said for the golden rule.

Life gets complicated when you least expect it

So I got in a fight with my husband yesterday. Mostly I was feeling unusually bitter and upset, but I forget sometimes that this hurts him too. Anyway, I didn't feel too bad about voicing my opinions... till the accident. Someone made an illegal left hand turn in front of him at a light and he ended up on his side (not even sure if the bike rolled over him) and was pretty much literally ripped up from near his shoulder down. Thank God he was wearing his helmet, but he was still pretty effed up. Of course I was the one he called to come to the hospital with him; after all, we're technically still married and I both have his insurance card and have the authority to sign paperwork for him. And he doesn't really have anyone else. My parents kind of treat him like a pariah now, which is... not ideal. I don't hate him, I just don't want him as my husband. Anyway, he didn't break any bones, but the guy left the scene of the accident, and he didn't see the license plate of the car that did this to him and barely even saw the make of it, so it'll be hard to catch the guy. Sigh. Can't help feeling bad for him. This is where I would usually kick into "Nurse Manda" mode and do everything I could to take care of him. It was just brutal seeing him in so much pain while they were cleaning him up; I fought back tears as he tried not to scream. I did what I could though. I took him home, got his medicine for him and some ice packs... I would've done more if I hadn't had to rush to work (went well, btw). It just confuses things a little when he seems so helpless. Hard to stay mad at him, at the very least.

Yay!

I'm so excited about starting my new job today! I will not at all miss being unemployed. Having a free schedule was nice as far as the modeling thing was concerned, but the boredom that came along with 90% of my time definitely will not be missed. That and having to run up my credit card 'cause I'm broke as a joke... won't miss that either. I figure if I'm making $800 a month, which I think is well within my grasp, coupled with my disability money, I should be well taken care of when it comes to all my bills and money to live on. I should even be able to pay down my credit card pretty steadily. And the best part is that, in actuality, I really do love waiting tables. I love interacting with people and making them happy, even if it's only through being courteous and bringing them food. And the nice thing about Denny's is that they don't serve alcohol, and that takes a big load off my shoulders when it comes to training. And there are no pre-dinner salads or bread or chips and salsa or anything fancy like that... straightforward drinks, meal, drink refills, check. I like the prospect of that. No, I'm not going to make the kind of money I was making at Queen Anne's... I had times I was making $25/hr there. But I think the trade off for how much of a pain in the ass it was and having to drive to and from effing Daniel Island will be well worth it. YAY!

Recurring dreams can kiss my ass

I have a lot of recurring dreams, and they're all upsetting. Well, one is just a theme... about once a week I dream someone's trying to kill me in some horrible brutal way. Then there's the one when I'm back on the rowing team at Clemson. I imagine I dream about that so much because it was borderline-traumatic. I was no good at it and they never let me forget it. That and the whole permanent injury thing. *sigh* Then there's the one where I'm back working at Cisco's. I think that one stems from wishful thinking. I miss working there a lot, and I often dream that they didn't really close down. :( The last recurring dream I have is the worst though, the most hurtful. It bothers me even more than some maniac trying to kill me. It's the dream closest to reality... discovering my husband was cheating on me. It's always the same girl, the first one (who he SWEARS he never had sex with... whatever). Even after all this time, all I've been through since, I still have that dream once or twice a week. Not the exact same dream... different iterations of it. But I always wake up on the verge of tears feeling like my heart has been freshly broken. My doctor yesterday said I'm doing remarkably well for having gone through my separation, but how do you feel anything but relief when you leave someone who keeps breaking your heart over and over and over? I still have a lot of feelings for him, but they're not the same. They stopped being the same when he told me he loved me like a sister and wasn't at all attracted to me. I've lost 98% of my respect for him. I don't put him on a pedestal like I did with the ex before him. He doesn't deserve the love and adoration I had for him and he doesn't deserve to have someone around who took care of him the way I did. I can stay on friendly terms with him, and I want to, but he's not some high and mighty character in my opinion. He could have done a lot to make things right, and he didn't. I didn't give up on our marriage, he did. I gave up on being treated like a roommate instead of a wife. I gave up on having my self esteem constantly ripped to shreds. I gave up on being treated like I can't fucking take care of myself, that I need HIM of all people to take care of me. How the hell can you take care of someone when you hurt them so badly and have no remorse for it? *Sigh* I'm just bitching.

For as smart as I am, I sure am stupid...

hung waaaaaaaaaaaay over

Drinking is bad, m'kay? That's why I don't do it. No, I don't not do it because it's "bad", I don't do it because I get no social benefit out of being drunk 'cause I'm already personable and it makes me sick as a damn dog. SO THEN WHY DID I DO IT?! I was fine after the first Grand Ma, fine after the Royal Motherfucker, fine after the Firefly and lemonade... then Patron factors into the equation. Tequila and I have a hate-hate relationship... I hate the taste and it gets a kick out of making me miserable. But for some reason I had the urge to shoot straight tequila. That was really dumb. And then who would turn down a free shot? Thank God I had a designated driver, or I'd be crashing on the back porch of Juanita Greenberg's. Or more likely, in the bathroom of Juanita Greenberg's. But I haven't felt this terrible for non-medical reasons in a very, very long time. I blame the tequila, not myself for having consumed it. :P I didn't even get fun drunk. I was okay to stumbling drunk (and WHY did I wear heels? Oh right, 'cause drinking's stupid) to puking four times on the way back to my apartment, including in some poor guy's driveway downtown, in no time flat. Not my proudest moment. I seem to be having a severe lack of proud moments lately. Wonder why that is.