To the Skank Suddenly Interrupting My Life Again...Part 2

Part 1 is the immediately previous post, here. I'll gladly wait while you bring yourself up to speed if you like.

Now then, let's continue where we left off, shall we?

Looking back, I now see the irony in you telling me he wasn't good enough for me. But I guess I should almost be flattered, in a fucked up way, since you wanted him for yourself. That - to me - could be read as "I want him, so I tell you he's not good enough for you because you're better than me." Not that I needed you to tell me that. I knew that long before the whole ordeal. Anyway, moving right along....

(

I'm a patient person, and I can tolerate someone wanting what I've got, no problem. What I cannot and will not tolerate is someone actively trying to take what's mine, by whatever means they can. That's exactly what you did. You literally told MY husband that you were not only attracted to him, but you wanted to be with him intimately. Then you approached me to ask my blessing/permission to kiss him "to see if there's anything other than attraction there." Since I'm a rather liberal person (read: I didn't think there was any chance in hell of it ever actually happening), I said fine, as long as your husband and I both knew about it before it happened. Situation covered; I forgot all about it. All well and good for a while, then forgetting backfired.

So, sure...you wanted my husband. Great. You knew the rules, and you swore to follow them. Those rules held, until right after we got a truck. You switched things and our (MY) Ford Explorer Sport Trac was your new dream vehicle, rather than a Cadillac Escalade - provided The Husband was the one driving. You drove him up to get it from where he'd had to park it around the corner so that we could go home, and for whatever reason you were taken by the moment. I knew nothing at the time, beyond the fact that it took you two forever to g get my truck and get back. Upon getting home, it was visible on The Husband's face that all was not normal. Then texts began pouring in from you, talking about your feelings, and did he feel the same way about you. My personal favorite was when you asked if he'd felt what you did. Not knowing what you were talking about, I asked him once more what had taken so long to go get the truck, since it was just around the corner. The answer to that question still brings me to the edge of a murderous rage, now, more than a year later.

As it turned out, you insisted on driving The Husband around the corner to get my truck for a number of your own reasons. For starters, you wanted to get away from the 4 of us you left behind (your own husband and daughter, and my son and myself), to be alone with The Husband and not have to mind your words and actions. Secondly, you wanted to drive *my* truck, without having to ask my permission. (Anyone who knows anything about me knows that when it comes to what's MINE, if you ask you can have the world, but just doing behind my back will result in death.) And then we come to the absolute deal-breaker. You decided that since (conditional) permission had been given, and the topic discussed in general, it was perfectly acceptable for you to take MY HUSBAND by the face and kiss him as passionately as you possibly could (read: cleaning HIS tonsils with YOUR tongue). Clearly he's just as guilty of letting these things happen as you are of causing them to happen, since *neither* of you bothered to say a word of it to either of the remaining spouses when you finally got back with the vehicles.

To say I was upset would be like saying 9/11 was simply sad.

In reality, I think the firey rage that burned in my soul melted the paint off the siding of my parents' house. Immediately, I brought it to your husband's attention, and proceeded to flip the ever-loving fuck out. I literally could not form full coherent thoughts, let alone sentences. The fact that The Husband was holding my sleeping son probably saved his life. The only thing saving your life was my advanced stage of pregnancy. I didn't deem you worthy of the possible danger to myself and my unborn daughter that would come from dealing with your cheap, skeezy ass. So I did the next-best thing, in my mind. I sent you a series of text messages, detailing the numerous reasons you would never have ANY form of contact with The Husband, EVER again, lest you create a situation where I took legal action and had restraining orders placed on you. As I fully expected, you denied EVERYTHING...until your husband confronted you, and you sang like a bird! Then you had the nerve to yell at *me* for being mad, saying I'd no right to be mad because I'd OK'd it before. As it turned out, you'd completely ignored the part where I'd said NOT WHEN YOU'RE ALONE, OR WITHOUT TELLING US FIRST, so of course you didn't see any problem with it.

There was intense arguing about it for probably a solid week. During which you tried to tell me the whole thing was my fault for being pregnant and "depriving The Husband of his most basic desires," calling me selfish. After days of (what I now see as) pointless back-and-forth arguing, I quit trying to get past your stupidity to make you see the reality and the wrongness (shut.the.fuck.up, it IS TOO a word), and I just ceased all contact. You raged on for days, hurling insults (that did and didn't have your desired effect), and finally got the clue and stopped. Any further conversations were had between your husband and myself, since we were the only two could talk about it without feeling the urge to rip each other's heads off.

Things carried on that way through Christmas, Boogaloo's birthday, The Husband's and my anniversary, New Year's Eve, and most of New Year's Day. Then when your husband got arrested you had nowhere else to turn, couldn't afford to bail him out yourself, didn't know anyone else with the resources to do it without judging you, and so you turned back to us.

Right now, however, I need to take some time to cool down and stop shaking with repressed rage. I'll come back to this later.

To the Skank Suddenly Interrupting My Life Again...Part 1

I cut you out New Year's Day when you decided I was no friend to you because I behaved like any decent human would. I don't expect you to understand that. I'm well aware you're on too many prescriptions for your defective brain to know anything about decency. That's why you've conned teams of doctors into giving you Rx's for pain-killers and ADD meds to further imbalance your already dangerously unstable brain. That's why you got through the county's psych evaluation and into their system for services in only 2 days when most people's cases take 3 *weeks* to finalize...and why you were proud of it. That's why you kicked your daughter's father - your husband - out of your mother's house because he wasn't fulfilling your new and unpredictable demands, despite your not speaking to him for over a month. But most of all, your complete lack of decency accounts for you trying to ruin my marriage, and then asking my husband to father the children you want to continue having, by any means necessary.

Because I know just how blind you are to your own short-comings, allow me to walk you through some of the life-altering hell I went through while attempting to maintain a "friendship" with you. A "friendship" that turned out to be very volatile, and absolutely fair-weather in its one-sidedness. Let's start from the start, just so I don't have to take into account your absolute ignorance and back-track constantly, shall we.

We met because you were married to a guy with less job experience than you, so he made less money, he got you pregnant, you quit your job "to prepare to be a SAHM", and you had to move back to your mom's to avoid having to pay rent. I was friends with your younger sister, so you hated me just for that. Then you found out I was married to a deployed soldier and didn't have many expenses, so I had some money to play with. (Do you see how shallow you seemed, even that early on?) You slowly turned me on your own sister because you weren't able to control her and she was everything you wanted to be (read: pretty, funny, personable). Somehow, you presented a moving, believable case, and I fell for it. I became "friends" with you and your husband.

Once you hooked me in, you played all your sympathy cards just right. I felt bad for you, and I tried to help you out however you needed it. I can't remember how many times I helped out with groceries when I wasn't even eating the food I paid for. The cell phone bills that you struggled to stay current on? Never have I pumped so much money (that I didn't even earn) into a service that I never used! Then when you had to decide between having electricity or water, I eliminated the need to make that decision too. My (husband's) money got your car out of the tow lot on a couple of occasions. There were countless other times that I chipped in, and I got nothing out of handing you money for whatever the need was at that moment. I remember the last bill I paid was the cable bill - because everyone was so tired of missing their shows and making-do with watching movies and T.V. shows on DVD. I got your daughter 90% of her initial wardrobe as your baby shower present. Then your daughter was born and I was constantly over there, helping you take care of her - and don't forget I was parenting my own baby all on my own while doing this, too.

Then I had to take a break from being your bitch because my husband came home from Iraq and I was 7mos pregnant with my *second* child. You were less than pleased that I wasn't over every day to play with your baby and do everything else while you sat around. You constantly texted me, telling me that my husband wasn't good to me; that I could do so much better; that I should hang out with you instead of him while he was actually home. Then you crossed a line with him that I had never even seen coming.

I have to stop here because I can't handle reliving this right now. I'll continue later.

to make something else easier to do...ignore this post

Just a post to make it easier to link to these pictures for someone else's project...feel free to ignore it.

My Letter of Intent

Dear Body Fat,
Your days are decidedly numbered. It's time for us to part ways, because you're holding me back. Am I making myself perfectly clear? We're through. That's right, I'm breaking up with you.
You've been making my legs and tush all jiggly for the last 20 months, quite easily. To say that I'm not pleased with that fact is far more than an understatement.
Done, over, outie for good. Consider this your eviction notice, and take heed of my saying I'm taking my body back from your fatty control. No more nasty empty calories to feed you, no more sugary snacks, no more junk food, no more big portions. Bur most of all, I'm callin' it quits with liquor.
I hope I make you miserable, Fat, because you've made me just as miserable. So this is the end of our story. DONE.
If you'd like to change yourself, that's a perfectly acceptable option. So make your decision, and if you're down for my new program, you make damn sure you report for work-outs, and you be 100% committed to the mission. We start tomorrow.

Unkindly yours,
Caitlin



Hey Momma -
This one's for you...since I know you're reading now, and all. Hopefully I'll hold your interest and make you proud. The possibility of entertaining you is just icing on the cake.