Archive for November, 2008


Posted in minx, people who should know a damn sight better, thinky with tags on November 22, 2008 by evilminx

You know who you are. I don’t even know if you still read here. And even if you do, whether anything I have to say will resonate, let alone have any effect.

But I have to say it, nonetheless, because your behavior disgusts me so utterly, and this is my vent space.

Shame on you.

She needs you, and where are you? So self-involved and wrapped up in yourself that you can’t afford a drop of compassion to send her way.

You, whom she idolized.

You, who could have asked her for the moon, and had her combing the internet for travel agents who flew there.

You, for whom she’d have done anything because that’s who she is. The best friend a girl can have.

Every girl, that is, except you. For you, it’s all too much drama. Of course the drama in your life you swing about you, shedding droplets evenly in a wide circumference. But that doesn’t count, does it?

Over the last 18 months, you have foisted your myriad problems and grievances with the sad little way in which your life is unfolding — oh woe is me! nothing goes right for me! everything is bad for me! — on those around you in the blogosphere, as well as, presumably, in real life, akin to so much fertilizer, hitting any and all who pass your way.

You have attempted to shamelessly milk largely undeserved (so it would seem in retrospect), sympathy from anyone who would pay you even a nanobyte of attention.

But when it comes to someone else who needs you, someone who has been there for you time after time after time — and i actually find it hard to comprehend that this has to be explained in words of one syllable to a grown and highly-educated woman over the age of 40 — and suddenly it’s all “too much drama.”

Shame on you.

Rot in hell, you cold-hearted bitch.


Like bad pizza

Posted in minx on November 17, 2008 by evilminx
I did not have a peaceful night. I tossed and turned from the wee small hours until i had to get up and get going.
This was as a result of worrying about something that keeps repeating on me like bad pizza.
I am talking about my husband, his control-freak manner and how i deal with it — whcih i hardly need add is not well at all.
10 years of being suppressed and controlled and stifled and suffocated might go a long way to explaining why i have such an acute fear of choking. Metaphorically, i have been choking for years.
Recently, over the last few years, the pressure upon me to succumb and say niothing exploded, and i found myself acting out. I do not aportion responsibility for my actions to anyone but myself, but the catalysts and reasons behind them came not from me.
How i react to him has constantly been ineffective. The articulacy that you see from me in my writings, and for the most part, when i speak, has no effect on him. On the contrary, he calls it “your (my) psychobabble bullshit”. Since these are the only tools i have with which to communicate, i can only understand that he sees me as less than a submissive — as simply part of the furniture.
When we agreed to reconcile in May, i truly believed that he was capable of listening to me, and more to the point, hearing me. That we had communication, borne of many years of being together, was the sole reason that i agreed to stay with him.
Events of the past few months would prove me wrong, sad, and deluded once more.
He simply does not listen to me. My voice is of no consequence. Therefore, to him, I am of no consequence. It happens over and over again, and I stay, deluding myself that it is in everyone’s best interests.
I don’t know how to deal with this. Advice welcome, but for the love of gods, make it constructive.