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The Bitch Is Back

March 14, 2013

It’s been about a year since I last posted on this blog.

I’m not entirely sure why I stopped writing.   I could blame it on a wicked case of writer’s block, but I’d be lying.  There are dozens of legitimate reasons I can give for it —my business really took off in 2012 and I got too busy, there are some pending legal actions I’m involved in and my attorney recommended I back off for a bit (more on this later) etc.

But the fact is, I just didn’t want to write anymore.

That sounds so strange to me now, because it’s against my nature.  A writer writes.  That’s just how it is.

So I’ve decided to stop fighting nature and start again, the way I did four years ago:

Today is my husband’s 41st birthday…and right now I am on a flight to Washington, D.C. I’ve been to D.C. before about 11 years ago, but I’m more excited about this trip because I get to rewrite history.  Well, my history at least.

When you go through a life altering event such as a divorce, you tend to start partitioning your memories into different stages of your life:  “during my first marriage,”  “after the divorce,” etc.

A little story…

During my first marriage (see how I did that?), just after Monkey was born, we took our first family vacation to Washington, D.C. to visit my in-laws who were living in Virginia at the time.  Overall it was a great trip.  We saw all the major monuments and museums and even got private tours of the White House and the Pentagon, which at the time was a big deal (less than one year after 9/11) thanks to my then brother-in-law pulling some strings.

However there is one memory that haunts me from that trip.

It was about five in the afternoon and we had been on a marathon site-seeing tour in 100 degree heat since early morning.  We picked up some sandwiches and decided to have a picnic on a bench near the Washington Monument.  

At this point our 6-month-old Monkey was hot, tired, hungry and losing her shit. I held her, trying to soothe her, walk with her, feed her, whatever.  My ex sat on the bench eating his sandwich, glaring at me and getting more and more pissed off with every passing minute.  Eventually she quieted down, but the damage had been done.  He was angry and frustrated—at the baby for crying and at me for not being able to calm her.  A large marital spat ensued right there in the shadow of the monument resulting in my sandwich being thrown on the ground and me pushing my baby away in her stroller.

And that’s my Washington Monument story.  It kind of sucks. And to this day every time I watch that scene from Forrest Gump where he and Jenny jump into the reflecting pool to find each other, it’s all I think about.

SO, on this trip to D.C. my wonderful husband and I will stand in front of the Washington Monument and kiss, thereby replacing the memory of my only visit to D.C. (during my first marriage) with the memory of my best trip to D.C.

It’s all about new beginnings.

5 Comments leave one →
  1. March 14, 2013 4:18 pm

    That sounds like a great plan. Glad to see you blogging again.

  2. March 14, 2013 5:33 pm

    Bout time you came back, glad to see it! Enjoy your trip, Happy Birthday Brent!

  3. March 14, 2013 6:23 pm

    Like! Have a great trip!

  4. TNT permalink
    March 15, 2013 9:54 am

    You are freaking AWESOME! Go get it, girl! Have a blast! And I am so glad you are back!!!

  5. Tracey permalink
    March 16, 2013 3:54 pm

    That’s a fabulous plan!!!

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