Oh, and a lovely little ditty from my husband:
"He's making a list, checking it twice
Gonna get shitty gifts from his wife."
I love Slate. He's just awesome.
Laters

"There are millions of old people wandering around in this world. They're sick as hell, but they'll live forever. But this guy, he's got a kid; he matters to someone. He's just young enough to die. Hell, why not? It's christmas."
Poignant.
Laters

I finally told him to fuck off. That he'll never be the man I need, never be good enough for me. That the only thing I wanted to hear from him ever again is "Here's the money I owe you". Hell, I don't even care if he adds "bitch" to the end of that. So I'm no longer answering his phone calls. I've been thinking about everything lately, all the big things, of course, but mostly the little things. The important things. And I don't love him. I would have continued lying to myself-and him-about it if he hadn't thrown me away. But fuck him, you know? And the mother fucker had the nerve to call back and say "that's not all right." DUH, it's not all right with you, asshole. But this isn't one of those "no is not an option" things. I'M done whether he is or not. I'm gone. And as far as I'm concerned, he can get fucked in the ass by a donkey.
Laters