UNCLE JIMMY wrote: Bugster2 wrote:Two weeks???
Yep! Filed for Divorce after 2 weeks.
He had a Love Child 6 years ago. That wasn't the reason for the break up,
but the fact that HE wanted nothing to do with the child.
DD found out about it....1 month before the wedding.
I lost $55,000.00 + for the wedding.
I remember your telling us about that, Jimmy, and the financial hit you took. Not that it matters now, but most of that money probably wouldn't have been recoverable even a month before. Personally, I'm NOT a big wedding kind of gal and never grew up like some chicks do, always dreaming of what I'd wear, what I wanted at the wedding, how many bridesmaids I'd have, etc. I'm not a shy person or anything (I can just HEAR all of you going, "REALLY, Michelle? You think we don't know that?!") but I would be uncomfortable being the center of attention at that kind of get together.
And though I know some women (and some women's mothers, too) don't blink an eye at spending that kind of money on a wedding, I could never do it. Don't get me wrong -- I can SPEND SOME MONEY but just not on a one-day party that the wedding couple hardly get to enjoy with all the hoopla they've included. And I know some women would cringe to hear me call a wedding a "party," it really is a one-day party no matter what you call it. Me? If I knew you'd have been willing to spend that much, I would've asked you for $25,000 and put it down on a home!
There was a time where I didn't think I would ever be able to commit to marrying anybody as I just didn't think I was suited for marriage. I had three serious boyfriends in my life -- the first one, Bobbie (everyone else called him Robert but he told me his name was Bobbie when I met him) was an idiot I idolized for 3 years and then dumped when I realized he was not only an idiot, but a jealous idiot who treated me like dirt most of the time until I dumped him. THEN he begged and begged but it was too freaking late and I felt lucky to be rid of him and ticked at myself for putting up with his crapola for three years.
The second one, Larry, was one of the nicest, kindest men I ever knew, but he was just too nice for me. I didn't like myself when I was with him. I'm a pretty strong personality (I hear you guys again saying, "Really?! Duh!") and he wasn't. I never wanted to be the boss but I had to be with Larry, as he was just that laid back and kind of a dreamer. I just KNEW he was wrong for me and though he wanted to get married (they ALL freaking wanted to get married way too soon to suit me!), I knew in the back of my mind it wouldn't work.
I waited on a couple one day when I was working as a waitress/cocktail waitress. I knew the husband, as he was a doctor and he would come in with his doctor buddies all the time (the place was right across the street from one hospital and around the corner from another so we were full of nurses who, of course, would draw the doctors in). He was a sweet man but kind of a "weak sister" like Larry. Anyway, he came in for lunch with his wife one day, and she blew me away. She just TOOK OVER EVERYTHING. "Michelle, Dr. Martinez would like another beer." "Michelle, Dr. Martinez would like more mayonnaise for his sandwich." "Michelle, Dr. Martinez is ready for his check now." AND I SAW MYSELF! I thought in 20 years, I would be just like that bossy bi*ch, and I didn't want to be like that. I wanted an equal not someone who I could boss around. If you lay down on the ground long enough asking me to walk on you, I will not only walk on you but I tend to tap dance over you wildly.
Less than a week passed and I told Larry I wanted to date other people. He said not to tell him when I had a date and was pretty broken up over my decision, as we'd dated for 3 years (another 3 years with the wrong guy -- I had a thing going on at 3 years evidently). Of course, my sister phoned him and described the first man I went out with (Brian), and he asked me about it, as he knew Brian vaguely from the place I worked (I'd introduced him to a couple of people who were customers as we didn't hang out in there as the owner/manager finally decided that was a bad idea for employees so he forbade it). I admitted it, of course, and told him he'd told me not to tell him when I had a date. He wouldn't tell me who told him but of course, I knew it was my sister, as she was that hateful. She didn't hurt me at all by doing that but she hurt Larry, as she gave him someone to blame our breakup on instead of facing the truth as I'd told him, we just weren't right for each other and I would make his life miserable and he'd end up hating me and me him.
My sister and her husband had given up their apartment as they were renovating a big three-plex they'd purchased but it wasn't ready on time so they moved into my mom's house where I was living. My brother lived at college. I confronted her about telephoning Larry (she'd never phoned him before and had to dig around a bit to find out his phone number) and she was so nasty about admitting it and telling me something like "tough sh*t," I slapped her face so hard my hand stung for hours after; my brother, who was home at the time, pulled me off of her or I would've probably killed her. It was the one and only time I ever put my hands on someone except for slapping a drunk stranger's face one time after he hollered vulgar stuff at me in a bar when I'd told him to leave me alone about 10 times.
I told my mother to make sure my sister stayed out of my affairs, crying over what she'd done to poor Larry, and to make sure she left me alone while she was living there with her husband. My mom said she wasn't going to get involved, to which I replied, "Okay, but don't be mad when you come home from work one day and all of their clothes are out on the front lawn," and pranced out of the room! Their big Malamute had already knocked a lamp over from a table onto a sofa in her den and the light bulb had started the sofa smouldering and thank God, not flaming. My father was home in bed as he had Parkinson's and didn't get around very well; he finally woke up when my mom's dog would not stop barking outside his bedroom door! The whole two-story house was already full of smoke when he woke up and was finally able to get up to check and he was able to pull the cushion off the sofa and throw it into the backyard. So what I'm getting to is my mom DID tell Charlotte to lay off as I LIVED THERE (plus I was a good kid, helped to take care of my father, and would stop, pick up a nice roast and have dinner ready when she walked in from work if I was able) and that she and her husband were just part-timers. (I eavesdropped on the conversation, of course.) I know my poor mom was probably picturing clothes all over the front lawn and us screaming profanities at one another, as we both cussed like merchant seamen! (My mom NEVER cursed and hated it, of course, but my father did; my brother didn't curse either but Charlotte and I could turn the air blue!)
Anyway, I fell in love with Brian and he's no pushover so I had met my match. But I still didn't think I was marriage material. I moved in with him (he insisted on going with me to tell my parents I was moving in to his apartment which I'm sure my parents appreciated as I tried to talk him out of going with me as I knew my mom would not approve). My mom asked why we didn't get married and I said, "I don't want to marry him and he doesn't want to marry me -- that's why." She said she didn't approve but I knew that's all she would say as she wasn't a nag. My father was always the "good guy" so he didn't say much. After he died not long after (maybe three months later), I asked my mom what he really said, as he liked to be the good guy to your face and then ask her to kill us when we were out of earshot. She said he said, "Who knows, Mary? If we were their age today, maybe we'd be living together." Of course, she disagreed as she was a very, very serious Catholic and would've never done that.
After a couple of years, three probably, Brian said he wanted to get married but I wasn't willing. He asked me every so often and I'd just say I'd think about it, hoping he'd just forget about it. We really HAVE been together for the 38 years I brag about and celebrate all 38 but for 14 of those years (yes, Virginia, I lived with him for 14 years prior to agreeing to get married) we simply lived together. (I never say we're celebrating 38 years of marriage but rather that we've been "together" 38 years so technically I'm not lying about it.) After a while we just felt married and once we decided we weren't going to have any kids, what was the rush?! So we met and moved in together in 1979 and got married in 1993! And people would ask us CONSTANTLY why we didn't get married and he'd respond, "She won't have me!" Sometimes some bi*ch would say, "He hasn't married you YET?" and Brian would jump in quickly and say, "It's not me, it's her -- she won't have me!" But you know what most of those SAME PEOPLE said when we were getting married? "Why on earth are you getting married?" Idiots!
Heh heh heh -- another BOOK for you guys to read. Please don't boot me out of here for talking too much! Speaking of books, I'm pretty much an open one, no?