Showing posts with label What's She Doin'?. Show all posts
Showing posts with label What's She Doin'?. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 3, 2012


Ideally, all comments and emails received to BBG HQ would be flattering, gushing with praise and compliments and promising gifts of precious jewels, chocolate, a bevvy of attractive men for my basest gratifications, and perhaps unicorn sacrifices. 

(Daaaaaaamn.  You can find anything on Google!)

Also, ideally I would be 6' tall, 60 lbs lighter and several million wealthier, people I loved would live forever and always be healthy and happy and I'd actually shit lil' soft nuggets of gold that I could Swap for Cash (<-- is that a real thing?) or some such deal.  Unfortunately, like the control I have over Uncle John and myself (aka: PRACTICALLY NONE)--   is also the exact amount of influence I have over making *ideally*... reality.

I'm a live your life out loud girl for the most part.  (<--The, *I have a blog part* is just one indication of that.)  This is either extremely off putting or refreshingly appealing, depending on your disposition and inclinations.  I know some people like me because I can be an ass, and I know some people dislike me because I can be an ass.  And I'm fine with that. There is a statistic that one out of every 4 people doesn't like you.  Just plain doesn't, never will.  I've always figured I'm gonna have a damn good time with the other three, so whateves, the 4th can look away and live their own life....Peace be with you and all.  Which is also predominately, how I chose to live my life.  Generally, fuckers, assholes and dolts impact me zero, because I have nuthin' meaningful to do with 'em.  I actively try to limit my exposure to them.  Most of the time other than making good fodder for some cracked out tale I'll share here (or somewhere whilst sharing a cocktail as we laugh our asses off), I have no reason to engage with them at all.  As you know I'm pretty much of a live and let live-er, so I keep steppin' and get on with my life.

Except when I can't.

And apparently ladies and gentlemen of 'da BBGWorld, we've come to the time in the program when ignoring stupid has passed...

The background on what is about to unfold is this: one of my besties, divorced geez, a decade ago?  A few years ago she married a wonderful man.  Frankly, every time I hear a story about how he continually mans up to care for my Godkids makes me love him more and more.  Her ex has also remarried, a couple of times, most recently several years ago. 

Now as any of you readers who's ever been friends with someone who is divorced knows, it's rare to be friends with both parties.  This particular case is no different.  I am 100% friends with LB2'd (<-- that girl is my sister by choice)  and am zero % friends with the ex.  Do I/did I ever wish a pox upon his house?  No.  Why?  Because shit happens.  Relationships don't work out.  They were grown ups, making grown up decisions.  And I'm a fervent believer in the power of 'you being in charge of you'. 

In complete truthiness, I actually never had a problem with the ex even as they tried to figure out the landmine laden field of trying to deal with each other as ex's.  And again, as anyone familiar with divorce knows, this is a field that can get gruesome if both (um, all) parties aren't to their very core focused on having it be a more peaceful or pleasant place.

Unfortunately, there came a time where because some situations directly involving my Godkids, I came to have a pretty fuckin' big problem with him.    Those issues were worked out by the courts.   Which to give you perspective, the courthouse was the last time I saw him, and the first time I'd seen him in probably 8 years.  My interaction with him is, well, once in a decade.  And we didn't even speak.  ...So it's not exactly like a Springer show up in here.

Or it wasn't...

Until these started to arrive. 

Completely outta the blue. 

Like a tornado of crazy.

(The last name has been blocked out to protect the privacy of my
Godkids, not the sender.   I would NEVER want them
exposed to this cracked out bullshit.)

Notice how that was sent to me on Christmas.   Nuthin' says 'Merry Christmas' quite like spending time with your child and spouse sending nonsensical, erroneous emails (in as much as I've also NEVER mentioned his name... Go ahead, top left, that lil' search field?  You can search any word;  anyfuckin'thing to see what's (who's) ever been mentioned in the BBGW.  I'll wait.).

Oh, I've mentioned him.  This blog is about my life.  And those fuckin' kids have been a large part of my life since they each drew their first breaths.  I've even had a conversation with their mother about how if we ever were not friends, (<-- because I like to pretend never-gonna-happen situations of all kinds~ I have a very vivid imagination)  that she'd just have to get ok with the fact even if we didn't talk, I'd still talk to the kiddies.  After an aggressive giggle she told me, "those kids will have stopped talkin' to me before they'd ever stop talkin' to you!"  Which is only funny because it's true.  Not that the kids will stop talking to her, but that they're always gonna talk to me.  I'm muther fuckin' Aunt BBG.  And while they don't know e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g about an Aunt BBG, they do know that I'm 11 digits and 60 minutes away.  Always.  For anything.  And forfuckingever. 

But I digress, my point is that, yes, I have grown, by his actions-- (not by his relationship with their mother...again, they are grown ups and in charge of themselves, and I don't know they they've even spoken in more than a year?)   -- and treatment of my Godkids to loath and pity him.  And I have said things to that effect.  Without, until now making it any sort of big fucking deal, certainly nothing that hogged up an entire post. 

However two salient points should be understood here;  A)  *This *is my world.  Officially.  See (look up) it even has my moniker.  So, I'll say what the fuck ever I want to, when the fuck ever I want to.  If you like it, come, visit, play, comment.  If you don't, there are without hyperbole, gazillions of other places on the web one can occupy their time that do not include here, and I cordially invite you to do so.  I don't want people to hang out here who don't like it here.  BBGWorld is a free range zone.  Nobody is forced to be here. (Note to self:  Concoct a way that people are forced to be here, that could be reeeeeally good for the blog.)   II)  If what I've said in the pages of the BBGWorld is the worst thing a bestie has ever said about an ex, then that ex would probably consider themselves fortunate, in the big scheme of things. 

You may be asking yourself, 'but BBG, you can be an ass, what role did you play in getting this can of crazy stirred up'?. 

Valid question astute reader. 

In the name of full disclosure and hand on bible swearing:  I opened that email.


Although I guess I should mention, that I opened that email after noticing that I had had a reader from coinkadinkily the same city/state as our above emailer (as I come to find out), who logged 53.25 hours between the day before Christmas Eve and the several days after Christmas.  Which I only noticed as it struck me odd that someone would be soooooo entertained by the random/wacky's that life brings me have spent so much family/friends/holiday time wasting it here, but who am I in charge of?  That's right, me.

So yes.  I had the unmitigated gal to open an email.  That's my official part in the tornado of crazy.

Much like a tornado hop's and scotches around randomly and frenetically, I also received several more emails to my Facebook.  Now am I friends with this person?  No.  We have no connection.  We have never uttered as much as a word to one another.  Not even the day I saw her at the courthouse. 

I, obviously wrote off the first email (and the subsequent 4) and the Friends Request as perhaps some fleeting lapse of judgement. 

(Please note:  Busy holidays, busy livin' my damn life and not being
Facebook obsessed and stalking strangers is not, I repeat, NOT an agreement. 
Oh, and the fact that these weren't even found for days 
because we're not friends and have zero connection and they didn't
arrive in my regular inbox, also, does not constitute an agreement.)

Like any child throwing a tantrum sometimes it's just best to let them wear themselves out and go to sleep. 

Unfortunately, this time, no, that doesn't seem to be the case. 

(Recieved yesterday)

Until now I have chosen to remain silent about these ta-doin's.  Because while my Godkids know nothing about the existence of the BBGWorld, someday they probably (?) will, and I try to always be cognizant of the lessons they are learning from how I live my life, even if that won't happen for years. 

I've also not replied because I'm reality based and reason-based, and it seems rifuckin'diculous to me, to get involved in some sort of tit-for-tat when the last mention of the subject was more than a year ago, making it a non-story in my book.  Tryin' to stir some shit with people you know nuthin' about and have no legitimate reason to be screwin' with for absolutely no valid reason, strikes me as the actions of an immature high schooler.  ...But I think we can all agree that that ship has sailed at the hand of the sender of these communications. 

So let me say this once and clearly, and for the official record~

I don't know what you think is going on here.  You Facebook stalked me (we don't even have friends in common, so that took some work) and made a friends request, emailed multiple times and for extra measure invoked some misguided threat.  You spent 50+ hours in my World.  We have never spoken.  This isn't a thing.  There is nothing between us.  The mess you're trying to instigate is meaningless in the sense that other than you trying to stir some shit, there is nothing to be stirred.  Your trying so hard to make it so, is thirteen.  Wait.  I actually know some 13 year old girls and they're not even that obtuse.  Chronologically you are supposed to be a grown up. You've had every opportunity to leave well enough alone. (<-- like most reasonable, rational adults would find their way to do.)   

And yet, instead, you've made 6 further attempts to stir some shit over stuff that isn't even happening.  Which BTW looks nuthin' but crazy.  While I seriously doubt your capacity for critical thinking, and doubt your receptivity for what really is sound advice, you should talk to someone mature in your life because, really, it's time to strongly consider what's actually going on here.  I mean, 50 hours and 6 emails by anyone other than the Unabomber is a whole lotta dedication, commitment and time invested on someone who you don't know, and has never said literally 'boo' to you.  I barely have time to do and care for and keep up with people who I love and care about and those who care and love me.  So I obviously don't  comprehend giving that type of time, effort and power to someone or something that is truly a non-factor in my life.  But that's just me.  The only person I'm tenuously in charge of. 

Ideally it would be delightful if you'd use this opportunity to break contact entirely.  It's the non-kooky mature thing to do.   Bottom line?  Other than sketchy scenarios by your hand, like, um, exactly this situation, I don't have any real desire/reason to ever mention, think or wonder about your (or your husbands) existence at all, or as I like to call it, exactly like until two weeks ago.  This blog, as the title blurb details, is "Where my life converges with the interweb. Follow the wild, mild and wacky adventures of a Big Brown Girl as I navigate life."  *This* is part of where I do my living with my friends and strangers who like it here.  If you don't want to be part of it, simply stop inserting yourself into my life (and blog).  Easy peasy.  And entirely your choice.  I've started a new label, "What's She Doin'?" to house this matter.  Ideally, I'd like this to be it's only entry. 

I already feel bad in my soul that I've given 45 minutes to this post that I'm never getting back, three quarters of an hour over actual no-reason-for-bullshit.  Which is exactly how I know it's time to wrap this up and return to well, anything else more worthy of my attention.  Whooooooooo's up for Tiddlywinks?

...Now, for the rest of you who are in fact contemplating how you can offer up a unicorn sacrifice, or provide me with the winning numbers to an upcoming lottery drawing, or strangers randomly stopping by for the first time (certainly thinking, what the fuck is goin' on here?); My somewhat sincere apologies for being exposed to this level of sheer, uncalled for nonsense you now have to know exists in the world. 

This, I suppose is the good/bad/ugly part of me living out loud, and you being a reader/witness to BBG history in the making. You never know what is going to be going on in my world on any given day.  And this was today.  Ideally, we'll be able to continue with just my regular, standard issue BBG brand of crazy from here on out.  Which not to ruin the surprise involves me and a cat.  A crazy ass cat.... 

Until then:

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