Monday, December 19, 2011
After a quite stressful week leading up to the wedding, I finally had a bit of time to relax. My awesome aunt, who traveled down from Idaho for the wedding, pulled me aside, handed me $35 and said, "Go get a pedicure, relax a little bit." It was exactly what I needed. After finding a little hole in the wall salon and getting a pedi and mani, the inner girl in me (and the cause of all my Bridezilla outbursts) was finally given what she needed; a good foot rub.

Stress with the band/van ordeal, and general money woes, had made the week leading up to the wedding nearly unbearable. (I'll post all about that soon.) After that magical foot rub, I was able to just take a deep breath, be okay with the chips falling where they may, and focus on the fun part of my wedding.

And just to clarify (and toot my own horn a little bit) I was stressed out about the wedding. For over a year now, Husband (I love calling him that!) and I have been introducing each other as husband and wife. We've been referring to the wedding as "A Big Party and a Piece of Paper." Because that's really all it is. Marriage is a state of mind, one that has existed between Husband and I almost from the beginning of our romantic relationship. In my stressier, pre-pedicure moments, Husband would hug me and say, "We're getting married. This wedding is happening. We have a suit and a dress and the rings and a license. That's all that matters." What I was stressing out about was the wedding. Orchestrating a big party on a tiny budget and a tiny amount of time. The marriage is what was able to get me through it all.

Sunday evening I went flower shopping, found all of the flowers I wanted/needed, and headed back to the big, pretty rental house my parents had for the week. The Bestest, her Boyfriend, and my family were all hard at work, preparing the cake, the zombie figures (yes, you read that correctly), the favors, the candle holders, the food; everything. My Bridezilla melt down (which involved tears and an indulgent door slamming) after some bad van news on Saturday morning had made everyone come together to help me pull off the last details. My dad made a miniature Thanksgiving dinner, since we wouldn't be able to travel for Turkey Day, since it so nearly followed the wedding.

The bottles were candle holders for the reception. Tom Selleck up there went on the cake.

Everyone stayed up pretty late that night, but by 4am it was just Husband and I, the Bestest and her Boyfriend. That was when we decided it was time for a burrito run. Oh, how I already miss that shady but delicious Mexican fast food.

I finally passed out at 5:15am, but Husband stayed up all night, since he'd woken up permanently at 3am. I got back up at 6:30am to start my wedding day. A quick shower, a cup of coffee, and the running around began. We loaded up the car that Husband's parents loaned to us for the weekend, and took the decorations down to the reception hall to pick up the key at 9am. We quickly set up the tables and chairs, ran back to the rental house for the forgotten decorations and our wedding clothes, picked up the champagne from the liquor store, and came back. At noon the hairdresser (a girl I grew up across the street from and sister to my oldest friend) and the make up artist showed up. Husband (wisely) ran out to grab us some lunch from a little Greek joint around the corner, while my preparation for cuteness began.

Everyone else began trickling in, and after my face was properly painted, Husband took a break from decorating the reception hall and we were able to eat. After that it was a whirlwind of hair doing and decor approving for me. As the time for photos neared, I had to silently pat myself on the back for telling everyone the time for photos was 3pm, when it was really 3:30pm. Go me! Planning for tardiness.

By 4pm, though it became apparent I hadn't budgeted enough. Husband and I ran over to the venue to decorate that, too, before getting pictures started. We hid upstairs and did a few more photos while the crowd began to gather down in the courtyard. (We also snuck a little airplane sized bottle of Jim up with us, to help us get rid of the nerves.)



The time came to line up and get ready to walk down the aisle. Husband and his father started out first, and stood up front. The music changed and my bridesmaids got ready to go. My dad took my arm and I was only able to blurt out, "I have to pee."

Everyone laughed, and my father said, "Too late for that, honey!"

Then my cousin Jinx, my Oldest Friend and the Bestest were all walking down the aisle. My Oldest Friend had recorded a song for me, and I couldn't even hear it. As hard as I tried, I couldn't hear the music over my own nervousness and excitement. Then the flower girl walked down the aisle. She's nine years old now. I've known her since she was only four. And there she was, walking with straight posture, carefully scattering the artificial leaves I'd given her.

She scattered artificial autumn leaves from a plastic Jack O'Lantern trick or treat tub.

Then it was my turn. I was straining over my own nerves, trying to hear the music. It had been so important to me, and now I couldn't hear it. It felt as though everyone there at the wedding was cheering for me... cheering for me and Husband, and I couldn't hear the delicate piano arpeggios being playing over the sound system.



As my Dad and I reached the front of the aisle, Husband joined us, and he took my other arm in his. And as the officiants (my Mom and the GBF) began the ceremony, all I could think about was the tear that had run down my nose, and was now hanging on the very tip, refusing to just drip off. I was hoping that the Bestest's Boyfriend (who served as our primary photographer) wouldn't be able to see that dangling tear with his super awesome camera. (It didn't!)

My nerves took hold of me, and it took all of my energy to not cry. I was at that stage of nervousness/excitement where I can't stop smiling. Seriously. I tried, at it resulted in a strange little twitchy smirk that made me look like a crazy person. So I just smiled. I realized, halfway through the ceremony, that I had been so worried about locking my knees and passing out, that instead I had been doing an awkward, pseudo-pee pee dance. I haven't seen any video yet, but I just hope it wasn't too obvious to everyone else.

Then it was time for the vows. I was most worried about bursting into ugly cry face during this part, but strangely enough, it was the most calm I felt during the entire day. Husband held my hands, and looked me right in the eye, and recited the words we had carefully crafted together in July. We wrote our own vows;

I, Husband, take you, Lori, to be my wife, my constant friend, my partner for life. I promise to love you without reservation, and to be open and honest with you always. We will stand together in times of joy and times of sorrow, in times of plenty or times of want, in sickness and in health; to love, honor and cherish unconditionally. I will be faithful to you. I will love you alone all the days of my life.



The ceremony only took eight minutes. It felt even quicker than that. It was strange that all of that planning, fussing over all the weird little details, were over in eight minutes. I knew going into it that there were certain elements that no one would care about or remember but me (like what my bridesmaids were wearing, and our flowers, hence the $7 dress for my 'flower' girl and the grocery store flowers.) I remember that when it was over, I was thinking, "Already?"

But then it was over, we were Husband and Wife, and that was that. Time to party!

The Reception was at an old building just two small blocks away (most everyone walked). My parents and the Bestest's Boyfriend did almost all of the cooking, with help from one of my Aunts. They also made the cake. While the ceremony was mostly Autumn themed (we had tiny Jack O'Lantern lights on the arch), the reception is where we went spooky. There were fake spiders and skulls all over. Candles were sitting on top of the wine bottles I had made labels for (potions and various potion ingredients.) It ended up feeling like a slightly spooky, whimsical family meal. There was almost no dancing, as people were too busy eating and talking. The food, by the way, was Penne with Meat Sauce, and Rotini with Spinach Alfredo, a veggie tray, a meat tray, and fresh bread made my the Bestest's Boyfriend. (He seriously saved the day. The wedding wouldn't have come together like it did if it weren't for his tremendous amount of help.) There was also a desert table, with Pumpkin Cheesecakes supplied by one of Husband's fans, who became a good friend of mine, a bowl of jelly beans with Bertie Bott's mixed in, and a plate of cream puffs. Each table also had a trick or treat tub full of candy. I wanted to make sure that if people gave up their Halloween to celebrate with us, they still got their sugary goodies.

I suppose the rest of the story I can tell in pictures;













By the time the reception was drawing to a close, Husband and I had managed to eat one plate of food each (over the course of the night, which is more than a lot of bride and grooms get at their weddings), and said hello and goodbye to everyone that had come. It was hectic, and as the center of attention, we were pulled in many directions at once. But it was lovely. The Bestest caught my bouquet, and her Boyfriend caught the garter.

The best part of the night, I do have to say, is how everyone just suddenly pitched in and helped us clean up and put everything away. It wasn't even coordinated. It started with my Oldest Friend and her sister (the one who did my hair), and it just spread from there. Once all of the decorations were packed up and the tables and chairs folded and away, everyone stood around and socialized, and even got a little bit of dancing in. I was blown away by how everyone came together to help us make this little shindig happen. If it hadn't been for the generosity of my creative and talented friends and family, I don't know how we could've done this. It truly moved me to see everyone pitch in to help us out.

After the night was through, we piled back into the cars with all of our decorations, and went back to the rental house (a gorgeous 4 bedroom with a giant back yard, pool and tiki bar) to crash. We brought in what needed to be refrigerated or would melt in the sun, and everyone collapsed in bed, asleep. Except for me. I had to take off the false eyelashes and the professional make up and all of the curls. It took almost as long to undo all the pretty as it did to heap it on. By the time I finished my shower and got into bed, Husband was sound asleep. I didn't have the nerve to wake him, so just crawled into bed and fell asleep next to him.

I figured we had the rest of our lives to do 'husband and wife' things. You know, now that we'd had our big party, and signed that piece of paper.

Wednesday, October 26, 2011
I am a very happy Lori.

Very stressed, but very happy. Today I turn 26 (on the 26th!)... and I totally forgot about it.

But then I logged into Facebook, and saw that 68 friends of mine had written on my wall, and I was like, "Whaaa...?" And then I remembered.

And the best part is that it was people from all over the country and all over the world. (Cousins in Italy count!)

So no picture/cartoon today, because I am entirely too stressed out and busy with wedding planning (the wedding, which, if you're following, is in only 5 more days.) Instead of thinking off all of the things I haven't done, I'm thinking of the things I have.

Today, I got my wedding band (a place holder until I have the time to get the real one sized). And most importantly, we got our marriage license. Which means that as far as the actual getting married part, we can do that. The wedding just might not come together the exact way I pictured. But really? Oh well. As long as we both say 'I do.' when we need to, it doesn't really matter if I finish tying the ribbons on all the favors.

So I'm enjoying a drink, working on the little photoshop bits of things that I can, and enjoying a drink while (Future) Husband makes dinner for me and my family.

And honestly, I'm kind of thinking of just enjoying a round or two of Plants vs. Zombies...
Friday, October 21, 2011
Alright, the final countdown is on.



Ten days from now, Future Husband will lose the 'Future' portion of his name, and I get to officially adopt a new alliterative moniker.

At this point in the game, I have so much stress from the planning stages over the last year (not to mention the hell of a summer we had), that I'm just ready for it to be over. Is that strange? I already feel married, I just haven't had a big party and signed a piece of paper yet.

Although, that big party is going to be pretty awesome...

I haven't really gushed about my wedding on here (my facebook friends will say otherwise), so let me give you the highlights real quick (because I still have SOOOO much to do in the next ten days.

-The wedding's in Arizona, at a coffee shop that we found out we both frequented as teenagers, before we knew each other. It's gorgeous. I can't wait to post the pictures.
-The wedding is on Halloween. We wanted November 1st, (so our anniversary would be 11-1-11), but you'd be surprised at how hard it is to find a reasonably priced wedding venue for a Tuesday.
-Everyone in the wedding party is wearing Chuck Taylor's.
-Instead of flowers, we're decorating everything with Fall Leaves and Pumpkins.
-No YMCA or Chicken Dance at the reception. Instead, it'll be Thriller and The Time Warp.

Great Googily Moogily... I am SO EXCITED to share pictures!
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
*Warning!* - Another seriously old, seriously introspective blog! Proceed with caution!

When it comes to being a Hero or Villain, there are definitely shades of gray. With all of the 2007 turmoil, I didn't consider Future Husband a Villain. Conflicted, yes. Foolish, definitely. But I was just as much to blame for the mess. When he told me about his feelings, I could have told him that I reciprocated, but that he needed to end things with Crazy Ex#1 before we started carrying on. I initially did that, but the longer it took, the harder it was to resist him. Eventually it was a full fledged affair. And when it went sour, it hurt all three of us involved, and split our once tight social circle into two distinctive sides, even those that didn't want to be involved. Even today I say the bulk of the blame lies with Future Husband, but I'm not responsibility free. I know that.

And I'd like to think I'm smart enough to not make the same mistake twice... but I did.

Though in my defense, I didn't think I was making the same mistake. And the scenario wasn't exactly the same: It was actually worse. When Future Husband and I finally got together I lived in Oklahoma, and he lived in Seattle... with soon-to-be Crazy Ex #2. I thought that it would just be a fling, and he would finally be out of my system and out of my life. But it was the exact opposite of what ended up happening. Even when he started pushing for a relationship, I suggested we be friends while we were apart, and lovers while we were in the same city. Because, apparently, I like to make things unnecessarily complicated. Just like before, I didn't resist him for long. He promised to break up with Ex #2, just like he had with #1. I hoped that he had enough courage to do it, but was terrified he wouldn't. But something had changed in the years in between. Maybe finally being with me entirely was enough to make him realize I was worth fighting for. I was worth being a Villain for.

During the weeks between us becoming us, and him returning to Seattle from tour, he vented all of his frustrations and insecurities to me. He hated that he had to be a bad guy, but he gave himself the pep talks. I just agreed. He decided he would just blame the band for his reason for leaving Crazy Ex #2. I advised him that this was a bad idea, but if it's what he was comfortable doing, to go for it. He thought it would soften the blow. He also didn't want her to stab him or set his record collection on fire. I couldn't blame him, there. I'd heard through the web of mutual friends that she was just like Crazy Ex#1.

When he got back to Seattle, he followed through, broke up with her, and moved out. Things weren't easy, but he didn't make the same mistake he had in 2007. He chose me, this time. However, things didn't stay peachy for long. It turned out that Crazy Ex#2 had suspected me for a while, and had been facebook stalking me. A few days before Christmas, she was able to track down 'proof' in a comment I'd left on someone's page. She understandably blew her gasket.

She acted like a love torn 13 year old. It was embarrassing. Like those awkward comedies where you laugh because you feel so very bad for the person. For a woman who's almost 30, her behavior was abominable. She logged into Future Husband's social networks, sent out emails to his family and friends, and then changed his passwords so that he couldn't get back in right away to delete everything. She sent me numerous emails. She even sent one to my father on Christmas morning, preaching sisterhood, all the while sending drunken emails to Future Husband about how much she hated me and how I had ruined her life. Me. Not Future Husband for cheating on her. Me.

She harassed me for a few weeks online (she only tormented Future Husband for about a week), and even her mother and two friends got in on it. Months later, when she found out I was going on tour with the band, her nasty messages to me started back up. With only one friend getting in on the action the second time, so I guess that's an improvement. Though, she did threaten me. I'm not sure if she threatened to somehow use the internet to find me and cause me physical harm, or if she meant that she'd find my personal information and like... I don't know. Ruin my credit? Either way, the threat (thankfully) never panned out. Which is fortunate for them, too, because while I am not violence prone, I am vindictive, have a long memory, and have many beefy, violent Italian men that are wrapped around my little finger and willing to do literally anything for me. (Seriously. Back in 2007 when things imploded with FH, I argued with two of my cousins about giving them his home address.) Even now that my family (all of it) is happy with Future Husband, since the engagement I've gotten a few, "We're happy for you, but does he know that if he hurts you again, he's still dead?" It's the Italian in us., what can I say?

Although, on a side note, after months and months of Crazy Ex #2's online harassment, I finally gave in and replied. I never sent a reply to any of her emails (though I wrote a few) and never acknowledged her. I figured ignoring her would probably anger her more, and it kept my own muddled feelings from exploding and making me feel worse. After her last snarky comment (actually on this blog) I gave in to my mischievous side. I had her email address (and home address, and phone number, and work number - because she apparently assumed that I don't know how to use google) and decided to be naughty. After she stalked me and wrote me horrible nasty things for months, after she wrote to my father on Christmas in an effort to ruin our holiday, after she tried her hardest to hurt me (because she assumed I knew absolutely nothing about FH's history, flaws or dark side)... I signed her up for Midget Porn. Yep. You read that correctly. Midget Porn. After her hurtful words and hostile behavior, I threw a rubber chicken. I thought it was hilarious. I had one angry email from her even crazier friend after that, but since then she's left me alone. Never underestimate the power of miniature dominatrices.

What bothers me, to this day, about this situation, is that she considers me the Villain. Not Future Husband. Sure, I was a bad female. I was knowingly the 'other woman.' She even used the word "stole" in one of her tirades. That's always bothered me. It seems like the women who loudly proclaim that they do not want to be objectified are the first to accuse another woman of 'stealing her man.' It's not like I snuck into her backyard one night and took Future Husband because she forgot to lock him up. He's not a bicycle. He's an adult; fully capable of making his own decisions, good and bad.

We (thankfully) haven't heard from her for a few months now, so we're hoping she finally came to her senses, and has recognized that Future Husband treated her horribly. He pretty much used her as an excuse to get away from Crazy Ex #1, and then as a place to live so he wouldn't be homeless when the band moved from Arizona to Seattle. He even told me (before we became a couple) that he knew she was more in love with him, and that he felt bad about it. On the whole, he was truly villainous towards her, and yet she still seems to hold him up on a pedestal. I understand despising me (I would, too), but she's never met me. I don't know Crazy Ex #2 and hold nothing against her, aside from her atrocious behavior towards me concerning this fiasco. She should be angry at Future Husband. She should loathe him. And for some reason, I get the impression she doesn't. She still thinks I stole her bicycle.

Evil Lori will steal your man, and your Penny Farthing. All while wearing a jaunty hat!

In her story, he was Willoughby, and she just can't figure that out. Jane never lets us see Ms. Grey/Mrs. Willoughby. We only hear how Willoughby relates her to Elinor. So who knows how accurate that portrait was, given his past history of self preservation? So if you're still cyber stalking me, Crazyhead- forget Willoughby. Go find yourself your Colonel Brandon.

(On a side note, it seems I'm painting a really horrible picture of Future Husband and I. I guess I'm just trying to clear the air, and my conscience. I'm not perfect, neither is he. He's the Hero in my love story because he's perfect for me. Not because he's Clark Kent. We've both done bad things in our social lives and our love lives, but who hasn't? I'm just willing to share mine.)

Crazy Ex #2 has been intermittently on my mind since we went public with our engagement. I don't think I'll hear from her ever again, but I wouldn't be surprised, either, if there was another little flip out when she finds out that we're getting married and I'm not pregnant. Maybe the new batch of angry messages will come in November, after the wedding. Who knows? Let's hope, for everyone's sake, that she realized what a Douchey McDouchebag Future Husband was to her. That he was a villain in her story, not an anti-hero. Let's hope that she's come to the mature realization that harassing me (It's actually legal harassment - I looked it up. I could press charges if I wanted to.) isn't going to make her feel better, or help her move on.

And how do I do it, you ask? How do I sleep at night being a Villainess? After being instrumental in the heart break of two different women? Well, there are three things that keep me from feeling guilty for more than a few seconds;
1- Future Husband knew me before he know either of them, and in his own 2007 words, fell in love with me the night he met me. It's almost like they were the 'other women.' I was the original.
2- I was only an instrument. My favorite analogy; if you get stabbed by someone, you don't get angry at the knife.
3- Completely good heroes are boring. ;-)
Sunday, August 21, 2011
**WARNING!** Serious Lori ramblings lay ahead. In fact, you will see the darker side of Lori in the following paragraphs. Not 'Making Cartoons in MS Paint' Lori, but 'Sitting in the Dark and being Unhealthily Introspective' Lori. You have yet to see this on this blog. Proceed with Caution!

Okay, I'll soften the blow with a cartoon.


Warning #2!! - I wrote this blog months and months ago, but just never posted it. Which is a pity, because I dearly love the above cartoon. I've decided, in the interest of getting back in the habit of blogging, to post this. A pretty sizable contributing factor to my lack of posting lately has been that I feel I can't really say what I want to say. Self censoring, in a way. Mostly because I've been afraid of offending people, should they happen across my little corner of cyberspace. Recently a few things have happened that have made me stop caring whether or not I offend someone by telling everyone the Emporor's naked. So I decided, before I start venting my frustrations by showing off everyone else's dirty laundry, I would expose a little of my own.


It probably doesn't come as any surprise to you that I enjoy writing fiction, as well as over exposed diary entries. I mean... blogs. So I've been mulling over the idea of Heroes and Villains. And in the good stories, there are no differences in their motivations. Each character believes they are doing what is right. The Villain doesn't know they are the antagonist, or at least, have not set out to be the bad guy. It seems that in the best stories, the Hero and Villain don't even know they're the protagonist and antagonist, they just are.

I've had the word 'fairytale' thrown at me as an insult by both friend and foe, and I fully admit that my coping mechanism is storytelling. I put things into a linear storyline so it's easier for me to swallow. I know perfectly well that life doesn't always happen that way. People don't even behave in a linear fashion, usually. Many factors motivate people, not a sequence of events. Literature, Life and Fairytales alike begin and end in medias res. Life is told in chapters. I've been translating my written world way of thinking into real life, and I've realized that we are all both Hero and Villain. Even the people I love most - me, my family and friends, Future Husband - we have all been both.


Okay, maybe two cartoons.

The Tale of Crazy Ex #1

---

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about Crazy Ex #1 and Crazy Ex #2. It's well known among Future Husband's friends and family that he has terrible taste in women. The joke is that he's just very lucky that I have strange taste in men, and we ended up together.

(Seriously, when I met his parents for the first time at Christmas 2010 I could tell they were uneasy. Even in March when we stayed with them for two weeks, it seemed like they were a little reserved, just waiting for me to take a sudden detour into Crazytown. It took them a while to realize I wasn't going to go kookoo bananas anytime soon.)

Future Husband and I met before he'd even met Crazy Ex #1. Which is how I've been able to justify being a terrible female by allowing him to cheat on her with me, back in 2007. Things didn't turn out very well for me then, which I suppose is exactly what I deserved. In the beginning I made the mistake of trying to become friends with Crazy Ex #1, so when everything went to hell in a hand basket, she not only had to deal with her boyfriend being unfaithful, but someone she thought was a friend betraying her. That is what I feel awful about. I never should have tried to be friendly with her. After everything exploded spectacularly (I won't tell the story here, as it's the subject of an entire novel I'm writing), Future Husband had a lot of back peddling and butt kissing to do. Their relationship only lasted another year, which delighted me - he lost forever with me for one more year with a crazy girl (or so we thought). In that year, he got her name tattooed inside a heart on his arm. It's also a common man's name, so it's kinda funny. We humorously took care of that in Denver. But he also made the mistake of entering into a Domestic Partnership with her. We've been working to dissolve that, and we're almost done, but that's why she's been on my mind lately.

Thinking of Crazy Ex #1 has made me feel something I thought I never would, especially where she is concerned. She is a spectacular waste of space and, in general, a lousy human - nothing to contribute to mankind on an intellectual, creative or humanitarian basis - but that doesn't mean she deserved to be treated the way I treated her. That doesn't raise her on the human bean scale at all, but it does seem to lower me. I'm disappointed in myself for behaving so poorly towards her, and not doing myself justice. I purposely manipulated her, used her, and thoroughly despised her during the entire duration of our 'friendship.' I felt territorial over Future Husband. He knew me first, and yet she had somehow wiggled in line in front of me. She's a pretty loud, 'out there' kind of personality. While I was flirting subtly with young FH, she was bold and socially aggressive. Of course, now I know that FH was just as unsure of me returning his feelings as I was of his. So it's understandable why a 21 year old boy would go for the girl that made her feelings readily available and easy to read. I can't blame him for that. I can't blame her, either.

A long time ago I made a joke to Future Husband about Crazy Ex #1, and he said, "Well, we know how that turned out. You won."

It ruffled my feathers a bit, because I always considered her to be the competitive one. (Towards the end of the craziness in 2007, she kept lightening her hair, and flat out told me she wanted it to be the same color as mine.) I realized something when he said that; I hadn't cared about winning where she was concerned, I'd cared about being right. I've always been one of those stubborn kids that has a hard time admitting they're wrong, and on the same note, backing off when I'm right. To me, Crazy Ex #1 and Future Husband just didn't make sense together. They were incompatible. We made sense. We fit; we were right. They weren't. That's why I was territorial. Why I was uncharacteristically competitive, manipulative and mean.

Now, with Crazy Ex #1 on my mind while Future Husband and I work on getting rid of her paper trail, I am prepared to do something I rarely do. Crazy Ex #1 is unintelligent, uncaring, spiteful, competitive and manipulative. And I lowered myself to her level.

So if you ever come across my little corner of the blogosphere, Crazyhead, on that long walk I want you to take off a short pier... know that I'm sorry for the way I treated you. I was genuinely terrible to you, and I should not have been. Your inferiority to me did not give me the right to behave badly.

I was wrong. I'm sorry.

As far as Crazy Ex #1 is concerned, when the credits roll on her life story, I'll be billed as a Villain, and justly so. I'm the Hero of my own story, and she's simply a plot point. But I was a terrible person towards her, and she has every right to feel that. If she's capable of human emotion (I have my doubts.)

Maybe it's the time and the distance between the shit storm that was 2007, and now; maybe it's just that I'm older and a little wiser, but I feel more forgiving towards Crazy Ex #1's behavior towards me. Granted, just because I was horrible, doesn't mean she was Pollyanna, she's bar fight kind of crazy. Once she realized I had feelings for Future Husband she was just as manipulative and mean. Now I can see why, though. How horrible to realize that someone you thought was your friend was actually using you just to be closer to your boyfriend. Major suckage. And honestly, I probably would have acted the same. But when the manure did hit the oscillating air dispersal device, I got mad at Future Husband. In fact, I was mad for years. Sure, I wasn't quiet about recognizing what an awful person Crazy Ex #1 was, but I didn't write blogs about how angry I was at her. Because I wasn't. I didn't turn into one of those ridiculous Springer-esque kind of girls that gets mad at the girl. I got mad at FH for using me, and treating me horribly. Like I should have.

Crazy Ex #2, however, can't say the same about her behavior....

...to be continued.

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Lori
Seattle, United States
During this course of study, you will come to learn much about the strange eating, sleeping and mating habits of the Instrospective Lori under stress. We will observe as she moves halfway across the country to start a life with her own Captain Wentworth, takes a year off of work to pursue a writing career, and incessantly references Jane Austen.
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