Hey There June! Let's Do This...
Greetings and Happy Monday! After a wonderful weekend, I am pretty psyched that June is going to be a good month. I had some good news this morning, so basically telling the universe I was sick of its shit on Saturday is working.
The weekend was a good reset and a nice fresh start. We’ve decided not to separate Kina and Kaya, which is a logistical nightmare, but we’re going to make it work. At least everyone feels better that I’ll have Kaya with me, because she will tear up anyone who goes near me and will alert like crazy. Kina would sell me to Satan for a corn chip. The trial separation did not go well for either of them, so here we are.
It was the first ‘new normal’ weekend, and it was lovely. I was mostly happy to get to cook again because eating in restaurants all of the time can get to be a major drag. So we made Sexual Chicken™️ (it’s basically roast chicken, but we have to make everything weird) and enjoyed ‘Middle City.’
Middle City is the halfway point between cities two and three, and we will meet there once a month because it’s only a tank of gas and a day of driving for us; way cheaper than a flights to and fro. The funny thing about the Midwest is that… well you’re in the Midwest. It doesn’t matter what state you’re in, everything is going to be the same. This is the land of oak cabinetry, window valances, cafe curtains, and floral bedspreads. The house could be thoroughly modern on the outside, but they will all look like a Cracker Barrel on the inside. Those roots run DEEP, people.
So I’m refreshed and ready to conquer the week! Who’s with me?
Because I like to ruin everything, I want to go to a dark place for a minute. On this week’s podcast, I talked about missing Connecticut mother, Jennifer Dulos, and how it parallels my situation. First of all, the recent update as of the time I’m posting this blog, is that her husband and his girlfriend have been arrested in connection with her disappearance. SHOCKER.
This article came out today, and it made my blood run cold.
"I know that filing for divorce and filing this motion will enrage him," she said, according to the documents. "I know he will retaliate by trying to harm me in some way."
She said her fear intensified after Fotis Dulos purchased a handgun in 2017 and said he had "revenge fantasies" about harming other people.
Yes and yes. As I said on the podcast, this is the spectrum on which abusers operate. They will find allies. Hell, my ex even has his knitting circle of Manson penpals who adore him. You know, dumb women love them a broken bird and male attention. When I was discussing the case on the podcast, I promised to tell this story because it highlights how these mindsets behave.
About five years ago, my phone broke. My ex happened to have a spare that just needed a new screen, and it would be mine to use. Cool. So I paid to have it fixed. When I picked it up, I turned it on when I got to my car, and I discovered more details of the affair he had previously, and what I found on this phone contradicted all of the explanations he had given me about the relationship.
Honestly, I wasn’t even upset about it. I just remember sitting in the car staring into the middle distance full of whatevers. It was, however, the switch flipping moment for me in the relationship. I had bought into me being the problem, because I was badgered about being the problem constantly. I just simply had to do better and meet the constantly evolving expectations, and everything would be fine. That moment in my car, I realized that while I was nowhere near perfect and had my own share of problems, I was not THE problem.
When I returned home, I simply handed him the phone. No yelling, screaming, crying… I just handed him the phone, and told him what I saw, and asked him to reset the phone. Oh, and we are done. Then I went upstairs to the bedroom.
I came downstairs the next day to the phone on the counter smashed with a hammer.
They will destroy the vessel of accountability and loss of control. It gives them white-hot blackout rage.
His response when I keep these pictures?
“Only a psycho keeps everything. You’ve always been out to screw me.”
His typical reactions when I write or talk about this stuff?
“Stop being so obsessed with me, loser. I don’t want your stank ass!”
Lol, ok. But in all seriousness, even the most delusional responses make you feel like you are taking crazy pills and you even start to doubt your own reasoning. This REALLY upsets the people around you because they truly don’t understand why it affects you so much.
Hello, gaslighting my old friend.
I’m not writing this for a victim angle, because I’ve crossed over that threshold into survivor. I’m writing this for visibility of what this type of abuse really is, and how powerless victims are. This is why victims go back or why they stay. They aren’t weak or lying about their circumstances. They DON’T WANT TO LOSE THEIR CHILDREN OR DIE. This schmuck in Connecticut threatened to abscond with the kids to Greece.
Jennifer Dulos began to fight back and have him held accountable.
And now she’s missing.
I will say this again for the people in the back, especially those of you who take up with these guys or defend them because he’s got a good story and you’re stupid…
THERE IS NOT A MORE DANGEROUS TIME FOR A VICTIM THAN INDEPENDENCE FOR THEM AND ACCOUNTABILITY FOR THE ABUSER
She said the same things I always say. She knew he would come for her, just like I know my ex will come for me. There will be an incident. I’m just trying to mitigate its severity, and I’m ramping up my visibility should things get really sideways.
All of this hassle and turning my life into a human version of, “Where’s Waldo?” is exactly because of cases like this.
If you don’t understand that. I can’t help you. Say hi to Charlie for me, I guess.
Ok, I’m done.
Levity! Let’s get some levity back here for goodness sakes…
So we all know I basically speak my own language lovingly referred to as Lexicon von Jenn™️. I make up my own words and colloquialisms. You know… like Fuck Off Friday™️ and Sexual Chicken™️. It was something Lisa and I came up with as kids to get around the strict bad language rules around us.
Last night, as we were preparing Sexual Chicken™️, I said, “You gotta keister that lemon into the chicken.”
A blank stare and a few blinks later…
“Keister the chicken! You know, shove the lemon up its ass.”
“Please stop using keister as a verb. We’re making chicken, not smuggling heroin.”
Keister - v. ‘kee’ ster’ to insert something into one’s rectum. “Jenn had to keister the rectal thermometer into the baby.”
There’s something about being in the Midwest that brings it all back to me. I’ll use everyday drug terminology in regular conversation. Sure.
Bump - n. ‘bump’ to take a little more. Widely used as a cocaine reference. “Jenn’s nose was still running, so she decided to take another bump of Sudafed.”
It was like I was speaking another language all weekend as Midwest vernacular was reintroduced into my bloodstream. Several times this weekend I was met with blank stares followed by, “WHAT ARE YOU EVEN SAYING? WAY IS NOT A DIRECTION. OVER BY SECOND STREET WAY IS MEANINGLESS. AND WHAT THE HELL DOES ‘OPE’ MEAN AND WHY DO YOU ALL SAY IT.”
Because the Midwest is amazing. Let us be great.
Ok! That’s enough blogging for today. Hope everyone has a great Monday!