i only wear white when it rains

because blogging is cheaper than therapy

i sold my torch to pay attorney’s fees

with one comment

I suppose because I’ve dodged a Vicodin addiction, avoided a 100-pound weight gain/loss, and don’t depend on my therapist to tell me whether I want my hot chocolate with or without whip, I’m perceived as dealing well with my divorce.

In fact, lately I’ve become a sort of Statue of Liberty for women in perilous situations who are about to fall, jump or be pushed into the steaming cesspit of marriage dissolution. Somehow when I said, “Let’s get drunk on frozen strawberries soaked in Effen vodka while we watch a Gator game and forget how shitty my life is,” what everyone heard was: “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.”

When did I become a beacon of hope and promise? I haven’t been able to navigate these murky waters any better than Lucas Lightning trying to find Penelope’s car in the amphitheater parking lot after a Dave Matthews concert and no less than 12 community beers.

And that light at the end of the tunnel that all your “happily divorced” friends rave about? Well, I’m pretty sure that’s a train.

Because I still prefer Tic Tacs to Wellbutrin, I’m becoming aware of the many pitfalls of severing ties once and for all. Here are some considerations before you hand over that $10,000 retainer to your attorney (which, incidentally, will be used in the first week):

  • If you think your husband was pissed off when you accidentally plowed your Land Rover through the garage door, then just wait until you take half of his 401k.
  • Your $360-an-hour forensic accountant’s job is not to compute your “lifestyle analysis,” it’s to determine how much money he can actually extort from you. Save yourself $20k and put your expenses in an Excel spreadsheet yourself.
  • You might be able to stomach the thought of your husband sleeping with another woman, but how about her chargrilling fajitas on your Viking range? Or hanging her clothes in your custom-built-to-accommodate-200-pairs-of-shoes closet?
  • That hospital fundraiser may be getting stale. But seeing the invitation addressed to your (ex)husband “and guest”?  Ouch.
  • Your attorney is not your friend. If you have $10 in marital assets, understand that you and your husband will each end up with 50 cents. The attorney will get the rest and then tell you how lucky you are to have that 50 cents. After all, you only deserved a dime.
  • Like it or not, you will now be lumped into the “single” category. It might be wise to start perpetuating a rumor that you are a celibate lesbian to avoid any awkward set-ups or eradicate any unwarranted husband-stealing concerns.

So I guess my only advice to those of you about to set sail toward the Mother of Exile is this: Turn your fucking boats around.

This might be the land of the brave, but divorce is hardly free.

Written by I only Wear White When it Rains

November 21, 2010 at 11:14 pm

Posted in heady

One Response

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  1. The truth shall set you free… or not. Well said my friend, well said.

    Elise Schreiner

    November 21, 2010 at 11:39 pm


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