fun with iphoto

I owe a review of Sin City, but I haven't written it yet, and I seem to be a few days scattered in my blogging, and I am trying to salvage the pitiful remains of my marriage, so, herein, some photos of Trixie and Mama Dog and my girls' night in last Thursday, where we talked about men and played girl games.In case you didn't know, I am on the left and Trixie is on the right. And for more fun, here's where I decided to have fun with iPhoto! (This doesn't work for the non-Mac users out in the audience.)You can see a normal picture here, right? Well, push that little remove red eye button and behold! The red eye from my ass magically disappears! However, Satanic Mama Dog remains behind.In any case, Friday turned out to be a Day That Sucked, when I got an email from The Man Who Lives in the House telling me that the marriage wasn't going to work and to "get my crap out of the house as soon as possible." This was perhaps a catalyst to my getting rather drunk on Friday night.

Well, that and the Ukrainian dancers, in any case.

On Saturday morning, however, I woke up to an email from him pretending he had never sent the first email.

From the files of W.T. Fuck?

After some discussion, I basically told him if he wanted to work on saving our marriage he could get his ass up here, but it had better be next weekend, and we were going to have some frank discussions on our marriage, and we were not ignoring the elephant in the living room that he had put out there on Friday night.

Assbeagle.

I'm tired of having my emotions being pulled this way and that in the past six weeks, and I am positive you are tired of reading about them. I haven't felt like knitting at all. This is making me sick. We come to an understanding this weekend or we have no understanding at all and I file for legal separation in May when I return to Georgia, and the likelihood of the marriage being salvaged with me working in DC and him in Atlanta is slim to not a mother fucking chance in hell, because I'll find a place to live in DC when it comes down to that.

The End.

P.S. I am also afraid that any steps we take this weekend are temporary; that is, they might save the marriage for now but six months from now, a year from now, I'll be going through all of this all over again. Am I wasting my time?

P.P.S. Trixie started a new blog for our profession (records managers). It sure is one fucked up file cabinet.