Back in the Saddle Again

After a very short time of reflection spent thinking of all the heinous shit I could heap on those people who feel the need to out my blog and other personal shit among a supposed circle of friends, strike that shit - ACQUAINTANCES, I am now making this place home. Any more shitty, middle school-esque, jealousy-driven bullshit, and I'll be forced (Let's be honest here, it'll be a fucking CHOICE on my part. A damn choice. And I'll live by the consequences, dammit.) to revert to the bitch who's sitting in that brass box deep inside my head; no longer will I take the High Road.

The High Road got me here.
I have forgiven but not forgotten. Oh hell no.
The memory of the cunts who have felt it was their right to publicly try my personal choices without knowing the entire story?

Yeah. THAT memory has been locked in the brass box as well so the bitch has something to play with just in case she's let out again.

Genius on my part. No?

Here's the deal.

A supposed friend completely betrayed me.
This person was entrusted with the care of my son and one of my nieces.
This person lied to my son, locked my niece in a bedroom, and spread vicious shit about me to other "friends" as well as within my professional community.
This person told others that I was "using" my son to "manipulate" her "into spending time" with me. Direct quotes. She said that.

I also found out that she'd been passing my son off as HERS when she was in public with others and I wasn't there. She almost did that one time when I was standing nearby, but I immediately corrected the passerby. Once the guy looked at my face, he knew no other person could have given birth to Butter. (THAT'S what he'll be called here. Hell, that's the nickname I use the most with him. He's my Butter.)

She took great joy in manipulating many people into thinking I considered them "enemies, outcasts, and otherwise amputated from my life." (I only recently heard from ONE person who finally decided to talk with me and say "goodbye" even though she wanted to remain friends after repeatedly hearing what that bitch planted in her head. Until then, I had no clue that the bitch had spoken to anyone other than TWO people. She's been a busy fucking cunt.)

Those of you who read my OTHER PLACE might be thinking *ding fucking ding* WW-Woman! Yeah. I have used the work "amputated" to describe how I deal with people who betray me. I can forgive. I've learned how to do this. I didn't particularly like it the first few times I did it, but I stuck with the process because the anger I had for people in my life was literally eating me alive.

I have not heard from a great many people who depended on me each and every day during the past several years at my job. I have done sub plans, called subs, copied worksheets, met with parents, taken kids, run interference, you name it. These very same people have taken it upon themselves to be judge a jury of me because I chose to not go to the bitch's farce of a wedding. I made it clear to my husband that if he chose to go in order to support his friend (husband and I introduced them), fine. However, I and my son would not be attending.

Let the gossip and sniping begin because people just can't fathom that I didn't show up at the shit-ass wedding. What? You don't like that I didn't make you privy to the shitstorm that was going on since December? You don't like that I know how to keep my mouth shut? Too fucking bad. I don't have to explain myself and won't. Period.

One of the oh-so-disappointed people took it upon herself to tell someone that my "amputation" post was about her. Hello? You are so insignificant in my life that I wouldn't bother to waste the flurry of fingers across the keys in order to draft something about you. EVERYTHING is about you; at least from your twisted perception.

Ready for the one that will ultimately slay you, fellow bloggers? The same one who bitched about me not going to the wedding and about the amputation post "offending" her? She has come to me asking for the addy for this place.

Fuck me without a reach-around once, shame on you.
Fuck me again, same style? Shame on me.

There's NO shame in this game, mama. Oh hell no.

So. That's the gist of this.

The one who started it all? She's been transferred to another location in my fair city and won't have one fucking reason to come back into my location.

To those of you who are saying, "Why not fuck her up? Why not confront the bitch? Why not give her a taste of her own medicine?" - my list of reasoning is concise:

1. I believe in karma. If I dish out something remotely resembling what's been throw in my court, I'll receive something ELSE from the Fates. I'm sure I won't like it.
2. I am taking the High Road - STILL - even though it's tough, painful, and frustrating.
3. I have vowed not to waste any more time with these people.
4. People like her move on when they realize that cannot engage the object of their attention. Doesn't matter what I do: "play nice" or "confront and maim" - she would be getting my attention. That's what she wants. I'm not giving her an ounce of energy beyond today. Sadly, she will move on to someone else. She will wheedle her way into that person's life just as she did mine. She will earn their trust, be encouraged to be part of that person's family, be entrusted with those people and events most of us hold in the highest regard. And she will break, just as she has here. She will be faced with not being #1 and will go after that person. Me? I will be elsewhere in life.

She took the most joy when my husband and I were on the edge. He'd been delivered the ultimatum to start marriage counseling with me or move the hell out. I was in my first trimester at the time. She knew me at the time. Years later, she told me she "knew" I "couldn't afford to make that mortgage payment" on my own so her plan "was to move in. We'd live together, and I would help you with your bills.

One, you are a stalker.
Two, you have obviously had a psychological break with reality.
Three, I simply cannot believe you just admitted that to me.
Four, I can always cover my bills. Don't attempt to use monetary figures to get me to do anything. When I gave my husband the ultimatum, my final statement was this:

"I don't NEED you. I don't need you to do this - be a woman, own a house, work full-time, and BE A MOTHER. I don't need you, but I WANT you. Wanting is the stronger statement - it means I CHOOSE you. Think about that."

Rambling. I'm now rambling like a fucking idiot who's had her own psychotic break. *cackling here* But you peeps know me too well to think I'd be the one losing her mind. Mine's safe and strong.

I am surrounded by friends here and in the blogosphere who love me and readily accept me for who I am rather than when I can do and be for them.

I have two sisters who dote on me and love me even when I'm a screaming menace on the phone, giving them the blow-by-blow of the recent events. One of them even said, "Oh. My. God. Balls to the wall! That's what this is! Balls to the wall!" I won't say which one. I wouldn't want her to be outted for saying the word "balls" more than once in one sitting. I'm the one with the penchant for profanity in the family.

My last statement, I cannot believe the outpouring of support and friendship I've received from many of you through comments at the old place, through email, and on Facebook. Thank you. I may be taking the High Road on this latest adventure, but I'm not going down Wishy Washy Road. Oh hell no.