Tag Archive: women


Marrrrrrrriage. Sounds scary sometimes.

But if something is even more scarier, that is the divorce. And it`s consequences. But now, not to wake the awful dark demons, we will fast forward a little bit. Into the period when the divorce is already far far gone. At least it should be.

Regarding it, there`s a one tiny winy detail that I`m bothered with: why some women keep their old husband`s last name?

For example, you had a bad divorce. And I mean really ugly. This is not an exception, people are really rarely separated as friends, truely wishing him/her all best. It sounds almost…utopian. Most women just freeze and obscure when someone even mentions their Ex, and they usually „tagg“ him/her the prefixes like: jerk, idiot, moron, bitch, retard, weasel, loser, bastard….you get the picture. They can`t stand him.

But…they are still walking around with his last name. The name of the same person which they despise and hate.

Therefore I ask – why in the name of God?

If you already hate every particle of his being, you are disgusted of his every trace, why are you still stack with his name? What „drives“ this masochistic need to keep it, not to throw away that stinky garb with which you are cloaked, which you attire every morning then snort with your nose on his smell?

If we think about that „nomen est omen“, what is this telling about you? Your name is a very important thing, we are connecting with it, many studies are made proving the impact of letters and words on our life. People are spending years on therapies for that same strong words which have marked their lives. But THIS name – you are not touching. Why is that? After all that…massacre of divorce, why don`t you change it with some that is only yours and which doesn`t connect you with that odious person and all the suffering you had with it?

Why? For some provincial belief that the divorcee is a damaged good? Socially labeled as defected? C`mon! Get real!

I remembered another situation, the one when He had married again, and the „New wife“ have taken that same last name. I know a very succsessful, educated and very beautiful woman, which is „sticked“ on that New One, bitching about her all the time. Why? Because she thinks that she is The Mrs K. Herself, not the second one. And that she is the only entitled to „use“ this name. Because she was the first. The time is flying by, the Ex and the New one, already have their own baby, but the First one doesn`t gives up. A-a. She is Mrs K. Tones of stupid situations are filling up, the situations in which she has to explain that she is no longer Mr.K`s wife, that she has nothing to do with the certain matter or event, after all – she is a lady, a completly other person and…. But she still stays connected with that man on which she exhausting all her bitterness and venom. Whyyyyyyyyyy????

For the Shakespearean conviction that the rose would smell different? Bullsh*t!!! Even there, the good man Will have clearly showed us that the name IS important. Why, I ask, why don`t you take your maiden name, or some completly new, and after all that suffering grant yourself with a new spring time? The one where everything is waking up, where the world has pure clear colours, interesting sweet scents…The one where new day brings the joy of new beginning, illuminated with the sun`s promise. Without ugly shadows and heavy clouds.

Everyone has the right to make mistakes. Face it, we`re not perfect. But also, we have the right on new debuts, without dragging other people`s bulk on our backs. You know, the right on that easy, uncertain beginnings, without ugly prefixes and suffixes.

Except maybe for the pure adrenalin of the true spring „fix“.

Because you deserve it, vol. 4.

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I am trying to be polite so I say: „She is really sweet but, don`t take this personally, she is a litlle bit…slow.“. He stands there in silence for few seconds, then answers: „Yes…She is. I don`t know what`s wrong with her. At first I thought that she`s stoned but now I see she isn`t. She really wasn`t like that before. Really. Can`t understand what happened to her….“.

We are talking about His friend, that He hadn`t see for some time now. And he hadn`t because the mentioned Slowie got married, got pregnant and gave birth (in that order exactly, a miracle!). We met her the other day and she invited us on a cup of coffee, euphorically, and we said yes, of course. At first, I didn`t get it, I thought that it`s just the way she is – little slow, but positive and cheerful, can`t hate her even if you want it to. You know the type.

Beeeeeep! Wrong!

He said that she was always very sharp, quick and everything that comes in the package with and intelligent, creative, witted and funny person. Hm…But now she`s not. Oh, she is funny, but in a different way. She is over-jolly ( playing Puff the Magic Dragon in the background) but you have to  e-x-p-l-a-i-n everything, slooooowly, with all details…Every joke and comment you make are received with a confused look and lots of questions…Exhausting. Very. I mean, she is sweet but… Just too much.

Then the phone ringed last night. I picked it up. On the other line I found a friend, a woman and a mother of a 4 year old girl.

37 minutes. To make it clear: thirty-seven-minute conversation of cooking, various symptoms, the child, it`s health, nurturing and education, upcoming precaution regarding sun, sunburns and everything which represents a danger for a child.

37 minutes until she just stopped. I heard nothing but complete silence for a minute or so. Then I heard a sigh, followed by: „Jesus, how I would like to go alone on a beach this summer, to jump in the water, swim slowly without any pressure, lay on the sand and just enjoy the sun in silenceYou know, not to jump every 2 seconds because the child is thirsty, hungry, because she`s bored, because… Just to enjoy myself. Me, understand? Me.“

Which remembered me on that Slowie with euphoric outbursts. Damn it! I get it! She was high on freedom! That`s it! She made it! She escaped! Only for an hour or two..fresh air, freedom… Doped, stoned, baked, toasted, buzzed, mashed, fried, blitzed…Then I remembered all the others which allowed the grindstone, the ones which allowed that everything is  subjected to their child and house, the ones that don`t exist anymore, the ones that can`t afford to take an hour or two per day of freedom. For a cup of coffee, of undisturbed staring in TV, of reading, of leaving the house alone for an hour where there will be only them, without children….or anything else. Just them.

When I was a kid, my parents were different. They could BREATH. We were outside playing, almost all the time (coming home only to grab a bite). When they were talking we couldn`t interrupt, if they were watching they favorite show – we weren`t crying and banging, yelling that we are bored, that we want to watch a cartoon…Their friends were coming, and we weren`t seeking for attention, they went to work, they were going out… And we turned OK. We really did. So did they.

But this moms… No wonder they lose it every now and then. The only thing they think about are children and home, they can`t remember when was the last time they done something for themselves. They are behaving like they are serving a deity. Prasing. A cult. A cult of a child.

That is a pressure. Coming from the society. It actually demands from the parents to become completly abnormal, to treat their children like they are retarted, because the poor kids just can`t be or do anything by themselves. Well, THAT is retarded and abnormal.

From now on you should do this: the next time your kid starts badgering and crying that he/she is bored, take a deep breath, shrug, and say: „I don` t give a damn. Work something out. Mom will take some time for herself. And don`t bother her for a while. Go, shush!“.

Then go out, lay down, get stoned, whatever.

 Because mom deserves it. Every day.

She`s got certain years. Actually, she doesn`t, but lets say that she is, according to some provincial criteria, passed the line for rosebud, fresh dew and busy bees. This is why she is very worried with the absence of a wedding ring on her finger which should be the indicator of successful living. So because of that, she is determined to find a husband at any cost.

 The scenario should go something like this:

her aunt, from her birthplace, knows a guy from that same town (after all, roots are roots) which is single. It doesn`t matter how he looks like, he`s got all hands, legs and a head. The aunt gave her his number of telephone and said that he will be celebrating his birthday, few days from today. The gameplan was that the mentioned Ringcovetor sends him a text message with birthday wishes to establish a first contact. Which was successfully done. The communication continued through few other messages and they have agreed to meet in their birthtown. There they had a drink, exchanged few usual weather/politics sentences, after which they have both returned into towns where they live and work.

And the show may begin….

The Singleman was classified into a high priority category which you don`t let go. To be more precised, the travesty with direct flirting, sighing and admiration, with detalied and careful planning was on. Actively.

This was going on about a month and a half ago. `Till now, they saw each other 3 times till then. In the meanwhile the Ringcovetor have requested and procured a transfer from her firm to a city where the Singleman lives and works. She is already making plans of which wedding dress will she buy and looking for an apartment where THEY will live. Should I say that not even one of this plans was mentioned to the Singleman and that he hasn`t a slighest idea of the diabolique plan? I guess not, you have figuared it out…..

I am standing in the street, after meeting this female hunter, and the Ringcovetor is euphorically „reporting“ the newest data of her grand plan. Like I said, I am standing there, nodding in silence but not bealiving. What the…?!?!? How…? What is wrong with her? How in the world can someone do that to another person?!? After the primary surprise, I dare to ask how he looks like (yes, I know, it is superficial, but after that kind of report, I couldn`t remember what would be the suitable response).

And this was the answer. „…well…he is not exactly what we would say goodlooking…Normally, I like strong developed men and he is.. hm…kind of tiny. His face is not the prettiest neither….“. And again, what the…..????

So my next question was what do they have in common. And…silence. She is not saying anything and I – I am waiting…

She is probably thinking „who the hell she thinks she is, bothering me with some irrelevant questions???“ and I am thinking „Well honey, if you took the liberty to bother ME with it, and you really picked the wrong day, let`s go all the way down!“

After a minute or so she answers: „We…we are made for each other!“

So this is why I tweet innocently: „Really? Why do you think that? What do you like about him? What are his favorite things?“

She is looking at me irritated and says:“ I know it! What does it matters what are his favorite things?!?“.

Aaaaaah, soooo, THAT`s why! He is alive, single and you are under pressure for the time-table! …Anyhow, we said goodbye, she went her way and I took mine, still not bealiving what I have just heard. She has to marry at any cost, using all means, not giving a s..t how and with who.

I had this conversation a week ago and I still can`t understand it. I presume that when she stopped me in the street, she wanted to brag with her story of success, to me and God knows  who else, but she just can`t see how that makes her…perfid, low, pathetic and how that is degrading for both sides. And that this isn`t something with which you should brag with, au contraire – you should keep your mouth shout.

On the other hand, if the guy is blind enough not to see it, then I guess he deserves that. Otherway, he would move from this platform of super-fast trains for belated destinations.

P.S. in case I hear the sequel of this story, I will let you know.