It's been months since I wrote in here and I'm sure you've missed me terrible.  Or maybe you haven't, I don't know.  No one has been beating down my door demanding I write more - that's for sure.  No one has complained.  At least not to my face.  There have been no pleading rants via facebook or twitter (except I don't twitter - and I wish, for the life of me - that someone would explain to me the point of twitter.... I just cannot get into it.  I've tried many times.  I have.  For reals).

The last 12 months have been, by far - the most tumultuous and angst-filled that I've endured yet to date in my (ahem) 35 years.  They've been amuck with loss & insults & sadness & a tremendous amount of change... starting with my mom passing away (one year ago today) and ending with the apogee of 2012 - the ultimate ending of my joke-of-a-marriage (more on that later).  Somewhere there's a list of significant life events (who created this list?  What makes them an expert??) and how they cause stress and, no joke, I've had like the top 10 happen in the last 12 months.  I think the only one that doesn't apply to me was "retired".  Here's the list if you'd like to check it out and see just how stressful your life has been. While you're there, maybe you can explain to me what "make redundant" means and who thought to include it amidst significant life events.  At any rate, my point is - it's been rough.  It's been such a significant period for me that I feel like it's my own fiscal year.

That would be a good album name.  My Own Fiscal Year.

Where was I?  Yes - so I'm really hopeful that the next 12 months will be a lot more positive than the previous period and that I can apply all the lessons I've learned in my own fiscal year to the future - resulting in greater, more productive & even more thought-provoking ways o' living.  And really, if I were being honest here (which is what I strive for most of the time) - despite the fact that there have been some pretty awful things happening to me in the last year or so, it's been one of those life-shifting & destiny altering periods where (when it's over and done with and most of the bitterness has worn off) you can look back and see the lessons you've learned.  At least most of them anyway.

What are these lessons, you ask?  Well, I'm so glad you're *that* interested in my life, Chester!  I've compiled this here list to make it easier for you to understand.  I know most Jess-blog readers do well with lists (well, and with crudely drawn stick figure diagrams, but who has time for that?)

Lessons Learned in My Own Fiscal Year (Part 1)

- People are never what you think they are.  And really, how could they be?  Just as we each have our own opinions on things (foods we like to eat, shows we watch on TV, which New Kid was our favorite, etc.) - we are all unique beings and we all have our own perspectives on how we view other people.  I'm not just talking ex-husbands either.  No two people are identical in life perspective, religious upbringing, moral character, etc. which is definitely something to consider when you're passing judgement along in life.  I'm talking in circles.  My point is this:  it sometimes takes a tragedy to see who you really are as a person - and also who other people really are.  Through these dramatic events of cataclysmic proportions, you evolve into something better - something smarter.  These are gifts really.  Gifts of Wisdom. 

Gifts of Wisdom would be a good band name.  Gifts of Wisdom: My Own Fiscal Year.

I should get on ADD medication.

Back to the lessons...

- Life is way, way way too short to get caught up in drama & anger & hatred & not forgiving others.  There's probably more to this list really - but basically if there's something that is making you feel bad in life (you hate your job, for example.  Or you have an extra toe... anything) - then do something to change it. Stop complaining about it and dragging people down with it and just make a change.  You're no more or less special than Oprah, or Albert Einstein, or Mother Theresa.  Seriously.  You're not!  The difference is - those people got off their asses (no easy feat for Oprah circa 1987!) and did something with their time. They didn't sit on their living room couch eating Funyuns and updating their facebook statuses to yet another variation of "Woe is Me". 

I made this a Part 1 because I knew that I would be distracted with the chaos of my life and I wouldn't be able to dedicate the time and energy to this blog that it (and you - having patiently waited months and months for my words of wisdom) deserve.  So I promise to finish this list at a later time (soon, I promise) and continue to teach you important lessons in life (including my divorce story, which is really not as exciting as you'd think it would be) and I will abruptly end now.  Because some wise person told me that my blogs are too long (is that true?  Please advise)... and mostly because I have to pee, it's 6am and I have a sleeping 4-year-old on my lap, drooling onto the work shirt I never took off and slept in last night.  I never said I led a glamorous life.

I'm going to Ocean City today - to sprinkle the remainder of my mom's ashes into the beach.  She loved the beach, my mom.  Well - she loved Ocean City.  And really, she loved hanging out on the balcony overlooking the boardwalk chain-smoking, cursing and people watching.  But it would make a much more poetic statment (and less likely to result in community fines and riots than a heave-ho of charred DNA off a top floor balcony onto a lane of crowded bypassers) to put my moms remains in the water down there.  So that's what I'm doing.  Today.  Which is why I must go now.  If you feel so inspired - or even if you don't, but you are in a heat induced delusional state - you could leave me a comment below.  No pressure.

Oh, one more thing - I've missed you too. 

I think the hardest part about divorce, for me anyway - is realizing that I wasted so much of my life on something that was so bad for me. Of course, besides the having kids part, which I wouldn't take back for anything... it's a tough pill to swallow realizing that you stuck it out with someone who was actually the worst person you could possibly be with. It's embarrassing almost. The other day I sat down and tried - actually TRIED - to think of some moment...some memory of blissfulness...something (anything) to ponder and think back on that in some way would make me remember why I was there. And I couldn't come up with anything. NOTHING. Not one thing that I missed about my relationship before. That, in and of itself, makes me more sad than anything else. Sad and angry. Angry that I always give people the benefit of the doubt and it bites me in the ass more times than I can even recall. Angry that I took every penny my mom left me and used it to pay off a minivan, rather than pay down my enormous debt from college to help him out, only to be left without a car and financially drained. Angry that I have to be the brunt of immature name calling and deliberate foul insults because I ended something that was actually over at least 3 years ago. Mostly I'm just angry that I wasted my time. You can't get that back, ya know. Time. I'm getting closer to 40 and I'm just figuring it all out. *That* makes me angry.

I haven't blogged in awhile, and well - I'm sorry. Not for you really. For myself. Because I enjoy blogging and it helps me get out all the inner turmoil and self-angst that plagues my brain on a daily basis. That and the John Hughes movie quotes. "You forgot ugly lazy and disrespectful..."

I'm going through a separation/divorce. It sucks royally. Mostly because it's hard to realize that a person you were with for such a large chunk of your life is actually not who you thought they were... this is especially hard when kids are involved. Really, I give kudos to my soon-to-be ex husband for finally deciding that he had some feelings that existed that weren't blah. But he sure did pick a lousy time to display them to me and my children. I won't get into the details on here - for one, I'm still pre-court trial and I don't want to hurt the outcome. Secondly, it's depressing and chock-full of profanity - not exactly jovial fodder or laugh-out-loud material. Which, let's be honest - is why you come here. Well, for that and the nude photos.

I'm joking of course. I don't post nude photos on my blog. At least not of myself. That would be disgusting and would surely result in a loss of blog-followers. And I only have about 8. 9 if you count that dude in Brazil. (I actually don't know for sure WHO reads my blog, but I can see WHERE my readers come from, demographically. Someone (I'm assuming a hot, tan, shirt-less Brazilian dude) from Brazil reads my blogs. Not sure why. Or who. Or how. Probably that "poverty stricken" kid I send money to every month. Using my cash flow to get on the internet, eh? Poor my ass!). I digress.... (it's confusing when I do parentheses inside parentheses, isn't it? It's like blog ADHD (not that a blog could have ADHD anyway - seeing as it's just words on a screen and not a real human being)). See.... it's awful. I go away for awhile and come back to mayhem and the inability to write anything that makes sense.

Is it wrong that I don't care about politics or that coach that molested (allegedly) children or that Michael Jackson's doctor is guilty of murder or that Ricky Lake may or may not win Dancing with the Stars? I went full circle there. From the structure of our country's political system to a lousy, overrated TV program showcasing lame wanna-be celebrities. I don't care about any of it.

And actually, that's a lie. I do care. Well about the government, anyway. But I feel helpless and insignificant in my quest to make things right. I feel outnumbered. Powerless. It's like that dream where you're screaming out for help, but for some reason you can't project your voice. Actually, it's not like that at all. But I think you understand. No one is going to fix anything in this country until people start actually doing for themselves. Read "Dark Ages America" by Morris Berman. You will want in on my end-of-the-world evacuation plan. You can come to my underground safe house, but you have to bring lots of booze. And I hope you like reruns of Sanford and Son because that show makes me laugh a lot and well, I find Redd Fox a little sexy.

See. I've gone too far. I blame the 20% of Americans. Or wait, was it 14%? Well, whatever. I blame them. And those hippy homeless people in the tents down by the harbor trying to prove a point by living out of backpacks and not bathing. Hey Occupy Baltimore! The pseudo homeless have been trying this tactic for years and NOTHING'S CHANGED.

This is why I avoid politics.

I'm not going to keep rambling on because I find that the longer my blog is, the less time people spend on my page (Hot Latino - I'm talking 'bout you!) and also because my time these days is extremely limited. I've got some laundry to do and some children to tend to and I've got that daily routine of deep breathing to avoid running over the people I hate with my car (if I even had a car - but that's for another time). Thanks for coming back to my blog after all this time. I promise to not wait another 5 months till another one pops up.

And if I don't get back to you, have a great Thanksgiving. Dress up like a pilgrim and make out with your cousin like I used to do in the olden' days.