Saturday, January 16, 2010

Is it just me?

It's Luxurious Saturday here. It's mid-afternoon, and so far, I'm still in my pajamas. I've spent the day hanging out with the doxies and reading. Among other things, I read the latest issue of Vanity Fair cover to cover. Bliss!

So, this is the issue with Tiger Woods all shirtless and sweaty. My first thought was, "Look at those abs. I wonder if that's what I look like, seeing as how I've done Shred five of the last seven days?"

And then I came back to Earth.

The article was all about Tiger's dramatic and unmatched fall from grace - not the details of what girls and where, but an overall look at his role in golf and society and what's going to happen next.

I find myself focusing on his wife, Elin. Girlfriend was so mad that she chased after him with a golf club and used it to break out the back window of his SUV. That's one angry woman.

Good for her. I'm a little jealous.

See, I've been that kind of angry before. And I didn't pick up the golf club, or the lamp, or the book, or whatever inanimate object was handy. Sometimes? I wish I had. But good girls don't do such things. I'm not saying that Elin didn't totally have the right to go after her philandering husband - I'm just saying that it's not something good girls are taught how to do.

About a month after I left Ex-Ex, I drove past our formerly shared home on my way to a yoga class. It was a Sunday morning. In the driveway of the house, I saw the car of his "I swear we're just friends even though we spend A LOT of time together" former high school girlfriend. On a Sunday morning.

Did I mention it was on a Sunday morning?

In that one, blinding moment, I understood why people lose their shit. Because the first thing that popped into my mind - other than "that whore is fucking my man in my bed on my sheets in my bedroom - which I painted myself, thank you" - was that I needed to go around the block. I needed to go around the block so that I could ram my car into her car. Repeatedly. It was like the chemical makeup of my body completely changed - I was suddenly warm and tense and made of some sort of liquid metal, like Robocop.

So, what did I do? I went to yoga. I cried on the phone to BFF for 10 minutes, but I went to that stupid yoga class, which wasn't yoga at all. It was tense liquid metal Cha Cha pretending to stretch and be all Zen when really I had hatred radiating off my skin, like radioactive sweat.

Elin did what I wished I'd had the opportunity and guts to do.

And even with Ex-Wonderful, when I found out that he'd lied to me about his coworker "friend" and whether or not they were on the same business trip together? When I caught him in a lie about a whore - I mean a woman - he'd admitted he had feelings about?

I was wearing shoes. It occurred to me to pull them off and aim for his nose. But all I could manage was a maniacal laugh! I laughed and felt totally insane! I told him to find me a drifter because I needed to kill somebody! And then? Then, I let him take me out for pancakes. I ate the rage.

Again? Kudos to Elin.

I am afraid of confrontation. I'm afraid of that kind of passion or volatility or lack of control - whatever you want to call it. I'm afraid of it, but I look approvingly at it when it's attached to other people, admire people who can harness that energy appropriately.

Not that brandishing a golf club against your husband and his car is the most appropriate action ever, but really? Really, the fucker deserved it. And I bet it made Elin feel a whole lot better. It got that sick, twisted energy out of her body instead of letting it eat her alive.

Me? I'm still a little bit pissed.

10 comments:

dallasdiva said...

I totally wish I could go off on people. Mr. Potential asked me if I threw stuff when I got angry. It almost made me laugh to even think about it. Ladies don't throw things.

You kick ass. You are the most ass kicking girl I know.

Andi said...

I don't need to tell you how much I completely understand this post. I've never chased after an ex with a golf club either, but I think that what I've done has sent the same message to them. I've walked away with my head held high and got on with my life, just like you have. And isn't that a stronger message in the end?

You are awesome and my hero.

Tracye said...

I have about a million things I could say, but well, where do you start. All I know is this: Throwing things towards their head is a form of therapy. So is cleaning the toilet with their toothbrush.

And oh, by the way, my fatass-exhusand took me out for Mexican food after we split up the property. Very civilized. Too bad it didn't last, thanks to my overhearing a very telling phone conversation he was having when he wasn't aware I was home. And yeah, I'm still pretty mad about it, six years later. And I had the luxury of throwing things, so I guess whatever you do, you'll always think that some other action would have made you feel better about it. And it just won't because betrayal sucks.

Jayme said...

You described that physical sensation of betrayel so perfectly. I also missed the chance to completely go nuts with a club. Instead, I burned stuff. Pictures, valued sentimental stuff he might wonder about someday. Tough shit. He deserved it and more. Plus, it made me feel better then and it still does now. But I wish I had hit him with a club. Hard.

sherilee said...

Yeah, I didn't do the hitting-with-a-golf-club thing either... but I wanted to. I did the drive-by-and-see-her-car thing, and that hurt alot, but I didn't do anything violent then either. I did yell. More than I've ever yelled in my life (and then I was called emotionally abusive. Um. Yeah.)

I give Elin full marks for expressing her frustration. While I wish I had done some things differently seven years ago, I am glad I didn't do anything gross and public and loud, even though it might have felt good at the time.

"She" has my ex now, and I'm pretty sure that's punishment enough for both of them. And I'm somewhere else, happier than I've ever been, and that pisses them both off too, oddly enough. So karma IS a bitch, but she's my friend. And a good friend to have!

sherilee said...

All that is to say, Cha Cha, that you're in a better place now too, and it will only improve from here. The pain does dim, but it also changes us too. I bet the next guy who cheats on you (or me!) will need to duck. I'm just sayin'.

Green Girl in Wisconsin said...

Nothing wrong with venting that rage--preferably with HIS golf clubs.
I remember how hurt you sounded back then. I am SO glad it has come to now when you have perspective and, most importantly, peace.

Laura said...

Yeah, what everyone else said . . . and you did the shred five of the last seven days???

GOLD STAR for you!

hope505 said...

"...chased after him with a golf club and used it to break out the back window of his SUV...."
ahh...a girl after my own heart.

Your good-girl restraint and poise are inspirational, chachariffic. You are a tower of power, at least trying to go through the motions of yoga class instead of ramming that ho's car. Huzzah, indeed!

Me? I'm one to grab for the nine-iron and start swingin'. Well...heretofore, anyway...

Trenches of Mommyhood said...

I get totally flustered and nervous and shaky when put in those situations. And then when I step back, I totally think about all the things I SHOULD HAVE DONE. It's so annoying.