True Story











{February 29, 2012}   The Past

True Story:  We think about it a lot don’t we?

My horoscope said recently that because some planet moved into some house of mine, people and events from the past would start to reappear. Hmm. Interesting, or not? Let’s move on planets. I’m done living in the past.

In a matter of days this is how my past haunted me:

1)  I heard about the passing of a friend from another part of my life that shared my first name.

2)  An ailment in my body I thought was cured re-appeared.

3)  I reconnected with some old buddies. LOVE when that happens, like no time has ever passed between us.

4)  My 4.5 year old pooped his pants. Really? I thought we were done with that phase of his life. You aren’t supposed to do that again until the end right?

5)  I went to a Film Festival that Prairie Love attended and won last year. Stop living in the past Ashley. That was so 2011. Time to make another movie!

6)  Interesting moment from the past this last week. A friend that works at a restaurant needed to call me to get the Vampire’s Number. She had apparently left the restaurant forgetting to pay her tab and the only person my friend could think of that had her number was me. Ha! I found the number. Glad to be of help.

7)  I heard new stories of other indiscretions and disrespectful behavior by my ex-husband while we were married.

There are many ways to approach this subject.

Honestly, Ex-Pump and I should teach a class on how to be divorced. A lot of the reason we can still work together and jointly share pleasant custody of our son is my refusal to stay angry. I’m not being a martyr here, anger will eat you alive.

First of all, I am not going to raise my son in a heavy atmosphere. That is MISERABLE on the little ankle biters.

Secondly, it’s just not fun to be pissed all the time. It sucks. I see people that are mad all the time and I think you are drinking the poison. You! You are pouring it down your throat and everybody else has moved on.

Don’t think I don’t have to give this speech to myself sometimes. I believe that you are not responsible for how something makes you feel, but you are responsible for how you react to that feeling. Events and situations with other humans have to be given their proper amount of emotion from you, and then set aside.

I’ve always been the kind of person that would walk around and kick and scream for a while and get real mad, then, I am ready to move on pretty much in a matter of minutes. Remember the scene in Witches of Eastwick when Daryl (Devil) is ironing his own clothes and stomps around high kicking? That is me for about 20 minutes, then it’s over.

In a lot of these cases we are really just mad at ourselves, right? Why did I allow such ridiculousness in my life? Why do I not respect myself more? Why am I such a f*ck up?

That last part might just be me.

Warning:  You have to have some space from the issue to get that perspective, like I don’t know, 2 years. Don’t expect people not to stomp around like Daryl once a day for a while after an unfortunate event takes place in their life.

For example, something recently happened in my work life that I am still stomping around about. Not enough distance yet, I suppose. It felt like someone I trusted said, I like you but you’re just not good enough. For a couple of days I wanted to go outside and shoot 2 middle fingers at the sky and everyone that I saw. I got pleasure in people cutting me off in traffic and let 14 people skip in front of me at the grocery store when I was in a hurry. Why not? That’s what I’m here for people. Go ahead, just wipe your feet right there on my back.

But, this too shall pass, and if I think hard enough about it there is a lesson there for me, damn it. This learn from your mistakes business is really starting to piss me off.

Least favorite things from the Past:

a. Someone reminds you of something you did while intoxicated.

b. Pictures of you fat as a cow that resurface. Like the ones people insist on taking in the hospital 10 minutes after your baby was removed from your body.

c. Awkward grocery store run ins with people from the past you no longer associate with.

Me:  Hi

Them:  Hi

Me:  You still uh… work at uh…

Them:  Yep.

Me:  Alright, good to see ya.

Them:  Yep, you too.

d. Food you ate in the past that resurfaces.

e. Past Boyfriends you see that make you say WTF was I thinking.

f. Clothes from the past that no longer fit.

And Finally:

g. Money from the past no longer in your bank account.

True Story:  A drunk girl from High School I ran into once said to me, ” Move on Bitch”. At the time I thought she was a b*tch, but now I think she’s right. (PS: That particular story from the past will resurface another time).

I read somewhere:  The past is exactly that. Send it on down the river. Tie it up in a pretty package and ribbon if you must, but send it on.

True Story:  Whew! Glad that’s over with.



et cetera