It's official

One's marital status is a matter of public record in Costa Rica, so I've gotten into the habit of looking mine up every couple of weeks, just to see. We were told back when we processed the divorce that it would take "a while," which I surmised might mean three months or so. When I asked the lawyer, he said it might be around that long, assuming the judge who processed it didn't find anything to object to in our custody arrangement. (Everything was consensual, so it was expected to be approved without further involvement from us.)

Well, that was in November, see, and that's a long time ago. First I thought, well, it was right before Christmas and everything shuts down then. Then I thought it was just taking longer because it's a government process and I've seen my share of government processes here.

It doesn't technically matter either way - it's not delaying anything else, but it's a loose end and beyond just "so it's taking longer than we thought", the only actual reasons I could think of for delay weren't good ones.

Anyway.

I wanted to look up the website for the university seminar I posted about last night, but didn't have the address, and when I started typing a keyword into the address bar of my browser, the electoral tribunal website popped up as one of the auto-complete suggestions because it uses the same combination of letters. (No, I'm not a citizen and can't vote here, but they're the ones who maintain this particular database.)

So I checked again, and there it was. All official and public.

Also? It's dated January 19 - six months and one day before I actually saw it. Can't say I'm surprised, but sheesh. If you're gonna maintain an online database, how about actually maintaining it, ya think?

Not a cat post - not that she doesn't deserve one.

It has appeared to be, over time, fairly important to some of the people in my life that I resume qulting.

I wasn't sure that I would, but on the other hand I never decided that I wouldn't. I just wasn't particularly interested in it.

And I might not have gone back to it, had it not presented itself as a potential source of income.

But it did, and I may just.

Except, when I actually got my supplies out today (and, in fact, carried them down the street to the neighbor's house) and cleaned off a nice spacious table and set up my machine and wound bobbins and everything...

It turned out my thread was aged and feeble, and not of a suitable quality for the project at hand.

Baby steps. Apparently.

It's getting to be a tradition...

...This not realizing it's towel day until said day is at an end. To paraphrase last year's remarks on the subject:

I didn't know about it in time to celebrate in the traditional fashion, but I have managed to follow the Guide's immortal advice all day. And since today is [one year since*] my last day with Alex and the day before I sign the apartment contract, it's really particularly good advice.

* In fact things were delayed, as things tend to be, and I ended up moving on the 27th, so it won't actually be one year later until Wednesday.

The Year

I ended up having about four hours of deep, personal, face-to-face conversations today. They were with different, unrelated friends and on two different, but related, subjects.

One was about me and looking back on The Year. The other was not about me, but about a friend who, it seems, is just embarking on The Year.

The other situation is not the same as mine, but my friend felt, very correctly, that I would be in a position to understand and simply listen to some of what needed to be said.

As I said more than once in, I believe, both conversations: Time helps. A lot.

I've been conscious of the evolution of my own Year lately, as certain dates have come and gone, and some of the issues that remain to be dealt with emerge and/or are addressed or, one hopes, at least furthered along a bit.

Not that I wasn't already, but having both of those discussions in the same day makes me really really glad to be at this end of The Year.

The things I miss, living where I do

I know of Ann Coulter, but I've never actually seen her on TV or read anything she's written. But I know her by reputation and she, apparently, has a thing or two to say about me.

And my kids.

Shakesville's Paul the Spud cites a Media Matters post that runs down a few of the more charming passages in Coulter's upcoming book.

Most intriguing to me, of course, was the fact that choosing to leave a relationship that wasn't working did not, in fact, result (as I believed) in me being happier with myself and my life, and consequently being a better parent to my kids (among other things).

Not at all.

Coulter calls children whose parents divorce "future strippers" in a chapter titled "Victim of a Crime? Thank a Single Mother": "In any event, divorced mothers should be called "divorced mothers," not "single mothers." We also have a term for the youngsters involved: "the children of divorce," or as I call them, "future strippers." It is a mark of how attractive it is to be a phony victim that divorcées will often claim to belong to the more disreputable category of "single mothers."* [Page 36] Later in the chapter, Coulter writes: "Single motherhood is like a farm team for future criminals and social outcasts." [Page 38]

Apparently, it was all about career advancement for the girls.

It's a perplexing world, where a book such as this (if you liked the single mother bit, you should see the excerpt on which Democratic presidential candidate was the biggest pussy -- to say nothing of the Nazi parts*** -- it's all really rather stunning) is destined to become a New York Times Bestseller, rather than (well, okay - perhaps in addition to) garnering the ridicule it deserves, or simply being dismissed out of hand by, one would have assumed, most rational adults.

* So the simple, factual term "single mother" is disreputable. Bummer. I guess I could switch to "divorced mother whose children Ann Coulter has determined are to become strippers** and/or criminals"...but that's so very cumbersome.

** I suppose any discussion of "stripper" as a potentially legitimate and profitable profession is a bit beyond the scope of this post.

*** There's actually a passage reverse-conflating**** Nazi Germany and the writers of Murphy Brown. I kid you not.

**** Presumably to nullify Godwin's law by preemptively assuming that the other side will be making the Nazi comparison...I have to admit, I got a little lost at the end there.

Home for the holidays

I am happy to report that I will be going home for Christmas this year - as planned since, pretty much, last year's trip home.

Not quite as happy to report that I felt the need to consult an attorney to be sure going home for Christmas can't later be held against me.

Bitter? Maybe a little. I'll be excited about the trip starting tomorrow, I promise.

Full circle

He read on the blog that my wedding ring was stolen from the quilt. So, on the way to the lawyer's office yesterday, he gave me his.

Gracias.

5:30 Appointment

Going to see a guy about a divorce.
No, no. It's a good thing.

Update:
Wow. And pretty simple, too. I figured we'd mostly just find out what we needed to know at this appointment, and what to do next. But in fact? It's...kind of done. It'll be several months before it goes through all the channels, but there's nothing else either of us has to do. How very humane.

Upheaval

It's just everywhere
A lot of it for the best
Some of it jarring

Shitty thing to do

I made a quilt in July. It came out like this:


I was kind of driven to make it in that way, that design, and it was all symbolic and stuff, of course. That's my wedding ring - recently removed - on the trunk of the tree there.

It was finished just in time and gladly accepted for the show where it was to hang. There were no awards or judging - just a collection of quilts answering the question "Who am I?" in whatever way each artist felt moved to respond.

I got a call from the curator of that show today. They're taking it down and I thought he was going to ask me to pick up my quilt. Well, I can do that too, but he was calling to say that somebody cut the trunk of that tree and stole the ring. And then somehow reassembled the thing which, having made it myself, I don't even know how they would have accomplished that.

What an unutterably shitty thing to do.

Gettin' Maudlin with the Muppets

Sing it, Robin. (Robin the frog, that is):



Plans are all made, but it's not quite time to carry them out yet. I'm all in-between.

Post-Blogging: Closure

Alex and I met 17 years ago on a trip to a beach called Ostional. Over the years, we have been there with my parents, my sister and her husband, and the girls.

We decided that a final trip there would provide a sort of closure, so we went this weekend. It was a good thing to have done.

We laughed and we cried. We spent every single minute together, doing things both naughty and nice. We fought and we made up. And on Sunday afternoon, we lay on the bed in the cheapest cabinas in town, listened to the rain pouring down on the tin roof, and took the rings from each others' fingers.

Wow. Lotta tags for a post with no text.

The Bean Trees - Chapters 2 & 3

No, I didn't forget. I just had a mostly offline day.

We're reading The Bean Trees and Pigs in Heaven by Barbara Kingsolver.

Here's the link to the post on Chapter 1.



Is this like when you learn a new word and suddenly start hearing it everywhere?

I swear I didn't remember anything about Angel - or even Lou Ann - when I picked this book. But there it is. A whole chapter about the ending of a marriage.

She had been thinking about herself and Angel splitting up for even longer than she had been pregnant, but didn't particularly do anything about it. That was Lou Ann's method. She expected that a divorce would just develop, like a pregnancy--that eventually they would reach some kind of agreement without having to discuss it.

I can identify with that. Her attitude is more purposeful and "it'll happen eventually" than mine ever was. But I did sometimes wonder if we would somehow drift apart or separate.

And I can certainly relate to her method: A) Notice a relationship issue (a funny noise in the car, a loose toilet seat, an idea for a quilt, the fact that the family will probably want something for dinner on any given night) and B) Proceed to go on living with it indefinitely, figuring it'll either resolve itself, I'll get used to it, or it'll be handled when it really has to be.

It's not a method that I recommend, mind you, but it's certainly a familiar one.

She wandered around the house with her grocery bag looking at the half-empty house. After four years there was very little, other than clothes, that she thought of as belonging clearly to one or the other.

This is where Lou Ann and I part ways. It may be different when it comes to actually dividing our things between two households, but after 14 years of marriage (and even more of living together) I can still look at most of our possessions - pictures on the walls, music, books (obviously, because we read in different languages), even some of the furniture - and know whose is whose.


Okay. The whole "talking about a book" think is really meant to have more to do with the actual book, isn't it?

...Except I don't really have anything to say. I missed my morning window of alertness (when I wrote the first part) so I think I'll leave you to talk amongst yourselves about how awesome Mattie is, and what you think that priest might have wanted at the tire shop, and whether you think Taylor will take a job at the burger place and leave Turtle with Sandi's son at Kid Central Station.


Let's read Chapters 4 & 5 for next week, since they're both pretty short.

Superficial

I've only even alluded to my separation from Alex twice on this blog. Three times, including this post right here.

In some ways, I'd like to comment about it more often. Other times, I'm not at all in the mood to write or talk about it, least of all publish it on the Internet.

For the most part, if/when I do say something, I'm inclined to keep it pretty light and factual. This is not, and never has been, a gut-spilling blog. As unattractive as it sounds, this is actually a pretty superficial blog in a lot of ways.

But "light and factual" turned out to be a problem, since some of the people close to the situation have felt that I was glossing over the pain, acting like it was no big deal. Taking it--or anyway presenting it--lightly.

And obviously it is a big deal. It's a big, horrible, painful deal for everyone involved, especially Alex and, soon, the girls. It's not being taken lightly by anyone, certainly not by me.

My own way of handling this is very internal and that, in itself, is hard enough for those closest to me to accept, since everyone wants to help and I'm not very accommodating about that. I'd actually rather be left alone, a lot of the time.

This is not the forum in which I choose to process the separation and, possibly as a result of that, it never occurred to me that those affected by it might want me to talk about their pain on my blog.

And to be honest, I'm not sure I can. Or that I should be expected to. I will clarify though, at least once, since I don't want to give the impression that this is a simple or easy process. This is painful for all of us. It is changing the course of our lives. I had assumed that went without saying.

Alex does not want to separate. He is torn up by this, but is being very supportive, both emotionally and materially. That part does not go without saying - lots of partners would not have handled it that way and the whole thing is orders of magnitude less horrible than it could have been if he had reacted differently. And it will make a huge difference in the way the girls experience it as well. A positive difference.

[Looks around for segue]

See, what I really wanted to post was that video way down there. And a few days ago I wanted to post some photos of the apartment I'm planning to rent.

But I haven't felt able to mention the separation at all, since the way I did it before ended up hurting people I really have no business hurting any more than I already am.

I really want to be able to post about this. Probably not a whole lot, but now and then, when I feel like it. And the things I feel like posting are very likely not going to paint a picture of the whole separation process.

Okay?

This is the kind of thing I'd like to be able to post:

Alex and I were talking about the girls this morning. How this will affect them, and the fact that they wouldn't be part of our lives if the separation had come early in our relationship.

Thinking about choosing to have children, and trying to get pregnant (which took over a year the first time), I gradually realized that Sunshine on My Shoulders, by John Denver, was playing on the radio. This was the song - the only song - that I sang to Robin every night when she was a newborn.

Change is in the air

Hmmm. Blogger's "Create Post" window seems to think I've used that title before. Well, it is again--change. In the air, that is--and if it means recycling the title, well, so be it. (...I just checked. The other time I used that title was when I switched to Gmail. That turned out to be a very positive change.)

The change documented below has also met with universal approval:








As for other changes...well, I do hope they will, ultimately, prove to be positive as well.

Having lived, together, with the fact of our separation for two months now, this week we began talking about how to actually effect it. Who will live where? (Him here, me elsewhere.) Who will keep the girls? (As close to half and half as we can manage.) When to talk to them? (Relatively soon; once we do some research into what, beyond what we instinctively know, we should be sure to do or not do with regard to them.)

Oh, and it's hard to tell for sure, but it seems like the baby birds are hatching today.

They say the more things change, the more they stay the same. Sometimes that's just not true.

But...but...Coasting Richly??

Coasting Richly was always more than a reference to my status as a long-term resident of Costa Rica.

From the moment it occurred to me as a nom de blog, I recognized the truth of the phrase.

Coasting.

Richly, to be sure. But...coasting.

Well, I'm not doing that anymore, and it's time for a new name.

I'm making very conscious choices now, and I need a title that reflects that. And, hey. If it happens to place me near the top of folks' blogrolls? Well, I'll just have to live with that ;)

* * *
So.

I am in the process of separating from my husband of 14 years. Early in the process. It's been two weeks and one day, in fact. That's pretty early.

I've had a lot of different reactions from the people I've spoken to about it. Some are immediately "on my side" - those who know me better than they know us. Others have gone, understandably, into "save the marriage" mode, in various ways.

I've heard horror stories. I've heard success stories.

And that's fine. The stories are...anecdotal. Each person, each couple, each relationship, is a world unto itself and, while the stories are interesting, they're not terribly applicable to my own situation; just as my experience may be interesting, or even instructive, to someone else. But more as a story than anything else.

* * *
I am doing something I don't think a lot of people do. I am choosing to step away from a marriage that is...not bad.

It's never been bad, in any sense of the word. It's never, and this is the important part; it's never--ever--been really, really good either. I have, for years, recognized it consciously as "not bad." It was only recently--and, in the eyes of my friends and family, precipitously--that I decided that "not bad" was, sadly, not good enough.

What did it take to make me really, really reexamine my life, and my marriage? To actually take (and to keep taking - it's a daily decision...hourly, even) a step I had never done more than skirt in the most superficial levels of my mind, even as I recognized more consciously that that my marriage was not what I would have wished for myself?

It took something big. Very big. To coalesce these quasi-conscious awarenesses into a single, conscious recognition. And to acknowledge it. And act on it.

It took something as marvelous, and as devastating, as falling in love with someone who is not my husband.

You all know Bob.

Yes, that Bob. Phydeaux. That's right, it's an Internet thing. Go ahead. Raise your eyebrows. Shake your head. Say whatever you've a mind to. I can wait, and you certainly won't be the first. It's fine.

Humans will reach out to other humans and connect with them through any medium that is available, because that is human nature. Even if neither of them has the remotest intention of entering into a deep and meaningful relationship; these things, they do happen. We don't get to choose. Little gifts from the Universe. Some of them are decidedly double-edged.

But here's the thing.

It's not about Bob. If--as has been pointed out to me, pointedly, by more than one caring soul--if, as I say, this relationship with Bob is "the real thing," then it will still be there in the future.

Its purpose in the present was to jar me. And jar me it did; to the extent that I really, truly acknowledged the things that I had been aware of for years--from the outset, really.

* * *
So what now?

Well, right now, Alex and I are simply living with the new reality. Giving it some time to sink in. I am standing beside him as he reels. We comfort each other as best we can. We have talked and shared more in the past two weeks than we had in entire years past.

Strikingly, working together to make this separation a gentle process by which the inevitable harm to all involved is reduced as far as humanly possible...may be our finest moment; the most wondrous thing we do as a couple, before parting.

I'm proud of both of us for the way we have handled the situation thus far, and I believe that we will have a strong relationship far into the future.

* * *
Updated to add:

Thank you, Mom and Dad. They arrived less than half an hour after I posted this. They're beautiful. And kind of quirky. Which is just right.