Excuse me, miss?

Judging from personal experience, I have found those words to frequently deliver a certain level of discomfort. I mean, really. Who usually addresses you in such a way?

1. Melvin, asking for your phone number after he's convinced himself that you are romantically attracted to him when all you were really trying to do was read the Chuck Norris Top-10 list posted on the wall directly behind him.
   
2. The "nice" police officer, who always seems to want to know why HE pulled YOU over. If he would take two seconds to think about it, he'd realize his mistake. You can't get to looking this good in the measley 2-hours-worth of time you alotted yourself this morning. Blinker or bronzer. Need I say more? Side note: maybe don't tell him "you're welcome" after applying lip gloss. It conducts electricity better than you think and tasers are awful on the hair (ANY hair).
   
3. The evil, maniacal mom-of-6, in the toy aisle at Walmart, right before she excuses herself past you like an NFL linebacker "excuses" himself down the field.

Ok, I must be honest. I will gladly suffer through any of the above if I am referred to as "Miss" simply because it implies I am young and SINGLE. The same explanation also referrs to my previous post about that certain doctor's appointment. I got my test results back. Everything was normal (they use that term a little loosely, dontcha think?), but the one thing I was most thrilled about? It came addressed to Ms. Janelle Thorpe. I happily updated my marriage status while I was waiting to be (ob)seen. Never have I been so happy to fill out medical forms. Granted, I probably could've turned them in a little less-loudly. "Of COURSE they are completed! See? Name? Check! Address? Check! MARITAL STATUS?? CHECK!! Yes, yes, I KNOW I stated I occasionally have cramps bad enough I could fold an iron rod in half with my abs. You're missing the point! Oh, you're ENGAGED. Can I get a hallelujah from someone who has been drug, by their wedding ring, to the very gates of hell and back? Ah, yes, I knew there'd be someone. Oh, look, there's about SEVEN someones. Forget the hallelujah; let's go get a drink!"

Whoa.

Anyway, yesterday was an "Excuse me, miss" kinda day. I was at work when I saw two men pull up in a pickup truck. This is not unusual at an engineering firm, except for the fact that these men were nicely dressed and I couldn't hear any actual swearing when the car door opened. I watched them approach my car and check the VIN number. (Hey, I may be a girl, but I know where my VIN is. Still looking for that blinker fluid, though.) Once they had confirmed that it was, in fact, the car my car was posing as, they headed toward the office.

Being the lady that I am, I met them halfway across the parking lot. We introduced ourselves and they looked sheepishly at the ground for a fleeting moment before I heard, "We need to take the car." I nodded and smiled a knowing-smile. Wow. Levi is awesome.

I asked them if I was allowed to remove my personal items from it and as I came back out with the keys and a box, I regained my dignified, lady-like poise and blurted, "That's what I get for marrying an a$$hole." But they were very helpful in removing my stuff. Maybe they were just trying to hurry me up. Either way, I was complimented on my exquisite fashion sense after catching a glimpse of my purple Maglite flashlight. I left out the fact that I've heard it works equally as well as a croquet mallet for ex-husbands' heads. I've heard.

And you know what irks me the most? I put a full tank of gas in it Sunday night! Naturally. So anyway, blah blah blah, no mo' Volvo.

This is gonna get interesting.

Today Was Brought to You by the Letter D

...as in:

D)ivorce. Yes, it's still going on. Not much progress has been made. As of today, Levi has yet to see the psychologist. My attorney sent him a letter "encouraging" him to schedule, lest he be held in contempt. I'm not entirely sure what that means, but I've watched enough Law & Order (ok, ok, it's more along the lines of Judge Judy) to know that it's not good. There are a lot of angry eyebrows and gavel-wrapping and who would want to mess with that bulging, black bailiff who always seems to be sweating? Maybe his name is Contempt and he gets to have a vice-like grip on you until you comply. That should give you a quick insight into my knowledge of the legal system.
Anyway, my family and I have our home-visit tomorrow with the doctor. He is coming to observe us. Doesn't that sound hilarious? If he shows up in head-to-toe camo with military-grade binoculars and insists on talking in a hissing whisper as he "gets closah", I'm going to make it worth his while. Eating from the dog's bowl, rocking incessantly in a corner, turning the faucet on/off 17 times in a row, insisting I am invisible and demanding that he not look at me, offering him a bowl of candies and say "No, not THAT one!" about each one he attempts. I will give them names if he asks why not.
I think my biggest struggle has been Levi buying Eric inappropriate video games and that I don't think the supervisor believes me when I answer her question with the truth. I can quickly become exasperated if I think about it too much. "Yes, my life with him was/is ridiculous. That's why we hired you, remember?" I won't go into detail (for my own sake) but my faith is tested every Sunday, from 2-5, when I drop Eric off with the 2 of them. Levi slaps on his "happy mask", whips out his wallet, and tries to convince them both that he is a humble, sane victim of an angry ex-wife. Well, hell hath no fury...ha. Just because I loathe him doesn't mean I'd ever do anything to attack him. That would require more of my time and energy -- 2 resources I'm done devoting to him. But the same logic applies if I were ever to come upon him lying in a gutter somewhere... Just sayin'.

D)ignity. I got some test results back earlier this week. Ladies, you know the kinda TEST I'm talkin' about here. *Wink wink* Yeah, that ONE test you have to take ONCE a year that leaves you feeling beautiful, refreshed and completely violated. Ok, so now that we're all on the same horrifying page, I will continue. I had gone to my doctor (whom I love and would recommend to anyone; it helps that she is female), and as I'm lounging about the office in my runway-ready (white, goose-bumpy butt cheeks are SO in right now) paper-thin gown (ha!), we begin talking about what's new. Well, I tried a new nail polish, began a new season of Pretty Little Liars, and oh yeah, I left my abusive husband. I gave her 2, TWO, examples of things Levi does and she came right back with "It sounds like he's a sociopath." It was like she was commenting on a carpet sample, it was so obvious and casual. I tried (awkwardly) to sit up in the stirrups. My hands came flying up in relieved exasperation because that is EXACTLY what I believe Levi to be. I've been researching his behavior for YEARS. And that is what I've come up with. And the more I research, the more I believe I'm right. It was music to my ears. She backed me up 100%. Did I mention I liked this woman? On a side note, evidence suggests that women who kindly remove their dignity before stepping onto a scale weigh less.

D)iet. I found myself to be husband-intolerant. So I took him out of my diet. I lost 195 lbs instantly and feel great! *Not recommended for everyone. Consult your doctor before beginning any diet plan. Consult your attorney before beginning this particular plan.