PMK strikes

Even though I am not totally immune to monthly crankiness and weight gain - sometimes I feel like the Michelin Man - a bad case of clumsiness is the only fool-proof indicator that I am suffering from PMS. It shows no sign of letting up as I slump toward the age of 50.

My first husband found it amusing. If he heard clattering sounds, breaking glass, and swearing emanating from the kitchen while I was cooking dinner (I used to be quite the housewife, renowned for her steak and kidney pie), he knew what was going on.

The latest pre-menstrual klutziness hit me this weekend. While I spent a good part of Saturday editing a white paper for my exe from 11 years ago, I took the Suzuki out for a ride later in the day. But after 20 minutes of nearly splatting myself in 20 different ways, I decided to return home. It was like every car on the road was determined to either hit me or play chicken. And then I almost dropped the bike while coming up my driveway. It was like my balance and coordination was on holiday.

uncharted post-marital territory

Ever since I found out that my tax refund would probably be entirely swallowed up by Estranged Husband's* unpaid taxes, I have been receiving unhelpful advice from anyone who found out about it. The general concensus is that I'm "too nice". The only dissenter was Ian*, who like me, realizes the dangers inherent in losing one's temper.

Ryan* even offered to intervene in my behalf - he found out when I called his friend and reneged on the Speed Triple. While I don't think Ryan was going to get medieval on the E.H. or anything like that - he promised to stick to phone calls - I found myself being slightly offended by his offer. I think he was trying to be helpful/supportive but it didn't come across that way. Perhaps I am a bit too touchy about the men vs women factor.

This is probably due to the fact that I've never wanted to be one of those typical harridan wives. One of the nicest things David (first husband) ever said to me was, "In 13 years, you've never nagged me". It's too bad I was getting on a plane to leave Sydney when he said this, but one can't have it all.

However, this doesn't mean I've decided to bite the bullet. I thought about how long E.H. has known about his tax bill, and how he chose to do nothing about it even though he certainly knew what the IRS would do. E.H. has been an accountant/controller for decades.

I dusted off the power of attorney he gave me in late 2007, when he packed his bag and left. And I realized that I could get pretty freakin' mean if I wanted to.

So I decided to give him a couple of weeks to a) contact the IRS, and b) come back with a repayment plan. If he doesn't do a) and b), I will move on to c), which is to whip out the power of attorney and start visiting people. I've never been to Nederland.

Guess it's about time to finalize a divorce, eh?

* See Key to Characters at right.

Never ending post-marital aggravation

Although I decided to quit harping about the concept of modern marriage - mainly, how unrealistic it was - it now seems that it can continue to bite you even after one dissolves the relationship.

Over the past few weeks I've been cheerfully waiting for my tax refund. It was more than I had expected, because last year I'd jiggled my paycheck deductions to lessen the refund. It didn't make sense to let the guvment make money off my own money; I would be better off parking it in savings during the course of the year.

I admit I already had plans for the extra money. A friend of Ryan's was selling his Triumph Speed Triple, as his wife was verbally abusing him for adding a pricey Ducati to his motorcycle collection without selling one of the other bikes. So I had decided to use my tax refund to get a slightly bigger motorcycle.

But yesterday, fate vomited upon my eiderdown once again. It seems that Estranged Husband owed back taxes as he hadn't bothered to make his quarterly tax payments in 2007. And since we had filed a joint return back then, the IRS didn't care which of us actually paid the taxes, along with the penalties accruing during the past three years.

I don't know the exact figure, but chances are my refund will be zero.

Estranged Husband apologized, and said he would pay me back. But not at one time.

I suppose I'll just have to look at the lost refund as yet more of the costs involved with breaking up with one's spouse.

The only bright side to all this is that Ryan's friend's wife had quit nagging him to sell the Triumph (at least for the time being). So he's actually happy I had to renege on the purchase.

chasing the moon

I've been reading the director Luis Bunuel's autobiography, My Last Sigh, with deliberate slowness. The book is thankfully as without structure as his films.

For example, sometimes a chapter will have a set subject, like the Spanish Civil War. In this chapter he admits to finally buying a rifle for protection, only to give it away in less than a week. He realizes he can't identify the group most likely to kill him and usually can't tell if someone is a Communist, a member of the Falange, or neither.

At other times, Bunuel will ramble about his rejection of Catholicism. He doesn't talk much about his movies except to offer reasons why he included a particular scene. Since his films were almost always a surreal rejection of religion, the upper class, monogamy, or politics - or a mixture - I found these explanations intriguing.

I particularly liked this observation of Bunuel's. Considering that the control freaks I've met could never manage to find any joy in life,  I think he has a valid point.

"All my life I've been harassed by questions. Why is something this way and not another? This rage to understand, to fill in the blanks, only makes life more banal.

If we could only find the courage to leave our destiny to chance, to accept the fundamental mystery of our lives, then we might be closer to the sort of happiness that comes with innocence."

I wonder if anyone will bring a date to this...

You could buy a really good lap dance (or two or three, depending on the venue) for $102.98. If I had to spend it on this show or a lap dance, I'd go for the lap dance.

If you want to hear all about “winning” and the real story from the Warlock, Charlie Sheen will be here next month to tell you all about it.

The troubled actor has added Dallas to his list of tour cities for his one-man show “Live: My Violent Torpedo of Truth — Defeat is Not an Option.“

Sheen is set to talk about what happened between him and his Two and a Half Men producers, as well as  his interesting lifestyle.

The tour has already sold-out shows in Chicago, Detroit, Boston, and Radio City Music Hall.

The Dallas show will be at the American Airlines Center on April 27th, tickets go on sale through Ticketmaster Saturday March 19th at 10:00am and range in price from $49.50 – $102.98 each.