Drinks last night with Mr. Node & his lovely wife Schmutzie (or, conversely, Schmutzie and her lovely husband Mr. Node - why not just say the Node/Schmutzies and be done with it…but I digress).  A pleasant enough evening – although I fear with all of my kid/baby talk that I’m turning into one of those boring people that old friends see once or twice yearly out of a sense of duty.  We caught up on what little gossip there is in town – mostly related Mr. Node’s present and my past psychological slaughterhouse of a workplace. 

 

I did find out one thing, though, that for some reason has me in a lather – my idiot ex, who is marrying his anorexic Olive-Oyl of a dancer in August has quite deliberately left the Node/Schmutzies off of his invitation list despite the following factoids:

 

1)     Mr. Node and my ex have been friends since Mr. Node moved here in 1989.

2)     My ex was the best man at the union of Node and Schmutzie (god, anonymity can be cutely annoying at times – but I hate a dangling participle) four years ago.  Mr. Node even paid for the ex’s suit for said wedding.

3)     Neither Node nor Schmutzie, to my knowledge, at least, made any great declarations of side-taking when the ex walked out on me and the kiddoes and went off to enjoy his second adolescence.  Not that they weren’t sympathetic, but they also brunched with the new happy couple and Mr. Node took over my former duties as the ex’s spell/grammar checker on academic papers. 

 

While I always delight when my ex acts like a prick, I had to fight the impulse to apologize for the ex’s behaviour – thankfully no longer my job.  It helped to remind me that, despite the hurt of being ditched after over a decade and two kids for a neurotic, anorexic, not-to-bright floozy and the consistent annoyances that I have borne at my ex’s hands (late support payments, late or early kid drop offs, etc. ad nauseum), I am in a good place now, with a good partner, a new baby on the way, and  two awesome kids (if nothing else, he gave me some good genetic material).

 

So, Node and Schmutzie, while it is unfortunate that you were left off the prestigious guest list for what will undoubtedly rival royal weddings and celebrity divorces as the EVENT OF THE CENTURY, please know that you can always call me for beers, even if, for the time being, I can only watch you drink them with quiet, pregnant envy in my heart.  If I ever do have anything approximating a social event that might be considered prestigious (not that mine ever are) you will be on the top of my guest list. 

 

Back to work, y’all.  Later…