Okay then. I guess you guys DO want an explantion. So, here it is:

First, I am sorry for not telling you after the first e-mail was exchanged. I didn’t say anything to anyone other than Jimmy because I wasn’t sure I WANTED to be friends with the girl. So, there you have it. I’m sorry.

Okay….here’s how it went down:

Over the last 4 or 5 months, Jimmy’s been saying “I think you and Sam (not her real name) would get along great. You’re a lot alike and she is a great person to be around. For obvious reasons, I was all “Uh…yeah…about that? Not so much.” I had no interest in waving to the girl as she walked by my place, let alone being friends with her. After a while, he stopped saying anything. I’m guessing it’s because I blew up at him one night and told him if I wanted to be friends with her, I’d do it when I was ready and he could either shut the fark up about it or risk me suffocating him in his sleep.

Two weeks ago, I get an e-mail. I see the name and my stomach flops around. Why? How? And most importantly…WHY?! It was a simple e-mail that said “I think we should talk.” I e-mailed her back and asked about what and from there? It took off like a rocket.

We’ve discussed everything and anything. Apologies were made, explanations were given. It was put in the past and moved away from.

Here’s the thing: if she wasn’t his ex-wife? She’s the type of person I’d migrate toward to be friends with. We really are a lot a like and she really is a nice girl. I passed my judgements on her without knowing her and that’s wrong. I hate when it’s done to me and there I was doing it to someone else. The girl is funny. During our 2+ hour playdate today, I laughed harder than I have in a very long time. It was nice to have a day out of the ordinary and it was nicer still to have part of my day be spent with someone that GETS it.

Maybe things happen for a reason. I know some of you don’t believe that, but maybe they do. I needed a friend here more than you can imagine and if finding one in his ex-wife is it? So be it.

Now, I totally get how off the wall this is. Especially given she wasn’t one of my favorite people not too long ago. It’s far easier to be friends with her than it is to hate her. Not liking her sucked a lot of energy from me and I wasn’t liking who I was becoming. She and Jimmy talk less now so, my cell phone bill can breathe easier. He’s accused me of stealing his friend and I tell him it was HIS idea way back when and to lump it.

Admitting he was right was hard. But, he said “it’s not about being right. It’s about hearing you laugh and seeing you feeling better. And, it’s about US being better.” And, he’s right on that, too (choke. gag. cough. puke.). The last few months have taught me a lot about him as a person and about us as a couple.

I agree it’s crazy to be friends with someone I harbored a lot of anger and jealousy toward. But, I also know hanging onto those feelings did nothing but stress me out and cause issues in my relationship. Letting go of that truly has made me feel better physically and emotionally.

And, I gained a friend. Sometimes, doing the crazy thing is the right thing.

It’s no big secret in these parts that I don’t have many friends and the number of Mommy friends is severely limited to two, but only one that lives in the same city as I do. Hold up..don’t get your panties in a bunch. All of you are rockin’ the friend list, but there’s the teeny issue of geographical location that gets in our way.

I’ve had a tough time making friends with moms in my area. Mainly because they’re all a bunch of stuck up bitches and think they’re better than everyone else. Partly because I have some serious self-esteem issues and am a social retard when it comes to being around new people (and even those I DO know!). Not having Mommy friends is REALLY wearing thin. I need an outlet. Someone who GETS it, someone who may be in a similar situation as myself. Someone who understands that while I AM a Mom, I’m also ME. My entire world does not revolve around the consistency of my kid’s muddy diaper (Rachel? I’m STILL giggling at that!!) or whether or not we recited the alphabet in Russian. I love my daughter with all my heart, but I need time to NOT be a Mommy. I want to escape with my friends for a night of girl talk and big people drinks. Sure, it’s fine if we talk about the kids for a short time, but I like to be able to talk about other things. I want someone to exchange e-mails with or IM’s or phone calls when we can’t get together. I want to get together with her and her kid(s) and enjoy watching my daughter interact with other little people.

I’ve been exchanging e-mails with a girl for the last couple of weeks. She’s a few years older than I am and her son is a year younger than Morgan. She’s home all day while the husband works and she’s in the same boat as I. No family here, a couple of friends and spends her days trying to keep the kid happy while maintaining what little sanity she has left. She, too, feels the money belt being tightened every now and then so, she gets that it’s not WHAT you do with your kid, but that it’s just BEING with your kid that matters. She’s not stuck-up, she admits to having Bad Mommy Days where she wants to drive far, far away. She likes to be with her kid, but also likes (and needs) that Big People only time that all parents need every now and then. She’s content to sit and shoot the breeze all night or go out and raise hell.

I like her. We relate very well to one another and share the same twisted sense of humor. We’ve met once and the kids played well together. Or, as well as a 1 and 2 year can play together. We’re meeting tomorrow for coffee and donuts (see!! We DO get along well!!).

Jimmy is happy that I have a friendship forming. Probably because it means I’ll stop whining to him everyday that I’m lonely and I want to move HOME! He’s been asking me for a while now if I wanted to venture out and meet new people and I’ve been telling him to lump it. So, admitting that he was right (gag. cough. choke. puke.), is rather difficult for me.

So, let’s recap: new friend. Friend has son close to my daughter’s age. Friend is funny, has twisted sense of humor, hates her neighbors. Friend’s husband works 13 hour days, six days a week. Friend and I are learning we have far more in common than we originally thought. Friend and I exchange 32 e-mails a day, and spend an hour on IM most nights. Friend isn’t afraid to speak her mind and while her looks make me feel more like a woof-woof, she doesn’t come off like she’s Barbie.

I never expected to make a friend this easily. It’s just not ME.

And I sure as hell didn’t expect that friend to be Jimmy’s ex-wife.

(Pick yer jaws up. I’ll answer any and all questions you may have. IF you have any. Who am I kidding. Of COURSE you’ll have them!!)

I thought I would take the time tonight to go over some rules. Rules of how to behave in society without being bitch slapped by people, stabbed in the eardrum or getting the Glare of Death from those you piss off.

Rule #1:

If the road you are driving on has a center turn lane? It’s for TURRRRRNING!! You do NOT stop dead in the left lane of a busy four lane (two in either direction) road at 5pm, waiting to turn into a mini shopping plaza. Wait. That’s wrong. You DO come to a dead stop if you want to get yourself killed. The center lane was configured into the road by engineers for a reeeeeeason!! For you to get IN it to make your turn.

Rule #2:

We all know my massive pet peeves about shopping carts. What you may not know? It’s not only rude, it’s downright stupid to see me get into my car to leave and then leave YOUR cart behind MY Jeep while you get in your car and make tracks. If you only knew what kind of curse words I aimed at you. If you’re going to be lazy enough to not return the cart, at least be bright enough to not leave it behind other vehicles.

Rule #3:

Don’t tell me to wait to watch the season finale of a show that appeared Sunday and then tell me Monday night that you’re headed to bed early. This ranks up there with taking all my damn ice cream the other night. (PS? I’m watching the show anyway. And? I just may delete off the DVR by “accident”.)

Rule #4:

Don’t come to MY blog and spew your nasty vomit. I’m pretty sure I know who you are and I’m pretty sure it just confirms my opinion of you even more. YOU are the waste of space. But, one good thing is coming from you and your word vomit: if you’re running me into the ground, it means you’re leaving your usual victims alone. So, say what you must. You didn’t break me then and you sure as hell won’t break me now.

(FYI? You can say you don’t care what I’m doing, but my stat counter says you’re a liar. You’re here at least twice a day everyday. For someone who doesn’t care, you sure do give off a different vibe. Thanks for caring so much. I appreciate your support.)

Rule #5:

If you insist on wearing white pants before Memorial Day, please be sure to NOT wear black underwear. Also? I beg of you to buy pants in a size that fits you and not in a size that looks like it would better fit your 13 year old daughter.

Rule #6:

Kindly check that your thong is INSIDE your pants. No one likes to see a whale tail while selecting fresh fruit.

Rule #7:

When backing out of your parking spot, it’s highly suggested that you put the car in REVERSE!! We do not suggest putting it in DRIVE and stomping on the gas pedal. I was highly afeared (shut up, it’s SO a word!) for the safety of myself and my child as we were standing in front of her bedroom window when you had a brain fart and forgot which direction you needed to go in.

Rule #8:

When you have three main jobs? DO THEM. Being the one to take care of poop patrol, garbage taking outing and wiping the pee you can’t seem to get IN the toilet isn’t a crapton of household duties. I offered to do them. You said I didn’t have to. I think it’s because you’re afraid said poop, garbage and wipes with pee-pee on them will end up in your Envoy. Smart thinking.

Rule #9:

When you see a girl buying Special K cereal, a magazine, a box of blank cd’s and a jar of organic peanut butter? Don’t say “Ahhh….the days of being single with no responsibilities.” Eff off, buddy. For your information, I am NOT single and I DO have responsibilities. Didn’t your mother teach you it’s not nice to jump to conclusions? But, two can play your game. So, based on the items in YOUR cart, I’m thinking the KY jelly is so your hand doesn’t chafe; that the 12 pack of beer is so you can forget it’s your hand and that the muscle man magazine is so you can PhotoShop YOUR face on the pictures of bodies you’ll never have.

Rule #10:

When your wife/girlfriend/sister/mother/cousin/Aunt or any other female you encounter says “My ass? Jiggles like Jell-O”, you do NOT under penalty of death say “It’s not THAT bad”. The only response that should cross your lips is “Damn, girl!! Get yer fine self over here!” Wait. Only say that if it’s to your wife or girlfriend. Saying that to your sister or any other family member is just WRONG. Saying it to any random female you encounter? Well, that’s a sure fire way to get yourself punched in the twig and giggle berries.

So. Read. Study. Pass along. Or, print it out and stash it in your car for emergency toilet paper. Do as you wish.

I? Am going to eat ice cream and watch a season finale.