No Ragrets

So. Soooo. Some of you readers know the Soctopus' Mom has been battling breast cancer for many years. A few of you know that she recently was diagnosed, after almost 8 years of remission, with metastases to the lung and bone. That's bad. Really, really bad. So bad. But still, there was always a kernel of hope. Especially because Mom Soctopus is a fighter, and very positive. Whelp.

The Soctopus just spoke with her Mom's MD. That rash Mom Soctopus hid for two months? The biopsy is back, and it's cutaneous metastatic breast cancer. Which is a diagnosis that essentially means treatment stops, hope ends, and tears come. Essentially, a diagnosis of Abandon Hope, All Ye Who Enter Here. The Soctopus has cried tonight, let me tell you. A lot.

So the Soctopus ladies spoke this evening and decided on three days to cry, to get it all out. And then we plan our adventures. Every few months, we'll go on an adventure of Mom Soctopus' choice, and make this time as fun as we can. No ragrets, y'all. Not even one letter. Live your life to the fullest and never forget to say "I love you."

Balms Away!

ZOMG Epically Epic goodies!

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The Soctopus came home to an amazing -dare I say it- epic mail day this afternoon. Less than one week after placing a custom order, my Epically Epic Soap Co. order arrived. (Side note: service from Epically Epic Soap has always been outstanding. Always.) This order included a lip tint ($3.75), a lip balm ($3.75), and two Many -Purpose Balms ($8.50). I've ordered from EESC many times over the past several years, and I've always been happy with my purchases. This is no exception.

This order included the Cranberry Lime balm, Summer Nights balm, Rainbow Sherbet lip balm, and Peach Macaroon lip tint. The balms are amazing. Cranberry lime smells like cranberry ginger ale, light and clean. Summer Nights is one of my favorite scents. This is the second balm I've ordered in the same scent, because the first tin was used up with love. It is a peach/patchouli scent, which sounds odd on paper but is magnificent in person. It also goes nicely with the Peach Macaroon lip tint, which leaves a light wash of peachy coral color, like a flush, and smells like sweet peaches on the lips. The Many-Purpose balms are smooth and light and sink into the skin quickly without leaving an oily or greasy residue. I usually carry one in my purse to use as a cuticle balm, hand lotion, and hair smoother. It truly is "many purpose." I own an Argon Oil Hair Mist in Summer Nights as well, and find it to be an excellent skin oil as well. The Hair Mists aren't currently available as the new web store gets up and running, but it is worth messaging the shop owner, Allison, for availability.

I cannot recommend products from Epically Epic highly enough. Go! Go now! Go get yourself some Rainbow Sherbet lip balm! The prices are reasonable, and the goodies are outstanding.

*All items purchased by me, for personal use. All reviews are the opinion of The Soctopus.*

So, This Happened. Again.

The Drawing: "Epic Battle To The Death - With Titties"

Stage 1: Outline.

Stage 2: Shading.

So. The Soctopus *might* have a few tattoos. Or a few more tattoos. Remember all those years the Soctopus said she wanted a full back piece? Yeah, well...it's happening. Stage 1, aka 6 hours of nothing but a liner and some whiskey, was earlier this year. Let me tell you, 6 hours of just a liner needle is not fun. At all. Stage 2, aka "I can so do this, shading is easy!", happened two weeks ago. Next is color, and then the last session: background (water and tiny sharks). So I've said for years that when my back is done, I'm done with tattoos. Yeah...Not so much now. Next up is a coverup of terrible swallow that is terrible, which will become giant octopus that is giant and awesome. That'll be R hip, R butt cheek, R leg. Go big or leave the tentacles to someone else. After the octopod, half sleeves are next. One sea creature half sleeve, one candy/cake/ice cream half sleeve. Help. I've fallen into tattoo needles and I can't get up.

Oh yeah, and these little guys - a heart on the back of each arm. Whoops.

I Bought Shiny Things!

Oh, hey err'body! I bought a bunch of crap at Sephora! Reviews coming soon. In the meantime, what's coming:

- Sephora+Pantone Universe Marsala liquid liner
- Sephora Cleansing Water
- Sephora Waterproof Black retractable liner
- NARS lip pencil thingys
- Elizabeth + James Nirvana BLACK perfume (I know, I know...I hate myself for this, too)

Oh, and a bunch of lingerie. But I'm not reviewing that for the internets. SORRY.

Who's Your Daddy?

Who loves her parents? The Soctopus!

Oh, hey Dad, I did a thing!

So. This happened. Again.

*Aaaaand I'm an idiot who forgot to mention that my work is done by Khalil Linane at Fist Full of Metal. Go see him, because he's awesome.*

Arrrr...gh.

So. It's time for some tentacled catch up. The Soctopus is still alive and kicking. Cranky as hell, but then, that's baseline these days. The above picture is of Captain Soctopus, on Halloween, that most venerable of holidays. A pretty good costume this year. Halloween was a hell of a lot of fun, and the Soctopus only threw one drink on someone! Not too shabby!

In other news, the 'Pus is decidedly over dating and meeting new people. It's like a game of Goldilocks from hell. No one person ever seems to fit quite right. So in the meantime, the 'Pus is going to concentrate on friends and family and founding an island of puppies to retire to. All dating apps deleted, all profiles retired. I suppose I hit dating shenanigans critical mass so it was time to take the Soctopus out of the game.

Did I learn anything? Actually, yes, but more about myself and what I do/don't want in a partner. Number one lesson: dating has changed in the past decade. A lot. Oy vey. Sexting. Sexy emojis. Too much to take in. Lesson two: while there are good men out there, you have to sort through approximately eleventy assholes to meet them. Decidedly not worth it. Lesson three: hot guys are *more* insecure than their less hot brethren. The best looking guy I dated was a complete hot mess, obsessed with his muscles and how women viewed him. Spoiler alert: not well.

Another lesson learned: if you remind me of Mr. Soctopus, either in actions or mannerisms, I will notice it immediately and kick you to the curb. Examples: treating my friends defensively, trying to control who/when I see, being emotionally vacant/unavailable. Last (short) relationship ended abruptly when I realized I was dating Mr. Soctopus 2.0. Immediate reaction: "run for the hills, DANGERRRRRRR!" Which is healthy, and a nice realization. The Soctopus prioritized healthy wants and needs over ridiculously good-looking! (I know, I know, I kinda can't believe it either.)

On the plus side, the Soctopus bought a panda-bear onesie and has decided that pretty much makes err'thing OK. Panda-pus? Soctopanda-bear? 

So Emo...

An introspective night, thinking of someone who came and went from my life, like a hurricane. A friend recently said some relationships are short and sweet, but no less meaningful. So that is the one I think of in the dead of night - short, fraught with emotion, but no less meaningful for its short duration.

Tonight, I can't help but think of this man, this flawed, beautiful, funny man. And I wonder: beautiful man, do you ever think of me? Do you lie awake in the dark of night, wondering how I am, if I ever think of you? It's been a long time since I thought of this lovely man, but tonight, I can't help but wonder, and feel, and think that I'm glad I had the short time that I spent in his company. I call it my "girl brain," that irrational hunger to know where he is at. It's unhealthy, and nothing good can come of it, but I want to know: do you sometimes think of me, too, and wonder what might have been? Do you miss my jokes, and terrible selfies? I miss you, beautiful man. I hope you're well, and happy. I hope you smile everyday. And I hope you remember me with a smile, a fond memory of the girl that passed through your life.

I won't contact this man, even though I want to reach out. So I'll just write this blog, in the wee hours of the night, and let out my feelings, and tomorrow I'll wake up, make my coffee, and he'll be a fond memory once more. Goodnight, beautiful man, I miss you.

Your Momma...

New tattoo, and the start of the full back piece! Oh, hey, I'mma have a back piece by the end of next year. This one is for my mother, who has been very ill lately. Next up is the other anchor for my father, then the pin-ups, and the fill-in for the rest. All traditional, all the back. I am excite!

Photo Album: Tentacles Up!

Snapshots from the last year:

 Good times and ice cream with friends.

 Dressed for summer, ready to roll.

 4th of July with a furry friend.

 Buckley the elk.

 Birthday tide pooling.

Once again, stupid-long hair and a happy smile.

Uniform for the rest of the summer.

A Year Of Living Dangerously...

...not really. This is me now:

One year post-divorce. Several pounds lighter, with a much lighter heart and quite a few more tattoos. The Soctopus has done a lot of new things this year, and met a lot of new people. Most good people, a few bad, several quite odd. Dating has been a strange and enlightening experience, one that still continues. Internet dating: bad. Dating in general: often humerous, occasionally fun, sometimes heartbreaking. However, I still have a whole heart and a spring in my step.

I went on a date with a man wearing an Affliction t-shirt and embroidered jeans (true story). Hard not to hide my face in shame on that one...

I went on a date with a married man. (Also a true story. Not a happy one.)

I got stood up, and I stood up a few people.

Somehow, through it all, I kept learning and growing. Things I've learned: it's OK to be by myself. It's OK to say goodbye to unhealthy people and do right for yourself. Try new things. Say yes to unexpected adventures. Live a full life and never apologize for being yourself. Last but not least, I learned to say goodbye to the past.

One year of growth and change, one year of learning to live happily. One year of learning the new, true me. I like this me. I think I'll keep her.

I Hate Moving

So, to recap the title: I hate moving. Moving sucks. You know what else sucks? Packing. Packing sucks. T-minus two weeks til moving, and guess who hasn't started to pack? Yeah. This girl. So how about we procrastinate with a list of what I'm doing lately?

1. New Books To Read:
- The Good Nurse
- The Violinist's Thumb
- The River of Doubt
- The Fault In Our Stars

2. Movies To See:
- The Grand Budapest Hotel (check and mark!)
- The Hobbit
- The Other Hobbit That Isn't The First One
-  Gravity
- American Hustle
- All Is Lost

3. Moving

4. Procrastinating

5. Packing

6. Procrastinating

7. Bacon Jam
(This is an actual thing that I'm making this week! It's jam! But with bacon! BACON!)

8. Miley Cyrus
I quite literally cannot and will not stop singing along with Miley. (Sing-a-long-aMiley?) This is clearly exactly what my choir teacher envisioned when she said I'd go far with a voice like this...

9. Lego LotR and Lego Indiana Jones video games
If I have to explain why, you're an awful person who deserves shaming.

10. Taxes
FML. No, really. FML.

So there you have it: what the Soctopus is up to. Exciting, scintillating, a little bit debased...or none of those things at all. I'll let you decide while I eat a bacon jam and cheese sandwich.

An Ode to Dragon

There are red lipsticks, and then there are red lipsticks. As every girl who wears red lipsticks knows, there is always one red that stands above the rest. Revlon Cherries In The Snow. A good, cherry-tinged, classic red. MAC Ruby Woo and Russian Red. And, last but not least, Chanel Dragon.

Dragon is, lamentably, discontinued. It came to us in two different incarnations, InfraRouge and Rouge Allure Laque. InfraRouge was a creamy, semi-matte lipstick, while Rouge Allure Laque was a long-lasting full-coverage stain/gloss. The lipstick version came first, and was EPIC. It was a true, darker blue-red, with subtle red-on-red shimmer. This lipstick changed my life. I wore it in high school, almost daily. I got married in Dragon. This color was my holy grail. And then Chanel discontinued it. For no reason. Dragon was a cult favorite from the day it was launched. It was a huge seller, and consistently sold out at cosmetics counters. But Chanel discontinued Dragon none the less, and for years, I lived a washed-out, Dragon-less life.

Then, suddenly, Chanel released a new product, Rouge Allure Laque, and, lo and behold, one of the shades was named "Dragon." Could it be? Was it the same Dragon I loved and lost? A quick run to Nordstrom confirmed that, yes, the formula was different, but the red was indeed Dragon!

I, however, only discovered the re-emergence of Dragon after Chanel had already discontinued it. So I went on a search across Washington and California, looking for the impossible dream: one last tube of Dragon that had, somehow, been passed over. (*Insert montage of storefronts passing by in the rain*) Dragon was nowhere to be found, as everyone else had already purchased the last few tubes. And back-ups. Finally, on vacation in San Diego, in Nordstrom, I found one tube of Dragon that another woman had on hold. The LAST tube of Dragon. And I convinced the Chanel clerk to sell that tube to me.

The end of this epic saga is that I own one last, coveted tube of Dragon, which I almost never wear. That blurry picture up top showcases the magic that is Dragon. Red. Slightly shimmery. Heavy. Sexy. It is, and will always be the best red. Until Chanel brings it back, AGAIN. (Note to Chanel: please do this...I will pay *almost* anything. Love, the Soctopus)

An Interesting Question

So. The Soctopus had an interesting conversation today with a gentleman who had some things to say about tattoos in general, and women with tattoos in particular. Very interesting. The conversation raised a question I will put to you, internets, and I want your opinions and answers. Comments welcome, y'all.

What the conversation boiled down to was this gentleman's opinion that women with tattoos, particularly "sleeves" or heavy, serious ink, are somehow differentiating themselves as less educated, less attractive, and "loose." His opinion was that women with tattoos show poor judgement and a lack of self-respect. I countered his argument, using myself as an example: educated, graduated with honors, hold a management position in my chosen profession, and -ahem- attractive. He agreed that there are exceptions to his rules, but stood by his statements. The discussion was civil, but raised a lot of questions, first and foremost: is it discrimination to judge someone by their body art?

The obvious answer (and my gut-reaction) is "HELL YES!" If you judge me based on my tattoos, you are judging me based on my appearance, and making decisions about my character. This is, as we all can agree, inherently wrong-headed. However, the quandary is this: I am being judged based on a facet of my appearance that I chose to modify, which sets tattoo-based discrimination into a strange and unique category. The question I have is this: can it be considered discrimination when the judgement is made on an optional modification in appearance? In other words, I *chose* to be tattooed, and had complete control over it. I opted to modify my body in a permanent and visible way. Does that render me open to outside opinions and judgement, again, based solely on a facet of my appearance?

It's an interesting question, and one I've been thinking about. I welcome any and all comments and opinions, and am curious to see what you, faceless internet, think. My personal opinion is that most negative opinions around tattooed people have their roots in ignorance and bias, as well as long-held cultural stereotypes about people with tattoos. I believe it's time to judge someone based on their character more than their skin color (or colors, for those with body art). But then, I am someone with tattoos. So come on, internet! Let's have a discussion!

Yeeeeouch!

I did a thing! With needles!

(Spoiler alert: it fucking hurt.)

Why horseshoes? I've been feeling lucky lately, so why not make that luck permanent? But the big news is that these are the first tattoos I really have to hide at work, meaning long sleeves at work all year round. The flip side of that coin is that if I have to cover my arms for work now anyways, then sleeves aren't out of the question anymore. As a matter of fact, sleeves are now planned, with the artist thinking of designs. So that's coming, and I am excite.

(Spoiler alert #2: 3.5 hours is a looong time to sit still for needles. Maybe a bit too long.)

(Spoiler alert #3: yes, Dad said he was very disappointed in me. Again. Or still. I can't keep up.)

Emotional Trainwrecks Beware...

Oh, hey, internet! I missed you! But the Soctopus is back, again. Last time we spoke, I mentioned re-entering the dating pool and promised a few tales of woe and misfortune. Whelp. Here you go:

So a ways back, I met a lovely man. Just a peach. Handsome. Funny. Smart. And, unfortunately, broken. (Dear Other Women: STOP IT.) The Soctopus liked this gentleman very much, but it became clear very quickly that he had a steamer trunk full of baggage and issues, and had undershot how deeply those same issues ran. (Way to piss off the Soctopus #1-10: sugarcoat your bullshit.) So the issue at hand quickly became "how much do you like him vs. how much do you hate dealing with other people's crap?"

The Soctopus did the hard thing and broke off contact, in a mature way. But, damn, it was hard, because the 'Pus really liked this gentleman, warts and all. Then there was reconnection, and more emotional trainwrecks occurred. And the Soctopus started to realize that this lovely, handsome, funny man was beyond repair. (And the Soctopus does not run a repair shop.)

One thing became rapidly clear, as the Soctopus watched this man suffer through an emotional morass in his personal life: he was not in control of his emotions. And the Soctopus doesn't like overly emotional men. AT ALL. So yesterday, after months of hearing every single friend tell her how hopeless and beyond help this man was, the Soctopus saw it for herself. And realized that it was true: this lovely gentleman was utterly, completely broken, and was not in the market for repairs.

The Soctopus also realized that she really has no patience for "sensitive," "emo" people in general, particularly men, particularly men she would like to spend time with. The least attractive thing you can be, in the eyes of the 'Pus, is overly emotional and needy. *shudder* Last night, over a long conversation with the 'Pus' oldest and dearest male friend, he said, somewhat humorously, "We tough guys ruined you for sensitive men with feelings, didn't we? Whoops." He wasn't wrong. The Soctopus is emotionally tough, and bossy, and in charge of her life and feelings, which means that any man that wants to enter my life has to be even stronger in order to have my respect.

So what did the lovely gentleman do wrong? Exactly that - he lost my respect. And once that is gone, it's not going to be re-earned easily, if at all. Telling me you're emotionally lost, and then wallowing in it? Not attractive. Telling me you're in a terrible place where your partner treated you like crap, and then waffling over that same person and place? You just told me you're weak, and enjoy being a victim. Two more things the Soctopus has neither patience nor respect for.

So the end result is that the Soctopus realized, finally, that no amount of patience would be enough, that this lovely gentleman was broken and wouldn't (couldn't) fix himself, and she walked away. Lovely gentleman, you truly are a nice, funny, handsome guy, but the Soctopus can't wait for you to wade through your own crap. And wallowing in your own emotional misery is pretty much the fastest way to make the Soctopus run the other direction. At the end of the day, the Soctopus really needs to be with someone who has room in their head and heart to make her the priority, not someone who needs the Soctopus to make themselves feel OK.

Surprise of the day: the Soctopus feels pretty damn good about the whole thing. Now bring on the tough guys, the 'Pus is ready!

The Soctopus Has 8 Arms For Bloggin'

Oh, HAI, interwebs! It's been awhile! The 'Pus just thought she'd drop by and catch you all up. What's happenin', internet peeps?

Where to begin...well, the Soctopus is doing pretty damn good for herself these days. Lean and mean, and back in business.

Heart-whole, and as snarky as ever. Possibly snarkier. Definitely. OK, I'm snarkier. I moved to my favorite neighborhood and am now a die-hard Ballard Soctopus. The 'Pus has also dipped her tentacles back in the dating pool. You all know what that means - SO MANY EPIC TALES OF SHENANIGANS. So, you know - stay tuned. Because that's definitely coming.

New friends have joined the old, and every single person makes me happy. No drama, no fuss, just a whole lot of fun and love. Mind you, it's not all wine and roses and tentacles. The Soctopus still makes hard decisions, but the difference is that there is peace in those choices. Maturity - it's a thing. So I'll end this quick welcome-back post with a happy thought: growing up is actually quite fun. I quite like the Soctopus I've become.

A Hard Day's Night

So the Soctopus spent last night with her very best friend and her husband. The kind of friend that knows all of your bad sides and weaknesses and loves you anyways. The kind of friend that you can always, always show your true self. This friend has been in my life for 7 years, and we've made each other laugh, held each others' hands, and been there for each other through thick and thin.

Why am I telling you this? Because last night, for the first time, I sat and talked with someone who truly, deeply knows me. *Me.* The *me* I am when I am at my most private and raw. And she stayed up with me until 2:30 a.m. and listened when, for the first time, I broke down and cried. And then cried some more. And it felt like my heart cracked open and so much emotion and poison flooded out. My friend simply sat and listened, and asked questions from time to time. It was painful and purifying, and for the first time, I sat and thought about how *I* feel, and honestly talked out loud about how I feel, in the wake of everything that has happened in my life.

There is a feeling that comes when a person feels so broken, so deeply alone... That feeling is indescribable. It's big, and scary, and raw, and it makes you question everything you know about yourself. Somehow, that one person you feel safe with can help to let that feeling out. (Almost like lancing a boil. I'll have to let her know I compared her to a boil. She'll love that...) During our conversation, my friend kept at me, asking me over and over again, "no, but how do you feel?" And finally, finally, I felt safe enough to admit how I really feel about the changes that have happened. About the tough choices I've had to make. I admitted to her that I still feel guilt over calling the police, even though I know it was the right thing to do. I admitted that I hurt everyday over the loss of my friends and my social life. I admitted that, late at night, I think about Mr. Soctopus and have a dream.

In this dream, Mr. Soctopus and I sit and talk. We talk about our relationship, and what went wrong, and we both admit fault. At the end of this dream, Mr. Soctopus apologizes. Not for leaving me. There's no apology necessary for that. No, in this dream, Mr. Soctopus always apologizes for the hurts he's dealt me. He apologizes for threatening my life, and means it. He apologizes for threatening my friends, and isolating me, and slandering me in public. He simply looks me in the eye and tells me, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I hurt you." And then I wake up.

So my friend asked me, "Well - what would you say to him if this happened?" And I was silent for several minutes, thinking and feeling. My answer? "I forgive you." That was the moment that the floodgates opened, and I started to cry. I'm crying right now, as I type this. Because my dream, my fondest wish would simply be to hear my husband apologize and let me know that he acknowledges the wrongs he has done. And I think the reason why I dream this dream, over and over again, is because it would mean the man I married is still somewhere inside of Mr. Soctopus. It would mean that he is not all bad, or evil. Because I want that man to fight his way back. I don't want to accept that this terrible person - this man I don't even recognize - is all that is left of the man I married. The man I loved. I want Mr. Soctopus to be happy. I wish him no ill will, even after everything that has been said and done. And I know, to the bottom of my heart, that Mr. Soctopus cannot be happy, cannot find peace until he lets go of this anger, this rage that seems to be driving him.

What brought all of this on? More of the same. More veiled threats to my friends, simply because they stood up for me, or refused to stop being my friend because he said so. More erratic behavior, which lead a friend to warn me to be careful, to watch my back. While I was in the North counties, enjoying the sunshine with my best friend, the 90-day deadline for the divorce came and went. So this misguided, needless fight continues, and we now roll towards trial. *sigh*

I wish for peace, both for my husband and myself. I wish for the end of this phase of my life, so that I can truly begin healing without the threat of violence or divorce over my head. I dream of the day that a male friend can take me to dinner without receiving threats from my ex. I truly believe healing begin, for both of us, once those papers are signed and filed. I wish for healing.

And Sometimes, The Bad Guys Win...

Do you remember the first time the world became a dark and scary place? The first time you realized that there are shadows around the corner, and people aren't always what they seem? I do. Today, the bad guys won.

Dear Virtual Diary:

OK, let's face it: this blog has been hijacked by the divorce and sundry proceedings. And you know what? I'mma go with it, because god knows I need a place to vent.

If you read back a few posts, you know how and when things went deeply, utterly south. South with a capital "S." Let me tell you what it's like to be in this deeply f*cked up situation, because it is truly bizarre and wrenching. I got into an argument with my husband, and he was so angry he said words that can't be taken back. Words that can't be forgiven or forgotten. Because words hurt, and sometimes words are a statement of intent. This person was the center of my universe, the man on which I hung the moon, which makes this situation so much worse and hurtful.

Today, I was served with affadavits from friends supporting my husband in this action. Boy, let me tell you, that hurt. A lot. Especially one of the names on that list, someone I trusted with my inner most fears and hurts. When a woman or man is in a domestic violence situation, they are unfortunately victimized over and over and over again. It never ends. It starts with the initial action. Next comes the call to the police where you explain the initial action and hope that the police listen to you and see your fears. Next up is a trip to the local Superior Court, where you stand in front of a judge and state what happened and hope your fear is enough to keep you safe. You hope a stranger will see your fear and agree to help you. Then comes the day you have to go back to court and defend your actions and explain your gut-level sense of fear to more strangers, and hope that they, too, will see your fear. Will they understand that you've changed how you live your life on a day to day basis? Will they see how you look over your shoulder and flinch when someone drives by in that same make and model of car? Will they see you, or will they listen to a funhouse mirror version of yourself, one that doesn't show you, or your fears? Because my life is now rooted in fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear of the future. Fear of what other people will think of you and what you did. Did you do the right thing? Should you have done something differently? And then your friends start to question your actions, and ask you if you didn't just overreact? Didn't you just get spooked? Doesn't everyone's significant other threaten them at least once? (That one was my favorite - I thought, "Jesus, I hope not!")

And so you continue to be victimized. And stigmatized. Because you broke that code. You spoke up. You said "NO!" And for that, you learn, people will shun you. I've never felt so isolated and alone in my life than I do now. Thankfully, I have a handful of good, true friends that have made it abundantly clear that they are my support system. That small handful helps balance the majority who either turned their heads away or told me to shut up and let it go.

It's my birthday this week, and I'm not celebrating. Not a lot to celebrate this year. But if you'd like to toast the Soctopus, please raise a glass this Thursday for all the men and women who won't back down, all the men and women who stand up for what's right. Please toast those men and women who fight on, in the face of adversity and scorn, because the Soctopus is one of 'em, and will always fight for what's right.

An Open Letter To My Husband, or...How The Muppets Make Everything OK

Dear Mr. Soctopus -

It's been awhile since we talked. 28 days, to be exact. Three days until we meet again, in front of a judge. It didn't have to be like this. In fact, I never, ever, EVER wanted it to be like this. After 19 years together, it shouldn't have ended with court, judges, and lawyers sucking each of us dry. It should have ended like it started: with the Muppets.

19 years ago, we had our first real "date," and we rented "The Muppet Movie" to watch at your house. The movie starts with a rainbow in the sky and hope, just like our relationship started. There were hard times in the middle, and things got weird, but everything worked out in the end, even if not quite how everyone expected. We could have (should have) ended this same way.

I know that Wednesday will be the last time I see you. No matter what happens, know that I loved you wholeheartedly, fully, and completely. You will always be the love of my life. That won't ever change. I don't wish you ill, I only wish you the best, and I hope you want the same for me. I hope you find someone who can give you all the things I couldn't.

Even after everything, I still think about you, in the dark of night, and I wonder - do you ever think of me? My heart is healing, slowly, but the days are better. I'm starting to think about finding someone else to meet and have fun with, something that was unthinkable not so very long ago. I want to thank you for all that you gave me during our relationship, including helping me to get my education. But now it's time to walk away.

Why am I writing this? Because circumstances have made it impossible for us talk, and I want you to know how I feel. So, like the little green frog, I'm sitting on a log singing you a song. I wish you well. No matter what happens this Wednesday, you were loved.

the Soctopus