Dear Irene...

Surprise! I posted your comment. And no... I didn't have to "copy and repost". It was far simpler than that.

Just to enlighten you, you're the only other person who has said anything negative about the demise of my marriage. You're sorry to hear about it, my ass. You also don't know the first thing about it or what happened, so I would keep your comments in that regard to yourself.

As for any further communication, don't bother. I won't waste my time responding. What happened was a long time ago. You also don't know the first thing about that, either. As far as not putting up with me online, there's a really simple way to avoid it. Just stop reading my blog or anything else I write. Problem solved.

As for the rest of you, I apologize. I just didn't want Irene to think that I was ignoring her.

Another Satisfied Customer

I just got this lovely (and horribly written) comment from some cretin. I thought you might all enjoy it.

"SoberHope has left a new comment on your post "Holy Shit - She's Back!":

Oh are you going to rip them off too, Pam? Too bad you didn't stay away. I thought you had finally died like you'd been threatening to do for years, but I see that, like everything else you do, is a giant lie.

I'm sorry, did you think I'd forget about the money and merchandise you STOLE from me and just let it go? I haven't and I won't. Just like *I* promised all those years ago. Don't post this, I know you won't, but I am still here and I am still watching. Go ahead and block me. Baby, I got eyes all over this internet watching for me. And to answer your question, no, I won't let this rest. Not as long as you're active on the internet and especially not as long as you're active in the fiber community. YOU STOLE FROM PEOPLE. You are scum. I will never let you forget it. You're active in Linkdin now? Fantastic, so I am. I can see it's time to refresh the internet's memory a bit about you, Pam the Scam 'Artist'. I put the 'artist' bit in quotes because you're actually really bad at it."

SoberHope? Does that mean you're a drunk and sobriety is a far-off hope? Stay off the road so that you don't take the life of somebody who didn't steal your money.

This is obviosly a reference to when I had my online store open. When we got back from Sock Summit, I lost some peoples' stuff. I've never tried to hide nor make any bones about it. I lost it. I'm sorry. I took a LOT of stuff up there and even took up stuff for people who didn't sell through the shop as a favor. I sent everything back I could find. I even lost some of my personal yarn - which, by the way, one skein of which was worth more than all of your crap. I lost the stuff of a few people. If you're the one who made the stitch markers, I can assure you that none of them sold. I couldn't even give them away, they were so hideous and poorly made. Every effort was made to find and return everything, and we found some things when we packed to move. Apparently, yours wasn't one of those items.

If you wish to make nasty comments about me on LinkedIn, go right ahead. I'm not afraid of you, and it will only reflect badly on you. It's a place for professionals - you know, the kind of people who don't whine and bitch four years after the fact? Why don't you enlighten us all and tell us your real name? Eyes watching all over the Internet. Oooh. We're all quaking with fear and dread.

And no... I didn't die yet. I don't think I will anytime soon, either, just to piss you off. For my friends, enjoy. You know the truth, and you're the ones who matter.

Holy Shit - She's Back!

Hello, my dear friends. I bet some of you wondered if I died. In a way, part of me did. Hang on to your chairs and get ready to be shocked.

Mr. Goddess is no longer Mr. Goddess. Hr. Goddess is gone.

You read that right. Mark left me.

One fine evening a year ago in June, he got up from his computer and announced that he wanted out of our marriage. Then he spent the next three hours telling me what a piece of shit I was, how I had ruined his life, how he had given me everything and I still wasn't happy, how he had only slept with two other women besides me (WTF? Snatch is snatch.), blah blah blah. Then he left for a few days to "think it over" - and over my birthday, I might add. He came home that Sunday and, on June 26th, a Tuesday, he packed a few clothes in his computer bag, kissed and hugged me, and left for work. A day like any other day, except that on this day, he didn't come home, nor did he come home ever again. The last time I saw him was last October in court, and he looked so bad that my cousin had to point him out to me. I still didn't recognize him. He said to me that we "were over", yet he hugged me good-bye like his life depended on it. I think he's afraid that if he talks to me, he'll "weaken" and want to come home, even after all this time.

My doctor put me on suicide watch because I got so depressed. Mark refused to speak to me, even though he wanted to settle all this between us and be amicable. I got myself an attorney because he said on the papers he filed that he would be responsible for her bill, yet he won't pay it. I lost her because I couldn't afford the bill. Why isn't the court making him pay it? Even though he left everything to me, the truck he left me with is a piece of shit which will cost more to repair than it's worth and no washer or dryer to do laundry. So, for about 10 months, all I had for transportation was my medical scooter, which gets a whopping seven miles per charge. I did my laundry by hand. Even though my next-door neighbor and best friend let me use her truck to go shopping and her washer/dryer to do laundry, I didn't want to take advantage of her. It took me almost a year, but I saved enough money to buy a washer and dryer, as well as a handicapped van so I can take my scooter with me to things like Stitches. Even though the van is old (it was made the year we were married - how ironic), it looks great, runs like a top, and the upholstery looks new. It has about $20K in handicapped junk on it - at the flick of a switch, the door opens, the van lowers to the ground, and a ramp unfolds out so you can drive your scooter or wheelchair into the van. Hit the switch in the reverse direction, and everything closes up, along with the van rising back to normal height. The lady I bought it from had purchased it for her father but he died unexpectedly, so she just wanted to find a good home for it where someone really needed it. All I paid for it was $4K. We've become good friends, and I often go to her ranch to go horseback riding (I have my own personal horse, "Dolly"). I thank her every time I climb into that van. It's such a blessing.

Even though I'm far from the only woman to go through this, when you're in the middle of it, it feels like you're the only one. Loneliness is a physical pain. Sometimes, I'll wake up, confused, and call out for him. Then when I realize that he's not here, the pain hits again. It's horrible. Now he's barely talking to me - only through email - and wants to work it out without court. I know why - I think he's realized that if we go to court, I'll take him to the cleaners But I'm playing along for the time being. My doctor - and everyone who knows him - are shocked by his behavior and are convinced that he's been off his meds for a very long time. There's no other explanation. He won't even speak to our grands, and he adores them; they think (or thought, because now he's just another person who abandoned them), that the sun rose and set on his head. Since I haven't heard from him in a while, I'm hoping he's reconsidering all this. Yes, I still want him back. The thought of spending the rest of my like this is unbearable. We'll have to go through a lot of counseling first, though. So that's it in a nutshell.

Then something remarkable happened last week. I had joined LinkedIn a while back and forgot all about it. Then I got an invitation to join someone's circle. I checked it out and became more active in it. As a result, I got an email from a lady who has a client who needs someone to design and create a dress for her summer line (she's opening an upscale gallery in Los Angeles). I got in touch with the lady and, after interviewing several people, she asked me if I would take the job. I'm thrilled. Not only am I the sole designer/creator/jack of all trades, when she has the gallery opening, I'll be like a guest of honor. It's very exciting and scary. We're in the process of getting the right yarn and lining right now. When it's done and after she's taken it (and some others we'll do) to a wholesale show to get orders, I'll post a picture of it. So now I'm a designer and true professional knitter (even though this is crocheted).

That's enough for this letter. I'm tired - I tend to sleep a lot these days - and need to save some things for my next post.

I'm back.