Witness my hand

Yesterday Marvin came over with our official separation agreement, and we had to go to a notary so no one would say, "She was COERCED into signing those papers! She was totally drugged."

So I shot up and off we went, to the UPS store, where they have a notary.

By the way our papers are hilarious.

100_1269Husband gets blue couch. Wife gets brown couch. Husband gets two cats. HOW MUCH ARE WE LOSERS? No, "Wife gets Maui home and husband gets Rolex." I shall be entitled to one cat, two dogs, 80 pounds of fur…

IMG_1019Oh. That's not part of my divorce papers. That's from the poop test I have to take.

100_1266I cannot even begin to describe for you the level of excitement the dogs had when Marvin merely pulled up in his car. WHINNNE! WHIIIIINNNNNNEEEEE! That was Edsel. Who has tons of dignity. He kept running in a circle around the dining room table because he was too excited to stand there.

I feel bad that my dogs are from a broken home. I was, and now they are.

The CIRCLE of LIFE!

Photo on 4-12-12 at 10.27 AMBoom.

You knew I had to do it. Look how totally over me Edsel is.

Anyway, off we went, Marvin and me, not Edsel and me, to the UPS store, where all marriages end. Special delivery! It's the end of your dreams of not dying alone!

So Mr. McFeeley or whoever witnessed my hand–and that is literally what it said, "Witness my hand," and to be funny I waved mine around a little for the guy–and stamped our paper.

IMG_1028
Here's Marvin paying the guy to take me off his hands. WITNESS MY HAND.

Then we each got a dollar. I am not kidding you. For some reason we both got a dollar for dissolving our marriage. Had I known I was in for THAT windfall I'd have done this years ago!

When Marvin and I got our marriage certificate at the court house, for some reason they handed us this bag with a teensy travel-size deodorant, a small box of Tide, and a comb. The dollar was just as weird.

IMG_1034Here is dad in 1998, looking at my Newlywed Sampler. He wasn't super-short then, I took a picture from my little wedding album I made. Thank God I went to the trouble to make THAT thing. Nice spelling of "deodorant" on my part.

IMG_1030Afterward, Marvin and I went to lunch, as you do when you stop being married to a person. I had a BLT. He got french dip. I kept eating his, and it did not occur to him to say, "Stop eating my food, you're not my wife anymore."

IMG_1032Here I am at lunch. I look a little puffy. Unsure why. BLTs are famous for their antioxidant, make-you-slim qualities. Also, don't let me forget I can go back to this place to see some Nascar. You know I'm always on the lookout for a place to get my Nascar "fixin's."

IMG_1031Thank heavens. I abhor those super-complex napkins.

So that was it. After lunch I went home and did some proofreading. Getting married was way more fun because there was dancing and gifts. And, you know, hope. But what're you gonna do?

You take your dollar and you move along.

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Author: June

At one point, I was sort of hot, in a "she's 27 and probably a 7" kind of a way. Now I'm old and have to develop a charming personality. Guess how that's going.

121 thoughts on “Witness my hand”

  1. Amish Annie/Paul, I have one word for that...Sh*it!! Dang! Crap! Well, that's three words but whatev... says:

    So my idea of fake rubber poo and soliciting it to an untapped market has already been done? Rubber poo has been around for years??!!

    Like

  2. When I got my divorce, I too went to a Kinko’s, notarized and mailed, then I got a new passport photo and went on vacation… separated for 8 years, each lived in 4 different states, you know the 6 month residency thing…used my 4 time divorcee cousin’s lawyer. I wonder where the divorce papers are.
    Oh well the ex couldn’t spell menage et trois corectly in her diary… who really wants to fuck their Boss and his Roommate?

    Like

  3. When I got my divorce, I too went to a Kinko’s, notarized and mailed, then I got a new passport photo and went on vacation… separated for 8 years, each lived in 4 different states, you know the 6 month residency thing…used my 4 time divorcee cousin’s lawyer. I wonder where the divorce papers are.
    Oh well the ex couldn’t spell menage et trois corectly in her diary… who really wants to fuck their Boss and his Roommate?

    Like

  4. When I got my divorce, I too went to a Kinko’s, notarized and mailed, then I got a new passport photo and went on vacation… separated for 8 years, each lived in 4 different states, you know the 6 month residency thing…used my 4 time divorcee cousin’s lawyer. I wonder where the divorce papers are.
    Oh well the ex couldn’t spell menage et trois corectly in her diary… who really wants to fuck their Boss and his Roommate?

    Like

  5. Very poignant and also very hilarious post. My own paper-signing will take place in June (in the month, not in our woman), and I know it’s going to feel really weird to have it be made permanent. Some days I’m despondent about it, other days I can’t wait to be rid of him…but I know it will be a strange experience, when it actually happens.
    I do NOT understand why you received a weird little gift big upon getting married, and a dollar upon divorcing. WTF?
    The poop stuff is cracking me up. But I don’t understand the poop illustration. It looks like there are little wire hoops standing up in the poop, like in CA greenhouses where you have the big wire hoops in that shape, covered with plastic. WTF?
    I also wonder about the docs who gave the instruction about six different places in the poop. I bet a panel of docs sat around and mused, “Yeah, you know, five would be, like, not enough, but seven would be, like, total overkill.”

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  6. Several observations among the emotions. Marvin’s hair is turning gray, he doesn’t have on a checked shirt and YOU don’t look puffy, it’s the sweater that’s puffy.
    All this poop talk is hilarious. A good friend teaches 5th grade and he says every day either poop or fart comes up in some discussion in class and he always writes their comments on the board. I immediately thought of the BBP comments.
    I’m with Unruly-Haired Person, I didn’t understand the poop illustration either.

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  7. Amish Annie/Paul loves D of C's 50's, 60's & 70's references....who else remembers that kind of nostalgia?!?! says:

    Garden Girl, rubber poo has been around since 1972?!?! WTheck!!
    D of C, you always provides a glimpse of thoughtful, interesting information and then…kapoweee…we’re left wondering whaaa, huhh?? You should write a book.

    Like

  8. Amish Annie/Paul loves D of C's 50's, 60's & 70's references....who else remembers that kind of nostalgia?!?! says:

    Garden Girl, rubber poo has been around since 1972?!?! WTheck!!
    D of C, you always provides a glimpse of thoughtful, interesting information and then…kapoweee…we’re left wondering whaaa, huhh?? You should write a book.

    Like

  9. Amish Annie/Paul loves D of C's 50's, 60's & 70's references....who else remembers that kind of nostalgia?!?! says:

    Garden Girl, rubber poo has been around since 1972?!?! WTheck!!
    D of C, you always provides a glimpse of thoughtful, interesting information and then…kapoweee…we’re left wondering whaaa, huhh?? You should write a book.

    Like

  10. Poop! I’m so late to reading and comments today. Your post made me feel really happy for you. You and Marv both look at peace with moving on. Edsel is such a puppy. I would leg wrestle Zadge for him.

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  11. Even though he wasn’t The One for June, I’m still a bit of a Marvin fan. Probably because I don’t have to live with a rock doc fan on a daily basis. But I have to say that I found his undershirt showing out the sleeves of his polo shirt kind of endearing.
    SheriW juust cracked me up…poop playing croquet. I didn’t even realize it was poo – I thought it was some kind of specimen tray.

    Like

  12. The worst thing about being a medical student is having to be on stool chart duty. There’s an illustrated chart (Bristol Stool chart for you researchy types) and I have to take the patient to the loo, check their poop for comparison and write down that poor Mr X is having a type six day.
    June, I’m always impressed how funny you can be even on stressful days. Here’s to you rocking single life!

    Like

  13. Onward, June. Seems as though you weathered yesterday with the same panache as usual. With much admiration, I wish you peace, ruly hair, and unpuffy sweaters from this day forward.
    And what a public service you have done with the poop test! BBP – improving colon health since 2012.

    Like

  14. Nithya, I hope you don’t mind, but I posted a Bristol Poop Chart on Pie on the Face. I HAD to! A poop chart? Please!!

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  15. Kate (Pickle's mom) (He's doing fine, spunky as ever!) (I keep meaning to send BBPers Thank You E-cards) says:

    What apronstrings said. Both times.
    You’re so f-ing cool, June. You definitely need to have a divorce party.
    I have missed BBP, but for a good reason – I got a JOB! YAY! Much good job karma being sent your way as well, June. And to anyone else who needs it.

    Like

  16. Kate, Congratulations on the job! I think I remember you had like 3 or 500 at a time? So this one replaces the others, I hope. I’ve been wondering about little Pickles. Happy for both of you.
    And a poop chart! Who knew……

    Like

  17. Sadie and Just Paula (perhaps we’re separated at birth)
    BStar’s Dad lives right here in North Carolina…and in the state of perpetually funny. I could write a book about his jokes, hijinks, and shenanigans. Look – there’s the title.
    And, yes, we did have all sorts of pets who were supposedly not to enter the house so it was a plausible trick to throw down the fake poo.

    Like

  18. Gosh June, you keep getting more and more awesome. I am so glad I found your blog. You amaze me being all hilarious in crap (no pun intended) times.
    Also? That picture of Edzel is killing me. That poor guy needs a hug and some liver snaps, stat.

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  19. Yes, when I was working my way through college, I had a job as an aide in a nursing home. I didn’t have a fancy Bristol Stool chart, but I did have to record my patients’ bowel movements in the B.M. “book”. It was a “lovely” notebook at the nurse’s station with the words/letters “B.M. Book” written on it. And heaven forbid you should fail to record a B.M. in the book! Otherwise the poor patient would get an enema the next day! Once, I forgot to write down a B.M. I remembered at about 10 o’clock that evening and hurriedly called the nurse to let her know that poor “Ethel” had indeed had a B.M. that day. Sigh!

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