Tag Archives: divorce

Did I Already Tell You About…..

Years ago…. like almost 8 years ago….I got divorced and bought a cute little condo out in Auke Bay, Alaska.  It was a tiny little place.  So small you had to go outside if you wanted to change your mind.

It was all mine.

All 600 square feet.

I could sit out on the deck and watch my favorite birds – Blue Herons – fish in the wetlands.  When bored, just throw some herring up in the sky and watch the Bald Eagles come swooping in to pick up their snacks.  Talk about excitingly scary!  It was awesome.

When I moved in on a Saturday morning a bunch of people came to help me carry in the boxes.  My new upstairs neighbor happened to arrive during our moving chaos.  I yelled out a hello to her and introduced myself.  We’ll call her Mary.  Right about this time one of my oh so funny friends decided it would be hilarious to loudly inquire where to put my box of sex toys.

I nearly swallowed my tongue.

MY —


We all got a good laugh out of it.  Mary didn’t know what to say and immediately went inside her condo.

Let me give you a visual of Mary.  About 5’3 and probably about 150 pounds.  Thick calves.  Outfit of choice?  Skirts and colored tights.  Shoulder length corse black hair – wavy.  Coats two sizes too small.  Probably mid-late 20’s somewhere in there.  Works half the year for the government and half the year at a bank. Sure.

Got it?

Good.  You’ll need it later.

Along with the sex toys.

Six months went by or more.  One day I look out the window and I see Mary coming up to the building wearing exercise tights.  She had obviously gone running.  Huh.  Okay.  Well, I’m not a runner so good luck with that one.

A few days later I notice Mary with a guy.  We’ll call him Josh.  Now you need a visual of Josh.

Think Hobbit.

That should do it.

Okay, you need more visual assistance?  He is about 5’3 also.  Wears baggy sweat pants and t-shirts.  Constantly has that Don Johnson 5:00PM shadow going on.  His laugh is atrocious.  Down right ridiculous.  Like a hyena.  This guy thinks he’s all that and a bag of chips….sadly he isn’t even the stale pickle (without snap) on the plate.

Not to mention he walked around like a Neanderthal.   I mean really Hobbit Man can you do something about those lead bricks you call your feet?  Even elephants don’t make that much noise.

The guy made me weary and I never actually met him.

Over the next few weeks the Hobbit comes and goes from her condo.  He’s obviously visiting from somewhere else and isn’t local.  He’s always over visiting on the weekends. I’m thinking maybe he’s a fish processor or miner.  Maybe he works on a barge or something.  Who the hell knows?  I don’t care.

Suddenly one day the Hobbit shows up and he has a beat up Toyota truck.  Rusty and a total POS (please read as Piece of Shit).  He’s here for a week and gone for a week.  Here for a week and gone for a week.

One night I hear him on the phone – cause he’s stupid loud.  Now, he’s just pissing me off. Going on and on about starting up some business.  Later, out at the dumpster I see boxes and cartons from some manufacturing company for “Buzz Bites” energy bites.

Hobbit + POS + Buzz Bites = you have to be kidding me.

Please note:  You are going to need to reflect back on both of their visuals, the idea of Buzz Bites and yes, the sex toys.

Finally, one day I go upstairs and knock on their door.  The music was so loud, even the people in my head were vibrating around.  The Hobbit answered the door as Mary wasn’t home.  I politely ask him to turn down the vibes before my chandelier becomes a nightlight.  I also explained how the noise travels very easily and if he / they could be a little more considerate that would be fantastic.

Oh, yeah, sure.  Not a problem.  Sorry.  Sorry.  Sorry.

Weeks go by and I’m sound asleep in my snuggly little bear bed one morning.  Slowly I drift out of my sound slumber and I’m like, “what the hell is that noise?”  I am half asleep and it starts again.

What the hell?

*More noise*

Now I am sitting up in bed.  The noise stops.


I lay back down.

*Noise starts again.*

Wait.  One.  Minute.  You.  Pain.  In.  My .  Ass.  Neighbors.

I am fully awake.  The Hobbit and his thick calved girlfriend are screwing.  After a yodeling like crescendo….the Hobbit yells a Tarzan like yelp:


Then….Hobbit leaps off the bed (I know this because the change in my piggy bank rattled on the floor and I’m pretty damn sure T-Rex is extinict) and takes off running for the bathroom with her right behind him.

Good lord of mercy give me a break.   You have to be kidding.

On my way to work, I go upstairs and tape a note to their front door.  I left no doubt in mind what I was talking about as I simply wrote, “Good morning!  Just so you know I do hear EVERYTHING downstairs.”

Being kind and polite can go a long way.  Emily Post and Sarah Lee both think so as does Dear Abby.  I am certain this will solve the problem.  Don’t we all want to be good neighbors?

A couple days go by and guess what….I am sound asleep….in my snuggly bed…..again.

T   H   U   M   P






Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.Thump.




Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.Thump.




Oh my god.  News Flash: No, you aren’t.

I am so not even kidding – I nearly fell right out of my bed with laughter and disbelief.  Yes, he yelled that.  Out loud!    Did  I fall down an acid lined rabbit hole when I wasn’t looking and I’m on a trip?  What the hell….can I rewind that?  What did you just yell?  Really?

Am I on Fear Factor?  No, wait it’s Candid Camera.  Oh – wait…I got it!  I’m on America’s Got Talent……. Snap.






Who says these things?  Buzz Bites…..heavy calves….baggy sweatpants….


That’s it.  I’m ready for the next event.  I have my game plan.  You ignored my note.  I tried to be nice.  Now, I’m putting on the latex and grabbing my whip.  I’m so excited I feel like I should be the one yelling out.  Let the games begin.

Tick.  Tock.  Tick.  Tock.

It didn’t take long.  That night I climb into bed and before I can get into my dream sequence involving the ocean and floating along with the currents….BAM.

Hit the rewind button from earlier….

T   H   U   M   P






Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.Thump.




Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.Thump.

Cue the yodeling.

Cue the Alaskan Minxy:  FINALLY – MY MOMENT HAS ARRIVED!

I leap up out from under the covers.  Standing in the middle of my bed…..jumping up and down like a two year old….I begin a rousing round of applause while yelling at the very top of my lungs:


Silence.  Cue the crickets.  Silence…………………………………………………

Then a burst of laughter for like two seconds – then silence.

Problem solved.  Never another peep.  Every time I ran into Mary from there on out – she never made eye contact.  Well, what’s awkward for you, is not awkward for me.  Thank you very much.

Lesson:  don’t mess with the Minxy.

Answer:  What?  No, I’m not telling you if I actually have a box of sex toys.


The Alaskan Goes To Hawaii

We’re on vacation.

In Hawaii.

On Maui.

It’s the exact opposite of home:  hot and sunny.

Since we’ve left home, they’ve received two feet of fluffy snow – perfect for snowboarding.  Of course!  The reports from the ski slope are fantastic and I’ve stopped reading them.  Who wants snow when you have hot and sunny?  Just keep the breeze going and we’ll be ok.

We’re staying with our friend George, while here on Maui.  The house is fantastic – comes complete with hot tub, pool and waterfall.  Sitting on the upstairs l’nai (don’t know what the proper spelling would be for the upstairs porch, but you get the idea.  This is also reason number 2 we’d never move here….we can’t even begin to pronounce any of the names.) you can see the ocean, which is a short 5 minute walk…..down the hill.

If anyone is interested, George is putting the house on the market for $1.5 million….

Why?  They got a divorce last month.  They were driving each other crazy.  She now lives up on the mountainside – where yesterday it was “pouring rain” which was odd, cause there were no clouds.  I’m thinking their idea of “pouring” is a little different than ours.  Of course, we live in a temperate rainforest back home.

When we arrived to the house, the day before Thanksgiving, you can imagine our surprise to realize George has both kids.

12 and 9.


One on meds.

One just between meds – thus the explaniation of the wild animal which is supposed to the be 9 year old – tearing around the house.  In George’s words, “we have to live with the mayhem until we can start the new stuff.” I’m thinking a stun gun might work just as well.

Eric tells me to “ignore it.”  Sorry, but how exactly can you ignore a tasmanian devil that is trying to literally climb up your body?  Screaming?  While you’re standing outside sweating to death?  It can’t be done.

The two brothers are at each other’s throats 90% of the time.  Within two minutes of Eric getting up and leaving the house the other morning for his walk the boys were up and I heard, “STOP! GIVE IT BAAACK!”  That continued to repeat like a bad record for the next 10 minutes.

About an hour later, someone is knocking on the bedroom door.  I ignore it, as I know without a doubt which one it is.  There’s a reason I locked the door.

It stops.

Feet run away.

Feet run back.

Knocking.  Knocking. Jiggle the handle.  Knocking.

Feet run away.

Feet run back.

Unintelligible words coming from under the door.  Knocking. Jiggling of the door handle.

(Note, if I didn’t know better, I could have been in a horror movie)

Suddenly the door flies open and here it comes, landing on my bed….having used a wooden skewer to pop open the lock.

Good morning world, it’s Donna and I’m in the third layer of hell.

Our first beach day!  We all pile into the car.  I always have to fight to get the front seat, I explain it’s because I’m the only girl.  In reality, I don’t want to get attacked in the back seat.  Actually, I’d made the situation worse I’m sure….

The whole way to the store to pick up sandwhiches the car is filled with yelling conversation, screaming, punches and whining.  Not five minutes down the road and I want to yell, “STOP TOUCHING ME!”  Little hands coming through the headrest section of the seat.

My head is ringing and I’m cursing the fact I didn’t bring any little bottles from the airplane with me in my purse.  I silently realize to survive the rest of this trip, I’m going to have to start drinking first thing in the morning.  We stop at a light and for a brief moment I actually consider getting out of the car and walking away.  There is a reason I came into this world as an only child –  YOU ARE DRIVING ME CRAZY!

Luckily the kids go to their mother’s house starting Friday afternoon through Monday morning.  The last few days have been filled with tranquil moments of sweaty sunshine, warm sand and swimming with sea turtles.

Here we are at Monday morning, the tasmaniann devil, having to be home schooled, because of his issues with the divorce – has returned home.  All is quiet in the house…because he managed to jump into the coffee table last night, causing his mother to take him to the ER and thus has a horrible swollen knee still today.  The other blessing for today is I believe the nanny returns – thank you Jesus.

Regardless, I instructed Eric to lock the bedroom door on his way out for his walk.  I am happy to have some peace and quiet, both windows open, birds squaking happily….while I sit here under flannel sheet to write this.

Yes, flannel sheets – this is winter.


Please note – as I’ve mentioned before if you end up in my writing, it’s not because I don’t like you – in fact, I love you.  You’ve just provided me with some funny moments I need to share.  Thank you for the material.