Ive met someone Ive never met...cursed *bastard* internet
I emerged badly from the seven year relationship, that spawned three beautiful, intelligent sunny children. I was not unfaithful. I was not the one who fell in love (aw! please!) with a building society clerk from Kilmarnock, who for fuckssake likes Robbie bloody Williams. This may seem a minor point. It isn't. The X and I had roamed around this town, sharing a love of Punky melodic music. We went to the tattoo parlour together. When Kurt Cobain killed himself ( although I have a conspiracy theory about this.) We went to get our noses pierced together. I have a labrette piercing ( its my lower lip. near my chin...) You might be able to see it in some of the photos dotted around here...I love my four inch high biker boots. They make me an even more intimidating 6ft two.

Im different. Shes.....ak! normal!

I did not make his life hell for several months by being eaten up by guilt and guile. I did not accuse him of screwing around. I did not phone his mobile on one of the few nights out that he had and dump him. Curiously enough, it was quite the opposite. I did, however, once I'd found out about monkeygirl, go out and screw my best male friend. That the X had previously accused me of fucking every fucking time I set fucking foot outside the fucking house. At least I had some irony. Sadly it altered things somewhat between the friend and I. I thought that there was more to it than there was. The amazing, articulate mental spark did not translate well into naked drunken mumblings. And then the X found out about the fuckbuddy...by hacking my e-mail ( So not just unfaithful, but sneaky too!) I had denied this constantly...how to bring up that one...

X: Did you fuck him?
Kali: well...yes, Ithought you wanted me to...you went on about it enough!!...does that make you feel any better about screwing the brain dead monkey girl??

Anyhow, X finds out about Fuckbuddy. All H E L L breaks loose. Because obviously the once ( or twice...maybe three times...I forget) that I screwed Fuckbud, equates to the thousands of times hes been up the monkeytree.

I had some fun playing mental torture with X. I didn't exactly act with enormous reserves of Zen...I did and do want him to be happy with someone else if hes not happy with me...but its not just me that has to be considered. And I'll be fucked up the ass by Satan and all his little demons if he will be happy at my expense. I thought it would have been worthwhile attempting to sort things out with regards to the children ( forget for a moment that I'd never been
more humiliated...) I suggested counselling. He refused. We had never fought. Just drifted away. I suffered Post Natal Depression after having Hamish. (I remember driving myself to the hospital when my waters broke, because the X was too drunk to drive.) I came home from the Doctors after the diagnosis

Kali: Ive got PND! ( wearing it like a badge)
X: Are you sure?
Kali: ooh! nope, but the highly trained doctor seems to think so..I don't have the benefit of years of med school...and neither do you

I didnt say this. I just thought it.
We never spent any time alone together. neatly summarised the anatomy of the break-up.

check out similar tales of woe at bitterslut

Its all gone a bit one handed
For the uninitiated, Sparkmatch is so:- You fill out a questionnaire. It analyses you after a fashion and the gives its version of your compatibility with squads of 78-year old gay midgets on the other side of the planet, pretending to be perfectly well-adjusted straight, single good looking tall guys from the other side of the planet. You can gloss over the fact that you have terminal halitosis, eleven fingers and hair growing freely from your ears and arse. You upload a photo. It could be anyone. It frequently is.

I have met fantastic people through spark. People that I would never have 'known' if I had not been heartlessley dunped or did not posses a PC. The keyword there is 'known'. I have a horrible creeping realisation that I am friends (Friendly friends in some instances ) with people I cannot see, touch, taste, feel, hear. I have an equally uncanny realisation that there will inevitibly be a Hollywood Chickflick version of my life. A cross between 'Sleepless in Seattle' and 'You've got mail'(Note to casting. Please, Please do not cast Meg Ryan as me. Shes way too perky. I am not a Doris Day for the new Millenium. Please consider either Geena Davis or, ideally, Salma Hayek. Thank you.)There's a saying that friendships, true friendships are not dependant on distance or obstacles. This was obviously written before the advent of IT. I now believe that some friendships can be based on distance and obstacles


I've just read an article in my sunday paper about 'net romances. People with delightful pseudonyms, such as 'Hornihoney' and 'fuckmibutt' doing the old one-handed type in 'married but flirting' chatrooms. They did a survey. They always do. one in Ten women in the UK has had sex with someone that they've met via the internet. Thats real-life sex. How do us sad, lonely, pathetic losers find the time? Go away, We're logged on!' Thats another worrying thread, actually. I prefer the net to real life. I love the total emmersion in someone without worrying about his or her physicality. I love being able to sit at my keyboard with a greasy face covered in some expensive cream. Probably derived from monkey spunk and swear that I'm wearing spiky heels and a push-up bra, instead of my red flannel Jammies. ( note to my close personal friends here, Mibbe I am sitting here with my fishnet stockings on and very little else. you'll never know! you'll just have to choose to believe me.) Which is why surfer dear. Webcams are evil. Anyway, I'm guilty. I've indulged. But its been after prolonged courtships..( Watch amazed and entranced as she attempts to justify herself) It's no different to porn. You just participate in a more direct manner...

Inner serenity beckons
So, Im quite content with myself. Im not unhappy I have a feeling of encroaching intimacy with someone that I'm not quite sure of. I'm guarded and apprehensive. Don't forget what I've fairly recently been through. Im sure that this is a natural reaction and I'm not really a cynical, jaded bitch. But on occasions, like...oh dammit, hearing his voice for the first time on my voicemail, listenning between the words as he breaths in and out..and out and in...well...I'm good with words, but some things are best left quite private, aren't they? Then its heavenly. Im still cross on occasion. I've rediscovered bits of me that were forced dormant during the long term thang. I've found new things that fit me like old shoes, thanks to my cyber-harem..new music, new *stuff*...I've come over all zen I've given up the smoking that I used as a crutch - I'd previously given up for six years, before all the shit hit. ( Although I never smoked when I was pregnant or breast-feeding...what sort of mother do you think I am?) Funny, Ha, Ha.. I started because X started again. he started because monkeygirl smokes. Why would I want to inherit one of her bad habits, when shes got one of mine?

I've changed. I changed during the relationship into someone he felt he could betray, but Ive changed for myself now. I've started martial art classes ( So I can kick some sorry ass!) I've got a new tattoo ( hadn't been under the needle in three long years) I've stopped drinking *every* night...New net buddies have pointed things out for me, encouraged me and I adore them for it. They know who they are and in my way I love them equally, differently, passionately, compassionately. Some ( probably all..) have faults in the eyes of the world. It matters fuck fuck all to me. We are who we are, with and despite our faults. Part of the joy of the net is the total emmersion in someone despite the physical aspects. OK I'm worried that it lets my imagination create someone perfect that may not exist. But I 'll learn to live with it.
Maybe, overall, after all, I'm just a sad loner waiting for a conspiracy theory to form around me. ('They'll' ask people who I worked with...If there was anything 'odd' about me....'yeah..she kept herself pretty much to herself... a very private person...once I saw her type an entire report with her left hand')