that's how I escaped my certain fate

Forgive the tangential title, por favor. I was listening to the Burma CD a kind friend burned for me this afternoon. (Shh! Don't tell the feds on us! [Oh, that joke never gets old.])

So, this is what I wanted to write about this morning but hesitated to. I'm going to try to take all identifying elements from this story, but I suppose if you're a really determined stalker, you could maybe figure them out. I'll take my chances.

My ex is involved in local politics. We don't live in the same city, but close enough that I get to read about his exploits in the paper now and again. He pretty much exemplifies what we all know, or at least strongly suspect, about local politics, namely that the people involved do not get involved out of any overwhelming sense of civic duty, but rather as the chance to feel like a big fish in a small pond or because they like the drama, the draaaama. In my ex's case, he originally became involved because his (ex)girlfriend was running for school commitee or fucking someone on the school commitee (at a time when he thought she was fucking only him) or some such. Believe me, I couldn't keep up with the draaaama, but basically he ran for office for revenge and/or spite. And then found out he liked it.

Fast forward several years, and he's up for reelection once again. I glanced at the front page of the local paper this morning to see an article about how incredibly dirty the race he's in is becoming and how one of his opponents supposedly is running a smear campaign, sending out info about every brush with the law, etc., that my ex has had from [insert year here] to [insert other year here], in an attempt to paint him as less than stable. My blood ran cold, I swear to god, because within the years referenced, our initial separation took place, and yeah, I had taken one restraining order out on him. I couldn't even keep reading because I didn't want to see if it was mentioned.

I didn't even want to know. If it was in the paper, I would feel so violated, seeing my private business from 20 years ago in print like that. I know that sounds retarded coming from a woman who posts ridiculously personal things on the internet. But writing what you choose to in a way that you choose to is far different than feeling raped by some fucking journalist putting stuff in the paper that feels like private family shit.

I get so disgusted about that when I see it in the national arena: dirt about politicians being dug up that doesn't just affect them, but also embarrasses their innocent families. I just never thought I'd have to worry about it in my own life.

xoxo