Great news my faithful followers.

Pause.

Lady Gaga has Monsters and ICP has Juggalos/Juggalettes y'all deserve a name!

Savsters? Savvy Panters? The Savvington Bears?

We'll think of something.

Aaaaaaand, back to the reason for my post today.

If you've been following along with my love story you might realize that the wedding is coming up. What you might not realize is that the big day is coming up IN TWO WEEKS!!!

Oh. My.

And that's why I'm here today; warning you that I'm going to be a leeettle M.I.A. around these parts for a bit. We leave for Vegas in 2 weeks, 4 days later is the wedding, then we leave on an 8 day honeymoon. So, to sum up, I'll be back and blogtastic on June 3rd. (In the mean time check out this recent post. Or this oldy but goody)

Don't fret about the long hiatus, that first post after I return will be amazing!! Well, amazing if you want to hear all about the wedding and see fabulous pictures!!

But how will you remember to check the ol' bloggy blog after such a long respite, you ask? Good question...

You now have the option to subscribe to Savvy Pants through your email!

That means whenever I post something new, a zippy email will head your way with an enticing preview of the story. Never again will you have to go out of your way to seek out savvypants.com only to be disappointed that nothing new has been posted.

You're welcome.

All you need to do is click the little envelope at the top left of the page (Or click here) log in and check the box to subscribe by email. Unsubscribing is just as easy if you so choose. BUT WHY WOULD YOU LEAVE ME?!

So subscribe today and get Savvy Pants in your inbox; starting with a delicious wedding post!!

I have bad posture.

It's a combination of laziness, genes, muscle memory, and unawareness. Oh, also mad computer time.

I hate it. When I see myself in pictures where the back of my neck is showing think I look a little bit like Quasimodo and I freak out.

At a chiropractic visit last year he placed his finger on my neck and lower back as he stated icily, "Hunch. Hunch." I asked him what exercises I could do at home to remedy my Beast-of-Notre-Dame likeness but was informed that I had to "get the bones back in place".

I left that visit devastated and tearfully rode the subway home.

For weeks after that I worked on my posture so hard I gave myself back, neck, and headaches. The whole thing was a mess but I was determined.

Months later I was enjoying a free massage courtesy of a late Christmas gift when the massage therapist pokes at a node in my neck and asks if I get a lot of headaches.

I sure do.

He then proceeded to tell me about how my back and neck were all out of whack and this and that was wrong.

"Oh, I know." I explained my dilemma with the hunch and my awful posture. I told him I had been meaning to get to the chiropractor.

Mr. Armenian-Massage-Therapist, former Gymnast-Physical-Therapist, tells me that the muscles are pulling my bones out of place and I can't possibly fix my posture (Or my hunchback) until I get the muscles in line.

He then proceeded to torture the muscles around my neck and shoulders.

Worst. Massage. Ever.

But at least we were making progress towards better posture.

Or so I thought...

Months later I went to a chiropractor again (a different one, that first jerk was awful) I talked to him about my posture and my desire to wear a strapless dress elegantly. He told me that I wasn't going to be able to fix the muscles without aligning my bones.

WHICH IS IS PEOPLE?!!

Neither of them could give me exercises to do at home and the only thing they agreed on is that just trying to sit up straight at home wasn't going to help.

This information might surprise you, but the massage therapist prescribed massages and stretching and the chiropractor prescribed chiropracticy. Imagine that.

Where can I get a third opinion? How can I eradicate my hunch? But most importantly, how do I look non-hunched in a strapless dress with my hair pulled up?

How?

You know those friends who only call when things are great? They only want to hang out when you both are happy and in good moods. You aren't going to share your deepest feelings with them and they'll never bail you out of a tough situation, but they are there for a good time. A fair-weather-friend, we call them.

This is the opposite of that.

This is the friend who you never hear from unless they are in crisis. They only call for advice or to tell you a drama-laden story. They only come over to drink your wine and complain. You are only invited over to their house in times of chaos so that you can help them out. Or if they need an extra hand during their move.

This is an Emotional Booty Call.

We all have these friends and we may not even know it. You may think you have an amazing relationship because they turn to you in times of need and you know all their deep personal trials.

These people are just sucking your stability out of you!

How do you spot an EBCer? Well, do you dread someone's phone call above all others? Knowing that when they call you will be sucked in to some sort of drama for at least a half hour. Do you know someone whose life always seems to be in peril? They may have wonderful and fun things going on in their life but to YOU they are always in crisis because that is all you ever hear about.

Traditional culprits are Ex's and chicks who love drama.

Cut ties with this person. You don't need that!

I mean, unless you like it. Some people like being their friends' "rock" and in that case, carry on.

But personally, if you can't hear about my bad day or call because something great is happening, I don't have time for that.

My previous profession turned my expertise into a regular EBC for MANY of my friends. I spent a LONG time thinking I had great friends who turned to me when they were at their lowest. I must have been important to them if they trusted me with all of their deepest secrets and darkest times. But the fact was, they were never there when I needed something and it got a little exhausting to have them in my life; sucking out my stability.

Never again.

It got old and I had to weed them out.

What about you? Do any of you have any Emotional Booty Call stories?

*I want to thank my lovely friend Holly for introducing me to this term. There has never been a more fitting way to describe some people we know*

Honesty really jives with me so I'm going to let it all hang out. In a series I'm calling 'There Are No Mistakes' I'll get real about my past, my pain and my non-mistakes. Let's all grow together, shall we?

I don't claim to be any sort of drug awareness expert but when I was trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with my ex-husband, Jedd, I wish I had had an article like this to help me know what I was dealing with.

Here are 5 of the most predominant signs I absolutely should have recognized, in no particular order, along with stories of WHAT THE FUCK!!

Picking: A common occurrence with one who is abusing their pain medication (or heroin, meth, and other drugs) is that they will pick or scratch at themselves. Sometimes this results in small scars and scabs on their face and arms. Sometimes, more...
WTF: About a year in to our marriage Tedd began scratching at the top of his head. It started off semi-harmless and quickly morphed into an uncontrollable habit that left him with a giant crater in the top of his head. He picked it so fervently that it never healed and hair struggled to grow there.( I wonder if he's been able to grow hair back in that spot.) He also pulled out all of his side-burns while we were watching TV one evening. Just pulled them all right out.

Lying: I know that it is hard to know someone is lying. If it were easy, no one would do it. Here's a little tip to know when someone is lying to your naive, I-believe-you-because-you're-my-spouse, face: If it looks like a fish, sounds like a fish, and FEELS like a fish, It's a fucking fish! When someone is completely open and honest with you, you can feel that. But when something feels "fishy", it's time to admit to yourself that you are being lied to.
WTF: I came home from work for lunch unexpectedly one afternoon (my fault) to find that he was also home. What a lovely surprise, right? I knocked on the bathroom door and announced my excitement that we were both home in the middle of the day. I heard a flush, then the water run and then he opened the door. I reached out out for a hug and a smooch but his face was all wet and he pulled away. His excuse was that he just washed his face. It's cool, I've kissed him with a wet face before. Water isn't an anti-kissing agent. Nope, he wouldn't do it. He didn't want to inconvenience me by transferring droplets onto my face. The whole thing felt rather fishy to me but I sat on it. My loving husband didn't have anything to hide, right? No reason not to kiss me, right? I later learned that he had been smoking weed in our bathroom and THAT is what he had flushed.

***Since this dumpster-fire marriage I have learned to call people on any supposed bull shit right away. "Oh, I'm sorry, did I make this awkward by confronting your lie just now? Don't lie to me then how'bout?!"***

Constantly not feeling well: Being constantly sick or "out of sorts" can be a sigh of drug abuse. When one is high in a situation where drug use is inappropriate (work, school, etc) this person may feign illness as an excuse as to why they aren't acting themselves. Other times the withdrawals will cause actual physical illness. Stomach ache, diarrhea, vomiting, cold sweats and other flu-like symptoms are all effects of withdrawal.
WTF: It seems like I spent 4 of my 5 years of marriage cancelling plans because my husband was "sick". Every trip we planned was ruined by being bound to the hotel room or cancelled all together. Sedd was either high and impossible to deal with or bed-ridden with illness as he withdrew. It was really fun y'all. When I told people we were getting a divorce there were a number of insensitive bastards that asked if it was because I was tired of taking care of a sick husband. I was saddened to feel that, after all of the excellent and patient care I gave him, people thought so little of me. No!! If I had ACTUALLY had a chronically ill husband I wouldn't have left. I left because HE WAS A FUCKING DRUG ADDICT!

Running out of medication early: This one is fairly straight forward. If one is given a 30 day supply of Oxycontin, that medication is supposed to last 30 days. If it doesn't, there is a problem. Maybe that can even be overlooked in extenuating circumstances, but if it happens every month and that person is going to the pharmacy to get next month's refill early, THAT cannot be overlooked.
WTF: Kedd had developed a relationship with a pharmacist in our area who knew he had a monthly prescription for all sorts of narcotics and could be convinced to refill his prescriptions early. I didn't really know what was happening until Ledd became too sick to do his own dirty work one month. From deaths own hands he asked me to go get it filled early. I did NOT want to. I didn't know much about prescription medication abuse but I did know that this was illegal. And also, it felt fishy as fuck! A large fight ensued and the bottom line was that by not helping him I wasn't doing my holy-union-bound duty to take care of him in his pathetic state. I sat in the car in front of my neighborhood grocery store and cried for a half hour before I finally went in and spoke to his filthy counterpart in crime. The memory of that transaction still makes me feel a little dirty.

Keeping everyone separate: Drug addicts try to keep everyone separate. If the people in his life don't have contact, they cant talk, can't share notes, and cant figure him out.
WTF: I didn't know any of his friends. That isn't normal in such a serious relationship. Maybe I wouldn't have liked them and we wouldn't have hung out, but that wasn't even possible because I didn't know them. And the ones I did know were under the impression that I hated them. Why? Because he told them I hated them so that they wouldn't talk to me. He tried doing this the opposite way once and told me that his friend Shamgela didn't like me. Well, I made that bitch cookies right away and took them to her at work, where we learned that there had been a misunderstanding (imagine that?). She and I started to become friends. Then Dedd brought home weed brownies and said they were hers, knowing my loathing for the substance. He did the same thing with his parents, telling us both viscous lies about the other to make our relationship so damaged that we preferred not to speak during family get-togethers.

Love, trust, and blind acceptance for my spouse could only go so far. At some point, I had to see the signs for what they were. And then run away. Quickly. I hope some of these are helpful to anyone else trying to figure the fishy stuff in their relationship.

Does anyone else have more signs that others should be aware of? Anyone have tips for shedding the naivete?

It took me 5 years post-divorce to finally blog about this but your comments have been so encouraging and the whole process has been very cathartic. Thank you all!!