I can't escape the Nash Vortex.

[couples_therapy] How do you know when the relationship is really over?

2009-07-30T03:36:12Z

I don't think it's the same every time. Relationships end for all kinds of reasons. Sometimes it's your fault. Sometimes it's his fault. ~~It's usually his fault.~~ And sometimes you're both to blame. I think there are times when you don't even realize it's over until it's been over for weeks. As human beings we learn to delude ourselves. To hold onto things that are already gone.

I used to think it was over once you walked away, because where can you go from there? If you're not present, you've got nothing. But I've learned that relationships can long outlast physical presence. Everyone's had at least one relationship that just will not die. You try so hard to separate yourself, like yolks and egg whites, but that takes the kind of time and precision that most of us don't have. Maybe we don't want to have it.

Divorce papers mean nothing. Especially if they never actually go through. You can divorce yourself from any situation and still feel something. You can look at him, and think about everything he's put you through and all the night you waited up for nothing, and sometimes you still feel it. Love. That pesky, incessant little emotion that rules and ruins us. I don't know if you can ever really move on from it. You think, he hurt me, he killed me, he tore me apart. You hate him and wonder why there's still love there. But really, why would you ever want it to go away? Love is so stupidly rare and fantastic. So what if it hurts.

Anyway. Point is, relationships are never really over. Not if they meant something. Not to me, at least.

Muse | Lisa Bridges
Fandom | Nash Bridges
Word Count | 283

TM - 289 - Cheer someone up

2009-06-29T22:35:21Z

After the Student Academy Awards, Cassidy doesn't even have the energy to talk to Donna Pascal. Weeks and weeks of raving about the star of Saturday Night Fever, and her loss has brought her down so far that she can't even enjoy it when the actress chooses to party after the show in our suite. Nash missed it, of course. Part of me wonders if that's half the reason Cass is so distraught, but the rest of me is positive that she'd be even more distraught if her father had been there to watch her lose.

Leaving poor Donna Pascal in Nick's company, I find Cassidy on the balcony, sulking. Of course. But I guess seventeen-year-olds are entitled to sulking privileges. Give it a few more years and everyone's just going to tell her to suck it up. We're both quiet for awhile, as I think of what the hell I can offer her to get her out of this funk. My first instinct is a dessert buffet, but she's already been complaining to everyone in San Francisco that it's my fault she's gained five pounds. As if I force my desserts down her throat or something. We could go up to Sonoma maybe, for a weekend. But what the hell would she do in wine country? Sonoma was the weapon Nash used to unleash on me whenever I got on his case for working so much. "Hey, hey, don't worry about it, I'll take you up to Sonoma next weekend." He never would, of course, but the mere proposition used to shut me up for awhile. And Cass is too old for Disneyland. I assume.

With a sigh, I sit down beside her sloaching frame and slip an arm around her shoulders. "Can't win 'em all, kiddo." She glances over at me, totally unimpressed. "Uh, thanks, Mom."

Seventeen-year-olds are hard to cheer up. The only real solution, I have learned, is to wait until they finally forget about it. And they will forget about it.

Muse | Lisa Bridges
Fandom | Nash Bridges
Word Count | 340

TM - 282

2009-05-30T04:18:51Z

Lisa decides she wants a divorce on a Sunday. By Monday morning at 10am, she has her husband's sister representing her. "If that's not a victory in itself," she says. "I don't know what is."

Hiring Stacy Bridges as her divorce lawyer was about as simple as anything else. Stacy and Nash were known to have their differences, and often clashed on a large variety of issues. Their respective approaches to marriage and family was one of them. And as far as this case went, Stacy was on Lisa's side. They spent weeks working together, sorting things out. Lisa made a long, long list of what she wanted - consisting mostly of things she knew Nash would contest - and an even longer list of what her grievances were. The day the two sides came together to discuss the paperwork. Neither lawyer got a word in edgewise over the sparring soon-to-be former couple. But it was Nash who eventually gave in. The more he argued with her, the more her terms seemed reasonable.

Following the meeting, Stacy made the mistake of taking Lisa to a bar. Lisa had never been much of a drinker - this was well-known amongst her circle of friends. Even in college, she had perpetually been the designated driver. Her friends, Nash included, always referred to her as their "drunk diary," because "the next day we can always open her up and find out what we did the night before." Lisa simply enjoyed the mocking that being the only sober one in the room allowed her to do. Mocking and, inevitably, leverage. Lisa had always been a very savvy woman.

But then AC/DC starts playing at the bar and before Lisa knows the difference, she's had more drinks than Stacy can count. And before Stacy can even try, they're outside the home of Joe and Inger Dominquez, which houses the couch Nash has been crashing on since Lisa kicked him out. Upon opening the door, Joe takes one look at Lisa and runs off to inform that his drunk soon-to-be ex-wife would like to see him. Stunned and marginally terrified at the prospect of a drunk Lisa, Nash reluctantly goes to the door, where Lisa promptly tells him that she never wants to see him again. "Uh huh," Nash replies, skeptically sizing her up.

"And furthermore," Lisa continues, her voice slurring madly. "Let it henceforth be known that when my time comes I would like to be cremated. Because I don't even want to give you the chance to come visit me."

The next morning, she wrote him a letter professing her love. And never sent it.

Muse | Lisa Bridges
Fandom | Nash Bridges
Word Count | 406

muses_w_remotes | This is not my life

2009-04-27T02:33:29Z

She spends her night at home, waiting for him. Cassidy's in bed before nine, and Lisa is left with nothing but the evening news and an old romance novel she's read at least fifteen times. At least twice an hour she thinks about calling the station, but it's no use. "Baby, I'll be home as soon as I can, I promise." She takes him more seriously when he doesn't promise her anything. Making a promise is like overcompensating to her. He should mean what he says without having to throw in that little addendum at the end.

Still, she always waits up. When her eyes grow weary of the book and she can't bear to watch more footage of downtown shootings - knowing that in all probability, that's exactly where Nash is - she goes into the kitchen. For a long time, on these nights, she ate. She ate anything and everything, just to have something to do with her hands. Lately she's taken to cooking instead. Baking. She had always been skilled in the kitchen, but never had time to explore that skill before preparing the three meals of the day. Even if now she was a sad, lonely, worried wife of a cop, at least she was being productive. And productivity was key.

But there are nights, moments when she's positively bowled over by what her life has come. A young, vibrant, woman. Beautiful, smart, witty. Married to a man she loves, but hardly ever sees. A man she hardly even has the energy to argue with anymore. And with that gone...

Every night Lisa absently licks the batter off the spoon and wonders what she's doing. And how she can get out.

Muse |Lisa Bridges
Fandom | Nash Bridges
Word Count | 285

nash_vortex @ 2009-04-26T20:17:00

2009-04-27T01:17:47Z

My teenage daughter hates every man I bring home. And loves every woman her father brings home.

...Is this normal?

nash_vortex @ 2009-04-15T19:35:00

2009-04-16T00:35:36Z

Does flirting do that much harm?

couples_therapy - Flirt

2009-04-16T00:29:26Z

My ex-husband and I are both flitrts. We were even when we met. That's how we met. If Nash and I hadn't both been unabashed flirts, we never would have even crossed paths. He likes the attention of a beautiful woman, I like the attention of the handsome man. And we're both attractive people, so attractive people were bound to approach us. And we were both always powerless in that kind of situation. And inevitably, when one of us would flirt, the other would inevitably find out. And inevitably there would be a screaming, crushing, massive fight. Which was always too bad for poor Cassidy. But for years, there was no way around it. Nash and I were far too stubborn to realize the pattern. And the fighting almost always led to sex, so neither of us were ever inclined to complain about it. The cycle was vicious.

Nine years after our divorce, flirting is still our downfall. He still can't stand to see me flirt with another man, or to see another man flirt with me. I still get angry with I see him with another woman. To be honest, things really haven't changed that much.

Muse | Lisa Bridges
Fandom | Nash Bridges
Word Count | 199

TM - 278 - What are you wearing?

2009-04-13T03:52:39Z

Her latest was James Whitaker, and she had met him at a costume party. He had been dressed as a cop, though he looked more like a member of the Village People - or so Lisa remarked to a friend as he approached her. "Sorry," she had said with a dismissive hand wave and a facetious smirk. "I was married to a cop for twelve years. I don't find it very attractive." But he had kept one eye on her the rest of the night. The next morning, she got a call. His name was James Whitaker and he was an investment banker. Not a cop. An investment banker-not cop who couldn't stop thinking about her. He was smart, successive, overwhelmingly handsome, and exactly the type of man she wanted her ex-husband to see her with.

She had been dating him casually for about two weeks when he left for a brief business trip down to San Diego. He called her on the second night, sometime after eleven. They kept the conversation clean for about as long as they could, until suddenly they were finding unwitting sexual innuendo hidden in every other phrase.

"What are you wearing?"

Before Lisa even had time to blush, she heard a click. Her eyes widened and she jumped out of bed, calling out Cassidy's name. Holding the phone at her side, her angry footsteps traveled from room to room, her search yielding zero results. It was then that she remembered Cassidy had gone to study with a friend, and there was no one else in the house. Bringing the phone back up to her ear, she apologized to James, who was waiting on the other line thoroughly baffled. Halfway through her apology, she heard sirens and caught a glimpse of familiar red lights flashing through the window. And then the doorbell rang. She dropped the phone down to her side again and ran into the foyer, flinging open the front door wearing only her bathrobe.

"Nash!"

Grinning cunningly back at her was her ex-husband, his partner Joe Dominguez waving at her from the passenger seat of his signature yellow Barracuda. "Give me the phone, Lisa," Nash demanded, holding his hand out. "I'd like to do the honors of hanging up on Mr. What-Are-You-Wearing."

Lisa's jaw dropped, her cheeks flushed in anger. "You were tapping my phone?!"

Nash laughed. "Hell no, I got better things to do, sister," he replied, tilting his head back to one of the police cars parked beside the 'Cuda. "I had Evan do it." The young cop in question stuck his head out at window to grin sheepishly at Lisa, who could only stare back at him in disbelief. "So, come on. Hand it over."

Lisa took a step back into the house, her entire face turning bright red as she clenched her jaw, practically shaking with rage. From the passenger seat of the 'Cuda, Joe's radar went off. "Uh, Nash. Buddy, you might want to, uh..."

Just as Nash turned his head to look back at his best friend, Lisa hurled the telephone full speed at his head. Nash recoiled, crying out in pain as Joe let out a sigh. "...Back away."

And with the phone laying in pieces on the concrete and Nash rubbing what would soon be a massive goose egg, Lisa turned on her heel and slammed the door. Nash stood stationary for a few seconds, looking up with surprise when Lisa flung open the door again. Without a word, she untied her bathrobe and pushed it off her shoulders, leaving her in only two pieces of lace lingerie. "There," she said, placing her head on her hips triumphantly as she felt at least ten pairs of eyes burn into her. "Now half your squad knows exactly what I'm wearing."

With that, she turned on her heel once more, slamming the door with finality. Slowly, Nash turned around to face his team, who were sporting large, goofy grins. He shook his head in frustration as he headed back toward the car. "So help me god if just one of you say one word about my wife..."

He toppled into the driver's seat, pulling the door shut with force as he turned the key in ignition. Joe glanced over at him skeptically. "Ex."

"What?"

"Ex-wife."

Nash let out a heavy, distracted sigh, pulling out into the street. "Yeah."

Muse | Lisa Bridges
Fandom | Nash Bridges
Word Count | 732

nash_vortex @ 2009-04-02T11:56:00

2009-04-02T16:56:10Z

Kids hate parents getting Facebook, right?

TM - 272 - Retrospect

2009-03-31T02:55:29Z

"That's why I write, because life never works except in retrospect. You can't control life, at least you can control your version." - Chuck Palahniuk

Lisa Bridges has always had control issues. It was one of the reasons she couldn’t live with Nash. He was always so far out of her reach, so motivated by things she didn’t understand, so enthralled by things she couldn’t see.

Sometime after their fifth anniversary, Lisa began keeping a journal of everything he did that irritated her, mistakenly believing that if she could unleash her frustrations through written words, it would keep her from exploding. She discontinued this practice after about four months, having realizing that writing is down only gave her the opportunity to focus on her frustrations, and to exacerbate them all out of proportion.

A week before their divorce, years and years later, she handed him the journal. Without a word of explanation. He had it sent back the very next day, courtesy of one of his lower officers, with a note attached.

Lisa –

You know none of this actually happened, right?

Formerly yours,
Nash

…She’s pretty sure it did though.

Muse | Lisa Bridges
Fandom| Nash Bridges
Word Count | 165

TM - 272 - Do you have any pets?

2009-03-20T19:18:48Z

Well, I have a daughter, so yes. In the last sixteen years, we’ve had goldfish, sea monkeys, hamsters, guinea pigs, and for awhile when she was six, she hid a pet caterpillar from us. Said caterpillar blew its cover and revealed itself one morning in the medicine cabinet and met its fate when Nash threw it out the window. Cassidy cried for an hour, then found herself a kitten in the window of a pet shop downtown. Kids are pretty resilient that way. Then again, sometimes Cass is just as much a pet as she is a kid. Her dad doesn’t call her “brat” for nothing.

Speaking of Cassidy’s dad, there’s yet another pet. My jerk of an ex-husband, always hanging around, relying on me for meals and the occasional advising session. God knows why he comes to me for advice, what the hell do I know about drug dealers and prostitutes? Jeez.

And there’s there’s Nash’s dad, my former father-in-law, who doesn’t quite grasp the concept of “divorce.” Nick is just a sweet old man with Alzheimer’s – a total rascal like his son, but a good guy. I guess they both are. But it’s tough to realize it when you feel like you’re always bailing them out of trouble.

Thank god Cassidy’s grown out of the whole pet phase. I’ve got enough on my plate.

Muse | Lisa Bridges
Fandom | Nash Bridges
Word Count | 226

nash_vortex @ 2009-03-17T21:34:00

2009-03-18T02:34:15Z

Sixteen-year-old daughter plastered naked on billboards. ~~To ground or not to ground?~~

justprompts - Ten things a lover should know before getting involved with you

2009-03-17T17:40:32Z

1. I have a sixteen-year-old daughter.
2. If I catch you looking at my sixteen-year-old daughter sideways, I’ll have you arrested. And I can. Here’s why.
3. My ex-husband is chief inspector of the special investigations unit of San Francisco police.
4. Within moments of finding out about you, said ex-husband will do a thorough background check and nail you for anything he can possibly find. It’s happened.
5. I’m a chef, specializing in desserts. Don’t date me if you’re on a diet. You will be powerless against my whiskey caramel cake.
6. I don’t do long-term relationships. I’ll be honest. Divorced or not, I’ll always be married to my ex-husband.
7. I’m a college-educated woman who was married to a cop for nearly ten years. So don’t try to dupe me. I know the game, and I’ll play it better than you.
8. My former father-in-law has Alzheimer’s, and has been known to stay with us on occasion. He has a tendency to enter bedrooms unannounced.
9. I’m a redhead. And I embrace all the stereotypes.
10. You should know that if you think you can handle all of these things, and you do decide to get involved with me? You won’t forget me anytime soon.

nash_vortex @ 2009-03-16T19:54:00

2009-03-17T00:54:41Z

Never dating an artist again.

Probably.

nash_vortex @ 2009-03-15T13:41:00

2009-03-15T18:41:33Z

Are all cops incapable of punctuality? ~~Among other things.~~