Getting a settlement is handy. Since Jake owns a company, since the company is lucrative, since we were married for 10 years, and since he's not an asshole, mine is a decent one. More than decent, really. Because giving me what we determined is "my share" all at once would effectively close his company down, our arrangement is spread over the next five years.

This means that I can afford to stay in San Francisco. This means that I have some money to invest against the day the payments stop. This means I don't have to panic about money for the next little bit.

This also means that he and I are tied for the next five years.

I didn't want any money from him when we split. It felt wrong, somehow. It felt icky. I didn't want the tie. I'm rational enough to take it, but we're still in a relationship this way. This necessitates communication. There's a monthly reminder. It's a connection I don't like having.

Sometimes I wonder if the complete and absolute freedom would be worth it. But this money means that I am having a far, far, far easier time of it than other women in the same situation. With all I have to worry about, paying my bills is not, for the moment, one of them. So I feel enormously guilty for the bad feelings I have.

How do I not feel guilty for resenting this? How do I accept this help while hating the ties it makes and keeps?

I have trouble understanding how the law and relationships mix. In Quebec (my home province), couples form and dissolve, most often without a marriage to seal the deal. Common-law relationships are the way to go in La Belle Province.

I asked a friend of mine from Nevada about her divorce. "You have to go to court and the judge tells you whether you can divorce or not."

Wait a second. A judge, someone who has no idea who you are, what your troubles are or who your partner is, decides whether you have to continue a marriage you don't want to? This makes no sense to me.

Dividing assets, I understand. Someone has to decide who gets the car or the kitchen table, and it's tough to make decisions like that when you're angry.

Child custody, I get. It's important that children stay where they want to and where they need to be with a person that can take care of them properly. And in separations, kids are often jammed in the middle between two parents who fight over custody like vicious dogs.

But some person who doesn't know you should have no right to decide who you have to live with and be joined to. The law and relationships don't mix.

A judge isn't going to be able to make your partner be nicer to you. A court of law can't make you feel whole or repair hurt feelings. It makes no sense to force a person who doesn't want to be with someone else to continue a farce.

I have no idea if the law in Quebec says the same — that a judge must approve the breakup. Perhaps that's the rule, and if so, it's no wonder why people simply don't get married. You can't force love. Paper doesn't make it happen.

If you want out, you should have the right to get out. Period. And if you want someone to stay, and they don't want to, then you have no right to force them to remain in a place they don't want to be.

I have been holding back on showing everyone this, mostly because I used to be so thoroughly disgusted and humiliated by it. But today, I looked at it, and actually laughed.

That's when I decided to share it. I mean, who here doesn't need a good laugh, right? Here are the highlights:

He created this in October of 2006. I gave birth to our son in December of 2006. Nice guy, huh?

Okay, on with the laughs. For starters, I can't help but find it utterly hysterical, and somewhat pathetic that he chose the name Sexybeast0007. He could have done without the sexy, I will agree with him on the beast part, though. Next, he claims to be 39, yet he was 41 at the time; but then under the question "The best or worst lie I've ever told" he writes: I never lie.

Laugh on.

The fact that he says that he's single, and has brown hair, is notable, too, especially since he's bald — totally bald. Maybe his hair used to be brown? I guess that's up to his "lucky lady" to figure out.

The fact that he fails to mention that he has two children is disgusting.

Under "Why you should get to know me," you will truly understand, once and for all, what a narcissist this man is. In a paragraph of 30 words or less, I think he calls himself sexy and successful at least three times.

If after you've read all of this, and you've decided you have to date him, but you're upset because he calls himself "picky but worth it," have no fear: it appears that he doesn't have any real requirements for a woman...she just has to be between 22 and 35.

What a loser.

I'm bringing this to court with me. (I have the old version, where his picture was still up.) Mostly to prove that he considers himself to be a successful music and film agent, but also because he admits to using recreational drugs.

Yup, sometimes Levi is a giant moron. Laugh on.

I always liked my maiden name. It's sassy. It's memorable. It's fun to say and festive to spell. Jake's last name, not so sassy. Not so festive. Kind of an old-lady-teacher name, actually. Not horrible, just ... clumsy. I wasn't a fan. But I got married at 22 and didn't care back then.

Now that we're divorcing, I'm taking my name back. And no other part of this divorce process has been as tedious.

This in-between stage I'm in, it's confusing. We're not legally divorced yet, so my name isn't legally changed. I use my maiden name for writing, my Web site, my business cards — everywhere I can get away with it. But my bank account, my ID — they're all still under my married name. My colleagues and students know me as my maiden name, but I am paid under my married name. Human Resources is constantly perplexed.

I get confused, sometimes, trying to remember who knows me as what. I don't know which name to cite at the club door or the vet's office. I had to explain on all my rental applications that I'm legally one name, but to ask for a different one when verifying my employment. When Mike flew me out for a wedding, he had to get my ticket under my married name, which felt vaguely uncomfortable and definitely strange.

I carry a list of all the institutions and publications and departments I will have to contact and fax and possibly visit in person to change my name once I am legally able to do so. There are a lot of them, but finally closing this process will be fabulous.

Meanwhile, I have another couple of months to live in this strange little half-state.

Round two of the depositions is over. Stakes are set pretty high for both attorneys. At the end of our conversation, my attorney, while walking to our respective cars, said I really needed to realistically think about what I could be okay living with if this case were to settle.

At first, I was alarmed, thinking, "Oh, no," that she felt this was our only option, however she quickly quelled that fear, and went on to say that she didn't think we wouldn't win if we went to trial, just that it would be very expensive, and that she realized I wasn't in the position to fork over a ton of money, and that, ultimately, she would do what I needed her to.

However, as a mother, I know what she meant by thinking realistically about what I could and could not live with.

So, here I am, at the drawing board, thinking of hypothetical situations that I really don't want to consider. But, I'm putting myself in the shoes of my boys, ages five and seven, and considering their needs.

My parents weren't around for me. They'd passed on when I was five, and I know that having two parents around is more beneficial than having one. I'd like to think I'll make a very good decision.

It just hurts to know that it isn't my wants, or what I'd dreamed of in terms of what I expected for my own family. But, I am respectful enough of my boys to know that this is a huge decision that will affect them for their entire lives, so I don't want to feel guilty and accountable for making a wrong one.

Well, the first round of depositions went better than I could have expected. I was nervous, but confident in my ability to answer the questions that were thrown at me. I was able to organize my thoughts and answer decisively. The questions presented to me lasted about five hours. It was gruelling, and I didn't want to be there, but I understand this is an important stage in the divorce proceedings. My ex is fighting for custody, and has prepared a smear campaign against me.

Because my deposition went long, my attorney didn't have a chance to finish her questioning, but the questions she was able to ask gave everyone involved insight on how to proceed further with this case. Basically, my ex lied during the deposition, under oath. He's claiming that I'm a number of things, including obese, a lesbian, bi-polar, addicted to drugs and alcohol, as well as a poor parenting figure. I'm sure I've forgotten something in there, but it's pretty laughable.

He was not adequately coached for his deposition as I was. He not only shared more information than was required in answering a question, but he rambled and tried to validate all of his answers almost proving his warped sense of perception. I'm now eager to find out what else he is going to say in the following portion of his deposition, especially if he is going to continue to condemn himself in this fashion.

We do have psychiatric evaluations pending because of the allegations both of us claim against each other. I'm pretty sure mine is going to be fine — but his is questionable.

Anyone else have experience with psych evaluations?

Last week, I had to sit in my attorney's office and watch a short video about my upcoming deposition. People who don't know me very well often think I'm quite shy, but in reality I'm more reserved. I open up easily when I get to know people better and especially if they make it a point to approach me first in a friendly manner.

Now, I don't like confrontation. This is something I've learned about myself . While it seems quite simple in nature, with my abusive relationship I was constantly confronted. I was never able to just say "I don't like being approached this way".

I know that this deposition is going to be very confrontational. I'm sure it won't be in my face or gruesome, but since this is what is often depicted on television and in movies this is the picture that I have in my mind of what I have to look forward to.

I'm prepared for odd questions. I am prepared to take a deep breath before I say anything. I am prepared to provide minimal information and not provide information that wasn't asked for. This is going to be hard for me as I have a lot to say, but I know I won't have the opportunity to share "the whole truth" at this deposition.

I'm nervous too about what sort of questions they will be asking me. I'll work on picturing a nice beach scene in my mind, as they ask me questions. Hopefully that will keep my spirit relaxed so I can answer with confidence. Think it will work?

I have calculated that since the time my ex and I separated, back in July, that I have accumulated over $10,000 worth of attorney's expenses. So, that averages to $1,666 per month, which sadly enough is very close to my individual take-home salary.

My case isn't going to end quickly. Because there is a child custody dispute issue, my trial might not even be until July of next year.

I'm a fairly financially savvy individual, and I'm feeling the pressure of the continued attorney bills that are going to come my way, through the process of an upcoming trial.

Not only is the accruing debt insurmountable, but I need to make some decisions in the interim about my home, job, and the expenses that are associated with both. I admit, I've not always been a financially fit gal. I sacrificed a lot of peace of mind that I wanted in life to support my husband's dream of everything bigger and better, and to make more and more money to have the "grass on the other side of the fence."

Wonder if he likes his grass now...

I certainly am not chipper about mine, but want to try and be a responsible person with the circumstances of this divorce so that I can piece my life back together and move on. It sucks to look at figures this way and say, my divorce is costing me over $1,000 a month — but I do know, that if I had stayed in my marriage, I would have lost a lot more than money. I have no regrets, just want to make some sound decisions.

How much has your divorce cost you?

Have you ever felt caught in whirlwind with no anchor in sight?

That's how I felt when I left my first partner. We had a child, a beautiful three-year-old girl full of charm and spirit. When the family separated, we fought long and hard over where she would live and who would be her main caregiver.

Of course, we each had our own opinion of what was best. We went to court and drained ourselves financially. We each hired vicious lawyers who loved the game of legal affairs to prove our case. We were assigned a judge who knew the game far too well and who didn't care.

We monitored conversations with each other. We kept records of phone calls and what had been said. We went to psychological testing to attempt to discount the other parent. We had our daughter tested too, in the hopes she'd affirm her choice. Mommy wanted the choice to be her and Daddy was cheering for himself.

When the money ran out, nearly a year later, we had very little to show. We had a signed agreement stamped by the courts that basically approved how we'd been arranging custody since we'd separated. Our daughter spent a week with me and a week with her father.

Fast forward two years. Dad and I got along just fine. Sure, we had some minor arguments, usually over petty things and usually fueled by the opinions of friends and family. But we did alright.

Another two years later, and my daughter decided she was tired of moving back and forth. She put her foot down and chose the house she liked best — or rather, the house that was more convenient for her needs. That suited me fine. Dad didn't care much either — he just wanted his daughter to be happy.

He now comes to visit twice a week. We're a little smarter, a little wiser. We're older and probably don't get such a rise from life any more. We have coffee and he chats with his daughter. He respects me and I respect him.

I feel tortured — bound, gagged, and waiting for another beating.

I'm emotionally exhausted. Every day, my ex does something new to harass me. I want this divorce to be over. I want to be left alone. I want to create new beginnings — but I'm stuck in the ever-growing punching bag of this divorce.

There are new allegations against me on a weekly basis — that I'm verbally abusive, unkind to my children, abusing drugs and alcohol — the list goes on. I believe this all to be a projection of his own issues, and I have proof that none of his claims are true, but he knows that this shit gets to me. He knows that I become irritated with threats to my integrity and moral character, which I'm proud of.

He continues to claim that I don't relay information to him. I've communicated to him that all information will go through our son's backpack in a sealed manila envelope — per my attorney's advice — yet he complains. I'm sorry, I'm not going to personally deliver anything to him — it's against my injunction.

He however, has no boundaries, and even though the injunction expresses he is to not come to the house, he's trying to exchange information "personally" through our mailbox. Not okay. I plan to file another police report and hopefully this time they will use it against him, especially since we have a status conference with our judge soon.

I refuse to continue to be trampled on any longer. I will stand up for myself.