Alcohol required
I SWORE to myself that I would never turn my blog into Martie's love life disasters, and in particular, I would never post another thing about one fucktarded boy in particular, but...
It's Jungle-Boy's birthday tomorrow. I thought I would get him a nice present for his birthday. Yes, even after the dressing gown & store perfume incident. What can I say? I'm generous. I don't like to 'buy' people with my gifts, but I like to get them something that makes them feel special.
$250 bucks later. There's only one thing bugging me - what to do about his actual birthday. I KNOW that he will be going out for dinner, and I'm wondering if I will be invited.
It seems not.
Apparently, his mum has 'plans' for him. Pick him up from work, then they (his family) go out to dinner. Non-inclusive of me. I'm not invited. His family. Not me.
You would think, that after nearly 10 months together, that you would have done the whole 'meet the parents' thing. Especially since he lives right around the corner, and sees them nearly every day.
It seems not.
A relationship that he proports is 'serious', but obviously not serious enough for something like that. Fool, Martie.
I'm just about to the end of my tether. I do something nice, I get flippant/casual/rude in return. Yet, I'm not angry at him; I'm pissed with myself because I obviously have a serious lack of self-respect to be treated this way. And because I spent my grocery and petrol money on his motherfucking present.
*****UPDATE: This just through on MSN conversation:
Jungleboy: I've got plans for you when you get a job in city
Martie: Oh?
Jungleboy: Yeah. An apartment in the city!
Martie: Okay. I'm going to have to get a pretty bloody good job then.
Jungleboy: Who said it would be all you?
Jungleboy: I've always wanted to walk to work.
Martie: So, you'd want to get an apartment so you could walk to work? (*Not to move in with me, just so you could walk to work?* OH HOW I WISHED I'D ASKED THIS. WHAT A PUSSY)
Jungleboy: Yeah. But I'd need somewhere for my car and pc's and stuff. So I'd live at home on the weekends.
Martie: ???
/
I've not lived with someone before, but I'm sure the whole deal is meant to be more romantic than that.
My hand is literally covering my face right now, and as soon as I finish this post, the other one will be right there with it. I need a good, hard slapping, for a good, hard wake-up-to-myself.
8 comments:
I don't think it is you that needs the slap in the face..
Martie - get out while you still can! This isn't a relationship, it's a business transaction that includes the occasional screw! I'll slap you if you like, but I think we'd both get more satisfaction if one of us ripped his testes clean off and fed them to rabid rats.
Besides, I'm gunna need you to go hairy-man-hunting with, it's a lot more fun when you take one home too!
Two words, Martie: DUMP. HIM.
I've been drinking at lunch, but I didn't realise that you were still 'together'!
PS - Living at home on the weekends doesn't mean you've moved out, it means you're sponging for a convenient sleepover spot with benefitsfrom so you can sleep in on weekdays after a busy night and still get to work on time... Drop the frickin zero and get urself etc etc ;o)
Carlie - you get me hey? It's not much I'm pissed off with him, but the fact I let myself get treated this way. Utter bullshit. I wouldn't let it happen in any other facet of my life, so why some half-arsed relationship?
D - Oh yeah. Ask him how he spells oedipal.
Please explain.
TW - Oh but I do need a slap, to wake up to myself. I'm gonna go on one of your exiles, I think.
Kezza - Dude, I could be invited to dinner with Jonathan Brown, and I'd still be going hairy man hunting with you. Maybe my problem is that Jungleboy is hairy??
Hack - I am on the way. After this afternoon's developments, in which I actually grew some balls and questioned why I wasn't invited, he didn't even have the decency to come up with a good answer. I just want my best friend to be back when I do it.
Epen - Drinking at lunch? Bad girl. Oh, it's your BIRTHDAY? Carry on then. And yes, my first thoughts during that conversation were that he was sponging a convenient sleeping spot, not actually wanting to 'move in together'. Hmpph.
What else is there to say? I agree with the hack. Dump his sorry ass.
Apparently I have to get in line!!
Eww.
I should have looked it up in the first place.
But I don't think it's quite right. It's both the mother and father.
And he's 27
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