One more, that's it.

Ok. I posted about my need for Saturday night ideas; and I just finished posting about the fact that OMG TONIGHT IT WILL BE ONE WEEK SINCE HE DUMPED ME, and I still don't have anything to do on my Saturday nights.

However, I was thinking, I need to one more post about it, and that's it. One more to get it off my chest, and I can get some closure type crap and move on and possibly even take up my Fantapants Adventure FOR REALS again.

And it will be...what happened the night of 24th March 2007. From my perspective only, of course. But feel free to comment and tell me I was a dickhead and you would have done exactly the same thing, or that he was a dickhead, etc. I don't mind if you don't agree with me; I'm not trying to win a popularity contest and if anything, if I was in the wrong, it will help point it out to me so I can learn for next time. I've told some friends and a few people at work this story, but sometimes RL people are not as objective...

****

Preface: For the last few weeks I'd been feeling down. Four main reasons:
* I've put on too much weight, and just feeling crap about myself
* Worrying about my financial status, in particular, how I was going to afford to go to Europe with The Boy later this year
* My Best Friend (despite her shortcomings) is moving back up to QLD again
* Worrying about my social life in general (or rather, lack of).

Now, regular readers would be aware of most of these points at some stage. I have my down moments, normally I'll post on here, and then the next day, I'm back up and I don't care. Generally, I'm 95% Fuck You, to other people, and 5% no self esteem. Not a bad ratio, but it does mean that I have my 'down' days.

Throw into the mix that I've been flat out with work lately, and also The Boy went away to Far North Queensland for a week without me. So I was feeling kinda shit.

This is how it went down:

Thursday Night 22nd March
I had a massage, and talked to my therapist, and was feeling unhappy, but relieved to have spoken to someone about the above. The Boy text me, and I ended up telling him that I was unhappy, and then ended up telling him why. He promised to give me a "big hug for as long as I wanted" and we could talk the next night. Feeling much more buoyed.

Friday 23rd March
Feeling excellent; work was good, going out for drinks after work; seeing The Boy tonight, and spending 3 nights with him! He picks me up from work, I am in considerably better mood. We get back to my house, and I want my hug, and to talk. But he wants to kiss me, etc, and well, I KNOW where that leads, and it's not like I don't want it too, I just want to talk first. End up going out for dinner, coming home, then having sex. No talking.

Saturday 24th March, Daytime
I'm getting my haircut; it takes four and a half hours. I feel terrible, because The Boy is at my house by himself. Insist that he cooks himself some party pies, etc in the fridge for lunch and not to wait for me, but he does wait. On my way home from massive hair cut, I get some KFC. Just some chips and a drink for me, but he pigs out. Ok.

Spend rest of afternoon, until about 6pm, in bed.

Saturday 24th March, Night-time
The plan is that we will drive up to his house, where I spend Sat & Sunday nights, and he'll drive me to trainstation on Monday morning (he's still on holidays). So we get ready, I pack my bags, and we go. The question of dinner comes up.
I'm more than happy to just grab something on the way, but he is insistant that we go out. He's not hungry at all though. We end up at Doncaster TGI's, but there's a 20 minute wait. I left it to him where we go, although he doesn't just want to grab something because he's sick of junkfood, because he's not the hungry one. We end up at a pub somewhere in Preston.

I'm pretty hungry at this stage, so I want to order a meal. He wants to order...bruschetta. This is where my kinda-fragile-at-the-moment-self esteem kicks in. There's no way I can sit and eat a Chicken Parma or the like, while he has a piece of bread.
A) - the idea of me sitting there eating all that food while he eats hardly anything, makes me feel physically ill, and validates my thoughts that I am just a fat, shovelling food...person (you get the idea).
B) - people sitting around us will see what we're eating and 'tsk tsk' and believe it's typical of a fat, shovelling food person like me to be eating so much.
And for someone that has put up with nasty comments all her life, the second one is always a possibility.

However, totally irrational, I know. But with the way I had been feeling, not entirely avoidible.

Now. Dinner comes out. I upset myself even more. I ended up ordering the Gnocchi, but even that is huge compared to some bread. I eat, we eat, almost silently (NB - Keep in mind that I'm not pissed off with him, just upset at myself), and yes, there are tears in my eyes. I feel disgusting.

I manage to eat half, but he's finished, and I don't want to keep eating. It's like the dessert conumdrum, where one person wants it, but the other doesn't, so the one who wants it misses out. The lady takes my plate away.

The Boy cracks it "I'm pissed off now" and motions to go. I go down to cashier to pay, and I'm pulling out my EFTPOS card, and the girl is just about to take it, when he whips out some cash, and shoves it in front of her face. Great scene, girl with tears in her eyes, and boy with pissed off, smug expression on his face. If it wasn't for the smug expression, I wouldn't have gotten pissed off right then (I don't care about paying). As it was, he walked out of the pub 5 steps ahead of me, and we got in the car.

Him (pissed off): "What are we going to do now?"
Me (pissed off, not sad now): "Oh, just take me to the train station then"

And with that, he puts the super-dooper fast car into action, and starts driving me home.

Conversation ( I'll try not to bore you further) ensues; He's taking me home; that's it, it's over; no, he doesn't want to talk about it, it's over. For my part, I'm asking him if we can talk about it; to stop the car and go back to his house; and saying 'please' a lot.

He calls my scene at the pub, a 'freakshow'. He's not going to have that sort of drama in his life. He says I shouldn't be worried about what other people think of me; my other reasons for being upset are stupid as well.

I ask can we sort it out, and he replies that I have to sort myself out. Which is true, but I'm not asking him to solve my problems, only to be there for me.

Which is the only part that I get pissed off about. I know I was an arsehole, and I know I have to sort myself out, but isn't the whole idea of being in a relationship being there for the other person when they're not 24/7 happy? I think that's how he thinks it should have been. For the first time (and yes, this is the first time this has ever happened), I've been less than my normally cheery, sarcastic self, and he 'doesn't like what he sees'.

Of course, it's okay for him to not want to see me for a weekend, because he's feeling down, and needs to be by himself. I could have done that too, but I geniunely was happy to see him. Of course, it's okay for him to abandon me for a weekend so he can play a FUCKING VIDEO GAME all weekend, and do housework. And naturally, it's okay that he didn't want to see me at on Christmas Day because of his mum, etc, etc, etc, etc, etc, etc, etc, etc ETC FUCKING ETC.

Ahem. Anyway. We get to my house; he drives up my drive way, gets out, gets my bags out of the car, gives me my keys, goes to kiss me on the cheek, and says "I've had fun in the last two years", then goes back to his car.

Like the fool that I am, I try to hold him, and ask him to come inside so we can talk. But he pushes me away and says "This is the last time you'll ever see me", gets in his car, "If you're so worried about what people think of you, why aren't you worried now?", and drives away.

****

And that's it. Nothing more after that. I've resisted temptation to text him, as badly as I want to, I've resisted the temptation to email him. I won't chuck his stuff yet, just in case he does want it back. (NB - it's going after a couple of weeks).

I know that I haven't been a bitch. I know that I haven't wronged him, or treated him badly. I know it can probably be exasperating to hear someone with no self confidence, which is basically what he intimated. But I'm not like that all of the time, so I'm kinda at a loss as to why it was a 'breaking up point'. It kinda pisses me off too, because if this was a reason to break up, I had so many more legit reasons to do it, but NO, I'm the sucker who generally tries to understand the other person & their reasons, and because I'm easy going, I generally get over it.

WELL NOT ANY FUCKING MORE.

The guys at work reckon it was a heat of the moment thing; they reckon once he cools down, and realises that I'm not begginng him to take me back, etc, then he will contact me. But I don't think so; he's not a dramaticist, not a romanticist, not an emotional. An excellent analogy, again by my brother, is that our relationship is like a computer program; he will just delete it from his hard drive, and won't give another thought to it again.

And anyway, if he doesn't contact me again, I won't know what to do.

Saturday morning blues

Holy Fuck. The countdown is on tonight, approximately 8pm, where it will be ONE WHOLE WEEK since I was dumped. Yay. And what will I be doing at 8pm tonight? Fucking nothing. And what will he be doing? Attending a wedding that we were both meant to go to, where we could have dressed up and slow danced and I wouldn't be feeling this pain that I'm feeling now.

That's not to say that I begrudge him from attending; they are his mates and of course he should attend. I'm just sad that we won't be together.

YES. I am sad. For as much as I used to be frustrated with it all, I was so comfortable, and so happy when I was with him, that it used to outweigh the fact we hardly ever saw each other, or, when he didn't want to see me at Christmas. Blah. And thinking about it now, I couldn't possibly bear to go through all of that awkward stage again with someone else, just to see if I was comfortable with them.

But my brother was pretty good; we were having a chat when I was down the other day, and I mentioned this to him. This was the text message that I got back from him:

"The reward of having someone that actually respects you far outweights going thru the awkward stage, you know that"

And when my brother speaks, I shall listen. So I saved that text message and look at it when I'm down (as opposed to going after work with my new, gay, BFF boys and drinking vodka sunrises until I'm nearly passing out on the train).

And writing this post was carthartic too, because now that I have finished writing, it only steels my determination to stop being upset over the break up, and move on, the bigger and better person.

Only, IT STILL DOESN'T HELP WITH WHAT I'M GOING TO DO TONIGHT (SEE PREVIOUS POST)! I REFUSE TO BE DOING NOTHING AT 8PM.

I might go for a run.

Saturday Night Fever

Alright, what's happened has happened, and in the grand scheme of everything, it doesn't really matter. No one's died, I'm healthy, people get over heartbreak all the time.

SO. In the grand scheme of everything, my idea of getting over it, is to busy myself. Take the days that we spent together, and do interesting and fun activities to compensate. Which shouldn't be hard, considering we only spent Saturday nights & Sunday afternoons together.

Weekdays are easy. Staying back at work; trivia night every now & then; dinner with the olds; dinner with friends; cleaning; catching up on tv. Pretty much sorted then. NB - I plan to throw A LOT MORE exercising into the mix; I've seen the light, and agree with The Boy. The only person that can make me feel happy about myself, is myself.

Saturdays are a classic sleep in, Saturday arvos for cleaning or shopping. Sundays are much the same, I can't begin to tell you how much I'm looking forward to catching up with some reading.

However. My BugBear.

Saturday Nights

I mean, what in god's name do people do on a Saturday night? Most of my friends are married with kids, or about to move back to Brisbane, or something as equally non single-life-esque.

Saturday nights are all about going out to parties, or pubs, and drinking with your mates, and checking out the talent. Where the hell are all the activities? Why can't I go to a Boxercise class on a Saturday night? What the fuck is available for single, lonely people, that don't want to attend 'Singles House Parties, Dress to Impress, no denim'? Is there a secret list somewhere that someone would like to share? Or any ideas?

I want to do things, I want to meet new people, ,I need to be distracted, and I certainly don't want to hide my fabulous new haircut (Four hours & $205 later, I need to get my money's worth).

NB - It's been 5 days, and only two pieces of Chocolate. Go me.

So. Saturday nights. Ideas. For the good of my health.

A reference guide

Erm, it's late on a Sunday night, and I really should be getting to sleep. I'm running on 4 hours - it's ok, I was just blind drunk, not lying awake thinking about fuckheads all night. And while I'm at it, I must apologise for that slightly aggressive post from 4am this morning. After 'It' all happened, I rang my best friend and we went out, and I got shitfaced, and ahem, picked up. Well, basically I pashed a guy until the lights came back on, then I went and hid in the toilets so he didn't have the whole 'I'm coming home with you' deal. Some random face sucking was enough to massage my bruised ego for the night.

Anyway, I will write a proper post on this at some stage; I probably won't go into detail with what happened. Needless to say that it was quick, unexpected, I was stupid, he was a bastard and I've learnt my lessons. And YES!!! I echo Flashman's sentiments from the previous comments that I should have gotten in first. I'm MIGHTY pissed off that I didn't (FUCKING LOVE HINDSIGHT, DON'T WE?), but has everyone has rightly pointed out to me today, it's what I wanted in the long run, but just not how I wanted it to be done.

So this post is just going to be a list. A list that I can refer back to if I'm feeling a bit down, or getting itchy SMS fingers. My list is called:

Reasons why I'm better off without the Jerk

* He didn't treat me properly (See Christmas, 2006 and other assorted blog posts).
* He's such a mummy's boy, and that will never change.
* I was low on the list of his priorities.
* In two years, he'd never once said he loved me.
* I won't have to drive to the Greensborough area anymore.
* I can change the title of this blog.
* I don't have to drive around in a WRX with personalised number plates anymore.
* My new couch is all mine.
* I don't have to sleep in horrible bed anymore.
* I won't bore anyone with my lame posts about the shit going down between us.
* He was a cold, cold person, and could never speak about something face to face.
* He was such a tight arse.
* I can go out and not feel bad/guilty for drinking.
* I don't have to buy 'fat' coke again.
* I don't have to deal with someone that wears fucking basketball shorts everywhere.
* I can save some money.
* He never once said he loved me.
* I'm sure there are much much more, but I'm really tired and I need to sleep (EYES ARE SO PUFFY)

If you can think of any, let me know.

Also, what to do with his stuff...do I just put it in the bin? Last night after he dropped me off, he said "This is the last time you'll ever see me", and gave me back my keys, so I'm assuming that he doesn't want his aftershave, or his pj pants, or his nice (and expensive) grey jumper, or his expensive duck down pillows. What should I do? If I chuck them, and he asks for them, I'll look childish. But if I keep them, they will remind me of him, and I'm starting afresh. Please advise.

ALL OVER

Well I Guess everyone got their wish, Cockface of a Boyfriend Dumped me tonight, and even though I went out drinking wiht my best friend aftwewards I stil got homw and now I am sad.

he siad:

"You are never going to see me again"


I am sorry I was upset at the Olympic Hotel in fucking Preston. I have been upset for a while.. I'm sorry I made you pissed off at me. Fuck you, for taking me home, and giving me back my house keys. I empytied all of you toothepast in eth sink. and you hair gel and I'm going to rip up you fucking pj pants untile ther'es nothing ele to rip tup..


I HOPE EVERYONE IS HAPPY NOW. I AM COMPLETELY ALONE> COMEPLETELYL>.

The likely suspects...

Focusing elsewhere, focusing elsewhere. Taking my mind off things. Relax. Deep Breath. Enny had a great idea, do you reckon I can get my Dad to dump him by proxy? (Also, Hack, you are right).

More pictures of fucking ice, hey?!





NOTE: Possible 2007 Big Brother Friday Night Games Apparatus

If anyone decides to ever have a text message conversation with me again, ever, I will seriously kill them with the very phone their messages are coming from.

*Cries*

Self Portrait



BRING BACK THE ICE

Cold.

What makes the Antartic, and the Artic, so cold? Colder than anywhere else on Earth. Or at least icy-er. Why do those particular spots, at the top, and the bottom of the earth, get to be the coldest? I don't like it one little bit.

Also. How come we just don't get one of those big fuck off icebergs and put it in the Thompson damn - so we can at least have more than 60 days of water left? We could tow one to shore, then chop it up into manageable bits, and drop it in.

Look, I'm not a logistical planner, okay.

Another Journal Entry

Okay, I pissed him off with my 'cold' text messages, and ruined his holidays, now he won't talk (message me) to me and while it's hurting my chest now, I'm secretly hoping he dumps me SO I CAN GET RID OF THIS FUCKHEAD FOR GOOD.

I was trying hard to stay really cool about it (him going away), but I guess whenever I've replied to his text messages, I've sounded somewhat bitchy.

At first, I was pissed off, because when he asked me to go, and I said I couldn't afford it, I thought he might have paid for my accomodation, and I could have paid for my airfaires. Easy. But really, stupid thing to think, so can't justify being pissed off about it.

Now I just realise that it pisses me off, that as a 28 year old man, he is quite happy just to go away with his 25 year old brother, and his parents, for a holiday. And have fun. And not even worry about me, or say he is going to miss me. He is more than happy to do this. It really should come at no surprise, considering he is more than happy to cut short our Sundays together, so he can get home by 6pm to have dinner at his parents' house, EVEN THOUGH HE HAS DINNER WITH THEM EVERY FUCKING OTHER DAY OF THE WEEK.

***

So, considering I'm a bit twisty in the heart this morning, I had left over mexican and cookies & cream ice-cream for breakfast. Now, I am going to sit on my new couch, and get some work (real) done. And decide if I can be bothered going out tonight. I hate going out of the house now. I am a hermit.

Lame post about being f*cked over by stupid boyfriend again.

I feel sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick

Stupid boyfriend has gone on a holiday without meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

There's nothing s'prising about that I guess. I should stop complaining because I only do it to myself.

How about I go out on Saturday night, get totally liquored up, and find the man of my dreams?

I totally want to get home at 8am, after pashing the face some off the future Mr. Martie.

Seriously, I'd give up Career, I'd give up New Couch, I'd give up Microwave Popcorn, if I could only bloody find someone that respected me, had time for me, loved me.

There are some kilos to go until I have the confidence of going at it alone. And as much as my man-desperation goes, I'd much rather go it alone, because I'm just beginning to see what type of person I am, and form proper opinions and views, and IT'S EXCITING, DUDE!

I think they call it growing up.

I prefer to call it growing into myself.

But I would very much like someone to say that they loved me, just once. It's been over three years since someone said that to me, and apparently I've been in some sort of relationship for two of them.

Is this emo? Fuck, I hope not. This is just me having trouble expressing myself, because my stomach is doing somersaults, and has been since 7am this morning when his plane left.

I hate hearts. I like kissing much more.

A bit of cash, a bit of flash

I stayed up until 3am last night, putting my clothes away. You might think that's tragic, for a Friday night, but believe me, I had a lot of friggin' clothes to put away. My whole wardrobe basically sits on the washing line, in the washing hamper, in the washing machine, in the dryer, and on the couch and chairs. The actual wardrobe is pretty much bare.

Anyhow, I was happy. Well, not overly happy, because I didn't have any dinner, but I did get to watch Ocean's 12. Then I watched the Timber Community's finest hour; Demi Moore & Michael Douglas in Disclosure, then I happened to change channel and catch most of a movie called "Ghost in the Computer".

The basic premise was a serial killer that stole people's address books died, but when he was having an MRI, his 'soul' got left in the computer system, and he continued to terrorise his next victim though electronic things. IE - computers, dishwashers, etc. Don't you love how when computers were such a big deal, hopeful technology movies like this were made. I mean, for reals, a 'soul' stuck in a computer system, that is killing people? LAME.

However, being 3am in the morning, one's mind does begin to wander; IE - there is a serial killer in my courtyard; I'm too scared to turn the light out; I'm really fucking hungry, I wish I ate dinner. And what it did, was force me to take stock of all the potentially life threatening appliances that share my apartment with me.

Lights; phone; hairdryer; hair straightener (EWWW); fan; kettle; TV; dryer; blender (DOUBLE EWW). I wondered if I would have nightmares about all the appliances just walking towards me in a group. Don't let anyone tell you that electrical items are not dangerous - LISTEN TO THE WARNING KIDS.

As a pleasant aside from all the death and destruction in the movie , two kids paid their babysitter $37 to unbutton her shirt, so they could get a little boob action. One even put a cushion over his groin. They weren't that good.

My point is though, isn't that expensive? Change into Australian rates, and that's like $60 for a titty flash, not even out of the bra. I thought you could pay about $50 for the pleasure of snorting a line of cocaine off some chick's tits while you fucked her friend at Hosies'? Or is that just me?

So, that's quite good money, I don't think I'd be adverse to that at all. A bit of cash, a bit of flash, and we're done. No mess, no fuss, no unexplained sticky bits. Although a friend did point out to me that they could get it for free on a Saturday night when I'm out on the pull, so I'll just have to come up with some other get rich quick scheme.

Rub me the right way

And thus ends possibly the most sensual, and best sexed, weekends that I've ever had...

************************************************

Plenty to do this week! Lunch with clients tomorrow! Career planning seminar on Tuesday! Loooooooooong Luncheon on Thursday! New Couch to arrive on Saturday! Stuff to be done to car! More sex on weekend!

Actually, I shouldn't be punctuating with '!'. These are the marks of someone that is happy. I'm not. One of my close friends has a tumor on her inner ear. My best friend hasn't spoken to me for three weeks. My apartment is resembling a chinese laundry...there are clothes in the washing basket; there are clothes hanging from my fan; there are clothes on the washing line; there are clothes in the dryer; there are clothes all over my couch and chairs; there are clothes on my bedside table. I just couldn't be fucked putting them away.

I want to lounge of a beach somewhere until I feel good about myself again, then come back and kick ass.

However, if I wanted to cheat my way out of the mental energy this would take, I'd rub some sort of bottle and ask the genie:

1 - To weigh 77 kilos. I don't want to lose my body shape, just tone up the areas that I hate. Also, 7 is my favourite number. Double 7, and I'm blowing in my undies.

2 - To win a fortune in tattslotto. Enough to be able to pay for my mum & dad in retirement, make sizeable donations to animal shelters and charities, buy my brother and I houses, and live comfortably. So yeah, $33M should do nicely.

3 - This is a tough one. One more wish left. I've done the obvious, lose weight, more money, but where to go with this one. What would make me truly happy? Permanently tanned? Be able to speak French fluently? Maid to put washing away? No. I just want friends. I want mates that I can go for a drink with. Mates that I can go shopping with. Mates that will come over with a bottle of wine for a dinner party. Mates that will be there for me, and who I can be there for too.

Sounds sick and depressing, doesn't it? But a girl can't get by on good sex alone.