bridezilla - story part one

When your friend asks you to be her matron of honour you feel pretty pleased to be asked.

She (let's refer to her as M) lived interstate so I had to stay with her for a month until the wedding was over.  I packed up my stuff and flew over.  The first night I was there I was so happy to be sharing this occasion with her and meeting her fiance.  He was repairing the kitchen cupboard and she was telling him to leave it, she'd get her father to do it.  The fiance saying he was more than capable and fixing it anyway.  I remember sitting there wondering how long the peace would last.

It only took a week for the cracks to show.  My friend hadn't said a positive thing for the first week I was there, she didn't ask about me or others and only ever talked about herself.  She complained about ill health, her annoying work, how stressed she was, how no one was helping or doing anything with the wedding and leaving all the work to her.  Regular bridal stresses.  She also bagged and back stabbed everyone she knew.  Her fiance's family, his sisters, her brothers and sister in laws, her fiances friends (she didn't bag her own friends because she didn't have any).  I wondered how long she would go on like this, fearing that it was who she was and not just related to the stress of the wedding.

My first morning there her and fiance had left for work.  Looking for a morning coffee I found her coffee jar so old it was fury and coffee set like concrete.  I went up the street and purchased a fresh jar.  I also did the morning dishes and cleaned the baking dish she'd cooked our dinner in the previous night.  Cleaned it to the point of looking brand new.  Why am I mentioning these trivial matters?  Because she wasn't happy with me doing these things.  When she returned from work and saw the new coffee and spotlessly clean dish she told me I was to make myself and home and not to do anything.  If I needed anything like fresh coffee I should ask her and she'll bring some home for me.  My response was to say I don't mind, it was only a couple of dollars. 

After one week I took a break from helping with the wedding to go down south and stay with my bestie while I got my teeth cleaned and got a facial for the wedding.  I also visited my dad; I hadn't seen him in years.  9/11 happened this week and I was so thankful to be with my bestie at the time so we could comfort each other. I knew M would be no comfort to me.  In fact she never even mentioned 9/11.  Too absorbed in herself.  M called me while I was at my bestie's to ask me if she was the reason I'd gone away, also saying she hoped I hadn't said bad things about her to my dad that would make him not show up to her wedding.  I noted to myself it was interesting that she thought I was bagging her to my dad, the way she bagged others.  Of course I'd brought her up with my bestie however I'd been nice about her, saying that in spite of her negativity she was a nice person.  Later on my bestie told me I always have the ability to see the good in people even when they don't deserve it.

Before leaving to spend the week with my bestie I'd spoken to M about her negative talk.  Telling her she had such a blessed life, so much to be thankful for and she should concentrate on that.  As her matron of honour it was my job to make sure she made it through the wedding, having a great and fun experience.  She just about broke down saying "I won't say anything at all then" meaning if she couldn't be negative around me she may as well not talk since I obviously don't like hearing it.  Playing the hard done by victim.  I left her a really warm letter before heading off saying how honoured I was to be part of her wedding and how I would do my best to make it a great experience for her and help in anyway possible.  When I got back after a week with my bestie I found a long letter on the bed waiting for me saying

... she, M, has done so much for me and all I have done is take her for granted and not appreciated her and her efforts.  She's opened her doors to me and it's not easy having me stay there especially since I wasn't helping around the house.  She told me to make myself at home but that didn't mean not keeping my room tidy.  It's been stressful having me stay however she's willing to deal with it and get through this wedding, the least I could do is be gracious and give instead of take...

From the moment I arrived I had been doing the dishes daily, wiping down the kitchen, dinning table, straightening everything up, so the house would be perfect when she gets home.  Every day!  And sometimes I made dinner so it would be ready when she and her fiance walked in the door.  Regardless of her claiming I was being untidy, especially when it came to the room I was staying in, I knew I was being very neat.  For starters I was living out of a suitcase which was stressful enough.  All my clothes were kept neatly folded in my suitcase, never left about the room.  I made the bed every morning and every morning she came in and remade the bed because I hadn't done a  good enough job according to her.  She kept taking my teddies off the bed and leaving them on the floor and removed the plastic bag I was using as my private bin.  I had no privacy and her statement to make myself at home was total bollocks.

I had been going shopping several times during the week to replace food items I was eating and gave her money for bills, even though she insisted I not pay board or buy food because I was a guest in her house. 

When I read the letter I wanted to leave right there and then but I had no where to go.  I phoned my brother and asked him for advice, reading the letter to him.  If I stayed at my bestie's way down south I would have to travel hours by public transport to help with the wedding and I would hardly be there for M, which was her biggest complaint about everyone else.  I didn't know what to do and felt trapped.  I had to stay at M's and help out because I was matron of honour.  A part of me wanted to quit and tell her to shove it up her arse... and be gone when she came home but that would be letting her down.

So I stayed.

To be continued...

burger king fat

she hasn't seen her lover for while.

on the day he returns she organizes lunch.  burgers.  they eat their burgers and afterwards he talks about how guilty he feels.  gluttony.  the other house mate didn't want his burger so she decides she'll have it for dinner.

her lover asks her, "should you be eating that?"   implying calories and fat in take.  hearing this from him is interpreted as "you're so fat, don't even think about it."  she has seen fat people eating ice cream and chips and thinking "no!  don't do it!  it's a trap".  she knows the difference between her and what fat is.  for the moment she stews about it.  mulls it over.

shopping later on, walking through the carpark towards the mall, she tells him how she didn't like is comment about what she eats.  she has no real desire to alter her weight.  he says, "oh" and his meaning is hard to interpret.

as they walk through the mall she tells him to look around.  45% of the population is overweight or obese.  "i'm a size 10" she tells him, " i'm not fat."  pointing around her she tells him she's is the skinniest one there... except for that young business girl walking past them.  heading towards them is an aptly placed obese woman.  her point is made.

yet still lost on him.

the knife story

He'd taken me to some out of town tourist park during off season.  His families caravan sat unattended along with the others.  I had a feeling why he'd taken me there, that is: what he wanted from me.  On this day I wasn't in the mood.  I'd been at the beach all the previous day and was pink down the back of my body.  My skin hurt, was hot and dry and stinging just to exist.  Sex with him was out of the question.  Parking his divvy fan along side the caravan, we get out and he shows us around the caravan.  I found it too small, claustrophobic.  Not a place I wanted to have sex with him in.  Can't recall him actually asking me or making any moves though I know it happened since I knocked him back.  Inside his Divvy van later he grabs a knife from somewhere and holds it to my neck telling me, "I can really hurt a person if I don't get what I want".  First off I was shocked and scared when I saw the knife.  Wasn't sure what type of person he was since we'd only been dating for a couple of months.  Looking at the knife to see what type and what size it was- it was small non descript knife, then at this face to see how serious he was, a part of me didn't care.  Not too long ago my long term boyfriend had dumped me and I'd been heart broken ever since.  That kind of can't eat, can't talk, can't smile emptiness that takes ages to go away.  Part of me was thinking just do it.  Stab me.  I'm not going to have sex with you anyway.  Another part of me got really angry over him trying to force me into sex with him.  Even if I did have sex with him under that condition I'd have never been ok with it.  It would have been the last time I saw him and I'd have told somebody.  I ended up grabbing the knife off him and shoving it back at him and saying, "So can I".  Not really sure what possessed me or gave me the courage aside from anger and total disregard for life.  He realised he ain't getting any, started the car and took me home in a really bad mood.

he’s blown it

16 ways i blew my marriage. makes me think of my lover.  

he’s away a lot and mine when he’s back.  i like this arrangement because i get my space and that’s crucial.  it is not blown because of  that.  

i’m not happy.  it’s  mentally blown.  he might never have me fully.  i have my reasons for staying.  not one to like giving in, calling quits.  prefer the old been together 70 years type story.  i’m content at this point in my life.  cool job, house, not struggling for food, mine is not an overly hard life.  is stressful though.  

the article says about finding faults and name calling.  yeah that’s my world.  it’s really shaped the whole thing into a bizarre clash of the titans whenever he’s around.  i do sweet f all when he’s around because he’s taken it upon himself to tell me the many ‘better’ ways things can be done.  gets super shitty if i don’t abide by his recommendations.  get labelled all sorts of shit too on account of how poorly he thinks i do stuff.  it’s almost laughable really.  

he never wins our game of clash of the titans.  why keep going.  i ain’t ever going to back down and buy that shit.  i’m 95% content with my world.  maybe it’s too much to ask for the other 5%.  there again am i really?  

when i read the article i felt really shitty about his fault finding and the kind of damage it does.  not to my soul.  he’s not crushing me or making me believe his shit.  it just keeps me distant.  secretive.  i’ll never truly let him into my world.  and that’s where he’s blown it because it’s bloody awesome in my world.  i enjoy being me.  he has no idea he's blown it.  totally unaware.

then again how much does he let me into his world?  perhaps we've picked each other because we'll always be slightly outside of each other and that keeps us safe.  yet we're still more than we ever let anyone else in.

kissing is a sign

If the kiss doesn't fall into place he's not the one.  The relationship is doomed.  One guy kissed like wood pecker.  Peck peck peck.  I hated it.  I hated him.  He ran the relationship that way.  Come close pull back, come close pull back.  Some times completely withdraw for hours then be all possessive like.  Yuk.  One guy came at me like the mouth of Luna Park.

kissing

All dark cave and tongue.  Nice guy but a hard kiss to adjust to.  Made my mouth ache.  One guy was all tonsil hockey just about choking me.  Tongue all the way in.  Gag.  An in the relationship all they way in kinda guy.  One guy liked to lick my face.  Me with my germ phobia.  I liked him.  Spunky as he was.  Time to move on.  A couple fell into place completely.  Such a *sigh* feeling.  Refreshing.  Not a complicated kiss.  Meshing like we'd done this before.  Fully in sync with each other.  Funny enough, loved the guys madly but the relationships were major complicated.  Too much passion.  Too much hostility.  They were all over me one minute then pretending they didn't give a shit the next.  And I fell hook line an sinker.  Did my bloody head in.  They're the one's I think of fondly from time to time.  The one's I can't forget.  You mark my word a kiss tells you everything.

driving without a license

When I was 17 on my L plates I finished work waiting for a friend to finish.  My friend told me to wait in his car, his shift ended if half an hour.  Gives me the keys and I wait in his car.  Waiting waiting.  I get bored and decide I'll take the car for a spin around the block, take a couple of back streets.  Off I go driving around doing a fine job.  I'd been driving since I was 14.  My dad taught me because he believed it was important for me to know.  In case something ever happened to him and I needed to take him to the hospital.  I stop at a T intersection putting my indicator on to turn left, look behind me and see I have a police car on my tail.  Kinda shit bricks because I'm so little they're bound to know I'm not old enough to drive.  I've no P plates on my car to say I'm old enough to drive while still looking young.  I keep driving and they tail me for a couple 100 meters but in the end they turn off in a different direction.  I hightail it back to my work car park only to find the car park my friends car was parked in is now taken.  He'll know I took his car for a drive now that his car is moved.  Friend comes out sees the car is moved, asks me if I drove his car, I confess and offer him petrol money.  He declines and is fine with me driving his car.  Tells me a story about another friend who drove his car once and crashed it on her first drive.  Least I returned his car in one piece.

growing up without a mum

Growing up without a mum I didn't know all those girly things about makeup and tampons.

Didn't know how to cook or boil an egg.

Was never especially affectionate or caring like other girls.

Lived with my dad and was raised having in-depth philosophical discussions and being trained how to defend myself.

Never knew how to bake a cake.

Did know the main pressure points on the human body, where and how to hit a man that could kill or mame him, how to turn every thing and anything into a weapon, basics of ninjutsu and boxing, how to shoot, how to hunt and skin animals, to always be aware of my surroundings.

My dad taught me how to survive an attack.

Never was attacked thankfully, yet it's good stuff to be taught and I've never forgotten.

I know I'm not like other girls.

I've talked to them about the things I know and they look at me funny.

Maybe, hopefully, I'll never need this stuff.  Helps me feel safer though and I like how dad was looking out for me.