I would rather a photo of me (Gamble’s idol) take a place in her freezer than her going off at me with choice language fit for a queen. Enjoy my face every time you open the freezer. Ha! It’s interesting how Rick is so detached from the wedding. Is Gamble a control freak or does Rick completely trust her judgement? All Rick has to do apparently is turn up and know the time, place, how to dress and pay some bills.
Gamble has a feisty personality and has butted heads with Manuela, Janet, Lydia and myself. She can stand her own ground and her little whine that I’ve broken her confidence is rubbish. Come on, give me a break Gamble. Stop playing the victim card. Gamble is no self-conscious wallflower. She can’t take the heat but she opens her mouth and spits fire. Exhale all the fire you want, Gamble, your comments can’t burn me.
Gamble is not mixing words when it comes to my presence at her wedding; her concern is that my absence will be the topic of conversation at her wedding and if she doesn’t invite me she will look like she has excluded me. Who is she kidding?
The meeting with Gina and her P.A. was uncomfortably comedic. I don’t think your fruit salad will impress the drag queens Gina – they are more like Coco-Chanel. It was painful to watch Josh; he was red-faced and unprepared. I hope Gina’s dominance rubs off on him and his phone becomes surgically attached.
“If you want to go to bed with Gina, buy your wife this fragrance.”
If you want to go to bed with Gina, eat garlic.
It was great to catch up with my sister Gillian as we have not been as close in a few months. I was delighted to see her – sweetly grabbing her hand and walking her in. She compliments me about my weight loss and I love the sound of that! Gillian is reserved and doesn’t like confrontation. Her introverted nature shies away when around my extroverted side and I feel like I was pushing her into a corner by asking her a million questions. My intention with seeing Gillian was to bridge our gap and not lose the connection we share. She is my best friend and she will always remain my best friend.
Do I talk about myself? Yes. Do I talk about my new handbag and my new shoes? Yes. I love my sister and want to share every aspect of my life with her. I do not have another feminine presence in my home – I’m surrounded by males who have a five-second attention span when it comes to feminine accessories. My eyes have been opened to understanding that my excitement for sharing my new wardrobe, like all girls love to do, can come across as a self-indulged overkill. Gillian thinks that I am pretentious. I understand how it could be perceived that way due to my self-confidence and big personality. I got a right-royal hammering by my sister. Looks like us sisters share a certain fierceness. I am all about listening and improving even though I may come across as into myself. People give me the platform to speak but never the seat in the audience. Why have a gripe when you are happy sitting back to let me talk? I may not remember the name of the company my sister works at but I know she loves to sing off-key, Born to be Alive by Patrick Hernandez is her favourite song and she licks her lips at the thought of a Choc Wedge Ice Cream.
Lydia is flirting again with the Porsche salesman – snooze! From Chitty-Chitty Bang Bang to bang bang Porsche. Seems to me like Lydia is very obsessed with bang bang. I feel extremely sorry for Johanna.
“Left! Chung-Chung not Ching-Ching… ‘That’s Chinese’. Ah, whatever, it all sounds the same to me.”
Really Lydia? I think Lydia thinks it’s funny.
We arrive at Gamble’s and Lydia arrives shortly after and pats me on the head. Really Lydia? We haven’t seen each other in a few weeks – give me a bit of respect and space. I don’t know which was worse: the tap on the head or the description of me as an albino Ewok by Susie. She is making unprovoked, unpleasant remarks about a few of the women. Really Susie? I have nothing but nice things to say about you. Should I take that as a compliment or is Susie being a mean girl?
Janet, Jackie and Susie have gripes with Lydia and are giving me their opinions and advise on Lydia’s behaviour towards me. They are ripping her apart; I am a bit taken aback by Susie’s consistent gripes with Lydia. I am frightened of the concept of being an ex-friend of Susie. I am not going to be caught up in their disdain towards Lydia even though I do agree with some of the things they are saying. I do believe that all friendships have ups and downs, however I am not going to step on Lydia when she’s down. I was unaware, however, that Lydia was enjoying having a laugh with Gamble at my expense just metres away. Lydia’s moved on quick. Even though the other ladies’ comments are very harsh, there is some truth to it and Lydia needs to take responsibility for her actions.
Lydia asks me to chat, assuming that my claws were out and that I was wound up. If only she had heard my prior conversation. Trying to explain to Lydia that she has not helped the situation is like fishing for birds. There is a possibility that Gamble would have heard about my comments eventually, but by then our friendship may have been in a better place. I do take responsibility for my comments about Gamble and I did admit to Gina that it was not nice however Lydia isn’t comprehending the facts that are so blatantly obvious. It makes me wonder whether or not Lydia would believe me if I told her that Santa Claus is real. Lydia tries miserably to cover her arse as she back-paddles against a strong current. She says, “Pettifleur takes things to extreme levels and she has a trust issue or some kind of insecurity that I would love to get to the bottom of.” The only thing Lydia need to get to the bottom of is how not to start a fire.
Extreme levels? Trust issues? Insecurity? Wait, trust issues? Can you blame me? I think Lydia’s actions speak for themselves.
To add salt to my wounds, Lydia has turned her back on me and flaunts her new friendship with Gamble. Lydia ignites another fire by telling me that all of the other ladies dislike me and bitch about me behind my back. I believe Lydia is telling the truth as Gamble accurately justifies, “Pettifleur’s back has so many knives in it she has no idea… surprised she can even walk.” Gamble is right; I can feel all of the girls’ knives as they speak behind my back, as well as their eye-rolling, whispering and taking jabs when they get a chance. Mature by age but not by nature.
Of course, the rest deny saying anything negative about me behind my back. Who are they trying to kid? Jackie, Gina and Janet inform me they have only ever been intentionally nasty to my face. Thanks for the consolation prize ladies. Ironically, I would have to agree with Gamble and Lydia. I hope Lydia realises my friendship is genuine and loyal. As the other ladies bash Lydia, Gamble and I agree that it is not a ‘Burn Lydia’ party and the animosity in the room ceases.
The uproar is broken up by Gamble announcing that she has something to give us. Little did I know that it was going to result in another sh*t fight.
We have to all agree that there is some bad blood between Gamble and myself. As Gamble herself admits, I seem to have an impact on how she acts, feel and thinks. It is not my fault that I have such an impact on her emotions – she should be able to control them. Gamble has not shied away from making it known – publicly – that she does not want me at her wedding, nor my presence in my absence. I am very flattered by Gamble’s fixation on me as she believes my absence would be the talk of the wedding. Forget the bride and the groom: where is Pettifleur? Gamble speaks more about me than Rick so perhaps she should be marrying me instead?
I don’t hold grudges which is why I accepted Gamble’s invitation to her home with the other ladies. I had no expectations from Gamble and I was happy to bury the hatchet. I did not feel welcomed by Gamble; fortunately I had the other ladies to converse with. I did not expect Gamble to ditch us ladies (in her own home) and run off and discuss me with Lydia – my ‘bestie’.
It is very hard to watch your ‘bestie’ and your ‘frenemy’ discuss your appearance with vindictive laughter. They see me wearing fashion headwear, a fierce outfit and a toned body and suddenly I am the butt of their jokes. #jealousmuch. Not only do Gamble and Lydia believe my self-confidence in my body is an obsession, but Gamble apparently knows my trainer – not! Apparently I am in training to become a bodybuilder – more like shredding for the wedding (I may need the extra muscles to muster the women). How did a joke at the expense of the transgender community come into this? Can’t women be fit and toned too? #viciousmuch Gamble.
Even though Gamble is bitching behind my back to Lydia, I can sense the wrath of her anger and bitterness towards me. So how does a girl accept an invitation handed over to her after all the bitching with Lydia and her stepson Luke, as well as her public reluctance to invite me to the wedding? I mean, just look at the ease and fun Gamble and her step-son Luke have making comments at my expense. “Rip that bitch to shreds?” I guess Luke grasps that my skin, unlike the congealed plastic holding his step-mother’s together, allows me to be ripped.
Rick says, “I quite like Pettifleur… Why does Pettifleur do this? Because she perceives that you have treated her like that.” Rick is right. Gamble does treat me “like that”. The perception is reality.
I had the right to politely ask her to reconsider why she would want me at her wedding as her wedding should be a happy, important day with selected guests to celebrate a joyous occasion. It is apparent, therefore, that she had a selfish and ulterior motive to invite me. Who begs to differ? I said, “I don’t want to be too rude, but you have to think about it before you give it to me. I can’t accept until you have another think about why you are inviting me and why you want me to be there.”
Since when do ‘reconsider’ and ‘refuse’ herald the same meaning?
I did not refuse Gamble’s invitation. I asked Gamble to reconsider my invitation on the grounds that I was feeling humiliated, ignored, shunned and insulted.
Gamble tossing the invitation and bolting off is, in hindsight, pure gold. I have to give it to Gamble – that was bloody hilarious. What wasn’t hilarious, however, was getting my head bitten off by all of the other hungry hyenas.
Gina: “What? Why do that to her?”
Seriously Gina? Gamble says derogatory comments about me to her stepson, her dogs, her wedding planner, my ‘friend’ and the rest of the world. Why would I want to attend an event where I am not only not wanted, but, death-stared by the entire wedding reception. AKA Gamble’s sister.
Chyka: “Why now? I don’t know why Pettifleur does this. I don’t know why she thought that was the right thing to do.”
Why not now Chyka? No time would have been deemed a ‘good time’ by any of the ladies and I still would have been scrutinised. Gamble gave the ladies, their partners, their dogs, the milkman and Janet’s ex-husband (who she met literally seconds prior) their invitations before mine. Clearly, the timing was perfect. Say it in front of the other women and Gamble would respond: “Pettifleur, get f***ed.” Say it alone to Gamble and she would respond: “Pettifleur, get f***ed.” Both result with the same end. I just can’t do anything right. At least I wouldn’t have been attacked callously by the other ladies if done one-on-one – my mistake.
Thank you for reading my blog,
Lots of love,