Tuesday, April 11, 2006

Busted

Don't you hate getting caught in a lie? How much more do you hate it when your fiance busts you in a lie on the eve of his departure to Mexico to go to strip bars and surf on beaches filled with bikini clad women?

A.S. left half of his possessions here this past weekend by accident, and among them was some very important medication that he can't go without for the entire vacation. So he asked a fellow boob-traveler to bring it to him when they all meet in Charlotte. I was to leave his little satchel of possessions on the downstairs porch for him to pick up.

Well...I forgot, okay! I fucking fucking forgot, which I always do, and it really pisses me off that I can't ever remember anything ever ever ever goddamnitohell.

I even thought about grabbing it before I walked the dog, fearing that I would later forget. In fact, I thought so hard about it, I really thought I had actually done it.

Anyway, his friend came by while I was at the Charleston Women in International Trade banquet (very good filets) and naturally, the bag was not there. They called, but my phone was politely turned off. And when I came home and called A.S. to say goodnight, he told me that his friend hadn't found it. So I made a quick little story up that my neighbor Vince had accidentally picked it up thinking I'd forgotten it.

A.S. says, "That's strange. [My friend] talked to Vince, and Vince said he didn't have it."

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

What was a harmless little untruth that I intended to rectify by taking the bag OUT to his friend's house immediately was suddenly a giant monstrous smelly lie. Naturally, I lied some more and said that Vince was probably inebriated, which, being a bartender, he often is. And as soon as I got off the phone with him, I called Vince and made him promise not to tell.

So now my fiance is gone, and my stomach hurts because I lied, and lied for no real reason. I mean, he wasn't pissed at me really. Why did I have to go and say that? Now he's going off to Mexico, and we've had a fairly rotten last few days because of leftover stress from his thesis and he's going to be looking at boobs that are all (doubtless) bigger than mine, thinking what a liar I am. I despise feeling guilty and desperate.

AND I'm having to MOVE OUT of my lovely apartment, leaving all of my friends and neighbors, and paying bills out of my nonexistent checking account, and it's all just making me sick. How I would LOVE to get away for a couple of days with my friends and unwind. Why is that I help A.S. move FOUR TIMES in the course of our relationship and now that I need help, some ho's big fake tits are more important than me?

I think I'm going to go cry. I'm a girl. I can effing cry if I want to. Being engaged sucks. Everything just sucks.

5 comments:

barbie2be said...

poor jemima... if i were there, i would offer to help you move. don't worry about the boob's in mexico. you know A.S. loves you.

Jemima said...

I know. I absolutely know he won't DO anything (well, besides look), so I wish I could stop feeling jealous.

Nothing But Bonfires said...

You know, A.S. never seemed like a boob man to me. I bet he's hardly looking at all.

Want me to bring a Nekkid Brad Pitt movie over or something?

Wordnerd said...

Honey, I'd tell ya to cheer up but I won't -- that's too effin' patronizing. Have your cry, take a deep breath, and let it go. You seem to have a LOT going on in your life so don't be too hard on yourself. This too shall pass...

roo said...

Ugh. I've been there before-- you're anxious, feeling guilty already, and the lie just comes out.

Your story reminded me of a bit by Norm Macdonald:
Do you ever find yourself lying for no reason? Somebody asks you:
"Hey, did you ever see this movie?"

"...Yes."

And then you're thinking to yourself, "Wait a minute... I stand nothing to gain by this lie."

And then you have to make something up from seeing the commercials.

Anyway, I'm sure everything will work out. Feel better.