What a pickle! My roommate, his mother (who arrived a short time ago), and his wretched Fiancee are in the living room, decorating a Christmas tree. As I refuse to decorate for Christmas with a hypocrite who is also a lying, scheming, cheating, rude, inconsiderate tramp, I am in my room, looking to my roommate and his mother to be the most unreasonable of souls.
Fiancee, for whom I have utter contempt, has pushed my very last button. I cannot stand to be in the same room with her.
Because after several other little drama princess stupidities on her part, she had the colossal gal to tell me (the day after Mum went back to South Alabama) what a great favour she was doing roommate and his mother by lowering herself to agree to be married to him.
Like all crashing boors, Fiancee has an extremely high opinion of herself. This miserable excuse for a young engaged woman arrogantly went on to tell me that she will do everything in her power to keep any children from the grasping clutches of Roomie's mother, since Mum is "simple, rednecked, ill-mannered, common, a religious fanatic, and completely lacking in the grace and elegance" Fiancee embodies.
Meanwhile, this grasping, gold-digging little admitted pagan rings up at all hours, wanting to know if Roomie drove by her house and saw her ex-boyfriend's car. The ex-boyfriend is a regular at Fiancee's, and yes, my roommate frequently drives by to pick her up for a planned excursion only to find the ex's car in Fiancee's drive. So her frantic calls are to be expected.
She also openly admits she is using the ex-boyfriend for tutoring services, since he is so brilliant, and is not a bit uncomfortable to do so in front of Roomie. She thinks she is brilliant for her ability to use many people, and dismisses me (Thank-You, God) as having no material worth to her.
Currently, she is using my roommate for an iPod and accessories. No fool he, he is giving her the iPod a piece at a time, calling it "The Twelve Days of Christmas" gifting.
Her latest frantic call came a few nights ago. I could barely be civil after she asked if Roomie had driven by, and been angered to see the ex's car yet again in the drive. The poor sot was actually putting in overtime cleaning the lab he works in. Blissfully unaware of the total git she is, he got home around 2300, and had her and the entourage over for a party.
The neighbours despise us. Someone in the entourage tried to enter the next door apartment near midnight; they all went out on the balcony at 0200 and drunkenly forced the vicinity to endure their boorishness until near dawn, at which time, good little vampires that they are, they crept away leaving a ruined kitchen and living room in their wake.
So. Here I sit, blogging instead of eggnogging, because that little hussy put me in the horrid position of having to be in the same room with her and her future mum-in-law knowing how disrespectfully the little brat feels about Mum.
After spending the entire day cleaning up the apartment-including kitchen that I rarely eat in yet somehow always manage to have to clean, and just as I was finally getting around to my personal chores of cooking enough food to ensure I would only have to microwave a plate every night after work, guess who called to announce the imminent arrival of Fiancee? Not Fiancee-trust me, this worthless piece of steer dropping is much too good to make her own calls-she had one of the entourage ring up to inform us that Fiancee was using the arrival of Mum to beg out of work, and would be arriving shortly.
Roomie fell asleep on the couch, and I hurried to finish my investment cooking before Fiancee could manipulate me into having to feed her.
SideBar Moment: I began wondering about Fiancee when Roomie arrived home a few months ago early from an outing with her in a towering rage. When he calmed a bit, he told me that he'd been waiting on Fiancee to get herself together so that they could leave her place-she lives with her parents-when she received a cell phone call from her ex-boyfriend inviting her over because he had some meat he was going to BBQ. Apparently she was more interested in the meat than her planned date with Roomie, and made no bones about her preference. He likened her good-bye to Roomie, and subsequent removal to Ex's, to the departure of a Delta rocket.
She also arrived last Sunday just as I was taking my dinner out of the oven, making it clear she was going to join me for the meal-another investment meal-went for a plate and helped herself without asking or being asked. I was so livid I almost gave into the temptation to stab her with a carving knife. I beat her to the food, got my dinner, went out to the LR to avoid killing her, and started eating. The little ho had the nerve to bring her plate and sit down next to me. She saw me eating and asked, "Aren't you going to wait for (Roomie)? I looked at her, said no, and went on stoically chewing.
She seems to know when there are groceries in the house, especially meat.
GRRR! She tapped on the door, and then stuck her key in the lock. I think that really set me off completely. I hate that she has a key to this place. I know that she comes in here during the day when Roomie is at work, she uses my bathroom and leaves behind her characteristic mess, and I am beginning to suspect that she is having sex with Ex here.
When I heard her key, I hoped it was Mum, and got the thing open before she could. When I saw who it was, I whirled around, and went back to cleaning up the kitchen. She mentioned that I'd had my haircut, I said yes, and prayed she would leave me the hell alone.
She woke Roomie, they went to his room, and apparently she started yet another of her tirades, because I heard crashing and her angry voice over the sound of the running water in the sink.
Unfortunately, I missed the phone call from Roomie's lost mother over the running water, because somehow both phones ended up in his room, where apparently Fiancee's tirade drowned out the sound of both phones ringing in the same room, because when I turned off the water, I heard the answering machine beeping. When I played the message, I relayed to Roomie that his mother was lost, and needed assistance.
When Fiancee made disparaging comments about Mum in her usual disrespectful tone I completely lost it.
I realized I simply could not be in the same room with her and Roomie's mother knowing how Fiancee felt about her.
I realize I simply cannot stand Fiancee, period.
She calls Christmas "The Evil Season.
I'm beginning to understand why witches used to be burned at the stake.