So before you go getting all upset thinking you feature in one of our blog posts (attention: you don't), you may want to count yourself lucky.
At least we channel our creative frustration with words not art and craft....
heh heh heh... check this out
Man's genitals glued by three scorned lovers
-thanks to G for the link xx
Showing posts with label Jealousy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jealousy. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Friday, July 17, 2009
Jealousy, look what it's done to me...
*thanks Sparkadia for my title*
My recent posts have all been concerned about the presence of the ex-girlfriend and her place in the future relationship. Apparently this is keeping my grey matter stimulated, and my paranoia rolling on.
However, like my stalking ways I feel safe in the knowledge that I am not alone in my ex fixation. This subject has been addressed my many a film, novel, song and blog post so anything I write is sure to be far from original.
So I offer you some anecdotes from my disastrous experiences, as well as tales from my nearest and dearest.
However, like my stalking ways I feel safe in the knowledge that I am not alone in my ex fixation. This subject has been addressed my many a film, novel, song and blog post so anything I write is sure to be far from original.
So I offer you some anecdotes from my disastrous experiences, as well as tales from my nearest and dearest.
Perhaps my favourite story is that of a very favourite friend of mine. Many years ago now, she began a relationship with a dashing young lad. Just 18, my friend understandably had little in the way of serious relationship experience. Her beau however, had previously been in a semi-long term relationship which drew to a messy end months prior to their dalliance beginning.
However despite relationship conclusion, this ex would not leave, and to dabble in colloquialism, seemed perfectly prepared to hang around like a bad smell. After months of less than coincidental chance meetings, friendly texts and generally making her presence known to my friend, my lovely mate resorted to dirty tactics.
She brought me in. It seems that the crazy ex had found a new tactic- by attaching herself to her ex-boyfriends’ best friends, she had found a way to maintain significant threat to my lovely friends’ psyche.
My mission: to flirt with the boyfriends’ best friend, therefore detracting from Crazy’s attempts to successfully elicit coupling from best friend.
It seems that when issues with a mission, my perfectionist nature emerges. I performed this task with aplomb. The best friend and I hit it off, and spent the evening flirtatiously discussing Wallabies line-ups and swapping Anchorman quotes (*so 2004*).
Three years later, we were still in a very loving relationship. However all good things must come to an end, and that end is the subject of another story.
The moral of this tale: People will do desperate things to attempt to obviate the ex issue (or just be hilariously spiteful… fantastic).
However despite relationship conclusion, this ex would not leave, and to dabble in colloquialism, seemed perfectly prepared to hang around like a bad smell. After months of less than coincidental chance meetings, friendly texts and generally making her presence known to my friend, my lovely mate resorted to dirty tactics.
She brought me in. It seems that the crazy ex had found a new tactic- by attaching herself to her ex-boyfriends’ best friends, she had found a way to maintain significant threat to my lovely friends’ psyche.
My mission: to flirt with the boyfriends’ best friend, therefore detracting from Crazy’s attempts to successfully elicit coupling from best friend.
It seems that when issues with a mission, my perfectionist nature emerges. I performed this task with aplomb. The best friend and I hit it off, and spent the evening flirtatiously discussing Wallabies line-ups and swapping Anchorman quotes (*so 2004*).
Three years later, we were still in a very loving relationship. However all good things must come to an end, and that end is the subject of another story.
The moral of this tale: People will do desperate things to attempt to obviate the ex issue (or just be hilariously spiteful… fantastic).
For me in another relationship, the jealousy was not of an ex-girlfriend, but of the ‘bromance’ that occupied his time prior to our relationship.
This particular gentleman had a very close circle of friends, fantastic in their rich and diverse passions, interests and talents. This is something immensely attractive to me in a potential partner, as there is something to be said for his friends beyond more than dirty stoner musicians, or drunken rugby louts.
However unique to this circle of friends was their specific gender. Every single individual was male and had been in this intensely polygamous relationship for many years and it seemed to be a tough nut to crack.
Nonetheless I was confident in my abilities. I am typically a ‘guys girl’. I can discuss rugby, music, cricket, motorbike racing, politics, terminator films and most topics as well as any man. However in this instance I was overconfident. This group was impenetrable.
My imagined visions of fusions of friendship circles enjoying gigs, days in the sun drinking gin and summer parties dancing in the rain would never be realised. Alas we were destined to attend the same gigs, but maintain opposing quarters.
I soon came to see I could never occupy Number One position in this mans’ heart. His loyalties were an all male affair.
Similarly, another attraction to a somewhat successful musician had me begrudging tour dates, recording obligations and other women deploying the weapons of cleavage, short skirts and slutty behaviour to attempt to derail me.
All in all, it seems the ex factor is not so much about the person, but our own jealousies. Jealousy is certainly a bitter little pill poisoning relationships, but its focus is not limited to previous partners. If in fact it was, this would be a blissful state of affairs. After all, the ex is exactly that-ex. The relationship ended, no doubt for good reason and she is left in the cold, whilst he shares his bed with you.
It’s the friends, the career, the family and everything else which is going nowhere you have to worry about.
This particular gentleman had a very close circle of friends, fantastic in their rich and diverse passions, interests and talents. This is something immensely attractive to me in a potential partner, as there is something to be said for his friends beyond more than dirty stoner musicians, or drunken rugby louts.
However unique to this circle of friends was their specific gender. Every single individual was male and had been in this intensely polygamous relationship for many years and it seemed to be a tough nut to crack.
Nonetheless I was confident in my abilities. I am typically a ‘guys girl’. I can discuss rugby, music, cricket, motorbike racing, politics, terminator films and most topics as well as any man. However in this instance I was overconfident. This group was impenetrable.
My imagined visions of fusions of friendship circles enjoying gigs, days in the sun drinking gin and summer parties dancing in the rain would never be realised. Alas we were destined to attend the same gigs, but maintain opposing quarters.
I soon came to see I could never occupy Number One position in this mans’ heart. His loyalties were an all male affair.
Similarly, another attraction to a somewhat successful musician had me begrudging tour dates, recording obligations and other women deploying the weapons of cleavage, short skirts and slutty behaviour to attempt to derail me.
All in all, it seems the ex factor is not so much about the person, but our own jealousies. Jealousy is certainly a bitter little pill poisoning relationships, but its focus is not limited to previous partners. If in fact it was, this would be a blissful state of affairs. After all, the ex is exactly that-ex. The relationship ended, no doubt for good reason and she is left in the cold, whilst he shares his bed with you.
It’s the friends, the career, the family and everything else which is going nowhere you have to worry about.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
I See You Baby... online
I really should learn to follow my own advice. Truly.
I previously counselled against gleaning information via the www about current, potential or former partners. Those cold hard facts, or even unsubstantiated allusions bite like little bullets at our hearts.
It can be a change in ‘relationship status’ on Facebook, incriminating photos posted of your man with new women or indeed finding his own cyber contributions to (far less noteworthy) blogs.
I have two particular incidents of information gathering (a far more flattering term than plain old stalking) which stand out in my mind.
The first was soon after meeting a gentleman who would come to occupy a not-insignificant portion of my formative years. After a period of courtship, I did what any self-respecting Generation Y member does: visits Google for some sneaky research.
After the standard Facebook references, Number 1 result after a name search was a contribution made to an online study forum for the Higher School Certificate from many, many years ago. This individual had posted an essay used for an English assessment, complete with abbreviations “u” in place of “you” and “2” in place of “to”.
Before I even began contemplating whether it was ever acceptable to use personal pronouns in formal literature assessments, I was overwhelmed with absolute humiliation that something so abhorrent to me (poor grammar) had apparently crept into my list of acceptable qualities in a partner.
However I was smitten, and rather than contemplate a future of monotonous conversations devoid of witty language manipulations, substituted instead with grunts and moans, I forgave such a crime.
This momentary omission in good judgement caused me months in relationship pain an anguish, resulting in an ultimate demise. Whilst the death of the affair is more than likely not connected to his absolute language rape, in future I shall certainly be more critical of the vocabulary faculties of potential partners.
The second occasion of ill-advised stalking happened just minutes ago, and prompted me to write this post as a form of therapy.
I was happily doing ‘research’ on a certain gentlemen I have a sweet spot for, when I happened upon information regarding his previous girlfriend.
You may wonder where I found such information…. Facebook? Twitter? A blog? Godforbid Myspace?
None of these.
No, it was Wikipedia.
She is so accomplished in her field of creativity she has a freaking Wikipedia posting.
Besides my HSC results, this blog forms the peak of documentation of my online success (fml much?).
So now, I’m feeling quite unworthy and pathetic,
Why? Am I pathetic? Yes, quite possibly. I googled. I stalked. Rather than watch re-runs of Harry Potter on Channel 9 like every other normal (?) person, I sit in my study, blasting Cream and brushing up my Private Eye skills.
Unworthy? Perhaps not. Considerations as to the suitability of creative folks for non-creative people is subject for further blog fodder, however needless to say, I was perfectly happy in my own skin until I began comparing myself to a person who not only no longer features in this man’s life, but now lives overseas and is dating a member of a rather famous band.
Moral of the story: Stop stalking! Back away from the computer. Go for a run, go to a café, write some lyrics, have a double gin.
Or even better, write a blog post telling the cyber world detailing just how pathetic you are.
I previously counselled against gleaning information via the www about current, potential or former partners. Those cold hard facts, or even unsubstantiated allusions bite like little bullets at our hearts.
It can be a change in ‘relationship status’ on Facebook, incriminating photos posted of your man with new women or indeed finding his own cyber contributions to (far less noteworthy) blogs.
I have two particular incidents of information gathering (a far more flattering term than plain old stalking) which stand out in my mind.
The first was soon after meeting a gentleman who would come to occupy a not-insignificant portion of my formative years. After a period of courtship, I did what any self-respecting Generation Y member does: visits Google for some sneaky research.
After the standard Facebook references, Number 1 result after a name search was a contribution made to an online study forum for the Higher School Certificate from many, many years ago. This individual had posted an essay used for an English assessment, complete with abbreviations “u” in place of “you” and “2” in place of “to”.
Before I even began contemplating whether it was ever acceptable to use personal pronouns in formal literature assessments, I was overwhelmed with absolute humiliation that something so abhorrent to me (poor grammar) had apparently crept into my list of acceptable qualities in a partner.
However I was smitten, and rather than contemplate a future of monotonous conversations devoid of witty language manipulations, substituted instead with grunts and moans, I forgave such a crime.
This momentary omission in good judgement caused me months in relationship pain an anguish, resulting in an ultimate demise. Whilst the death of the affair is more than likely not connected to his absolute language rape, in future I shall certainly be more critical of the vocabulary faculties of potential partners.
The second occasion of ill-advised stalking happened just minutes ago, and prompted me to write this post as a form of therapy.
I was happily doing ‘research’ on a certain gentlemen I have a sweet spot for, when I happened upon information regarding his previous girlfriend.
You may wonder where I found such information…. Facebook? Twitter? A blog? Godforbid Myspace?
None of these.
No, it was Wikipedia.
She is so accomplished in her field of creativity she has a freaking Wikipedia posting.
Besides my HSC results, this blog forms the peak of documentation of my online success (fml much?).
So now, I’m feeling quite unworthy and pathetic,
Why? Am I pathetic? Yes, quite possibly. I googled. I stalked. Rather than watch re-runs of Harry Potter on Channel 9 like every other normal (?) person, I sit in my study, blasting Cream and brushing up my Private Eye skills.
Unworthy? Perhaps not. Considerations as to the suitability of creative folks for non-creative people is subject for further blog fodder, however needless to say, I was perfectly happy in my own skin until I began comparing myself to a person who not only no longer features in this man’s life, but now lives overseas and is dating a member of a rather famous band.
Moral of the story: Stop stalking! Back away from the computer. Go for a run, go to a café, write some lyrics, have a double gin.
Or even better, write a blog post telling the cyber world detailing just how pathetic you are.
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