i’m a deranged bitch.

god, i love my ex boyfriend. he’s terrific. really, he is. don’t take that for sarcasm.

SUNDAY EVENING (last night)

6:10pm: i called him.
me – “hey, what are you doing later tonight?”
him – “i dunno. nothing, why?”
-”k cool. so can i get my shit back then?”
-”what shit?”
-”uhm… my bandeau and earring?”
-”okay, well i dunno if i can find the earring.”
-”well do you at least know where my bandeau is?”
-”yeah, i guess i can look for it.”
-”whatever. just call me once you find it.”
-”k.”
i hang up.

3 hours later. seriously. THREE HOURS LATER, i still hadn’t heard from him. so i called him and it rang a couple times and then went to voice-mail (he ignored it). then, i got jade to call. again, he ignored her call too. so she texted him saying;

her – “you have my shit… my friend kayla left it at your place, and i’d like it back. i know she’s tried to get it, but apparently you have a thing for hoarding women’s belongings. i’ll send my boyfriend for it if i don’t get it tonight.”
him – “and what would be the point in bringing him?”
-”alright, that’s cool… i’ll be there in 5 minutes without him then.”
-”tonight’s not good, could you come another night?”
-”can’t… need it now, and we’re already on our way. kayla tells me you live with your sister, so i’m sure she could help me out.”
-”what is it your looking for?”
-”an earring and a purple bandeau.”

so THEN, the three of us show up (jade, her sister jane, and myself). and as we approached his house, we see that he BLOCKED the driveway with his truck. and as we analyzed it for a bit, we realized that he was, indeed, sitting in his truck waiting for us, while smoking. so i was fuckin’ pissed. i was going to be relatively polite and civil, until he found it overly necessary to block us out. so i walked up to his truck and said;

me – “do you have my shit? can i have it? thanks.”
him – “yeah. here’s your bandeau.” (but in like a really rude tone)
-”what’s your problem??”
-”nothing. i don’t have time for a deranged bitch like you.”
-”EXCUSE ME!? DERANGED!? you’re the one who selectively answers my calls. i’ve been trying to get my shit back from you for the past TWO weeks. i just want my shit back so i can be done with you.”
-”whatever. deranged. i don’t have time for this i don’t need this right now.”
-”YOU don’t need this?? i don’t need to be called a deranged bitch just because i want MY things back.”
and then there was a boatload of yelling repetitive things at one-another. and jade in the background saying “it’s my shit!! and i want it back. AND I’M THE DERANGED BITCH!” (quite comical, i tried really hard not to laugh)
and basically i was like “it’s my roommates shit, i just want it back. WE just want it back.” and yadda, yadda, yadda, lots of yelling. whatever. my adrenaline was reaaaaally high, so i don’t remember everything.

and then jane went to talk to him (i was in the car), and it went something like this;
her – “hey, so the earring is mine and i just want it back.”
him -”well i don’t even know what it looks like. like, is it a hoop, a stud, what is it?”
-”it’s purple and gold and it’s dangly.” (keep in mind, i’ve told him at LEAST three times what the earring looks like)
-”okay, well i guess i’ll look for it.”
*some random chatter, forget what was said… not that i could hear it.*
then jane just came back and recited the conversation.

and THEN, tonight, he called jade and was all “oh, i found her earring in a case of ammo.”
and so, because jade was going to her boyfriends, and we didn’t know when jane would be home, i had to go and retrieve the earring. i had jade text him and tell him to leave it in his mailbox. earring retrieved?? yes, me thinks so. ;)

so… my moral here is;
no matter how flippin’ wonderful the sex is, and no matter how many times you finish… it’s really not worth it. damn that german in me that makes me so stubborn and selfish. boys/men/anything with a penis are confusing idiots.
i don’t ever want to walk into my ex-boyfriend’s house and hear him playing the cd i made him for christmas. i don’t ever want my ex-boyfriend to deem it acceptable to call me when he’s drunk and wants to fuck, and not pick up when i’ve got an itch that needs to be scratched. i don’t want my ex-boyfriend to return the calls that my phone pocket-dials, yet completely ignore me when i have something to say (such as, “i want my shit back”). basically, i want absolutely nothing to do with my ex-boyfriend in general. any of them, for that matter. they’re an ex for a reason, and a damn good one at that. the only way i want my ex-boyfriend to be even remotely classified as “in-my-life” is when i’m making his a living hell.
that sounds fair, doesn’t it?

would you like an example? my ex-boyfriend from 2 years ago has a piece of shit neon that is his “baby”… seriously, i think he fucks the gas tank. and one of my best friends, catherine, and i have been plotting to stickey note it for the past year now. coincidence that he’s gone to florida all week and left his car behind? coincidence that he’s constantly sending play-by-play’s of his trip to fb? hmm… no, i don’t think so. i think god’s with us on this one. i think god’s saying, “hey, buddy… fuck you too!” hahahaha, suuuucker won’t even know what hit him. it’s going down this weekend. and i’ll be SURE to post pictures! :D

anyways,  on that note… i’m off.

xo.