:: Searching for Puck... ::

:: Wednesday, July 28, 2004 ::

Anyone who knows me knows that the two things in my life you DO NOT screw with are my books and my man. Well, last night, who texted Joe's cell phone at two in the fucking morning but Jenn, his oh-I'm-lesbian-but-wait-I'm-going-to-go-ungay-to-try-and-fuck-with-your-heart-and-new-relationship ex.

I hate this girl with such a burning passion it jumps my BP into a different category altogether just seeing her name. I came dangerously close to leaving Joe twice because of her, and I will never forgive her for putting me in those positions. Joe cleared out everything that ever had to do with her at my request, and now that I finally had the house and computer free of that piece of shit slut, she, apparently not understanding a pretty direct order, awhile ago, of "leave me alone, I don't want to talk to you" (she promptly replied with "I thought you had more RESPECT for yourself and your true happiness, Joe), decides to wake us both up, claiming that she needed a piece of music played on the piano and Joe was the only person she could possibly ever think of to do it and she'd pay him for his time and "if this is Cheryl, I'm sorry". Sorry? She will be if I ever hear a trace about her in my life again. I found an unlikely ally lately, when casual conversation with a girl I knew in passing bonded us in mutual hatred...she tried to steal her boyfriend too, apparently while simultaneously trying to get Joe back from me. I sent her this email, which at time of blogging she has yet to read. If she knows what's good for her, she'll take it to heart and vanish for good.

Jenn?This is Cheryl. You know, the girl who's been in love with, and taking care of, the man you royally screwed over? There's a few things that need to be said that Joey is a little too much of a gentleman to say to a lady. He held my anger back before, but he is so livid with you right now, he gave me free reign to finally get some things off my chest.

First thing, try the fucking phone book, under "piano". You insult my intelligence if you really think I'm going to believe he is the only musician a reasonably smart person can track down to play whatever the hell it is you need played. It's really pathetic, whatever you're playing at.

Secondly, I don't really know where in living hell you get the stones to message the man I'm marrying at 2 am in the fucking morning on a weeknight after an email that says "This has to end, Jenn, goodbye" after REPEATEDLY being told he didn't want anything further to do with you, and THEN sending the reply that you did. True happiness, you bitch? True happiness? You want to talk about true happiness? How about when you left him for a girl you'd been cheating on him with? How about the mind games you bounced off of him? How about the lies? Yeah, real 'happiness' there. You are grasping at straws so hard it's sickening.

I wrote you letters before, reasoning letters, asking you from one woman to another to please respect what I had and get on with your own life, but Joey convinced me not to send them, that he would take care of getting you out our of our lives. I believed him, but then I didn't know how ignorant you were of simple concepts like "leave me alone". And you know what else? I'm not the only one who feels this way. There is at least one other girl I personally know that feels this same fury towards you, for the same reasons...let me just tell you this, Jenn - if you want to stay out of trouble, I would advise you stay away from attached men. Period. You aren't slick.

Listen, Joey is dead to you. He doesn't exist. Lose his fucking phone number. Lose his email address. I have loved him and stood beside him through everything this year. I have healed the wounds you ripped in him on your way out the door. I have been his confidante, best friend, lover, and soul mate. Joey loves me, more than he's ever loved anyone in his entire life. He doesn't want you, he doesn't need you, and he never will again. We are getting married.

I sure as hell hope that's clear enough to you, because if I so much as see your initials on a piece of paper ever again, you and I are going to have some serious discussion, and it isn't going to be on the internet. And don't *even* bother to reply to this email, whatsoever. I know it takes two to tango, but I also know you damn well knew better and have a rich social history of homewrecking. Joey turned everything that ever had to do with you over to my control as a gesture of faith...lets just say there isn't a single momento of your time with him in our home anymore. And you know what? It's going to stay that way.

Ciao, Jenn. Have fun wrecking someone else's home.

:: Fox 7/28/2004 08:14:00 AM [Say what?] ::
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