"We have to all agree that there is some bad blood between Gamble and myself. As Gamble herself admits, I seem to have an impact on how she acts, feel and thinks. It is not my fault that I have such an impact on her emotions – she should be able to control her own emotions. Gamble has not shied away from making it known – publicly – that she does not want me at her wedding, nor my presence in my absence. I am very flattered by Gamble’s fixation on me as she believes my absence would be the talk of the wedding. Forget the bride and the groom: where is Pettifleur? Gamble speaks more about me then Rick so perhaps she should be marrying me instead?
I don’t hold grudges which is why I accepted Gamble’s invitation to her home with the other ladies. I had no expectations from Gamble and I was happy to bury the hatchet. I did not feel welcomed by Gamble, just as well I had the other ladies to converse with. I did not expect Gamble to ditch us ladies (in her own home) and to add salt to my wounds run off and discuss me with Lydia – my ‘bestie’.
It is very hard to watch your ‘bestie’ and your frenemie discuss your appearance with vindictive laughter. They see me wearing fashion headwear, a fierce outfit and a toned body and suddenly I am the butt of their jokes #jealousmuch. Not only do Gamble and Lydia believe my self-confidence in my body is an obsession, but Gamble apparently knows my trainer – not! Apparently I am in training to become a bodybuilder – more like shredding for the wedding (I may need the extra muscles to muster the women). How did Gamble’s “joke” at the expense of the transgender community come into this? Can’t women be fit and toned too? #viciousmuch Gamble.
Even though Gamble is bitching behind my back to Lydia, I can sense the wrath of her anger and bitterness towards me. So how does a girl accept an invitation handed over to her after all the bitching with Lydia , as well as her public reluctance to invite me to the wedding? I mean, just look at Gamble and her step-son Luke making comments at my expense. “Rip that bitch to shreds?” I guess Luke grasps that my skin, unlike the congealed plastic holding his step-mother’s together, allows me to be ripped.
Rick says, “I quite like Pettifleur… Why does Pettifleur do this? Because she perceives that you have treated her like that.” Rick is right. Gamble does treat me “like that”. The perception is reality.
I had the right to politely ask her to reconsider why she would want me at her wedding as her wedding should be a happy, important day with selected guests to celebrate a joyous occasion. It is apparent, therefore, that she had a selfish and ulterior motive to invite me. Who begs to differ?
Since when do ‘reconsider’ and ‘refuse’ herald the same meaning?
I did not refuse Gamble’s invitation. I asked Gamble to reconsider my invitation on the grounds that I was feeling humiliated, ignored, shunned and insulted.
Gamble tossing the invitation and bolting off is, in hindsight, pure gold. I have to give it to Gamble – that was bloody hilarious. What wasn’t hilarious, however, was getting my head bitten off by all of the other hungry hyenas.
Gina: “What? Why do that to her?”
Seriously Gina? Gamble bitches about me to her stepson, her dogs, her wedding planner, my ‘friend’ and the rest of the world. Why would I want to attend an event where I am not only not wanted, but, death-stared by the entire wedding reception.
Chyka: “Why now? I don’t know why Pettifleur does this. I don’t know why she thought that was the right thing to do.”
Why not now Chyka? No time would have been deemed a ‘good time’ by any of the ladies and I still would have been scrutinised. Gamble gave the ladies, their partners, their dogs, the milkman and Janet’s ex-husband (who she met literally seconds prior) their invitations before mine. Clearly, the timing was perfect. Say it in front of the other women: “Pettifleur, get f***ed.” Say it alone to Gamble: “Pettifleur, get f***ed.” Both result with the same end. I just can’t do anything right. At least I wouldn’t have been attacked callously by the other ladies if done one-on-one – my mistake.
Pettifleur xx"
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