Thursday 17th December
Gift giving was last night, Amy is going away over Christmas – skiing or ice skating or shooting polar bears or something. I didn’t pay attention. We had a pre-holiday hang round hers while her parents were downstairs watching Friday Night with Jonathan Ross on their Sky Plus Box. Money.
Thanks for the present ideas, I ended up getting her a CD and a bracelet that I bought with the help of my mother. Cringe. Nothing like late night Christmas shopping with your mother, although they were handing out free Mince Pies (is that in Capitals? Is food Capitalised?) in M&S, so it’s not all bad.
Amy looked really excited before I gave her the presents, I think she expected me to propose or something, she was almost crying with appreciation that I’d opened my wallet and dished out money for her. The bracelet had these kind of turquoise stones on it, which is her FAVOURITE COLOUR OMG, so I thought I’d be alright. She opened the card first, and read it in a manner of seconds, then kind of squealed, and got to work on the wrapping. Again, thanks Mum.
You know that split second where you can tell what someone’s thinking before they manage to hide it with a toothy grin the size of Brazil? Yeah, well in that split second with Amy, her face quite articulately proclaimed “Yuck”. She hated it. Her hug was distinctly limp, and she let the bracelet fall to the floor at one point and didn’t even notice. It dropped to the floor because she wasn’t wearing it. Amy saw fit to shrug off normal routines of displaying gratitude i.e. putting the new item on, and instead basically chucked it on the ground and spat on it. Sort of.
Not that I care.
Since that was supposed to be The Present – the thoughtful one that would make her feel like a million dollah – moving from it to the CD was always going to be a let down. ”Should have made her open the CD first”, I kept scolding myself as her pink polished fingernails tore through another layer of gold paper. ”Oh wow thanks! I actually already have this one, but give me the receipt and I can exchange it”.
Fuck.
Unsurprisingly the rest of the evening was marred by the ghosts of my rubbish presents hanging over us like evil phantoms, mocking my idiocy. Especially when she gave me a first edition A FIRST EDITION of my favourite book, and tickets to a gig next month. Then, to really make everything that tiny bit worse, to really shake my already fragile ego, she spent the whole night texting someone else. It was this constant beep beep the whole night, with her constantly giggling, and then not explaining what was so funny when I asked, “it’s kind of an in-joke”. That is the most infuriating thing ever. She said it was her friend Claire, but I when she went to the loo it beeped again and I looked. It wasn’t Claire, it was some guy called Tom.
Anyone want to go to a gig with me next month? Something tells me Amy won’t be up for it.
