Because I can’t help the gossip in me…

After the phone call last night, I spent some time reflecting on the things that I have said and done to people in my past — mostly the stuff I’m not proud of, like the way I blew up at my ex-best guy friend a year and a half ago. It got me thinking about some of the other people that I have known in life and so I randomly started googling their names. I was shocked and yet not surprised at one of the searches that came up for this person.

Since she has quite an unusual name, so there were all of four hits. Three of the four were her, and one was just a random list of names.

1) She won the title of “Miss” in an all-ages beauty pageant in October. First of all, at 27 years old, who still competes in beauty pageants? Upon opening the article and viewing the accompanying photo with all the girls decked out in flashy tiaras and evening gowns, I recognized another one of the girls in the photo as her boyfriend’s daughter. I was not surprised by that, since she can’t even go to the bathroom alone, it only made sense that she came up with the idea that they do it together. Upon a closer look at the captions, I was shocked to discover that the woman who one the title of “Ms.” was none other than her boyfriend’s ex-wife, and mother of said daughter. This is the same woman who physically attacked my ex-friend on her birthday and has had multiple restraining orders filed against her. I guess they all get along now.

2) The second was a link to her wedding registry at Dillard’s. So apparently she’s getting married to her boyfriend. The same boyfriend with the daughter and psycho ex-wife and all the drama that it brought to her life that she always questioned if it was worth it, and always drew the conclusion that it wasn’t. The same boyfriend who, in the 3 years I have known her, she has broken up with at least a dozen times (and who knows how many more before that — before I actually met her, but heard the stories through my ex-best guy friend, which is how I know her). The same boyfriend, who upon each breakup got particularly nasty, calling her things from a dirty slut to a drug-addict (both of which weren’t even partially true). The same boyfriend, who if she had read It’s Called a Breakup Because It’s Broken after any one of those horrendous breakups, she would have stopped going back to. These two are getting married. Married. As if the divorce rate wasn’t already high enough.

I wonder if they need a photographer?