Monday, May 14, 2007

Welcome to Moody Monday

I kinda want to hit something.

Maybe romance and friendship simply can't mix. We all know it's a scenario fraught with danger, but don't you find yourself in situations now and then that make it seem possible, if not downright desirable?

I'm not even talking about falling in love with a friend or trying to be friends with The Boy or any of those sitcom clich├ęs.

Sorry, Kellys of the world, Kelley is doing nothing to advance your cause. Maybe it's that extra E that throws everything out of balance. Maybe I shouldn't paint all Kellys with the Kelley brush.

Here's the thing: I'm a small person inside who mostly feels compelled to be the bigger person on the outside. I will secretly throw shameful, selfish, petulant little tantrums in my own head (my brother is laughing right now. Please note that siblings are exempt from displays of false civility) and cry and whine and... outwardly, I'll be gracious, reasonable and hospitable.

So when Kelley spends all her time with The Boy, I'm in a state. I know they're best friends. I know I'm Marin-come-lately. I know I can't come between them and shouldn't begrudge them their time. But I don't have to be happy about it.

And when Kelley says she'll call Saturday night and doesn't, and then (having missed Saturday) some time this week and doesn't, I know it's not like we bought tickets, gassed up the car and put on our best clothes and then she flaked; it's just a phone call. But I don't have to be happy about it.

And when I email her on Friday and say, "Hey, I know you're not drinking, but do you want to go grab a bite tonight or something?" and she says, "Bummer. The Boy is taking me out for pizza," I don't have to be happy about it.§

I'm not sure I'm allowed to be mad or hurt about any of this, even though I kinda am. And that brings its own variety of angst, because I *know* if I say something, the answer is, "Well, The Boy and I are best friends. We've been best friends for fifteen years," and she'd only be right.

[SUMMARY: I am a bad girl. I'm not sure I care.]

BUT... when Kelley calls Friday night and says, "The Boy's softball game wasn't cancelled like he thought so we can hang out for a little bit until he's done," I think the little twitch that develops under my right eye has some validation.

And when she reveals to Favourite Bartender that The Boy isn't even taking her out for pizza, he just said, "Maybe we can order a pizza or something when I get home," that's a little worse, isn't it?

And when she spends all our brief time together Friday night telling me she hung out with The Boy all week, doing nothing in particular, but couldn't take the time to call me last Saturday or "some time this week" because she was busy sitting on the steps with The Boy#, that's a little upsetting, right?

And when we had specific plans for this Saturday that waited only on a call from Kelley to say she was done with a Saturday morning work meeting and she never called and I went to Favourite Bar Saturday night to see if Sex Toy might be willing and able and Susie and Brooks and Pete and Kris all took the time to tell me that Kelley and The Boy were in earlier and now it's Monday morning and I still haven't heard a peep and I'm hurt hurt hurt and being hurt sucks because tough girls don't cry and all this girly emotional shit doesn't sit well with me so I'm starting to get mad to mask the petty little hurt girl sniffling in the corner of my mind I'm allowed a growl or two, right?

[SUMMARY: Validation, people. I'm looking for validation.]

*sigh*

*growl*

I'm pretty straighforward, but rarely confrontational. If Kelley calls me, I'll tell her I'm upset, but it doesn't seem right to call her solely for the purpose of telling her I'm upset. So I'm stuck in this same-shitstorm-different-day world.

I wish I didn't like to talk so much. Hermit is looking like a pretty good career path right now.

So, OK, thanks for letting me vent. Don't worry about me. There was knitting (I even F'd an O this weekend. Not Stupid Blanket, no, but an O was F'd nonetheless) and fresh ink and a nice breakfast with a Drunken Knitter and a trip to the orchid farm. All this will be explored in time.

For today, I'm going with pissy and unreasonable.

Seems like a good choice for a Monday.

*growl*

*sigh*

p.s. -- The preceding message was brought to you by the number four. Now go check out Red's blog. She YouTubed the Eddie Izzard flag bit for your edification and enjoyment. It should help clear the palate of your mind of the shitstorm I have laid upon it.


FOOTNOTE (crossed): Small. I know

FOOTNOTE (other crossed): Small. I know.

§FOOTNOTE (curvy thinged): Small. I know. Really, I'm not proud of any of this.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Seriously.

FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): The answer is yes, in case you were wondering. At least I have that going for me.

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