Posts Tagged 'friendship is a battlefield'

Strange memories.

Sometime around 9pm last night, I got a strong urge to go to the grocery store. I’d eaten the “Mexplosion” salad from Greenleaf for four days in a row. Don’t get me wrong, each of them were delicious, but they are also $14 dollars a pop [with a diet coke and tax] – and why the fuck should I pay $14!!!!! for a salad [which doesn’t even have any meat component]?   So anyhow, I am on my way to the grocery store and all of a sudden, soon as I pulled into the store parking lot, I am overcome with flashbacks to my second summer home from law school.

It was a Saturday [I was supposed to go to a pool party with a guy I was in lurve with back then] in the weee early morning when my friend S. called to tell me that her dad died. Which fact was totally fucking trippy because 1) she left the msg on my voice mail, which necessitated a very awkward call back from me, and 2) I had seen her dad like two days before, and he was totally fine. Seriously, TOTALLY FINE.

I picked up S. from her parents and we went to the parking lot above the grocery store and smoked a pack of cigarettes each. Then we went to CPK. I remember S. ordering a glass of wine, and how strange lunch was because sometimes we’d forget that her dad had just died and we’d start having fun, and it would just be a regular day out [except my lungs hurt like a mother effer from all the smoking] until all of a sudden S. would say something like “my dad is fucking dead” and I’d say something like “yeah” and then she’d say “what I am I supposed to do” and then I’d respond, “I’m sorry, I have no idea.” I may have also suggested more wine.

S.’s dad was the first dead body I had ever seen. And at his funeral, my mom told me that she wants all the flowers at her funeral to be peach and pink – which I promised her I would make happen. Even though in my mind it seemed unrealistic, since it is not like I can direct the funeral mourners to only send peach and pink flowers. Plus, I hate the color peach.

I hope S. is doing well these days. We still talk [she doesn’t live in Los Angeles] on occasion, and she says she is happy, but I never can tell.

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My friends are so depressed.

The end of summer, the plausible election of McCain/Palin [the Horror!!], the semi-tragic death of a man I don’t actually know, wall-street meltdown woes and the shit box of a day known as Monday have collided and caused a big bang of depression among my friends…and now me. 
I exchanged emails with not one, not two, not three, but FOUR of my peeps about how glum they are feeling.  And now I am thinking depression may be contagious, and I just caught it.  Dang, I feel sad. 
In the spirit of depression, here are three things that suck::
1.  I have to have my wisdom teeth removed.   ALL of them.  AT ONCE.  My dentist who I have been avoiding for a really long time because I did not to hear such news informed me today that if I don’t – really bad things are about to go down in my upper left quadrant.  Seems like one of my bastard wisdoms is invading the space of my other teeth.  It is basically like Iraq/Kuwait circa 1991 in my mouth right now.  And since my mouth is not a member of OPEC, the government isn’t coming to my rescue.
2.  So remember over the weekend when I was going to buy a loft?  Well, maybe not so much anymore as I may be saying bye-bye to my down payment.  Fucking stock market. 
3.  Seriously, can it be that McCain will win?  I have only just accepted this possibility four minutes ago, and it makes me a little nauseous.
ex girlfriend called me up
alone and desperate
on the prison phone
they want to give her seven years
for being sad

Working things out.

Certain Someone said on Friday that I have more “ex-friends” than anyone he knows. Thankfully, at least for now, he is not one of them. We have [Or rather, I think we have – Certain, please confirm] gotten past the debacle that was Friday’s Obama/Fairey Fundraiser Party. Phew. Friendship back on.

But alas, where one problem is solved, another is required to spring up in its place [or so it seems]. My roommate, the same one that has a brand new fully loaded turbo Porsche Cayenne parked in our driveway, bounced her rent check. And now, all of a sudden she is impossible to get a hold of. Very peculiar. Especially considering she was supposed to move out last weekend, but all her stuff is still here. It in unlikely that she is in danger. It is, however, VERY likely that she went to Vegas and re-married the husband she just got a divorce from.

And work! Oh lordy, there is so much of it. [See post below]

Parties are fun.

I have not yet quite recovered from last nights debaucheries, but tonight’s party [at Chuck e Cheeses!!!/Medusa Lounge] calls. And when a party calls, I generally answer.

I am slightly nervous about the evening ahead, as I am hanging with some friends I have not seen in a while, and one potential attendee has some probs with me. We shall see.

May the force be with me.

Will provide deets tomorrow.

People are difficult.

A few days ago I began a conversation with my friend, Sad Desperation. As I sat down to blog about our initial conversation with the [obvious] conclusion that wanting to feel love/loved makes otherwise sane and balanced people completely bat shit crazy, I started to reflect on my own man/love driven insanity – a sad depressing thought in itself, and one that I will come back to.

Sad Desperation’s story is that she is in “love” with a guy*. Interestingly enough though, while she “loves” him, she is very hard pressed to describe anything positive about him, except that he is smart…and good in bed. Which frankly, isn’t all that special. Lots of people are smart. And enough people are good in bed that it should not be a major factor in liking someone [although, I do think it a valid reason to NOT like someone].

The latest saga of Sad Desperation is based on the age old question:: is he my boyfriend? [Note to the Ladies:: If you have to ask the question, he probably is not.]
I don’t want to delve too deeply into the ridiculosity of the story, but basically, instead of taking the reasonable approach of saying “hey, umm, guy I am sleeping with on a very regular basis, are you my boyfriend?” she decided that a better [and totally crazy] approach would be to hatch a cockamamie scheme whereby his feelings would theoretically be revealed. [Unsurprisingly, a totally stupid plan that did not work.]
In the end, the only thing that was revealed is that a) she is certifiable and b) he is an idiot [for reasons completely unrelated to Sad Desperation’s latest drama]. And yet still, despite the fact that the question continues to gnaw at Sad Desperation [so much so that we had two hours of phone conversation and 10,000ish words of email exchange on the topic] she won’t bring it up. Because why? Because she does not want to “seem desperate.” Any yet, she has no qualms about acting/BEING totally desperate.
Which brings me to my ultimate question. Why are people [I include myself in this] so fucking stupid when it comes to relationships?
Sad Desperation isn’t even that into the guy at issue. But for reasons neither she nor anyone else can understand, she needs him to like her. Her whole being, her value as a person, depends on this ONE guy she doesn’t even see herself with in the long run wanting her. Clearly, this is fucked up. And trust me, I know. I too have in the past become fixated on men who I thought [actually, I didn’t think it, I KNEW it] were useless.
T/S, who I dated a while back [for a refresher, see here, here and here], is a perfect example. He, by pretty much any measure [except maybe the good in bed one] was a dud [Seriously, I kid you not. Example:: He had a fucking dolphin tattoo**]. AND YET, I was totally sad sauce when he didn’t want to hang out with me. When I look back on it [which I was caused to do following my initial conversation with Sad Desperation], I thought about myself, “you moron, why Why WHY did you waste your energy on that?”
And that is what I wish I could say to Sad Desperation. Not because I am trying to be mean, but because that is what I think is the truth. But instead, I will say, “Don’t worry, I am sure he likes you. You are after all, awesome.” And while she *is* awesome, I am actually pretty sure that he does NOT like her.
Life is so needlessly convoluted.
* I don’t think she is in LOVE love…more like she loooooves him. As in, she loooooves having sex with him. But does she like him as an actual person? Not so much.
** T/S claimed the dolphin was a shark. In either case, it was stupid.
If you have to ask, You’ll never know

Old Friends, New Friends and Mondays

Seriously, what the fuck is up with Monday?

I woke this morning at 6 am, which is a problem in itself. Inexplicably, I felt like total crap. Not sickly crap, but emotional crap. I did a quick mental/body scan and came to the conclusion that nothing was wrong. My life has been almost alarmingly drama free lately [why should it be alarming to me that my life is drama free? Not clear]. No aches and pains to speak of. No majorly dreadful work awaiting me at the office. No stressful meetings/presentations to be made. Whats more, I felt kind of …happy. And yet, horribly sad. Confused? Me too.

Clearly, there is no cause for what I was/am feeling except that it is Monday. And Monday is just psychologically painful and fucked up.

Damn you Monday.

On to new friends – I think I just made one. I went out on Friday with Certain Someone with his friend Card Sharp [because she loves/rocks at poker], who was totally awesome. Her willingness to allow me to order copious amounts of cheese over the course of our tapas style dinner made me like her, but it was her insistence on Jack Daniel shots that won me over. Drunkenness was achieved and numbers have been exchanged.

And oh yes, the old friends. The ones that I have been neglecting. My goal is to try to see them more frequently than I have been, which is pretty close to almost never. Thankfully, this lack of friendliness will be remedied come Saturday when I am to attend one of such friend’s birthday parties at…wait for it…Chuck e Cheeses. Interestingly, Former Friend will be in attendance, and so The Drama may very shortly be re-introduced into my life.

Update:: Misery loves company.

Last night I wrote about a certain situation described here. Today, I have an update.

Feeling a little distraught/insecure about the state of my friendship with Allegedly Sad Friend, I fired off an email to test the waters.

The waters, as it turns out, are just fine thank you. Allegedly Sad Friend replied with haste, and indicated that he missed me and wanted to hang out stat like. Allegedly Sad Friend, did, however, seem a little sad – as Insecure Friend had indicated.

In light of these latest developments, I have updated the chart.

A very important lesson has been learned as result of all this::  Charts are awesome.

Friend Drama Chart 2.0

Friend Drama Chart 2.0