Thursday, February 22, 2007

What a Difference a day makes....

I've moved! You guys are the best - all the archives have been moved over as well, so please update your sites accordingly. Or not - you know, whatever floats your boat.

Wednesday, February 21, 2007

Flirting with risk is not my nature, madam

A Poll for the three of you: Would you follow me (meaning: update your links, etc) to WordPress? Tell me true, now.

Monday, February 19, 2007

Having reached the point where beating a dead animal does, in deed, make me feel better

A little while ago, I wrote a post about someone making the grave error of displaying thoughtless, unfounded cruelty to my family. To re-cap: Someone said mean, untrue things to me about Scott. I calmly left the scene, went home, waited a couple of days, and wrote them a point-by-point lesson of how they made a mistake, and exactly what to put where if they thought they had a leg to stand on at that point. Profound apologies, or apologies of any kind were not forthcoming, but I decided to be the Bigger Person and make the first move towards a relationship that is over a decade old.

My mistake. Remember second grade when people either were your friend (picked you for games, didn't laugh at your funny clothes) or weren't (closed the huddle when you walked by, laughed at you, asked pointed questions about what clothes you were wearing and sneered at your reply)? I'm starting to think those really were the good old days, despite the funny smell of construction paper and paste and the conspicuous lack of martinis - actually, imagine a bunch of buzzed second grade--- see, that is why we don't have children. Point being, things were simple - second graders don't have to think back over a decade of a relationship to see if they are worth salvaging over a few broken crayons, nor do they need to project much farther into the future than recess.

There I go again, imagining second-graders careening around on Yoohootinis, losing my train of thought. Friends, friendships - and the prickly fact that some relationships have lifespans. I'd prefer to not only keep the (few) great friends that I'm already lucky enough to have, and hopefully develop meaningful new relationships in future.

Sadly, this last week or so has really impressed on me the fact that this person simply doesn't care or doesn't value our history enough to change their behavior towards me. How so? Invariably the following happens if we're out together:

-Complaining about Scott - well, attempting to complain about Scott.
-Multiple snide comments about the fact that I have cats, how they cause them to 'die' every time they walk into our house, have I 'gotten rid of' them yet, etc. Yes, allergies are real and serious...guess what? Scott vacuums our hardwood floors religiously, sometimes twice a day, and we run an air filter. Guess what else? It really, really irks me when people make remarks about animals, any animal, but especially a pet, as though they are disposable objects.* I've expressed all of this clearly, and none of it seems to have made an impression. In the last twenty-seven years, there have been only two months where I have been without at least one pet, be it cat(s), dog(s), mice, fish, rabbits, ducks, chickens, turtles or frogs. In short, love me, love my menagerie.
*Actual remark made to young, impressionable person: "Oh, don't get me all excited...they didn't get rid of their cats", followed by a heavy sigh that implies that would be an ideal scenario for them.
-Never, ever, ever picking up a tab, shorting us time and again.
-Expecting us to go over and above for them and their family, yet being unwilling to even meet us in the middle.
-Crying poor to me or our friends after we've gone out somewhere (because we can't go to my house, it being contaminated with The Cat) the week after we accompanied them to spend hours selecting and purchasing non-essential, high-priced home decor items/clothes/etc.
-Fostering the Me First and the Gimme-Gimmes in your kids and trying to pass it off as their 'natural style' - I'd like to think I have some clue of my own natural style, but I have to live within our means. This doesn't mean I don't have good taste and lots of ideas for our entire household. However, these things are not essential. Wants verses needs. I want to completely revamp my yard, I need to wait and save money, despite how much I hate the view when I look out my window.

In short, I've tired of always being The Givers. I've no more time, patience, money or energy to waste on the whole situation, to say nothing of Scott, who is thoroughly fed up. The last straws weren't big things, just a(nother) weekend where we politely carted them over hill and dale, tried to ignore the little things in hopes that someday they'd change. Followed by this past weekend where I: Waited hours while they deliberated on overpriced stuff, bit my tongue in the face of unbelieveable selfishness and in the hopes of avoiding some truly unpleasant scenes, aaaaaannnd I've just put myself into a coma with The Boring.

I came home with that nice, acidy burning feeling of 'why did I put myself out there again? I'm so dissapointed that no one listens to a word I say, ever!', and declared to no one in particular
"That is IT. I am officially OVER _______ (name withheld for no particular reason, they aren't especially internet-savvy) and their lame behavior - we are NOT hanging out with them one-on-one ever again", walked outside and started looking for my dead horse. Now comes the hard part: I have to avoid them, without seeming like I'm avoiding them, a task that will be almost as awkward as this entire post.