UF-No

So, there is this thing in space that NASA is saying is a comet, but there is this guy at Harvard that says that it could possibly be an alien mothership, and if this is the case, we should be preparing, seeing that it should be coming our way by October. I don't know what preparing for alien guests would look like. I guess that depends on whether they are coming to shake our hands or to suck the blood out of our heads. Either way, I feel like if the aliens are coming, we should all stop paying our bills. What's the point? The aliens could be peace-bringers or human-hurters. Either way, I think that they would find the concept of paying one's bills to be dumb and restrictive. I don't know this for sure, but my spirit is telling me that they would have a huge issue with rents, mortgages, and student loans. On day one, I could see them globally moving to forgive these payments, right before they zapped us in our chests. Just something to think about as you budget for the next month. 

Sailing Love's Seas

It may be too early to say that the love boat that my friends and I are on is not sinking. I will say that it looks as if we have our life vests on. Whether we make it is yet to be seen. At least for now, it looks like there is smooth sailing ahead for the first time in a long time, but we know how quickly sugar can go to s&*t when it comes to these matters of the heart. 

Tiesh has a boyfriend now. It is crazy, because we have been trying to pray us up some boyfriends for at least the past five years. I remember mentioning it in my Christmas cards. I would say something like, "I pray that we find love this year." Well, "this year" has arrived for Tiesh, and she is so happy. She actually worked with him when she was a teenager. I guess there is some truth to the old idea that by middle age, you have already met or even dated the love of your life. I have gotten to talk to him on the phone, and he is super sweet. They have met each other's families, and he has visited her in New Orleans. I predict good things for them, and I am hopeful that their story leads to a chapel. Not yet, though! I need to lose about 900 lbs first and get on a better skincare regimen before I attend another wedding. 

Tortilla has a new boyfriend. They have only been together for two months, but they already have a bunch of trips planned. She says that he is very kind to her and even offers her some of his food when they go out to eat. To me, this is a good sign. If he will share his food, he will share your heart. 

Even old Nick seems to be on the right track. For the past 20 years, I have watched him carelessly and almost comedically fumble the ball when it comes to the women in his life. For all of his friends to be women, I just couldn't grasp how he seemed to show up as clueless about them in his relationships. However, at 40, he is getting his act together. He met a girl and said that he is going to ask her to be his girlfriend when they have their next date. It is around this time that things usually go south for Nick, but I am optimistic. He said that she is nice. He sent me a picture. She is pretty and looks like she has good sense. Good sense is a necessary quality for anyone Nick is going to be with, whether he realizes it or not. 

So if we all have on our life vests, Bells has on a vest, a parachute, and scuba gear. Bells is very cautious and frugal, interesting traits to have in today's dating climate. However, she is stepping out on faith and has purchased a month on a dating app. This is a big deal for Bells! She doesn't just spend money on anything. She can squeeze a penny until it turns white! But she has to see what is out there and both fortunately and unfortunately (depending on who you ask), dating apps are the best way to go. She has not had luck so far. That first round of guys is usually a dud. I am optimistic that she will get a few dates out of this. 

I, on the other hand, am simply messaging with men that I am meeting on the fatty app. This may seem pretty benign, but it is something I would not have had the guts to do even two years ago. There are no wedding bells going off, but it is nice getting to know people. 

For now, me and the homies seem to be on love's good foot and it's a nice change of pace. Hopefully, there are no icebergs ahead. 

Fearing Fear Itself

Everyone is disappointed about something in their life, I don't care who you are. I like to believe that even the rich snobs that I went to college with have a disappointment or two. I have the general ones. I wish I were a famous writer by now, and I am sad that I do not own a home. The biggest disappointment is how much my life is controlled by fear at this stage of things. 

I used to watch Oprah with my grandma when I was a kid. And I remember she did an episode with Tina Turner, and I think Patto LaBelle. You know, all of her baddie besties. I think it was her birthday episode. Anyway, they went on and on about how being old was cool because you were so sure of yourself and free. They had no desire to be 20 because being 50 or 60 was where it was at! Worrying and fear were things of the past! I guess everyone has their own experiences, because the experiences they described laughing it up with Ms. Winfrey have not been mine! 

This probably comes as no surprise, but I was a scary, fearful kid. I didn't want to get in trouble. I followed the rules. My mom gave me a long leash as a teen to do pretty much anything because she knew how scared I was of everything. Even as a kid, I was fearful of death. I was scared my grandma was going to die or my mom or even my friends. I was scared of what would happen if I got really bad grades, and then in middle school,  when my grades fell, I was scared I wasn't going to get into college. In my young adult life, the fears just got more intense. Fear of being alone. Fear of losing my apartment. Fear of being a failure. Fear of losing my job! Those of us who suffer severely from the superiority complex that is having faith will say that you can't believe in God and be fearful at the same time. That kids is a lie! I have spent many a night praying while being overwhelmed with fear! I honestly don't know any other way to pray. 

Today, I got my test results from a procedure that I had earlier in the week. I called the doctor to see if someone could go over them with me, and the doctor who answered had a bit of an attitude with me. Or maybe she didn't. Maybe my anxiety is so high that everything anyone says sounds like it has some extra heat on it. No one has called me back, and I am so overwhelmed with fear that literally all I can do to address it is write about it. I have no idea when my Patti LaBelle moment is supposed to happen; when I am supposed to kick off my designer heels and scream on the stage of my life. Knee-deep in yet another hair-raising situation, I have to say, I am fearful that the day will never come. 

God and Control

I had yet another jay-jay peek-a-boo procedure today. I showed up ready with Buddy, my emotional support stuffed sloth, in toe. I was in panic tears about 30 minutes later. You see, when plans change I flip out. I take the changes to be a sign that something bad is about to happen. The floor of my procedure was changed. I was told my doctor wasn't coming when she told me she was. I was freaking out. One more change and I was going to run out of the hospital room screaming. I just sat on the medical bed and cried. 

I will say right now, thank God for nurses. They checked on me even through they were clearly busy. I think it was clear that they had a lose canon on their hands. I was seconds away from flying out of there in my hospital gown with the rump exposed. 

"Something is not right," I said to Nurse Ethiopia, this gorgeous older Ethiopian woman who had the bad luck of being assigned to me. I explained to her my philosophy on unexpected changes. 

"Are you a Christian?" she asked, leaning on that machine that beeps. I told her I was. "Well, God is in control of everything. He changed the floor of your surgery. He change your doctor. He's in control." 

I took a deep breath and looked out the window. I could see all of Downtown Atlanta. Yes, God was in control. So when they couldn't find a vein on me anywhere to set up an IV, I sat back, held Nurse Ethiopia's hand, and sang Erykah Badu as the other lady probed my arm with the world's longest needles. This would have been the third "sign" to send me running. 

In the operating room, they let me listen to Sir Mix-A-Lot as I was being put to sleep. My doctor showed up after all, even after having a long night with other patients. Before I went to sleep, I remember telling her to twerk somethin', and when I woke up, it felt like someone had taken a power drill to my lady parts. 

Yes. God is in control. 

The Gay Divorcee pt 1: The Sex Quest

Rudith is divorcing her wife Maria and currently dating and having sex with men that she has met on Bumble. Seeing that she's been married to a woman for years, I thought she was a lesbian. Turns out she's queer. I'm going to be honest, I'm not sure what queer means. As I've said over the years, queer sounds like something bad that happens to cheese.

I had no idea that she and her wife were having issues. I couldn't tell from their annual Christmas cards. However, according to Rudith, Maria's inconsistency brings nothing but chaos, confusion, and despair to everything she touches. Couples therapy didn't work, so Rudith has kicked Maria out of the bedroom and banished her to the basement. Rudith has also created an ancestral altar to combat Maria's negative vibes. 

"I suggested an open marriage, but she said no because she never wants to do anything that makes sense!" Rudith exclaimed over the phone. She was headed back home after a quick getaway she treated herself to since her wife is out of town. 

So Rudith did what we all do when we don't know what to do: she turned to app dating. She matched with a guy the day she created her profile, went on a date, went to the guy's house and hooked up with him which officially started her campaign to have the best sex of her life. 

"I'm just playing with these women's sons for a minute," she explained. And it's working. She is very honest with the men about her situation, and as we all know, men love nothing more than lesbians and a challenge. She is clear with them about wanting strong masculine energy which has brought men who have award-winning penis and no desire to go dutch into her life. She's even being invited to exclusive members-only clubs and taken on exciting dates. It all sounds great, but I was confused on how she could be intimate with anyone else when she is still married? 

"A divorce could take two or three years and I already haven't had sex with my wife for two! Do you want me to go without sex for like five years?!"

I sometimes forget how I am the only one dedicated to a dry, sexless existence. I also forget how most people don't identify with a black and white definition of relationships, not even in a marriage. I don't believe anything is over until it's over, so you should behave accordingly or risk BAD karma. However, Rudith swears that dating and hetero- sexing is just what the doctor ordered. Literally! Her therapist is on board with her technical cheating. Even her kids have noticed the pep in her step! 

If we are going to be adults, I guess we also have to be honest about what cheating is. Are you really physically cheating if you have emotionally separated from a person? My grandma would have said yes. Rudith's shrink and Rudith say otherwise.

Also, if we are going to continue being honest adults, we also have to admit that happiness can often be the theoretical butterfly that we can not catch. Is it really wrong to run towards it even if we are technically involved in something else? Hearing about Rudith's cool makeout sessions with military men in her car makes me want to say no but I don't know. Keep in mind that I have been told often that I'm a prude. I don't know if I'd go that far, but I will say that I'm relationship conservative which I'm realizing is quickly going out of style. Things often are not cut and dry. I guess the question is as simple as it was for Sheryl Crow in her old hit song: If it makes you happy, it can't be that bad. 

Warning Signs

When I was coming home from my doctor's appointment yesterday, I noticed that the streets were literally lined with tents where homeless people were living. Atlanta has always had a large homeless population, but this was beyond anything I'd seen in my decades living here. It was interesting because the big news from the beginning of the week was that the president wanted to move the homeless out of DC. When I was fresh out of college, the mayor at the time attempted to do the same thing here in Atlanta. He went as far as to close the city's biggest shelter, build the streetcar hub in a parking lot where a lot of the homeless slept, and allow the police to harass the homeless when they weren't even doing anything. Surprise, surprise, the operation didn't work. Apparently, you have nowhere to go when you have nowhere to go. P follows all the financial news. I don't know why, it is never good news. He says that we are entering a cycle where people are not going to be hiring or firing. He says that the sign of a healthy economy is the creation of new jobs and that little to no job creation is not a good sign. 

I say all that to say that this all reminds me of the way things were right before and during the recession when I first graduated from college. What a nightmare! No one I knew was working in their field unless they were in some kind of way working in medicine. A lot of my friends got advanced degrees to live off the loan money and have something to do. I was working at the mall part-time at a clothing store while studying for my GRE, which I took twice and did INCREDIBLY poorly on. My aunty had a great job, but I still recall money being very, very tight. We were eating cheap junk and had very little cash to spare. On top of this, I remember it being really hard to find legit work, and a lot of the posts for jobs were fake. I recall a co-worker getting a gig as an assistant for a day. She did all this work just to be sent a fake money order in the mail as payment. I had rummaged up change to take the bus to interviews for serious jobs, only to get there and be told that the jobs were really sales jobs, you know, the kind where you work like a dog, sell nothing, and make no money. It mean, it was horrible! 

I feel like something is coming down the pipes in this country, and I am concerned. I am too old and have no energy. There is no way I could make it through another recession. The unsettling part is that I don't think whatever is on the way is going to be a traditional recession. I think that it is also going to be accompanied by civil and social unrest. I can smell it in the milk. There are immigration protests everywhere, and officials are openly discussing women not having the right to vote. Prices are rising like you wouldn't believe. Now add homelessness, the fear of being homeless, and a decline in available work to that, and I sense a recipe for disaster. Oh, and don't forget to throw in a teaspoon of really aggressive climate change. 

I hate to be a Negative Nancy, but when I discuss this, it is more to discuss how I am fully aware that I don't have the grit to go through 2008 again. When you a younger, hardships feel like an uncomfortable cold that will soon pass. At this age, I fully know what is up. I watch the news every day, and I predict that whatever is on the way will be solved at some point, but the answer will not be as easy as blowing your nose. Either way, we should all probably stock up on Kleenex. 

The Cray-Cray of Today

Pix told me that a woman at his job walked up to him and called him a bi&%h right to his face over a pretty benign disagreement. He had to get management involved, not just because that was crazy, but I think to also prevent him from saying or doing something that would have gotten him canned. Believe it or not, she is not going to be reprimanded for this. Her job is secure because she witnessed the manager choke the assistant manager!  

The other day, my brother came home from work and told me that while he was waiting on the train that morning, a woman got off the elevator, dropped her shorts, had no undies on, and began to run up and down the train platform while occasionally stopping to open her behind to the crowd. It was so gross that two men chased her and attempted to tackle her, but she evaded their capture until she eventually ran onto a train, pantless. 

Yesterday, I went to the doctor, and I swear to you, the waiting room was the Wild West! There was a family in the waiting room (a mom, dad, and teenage son who was the patient to be seen). The mom had some smart remark to make when anyone was called to be seen before her. Apparently, her son had been overlooked for hours. I felt annoyed with her until she went to the front desk to get an unnecessary attitude with the receptionist. It was then revealed that her son was a walk-in patient. Everyone knows that walk-ins have to wait to be seen until the doctor can see them! You always have to wait to be seen when you are a walk-in, even at the hair salon! I swear, every time Mom opened her mouth to complain, it felt like she was adding 30 minutes to everyone's wait time. On top of that, Mom continuously coughed without covering her mouth! Then there was a woman we will call TooTight. She had on the most ill-fitting, tight short set I had ever seen in my life! She had to be told twice to listen to the Spanish sitcom she was watching on her phone at full volume with her earphones in. She had this huge Stanley tumbler and went to the wall fountain to fill it up. Before doing so, she dumped some old strawberries out of the tumbler. I guess she'd had some infused water. However, after filling her cup, she left her old strawberries in the drain of the fountain instead of throwing them in the trash. 

I say all these seemingly unrelated things to ask this: have we all just given up? Have even the most minute standards of decorum and decency just gone out the window? Are we collectively not caring or going crazy? Is being out of order the new order? Is rude the new polite? How long before we are all running around our theoretical train stations with no pants on? Is it just me, or does it feel like everyone is becoming more aggressively and openly unglued? You remember how they used to say that everything you need to know you learned in kindergarten? If this is true, then the people of today must have gone to a kindergarten run by wolves! Leaving trash in the water fountain. Gross! 

Parental Persecution

I am currently getting to know a man who is divorced, and sadly, his children did not take the divorce well. Particularly his oldest son. According to him, he and his son were super close until the divorce. Now, seven years later, he and his son have gotten into a number of spats. In the recent one, his son told him that he "wasn't s*%t" and that he was never there for him. He shared with me how much this devastated him and that he feels like all he can do is pray about it because every time he tries to fix things with him, he accidentally ends up making things worse. 

Sunday was my mom's birthday and this conversation made me think about how as kids, and even as young adults (which are kids that can drink), we do not think that it is possible to hurt our parents' feelings. We do not think that it is possible, even when we are out of order, and say things to our parents that would have us in tears if someone said those very things to us. Our parents are like statues: they cannot be moved, they cannot be broken. And because of the inherent selfishness of children, the viewpoint is that parents are always trying to hurt us, regardless of the things that we have done and said. 

This is a wisdom that comes with age, when you grow past a time when you think that it is impactful in an argument to just say mean things that you don't mean. By the time I was a senior in high school, I had had it with my mother. I found her to be super critical, and I hated her boyfriend. This was the root of most of our arguments. I said an unreal amount of hurtful things to my mom, trying to get her to see that she could do better and that her man was a jerk who was ruining our lives. We also fussed over how I wanted to stay in Atlanta to go to college, and she wanted me to leave the state. I felt like she wanted me to leave so she could love her loser in peace, and the fact that she was poor and willing to take out an exhorbandent amount of loans for me to go to school was a testiment to me of how badly she wanted me gone, not how badly she wanted me to get a good education. In my eyes, my mom was a rock, but I am positive that I hurt her feelings because I know that she hurt mine. If I could go back in time, I would encourage young me to go along to get along (which is what my grandma was advising me to do the whole time) so that I wouldn't have memories of me saying cruel things to my now deceased mom. Again, wisdom that comes with age. 

This morning, Savannah posted a video of her daughter, (who puts me in mind of Strawberry Shortcake), getting on the school bus with the other kids in the neighborhood. There was a lot of smiling and waving. They seem to have a very good relationship. But as sure as that little girl's edges are laid, one day she is going to do something to hurt my friend's feelings. Maybe she will not answer her cell phone on purpose, leaving Savannah to assume she has been kidnapped, or maybe she will be super brutal and give Savannah the silent treatment. It's inevitable. But Cupcake will one day find out the same thing that my friend's son will find out and what I already know: doing so will also be very regretable. 

The Co-Sign Theory

As I try to get to know men romantically late in life, I'm learning things about them that I didn't know earlier on. Although men are universally associated with strength, I am learning that, emotionally at least, they can't handle too much. I almost want to go as far as to say that they can't handle anything at all. Pix called me negative as I told him about my day in a good mood with a happy voice. Apparently, if something is not overtly positive and sunny, it is negative, and he can't bear to hear it. This sucks, because I was hoping he would be someone I could tell anything to. I thirst to have more male friends like this, but it doesn't look like it is in the cards. 

I told P about this, and, of course, he took Pix's side. P will take any side but mine, even if the other side is covered in spiders and quicksand. I told him about how, when discussing negativity allegations with my tight-knit circle of college Instagram sisters, they told me that men can not handle anything and to reserve difficult/political/thought-provoking conversation for my female friends. 

"I wouldn't take too much stock in that," P said. "Women just co-sign on whatever other women say, even if it's wrong or they feel differently."

The example that he used was actually the one I was thinking of when he said it. Big Homie Sans had listened to me complain about being lonely for nearly 20 years. And she was always pretty supportive and encouraging. Then one day, in response to a text I had sent her  (I was texting her to tell her to call me so I could let her know that I was official with the guy I had told her about), she sent me a text that had A LOT of hurtful things in it. The main thing that she said that hurt me terribly was that she didn't understand why a guy, particularly one that was fit, would want to date me because I am so fat. Why would he want to date a girl who could die? She called me and tried to walk it back, but it was already in the air. I began to wonder if she had always felt this way, even when she was assuring me that I would find someone at some point. 

God, I hope this is an isolated example. I would hate to learn that the women in my life that I love are just being co-signers and not real, honest friends. As someone who has been the victim of a surprise intervention (by people who had no professional authority to hold one), I can tell you that honesty from friends hurts. Three of my dearest friends basically told me that they were tired of me. It was a nightmare. But I would prefer that to people just co-signing my thoughts to avoid heavy conversations. You can't have a real friendship that way, and as with the example of Big Homie Sans, the truth always comes out eventually, and it is usually always negative. 

Capricorn-ish

Meanwhile, in App-land, I matched with a guy that I am now messaging. He's divorced, has two kids, and just moved here from another state. He likes art. He seems like a cool guy. He also seems to have a foot in reality, which is why I was surprised when he said that he would love it if his partner were a water sign. Sigh. Here we go. Another one of these zodiac people. Honestly, I had to Google to see if I am a water sign or not. Of course, I am not. He said that isn't a deal breaker, just a preference. When did men start buying into this witchcraft? I hate to down anyone's beliefs, but don't they know that the zodiac is complete hogwash? Like any superstition, it has the power that you give it. This is just something else to add to the list. First, my weight was seen as a negative by men. Okay, fine. I can see that. But now I am being judged based on my own birthday? Something I have no control over at all? I mean, why get to know me at all? Shouldn't the zodiac tell you all you need to know? I just Googled the characteristics of a Capricorn, and it says that we are focused. That should tell you that the astrology doesn't astrologize with this thing. Anyone will tell you that I am panickingly all over the place! Anywho, like I said, he seems like a cool guy. I will keep you posted. 

App'ed

A few months ago, I thought that I was done with the dating apps because I had found such a great guy. A few weeks ago, I vowed to never go back on the app because I was so disappointed things didn't work out with the "great guy". Now I'm back out of sheer, old-fashioned desperation. This is the third time. Let's pray that three times really is a charm. 

Admittedly, things aren't going so well two days back. The first day I matched with a guy. We were having a good chat through the app before he asked, "What do I need to do to see what's under your dress?" I let him know I wasn't really looking for that. He apologized. I wished him well. Convo ended. Yesterday, I matched with this highly sexy man. We too had a great conversation until he started talking about sex. Oddly, he said he hadn't had sex in nine months. He was on some type of sex fast to clear his head that he's ready to break. This time I was sad. I didn't want our conversation to end, but I could feel the end coming. I let him know I wasn't sexually active. He then proceeded to tell me he didn't consider anal or oral sex "actual sex". I was dumbfounded!! How could he believe something so ridiculous at his big age?? Conversation ended. 

Sadly, I expect more of the same today. Each time I go back on the app, the men get more sexually assertive. I mean, does anyone want a relationship anymore or is that over? Maybe past a certain age, people have become so jaded by their horrible relationship experiences that they jump backward into some type of sexual default setting. My not being on board with this is proving to be a pretty large barrier for me. I wish it weren't this way, but I don't think I'm ready for a dating world where anal sex is considered as casual as a kiss. Perhaps I'm old-fashioned, but that just feels like too much for me. 

Maybe the app gods will smile on me and send me an old-fashioned man who likes hand holding and Lifetime movies. Here's hoping! 

The Dress

Long ago, I discovered that it is a bad idea to ever, ever share music that you love with a guy that you like. When it inevitably goes south, you will never be able to listen to the music again, at least not without crying. I can't tell you how much 90s R&B I've had to let go of because I attached it to a loser that sucked all the beauty out of it. I am wondering if a similar thing has happened with this dress that I bought earlier this summer. 

It is hard to believe that just a few months ago, I thought that me and my friendboy were going places. We had great conversations, and I just enjoyed talking to him. Now, we have sunk like the Titanic. But before we hit the iceberg, I bought this gorgeous maxi dress online that I was hoping to wear when I met him in person. We planned to meet when he finished this big work project. Promises, promises. Now, I am pretty sure that the meeting that was never scheduled is canceled, and I am not sure what this means for the dress. Does it have bad man juju all over it like my old Jodeci playlist?

When Big stood Carry up at the altar, she kept the Vivian Westwood dress she was supposed to get married in in a box in her closet. My dress is not that grand, but it is adorable. It is a pink maxi dress that fades into fuchsia and purple tie-dye towards the bottom. Cute, right?! I have never worn it, waiting for the never-happening meet and greet. Now I don't know where I should wear it or even if I should wear it. What if it holding bad relationship bad luck?

This may sound silly to you, but I know there is something to it. Clothing, like houses and cemeteries, holds spirits and the disappointment of failed intentions. However, I am thinking that I may be able to salvage this adorable frock based on the fact that I stocked this dress before I even met friendboy. For two years, I would visit this dress frequently online. It was way too expensive for me to buy, and never went on sale. Shortly after I started talking to friendboy, I went online, and it was finally marked down to something I could swing. Does having a prior relationship with the dress cancel out the juju?

Honestly, I am not made of money. I really need to wear everything I buy, even if the big, bad wolf pooped on it or something. I just don't want to think about the disappointment of friendboy while I have it on. I also don't want the energy of the dress to repel the man of my dreams while I have it on. Regardless, I plan on wearing it at some point, even if it's just to listen to "Forever My Lady" on repeat in my room. 

Starved 2: The Thirsty Games

I had another weird dream that I feel illustrates how starved I am for affection. Apparently, I was part of some type of sexual relay race. The dream kind of played out like an episode of The Amazing Race. Couples would do freaky stuff (my memory is hazy, but I remember one couple doing a naked yoga class), then they would run and pass the baton on to the next person. I felt super excited in my dream, eager to see what my thing was going to be. But when the baton got to me, of course, I had to do all this really hard stuff to get moving. I recall having to take a car off a tow truck. Then I had to go to a department store to find something sexy to wear. Even in my dream department store, there was a very limited plus-size section. Then I had to run across town, all while still being excited for what was to come, but what was to come never came. By the time I showed up winded and overworked to my little situation, I breathlessly opened the door, then woke up! I even get screwed in my dreams while trying to get screwed! Plies wasn't around this time, but the naked yoga couple was a married couple I went to college with. Either my subconscious is begging me to find a partner, or this is all a side effect of watching nude scenes in Tubi movies. 

Midlife

Is there any test I can take to confirm I'm in a midlife crisis? Of late, I have woken up in the middle of the night to cry, listen to jazz, and write emo poetry. I have not been this emotional since middle school. There was always something to be emotional about in middle school, but that's only because every day was a fresh hell. Plus, I had just started getting periods, and the sound of someone breathing made me want to body slam them. I'm one poem away from taking this sad act on the road. Help! 

Accountability/Smountability

I can really get on my high horse when it comes to my friendships. I consider myself a good friend, and pride myself on always being available for a friend in need. I try to be the friend that I would want someone to be to me. That's why it pains me to say that there have been some friendships where I really, really dropped the ball. My friendship with Bri is one of these friendships, and I dropped the ball so badly that the part of me that HATES taking accountability wants to leave the ball where it is and run. However, my dedication to therapy will not allow this to stand, so I have to apologize for my badfriendness, even if the friendship does not regenerate. 

Today, I was on Facebook looking at my friend Wanda's page and saw that she is friends with Bri. That little icon was in the corner of Bri's picture, indicating that we are not friends on the site. This made me sad. When we were freshmen in college, we were inseparable. When you saw her, you saw me. Now we don't talk and we don't even have a surface, social media friendship. Unfortunately, this is all my fault. 

I have been thinking of Bri a lot lately because she is still really good friends with one of our mutual friends. Mutual keeps me posted on the things going on in Bri's life, which I appreciate. She is doing so well, and I am so proud of her. But I can not say that it does not sting that the things that she tells me I do not know firsthand. Years ago, when I should have originally addressed this, I had to come to terms with the fact that I had been a bad friend to Bri which sucks, because I truly love her, even today. I put other friendships before ours, and I recently told Mutual I was finally ready to address that with Bri.

"Well, apologizing for what you said about Rosie would be a good start," Mutual said. I was confused. I hadn't thought about Rosie in years! 

"Rosie? What?" I asked.

"You remember when you said Rosie BLLLLLLLEEEEEEPPPPP?"

Hearing those cruel words I said about Rosie 20 years ago literally made my eyes cross. I nearly threw the phone across the room! Have you ever had a moment so bad, I mean BAD, that your body and mind go into some weird protection mode and acts like it never happened? That's how I feel about the THE INCIDENT with Rosie. Well, it really wasn't an incident. I said some inexcusable, unprovoked, jealousy -fueled f*&ked up s/+t about Rosie that was so horrible that there was no walking it back. Once I said it, out friendship was toast, and she was one of Bri's best friends. Oddly enough, they are not friends anymore, but she is still mad at me about it. That's how bad it was. 

It never dawned on me that the fall of me and Bri's friendship had anything to do with Rosie. I was prepared to own how bad of a friend I was to Bri, not address the Rosie stuff. Addressing Rosie would make me have to address some very dark parts of my character that I would like to believe I've outgrown. Rosie represents a me I don't want to think about and like to play like never existed. 

When I talk about being on a high horse, I'm not joking. I've called people who don't want to have hard conversations cowards, and here I am being as cowardly as they come. I shall keep you posted on any progress with this. Whether I want to or not, a conversation has to be had.