Tuesday, January 10, 2012

The Art of Friendship

This one is is dedicated to my best friend, Karen.

I met Karen in the fifth grade at St. Susanna. She transferred in from another school like I had two years prior. We were both kind of the outcasts of our class, and I think that's why we got along as well as we did. I had transferred to St. Susanna in the midst of my third grade year, and it was pretty much a shit show from the word, go. Up until that point, I had attended a much smaller school in the middle of an even smaller country town, that still had nuns teaching and running the school (OMG). Transferring wasn't a pleasant transition for me. To make matters worse, I had a horrible stutter, so every time I so much as opened my mouth to speak in class, I would repeat the same words over and over and over again. At the time, it was so humiliating; it was such an gawky, awkward time in my life. Looking back at all of it, all I can do is laugh at the some of the things that went on then.

When Karen first arrived to class that fateful day in the fifth grade, we clicked instantly. We hung out in and out of school, never fought, and always had each other backs. Suddenly, all of the other crap that was happening around me really didn’t matter anymore - we had each other to lean on. Oddly enough, we both ended up at Mason after grade school (while all of our other classmates went off to private high schools) and I was just relieved to be attending the same high school as my friend.

In the middle of my high school high school career, right before my junior year, my parents broke the news to me that we would be moving again, which meant I would have to transfer schools again. Needless to say, I was devastated and extremely nervous about starting another new school.

Well, I survived (gasp!). In fact, my time at Williamsburg was pretty fantastic. Time went on, and naturally, the two of us eventually got caught up in our own busy lives. New people and new friends arrived, but Karen and I managed to remain close to one another. Even if we weren't constantly talking or hanging out as much as we did in the good ole' days, our friendship continued to grow over the course of the next fifteen years. We we continued to be there for each other; she was there for me during my tough times, and I was there for hers. Karen has helped me through some of my toughest days.

True friendship is realizing that even if you aren't able to talk to each other for a certain period of time, that a certain unspoken understanding remains; that beautiful security of knowing that you can simply pick up right where you left off - without any explanation or grudges - and laugh and carry on, as if no time had ever gone by. It must come with longevity. I am blessed to have such a fantastic person in my life; she really brings out the very best in me. Oh, and she really makes me laugh. Out loud.

Friday, January 6, 2012

Ode to the Haters

This one is for all the haters that we've all grown to love...

Like that stupid girl at the bar that keeps giving you the stink eye from across the room (ewwwww!!!). Or when you just find out that someone you know has just talked some serious smack about you behind your back. Both of these scenarios have happened to me, as I’m sure they have happened you at some point.

Let's start with scenario one:

About a year and a half ago, I was out at Pachinko's with some girlfriends for a birthday celebration and this girl that was sitting at the bar in front of where we were standing/drinking/talking/dancing was clearly pissed off that one of my girlfriends was talking to her "man friend". Now keep in mind, at first glance, this chick may have looked as though she was your typical grade a classless bimbo, but this one...this one was super special. This girl had a knack for finding just the right clothes for that pathetic wannabe bad girl look that she was trying so hard to achieve when she reached for those clothes earlier that evening, looked into her precious little mirror, and said to herself, "Yep...this is totally the look I'm going for." This girl reeked of desperation. She was rockin' a half-priced Charlotte Russe corset (about four sizes too small) accompanied with a sweet pair of knock off designer jeans (muffin top runneth over) and a very interesting blend of mandarin make-up that made Snooki look like an Albino. Yes, the only thing this chick spent any real money on was her buy-one, get-one DD botched boob job, which unfortunately, wasn't getting much support from her ensemble.

Now, normally, I try not to pay much attention to people like this.  The whole point of going out is to have a good time with friends; not to get caught up in all of the drama that certain people like to create in their heads when they're out drinking.

Like this girl.

Apparently, sparked with jealousy, the "fashionista" proceeded to whip out her turbo-sized can of Aqua Net hair spray (how the hell did that thing even fit in her purse?) and spray us directly in our faces, all while looking at the mirror behind the bar, watching and smirking and spraying some more. This went on for a full 45 seconds. After she was done, she nonchalantly placed the can on the bar, gave the mirror one last look, and obnoxiously grabbed her crooked boobs. Like this was a normal thing to do in the middle of a crowded bar. Really?

Now, I didn't say anything, knowing in my heart that if the dumb skank would have had any kind of personality whatsoever, her man friend wouldn't have needed to engage himself in conversation with my group. And I’m not really the type of girl to be blatantly confrontational with strangers. It’s just not my style. But I am the type of girl that may like to engage in occasional secret revenge. So, at some point, I contemplated snatching her beat up iPhone (that she kept leaving at the bar), quickly running to the bathroom to take pictures of my ass, upload them to her Facebook and Twitter accounts, and text them to all of her contacts, BUT I didn't - and I didn't have to. Karma came back to bite her in the ass because later I happily watched as she reached for her bar stool, which "slipped" out from underneath of her and tumbled to the ground with a hard SMACK. Ouch.

On to scenario two:

A few weekends ago, a friend called me to tell me that a woman that she met at a Christmas party was talking some pretty serious smack about me. What was truly odd was that I hung out with this person all of one time over a year and a half ago, so I didn't really know her at all. This woman knew things about my personal life that she had to have gone out of her way to seek out. Maybe she had me tailed by a private investigator? Perhaps she had my phone lines tapped? Anyway, if you really think about it, I should have been flattered. Here was this woman, after all of this time, spending her nights at Christmas parties, getting herself all riled up with what I was doing, and I hadn't even so much as batted an eyelash.

Anyway, my friend "kindly" put the woman back in her place, letting her know - point blank - that she didn't particularly care for the inappropriate things that were being said about me. I really do appreciate the fact that my friend stuck up for me, and I am extremely lucky to have such fantastic people in my life that have my back in times such as these.

Yes, there really is nothing quite like that feeling of just finding out that someone doesn't like you (*tear*). But one question still plays in my mind: why in the hell did this woman care about what I was doing now, after all of this time? Isn't it time to...I don't know...maybe move on...after a certain point? When it comes down to it, either you like me or you don't. And while I will admit that I tend to have a mouth on me and say whatever comes to mind, and yes, that has gotten me into quite a bit of trouble now and again, I'm not going to change for anyone. So if you're a hater, kindly get over it and go find something else to worry about.