Monday, September 17, 2007

I’m Not Mad

Contrary to some theories (mcbias), I did not drop off the face of the earth last week because of insecurity. You see, it was suggested after my last post that the best part of my blog is the comments section. Then, when I didn’t post for the rest of the week…

Calm down people! I am not that sensitive. I think it’s great that you guys can entertain yourselves (and me) in the comments section. I couldn’t care less if you think my posts suck (they’re a good way for me to vent/work things out – see, I do this for ME!). And I was not feeling unappreciated. I was simply…not thinking about you guys last week – that’s why I didn’t write anything. Sorry. Instead I was dealing with ‘life drama’ – otherwise known as ‘other people’s problems.’ And you know how I feel about ‘other people.’ Kidding.

Let me explain: On Tuesday of last week I got a phone call from Christine. She’d just been fired. For the second time this year (ouch). And it left her feeling a little…insecure. OK, that may be the biggest understatement I’ve ever written. Christine was a mess. She was crying (I HATE crying). She was depressed (I finally yelled at her to “Stop saying you suck! It’s not true, and if you say it one more fucking time I’m hanging up on you!”). She was unable to be alone (so she was constantly over at my apartment last week – I finally resorted to telling her I was going out of town on Saturday night just so I could get a night to myself). And she was just altogether…needy. (Basically the exact opposite of how I was when I was laid off.)

Now you may not realize this (if you’re, oh I don’t know, brain dead), but I don’t respond well to needy. In fact, one of the main reasons that Christine and I get along so well is because she’s not needy. She doesn’t need to hug when we haven’t seen each other in a couple of days. She doesn’t cry (normally). She doesn’t spend all of her time putting herself down and needing pick-me-ups (normally). And she doesn’t mind if I drop off the face of the earth for a week of two because I need “me time” (normally). Unfortunately, now is not a “normal” time. And it’s KILLING ME!

As my mother and sister commented when I called to complain last week, it’s times like this that bring out the true meaning of friendship. Christine needs me now, and I have to go above and beyond the call of duty. Let me be clear: I KNOW THIS. I am not complaining to Christine. I am not blowing her off (Saturday night excepted). I am giving the pep talks (minor blow-ups excepted). I am allowing her to cry. I am letting her come over to my place whenever she wants (hell, I even cleaned for her). I am doing all the right things. And I am suffering in silence.

But I’ve got to tell ya – it’s not easy. I give myself another week and then I’m not sure what I’ll do. I’m…a bad friend. I know. I know.

Some other reasons I was too busy to deal with you guys last week:

-Rosh Hashanah – that’s the Jewish New Year. Now, I don’t really talk about religion here, and I don’t really want to now, but I do want to mention how I LOST A DAY OF MY LIFE last Thursday while I was stuck in temple. So…there you go. Now, let me say right off the bat that I’m not into organized religion. I was raised Jewish, but no one in my family (with the exception of my mother and sister) even goes to temple on the high holy days. Unfortunately, Rosh Hashanah is a high holy day; my mom was going, and my sister wasn’t home to do her daughterly duty. So that job fell to me. Godammit!

Some thoughts: The fucking service lasted FOREVER. And about halfway through it, my mother remembered why she had banned me from temple a few years ago (not that I really went before that). You see, I HATE our rabbi. I mean, I think he is a first class jackass, and I tend to express those thoughts by mocking him relentlessly whenever I see him. (Somehow I even managed it while devastated emotionally at my grandmother’s funeral years ago.) Long story short – I was in top form last Thursday, and I embarrassed my mom. Ah well.

After temple I got to go to my aunt’s house where I dodged questions about my job for a few hours, avoided the food (my aunt can’t cook to save her life), tried not to laugh when my dad made fun of everyone under his breath (it was my mom’s side of the family), and drank heavily. So yeah, I had fun. Hmmm, what else…

-Oh, you guys wanted an update on my sugar daddy search. Well, that one’s actually a little interesting. Cliff notes version: I got sidetracked from my search initially because of an old friend/booty call, and then I got even more sidetracked thanks to this absolutely delicious Irish bartender from a pub near my apartment (besides giving me free drinks and being gorgeous, he – unfortunately – doesn’t really fit the bill). But about a week ago, a friend of mine came to the rescue and told me that he had a guy he wanted to set me up with. His sales pitch went something like this: ‘He’s tall, he’s good-looking, and he can afford you.’ Ah, it’s so nice that my friends think so highly of me.

Unfortunately, I was meeting this new guy right after Christine had gotten fired. So instead of a one-on-one meeting (which can be awkward when you’ve never met anyway), we all decided to go on sort of a group thing – me, Christine, the Guy, and the friend who set us up. Sadly, I made the mistake of letting Christine choose the meeting place (hell, she’d just lost her job; I though I was being nice). Obviously in need of some entertainment, Christine told the guys to meet us at the bar where the Irish bartender works. Oops. The entire thing was…weird. For me. Everyone else had a good time. Well, everyone except for the Irish bartender that is – he didn’t seem to appreciate the fact that I was flirting with some other guy the entire time I was there. Thankfully, he kept his cool around everyone and limited himself to calling me later to ask what the fuck I had been doing. I lied and said ‘nothing.’ (I see this all working out REALLY well.)

Anyway, I have another date with the Guy on Thursday – if it goes well I might let you guys vote on a good nickname for him. In the meantime I’m going to try giving the whole ‘be a good person’ thing a chance. Wish me luck!

9 comments:

Shaun said...

From the intro of your post it sounds like you need the commenters to tell you that your posts are good....that's kind of needy. So, I'm not really sure what to do at this point. Do I say, "Nice post!" and go on my way; leaving you to figure out whether it was a nice post or whether I'm just saying it to be nice. Do I say, "Eh, could have been better." and go about my way; leaving you to wonder whether I'm being honest or just giving you 'tough love'. Do I say....I'm not really sure how to use semi-colons, apostrophe's and question marks in some situations and leave you with that?

By the way, nice post.

Redhead said...

Smartass. I will admit to some scary grammar (worse than usual) in this post, but...screw it - I just don't care.

Shaun said...

Actually...I was talking about my grammar. I wasn't sure about my use of semi-colon's. I'm not good at that stuff. Luckily, my girlfriend stops by every weekend and rips me for it. I don't care, but it allows her to vent about something, so that works for me.

So, do we get the story about you at your grandmother's funeral or do we have to wait?

Anonymous said...

Did the bartender not fit the bill because he was hung like an Irishman, or for some other ridiculously girl reason?
I can offer insight onto why you mom takes it personally when you bash going to temple and seeing the rabbi, I know this one from personal experience. Maybe i shouldn't say this, others might take it personally. Fuck it. People don't go to church to extend their relationships with God or to enhance their religious experience. They go because churches and temples are extensions of their community, and when you bash church or the preacher, you bash their lifestyle. Its like calling your brother a fag in front of your sensitive, gay sister. I crossed that line with my father, and it created friction, luckily we almost never spoke before that and just continued the trend. Your mom might feel like the same things you bash the rabbi for might be reflected in her. Just a shot in the dark, but I am feeling filisofical. And it also might be aggravated by the non-universalizing, ethnic nature of Judaism.

MCBias said...

Wow, I clearly am moving up in the blogging world to be name-dropped here. Factoring in this accomplishment, the first time I gain attention from ladies in the real world due to my blogging skills has now been moved up to...2012! Yes, just 5 short years away, ha.

Bruce Paine is sadly right, I think. I do feel that a church should enhance my spiritual experience, so I am kind of critical of weak sermons. But if it's more of an ethnic church (such as Romanian Orthodox), that type of analysis is almost like spitting on your race or something.

Um...and finally, Jewish?! They have redheads? Oh, the sheltered life I lead; I had no idea. So this makes two Jewesses I know of, you and Natalie Portman. Kidding! :-p But unfortunately not completely.

Redhead said...

jack: Sadly, I do know all the rules of grammar - I just choose to ignore them here and overdose on elipses, dashes, and parentheses (what can I say, I'm weak). As for the grandmother funeral story...it's not exactly a funny story, but if you want it, sure.

bruce: OK, a) the bartender (I'm sorry to say) doesn't fit the sugar daddy bill because he...um...doesn't make enough money to. (Ugh, that sounded even worse than I thought it would), and b) I don't think that's the issue with my mom. She literally goes to temple twice a year - for the high holy days - and doesn't know too many people there. It isn't a community thing (although she does claim to like going), it's a respect thing. She doesn't think I have a good enough reason for not liking the rabbi - I'll go into the reasons in another post and you can give me your opinion. One thing I will say is I'm not he forgiving sort; I don't do the whole forgive and forget thing. But I understand what you're saying about the whole religion thing - it's just a touchy subject that (for whatever reasons one has) is often best left alone in front of strangers.

mcbias: I aim to please - glad you liked your shout-out. As for the sermon - actually I will say that this rabbi often gives good ones...I just hate him and mock him mercillessly (sp?). But I only do it to my mother - I'm not loud about it or anything.

As for the redhead jew thing - I don't know what to tell you. I never thought it was weird, but I will admit to other people sort of universally assuming that my entire family is not Jewish (even though we 100% are). Something about "not looking Jewish." I don't even know what the fuck that means by the way. How does someone 'look' a certain religion?

Redhead said...

Lozo I don't think I talk about them as much as you do. And as for displaying them - nah, I'm too classy for that. Shut up, I am!(Plus, I get to see them every day - they're pretty much old news to me.)

Anonymous said...

McBias strikes an interesting point, redhead is the first time I have ever encountered a Jewish person with red hair (fire crotch syndrome). Ah the beauty of genetics. What a wonderful world we live in that it provides us with women in such a variety of shapes, sizes, colors and personalities. I love you all, ladies, each and every one of you.

Redhead said...

bruce: Wait...did you just call me fire crotch?!

lozo: What can I say - I'm a tease.