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!