Monday, October 1, 2007


You know, it doesn't matter how old I get and how much I evolve - getting stood up by so-called "friends" never seems to hurt any less. This weekend brought a new level of disappointment when an old friend my husband and I haven't seen in a really long time didn't call or show up after the last thing that we said to one another earlier that day was "Okay, I'm driving up there now. I'm going to pick up my girlfriend , and we'll meet up as soon as I do."

Another similar instance involved my so-called "best" friend who is back home from NY for a week, and who called me before any of her other friends to tell me she's coming into town because she needed a ride from the bus station, but then ignored my calls for the entire weekend while partying with these "other" friends. What am I, some sort of social cripple? I like parties. I like meeting new people, but she purposely makes excuses to not invite me and to avoid me when she hangs out with these people.

Whatever. It's just embarrassing to find myself in such a vulnerable, needy state. I shouldn't care. All I do when I am around people is innumerate their flaws in my mind and smirk with satisfaction. I guess it just eats me that I've been deprived of the opportunity to do it this weekend. It would have been nice to see our dear old friend interact with his white trash girlfriend who is really just messing with his head. Likewise, it would have been great to see my ditsy "BFF" vie for the attention and approval of her other friends. The times I have seen her outside of the private clique consisting of her and me, she behaved herself in a much more reserved, rather dull fashion. With me she is boisterous, witty and scathingly funny. I guess her maddening need for acceptance drives her into the midsts of these mediocre groups of adolescents where she isn't pressured to think and express herself. I guess being friends with someone like me is exhausting. Because I hate so much about myself, I hate it all even more in others. Actually, I just really hate others in general, so maybe it's all for the better that we got stood up anyway. Instead of going out and wasting money, my husband and I bonded and frolicked by ourselves. We went to brunch, we did mundane house things, and we indulged in carnal activities. We played with our cats, we watched a great Parker Posie film ("The House of Yes"), and laughed and laughed and laughed. I guess this is growing up and having a life. Why else did I get married? When you find truly great company, someone who makes you feel at ease no matter what else is happening, you begin to realize that losing other people only hurts your pride and ego, not really you.

Or so I keep telling myself.