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Those Friends: part 1

Posted on Saturday, April 11, 2009 in Keep your friends close., Someone please pay me to bitch.

So I’ve got a couple friends–everyone’s got at least one of them. You know, the type of friend who you’re not quite sure is actually your friend. Takers who readily take and wouldn’t know the first thing about giving. Today, I’ve got one friend I’d like to discuss.

Friend A, we’ll call her A. She’s overly confident for reasons that are not apparent to the naked eye, a terrible singer who loves to sing more than life itself-the kind of singing that would drive a deaf dog crazy. Not just a hum-a-long-to-the-radio-singer. A my-life-is-a-broadway-production singer. Sitting in a fishing boat, on a lake stocked with fish trained to jump in your boat (for 5 hours…) and there’s not a fish to be found, BUT, I did get a full on re-enactment of Rent. As truly annoying as I’m sure this sounds (and truly is!), this has nothing to do with why I don’t believe she is a genuine friend to me. It has more to do with the fact that I can pour my heart out to her in an email about something huge in my life that’s really bringing me down, and she can manage to respond without actually addresssing a single word I wrote in my email. It has to do with the fact that we mainly keep in touch via email because she lives far away, in a big windy town, yet every email she sends are only about her and her stupid illegal alien boyfriends who claim to have been deported (who in reality have only been “deported” to the South side of town) just to cleanly and quickly end their relationship with her (how awkward would that be to walk into the pub and see your deported boyfriend, or, if you are as dillusional as she is, you might just jump for joy that he managed to escape Immigration..? To further the dillusion, you just might concoct a story in your head that he actually planned all of this and was here at this very pub to surprise you!!) So, feeling like our emails were missing each other by a mile, because obviously what I was writing was of no interest to her, and while I always asked how she was, and what was new and did this or that happen, did it go well, etc (and genuinly cared that she was well), her self-absorbed emails quickly lost their glimmer and gleam for me, I decided to stop responding to her emails (oh, btw, I was also bombarded with mass email and text updates on her life, I mean, this bitch wb178969537ould stand on a mountain top and shout out her business to anyone who would listen) just to see how long it would take for her to notice that I’d stopped responding. It took 2 months (for me to get tired of the bullshit emails and point out to her that she had stopped receiving emails from me). A little background on this friend. We went to college together at a pretty little liberal college in the midwest. We had a baseball team and a joke of a football team. We had halls named after bodily functions. We spent our free time drinking watermelon pucker(remember that nasty shit?) on various bunkbeds in various dorm rooms between classes, her: theatre, me: science & lit. We met on a trip to build a house for Habitat. We sat on the roof of this house and smoked a cigarette together (ick, now). I listened to her stories about her then boyfriend (who later hit on me, blatantly in front of her while I was visiting her in her big windy city, but she did not notice) who was of course being a douchebag. I think I learned early on, somewhere in my gut, that for the most part, our friendship would be one that looked better on paper, it sounded better when retold in stories later, but really wasn’t all that reciprocal, like, at all. But, after college, we didn’t see each other all that much for about 4 years and by the time we reconnected, I (stupidly) assumed that she had matured. After all, she was now a high school drama teacher, working on her master’s degree. She came out to visit me in my high, wide open space-filled town, about 3 years ago (we actually reconnected on Myspace haha!), where I quickly realized that she’s only aged in years, not in maturity. Her eyesight has not broadened beyond her own nose, and it’s not looking good folks.

In conclusion, yes, she will be invited to my wedding (I guess I haven’t had enough torture yet!), because it’s expected by others and she expects to be invited and I think the hassle of not inviting her at this point would be greater than just letting her come and having her there (I’ve hired bodyguards and professional listeners, she won’t get within a good arm’s length of me). And also, we have had some crazy times, that are super funny, together. We laugh our asses off, until we cry or pee a little, and I’m content to be the listener and the sympathizer, because the center of attention has never been a great location for me. We camp, drink beer, eat burned corn on the cob and dehydrated camping food, kayak, fish and pitch a mean tent together. So will I keep her as a friend, sure. Will I trust her with my life and my deep dark secrets (regardless of how many of her deep dark secrets I currently house)? Never.

nosebean, out.

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