Tag Archives: drama

Say No to Digging Up Poo

Prepare for me to argue with and contradict myself throughout this entire post. I swear I have a point, though it may be confusing as I go about getting to it. You’ve been warned.

I ended a previous post about my GFs by saying that friendships last forever. I do believe this. But some friendships don’t seem to last forever. But there is something about these friendships and all friendships that do last forever. And I also believe that all friendships have the potential to last forever.

This post is dedicated to one person specifically, who I will not name, and a couple other people who I also will not name. Haha, so specific. Basically it’s dedicated to a few ladies whom I know and either love dearly or have loved dearly in the past. And also to everyone I love who has endured my drama.

Recent and semi-recent events have led me to do some semi-serious introspection of late, and I have decided to share my thoughts with the interwebs since that is what I do on this here blog. I have a feeling it will apply to more people than just me and my little gang of chicklets. Yes, this is specifically about lady-friends but it is also pertinent to dudes in some ways, I’m sure.

You know you are a grown-up when…this is a long list. During school, I had this great friend. To make a long story extremely short, we eventually grew apart. By the end of senior year I was 100% convinced that this person did not like me anymore and I didn’t know why. I could think of a couple possibilities but none of these were conclusive, nor was I convinced that any of these were the root cause. We had endured a bit of drama through those 4 years and so for the first time ever, I decided it wasn’t worth my time to trudge through the awkwardness and force a conversation about something neither of us could remember and try to make nice. I figured it was a wash. I had great friends and so did she. The only time it bothered me was when these friends overlapped, which was semi-often. But I had been hurt along the way, and I figured the same was true for her, and it seemed we were both happy. No need to dig up buried poo. It would just stink more. Time passed.

Then a few weeks ago I got a phone call from a non-caller-ID’d number after working hours. This is common since I forward all my calls from my personal phone to my work phone and therefore don’t have everyone’s number saved anymore. As I looked at the number trying to figure out if it was friend or foe (foe = work person, also common), I had a memory flash. I knew this number. Very well. And sure enough. She was just in town for a couple days, and did I want to meet up? Ya’ll know I can’t hide any and all emotions whatsoever.  So, per the MSP standard, my shock and surprise from this phone call was evident. But we agreed on a time and place and a few short hours later I was sitting at a high bar table, talking about high school reunions and ANTM marathons over a glass of wine with my old friend.

Something had changed here with this person and I couldn’t put my finger on it really. Then it occurred to me that it wasn’t necessarily just her who had changed. We had both grown up a bit since the last time we had enjoyed each other’s company in this way, going on 3 years ago. Graduating from college and making life decisions does that to a person. There’s also something about the real world that gives one perspective. I have new perspective on my own life, and I seemed to have a new one on hers, and vice versa.

Then 2 weekends ago I was, along with some of my closest VT pals (though missing a few key family members), in Blacksburg to stock up on some Hokie hugs and love. This visit was full of happiness for me, good times, funny reminiscing, bunches of giggles, TOTS, and a healthy dose of college drama.

I remember when I graduated from high school, I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking I was leaving all that drama behind for a newer, more mature and less dramatic existence. This ended up being true only in that it was newer. Still plenty of drama to be had. And if you tried to avoid it, it found you. Then when I graduated from college I thought once again, so grateful to be leaving the drama behind and taking only 4 years of amazing memories with me. Joke’s on me once again, as drama fills the lives of everyone around me, including my own. I have learned that the drama doesn’t go away, it just changes with age.

I am not here to air other people’s dirty laundry, and I am going to attempt to tread lightly on this topic. But I have to say. It repeatedly astounds me what “good friends” will do to each other. It is also astounding in a different way what friends will put up with from these “good friends.” The human capacity to love and forgive is an amazing thing. I have witnessed a few instances of this in my life, either being graciously given forgiveness, or graciously giving forgiveness. And in both cases, sometimes the forgive-ee was not worthy. But it is still granted either in the name of love, less drama, or ease. Sometimes it’s just easier to forgive and move forward – I know I’ve definitely done this to avoid difficult discussions or awkward situations. But not everyone is as magnanimous as me. Haha, just joking. But seriously. We all need differing amounts of time to get over things, whether it’s a fight between friends or a death or a breakup or whatever. With my old friend, there were definitely things that needed to be forgiven. In other words, I definitely had a list of things I needed to forgive in order to move forward (and I’m sure vice versa, but this is my blog not hers). But time did it for me. Time allowed us to go our mostly-separate-but-occasionally-intersecting ways and made it easy for me to meet this girl for a drink and have an easy and nice time.

But others struggle with this, and time is not always on your side. Friendship requires trust, and when that trust is broken, sometimes repeatedly and without mercy, we can run out of forgiveness and just want to say, “You know what, you’re a mondo biotch and I never want to see your stinking face again! And you look fat in that dress. HA.” Amiright! But I bet anyone who’s ever done something like that who is not herself a mondo biotch probably felt ridiculously bad immediately after. And she probably apologized immediately or promptly burst into tears.

Anyhooz, I don’t think that me and this girl will be “best friends” again, whatever that means. But it is nice to know that as two adults, we can completely put aside any differences we may have had in the past and have a nice visit, ask about the parents, and our plans for the future. We shared a past, and at one point were very close, and this is possibly what made it easy for us to converse so.. well, easily. Enough time had passed that we could both put whatever pain we had caused each other aside and just visit. We don’t need to dig up the poo, as I so delicately put it earlier. We can just smell the pretty flowers that grew from it.

I just completed that analogy so awesomely. Let us all go forth and be grateful for friendships we have, and not let pettiness and bad memories ruin others. Because poo is smelly and deserves to be buried.

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IDK, my BFF Jill? Or, Adventures of the Dramatic Teenage Girl

Remember when everything was the BEST or WORST thing ever to happen to ANYONE in the whole wide WORLD?

Remember when we were 13 and had our first “boyfriend” and we came home from school all gushing because “Bobby” wrote us a note and we loved him so much and he loved us and there were butterflies and rainbows following us around in the halls at school, and home on the bus, and all the way to family dinner where we gleefully shared the news with our parents? OR when we gleefully tried to hide it from our parents because we knew they hated boys of all shapes and sizes BUT they found out anyway all about us and “Bobby” and our “true love”? However the story went for you, I know you know what I’m talking about. Wasn’t it just the grandest time of our life? And then a week after he “asked us out” and we were “official” one of two things happened: 1) he met “Mindy” and her growth spurt happened before ours (bitch) so her ta-tas were enormous and he left us for her, a tragic event which gave us a bleak look into our future of being ousted by bustier biotches. Or 2) Dad found out, grounded us (“forever” probably), threatened a convent, Catholic boarding school for girls, and/or death, and we couldn’t see “Bobby” again after hours because we were so uncool. Thank GOD we had English class together, otherwise our heart would have been permanently broken for the REST of our LIFE and we NEVER would have recovered because dad is just SO MEAN and how could he DO this to us??? UGH life was so hard back then. If only we’d known it was just hormones we could have shrugged it off and told Bobby to go find some other bimbo. If only that “boys have cooties” thing stuck around into puberty, life would have been so much easier (although, really and truly who actually believed boys had cooties and actually wanted them to stay away? Don’t try to be the cool girl, you know it was all a ploy so they’d think we weren’t foolishly in love 24/7. I’m convinced boys are the only ones who ever actually believe in the cooties thing).

But wait, there’s more. Because THEN we started high school! Ah, high school. Such awesomely thrilling times to be had there, boys boys everywhere! And they were all after us because we had blossomed (Mindy got fat, ha!) and maybe we weren’t super popular but some of the cute ones liked us, still unsure of whether we’d “put out” or not. Well they’d find out, wouldn’t they? Then we went to homecoming and it was SO romantic and he brought a corsage AND a teddy bear and we thought OhmiGOSH we will live SO happily ever after it isn’t even funny. And we were dancing (leaving room for Jesus of course) and laughing and taking SUCH cute pictures together and we just knew every girl wanted to be us because we were so fab. Then we looked in the corner of the gym and there was DAD again! He was RUINING our lives and WHY couldn’t he just leave us alone for once for crying out loud?!?! [side note: if you are offended or becoming defensive at this little story, you need to re-examine your life, because girl, this was you no lie…that’s why I’m using “us” and “we” and the overly dramatic adjectives, it is not an accident.] Yes, he was there to “protect” us from big bad boys. UGH he didn’t know anything because obviously Bobby II was SO nice and he LOVED us too, more than the first Bobby even! And that was a lot. So there. But he didn’t listen to any of our arguments and still made us leave early and we missed out on ALL the fun.

Then we turned 16 (and 3 months, obviously) and had our *angels singing in the heavens* drivers license! BAM now it was freedom time! SIKE. Because now we had the EARLIEST curfew of ANYONE in the history of the WORLD (obviously we didn’t know about places like the middle east where women can’t even go out in public) and it was so UNFAIR. And of course he told us that “life wasn’t fair” and we could just deal with it or…yes, that’s right, go to a convent, Catholic boarding school for girls, or maybe military school, depending on how pissed off we made him. Then to make things worse, anytime a boy even came over just to hang out (geeze!), dad was all “checking on us” and stuff. Completely UNcool.  SO uncool, in fact, that boys really didn’t want to come over more than once or twice before the big-forearm-scowly-face-I’m-cleaning-my-guns-routine was too much to handle.

It’s all good though because a few years later, we went to college and went CRAZY with all the unsupervised time with boys. Two words: Planned Parenthood, thank goodness for them [JK Poppa Pants, definitely never went there, just go with the story]. Anyway, eventually things got better for us and now we are all big girls now and able to look back on those times of hell for our fathers and reflect honestly. Ah yes, the point of this entry! Finally.

Miss Sassy Pants would like to send a formal letter of appreciation out to her very own Poppa Pants, and all other dads out there who have endured, are enduring, or will endure the wrath of pre-teen and teenage girls (this includes you, cousin of mine with the adorable daughter…at least you’ve got a few years to get hyped up). We were HORRIBLE and we recognize and would also like to give a formal apology. I’m sure we can all think of a couple a billion times in which we were hindered from doing what we really wanted to do, when actually dear old dad was saving us from getting the herp or some other tragedy we didn’t know about.  And maybe we cried a little less than we could have if we’d been allowed to hang out with “Bobby” more. But be honest ladies, he was smelly and not all that cute. Now that we are grown ass women, we can do better and we know it. So hey Dad, sorry I was such a pain in the ass. Love you.

My jeans are still my life though, trust.