Kindly define “slut”, please? (emphasis on KINDLY)

I should wear this as a fair warning!

Oh the shame…  I am a POS for sure! What the FUCK is the matter with me? I freakin’ define the essence of a hypocrite!  Everything I believe in and hold dear as a moral conscientious way of life, I just defy as though it’s merely a challenge to see how far I can go to disgust myself.

Yuk.  I am yuk.

Twin is so terrific!  So kind to me.  So what I clearly don’t deserve.

I finally, after a great deal of asking, conceded to hang out with a guy I’m friends with, whom I did have sex with a few times long ago.  I really wanted to be friends with this guy, as we always have fun together…

Wait, maybe that’s just fun sex?  There was a point in time after I first met this guy that I thought perhaps I might actually be into him.  Into him as in like him, want something with him, etc., etc…

But I really don’t think I do.  I mean, I like some things “about” him.  I like that he is motivated and driven for self-improvement.  I like that he’s a dedicated father to his son. His looks are just a bit above okay; definitely not my kinda gorgeous, but appealing for sure.

I don’t like:  he is pretentious, talks of money constantly ( umm…a HUGE no-no from where I come from; one does not speak of money – it’s “trashy”): as in who has it, who doesn’t,  how much he hopes to make..  He’s a name-dropper (Oh GAWDDDD!).

WTF?

He kept saying, we have to hang out, Kay, when are you free Kay?, what are you doing this weekend Kay?  Want to meet up for happy hour Kay?

And I kept dodging it.  Why?  Because I know that I like having sex with him.  I know that he really likes having sex with me.  I know that I’m not so into sex with the Twin…and I get that this combination is simply a recipe for disaster under the circumstances.  No, he’s not the ex by far, but well, yeah, he’s a definite runner-up.

After months of dodging, I finally deceived myself into hanging out with him and submerging myself in the denial of I can keep it non-physical. However, disinterested in Twin I am physically, I’m not “that” girl.  I’m no cheater, scandalous vixen.  I’ve no desire to hurt Twin.  No desire to disrespect him or his kindness. No ability to tread on his heart like I’m incidentally squashing a bug under my shoe (which I ironically actually try to avoid in itself as well- literally).

No.  I am scum after all.  I cheated on Twin. I feel disgusted with myself.  And gosh, NOW how can I attempt a healthy sexual relationship with Twin??  With all this guilt and shame of cheating?

Did I cheat?  You know what sucks to me about relationships at this era in my life?  How do you know?  What are the boundaries of the unspoken?  It’s not like back in the younger years where you ask, Will you be my girlfriend (i.e., meaning will you not date anyone else?).  That doesn’t seem to be said outright.  It’s more of an unspoken thing, I think?

Because the only semi-conversation about this I’ve had with Twin was when my girlfriend’s buddy was hard core hitting on me one night when I wasn’t with Twin and she says to Twin a few days later, I think you’ve got some competition.  To which Twin replies, Kay’s a big girl.  She can make her own choices.

I don’t know what that means!  I like the non-possessive stance!  I like the implied trust (oh geesh, did I just say TRUST?) factor of that response.  I like the adult-like feeling of hey, yup, we are grown -ups now.  No one can force another to be faithful.  It’s always a choice. There is no sense in tantrum throwing insane jealousy behavior.  We are not chained.  It’s a choice we make to be together, to be faithful.

I really liked Twin’s response to this little gauntlet thrown by my friend.  Perfect response actually!

So, does this mean I owe Twin a confession of my spontaneous (yes my denial is still in there!) tryst with Mr. Pretentious?  What will Twin do?  Will he just say, Choice made dear…see ya…?  Will he just think, Hmm…so it’s all fair game now? YAY??!!  Will he say, Wow!  You’re just a nasty hateful tramp, huh?  F*$# off Kay! And if so, might that be for the best?

I don’t know.  I mean, I really don’t know!  I can only imagine it certainly won’t feel good for Twin. I’m positive it’s not going to give him that warm, loving, trusting (EEK…there it is again!) feeling…

I’m sure anyone who reads my blog or has gotten to know me somewhat through my confessions here might be disgusted with me after this.  I don’t blame you.

How dare I date?  How dare I try to presume the stance of being a nice person just hoping to meet a nice guy to spend some quality time with?  How dare I?!

In spite of the clear lack of morals I’ve demonstrated with this, I’m not one who holds guilt well.  My shame will always tell on me.  I mean, I really DO have a conscience which desires to harm nothing; to treat others as I hope to be treated, to always tread softly in regard to people’s feelings.

My head spins heavy among daggers of guilt, fear and not knowing the damage (or lack thereof?) done.

Ewwwwww….I’m yukky and disgraceful.  Selfish and scandalous.

I’m really sorry.

Crazy Psycho Stalker Bitches UNITE

Running search engine terms stats in previous 24 hours:

M:  119

Nude midgets: 2 (and seriously, wtf does my blog have about THAT?)

Twizzlers: 1

Oh yeah...they're out there!

Twist of fate.  I wrote a post awhile back (FB aka SNWMD (social networking weapon of mass destruction) about what a FBUW I am and this lovely redhead who got irate because I posted, “hey, what’s up?” on her boyfriend’s FB page.  As ridiculous as that response was, I respected it and opted not to post on my friend’s (her boyfriend) page again.

Shortly after that time, I went to the beach with this couple and we had a really nice day.  I was a little leery of Red and her possible insane jealous side, but I was really grateful to get the chance to know her a little.  After all, I’ve been friends with her guy for a super long time and I’d prefer we just get along.  Nothing too friendly occurred, but hey, it was a step in a positive direction.

I respected her “jealousy” and ceased posting anything at all on her man’s page.  I even friended her on FB in a show of complete truce-making spirit.  It’s been almost a year since the FB comment which set her off and I felt things were at a more even keel when I finally again posted something light hearted and innocent on my FB page regarding her boyfriend. I hadn’t seen him in a while and he just recently returned from a trip abroad when I ran into him, literally in passing,  and we shared a brief exchange.

I was walking out the door of my local Cheers-type pub.  He was just coming in and I said, Hey L…now that you’ve travelled the world, you probably don’t think I’m the wittiest girl you know anymore huh?  I say this as I give him a hug and continue on to the parking lot.  He quips back to me, Ahhhhh….don’t fret, Kay, you’re still definitely in my top three wittiest people ever!”

I squeal with delight as I jump in my car, I’m still in!  I’m still in!

It’s playful.  It’s fun.  It’s very brief and even more innocent.  And that is that.

So feeling confident that Red no longer sees me as the threat she did a year ago, I boast on FB about this little compliment, tagging L in said post.  “After flitting about the world a bit, my dear friend L still says I’m still in the top three wittiest people.  Oh how I heart a person who can appreciate my wit!”

I don’t see anything wrong with this post and I actually feel confident Red will click “like” on it and/or make a witty comment about it.  She’s pretty witty herself from what I can tell…beyond the jealousy bit.

What I don’t expect was an outright vicious attack on me right there, in FB public!!  All random and psycho like for the FB world to see, i.e., my friends, family, co-workers, etc, etc.  Geesh, do I underestimate the insanity of Red-Hot jealousy or what?!  Yeah, I do. Ummm…..M is for MORTIFIED!

Red calls me narcissistic and vain and brings up how she feels I exercise no boundaries because I applied sunscreen to her boyfriend’s back that day at the beach!

WHAT?  Is this for freakin’ real?  I’m taken aback, flustered, mortified, and enraged all at once.  Are you kiddin’ me?  I didn’t post anything out of line or inappropriate.  I didn’t say, Dear friends, family, and random co-workers, my friend L thinks I’m the hottest chick in the universe, or the most desirable, or the greatest, or the sexiest kitten ever.  Nope.  Just that I’m witty damnit.  Yeah, just witty.  And hell, not even the wittiest of them all, but just still in the top three.  WTF?!

So Red and I have an (OMG!) little drama fest on FB, posting back and forth about this craziness. I should have merely deleted my post, I know….  Yet, I just felt after her wordy, scathing attack, to delete it was somehow to concede to the truth of her words.  Thus, I did not take the high road and I simply continued to defend my innocent and light-hearted, non-malicious and non-threatening post.

As this embarrassingly continued, I did realize on several occasions, trying to win an argument with a paranoid psycho-crazy jealous chick was not a sane battle at all.  After all, I had reason and sanity on my side.  Whereas she, had paranoia and imagination on hers.  Not a good battle to participate in.  It’s much like taking a knife to a gun slinging show down.  Ya just don’t have all the right ammunition for this particular battle.

Finally, a mutual friend intervenes and reminds us how truly ridiculous this all is and we quiet down.  In addition, Red posts about all kinds of challenges she’s faced while dating my very well liked, sociable, and VERY friendly friend.  And I really feel bad. REALLY bad!  I had no idea that so many women had swarmed my buddy while he dated her.  And suddenly I felt compassion for her craziness and pondered the possibility that, like me at another point in my dating life, she had suffered enough insecurity and challenge in this relationship to possibly bring her to the brink of sanity.  Hell, I’ve been there, crossed into that world of sheer freakin’ madness, and finally returned, albeit forever altered as a human being,  carrying the mental and emotional scars that kind of relationship can create, if we allow them.

And I feel for her situation, her madness, and even her insane level of jealousy.  I see my post from another angle and although I still see it as completely faultless and truly innocent, I suddenly can understand how a mind already damaged from jealousy might see it and overreact.

Finally, L himself responds to this thread.  He comes to my defense about the sunscreen application, but in so doing, he inadvertently shows it as an intentional maneuver on his part.  It seems Red had applied sunscreen to a friend of his one day when  I wasn’t there and L was a bit jealous, so he asked me to apply it to him in front of Red.  I’m sure in an attempt to provoke the jealousy he already knew she had for my relationship with him.  Ughhh!  I’m a pawn in the chess game of their dysfunctional relationship!  And I feel used and dirty!

…And I feel even worse for Red, as this mean trick shows itself fully in the naked light of L’s inadvertent confession.  Poor Red.  No wonder she’s freakin crazy!!  He’s trying to make her that way!!  That rat bastard friend of mine!  As much as I love my friend (and I truly do), being a woman…being a woman who has been on the other end of these maddening games…a woman who always tried to rise above jealousy and jealousy games… I ultimately have to pick the side of the female on this one.  Every time.  Yeah, I have to have the chick’s back on this and call bullshit shenanigans.  Way too many passive aggressive men have instigated this garbage only to calmly sit back and laugh with friends about “some psycho chick”.  Fuck that!  No.  I want NO part of that crap. And I’ll not take being used like that kindly.  Oh HELL no!

I went to bat for Red in a conversation with L and told him in no uncertain terms that I did not approve or appreciate being put into that kind of passive aggressive meanness.  We women have it tough enough being in competition with the world for so many things:  Men, jobs, dating, looks, money, security, weight; God, it’s hard enough to be female in this damned world.  I will not go against a woman in the “make her look like a psycho crazy chick to feed my dull minded limp male ego” game! NUHHHH UHHHHH!

So I had drinks and conversation with L Friday night.  Told him I loved him to pieces but did not appreciate that garbage.  And then I had a three hour heart-to-heart with Red Saturday morning.  I like her.  I feel badly that I was ever put in that position, as I’m the least threat to her ever and that kind of jealousy toward my friends-only friendship with L was just unwarranted and a mean, mean trick.

Strangely enough, I’ve heard from a few people that Red actually is a “whack job” (yes, that’s a quote). And I’m a diehard for the underdog about these things because I still have to give her the benefit of the doubt until she shows her whacked self to me in a situation where I don’t happen to find out it was instigated by another’s sly maneuvers of insecurity.  I also realize these things usually come around to bite me in the ass in a very nasty way, but for the freakin’ jack ass guy who played similar shit-shenanigans on  me a few years back, I just hope at least one person he bragged about me being his psycho stalker (or whatever the hell lying ass phrase he used) might have stopped just for a moment to question before stitching that unfair and untrue label on me:  yeah, that looked kind of crazy, but what in the hell happened just before she responded that way?!  Damnnnn, that dude must have really fucked with that chick’s head….

Right.  So probably not.  It’s doubtful many people stop to ponder that far into things which have little to do with them.  They’re most likely just excited to seize a terrific piece of juicy gossip to make themselves feel superior about their own little miserable worlds.  So, evven though I can’t possibly know if these things ever do really come full circle into karmic justice, but hell, I have to do what I can to see that they do……..for all the “psycho stalker chicks” out there in the world!

This one might be nice...

Now, I just have to come up with the secret handshake for our club.  …Or maybe we can all just get machetes tatooed on our chest.

FB aka SNWMD (social networking weapon of mass destruction)

Saturday night I hit my local little neighborhood tavern for some live music, dancing, and social interaction. Walk in with my friend, S, and her husband. Not too busy here yet, but I’m happy to be among friends. S immediately sees another chick she knows. I don’t know said chick, but after they’re finished with their hello hugs, I smile and say “Hi”, reaching out my hand and introducing myself properly in that oh-look-we-have-a-mutual-friend friendly way. I can’t help but notice mutual friend chick happens to be a beautiful woman with vivid red hair…just gorgeous! Yay Chickie!

Ms. Chickie-poo instantly gives me a look. Eeeek… And I mean a look: a hateful, I wish I could shove you down a 500 foot razor blade slide and land you into a pool of rubbing alcohol kinda look. Whoaaaaa! I’m absolutely thrown…wtf? I don’t even know you lady…what is your problem here? Let me tell ya, it was NOT subtle in any way either. It was bold, blatant, and totally unapologetic. It was so horrendous, the nasty smell of sheer hate instantantly permeated around us; she had a look on her face which even resembled the twisted, painful look one might have were one trapped in an elevator full of horribly offensive gas. It happened so instantaneously and noticeably that even S stepped back a bit in surprise. Yeah…awwwwkwarrd!
I didn’t ask any questions. I’m not 9 anymore; I refuse to deal with these type of senseless things. Weird as hell? Ummm yeah. Do I really give a damn? Nahh. I just accept my fate-of-hate and go have a seat alone several feet away, giving the two their space to catch up, chat, hug, and whatnot. I’m certain I don’t know her at all and therefore, whatever the problem is, it is without a doubt, her problem and has nothing at all to actually do with me.

Few moments later, S comes to sit next to me and says, “wow..that was uncomfortable” Yeah, ya think? What’s her deal?

Apparently, I “know chickie-poo’s boyfriend”. Hmm…I do? Okay….I know lots of people…that could certainly be…but…umm….still, what the hell?

Yeah, it gets better… Not only do I apparently know Ms. Chickie-poo’s loverface, but I (brace yourself here people because all lines of morals, boundaries, and common decency are just about to get crossed, eliminated, skipped over, and possibly destroyed)…

I not only know loverface, but I (deep breath)…..……POSTED ON HIS FACEBOOK WALL!

And you know what? I really did! Yeah, I did this. I posted on her loverface’s wall. Yup, right there for all to see I typed four or five words essentially saying, hello, how are things with ya… RIGHT ON HIS FACEBOOK. I admit to this debauchery. Yes, I am a Facebook Whore. I confess I’m just wicked to the core like that. Mmmhhmm. Call the firing squad, grab the noose, gather the town folk, hold onto your husbands, brothers, computers, hooker stilettos…snatch your loved one’s password and quickly get to the business of friend editing. Go ahead and start embroidering those three scarlet red letters “FBW” too!

Because. I. Am. Guilty. As. Hell. Here.

Yeahhh….and you wanna know something else? I’m not even sorry. I don’t feel guilty. And yeah dammit, I’d do it again. I mean, I WILL do it again. Go ahead, pin those damned letters right on me. There’s no shame in my Facebook game. I post on people’s walls. I do it pretty much every day…sometimes several scandalous times a day even….yeah. And I’ve no intention of stopping. Beware: you (or worse yet your lova’face!) could be next!

So after this little “faux pas” of mine was explained to me via S, Chickie-poo proceeds back over to “chat” with S and me. And wow she was on a mission!  I lost count after like the 17th time she said “my boyfriend”. Umm, you know my boyfriend. Yeah, you posted on my bofriend’s facebook the other day. My boyfriend is over at the —– right now. I’m goin to call my boyfriend and tell him I met you……blah, blah, blah… I mean, she was making it cleeeee-year that she did indeed have a “boyfriend” and that he was, without a doubt, her possession. Okie dokie Chickie-poo! I’m not so big on the labeling thing, so it was pretty clear to me that not only was Ms. Chickie quite insecure, but she and I had some fundamental differences which might get directly in the way of she and I becoming BFF’s anytime soon. Awww…pity…

This lovely little incident came immediately following another FB incident only a day or so earlier in which another innocent FB post got me in “trouble”. I was recently accused of dating a friends’ ex-boyfriend…for the following three reasons: 1. Ran into boyfriend twice in one week (oops! But geesh it IS a small town!); 2. We re-united as FB friends (he didn’t make the cut of my last edit but it was nothing personal); and 3. I posted “great to run into you this weekend!” RIGHT ON HIS FACEBOOK PAGE!

Uh huh.

So my friend then “intelligently” deduced from this cryptic happenstance that we are “dating”. Yeah, this one’s a real Einstein/Sherlock to say the least. Maybe I shouldn’t mention a few key points, but I’m gonna anyway. 1. I’ve known her ex for many years before I knew her at all and didn’t want him then just like I don’t want him now; 2. She is pregnant and engaged to another man; and 3. My reasons for being (gasp!) TWICE in the same place as her ex had zilch to do with her ex man, but just so happened to be because “J” hangs out in the same little local spot…and yes, I WAS there hanging out with J…flirting shamelessly and for the most part totally unaware of any other males around me. Apparently she didn’t get that key part of the local gossip.

And again the irony is overwhelming. There I am, hanging out with Jane’s ex fiancé, really digging him and feeling (almost) guilty about that…at least too guilty to actually tell anyone ( and not even J!) that I’m secretly only there to hang out with J. Her ex coulda been right in my face and I’d not have given him the time of day. I was way preoccupied on both curiously coincidental run-ins with her ex… Too busy flirting with another friends’ ex…GOSH, I have some standards dammit…only one friend’s ex at a time, thank you. Facebook, on the other hand, I have no limits to the comments I might post and no boundaries as to said person’s relationship status. It’s freakin’ Facebook people, a social utility! As long as I’m not posting something like, Baby last night was the greatest!  Come do me again tonight, or some similar sleazy, telling post on your boyfriend’s wall(and trust me, I never would post such a thing – no matter the underlying circumstances!),  then do us all a favor and get over it before you make an ass out of yourself!

But this crazy ass girl with obviously way too much time on her hands is absolutely certain I’m dating her ex! She texts me: Guess you like my leftovers. I’m not stupid. Ohhh well, time to get rid of more backstabbing bitches… that’s secifically her very words!  Yeah, If it wasn’t so pathetic, it would be hysterically funny. No wait, I guess it IS still pretty damned funny!

I feel like a drama magnet! Sometimes I reflect on this kind of seemingly chronic irony and drama which is a sad, but apparently unavoidable, aspect of my life in small town Midwest. Does anyone else get so much bullshit on such a regular basis merely by their existence and/or their presence? I can’t imagine so… Does anyone else instigate this much freakin’ drama without any effort whatsoever? And I mean NO effort. These two men hold zero interest or intrigue for me. In fact, each of them has at several points in our respective long-term platonic friendships made attempts at initiating something beyond friendship, but I was never interested. Not to sound arrogant or anything, but these two particular men, I could have had at any given time in the past ten years or so. Therefore, I’m not these silly little girls’ rival. Girls, girls…I don’t want your men or your ex-men. Sweet, sweet, ignorant, insecure, little darlings, trust me, if I wanted either of them, I would have them already. I am no threat to you, okay?  Bless your little hearts!!

PSA: Everyone can turn loose of their husbands, ex-husbands boyfriends, ex-boyfriends, crushes, and might someday be crushes, your mailmen, your trainers, your brothers, and your kindergarten playground pals from days gone by; you can cease creeping all over my FB page doing amateur investigative work; I’m totally and unequivocally digging only one friend’s ex…and geesh am I digging him…Ohhh my stars!! Updates on that (yeah, my actual moral debauchery) soon to come…:)

And please allow me to offer you two and the other plethora of females out there like you a glorious priceless gift of wisdom which has been handed down for generations in my family.  And please, take notes because it’s highly likely that you’re not of the upper echelon of intellectual beings.

Jealousy is so vastly unattractive that you’d be better off to pack on an extra 100 pounds. And insecurity is like growing a quarter-sized hairy old wart smack dab on the end of your nose. They are senseless, ugly crosses to bear…put them down. I promise you, you’re not avoiding or defeating anything with these two ridiculous relationship- killing, character-telling notions. Let them go!

The *real* problem with SATC

Last night I had to deal with some pretty tough Mom-stuff.  I have the greatest daughters ever, so this isn’t a common theme in my life…thankfully!

My oldest daughter is breathtakingly beautiful, sweet, kind, and intelligent…and she’s also shy and struggling to make friends.  I know at her tender age, having friends means everything.  One would rather have friends at this point in her life than eat or sleep.  It’s absolutely vital to life itself. I get that.  Dealing with this brought me to reflect deeply on the issue of friends and friendship.

In short, the issue is I don’t have any. And if I want to get real down and dirty honest with myself the ugly truth is I never have.

Sure, at any given point in my life (prior to this point, of course), I’ve been surrounded by friends and acquaintances.  My phone book is chock full of names and numbers ranging anywhere from the “chick I met in the bathroom at a bar” and got into a meaningful conversation with all the way to a few (a very few) people I’ve known for fifteen years or more.  I’ve had BFF’s whom I spent every waking moment with.  I’ve even had a few “fatal attraction friendships” where things got ugly when it was time to walk away from that person.  I’ve had co-workers who I went to Happy Hour’s with and discussed everything from what’s for dinner to their extra-marital affair.  I’ve had “activity buddies” who loved the beach or yoga or some other mutually adored pastime.  Other than a few times in my life (now being one of them), I’ve never had a shortage of people to call to hang out with or, more frequently, people who called me daily with their troubles (I’ve always,  ALWAYS been the “counselor” type).  I never minded that, I embraced it actually and felt I was maybe special because so many people trusted me with their important, heart-felt issues and turned to me in their time of need.   Awwwwww…  I even think it encouraged me to believe I  had some close ties with certain people in my life.  After all, they would share their dirtiest, most horrible inner secrets with me…that certainly must  mean we were friends, right?

No.  It meant I’m a friend.  It meant they recognized me as a caring, trustworthy person and felt comfortable turning to me in times of need.  It did not mean- and has never meant- that we were friends.

I get back to this realization anytime I happen upon that fantastical program Sex and the City.  As much as I heart that well-written and entertaining show, I avoid it!  Can you believe it?  And I mean avoid…like I avoid the-adopt-an-Ethiopian-child commercials…you know, the one’s that hurt to watch? I can hardly tolerate watching it (and have certain moments where I literally can NOT tolerate watching it) because it’s an absolute fantasy from my perspective; a fantasy along the lines of Sleeping Beauty or Cinderella.  And here’s the thing, I’m not jealous of their cute clothes, their fun dating adventures, their gorgeous shoes, or their great careers…  I know those things are realistic and totally plausible in this world.  I enjoy that aspect immensely…to ponder the likes of living in a world where I might spend my mortgage payment on the. Most. Fabulous. Pair. Of. Shoes. EVER.    That’s not a pipe-dream; I know that actually happens.

It’s the friendship.  It’s the friendship these women share…  It’s truly akin to believing in Santa Claus for me.  I don’t typically avoid fairy tale type things.  I find them fun actually.  I love watching The Little Mermaid and letting myself get caught up for an hour or so in the far-fetched possibility of that being a reality.  The difference is that fairy tales are out of this world fantastical…they aren’t based on anything that could ever be authentically possible in this world.  And those are beautifully imaginative and refreshing thoughts to entertain for a period of time.  But the friendship:  the lasting, loyal, fun, loving, and practical friendship these women share is something that is theoretically possible.  Hell, it should exist and I imagine it does exist for some, but I have never seen it in real life, much less ever known it myself.  This is what makes this show too painful for me to watch.

As if the writer of that show (as well as the God of Universal timing) knew this excruciating fact,  I then was once cursed to see (of the very few episodes I actually watched through) the episode where Carrie contemplates relationships and soul mates.  Like a train wreck or a fantasy, I could not bring myself to look away or turn it off.  There it was in all its glory, …dumping pounds of salt in my open wounds:

And this made sense to me….but then it has always made sense to me.  Actually, if I had ever written it down as such, I could probably have claimed it was even my idea originally. I just never had that jealousy issue like other girls did.  Boys were boys, the would come and go or stay…whatever…  And I look how I look..take it or leave it…like it or hate it…  After the age of about 12, I never imagined the fairy tale prince sweeping me off my feet and rescuing me from the wicked step-mother or from some other evil force of nature.  Yeah sure, that sounded fun and romantic and all those great things, BUT…. I only dreamed of having close and authentic friends.  Real friends whom I could share life and troubles, happiness and tragedy, good fortune as well as bad…both mine and theirs.  That was what (and who) I hoped to have in my life someday when I got old and decrepit and reflected back on my life:  that would be my lifelong soul mate, not some Prince Charming or any other “prince” of whatever!  Although it was difficult to watch this show about a group of fun, fabulous and lasting friends even before I saw this specific episode, seeing this one just made it that much worse.  I love the show..I hated that show now!

 I’ve had this type of friendship on the one-way street thing, like an unrequited teenage crush…where I naively convinced myself it was real or at least was developing into a real and lasting friendship.  I merely had to “be the friend I wished to have” and surely some like-minded person would see the extraordinary friendship value in me and scoop me up to be friends forever. 

But wait….I am that friend.  Due to my early life-wisdom and perspectives on male-female relationships, I have always been that friend….and still,  I don’t have an Amanda or Samantha…a Carrie or a Miranda…much less, three or four!  Geesh, I can’t even fathom having one. To me, the concept of having even one genuine female friend is in the realm of the truly fantastical and imaginary

Oh I’ve had a few posers…  in fact, I’ve had at least three, and possibly up to as many as six over my lifetime.    Three females whom I actually felt that strong connection and imagined that it went beyond “friends”, but more like family.  Friends I would not have hesitated to donate a kidney, step in front of a speeding train, give up my job, my home, any money I might have, a man who loved me, men who liked me, whatever it took to preserve and nurture that friendship.  After all, at the end of the day and other than my children, that was the thing that would mean the most to me when all else was lost or gone. Right?  I’d have this beautiful friendship with this other person that stood the test of time and life, jobs and men, fashion changes and geographical moves…everything.  This was my “soul mate”… the only lasting thing in life one might ever have which is truly priceless, precious, and irreplaceable.

No.  Every single one of these friendships turned out to be merely a one-sided friendship of convenience; a relationship that would stay solid for as long as I could give..and give..and give…and one even turned out to be something far more sinister, but  I don’t  talk about that one at all..to anyone…ever…   I don’t even like to think about that one, as the pain from it, even though many years have passed, is still very raw and smacks me in the most tender and persistently innocent part of my soul.

..and here I am, in my late thirties, dealing with my daughter’s struggles with both finding friends in a new city and leaving a slew of BFF’s behind.  I worry about her as a mother will, but I mostly keep my jaded mouth shut and simply listen and try to offer hopeful insights that I had regarding friendship when I was her age.  

…when I realize last night that from elementary years through college the issue always was “jealousy”.  Females really are challenged with the sad and destructive jealousy gene.  So, in those early years, they’re jealous –  of your hair, your clothes, maybe your intelligence or how much money your parents have.  In your later 20’s and 30’s, it turns into more of a man-jealousy thing, like friendships have a competitive edge for all the women in the world who grew up waiting for their Price Charming…and this earlier jealousy thing gets an additional razor’s edge…the fear that any other female might intentionally or otherwise, steal her chance with her Prince  …so then that obstacle is added to the rest of the jealousy box from the earlier years.  And authentic female relationships become even more difficult or impossible. 

Suddenly you’re in your late 30’s and  you think, Hey, cool…maybe it kinda sucks getting older, BUT  now we’re all  wiser; past all the competitive man-stuff, the awkward insecurities, the jealousy issues, and the life fears which  have plagued and prevented friendship up until now… 

 

Except, we are not. The divorce rate and the common theme of infidelity in relationships make some of these things still huge issues for many women even at the time in life when it “shouldn’t” be a thought anymore.  These elements keep the jealousy-thing in place even at this “wise” time when we’re otherwise mostly secure (or at least comfortable) with ourselves and our lives.  Then, you realize that friendships take years to nurture and grow into an authentic depth of affection.  So now, we have ALL the issues from elementary years on through, further complicated by the fact that if you haven’t already been fortunate enough to have at least one friendship which survived all those earlier obstacles and stood strong, you’re now hit with the challenge that women (and people in general) tend to be more jaded and cynical about life and people and far less trusting overall.  Thus, at this age, they’re often now far less likely to even extend that arm of friendship out to another female at all.  I mean we’re not really clubbing anymore and looking for girls to dance with us or going to football games on Friday night and wanting someone fun to sit with at the game.  We’re okay to go shopping by ourselves, go to the gym on our own, maybe even go to the movies or out for a drink by ourselves (GASP!…something we never would have done in our 20’s).

I remember my mother once telling me, “Kay, if you find even one real and solid friendship in your lifetime, you should consider yourself lucky”.   So, as I go through this hardship and heartache with my oldest daughter, I find myself faced with all of these thoughts and realizations as I’m desperately seeking words of consolation and hope to give her.  I certainly can’t borrow these words of wisdom from my mother to hand down to her, in spite of the fact that I fully realize how right-on she was; because I’m still facing the hard fact that I wasn’t one of the “lucky ones”.

Me watching SATC!

…and I’m sure you can find the irony in the situation when after I tucked my tearful and heartbroken daughter in bed last night,  after hours of heart-to heart discussion, I came in my room to see those damned SATC ladies on my television!  Those damned wenches…they really do have everything!

Ugh!