Let's Do Lunch

I had a friend, she was my oldest and closet friend. I'd know her since I was 16 and our families go back way before that. She is one of two friends (of my many "close" friends) who knows the depths of my childhood trauma. I've never been able to share that much with others. All of my other friendships are superficial, they know the imagine I've created, but they do not know the real me. So our relationship was good, we had similar interests and had fun together. Then she changed, or maybe I changed.

I realize there are three sides to every story, each person has a version of events and then there is the truth. Well, this is my version of events.

She changed. She started acting like she was somehow superior to me. She spared no opportunity to critique my outlook, my reactions, my responses, my commentary...everything about me.

At first, I thought she thought she was being helpful and I did not take issue with it. I figured she did not realize that she was being offensive and hurtful. Then I started avoiding her, very passive aggressive, because I figured if I discussed my discontent, it would result in a huge fight and accomplish nothing.

One day, I proved myself correct. I was very honest, just as she had been, and told her how she was being condescending, insulting and rude. I asked her to keep her harsh observations to herself. She denied it, refused to honor my request, yelled at me, I yelled back and then we hung up the telephone on the other.

I did not speak to her for about a year, and then she contacted me randomly in an attempt to reconcile. I have no interest in reconciling. I give people one chance to hurt me, to lose my trust. After that, I cannot forget and things can never be the same.

I think she wants to mend things. I don't want to be a jerk, but I have no desire to have anything to do with her. I do not hate her, or harbor ill will. I just cannot be friends with her like I was before. I told her that, and she said fine.

Then a few months later, I was invited to her birthday party. I went, as a peace offering, a show of good will. To make the statement, "I don't hate you, it's cool." I was not trying to send the "let's be friends again" message. Maybe she interpreted my appearance as such because a few weeks later I get a thank you card indicating we are on a road to mending things and a week after that, an invitation to lunch.

I accepted the lunch invitation, just to be polite, but I will conveniently have a work crisis and cancel. I don't want to rehash it all. I don't want to pretend to be friends. I don't want to be a bitch either, but I just have no interest in having lunch. She became so enraged, because I asked her to be nice and then she did not speak to me for almost a year - and now she wants to make amends? FUCK NO! It does not work that way with me.

I wish I could be the type of person who could forget. I cannot. I can forgive, she has long been forgiven, but I cannot forget. I do not understand why she is bothering in the first place. If I was such a horrible person that she had to constantly criticize me - to my face - why is she trying to be friends again?

Just leave me in peace. Don't force me to be the bad guy. Just leave me alone.

Value

I went to the doctor, complaining about anxiety. He kept asking about my love life, I tried to divert the discussion back to the anxiety and me having a stressful job, but he was not interested. He kept asking about my love life, so finally, I caved and admitted that I did not have a love life.

His response, maybe you should lose 50-60lbs., make a profile on a dating site and then you would be happier and less anxious. This an exact quote.

I paid a $30 copay, to have some asshole hell me that I needed a boyfriend? (And to allude to the fact that the reason I did not have one, is because of my weight.)

What a dick! Or is he? My own mother things I should have bariatric surgery. My "friends" constantly remind me how pretty I could be if I lost weight, or how many guys I could get.

Growning up, I never spent much time thinking about my body or my looks. I was taught the value of religion, service to God and community, being a good friend, a good student, a good employee. I did not delve into the world of fashion until graduate school, and didn't start tweezing my eyebrows, until age 19. None of that mattered to me.

Even now, with my perfectly threaded eyebrows, and polished wardrobe, I was under the misguided assumption that character and intellect mattered. Clearly, I was mistaken. We aren't talking about health, about avoiding heart disease or similar afflictions. We are talking about beauty.

Sadly, I now realize that my worth is tied to my beauty and I cannot be beautiful if I am over weight. So thank you friends, mom and Dr. Asshole, for the cold dose of reality.

I get it. I'll work on it. I've been working on it. I want to be worthy or love.

Waiting and Wasting Time

This is ridiculous! I had a 12:30 appointment with my doctor. It's 1:00 and I'm still waiting.

I could be at work, biling hours, but instead I'm waiting because a certain individual cannot manage ther schedule, so now, they are fucking up mine.

I'm in a mood that seems like rage, which makes me nauseous. I already spent the morning writing letters to retarted attorneys, I am not in the mood for this.

I've already paid my $30 copayment otherwise I'd leave. They probably wouldn't refund it and would try to charge me for a missed visit. 

They say lawyers cheat people, but doctors, they are the cheaters. We are prohibited from charging for work we didn't do, but they can run a scam. 

I'm trying to reign in my polite, diplomatic self so I can address this with the receptionist, it isn't her fault.

There is still another patient ahead of me. Ahhhhhh! I hate this, it is so wrong!

...but what can I do? I'm a victim of these crappy circumstances, so I wait. 

You Got Game?

Yesterday, I deviated from my usual commute and took a City Transit bus home. The bus can stop at the edge of the driveway to my complex, upon request to the driver, so I approached him, and made this request. I was the only passenger on the bus.

He asked me if I lived in the complex, I said yeah and he proceeded to make other small talk. Then he asked me if I had friends. Me, being the retard that I am said, “of course I have friends, I have lots of friends, who doesn’t have friends?”

He looked at me like I was crazy or something, and then let me off at my driveway.

On the walk up the hill the conversation replayed in my mind and I realized, he was working up to hit on me and I unknowingly shot him down before he had the chance!

I misheard him, he asked me if “I had a friend” which is urban slang for, are you seeing someone or are you in a relationship. Since I obviously have no game, I didn’t get it. No wonder I am single, I don’t even realize when I am being hit on.

And the Pot Called the Kettle Black

Against my better judgement, I accepted an invitation to dinner from him. He was surprisingly well behaved, acting the perfect gentleman. Perhaps he was always this way, but it has been so long since I’ve gone out with him and gone on a date in general, I had forgotten how they - men - act around a woman they like romantically. The evening was nice, but unremarkable except for a small exchange during dinner.

He told me about a relative of his, who was considering a girl for marriage. His advice to the relative was that this girl was bad for him, that she did not love him and that he should end the relationship.

I immediately interrupted him and said, “you know this is EXACTLY what my friends say about you?”

In the past, he would have gotten angry. Angry because I spoke of our relationship to third parties, angry because someone dared to disparage his good name, and angry that I had the audacity to let him know that someone had disparaged him.

That night he looked a bit surprised, then gentled his approach and asked who had said that. I told him all of my friends, not trying to snitch on anyone in particular, besides it was really none of his business. Then he looked me in the eye, his expression intense, and told me not to listen to them, that our situation is not like his relatives’ and that he did care about me. His statement, was not an argument akin to what a lawyer would make in court trying to persuade, but a plea for me to believe him.

I looked down at my plate, because I could not believe him, I believed all of my friends and suddenly felt stupid for agreeing to dinner in the first place. The mood lightened when he said with a chuckle, it was probably XXXXX and she is just a hater. I laughed, not because it was funny but because he had correctly guessed one of the many friends who was not a fan of him. I wanted to tell him that she was not a hater, and had my best interest at heart, but it seemed pointless. As pointless as me having dinner with him in the first place.

Bad News

These past two weeks have been filled with bad news. I hope things get better. I'm reaching my breaking point. Sometimes I feel like crying and I cannot - it's weird. I want things to get better.

Cougar Town

I hate the show Cougar Town, with Courtney Cox (Monica from the show Friends.) Women over 40 are portrayed as desparate to cling to their youth, and their looks - both of which are running away fast and marriage is protrayed as a miserable state.

On the flip side, single 40 year old guys are happy, hot, loving life. I hate that shit. Why does society teach us that it's all over for women at age 40, when it's just begginning for men? Realistically, women routinely outlive men, so the men should be portrayed as the broken-down oldies, not the women.

Annual Review

Last night I dreamed I was at my annual review. As all attorneys know, the annual review is when the partners decide if you get a raise or not, and bitch at you for not doing a good enough job throughout the year.

I've never been bitched at in any of my reviews, but in my dreams last night, I was being denied a raise. I must be stressing about billable hours since the year is winding down. I foresee 200 hour months in my future! :-(

Russell Peters

For some bizarre reason, I have this ridiculous crush on Russell Peters. Who is he? A Canadian-Indian comedian. His jokes are hilarious, usually related to the various races and culture. He is western, in dress in speech. He appears to have embraced hip-hop culture. He's tall, kinda goofy looking, a little soft on the body, but funny as hell and I'm crazy about it for inexplicable reasons.

I kinda met him once. The weekend of my 30th birthday. My girl and I drove to New Brunswick to see him at a comedy club. He walked through the crowd to get through the stage and while coming through, stopped at my chair, kinda grabbed my leg and winked at me when I smiled at him. His eyes, had a twinkle, a spark. A good 15 minutes of his act was about hot girls and me and my girl about 100% certain that he was looking in my direction during the delivery. I've been gaga over him since.

So, I went into stalker mode and started following him on Twitter. He presently has a girlfriend, which kinda annoys me. I'm not gonna go all Ali Larter on Idris Elba in OBSESSED, but seriously...I could date him. His girl is so plain.

Ramadan

In 6 days, the annual fast of Ramadan begins. Meaning, I will abstain from food, drink, cursing, hookah, sex (as if I was getting any anyways) and otherwise being a bitch for the daylight hours for the next 30 days. This, my friends, is what Muslims refer to as Ramadan.

In exchange for starving, having bad breath, being dehydrated and getting a headache due to having low blood sugar (from not eating) some of your sins magically disappear. I don't beleive I have a mountain of sins, but failure to participate is a sin so I must join in on the hungry fun.

This year, Ramadan corresponds with August, meaning hotter, longer days. The fast will begin about 430am and continue until about 745pm, approximately 15 hours. Everyone wants to make others out to be a bad muslims if they reference concern about being able to maintain the fast. Folks are quick to assume you are a bitching, complaining and lazy ass. They refuse to acknowledge that it is not "normal" or "healthy" to go without food or drink for so long, especially in hot weather. Furthermore, they like to remind to you the "less fortunate" who never have a drink of water or enough to eat. So in their honor, we starve? How about the people with cancer, should we die slowly too, to undertsand their position? Whatever!

This Ramadan will be difficult. The difficulty, I beleive, is what helps to remove the sins. It's a necessary struggle, that I am not looking forward to. My lack of enthusiasm does not make me a bad person. The articles of faith do not require folks to look forward to or enjoy Ramadan or the fasts, but to do it! Furthermore, my honesty makes me real.Not some lame poser like many of the people on facebook.

Wedding Season

Wedding season runs simultaneous to the summer and typically lasts from Memorial day through Labor day. It's early July, and I have attended 3 weddings already. That is not such a big deal, and I was happy to be included by the happy couple however wedding season, or weddings in general have begun to take a toll on me.

I'm 30 and I have never been a brides made and as each day passes, I worry that I will never become a bride. Ordinarily I would be ok with this, however because dating, premarital sex or basically any interaction with the opposite sex is mostly frowned upon in my faith, marriage would be nice. Furthermore, there is a social status associated with marriage that I cannot begin to delve into, however despite my professional accomplishments and my ability to take good care of myself, I am still viewed as flawed by the community for being a 30 year old unmarried woman, but that is another topic.

Each wedding becomes more and more painful for me, literally. I am happy for the couple, this is not a selfish tirade, but weddings are not one day events. There is the bridal shower, some kind of rehearsal if you are a party to the wedding, a mendhi if the couple is desi and if the couple is Muslim, there is the ceremony one day and the reception another day. So if you are invited to 4 weddings per year, you are easily attending 3-4 events related to this wedding for a total of 12-16 wedding related events in a season.

The events become more and more traumatic with time. You see the same people or the same type of people. The folks who look at you with pity because you cannot catch a man and the people, usually old enough to be your parents, who asks about your status repeatedly, knowing damn well you are very much single, then ask, "why aren't you looking" or "what are you waiting for" when they know that it's not a question of looking or waiting, it's a problem of finding a suitable bachelor.

Today I attended wedding number 3, so far I have one more and I am done! Don't get me wrong, I am flattered and honored that people love me enough to want to include me on their special day, but it's hard because no matter how much I try to drown out the voice, it's always there in the back of my mind asking when or if my day will come.

I Said I Loved You...but I Lied!!!

Last week, despite being engaged to another woman, he had the audacity to tell me he loves me, that he would always have feelings for me, that he thought about what our kids would look like and that he knew they would be cute.

I am not a person prone to violence, but I wanted to stab him.

In the 11 years since I have known him and the three that I have loved him, he has not once uttered the words. The last time he was trying to con me into a relationship was on the eve on his first wedding, and the best he could muster was "I have feelings for you." Now, nearly five years, a marriage, divorce and present engagement (to another woman) later these "feelings" have somehow blossomed into love?

Any respect I had for him is now gone. Not for a second do I believe it is love. It is a game. It has always been a game. It will always be a game, to him.

He is a man who does not know how to be loved or how to love. I am fairly certain he does not love his current fiance (since they likely met the day of the engagement) and I am 100% sure that he has not ever (and never will) love me.

So why the lies?

I have no explanation for his behavior, nor any control over it. I can only explain and control my own behavior and actions. While I would like to remain friendly, in an appropriate manner, I realize that is not a possibility. So this ends an 11 year chapter in my life and a 7 year "friendship."

New Jersey Devil

I decided to tell my six year old niece the story about the New Jersey Devil. We were in the mini van, driving through the woods where this create is known to haunt. It was after sunset, and therefore dark outside.

She listened to the story, thought for a minute and then said, "that's a made-up story." It was not a question, but a direct statement. She was not scared or at-all concerned. She simply dismissed the tale as fiction. I was impressed, I was not trying to frighten her, but the fact that she so readily knew the tale was false, even though I was trying to portray it as truthful was surprising.

Then she asked if she could play checkers on my iPhone. I handed her a phone that she knew how to work, without instruction. How very different she is at six, then I was. With each generation, the children become smarter and more advanced.

Lyrics

Sometimes, lyrics to a song describe my feelings/thoughts just perfectly. The words make it evident that the song writer lived through similar experiences or pain, for example...

...And that last kiss, I'll cherish, until we meet again.
Pink - Who Knew

...In a crowded room, I'm alone.
Brandi Carlile - Downpour

...Til now, I've always done fine on my own, I never really cared until I met you, but now, it chills me to the bone.
Heart - How Do I Get You Alone

...And after all the obstacles, it's good to see you now with someone else. And it's such a miracle that you and me are still good friends, after all that we've been through, I know we're cool. And I'll be happy for you, if you can be happy for me. Circles and triangles, and now we're hangin' out with your new girlfriend. So far from where we've been, I know we're cool.
Gwen Stefani - Cool

...Caught in my fears, Blinking back the tears. I can't say you hurt me when you never let me near. And I never drew one response from you. All the while you fell all over girls you never knew. Cause I've done every thing I know to try and make you mine. And I think it's gonna hurt me for a long long time.... Living in the memory of a love that never was. Cause I've done everything I know to try and change your mind and I think I'm gonna miss you for a long long time. Cause I've done everything I know to try and make you mine and I think I'm gonna love you for a long long time.
Linda Ronstadt - Long, Long Time

The Countdown Begins

In less than a week, I turn 30. So far I have been handling it surprisingly well. I have not accomplished all that I wanted to accomplish by age 30, but because I’m not so far off the mark, I’ve adopted a glass half full approach to turning 30. After all, 40 is the new 30, so I have another ten years to get things in order.

People at work are asking how I plan to spend my “last week in my 20’s” as if it is my last week alive. I take the comments with a chuckle, I refuse to let the opinions of others break my good mood. Until recently, even I wondered if maybe I was fooling myself into believing I was ok with 30, when really I was trying to avoid a meltdown. However, last night, I was able to confirm my comfort in turning 30.

I went to a dinner party where another soon to be 30 pisces sister mentioned her fear and doubt about the impending birthday. She had everything I wanted, the big diamond on her left ring finger, the successful physician husband, the McMansion and the cute kids. She was appreciative of all that she had, but longed for a career, the very career that I have.

Instead of launching into a “woe is me” conversation about the misery of turning 30, I played the positive. I reminded her that the career girls like me, longed for the life of the married girls like her, that married girls wanted what career girls had and the girls who had both were often too stressed out managing it all to enjoy it. Essentially, for most people the grass always appears to be greener somewhere else, but it never really is.

So I turn 30 on Friday. I have taken the day off from work, I have a spa appointment set. My sisters have planned a party for me. I have a good job, I’m building a great career. I have my health. I have a family who loves and supports me, and friends who are always present to share good and bad times. I have a comfortable home, a beautiful smile, a whole wholesome heart and a great head on my shoulders.

I am grateful and thankful and happy. I am also very ready, to turn 30.