Tuesday, July 10, 2007

Attention: You're not obligated to read this rant, and if you're going to feel bad about language or otherwise P.O'd behaviour (and I'm ashamed to admit, a bit immature as well), I recommend you close this window/tab now and go do something else. For those curious (and maybe self-destructive) enough, go ahead, do what you want.

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Well, it's been a while since this happened, but it still bothers me. And now I figured that I have zero obligation to to be understanding, I'm recording my side of the whole goddamn scuffle here since no one else seems to want to know it. (And the other side can see this, I'm not going behind anyone's back. Don't have a cow.)

Now, a little while back a friend of mine, A, decided that I absolutely needed to wear two costumes to the nearing convention somewhere here. I was reluctant, but she doesn't really take no for an answer so okay fine, if it makes you feel better then do the costumes. Let's keep in mind that she decided that I needed those two things, and that she told me she'd make them. Felt a bit guilty, but she assured me she could do them. Okay, if she was sure...

Now, she gave me a vague idea about when we should go shopping for the fabrics for the other costume (that weekend). Which was odd, since normally she'd told me the exact time and date on which to go (at this point I can say that MSN was acting up, so if she did send me the exact time, I sure as hell didn't get it and she sure as hell didn't bother to ask if I did). So all in all, I was a bit clueless as to when exactly I was supposed to show up and go with her. On a Friday, my parents tell me that they want me to come along and help clean some cottage so we could spend time in it on the next day. A 24-hour warning, wonderful. A bit like the one ma gave me when we moved. "How was your day honey? Great? Well that's good then! Oh yeah, and we're moving this Friday, start packing." It was Wednesday at the time.

So I tell (grumble to) A on the Saturday before I'm supposed to leave that I am practically forced to go. She then tells me that we absolutely MUST go and buy the fabrics that day (two, three weeks until the con) and I can see that she is distressed, so I bargain a half-an-hour to go and buy the things and am out of the door, heading for A's house. I get there, she's nowhere in sight. Her parent tells me she just left and tries to reach her. No luck. So then I try to reach her for five minutes, maybe more but no luck. After that, she just sends me a message that "don't bother, I already bought the fabrics". I can practically hear her hiss...

For two days, she ignores me. I'm thinking what the hell, this girl is everything but the ignoring type (or so she says). On the third day, she delivers me an ultimatum. She tells me that I need time to think, demands me to change my behavioral patterns and attitude, and if I wish to do so, I may contact her in two weeks. And bam, bans me from her MSN. At this point I'm blown away. This girl, as I said, is anything but the ignoring type, yet here she is, throwing a goddamn tantrum like a kid in a day-care.

So I start thinking a bit. Okay, I can see why she's upset, I didn't handle this situation the best I could, but here's a shocker: neither did she. Also at this point I'm getting pissed, because no one, no one, can demand me to change myself. I mean, if I was an addict or an alcoholic she might have a basis for her demands, but come on, over a personality quirk? Yah, I'm totally gonna do just that. Right after Superman starts wearing jewellery made of kryptonite.

After a few days, I try to contact her by email, trying to tell her my side of the story. I'm guessing she deleted it, no way of knowing for sure, but it sure as hell didn't tell her what she wanted to hear. Near the two-week notice, she unblocks me and I try to ask if we can talk. Nope, not until I change myself. So I try to reason with her, asking her if I'm the only one at fault here. Everything ignored. she tries to, pardon my friends, fuck me up by saying things that we're not only incredibly irrelevant, but not based on facts (that were the opposite of her allegations). When I finally tell her my side of the story and ask her why she's so quiet, she tells me she didn't read it, because she was "too busy ignoring me". Ah, wonderful. That just solves everything. To sum it all up, she kept telling me how much she was enjoying this, how bad of a person I am, how the poor, poor A gives and gives without getting anything in return, yadda yadda yadda and hack.

What really made me see red was when she attacked my family: if you do that, you're digging your own grave. You have a problem about my family, you tell it to my family. She then decides that we're not friends anymore and later asks a mutual acquintance to rely a message to me about a book of hers that I had. Whether she's just pissed or scared, I don't know, but she could at least have the balls to ask me herself.

And now to my favourite portion of this rant: why I think her allegations weren't thougt out too well.

First off, she accused me of not having a spine when it comes to my family, ie: asking permission when going on a short trainride to another town or the likes, and why I gripe about my family.

Well let's see... Why I ask my mother's permission... This woman has raised me and cared for me for the past 18 years. She has fed me, clothed me, kept me safe and offered a safe enviroment to grow in, provided unconditional love for me and she had a choice keeping me and my brother, and she chose to keep us. The least I can do is be corteous enough to ask her a permission to do things (even if I know that the answer is yes), because we are living together, and it's how we respect other people in my family, by paying them a polite and civilized question before acting to ensure no hard feelings. Mom asks me whether she can use something of mine or if she can look at my drawings, so why shouldn't I ask if she has something special planned for that day and if I can go? Call me what you want, a sissy, a momma's girl, I don't care, because I think that this is part of the reason why my mother and I rarely fight. And as to why I gripe about my family, doesn't everybody? It's normal to grumble about your own family, because let's face it, they're practically the only people in the world who know exactly what buttons to push, when to push and how many times to push to get us pissed. Am I right?

Now, about me going to the cottage. Well, call me crazy, but I like to help out my mother when she asks and when I know the task entails bending over to pick things, lifting things or the repeating of either or both of these things. And the reason to that is because my mother has several types of rheumathism, and the only way she can even get out of the goddamn bed in the morning is with a pillcoctail of painkillers and whatnots so severe that it'd knock a healthy 80 kg man out like a light and she'll still be in pain. So when she cleans, there are two choices and two outcomes: either I don't help and she does so much work that she can't get out of the bed even with the meds and she will be in severe pain for the next couple of days, or I help and maybe, just maybe she'll be well enough to walk the next day. Ah, but of course, this is absolutely nothing compared to the ardous and dangerous task of shopping for fabrics. Go figure.

And like I said, absolutely no one can demand me to change myself, just so it would suit that other person better. None of us are perfect, therefore, none of us have the right to tell others to change. Look into yourself before looking into others. I grudginlgy make an exception in my philosophy when it comes to alcoholics or other addicts, as they often go blind on their own addiction and hurt themselves just as much as they hurt the ones close to them.

As for A's self-imposed martyrdom, I can happily inform her that while I have rarely given her something corporeal to touch, she hasn't exactly been empty-handed herself. And despite the fact that this is going to sound incredibly self-centered, I can say that I've been helping with her English, helping her with translation, with her stories, with her photographs, I've listened to her whine and mope about not getting comments even though she knew she'd probably not get them (why the hell post then?!), I've listened to her angst about the quality of her photographs and I've tried to reassure her that they're fine, they're better than average, they're okay, she shouldn't worry, her stories are great, her costumes are great and giving her the damn attention she so much seems to crave. (Okay, that was a bad thing to say...)

So what if she hates dealing over the phone, she's gonna have to eventually when she's an adult. I hate it too and I still tried to contact her via the phone. Like my mother tells me when I don't answer, why the hell do you have a phone if you don't use it?

And as for me being lazy. Well she can't possibly say that as the truth, now can she? She's not watching me 24/7, ergo she cannot say for certain if I am or am not lazy. But for now, let's say I have way too much on my mind and buying fabrics ain't exactly a top priority to me.

And her claims about me being a bad person. Well sweetheart, if I truly am such a bad, bad, leeching, despicable, horrible, abusing and dark person, why didn't you bring it up earlier during these years we've known eachother? And if the answer has anything to do with saving my feelings, then don't bother, I'm practically mechanic: I feel very little on the emotional level. Damn girl, if you'd've brought it up earlier, I'd have happily talked about it with you!

I'm not sure what possessed her to think that I'd throw myself at her feet and beg for her forgiveness after her ultimatum, but that might've pissed her off that I didn't. Hm, funny, first she complains when I don't have a spine and then she complains when I do. I'm not about to jump when she tells me to, so she can forget about that one. And as I said before, when you go after my family, you can bet your sorry ass you'll get fire and brimstone from this end. See, after having my family broken apart twice in a relatively short span of time (9 years is too short if you ask me), I tend to get a bit protective of what I still have left. Shocker, huh?

But let's see, bottomline... I could've handled all this better, but so could've she. I made mistakes, so did she. There's two sides to every argument, and as the saying goes: "When the hunter tells his story, he always gets the lion. But what would the story be like if the lion would be telling it?". Alas, my side was not relevant in this argument.

Now, am I sad that we're not friends anymore? Hmm... Nope, not really. I know I should be, but I'm not. All this little ordeal has aroused in me is irritation and exasperation at most. Of all the people I know I expected her to be a bit more adult about this, but I see I didn't know her well enough. As I mentioned before, I barely feel emotions. Kinda scary, really, because I literally can't bring myself to care. A blessing and a curse, in my opinion (thank you childhood trauma/drama). I'm well aware that I'm slow and ponderous, but that's who I am! I want to be certain about things before doing anything, and I want to keep a certain objectivity in my life. This often prevents me from going postal on a daily basis. And for those who are gasping "how could [I] do this" and "why [am I] doing this" I can say that this is my side of the story, posted here because it was either this or continuous headaches. She has her version of the happenings, and neither of them is right nor are they wrong.

But here it is. Comment, don't comment, agree, disagree, do what you want. I'll be happy to talk with people if they so wish. But at the moment I'm tired of this dramatic BS, even though I'm pretty sure I'm just throwing oil into a gasoline-fire here. Just do me a favor, okay? If you do comment, please, be better than I am at the moment: be mature. And for the love of god, don't take sides in this matter.
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