So, I was hanging with my friend again, but this time we were at another friend’s house. Well, his friend’s house – not mine. I don’t recall ever meeting her. I must have though, because she’s lived here her entire life and used to hang with some of the same people I did. Of course, during and immediately after high school I didn’t seek out new friends. I was a busy girl. Then I met Bobby and we became a social scene all our own. Anyway…
So, I’m sitting there listening to these two talk and kind of watching a ballgame. I hate baseball. Have I ever mentioned that? By the gods, it’s boring. However, last summer I had occasion to throw out the first pitch at an Indians game. It was a noon game, so not too many people, but enough that I nearly died from stage fright. Anyway, while I was watching, the pitcher who caught my ball came up to the mound. Well, I was excited because, well, I met that guy, right?
I start telling the story. My friend already knew I’d thrown the first pitch because I had the video on my Instagram and Facebook. But I wanted to tell him how stupid I was when I was meeting these players. I mean, I wasn’t stupid stupid. I was just myself – with no filter at all1. I’m laughing, he’s laughing and she’s…
Interrupting to talk about a basketball player she met and another baseball player she met and… I couldn’t finish my story, obviously. I just stare at her for a minute. I know I must know her somehow, but I feel like I just met her so I didn’t want to be rude. I look at my friend and he’s trying hard to stifle a laugh. He can tell what I’m thinking – probably because he was thinking the same thing. I wasn’t telling the story because of the celebrity aspect – it was because of my mouth. But she didn’t know that, so she was competing. Then suddenly she starts talking about all this history that she has with my friend’s family. I recognized that right away. It was her way of telling me that I’m not really a part of their thing because I’m not part of the history. I couldn’t have rolled my eyes harder.
This is the kind of thing I hate about this place. I have known this friend since I was 14 years old. That’s 30 fucking years. Thirty fucking years. And still I was reminded that I haven’t been around long enough to be a part of this thing. This is the sort of thing everyone does when they meet a new person. They don’t get to know the new person. They like to remind them that they’re new.
Now that I think on this I’m probably as guilty as anyone of this when I’m with long-time friends. The difference is I have fucking manners and won’t interrupt for some nonsense. I had a funny story to tell. My dumb ass acted like myself on that ball field and I had those players cracking up. This is a good story to me, because this is typical of me. I don’t have enough sense to have filter2. But, yeah, I’ve been known to stroll down memory lane. I just don’t do it in an attempt to make myself more important than I really am.
Anyway, I should know this woman. She’s my age and she’s a lifer in this town. But I didn’t go to elementary school or most of middle school here. I came here in the 8th grade. I didn’t socialize with all of those people. I didn’t start getting to know anyone until I was in high school and by then I was already a permanent outsider. But my best friend and I had our own clique until after high school. Then I met Bobby and, well, we were “Bob & Jen the Power Couple” – we had our own social group and this friend was part of that group. Then I moved away for 6 1/2 years. That makes me even more of an outsider. I didn’t go to this bar before it closed or that bar before it closed or that bar before it burned down. I was in a whole other city. Bad, bad JJ. It’s funny how small this town is and how separated certain groups of people are. Funny in a “this place sucks the soul right out of you” kind of way.
On another note, I spent some time with Other Sis and my grandmother3 yesterday. I’m very special to my grandmother because when I was young I looked exactly like my aunt who died from Leukemia when she was 5. But I don’t really get around very much because it causes problems with my sister. That’s neither here nor there for the purposes of this story. I explained to my sister why I didn’t go to church and I told her the story I sent in the email. My sister said it was a really nice story, but wondered if I might not be hormonal. She went on to say that this guy is obviously a rebound from Lucifer4 and that, well, my hormones are probably all out of whack. She wondered if there was any other reason I would have been so emotional yesterday. Hmmm. I don’t think so.
Welp, I’m going with that. All of this change, all of the drama, all the pain, the stress… It’s taken a toll on me. If I were in my right state of mind I wouldn’t have given a flying fuck what was going on with dude or that he was all moved on. I told her that I need a rebound. She says “you need to take some time”. I don’t need another rebound, she told me. I need to get over Lucifer. I laughed at that. What? It’s been a long time already. But, here’s the thing, she’s kind of right. I’m still struggling with how I let that motherfucking piece of donkey offal get inside my head and do this to me. There’s a weakness in my armor and I have to find it. Also, there was a point in our relationship when he made me more happy than anyone has since Bobby and I actually got along. That’s been a long time. Then, of course, I realized he’s the goddamned devil incarnate – too late. Wtf? I think she’s smoking something more than weed, but whatever. I might agree with the hormones thing5. That makes more sense, because, man, fuck Lucifer. And so I cleaned up my blog a bit. The last month is now nothing more than a blur and I would like to keep it that way.
Let’s pretend none of that happened, shall we?
- My friend knows how I am, of course. He’s the one who told me to never, ever change. [↩]
- And this is why my boss doesn’t send me out into the community to do business-to-business advertising. [↩]
- Yes, my grandmother is very much alive thankyouverymuch. [↩]
- I argued, but she had a point and refused to budge. [↩]
- This last guy and I had a lot of sex. Oftentimes it was unsatisfying but I kept trying. Because my libido is off the charts. [↩]