I was just refilling my humidifiers (and no, I have no idea why filling tanks of water made me think of this) and I remembered a funny story from my last “years” of school before I got so sick. It was the year in which I was supposed to graduate, and I partook in the graduation festivities as did the rest of my class – people I knew knew my circumstances and more or less were kind enough to take it upon themselves not to treat me any “differently;” that is to say, they treated me as if I were also graduating. My how things change over time and with … “partners,” especially of the female type (that sounds terribly misogynistic, I realize … but I don’t mean for it to be. I am really a “feminist” as much as one can “be” a feminist, but I also believe that many if not most “women” tend to behave very much like snakes when men they have their eyes on for whatever reason – often $$$ – are involved).
At any rate, we had such a party – it was a graduation / end of the year / everybody is going their separate ways kind of party. It was at the shared apartment (at that time) of me and my second Chinese roommate, who, for a reason still unknown to me, started just kind of hating me out of the blue. At any rate, there were two guys (three, actually) that I was very good friends with and who were only acquaintances with my roommate. For OUR present – namely, MY present, since they knew my sh!t and cared much more than my roommate did at that time – they bought a giant bottle of Grey Goose. *Note: I was later asked to their “graduation” parties and I brought them presents as well – namely very strange types of vodka and other liquor that weren’t quite as expensive but were great gifts because they were “fun;” things like habeñero vodka and things of the sort.* At any rate, the party eventually ended, the night and the next day came, and so did the monotony that typically followed.
HOWEVER, despite the fact that I had set the bottle of Grey Goose aside so the “guests” would not consume it, I couldn’t find it anywhere. I was dating someone at the time (my longest relationship, almost five years – and no, I don’t want to talk about it more than that) which I do believe led, at least in part, to the discord with my roommate, and he suggested that perhaps the roommate had stashed it somewhere where I wouldn’t be able to find it. I thought it was a ridiculous thought because like … who would do that? And especially at such an expensive, prestigious school? And especially when the friends who gave the gift weren’t YOUR friends? However, the days went by and the bottle was still nowhere to be found. To make a long story short, by this time, the roommate was staying at her boyfriend’s shared house (now her husband – which is a story too hilarious to write succinctly here!) just to avoid me and so my boyfriend at the time and I took it upon ourselves to make sure the roommate would be gone for awhile while we hunted through her room. Voila! Buried deep in her closet was what was essentially MY bottle of Grey Goose. I never even was able to drink a drop from that bottle.
In the end, the “friends” who gave me that bottle turned out to be some of the worst “friends” a person could have – the kind that just leave you in a ditch and don’t even acknowledge your “happy birthday!”s and “how are you?”s after you have said “I am too sick to get to Pittsburgh” so many times. I know that if I hadn’t been so sick, things might be a LOT different right now. But he is where he “deserves” to be, that is, married with the female version of himself who seems to have nothing much to talk about but their very specific field of study. *That is funny as well because one night BEFORE I was so sick, this person invited me out with a group of his “friends” and they were ALL THE SAME – you would think a weekend trip with a loft table at a local bar would bring about all kinds of exciting conversation … but these people were the type whose heads were too deeply shoved up their own … you-know-wheres … trying to sound smarter than the next about very similar very specific fields of study. Nauseating. And honestly the most boring trip to a bar I have ever had in my life. The only “fun” was afterward when we separated at least in part from “the group” and had a couple of cheap cigars and a goofy kiss.*
I suppose the moral of this “story” / anecdote (more like stories and anecdotes …) is that you really should believe who people tell you are the first time around. That goes for the roommate (perhaps not as much as the others, but she was too busy trying to catch a guy who could give her what she wanted in life – kids, a marriage, $$, and not having to work – it worked.); it CERTAINLY goes for the ex- and it also goes for the ex-friends. If people show you sides of themselves they really like about themselves that you really dislike? Please save yourself the time and aggravation and exit ASAP!
And with that, I will stop ranting … at least for the night! I hope you all have a wonderful evening (or day) wherever you are in the world and I wish you all health and happiness! To the better things – and people – ahead.
❤ Always, Beth