After stories and stories of my wild and crazy days as of late, I’m sure you’re all expecting some amazing stories to be published here.
But not today.
Despite a few minor happenings over the last few weeks, I was happy to spend the weekend at home, sleeping.
Last weekend, I forgot to mention that I ran into Fred after my day at the pool with Nicole & Ben—OF COURSE I would see him when I was looking like shit, right? Oh well.
Wednesday, I was forced to see JBelt as he was the one taking the pictures for my latest freelance story. However, I think I handled it well, but simply ignoring him as best I could. Friday, I went to the meeting and I was still obviously pissed over the recent happenings. So I walked into the office, listed all of the mistakes in the latest issue and asked if I could leave.
JBelt: Do you have any pitches? Anything else? I feel like I’m not paying enough attention to you.
And that was that.
Friday night, I ran into the dynamic duo: Josh & Jesse—remember the two guys who think they’re a ten and make fun of everyone around them? Yeah, it was awkward. I left the bar without saying much to either of them and I didn’t give a shit.
When I got home that night, Josh had sent me a text: “Great to see you. Glad we didn’t talk.”
Oh really, we’re opening that can of worms at 1:30 am? Okay.
I wrote him back saying exactly how I felt: “Last time I saw you, you were making fun of everyone around me and I don’t want to be a part of it.”
Naturally, he wrote back saying he had no idea (sure) I felt that way and if he would have known that, he would’ve stopped immediately.
I’m sick of men. Period.
Saturday morning, I somehow made it to the gym for boxing class. It was my first time showing up slightly hungover…and it was a pretty bad idea. I was sweating more than normal, and had a difficult time paying attention. I barely made it through class, and spent most of the rest of my day sleeping on my couch.
I woke up just in time for dinner, and mentally made a note that I wasn’t going to go to Leslie’s going away party.
Remember Leslie? I last saw her in December or January when she was stalking her boyfriend via the zoom on her camera. I never thought they would last, but now six months later, they are moving across the country together.
A few weeks ago, she sent me a text saying she was engaged.
My first question: did you get a ring?
No. No, she didn’t get a ring, and there was no proposal—he just knows he is going to marry her.
Umm…that is not an engagement. That is you being obsessed with a comment he made in passing and living with your head in the clouds, my dear.
Don’t get me wrong. No guy has ever has me to move in with him, let alone move across the country, so I am happy for her. But moving across the country, with a guy you’ve been dating for six months, without a ring (a sign of commitment) is a big deal.
She later said to me, “we’ll get engaged in the winter.”
Like oh, you’re setting a date to get engaged? Not really how it’s supposed to work, but whatever.
Maybe I am just a bitter friend. But yeah, I didn’t go to the party. I wanted to go and say goodbye…but it was a costume party. I didn’t have a costume, didn’t feel like slapping one together and was definitely not going to buy one.
Instead, I asked her if we could go to lunch or dinner, since I probably wouldn’t be able to talk to her much at her party…weeks ago she said, “oh, of course!” But I never heard from her.
So, we both slacked as far as I’m concerned.
Anyway, only 4 more days ’till I make the trek to Gizzy’s house! I’m pretty pissed that I actually have to go to work on the days leading up to such a monumentous event, but it has to be done.
And with that, I’m off.