Friendship

My childhood (and adulthood) best friend, Dora, is very different from me. I don't mean that she's quiet and I'm loud; no, our differences are philological and political. She is a conservative christian, and I'm such an agnostic liberal that I'm not sure if it's grammatically correct to capitalize the word "christian."

We became friends in the first grade before either of us developed any strong political views. This was a time when our most difficult decisions were which playground equipment to use that day. It was a simpler time in every way, and it enabled us to build a friendship neither of us will ever have again. 

I don't say that to demean the friendships we've developed since; I just mean that you gain an intimate understanding of someone when you've known them since grade school. I have a similar relationship with my friend Kasey, who I met when I was around 10 or so. Both friends were there for some of the worst times in my life. 

When my grandfather killed himself, they were there. When my first boyfriend broke up with me, they were there. When my personality changed abruptly because of an abusive relationship, they remained friends with me and have been amazingly supportive since I explained what was going on under the surface. 

(Kasey and I had an on-and-off friendship throughout high school because we both have very strong personalities, but we've both calmed down now and our friendship is better than ever.) 

The memories I have with those two can't be rivaled. I remember spending long days at my nana's pool with them and singing at the top of our lungs in the car when we had all just turned 16 and drove for the sake of driving. Dora's first boyfriend broke up with her the same year my first boyfriend broke up with me, so we spent a lot of time venting about how stupid those boys were. 

As we got older, we all started to realize that we didn't share the same views. I was more or less the odd man out; Dora and Kasey shared basic beliefs (conservatism and Christianity) while I began developing distinctly liberal views. The neat thing about it is that we could, and still can, have discussions about these things without attacking each other. 

I told Gideon this recently, and he said that's likely because we see each other as people rather than opponents. I don't fear telling Dora how I feel about hot topics like gay marriage, abortion and, recently, the Josh Duggar scandal because I know she'll listen to what I have to say. She doesn't assume I'm a bad person because I'm pro-choice, and I don't believe her anti-gay marriage stance reflects negatively on her. 

Most of this is because we express ourselves respectfully. Though we will never have the same worldview, we share compassion and respect for others. That, I think, is what makes our friendship so phenomenal. I give Dora a lot of credit for putting up with me, because I know I sometimes come across as brash when I don't mean to. Fortunately, she's known me long enough to understand what I mean, not just what I've said.

The same is true for Kasey. She has told me in the past that something I've said offended her, and I've been quick to apologize for it. Like Dora, she gives me the benefit of the doubt. I hope I do the same thing for them. 

These girls understand me in ways few people do. I've had such wonderful memories with both of them, and I've had equally wonderful conversations with them about politics and religion. I think there's a lot of value to having friendships like this; if I were surrounded by people who believe exactly as I do, I think I'd be much more likely to insult those who don't.

As it is, I'm grateful for the variety these friendships have brought my life. We believe different things, but we love each other all the same.

And that's all that matters.

Car trouble

After getting home from dinner, Gideon accidentally slams the car door into the car next to us. That car is our other car, because we are lower middle class and owning it. My nana gave us the car last year, and Gideon has been using it primarily to drive to work.

Me: Oh no! You scratched it!
- a beat -
Me: Never mind. You hit our car.
Gideon: Keeping it in the family.

Fat talk

My friend Kelby is very tall and thin but expressed to me recently that he fears gaining weight. Often, he said, he believes he's much larger than he actually is. When he said that, I realized that I do the exact same thing.

Now, I'm not claiming to be some Amazonian woman. I'm definitely overweight. I know that. My butt could tell you so. But I'm much thinner now than I was two years ago, and I still see myself as large as I was then. I sometimes catch myself avoiding mirrors and jumping out of group photos just as I did then, hoping to avoid my image.

Considering I've gone down three pants sizes in two years, I'm wondering if I'm avoiding the image in my mind rather than how I'll look in a mirror or on film. In my mind, I'm still that person who wears old dresses and skirts to avoid the reality of pants-shopping. In my mind, I'm still that person who didn't go through sorority recruitment because I knew I didn't look the part.

I remember being much larger and always feeling judged when I entered a room. When I recall this, I don't think it was just in my head. People did see me differently when I was much larger. That's to say they didn't see me at all; instead, they saw a fat specimen. I was a thing to be mocked. I was sub-human.

Kelby confessed to having this same fear, saying he never wants to gain weight because he's seen the way others ridicule overweight people. Hell, I've been guilty of it myself sometimes and I'm obviously not fitting into any of Nicole Richie's clothes any time soon. The way I rationalize making fun of a fat person is by insulting people I don't like for reasons other than their weight.

If someone cuts me off in traffic, I'll throw a fat joke his or her way. I'd never do this to someone I like. If I like someone, his or her weight doesn't matter to me. But as I write this, I'm beginning to question if that's really a good explanation for insulting someone else based on his or her appearance.

How would I feel if I knew these people were doing the same thing to me? And what does it say about our culture that overweight people mock others for being overweight?

I feel the same sentiment applies to all appearance-based judgement. Too thin, too tall, too much acne, too pear-shaped. I've heard overweight women attack thin women. I've heard thin women attack overweight women. I've heard thin women attack other thin women.

I truly believe that, most of the time, insults aren't based on a person's appearance but rather what he or she has done or said. Fat (or thin) jokes are just a way to attack a person you dislike that much more.

It's still not cool. We should insult other people because of the people they are, not because of their appearance.

That could be one of my campaign slogans when I run for public office.

Murder she (me!) wrote

Gideon and I have been watching a lot of Forensic Files, which is the perfect show to watch if you want to feel paranoid about every choice you make. 

Forgot your wallet at home and have to run out to your car early in the morning to pick it up? You're going to get kidnapped. Leaving the store late at night and no one's around your car? Someone's going to pull up and shoot at you. Finally found the person you want to spend your life with? That person is going to murder you.

It's terrifying how many of the cases featured on that show might not have happened had the victim made one different choice. The case that sticks out to me is this older couple who was vacationing in a town where they stayed in a condo. (I was immediately  jealous that they had their own condo.) The couple never returned home; it turned out later that they were murdered by this awful couple who wanted to kill another couple for the thrill of it.

How many times a day do we do things that could land us in that same situation? Just last week, Gideon and I met two schoolteachers from Texas during our nightly walk. The teachers offered us wine and we sat down and chatted for two hours. It was pleasant and I enjoyed it, but I realize now that they could have easily drugged us or killed us. 

(I must note that they did not drug or kill us and instead gave us wine and talked about Texas politics. At the end of the night, one of the women told me that I'm beautiful and I was so intoxicated that I laughed and fell over. As you can see, I'm getting better and better at accepting compliments from strangers.)

The problem is Gideon's tall and strong but completely lacks body awareness, and I'm big and wide but can only inflict damage by accidentally sitting on people's limbs or hair. We wouldn't stand a chance against someone who wanted to kill us.

I suppose the fortunate thing is that forensics would solve the crime rather quickly. So yes, we could be axe-murdered but our killers would likely leave a fingerprint or other DNA evidence behind. 

If you're wondering, yes, this is how I sleep at night. 

The ex factor

When my ex-boyfriend and I broke up in 2013, we did the whole song and dance about remaining friends. We broke up over the phone because I have problems with confrontation and wanted the relationship to slowly die rather than end messily.

I remember sitting in my college dorm room with South Park on TV and half-watching it as he told me that he was sad it was over. I was crying a bit but also trying to read the subtitles on the TV. (I muted the television because I'm super classy.)

"You're still my best friend, you know?" he asked me.

"Yeah," I said sincerely. "We should stay friends."

It probably should have occurred to me at that moment that I was a bit more over the breakup than he was; I managed to change my relationship status to "single" on all social media and throw out all the stuff he gave me in the three years that we dated during the hour-long phone call. He heard me shuffling around at one point and asked me what I was doing.

"Throwing away all the cards you gave me," I told him, totally unaware that it was the wrong thing to say at that moment.

"Why would you do that?" he asked. 

I didn't know how to respond, so I murmured something about getting rid of memories. In all honesty, I was excited to de-clutter my desk. I felt this might have been the wrong thing to say to someone who was upset, so I kept that to myself. 

We did try to stay friends after that, but I pretty quickly realized that it wasn't that easy to stay friends with someone I wasn't even friends with prior to dating. Around this time, he revealed himself to be more possessive and manipulative than I had expected, which made me question our new friendship that much more. 

Once he heard that I was moving on with Gideon, he started insulting me to lower my self-esteem. He called me about a month after we'd broken up to tell me he cuddled with a girl who was skinny, saying he liked it because it was "nice to fit [his] arms all the way around a girl for once." 

"What the fuck?" I remember saying. He said he "didn't mean it that way," but he definitely meant it that way. 

Our last interaction was New Year's Eve. He knew I had plans to go see The Old 97's with Gideon at the House of Blues in Dallas that night, so he called me right before we went out for dinner in Dallas. 

"I just wanted to tell you that I love you and I miss you," he told me. "Happy New Year's Eve."

I didn't know what to say to that. Gideon was right next to me and could hear everything my ex was saying, and I felt cornered. 

"MERRY CHRISTMAS!" I screamed at my ex. That ended the call.

Now I know he was trying to manipulate me not just after we'd broken up but throughout our entire relationship. That said, I don't think the "let's be friends" thing would have worked even if our relationship was healthy. We weren't friends to start with. How could we be friends after the fact?

I'm not friends with my first boyfriend, and he and I were friends for a painfully long time before we started dating. We then dated for six months and called it quits after our first fight, because we were teenagers. After that, I glared at him passive-aggressively for our entire senior year and spoke to him once or twice following graduation.

As you can see, I've always been amazing at handling awkward situations. 

Do any of you think exes can genuinely be friends? I'm not doubting that it's possible; maybe I think it's just not possible for me personally. As my mother once told me, "when I'm done with someone I'm done for good." She really did raise me to be a hard-ass. 

I do think it's important to know your limits; if a breakup is messy and painful, the person you're with has probably tested your limits a bit too much. Being friends with an ex can also hinder future relationships. Say what you will, but I'm not sure you'll find many people who are totally okay with you frequently being around a person you once enjoyed romantically. 

If you're still friends with an ex and thinking about how stupid I am for writing this, I completely understand where you're coming from. I freely admit that I could be wrong about this.

I mean, I did devote almost four cumulative years to men I have no desire to speak to anymore. 

How to quit a sorority in five easy steps

I quit the sorority I was in about two and a half years ago. It really was a long time coming, but that doesn't mean I slowly pulled away from the group until quietly resigning. No, I think it's safe to say I went out with a fairly loud bang.

I know what you're wondering. How can you, a man or woman stuck in a group you really don't want to be in, leave in a way that lets everyone know exactly how you feel? You're in luck, because I've condensed it down to five bullet points.

1. Let people walk over you for an extended period of time.

This is the longest step, but it's probably also the most important. First let me say that I know I made mistakes in my sorority. I was passive aggressive and prone to freaking out over tiny things. I'm a freak about organization and often felt no one in that group wanted to be organized in any way. Still, that doesn't mean I didn't want everyone to like me. I wanted this so much that it overwhelmed me when I knew I had to execute an event or take perfect minutes (I was the secretary) or help executive committee devise a plan for people who wanted to acquire inactive status.

I knew people were talking about me behind my back, and I knew my actions were being scrutinized at every turn. That didn't stop me from trying to pull off organized events. Sometimes I think so many of those girls hated me because I wanted to be part of a group with rules, and most of them just wanted to party.

I remember when one of the sisters called a freshman who had not joined the sorority yet her "little sister" on social media. This was problematic because it was public and, in the context of the conversation, could have suggested that we were offering bids before recruitment week had happened. If any of the girls in the other sororities on campus cared enough to explore this, I knew we would lose probably the only bid we had. 

After I spoke up about it, I was attacked from every direction. The president of the sorority even dared to take me to disciplinary, where the girl who broke the rule calmly belittled me until I screamed at her and left. This was an extreme version of the way those girls pushed me around; there were plenty of other micro-aggressions that took place prior to and following it. 

But I stuck with it until one night when I got so pissed off that I literally couldn't see straight. That might also have something to do with me not wearing my glasses that night. Anyway, that brings us to the next step.

2. Get really, really pissed off at a public event your group is hosting.

I don't mean that-jackass-took-my-parking-spot pissed off, though that is very valid and I experience that anger at least once a week. (My stupid neighbor's friends constantly park in MY SPOT even though I never park in the guest parking. It's actually really infuriating.)

No, you need to get so upset that you feel you can't breathe anymore. This happened for me on the last night of recruitment week when we were throwing a party for the girls we wanted most. These girls were the cream of the crop, so everyone should have been on their best behavior. I'm sure it surprises you, but they were not.

I could have handled the disorganization. I could have dealt with people giving me side-eye every time I asked if we had all the materials we needed. I could not, however, look half of my alleged sisters in the eye after what happened the night before. Along with a few of the girls, I had helped devise a plan for the final party. It was an art gallery theme and it was seriously beautiful. We held a meeting before buying materials two nights before the party (better late than never, right?) and learned that a rogue group of sisters had an idea to propose, too. The idea was to have a game show theme with paper tablecloths and chips and dip. For a cocktail party! FOR A COCKTAIL PARTY!

Fortunately, the majority of us voted that it was a truly shitty idea and kept with the art theme. Unfortunately, the president of the sorority was the person to propose the new idea. She decided to wait until 1 a.m. that night to text all of us to come to the apartment to vote; when we got there, she tried to call quorum and vote her idea in. It didn't work but it did piss off three quarters of the sisters. 

The president moped around at the beautiful party we had planned and executed the next day and tried to attack me for not moving a can of soda from the floor. Keep in mind that we still had 20 minutes before anyone important arrived. Instead of insulting her to her face, I picked up the soda and walked to the trash can while loudly repeating, "BITCH!"

That was the end of it for me.

3. Leave the event. Don't let others know how upset you are.

Though I admittedly went a little nuts before the party started, I pretended all was well when the prospective sisters arrived. The party went incredibly well by all accounts, and I even accepted the president's apology after it ended. 

Then I went home and wrote angry haikus while listening to The Cure. That helped me decide on the next step.

4. The next morning, send everyone a passive aggressive email.

I woke up the next morning knowing I wanted to quit. But how? How should I let everyone know that I was really, truly pissed off and done with almost all of them? The answer to that question is simple: an email. I'd describe the email for you, but I think it would be better if you could see it in all its glory.

Click to enlarge!

My favorite thing about this email is how vague and passive aggressive it is. I call my leaving "somewhat sad news" because the only thing that made me sad about it was all that money I paid to the sorority while I was in it. Then there's the way I imply that I love "most" of the sisters and that "most" of them have good hearts. This was brilliant, because it led to many sisters asking me later on if I was talking about them.

"Nooooooo," I'd tell them. "Of course I wasn't talking about you! I love you! We haven't spoken since I quit and I'd be happy if that continued, but I think you're great!"

I know I come off as a bit of a jerk in this email, but I still consider it one of my crowning achievements during college. And in all honesty, I'm cool with being a jerk to people who treated me poorly for nearly two years.

5. Delete all those people you are no longer required to be friends with from your phone and on social media.

This is the best part, guys. When you quit a sorority or fraternity, you no longer have to be friends with any of those people you paid to be friends with! I recall gleefully deleting sorority sisters from my Facebook profile and my phone. For the girls I really, really hated, I'd even ignore them in public. One of them tried to speak to me on an elevator - there were other people in the elevator, too - and I just flat out ignored her the whole ride.

It felt amazing. 

I feel I should reiterate that many women and men have wonderful experiences in their sororities/fraternities, and I know that to be true. Unfortunately, I did not have that experience. One of the sisters I've since made up with messaged me a while back saying she didn't know how to take my bashing the sorority publicly. I told her that I didn't want her to take it personally and that I'm just trying to find some humor in a bad situation. I meant that.

I have ill will toward one or two of the girls in that sorority now, but most of it has dissipated. I want you to know that if you're in the situation I was in, that bitterness doesn't last too long after you leave the environment. People are people. We all make mistakes. I made mistakes in that sorority and so did lots of other people.

As I said, I'm just trying to find the humor in a surprisingly universal, negative experience. If any of my former sisters are reading this and I haven't spit on your shoe in public, know that we're cool. 

(Yes, I spit on someone's shoe in public. No regrets.)

Proof that my cat runs the show

I returned from the bathroom early yesterday morning, intending to get back into bed for a few minutes before going to work. But BJ had stretched across my side of the bed. You can't see it in this photo, but he gave me a look that said, "I'll fight you if you try to move me." 

So I got dressed and fixed my hair and went to work earlier than planned. He was still there when I left. 

How does my cat have more attitude than I do?