Friday, 28 December 2012

Birthday Eve

I hope you had a good Christmas.

Mine was quite nice, thanks for asking.

On to more important matters.


Tomorrow (the 29th) is my birthday. My twenty-fifth birthday.

I will be spending the day being sober, single and depressed. Just like last year.

Not much else as changed either, so - to save myself some time - I'd like to direct you to the thing I wrote for my twenty-fourth. Here it is.

Rather upsettingly, everything still applies.

Anyway, as we're quickly leaving the small portion of the year where I am allowed to make wishlists - having been cursed with such a ridiculous birth date - I have decided to make the most of it. And also to assist those of you who have yet to buy me a present.


Things I Would Like For My Birthday:

1. A baby sloth.

2. To be a guest on Dr Phil.

3. An otter enclosure in the garden.

4. A spider-proof house.

5. A 'The Wesley Crushers' tshirt.

6. A platypus or a hedgehog.

7. Longer hair.

8. Self-actualisation.

9. My own sitcom.

10. All the Maltesers.


I will wait eagerly by the door, dear readers.


Friday, 21 December 2012

Any Last Words?

This could well be the last thing I ever write. How depressing.

Today, according to the Mayans (or, more accurately, people who have chosen to misinterpret the Mayans) is THE ACTUAL BLOODY APOCALYPSE.


Given that the world could start exploding at any moment, you'd expect me to be out getting drunk or eating something that the myfitnesspal app would disapprove of, wouldn't you? But no.

Due to the possibility of impending death, this evening I found myself involved in a discussion about the things that would haunt me in my final moments - the things I never got to do. Some people had places they wanted to visit or foreign beers they wanted to drink, but I couldn't let myself off that lightly.

After a horrendously honest conversation (mostly one-sided, and not in the way that I enjoy) earlier this week, I have been more than a little bit preoccupied with the amount of emotional damage I go around causing.

While said conversation succeeded in punching a hole through my chest, it also brought up some other stuff.

Ancient stuff.


Once upon a time, there was a girl.

She was as warm and bright as I am cold and disapproving. Such was the contrast between us, in fact, that people often expressed surprise that we were so close. But we saw it another way. Together, we were like one properly functioning person.

Although we'd been friends since we were eleven, we got really close when we were fifteen. Her boyfriend was in a metal band and, together, we discovered how much nicer that kind of music sounds when you've had a few drinks. When offered a place at a prestigious Sixth Form a year or so later, I turned it down so that I wouldn't have to miss her for five days a week for the next two years. And as I looked at universities, knowing that she wasn't coming with me, I kept my options within commuting distance.

We were, to the chagrin of our respective boyfriends and other less high-ranking friends, planning a lovely little future together.

But then, right before we took our final exams, we had an argument. A stupid one, really.

We both said some stuff. I said more, because THAT IS JUST WHAT I DO. And then we just didn't talk anymore.

It was as sudden as it sounds, I'm afraid.

Shortly after, I went off to university and made friends with people who were entirely too much like me, and she got a good job and found people who - even from my jealous and agonised perspective - were just a much better fit for her.

I have never directly apologised for what happened between us (and neither has she, by the way) but I should have - regardless of how little that would have achieved.

Apologising, I thought, would have merely been a way of inflicting myself on her for that little bit longer. She was better off without me, so - considering that I thought we could never possibly go back to how we were - why not have a clean break? What difference would an apology make?

(Here we have an epiphany. It may not seem like one, given that I am told that this is just COMMON SENSE to most people, but I have honestly never considered that my walking away was anything but a good deed.)

That apology, however awkward or laboured or fruitless, would have told her that she meant something to me. That, despite everything that I'd said and done, I wanted her to be as okay as she could be, whether or not it meant that she forgave me.

I should have apologised.

We should have made up.

You know what else should have happened? We should have grown old together.


So, if you are reading this - and I hope that you are - I'm sorry. And I miss you.

And, also, good luck with the apocalypse.


Wednesday, 5 December 2012

Different Fights

"He's still friends with his ex-girlfriend on facebook. He won't delete her! We've been arguing about this for two days. LOOK AT HER!"

Earlier this evening I received a string of frantic messages, followed by an even more frantic phone call, from a psychotic friend we'll call A. Her boyfriend of just under a year, as you can probably gather from the statement above, is currently steadfast in his refusal to unfriend his ex-girlfriend on facebook.

While I understand that this is a big deal to my fellow Crazy Bitch, there, I'm going to surprise the ENTIRE INTERNET by saying that I'm not actually taking her side on this one. (See disclaimer.)

DISCLAIMER: Please note that I don't advocate this kind of behaviour, despite understanding it completely. I don't think people need to pretend that the past hasn't happened, and I don't think that communication should stop when people break up. I also don't think facebook matters. But whatever.

I went and had a look at this girl. She is the kind of ex-girlfriend we all dread, I'm afraid. Even I - someone who can spot flaws in a fresh manicure at twenty paces - cannot fault her aesthetic appeal.

And as I looked up from her facebook page to the tear-stained face of my closest confidante, taking note of the false eyelashes now clinging to one of her smudged eyebrows, I felt a massive tug of sympathy.

I get it. Of course I do. We all do.

That said, it might come as a bit of a shock for you to find out that I don't set much store by the previous relationships of people that I'm dating. My jealousy tends to focus itself upon the people that might replace me, not the ones who have gone before and who can no longer be deemed a threat.

And that's largely the situation here. This ex-girlfriend has moved on, just as A's boyfriend has, and there is absolutely nothing to suggest that there is anything more between them than an innocent link on a social networking site.

But try telling A that.

I imagine that a few of you have been in this situation. I certainly have, just not for several years and certainly not while playing the part of Crazy Bitch.

Still, I can guarantee that this exchange took place at some point:

"We don't even talk!"
"If you don't talk, then why do you need her as a friend on facebook?"
"She added me. I was just being polite!"
"Do you still fancy her?"
"We don't even talk!"

Ad infinitum.

As this is my blog, I should probably tell you that I would, at this point, recommend that you concede while reserving the right to bring the whole thing back up whenever it suits you in the future. But for now I'd be done.

A, however, hasn't spoken to her boyfriend about anything else for two days.

The key thing here is that they are fighting about entirely different things.

Right now, he is under the impression that this is simply about the facebook thing. He thinks that A is trying to control him, and he's not going to let that happen. He, I imagine, probably thinks that the whole thing would stop if he just unfriended his ex. And, after a day or so more of this, he probably will do as he's been asked in an attempt to return things to normal. BUT IT WON'T HELP.

To A, this is about more than facebook. By dragging this out, her boyfriend has assisted her in perpetuating the belief that she is not enough for him. That, in the past year, she has not made enough of an impact on him for this other girl to pale into insignificance. His repetition of the phrase 'but I'm not with her anymore, I'm with you' has not had the desired comforting effect, but has actually convinced her that, given the chance, he would be with this girl again. Effectively, in two days, A has managed to convince herself that the whole relationship has been a pointless endeavour because she hasn't managed to match up to the standards that she perceives as having been set by the ex-girlfriend.

What HE wants is for her to stop being a Crazy Bitch and making a big deal out of nothing. What SHE wants is for him to understand that this is horribly important and that she's feeling insecure and unwanted.

Do you see? Two different fights.

Now, learning to deal with a Crazy Bitch is much easier than stopping your significant other from being one. Here is what I would suggest:

That cyclical conversation that we discussed? Avoid it at all costs. The reason you aren't deleting this person is not out of love for them, and probably not even out of loyalty, but more than likely out of a strong desire to remain out from 'under the thumb' for as long as possible. Tell her that. You'll still have an argument, but it will be an entirely different one.

DO NOT DISMISS HER FEELINGS. Nothing is more likely to make a Crazy Bitch dig her heels in than someone telling her that she's over-reacting. Feelings are always valid, whether you understand them or not.

My final recommendation - and this probably applies to most Crazy Bitch situations - is to TALK TO EACH OTHER.

Because, on a personal note, wouldn't it have been easier to hear all that from her instead of reading it here? And wouldn't it have saved us all about five hours?

Don't both come crying to me for free therapy, I've got stuff to do.