Saturday, February 11, 2012

I've been gas-lit, bitches.

After much internal debate with myself, and external debate with Brad, I have had censorship forced upon me in reference to the content of this post. It's going to be vague. But I hope it still releases this shitty energy I have stuck inside me at this moment. (Upon proof-reading I actually got very specific. Oh well. I do feel better, though! hahahaha, suck it.)

It actually has to do with planning this high school reunion, which has been pretty fun so far, really. A lot more people are interested than I thought would be. I hope it turns out really well.

96 people have happily sent me their addresses for the reunion. And then there's this one person. Brad says if I blog about the situation, I've let them have power over my emotions, and they are ultimately nothing to me, so why should I care so much? I shouldn't care. I shouldn't be this angry. But I haven't done anything to provoke their attitude with me! It makes me want to spit nails!

I've been so careful and neutral like Switzerland. This person wanted me to call them to get their info. I read nothing into that besides just feeling generally annoyed. They can text me these messages, would it be so hard to text me their address? I'm like, ok, but I had to go to work and live my life and such. Most of the day goes by. Shandon calls and wants to help out in some way, and I say, yeah, you can call so-and-so and get their info for me. Thanks so much! He immediately does this, gets put to voicemail, but didn't recognize the name on the machine. He lets me know he thinks it's the wrong number.

So I ask so-and-so why they can't just text me the info, and I end with my favorite smiley :D Who in the world can hate the smiley-d? No one. It's adorable.

They respond that they suck at texting and that if I'm going to make this into "something crazy" to not worry about it.

What. The. Fuck. I sensed the bait. There it was. So delicious to look upon.

I retreated, hands in the air. Woah, sorry. We thought we had the wrong number. No big deal. Won't bother you. (I was very proud of this)

They continue. That is the right number, they say. "And I since sarcasm." Let's assume they meant sense. They indicate they are interested in coming to the reunion but also add "Don't make something a big deal that is not."

Of course, a bigger person wouldn't be angry at this. I guess it is believed "a crazy girl" would be though. Well, call me crazy, because I wanted to scream. What in the hell had I done to this person? Why are they labeling this as crazy? I don't get it?

I tried one more time. I went so far as to take partial blame for what is now a communication cluster-fuck. Something to the effect of, 'sorry, thought maybe you were dicking me around with the wrong number, if you want, you can call Shandon at this number and tell him your info.' I figured at that point, dude probably didn't want to talk to me. I sure as hell wasn't going to call him.

Mr. Last Word ends with "U made me feel like a stalker or something its to much, over me trying to work with ya. Some things I will never understand"

The situation reminds me of an article I read. Try this on for size:


Go read it, I'll wait.

You bitches get what I'm sayin'?

This person is not an ex, or even a friend I had screwed over in the past. Just a person. A damn unstable one. Takes one to know one, I guess! Sorry, I've already shelled out over $100 bucks for this damn thing, I ain't takin' your shit. They've been deleted. And I've fulfilled their prediction that I was going to make a big deal out of this. Which I kinda hate myself for. But now I feel better.


1 comment:

  1. In the words of my spiritual mentor and Himalyaya guru:

    "Fuck the bullshit."

    Obviously, you are dealing with someone who thinks that they are far more important than they actually are. I run into them a lot. Best thing to do it to give them the attention they deserve--that is none. Ignore them and move on. Sure, they'll text you two or three more times to "confirm you received their last message." But you can ignore those, too.

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