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Issue Date: Monday, Aug. 15, 2005

When I was looking to move back to Dallas and away from Nacogdoches [read: get the hell out of dodge] I put my resume together and sent it to anyone who would take it. I poured over the newspaper listings and called on old contacts.

I started calling on temp agencies when everything else failed to bear fruit, and they started setting up appointments for me. I asked them to line them up like dominoes so I could drive in from Nacogdoches and knock out the interviews one at a time. I usually had three and four in a day.

The three and a half hour drive was no big deal for me but in the summer sun wearing a cheap black suit, you could tell I was desperate.

A general construction company was looking for an executive secretary for their big boss. They loved me, offered me the job, I counter offered, we negotiated. I won, I left my husband (there is a longer story here… not gonna get into it) and moved (yee haw.) and started the job that Thursday.

The job entailed ass loads of filing (the bane of my existence) and for me to learn the Construction Specification Institute’s (CSI) Division List (link found here) (Dear. God.), for me to take care of Joe’s secretarial duties, make him look good (wasn’t hard… guy’s a genius), to take care of his two brilliant kids on the nights that he was taking his equally brilliant wife to the Stars game… and plan his golf outings with his buddies and get them nice shirts made.

Loved the job, hated the comptroller. But during the interim there I met a girl who worked for one of the contractors for Joe. We’ll call her K. K was young and exuberant. She bounded into the office and immediately demanded that I come out with her and her husband that weekend. Well, that’s not true. It took her a couple of weeks and a few phone calls back and forth for us to decide we liked each other.

Ya see, we were supposed to hate one another.

Joe and her father we locked in a pissing contest over this multimillion dollar job they were working on. And therefore, I was the enemy… because I worked for Joe. And she worked for her dad. Whatever.

She demanded that I come out with her and her husband, I went. And…..a good time was had by all.

Months went by, years went by. K was always there. Always demanding that I come do this, or do that. But she was always there to lend an ear as well. And as you, dear reader, know, I was one angry broad. I had a lot of anger. I was angry at myself… I was angry at X, oh how I was ANGRY… I was angry at Marcus, that little shit… (if you need a link for any of this crap let me know)… I was angry at Neal...I was just angry. But she was angrier. And more negative, and had more drama. It always seemed to be about her. If I was upset I could talk and then she could talk and it would always turn into this thought in my head of, “Well, yeah, K is more fucked up than I am… she needs the time and the spotlight right now, I’ll talk later.” Or whatever.

She took up all of the space in the room. She was negative and charismatic at the same time. How is that possible? I wanted to hang out with her but then I dreaded it.

She was always taking on projects. She had so much love (or control) to give that she would take on injured puppies, stray cats, men… she even took on a foster child… nay, a foster infant that needed an oxygen tube to breathe. She wanted to help or change or fix everyone and everything. (And yes, naysayers, I do feel perfectly comfortable throwing around those blanket statements.)

Her need to change things sometimes veered into the negative. And the negative would be verbalized with a quick jab and then laughed off as if she were delivering a punch line or stony as if she were reading a street sign. Her verbal opinions and objections were never offered with love and respect. Never with an “I feel…” opener.

And one afternoon I had had enough.

I was wearing a red dress. It was a red shift with a cute little jacket that my mother had purchased for me because she was thinking about me. I had spent ten years being separated from my parents with them being in Colorado and me being in redneck country Nacogdoches and my mommy bought me a cute dress. I was proud of it. And K walked in to go to deliver a check to me (This was three and a half to four years and two jobs after we had met, and I was moonlighting for her father organizing his office.) and said, “You really shouldn’t wear that dress… it looks like something your mother would wear.”


It really isn’t so much what she said, although it was rude; it is more of the tone and the venom that she spat at me. She actually sneered.

I told her that I liked the dress and I thought it was pretty and that my mother would wear something like this thankyouverymuch. Later that day or that night she demanded that I come over or something and when I said a flat “no.” that led to a discussion about how I thought she should ask and not tell and that I thought she was very rude. She said that she was just honest about her feelings and I said that she hides behind the word HONESTY to be cruel to people. She said, “Well, this is just who I AM. Take it or leave it!” And I said, “I believe I will take the second option and leave it.”

And our friendship was over.

I was in the process of working on my nonexistent boundaries at the time. I was going through therapy and I needed to have healthy relationships and she was just an emotional vampire to my doormat. The relationship was not mutually beneficial and I burned the bridge rather than rebuild it.

Back in January of this year I received an email from K. It was very short and all it said was this…

I was at work the other day and a lady sat down in my chair who could have been your twin. She reminded me of how much I missed our friendship. I hope it's not too late to tell you how sorry I am for being so critical. You never deserved it.

It took me a while… a while a chewing on my own face with indecision. I don’t have to tell you guys that I am one big bucket of crazy, but I did not know if I wanted to step my foot back into that ring. All I could think if was that hurt and confusion and sorrow that was caused when she was in my life. I knew that there were good times, I knew that there were laughs and nights of pizza parties and trips to Hot Springs, AR and pictures of us vogue-ing with wax lips and pool parties… but was I ready to even see where this would lead?

I knew that K had had a little girl, a beautiful little girl and that maybe she had softened around the edges.

I knew that she was no longer working for her daddy, a BIG source of her crazy. That she had gone through cosmetology school so maybe she was getting that need of hers to change to help to fix met in that field, and getting paid for it.

I didn’t know if I could step out of the relationship again if I wanted to. But then I remembered.

I am not the same scared young girl afraid and angry and torn up inside, in need of love and acceptance in any form. I can stand on my own two feet and I can do this if I want to. [little stomp of a tiny foot]

Just to be sure, I talked to my darling acorn, Anne. She said, “Hell, why not? If she turns out to be crazy as a shit house bat, you don’t have to hang out with her. Just tell her, I’m sorry, this was a mistake, and haul ass.” I’m paraphrasing… of course, Anne was definitely much more eloquent. She may have even used thee’s and thou’s.



Over the last couple of weeks, K and I have been emailing back and forth. And last night she called me and we talked on the phone for an hour. It turns out that she did enter therapy and that she seems to be a lot softer now. She is calmer, not as manic or hysterical.

I hope that when we get together for lunch or dinner in the near future that it goes well.

Wish me luck!


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To understand this dear reward (above) at all, you must hie thee on and read gatsby’s grape ape entry and my comments.

And because of said comments he sent me my very own dream turtle in an email titled wee gift with these words attached, “my purple monkey is booked solid so i ordered you a tangerine turtle. hope he proves helpful.”

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