Enemigos: Swimfan

I need your help. Tact is not my strong suit. I need to you to tell me what to say to my friend that will get my point across without completely alienating her. Here’s the sitch:

“Michelle” started getting on my nerves. There’s nothing else I can say. She felt like we were friends enough that she could be herself and be goofy and silly and stupid. Well, the only problem with that is I can stand people that act like that ALL the time. It’s immature and it grates on my nerves. She was calling every single day. She was constantly wanting to hang out. The only problem was, she never had any money. Anytime we hung out, I had to pay. I knew Michelle had a crappy job, so I offered to pay. One time. Then, the bullshit started. She would “accidentally” forget her wallet or she wouldn’t have enough money to cover what she ordered. Me, being a good friend, would cover it. Then, it got to the point, where she wouldn’t even pull out her wallet or even *pretend* like she was pulling out her wallet to pay. She would suggest that we go eat or have drinks some place and then not have any money or, she would whip out her calculator and her checkbook and start adding up how much she had in her account right there at the table and then look at me with this hangdog expression to make me feel bad that she had no money and guilt me into paying.

She was dating this guy that was essentially using her for a booty call, but slapped a relationship tag on it to keep her pacified. She lived in a town about 20-30 miles away and she would come into town to see him and was killing time at my house until he was done with whatever he was doing and then she would trot off to his place that she wasn’t allowed in when he wasn’t there and wasn’t given a key to even though they had been dating forever. One night, she was sitting at my house waiting for him to call her so she could go meet him. I had a test the next day and didn’t want to put her out, but it kept getting later and later. She didn’t leave until almost one in the morning, and I overslept and missed my test. That was it for me. My G.P.A. is the most important thing and anything that compromises that is cut off. I kinda stopped answering my phone after that.

She met my friend, “Leslie” at my birthday party and monopolized her and got her phone number. Then, she basically took Leslie over. Full-on took her over. They were hanging out a lot, talking on the phone a lot, etc. It got to the point where it didn’t even feel like Leslie was my friend; she was *Michelle’s* friend. This was during one of my black periods where I was in a “fuck it” kind of mood and I basically said, “fuck it,” and let her have her. It didn’t help matters that Leslie repeated some things about my friendship with my best friend that only Michelle could have known. She also made some comments that let me know that my name and personal business were being discussed. That *really* pissed me off and I stopped responding to Leslie’s texts, phone calls, and invitations to show up at things because I knew Michelle would be there and I didn’t want to be around her and I didn’t trust either of them because it was fairly obvious they were talking about me. I cut Leslie off and that was wrong. I know, write it down for posterity; I actually admitted that I was wrong about something. I shouldn’t have done that to her. Eventually, she stopped trying.

Michelle moved out of state and, right around Yom Kippur, I started thinking about Leslie and I felt bad, so I sent her a text. Slowly, we started hanging out again. She didn’t really want to discuss the Michelle situation, and neither did I, but it needed to be addressed. We started talking and I told her how I felt and then she told me that Michelle was doing and saying things to cause a division between us. Leslie would want to invite me to things and Michelle would come up with reasons and excuses for why she didn’t want me there. Then, she made it seem as if I didn’t want to be friends with Leslie. Basic girl bullshit, in other words. Some of Leslie’s friends confirmed all the nonsense that Michelle was spreading. Then, to make matters worse, she kinda started bugging Leslie the way she was doing me. She would call all the time, be needy all the fricking time, pull the same money crap all the time, and would even show up at her house when she wasn’t there and be sitting outside waiting for her when she got home.

Leslie and I have worked through our issues and we’re closer than ever. The only issue is Michelle. Something needs to be done. Leslie wants no part of it. She told me that, since Michelle was my friend first, I should deal with the situation. I get her point in a way, because by introducing them, I brought drama into her life. I don’t know what to say that won’t sound messed up, though. Michelle and I have a *lot* of mutual friends, so I can’t eradicate her from my life the way I normally would someone that has caused this much drama. I want to tell her off, but I’d probably make her cry and, for the most part, she is a good friend. She’s just annoying in large doses and severely lacks good judgment and common sense in a *lot* of areas.

Tell me how to tell her to back the fuck off. Tell me how to tell her to quit being a stalker with my friend, to go make her own damned friends, and stay the hell away from mine. Tell me how to tell her that she needs to learn home training (i.e. it is not acceptable to eat food off people’s plates nor is it acceptable to pass gas *loudly* from either end of your body at the dinner table and then laugh about it and do it repeatedly). Tell me a nice way to tell her that, if you don’t have money, stay your broke ass at home like normal people do. Tell me how to tell her that her squatter’s rights on my personal space are being revoked and she needs to learn boundaries and stay in her place and out mine.

Help me. Please?

State of the Union: Distressed
Listening to: Glamorous by Fergie.

Edited: January 28th, 2010

Enemigos: Amigos y Rivales

Even if you don’t speaka da Spanish, I think you can use your phonics and figure out what the title of this entry means. I think the biggest “friend crime” that I’ve committed this year is letting people get in my ear spreading lies and believing them without confronting the other person. This happened earlier this year and I was dealing with Gianni’s illness and didn’t have the time, energy, or the inclination to deal with it. After all, when someone that purports to be one of your “best” friends comes to you with the information, hand on heart, would you really doubt them? Maybe you would, but I didn’t.

Fast forward eight months and there I was on the way to a soiree that my gay boyfriend, Paul, invited me to and the person that I’m supposed to be scrapping with is going to be there. Isn’t it kind of messed up that you’re in a fight with someone and you have *no* idea what the fight is about or when it started? Is that not the silliest, most junior high thing you’ve ever heard? The whole thing is so absurd that I am embarrassed to have my name attached to.

The situation is this: I have two friends, A & B. A & B were best friends. A introduced me to B and B was never anything but super nice to me. A & B got into a fight about A’s husband. A was having a birthday party thrown for her (and two other people) at B’s house, but B said that she didn’t want A’s husband there, so A threw her own party. B decided to still have the party for the other two people and kept the theme. When the evite for B’s party came to me, I declined and said,”Thank you, but no.” Polite, right? Well, B took it as a personal affront, deleted me from her friends on Facebook and My Space and stopped inviting me to Bunco. I thought her reaction was a little excessive for declining an invite, but whatevs.

B decides to call me so we can hash things out so there won’t be any weirdness at the party. She tells me that A told her that I was declining because I didn’t like how B was treating A and her husband and that, if B was going to continue with her hate-on for A and her husband, I didn’t want to be her friend anymore. Of course, I didn’t say any of this. I had decided to stay out of it because I liked all parties involved, it wasn’t my fight and, let’s face it, I’m a narcissist at times, it wasn’t about me so I kinda didn’t care all that much. I declined going to the party because it was on the same night as Gianni’s birthday and we had this big shindig planned and there was no way I would miss it.

B goes on to tell me other things that were done and said with my name attached to it by A and, the more she spoke, the more pissed off I became.
I wasn’t inclined to believe anything she said at first, but she made a convincing case. She knew too many things that I had told A in private. B made a case like I would: she had dates, times, locations, outfits worn, everything. I told her what the real deal was and both of us felt stupid for buying into everything that A said without asking the other if it was true. We had a blast at the party and I realized that she is very peaceful compared to some of the other people in our f-ed up circle of friends. We also decided to stay friends and keep our relationship completely separate from A.

The only problem I’m having is what the hell to do with A. Evil Me wants to confront her and flame her and kick her silly ass to the curb. Good Me is wavering between wanting to confront her or keeping things the way they are: I talk to her at social events and that’s about it. I don’t call or text or email or anything.

So, I ask you, Impartial Bloggy Peeps, what should I do?

State of the Union: Disturbed
Listening to: Live Your Life by T.I. featuring Rihanna

Edited: December 21st, 2008

Enemigos: Hateful

I am so angry right now that I want to cry. I genuinely want to believe that I am a good person. I want to believe that I have never intentionally hurt someone. I want to believe that I am a good person. I need to believe that I am a good person because I can’t afford to be bad. I want to get violent and put my fist through a wall and smash and smash and smash that way I won’t do it to someone because, at the rate I’m going, with as much rage as I have inside me at this very moment, I might maim and/or kill someone.

I don’t talk about it much, but I had a brother named Brandon that passed away five years ago. We were the same age, had the same birthday, but we had different mothers. Obviously, our father dipped from multiple wells. He and Gianni were best friends, inseparable, and before he died, he made Gianni promise to always look out for me. Amanda, Gianni’s ex girlfriend, used to have this monster crush on Brandon, but he wasn’t interested, so she latched onto Gianni. She turned out to be a whore and they broke up and it’s been history ever since, or so I thought.

Amanda went to the party of a friend of ours and found out that Gianni and I were out of town and that Gianni was in NYC hooking up with an Ecuadorian model. She apparently snuck up to Gianni’s room at the friend’s house and took his keys. Today, she went to my apartment, let herself in, took every single picture of my brothers that I had in my house, every single negative, and ran them through a fucking shredder before scattering the remains throughout my apartment.

This is what I walked into when I went home for lunch to meet the Fedex man. My hands are shaking so bad I can barely type. She took my life, my brother’s life, the only memories that I had left of him, and literally trashed it.

Edited: August 18th, 2008

Enemigos: Single White Female Part Deux

You ever ran across someone that just wanted to have your life? They liked the color of your paint, so they ran out and painted their walls the same color. Or they liked your dress, so they ran out and bought the same one in the same color. They frequent your favorite spots, adopt your sayings, and try to take over your friends. They ask you for your opinion on everything before they say anything one way or another. Then your opinion becomes their opinion, your views become their views. Ever meet someone like that?

How do you tell them, as politely, yet firmly as possible, to stop trolling your life? The person is obviously a little off their rocker, so you don’t want to piss them off too much, or else the entire situation will go from “Single White Female,” to “Fatal Attraction.” The person is a good person, for the most part, but seems to thrive on the drama in your life and, if there is no drama, will go out of there way to make some. They won’t make drama in their own life, just yours.

Do you think they have exterminators for people that are “personality challenged?”

Edited: July 22nd, 2008

Enemigos: Shady Lady

I have always made it my business to steer clear of business dealings with coworkers. Other than the chick I buy Avon from, my money and my coworkers never mingle. It’s bad business and, when the deal goes sour, it becomes fodder for the company gossip mill.

One of my coworkers bought a car from another coworker while I was working out of town. I had told Coworker A to hold off because something about it wasn’t right, but she was gung ho and excited about having her own transportation and went for it. After paying Coworker B $1000 as a down payment and setting up recurring payments out of her checking account, Coworker A let me read the contract. It looked fishy, like a contract for buying a home, but the deal was done, so what could I really say? I just told her that I had a bad feeling about it. This is going to sound really bad, but Coworker B is of the Watchtower variety, and something just didn’t feel right. I know it sounds discriminatory, but a Jehovah’s Witness had just bilked my friend’s nana out of $5,000 for a non-existent senior community on the lake, so I was leery. I know that doesn’t make it right, but it’s how I felt and I prayed I would be wrong.

Coworker B’s husband loses his job and the company car he was using and they are down to one vehicle. Coworker B starts asking Coworker A to pick her up lunch and asking if she can use the car to go run errands. Uh…no. A bill of sale means just that, you sold the car and all your rights to use it. Only, she didn’t really sell it.

Coworker B starts hassling coworker A to get the car back, but she won’t come out and ask for it outright. She makes hints and suggestions about her financing the car in Coworker A’s name. Hold it, though, it was supposed to already be in her name. Coworker B, as it turns out, never actually contacted the bank about financing the car in Coworker A’s name. The car has been in Coworker B’s husband’s name the whole time and, the form Coworker A signed was just the authorization for automatic payments. She was just paying their note for them every month. Coworker B then proceeds to forge the worst “official bank document” in the history of the free world basically stating that the automatic payments are stopped and that she has to pay more per month to keep the car. She then asks Coworker A to pay the monthly payments directly to her instead of the bank. WTF?!?!?!

I gave Coworker A a hard time for a minute there for giving her an opening to screw her over. She basically let her f–k her in the butt and didn’t even get the courtesy of getting some lube first. I told her (keep in mind I am one of the old school, Vengeance is Mine, Thus Saith the Lord, Old Testament Christians when it comes to religious people messing over people) to stick it to Coworker B and threaten to take her to court unless she gives her back the $1000 she gave them because what they did was fraud. The contract was never notarized. The money was never paid to the bank for the down payment, turns out they used the money to pay household bills. She forged a bank document, and this was the worst cut and paste job in history. There were messed up margins, no signature at the bottom of the letter and the worst cut out bank logo ever. She didn’t even have the sense to put a real number on the letter, but gave the 800 # her husband uses for his new “work from home venture.”

Needless to say, Coworker B, gave back the money when she realized that Coworker A was willing to go the distance and seek legal action. Everyone at work found out about it and Coworker B basically ruined her reputation and her testimony as an Upstanding Woman of Faith when it all came out. I felt bad, not for her, but for how she propelled the stereotype that Jehovah’s Witnesses are swindlers, thieves, and lying opportunists. She carried herself in a shady manner with her shady dealings and now, I look at her in a shady light. I look at her and I am disgusted because this woman was someone I looked up to. She was my one example of a Jehovah’s Witness that seemed normal. She didn’t beat you over the head with literature, she didn’t spew propaganda or tell us we weren’t going to get into Heaven because our beliefs on Jesus are not the same as hers. I used to think of her as a good moral compass and now she’s just one shady lady.

Edited: July 21st, 2008

Enemigos: Frailty, Thy Name is Amanda

I am not my brother’s girlfriend’s biggest fan. I think it’s safe to say that everyone know that. Every time I try to give that girl the benefit of the doubt, she does something to piss me off and remind me why I can’t stand her.

Case in point. Tonight was my friend Katya’s engagement party. She’s marrying into a fairly wealthy family in Houston. Her family comes from humble means so, there’s a money disparity issue going on. Everyone keeps inviting them to parties, throwing them parties and she’s expected to be decked out for them, but she doesn’t have a lot of dresses to wear to all these nighttime events. Seeing as I have enough clothes for four women, I gave her a lot of things from my closet, all of them with the tags still on them. I didn’t give her anything I had worn before because I know how catty women are and I didn’t want to subject her to that or to have her feel awkward or embarrassed at having to wear second hand clothes or feeling like she was some kind of charity case.

My boneheaded brother lets it slip to Amanda, which is liking taking out an ad in the National Enquirer. Amanda tells Katya that she should feel honored because I don’t let people wear my clothes (which I don’t) and that it’s so good of me to be in a “charitable frame of mind.” I could have slapped her. I really could have. My cousin stopped me, right before I did.

Katya got embarrassed and started crying. At her engagement party, which is supposed to be in celebration of the happiest day of her life. It took me twenty minutes to get her to stop crying and another fifteen to convince her that she was doing me a favor by taking the clothes off my hands. I think I mentioned something about making room to buy more clothes.

Katya drew Amanda’s ire because she’s still pissed because my nana wouldn’t make her sister’s wedding dress for her. My nana only makes clothes for people she likes. Nana is making Katya’s wedding dress. See where Bitch Fest is coming from? Amanda made a snarky comment earlier when she found out that I made Katya’s gown for the party. It was my first foray into evening wear and the first time I made something on my own without a sewing machine and my nana’s guidance. The only thing I would make for Amanda is a burlap sack to put over her head.

Amanda is a barracuda. She comes from a long line of barracudas and I hope that the earth opens up and swallows her whole. Lord help me if she comments on this blog. You will see me on the evening news nationwide. I’m not even joking.

Edited: July 21st, 2008

Enemigos: The Name Amanda Should Be Banned

In case you haven’t guessed it yet, Aman-duh is not my favorite person. She is my brother’s girlfriend, only to be tolerated because, as much as a loathe and despise her, I love him more, so I put up with it. I said I would never make her a blog entry, but, seeing as she is working my last nerve, I figured I would write about her.

I don’t like anyone named Amanda. I don’t. I used to think I was prejudiced about the name because Amanda Janish stole my pop rocks in the third grade. Then Amanda Stevens ate my twinkies in the fifth grade. Amanda James stole my boyfriend in the tenth grade. Amanda DeLucias stole my paper in freshman comp and tried to pass it off as hers.

See, long history of Amanda-loathing. The only Amanda I can honestly say that I like is Amanda from Melrose Place, and that’s probably because she’s not a real person. How sad it that?:rolleyes:

Quit scamming my blog, Amanda. You were never invited here. I didn’t even tell you about it so, nine chances out of ten, you were snooping where you shouldn’t have been and saw it. I don’t want to have to tell you again. I refuse to block visitors from my site because of you. You have been warned. Come here again, comment here again, and I will rain some serious wrath your way, Old Testament style.

Think I’m playing? Go for it. See what happens.

*****My apologies to all of you that have to endure this. Trolls are evil and need to be destroyed. Especially those that actually look like one….

Edited: July 21st, 2008

Enemigos: Smug-Married

I decided to have my friend over for brunch today and she brought another one of her friends and her daughter, Abby. Both women are married, so I have to endure talk about their husbands, gutters, garbage disposals and complaints about children.

Abby turns to me and asks me why I don’t have any toys or games in my house and I tell her it’s because I don’t have any kids. She asks me why I don’t have any kids and I tell her it’s because I’m not ready for them yet. This little girl, that is all of seven, turns to her mother and says, “Commitment issues.” I almost spit out my tea. Do they teach psycho-babble on the playgrounds now during recess?

Her mother quickly changes the subject and all is well for a while, but Abby starts in on me again over dessert. She asks me where my husband is. I tell her I’m not married and then she asks where my man is. “My what?” She looks at me and says, “Your man. M-A-N. You don’t have a husband, so I assume you have a man. You know, a boyfriend.” I tell her that I am between gents right now and she looks at me sagely over her tea and tells me that maybe I should hit the gym more and I might just get one.

Are there laws against strangling little twits that can’t mind their own business? I feel like I am in one of those Bridget Jones books and am being smug-married by a seven year old.

Well, I’m off to the gym now. Out of the mouthes of babes, and all……….

Edited: July 19th, 2008