Brother – A Most Unreliable Narrator

Ladies and Gentlemen: My Brother

Dear Internet,
Because when it rains, it pours. Obviously.
My brother and I have had a tumultuous relationship stretching back to our teen years, but we’ve more or less made it work within the last few years with us living in the same city. When TheSoonToBeExHusband and I split, I started tapping those veins of people I’ve helped in the past financially to get some monetary relief as I was not bringing in a reliable income due to my writing sabbatical.
By this I mean, my brother.
I have a lot of open credit but after finally getting my credit in a really good place within the last few years AND not having currently having reliable income to pay it off every month, I was loathed to depend on credit to get me through the next six or so months.
So I asked him for a loan of $3K with a promise to return it back doubled when my divorce settled.
This was in late August.
He agreed to “whatever he could afford” and we were to meet up that weekend. Plans changed and near weekly, I’ve sent him a variation of the following text: “I’m leaving in X weeks. Please come by and pick up your generator and if you can, the money you can lend.”
For weeks he either ignored the text OR responded I needed to make shit right with our mother. I wish her the best of luck and wish her a long and happy life, but I have no intention of making up with her. This is why I grabbed a screenshot with the October 3 date in addition to today’s exchange, as proof of his lack of response.
In his late teens and early ’20s, he “borrowed” thousands from me to pay off his then credit card and medical debt (close to $15K). Later, I also loaned him money to help with the deposit of his house. In 2005/06 when he needed money AGAIN because I was so weary of lending to him without making a dent in the past debt, I have a letter signed by him that was witnessed by a third-party with his intent to pay all of it back with interest.
After a few half-hearted payments he stopped, despite years of promises he would pay it all back. I didn’t even want all of it back or even half, just SOMETHING to show good faith.
Shortly after that, he started the training on becoming an electrician.
He now makes nearly $100K a year. He has a near or slightly over 800 credit score (he brags about it, how I know these things).
He has recently purchased a 2014 or 15 truck, cost was about $55K. Last year he bought and paid off (or nearly paid off) a $10K boat.
He also spends thousands on the restoration of cars and other big ticket hobbies.
So I would have thought that me asking for $3K (or anything really), given my own earning power (I made $62K a year while at my old MPOW. I’m now applying for jobs in my new area like mad that are all in the same range) and my credit history is top notch and how much I’ve loaned HIM over the course of his life AND WITH INTENT TO PAY BACK DOUBLE — would have been some kind of, “Hey. Lisa isn’t going to fuck me out of this.”
I was apparently wrong. But I’m not surprised.
Below is the text conversation from today. His last pot shot to me (not in the below exchange) was, “so get on twitter and report to the masses how bad a person I am.”
You asked and I delivered, dear brother. Don’t say I don’t keep my promises.
(Click for the full image. It reads left to right, top to bottom.)

x0x0,
Lisa
P.S. After this exchange, I went through and unfriended his dormant FB account (he activates and deactivates depending if he’s looking to hook up with someone or not), people I’m related to by blood, and any of his and our mutual friends. Some of them were feeding him information because he knew things that were only published on FB when his account was dormant at the time.

This Day in Lisa-Universe: 2013

i can’t live at this speed

Dear Internet,
This past week was chocked full with unprecedented social behaviour.
Sunday, TheHusband and I had dinner with TheDrunk and her husband then headed out to see Skinny Lister at the Intersection.
Tuesday, I had lunch my last, while still employed, work lunch with Work Husband #3.
Thursday, library staff took me out to lunch on my very last day and that night, TheHusband and I saw Ben Harper and Charlie Musselwhite play at Meijer Gardens. After, we had a late dinner in which I tried to drink my weight in margaritas.
Friday, TheDrunk picked me to hang with her, her husband, and their friend Becky and Pete for unbelievably cheap happy hour at Gippers, where happy hour lasts eight hours. $2.50 for a pint of Perrin Black? Yes please.
Saturday, my brother texted Friday night to see if we wanted to go boating with him on Saturday. YES PLEASE. We spent six or seven hours drinking, sunning, and hopping in and out of Lake Michigan.
Our price for all of this normal, human social activity behaviour? TheHusband and I are too sunburned to touch the other. Despite multiple layers of broad spectrum 30 and 50 SPF throughout the day Saturday, the only thing not burned is our lips and the palm of our hands (and my belly). So instead of rubbing or hugging, we’ve been high-fiving each other all day long.
YOLO. (And why I’m never, ever leaving the house again.)
xoxo,
Lisa

This Day in Lisa-Universe: 2013, 1999

Precious or costly things

Dear Internet,
I often feel like a spectator to my own train wreck of a life.
After years in the making, my mother and I broke up on Sunday. I spent much of the afternoon and night writing about it, only to find that I could not wrap my brain, and apparently my fingers, around the whole episode. Thousands of words were written and thousands were tossed aside.¹ Instead of the world lifting from my shoulders, I felt the guilt that often hides in the shadows and was now dancing around my peripheral heart with glee. My heart itself felt like it was tightening so hard that I could not breathe.
The cumulation of our break-up, for me, was the realization she may have lied to me about something very big. After getting over the initial shock of, “Why in thee fuck have I not thought of this sooner?”, I felt my entire world crumble and I was instantly emotionally drained
Her potential lie has two consequences:

If what she told me was indeed a lie, then she not only poisoned me with her hatred against my father, but she ruined my relationship with him; whom I’ll never get a chance to make-up with since he’s been dead 12 years.
If what she told me was not a lie, then why did she never protect me, ever, from that danger?

What started down this road of holy fuckery was putting the connections together after her birthday lunch earlier in the day. She and I were buffered by TheHusband and my brother, ensuring that we barely spoke a word throughout the entire strained meal. After, I spent the better part of the afternoon obsessing over how thin our links had become to the other in the last year; with TheHusband wondering loudly, and quite rightly, why I had not broken the connection long ago. I steadfastly believed, until the very second I did not, I could not be that girl. I could not, no matter how horrid our relationship was, give up on her as a daughter. I did not want to be filled with regret after she was dead for missed chances and opportunities for maternal connection. I was barely on speaking terms with my father when he died and it has haunted me for over a decade on everything I may have potentially lost with him and I did not want to go through with that with her.
I’ve never known a time when she said anything even remotely kind about him. As I got older, I started piercing together some of the mistruths she had told in relation to him and of course to me, and rationalized it was all due to, at various times of her life, depression, being bi-polar, or general bitchiness about her divorce from him. But whatever reason she may have had for what she said, in this particular instance, could only come from pure evil and I could not rationale away what she did any other way.
When that connection was made, that I knew she had lied to me in the past and that this one event that shaped much of my teenage years and beyond could also potentially be a lie, the bond between us was finally broken.
Just so we’re clear, there was a long period of time in my ’20s when she and I did not speak. However, since the death of my father in 2000, I have tried desperately in vein to work things out with her. And in the years since then, anytime I’ve tried to tell her or even just to discuss my thoughts and feelings about our relationship (good or bad), it usually boils down to she either telling me if she hurt my feelings, she didn’t mean it and she’s sorry or that I’m insanely jealous of my brother (because it is always about him) or she claims she never said whatever it is I’m supposing telling her she said. There is no real discussion, catharsis, emotional break throughs or fuck, even understanding.
In the very near future, I will be removing myself from her legal documents and transferring that over to my brother. I will be canceling and/or removing her from any accounts or services she may use through me.
While I know I may be revisiting this again and again in the future to work out feelings, she no longer exists in my world.
TTFN,
Lisa

1. The baby was not quite thrown out with the bathwater just yet. I have been using, daily, Day One for all of my personal journaling needs. Since I have it on all my devices and machines, it syncs seamlessly with iTunes and Dropbox. The tossed aside content was added as Sunday’s journal entry and will probably remain there until I feel braver discussing it publicly.

And it slows, but for a dream

Dear Internet,
It is nearly midnight.
After my confession, and the cascade of tears that followed, I feel more at ease in my skin. Plans were made for a birthday dinner with my brother and husband, apparently a new family tradition, at The Chop House. Retail therapy cures everything, so before dinner I headed to the mall where I bought myself a new dress and shoes for the evening. The shoes, which while Instagram’d to death, are nude cork wedges. Totally un-Lisa like. But I’m tired of being Lisa-like, so the shoes were bought. While perusing the racks at Macy’s, I considered shoplifting as something also un Lisa-like, but decided that buying shoes that were not my style was more in speed with change. I didn’t fancy spending my 40th birthday night in jail.
Continue reading “And it slows, but for a dream”

Conversations About Mother (part i)

My brother and I are not on cordial enough speaking terms to the effect that we do not meet up, speak/text or are even Facebook BFFs. Our only connection is in regards to our mother, and even then contact is either brief moments filled with monosyllabic conversations or heated arguments that result in a lot of shameless threats thrown from both sides.
TheHusband, who finds my brother to be a gigantic asshole and refuses to allow him to step foot into our home until my brother apologizes for several unsavory things he’s said to me, did agree that any kind of “family” gathering should be done in a neutral location to keep the drama to low murmur. This is done to appease mother who continually harps and makes noises on “Why can’t you all just be civil to one another?” whenever my brother and I begin to bicker. Mother, however, seemingly and innocently forgets that much of my brother’s and I intolerance of each other has been started by her in some way and additionally while complaining about our sibling behavior, chooses to ignore the fact that she’s not spoken to half of her own brethren (she is the eldest of seven) in nearly five years for various infractions only known to her (and of which she can never explain when asked). Regardless of historical nods, my frustration levels skyrocket whenever a tentative olive branch is swung out to greet him, my brother will consistently denounce any kind of gathering, neutral or otherwise and effectively cock blocks any kind of civility I attempt to share when planning “family time,” regardless of how desperate my mother is to have it.
Therefore to save my sanity and have less dealings with my brother, family celebrations are now split in half for mother, who spends half her time with me and the remaining with my brother.
It is no surprise for this past Mother’s Day, I told mother that she should make plans with my brother first and then we would do our plans around those plans with my brother were made concrete. A day or two later, she tells me that she and my brother were having a mid-day meal at the retirement villa and that after, she’d like to come to our place to hang out while TheHusband and I gardened, followed by meal and game playing (Scrabble or Trivial Pursuit). Because it was her day, I also told her to pick the meal which to her meant giving me the breakdown of a four course (but very simple) meal, which TheHusband and I shopped and prepped for the day before. As mother no longer drives due to neuropathy in her feet caused by diabetes, additional timing is taken into consideration when scheduling events with her. I made it very clear to her that due to my work schedule the following day, it would need to be an early night and that since dinner would take about 1.5 to 2 hours from prep time to table, we would like to eat in the later afternoon with her tucked up back home at a fairly reasonable hour. She agreed.
With surface history of the dealings with my brother mentioned, I was not surprised upon receiving a call from my mother an hour before I was to pick her telling me that my brother could not make it to the mid-day meal (of course) and that instead, he was picking her up in the mid-afternoon to go to a party that was being held in his honor (his birthday was last week). With no thought to our feelings, plans, or prep for the meal she informs me that she’s going to this party. I asked her to call me if she was going to be arriving later then 5pm so we could plan accordingly. She in fact didn’t call until 6pm and was terribly surprised to find out that no, I was not picking her up and no, we were not having dinner as planned and in short, no, we’re not celebrating Mother’s Day with her. I made mention to dropping off some items of hers at her house the following day and hung up.
The following day, I kept to my promise and dropped some goods off at her apartment that I had ordered for mother from Amazon. Mother looked emotionally beaten and was clearly visibly upset. While I sat ramrod straight in a chair, pissed at how rude she behaved the day before, she proceeds to tell me with fat tears running down her cheeks that my brother spent the most of their time together the day before berating her for her behavior. Why was she not fast enough with her cane? Why is she so slow? Why is she not doing a million things at once like she used to do? My brother then apparently bragged that the people who were throwing him the party considered him as a second son (their own son died in a car accident in October 2010 and he and my brother were quite close) and that he wanted to be adopted by them. My brother is 32. On Mother’s Day, my brother used his time with her to talk about her failings, her missed actions and how horrible she was as a mother and did absolutely nothing else.
I struggled with two things that day: One how best to approach mother diplomatically in regards to her own fairly atrocious behavior and secondly, to not get caught up in the mother/brother drama that has pervaded me for nearly my entire life. I succeeded in the first but failed in the second.
This is a gloss over the day to day workings of my immediate family, which accounts for the partial disjointedness of the writing when attempting to explain in the shortest amount of time possible a second in a dysfunction that has been ongoing for decades. Much like that day when I sat ramrod straight in the chair, upset and angry for her behavior towards me, I could feel the undertow pull of her laying down the guilt no matter how much I fought against it. The unspoken listing of her wants and needs, rejecting the possibility that she’s ever done anything wrong is strong. How dare I criticize her when clearly my brother offended her the most with his behavior? Obviously, she should not want to live if we both think she’s the most horrible mother in the world!
I realised then I had two options: Instead of writing short stories where the mother is always violently killed, I would end up murdering my own OR I could start writing publicly about my family to get the tale out into the open. At the very least, it will keep me out of prison. At the very most, it will serve to help articulate years of feeling inadequacy for being born and save me thousands in future therapists bills.

Meijering at night.

Growing up, my mother installed a strange power relationship with food into our heads. I’ve never quite figured out where her ideas came from but essentially her idea was that less food in the house the better. Let me explain further: She would sometimes “forget” to go grocery shopping and or she would buy a few packages of hamburger, American cheese slices, saltines, and popcorn. For a family of four with eating habits for a family of six.
We’re large people and a bit on the tall side (I hover near 6′, Mumsy at 5’10” and brother at 7′. My now-ex step-father is about 6’1″.) While my mother is now borderline morbidly obese, my brother and I are just plain chubbeh. We could stand to lose a few pounds, but, we’re both fairly active (then and now) and are not sit at home stuffing our faces type people. We do, however, have large appetites.
It wasn’t that we were poor, Mumsy made a really good living as a home health care nurse (let’s just say, she neared six figures by the late ’90s in Michigan) and she certainly could afford to feed us, but, without fail, every week she would go grocery shopping and bring home the exact same items:
Continue reading “Meijering at night.”

Can Lisa ever be happy?

My brother and I were sitting on opposite couches last night discussing the fate of our lives. It seemed that for every few good steps we take forward, we get pushed back another five. When the topic turned to relationships, he started cracking walnuts and I felt like it was some kind of sign.
On my way home from Denver, I flew through MLPS. A young couple with a child were in the seats next to me, with me taking the aisle seat (preference for leg room). The overhead bulkhead was closed and I thought perhaps they had already filled it with stuff as I needed a place for my messenger bag. But when I popped it open to verify, it was empty. After placing my bag up in the bulk hold, I noticed the father (presumedly) struggling with bags at his feet. I asked if he’d like for me to place that stuff in the bulkhead for him. He was quite rude while declining, and I just shrugged as I sat down. During the trip, the child was quiet and when it started to whimper a bit, the mother started breast feeding him.
I was a bit taken aback by the whole experience, especially since they apparently felt uncomfortable around me. The father and I kept jostling to not touch each other during the 1.5 hour flight. I kept to myself, leaning towards to the aisle with my book and my legs on the far left side. Megan and I were lolly gagging around the luggage carousel when I noticed the mother staring at me. I have no idea why she was so intent in me, but apparently one good deed for the day was enough to warrant the evil eye.
My brother and I were watching About A Boy last night as we talked. Our conversation stilted while we watched what was happening on screen and then would rev up again. I felt like I’m living in a glass jar. Being watched and scrutinized by those around me. I’m falling between cracks I never thought possible.
My birthday is coming up and I’ll be turning 32. I’m feeling the pressure of not having consumed enough or done enough by my early 30s. I should have my masters by now! I should be married! I should have kids! I should be doing a hundred and one different things and not worrying about whether or not a group project is being completed or if my grades will be good enough. I feel like I can’t relate to anyone in my age bracket and especially to women who are all walking that normality line that I’ve swerved so damn far from.
Everyone keeps asking me how Denver went. My monosyllabic answer of “Good!” or “Great!” seems to not fulfills their demands. I’m not sure what to say because in the end, I still have no answers to my questions. So perhaps I’ll start with what I perceive to be the truth and take it from there.
If you were not aware, Patrick had (has) three jobs. He own(ed)s part of a local company in Denver and does contract work for two others. I knew that while this was to be *my* vacation, for him, it was to be a hellish week of work. He was/is currently in flux with the local company, with him quitting the company half-way through my trip. One of his bosses for the contract work showed up prior to my arrival and left the morning I arrived.
He kept Patrick on a tight leash, calling at all hours of the day and night to get things completed. Many “dates” we had were broken by us driving to downtown Denver to work on shit at the colo, many plans disintegrated because his work schedule. Coupled with both of us being sick as dogs, tensions were high. Verbal fisticuffing ran rampart. It was terrible.
Verbal fisticuffing is the term I use when Patrick starts pushing my buttons, making smartass comments that only ignite me to push HIS buttons and make comments. This gets nasty really quick. There were no holds barred accounts where I let both guns fly. This was not the sound of a “happy couple” at all, rather, of people who could barely tolerate each other. It was distressing.
I grew tired of this game quick, opting to keep my mouth shut when he started which only defused him, which was the point. I was beginning to feel like an object, not a person. I whittled away the hours while he worked suffering on the couch with the illness that would not go away. After he would get done with work, he would spend a few hours playing video games on his PC. He would occasionally check up on me and make sure I had things I needed and that I was still breathing, but I did not feel like I was being comforted enough. Like something was missing, and I never really knew what it was.
The sex was interesting. Taking into account the stress from work, being sick and other shit going on, I didn’t care about those things. I wanted the sex to be as hot and passionate as it was the last time we were together. It wasn’t. Perhaps I’m rare, but despite all the emotional bullshit he was going through, I wanted him to treat me like he did before and he didn’t. I was getting tired (and bored) of always initiating it. And it wasn’t that he was not affectionate or showed affection to me, he did, but when it came to the actual act, it was always ME who had to take charge. Always, always always. Then the issues came up. According to him, his exes were dead lays. No imagination, passion or interest other than things vanilla. Things had to be done a specific way at specific times, heaven forbid that anything deviate from that pattern. Me? I’m not like that. By a long shot. And I tried. Tried to make him feel loved, wanted and needed. I introduced new things, taking baby steps. Nothing seemed to work as sex always ended with me on top.
Always.

International diss Lisa day

Someone emailed me politely about my lack of lj-cut skills *koff* and I went through and cleaned up the last month or so of entries. They are all nice and neat behind lj-cut. When I told another person what i had done, they told me they were thinking of removing me because of my recent straying from using the lj-cut foo. In so far as the verbosity, well, if you can’t deal with all the posts, either remove me or create a Lisa filter. I’m not cutting down on number of posts per day because someone doesn’t like it.
I had forgotten that it was Danny’s birthday yesterday. He got on Yahoo! before I left to go tutor with the Literacy Council tonight and I asked him if he wanted to hang out tonight to celebrate his birthday.
He said “Well, South Park is on.”
“I get home at 6-6:30pm and South Park is not on until 10. You’re going ot be busy for four hours?”
“Well, I have shit to do and you have homework.”
“I’m on fall break.”
“Oh.”
If you are going to engage in conversation with me, and I have told you I’m trying to get out the door, do not sit there and play these ‘games’ with my time if you know I’m in a hurry. I asked him out and he was being wishy-washy. I told him I was going to be home between 6-6:30pm, to come over and we’d hang out and do whatever. He said fine.
It’s now going on 9pm, no Danny. Fuck it, I’m tired of his shit and I’m done even attempting to be friends with him.
To make matters worse, when I got to the library today to tutor, my student was not there. I had told her last week that I was going to try to switch our days to Tuesday but I called and told her that we were still on for Wednesday, same bat time, same bat channel. I told her to call my cell to confirm she got the vm. Never called. Checked my home phone last night and no message from her. I just assumed she would be at the library. She wasn’t. I ran all over the damn place looking for her and no phone call or nothing as to why she skipped.
Great.
Earlier today, I was on the phone with the family realtor. We had an appointment today, but I got up so damn late that I called her an hour before our appointment to tell her that we (my brother and I) were not going to show up. I had tried to call Jeff earlier to reschedule We ended up on the phone for hours talking about family and catching up etc. My brother called me at 10:50am (our appointment was for originally at 11am and we live a good 15 minutes from her, not including time to go pick up his ass). He called an additional three times looking for info.
He just called me about our next appointment and I went through what she wanted us to bring to the meeting. She’s like a family friend and she did well by my mom on her house purchase so I feel comfortable doing this. But then I remembered the little incident of what Jeff pulled at the restaurant Saturday with Miguel there and I got really fucking angry. We started screaming and hung up.
I’m not buying a house with my brother. I’m going to try to do this alone.
Fuck. Jeff. I don’t need my 24 year old brother ratting me out and telling my secrets to someone I had not seen for 10 years let alone sit there and tell me in the restaurant that I was being too harsh to his roommate and then turn around and do it to me. He then says — “Well, you do it all the time!” — OH WHEN? WE NEVER SEE EACH OTHER.
Conversations between my ex-Paul and me:
LisaIsAModgirl: www.modgirl.net/gallery/bigrig
angrypauly: interesting
LisaIsAModgirl: what?
LisaIsAModgirl: graham says he looks like you
angrypauly: bleh
LisaIsAModgirl: pauly
LisaIsAModgirl: i dated him when i was 17!~
angrypauly: mhm
LisaIsAModgirl: till i was 22!
LisaIsAModgirl: You and I have been split up for a year.
angrypauly: mhm
angrypauly: i can still be jealous
LisaIsAModgirl: mhm.
angrypauly: im always jealous of my exs
angrypauly: MINE
angrypauly: hehe
LisaIsAModgirl: :p
angrypauly: i dont share
angrypauly: <- failed kintergarden
LisaIsAModgirl: lol
MEN! ARE! PIGS!

la di da

If you haven’t already checked out this most def comic, I beg you to start reading!
http://www.queenofwands.net/
Thanks to kikikimi for the heads up 😉
Rocked my Modern Cinema mid-term 🙂 Did not do so hot on my astronomy “quiz” (what quiz has 116 points??). How the hell did I miss out on the “why is the earth heliocentric” — jesus. Helios — sun! Hello lisa! earth to lisa!
The irony here is that I thought I aced the astronomy “quiz” and did poorly on my MC quiz. Go figure. 🙂 Had another test in MC today about “Annie Hall” and “The Piano” (good thing I DID watch that movie 😉 and I think I rocked it hard core. I was witty and profound 🙂 The same prof teaching the class is going to teach one next semester on Romeo/Juliet, using movies. Like using the two major versions of the movie (including the one with Leonardo DiCaprio), plus West Side Story, plus “Shakespeare in Love” and a few others. It sounds like an awesome class. So, I’m going to most def sign up for it.
I’m trying to get to lj-comments but as you can see it’s after 3am and my plans to go to bed early were shot to shit. tonight as some things came up. I’m going to be gone all day tomorrow (and seeing Bowling for Soup tomorrow night). Thursday is all day classes and study session with Megan in French. Friday is classes, stopping by to see Pip and show him what I have in mind for the next tat, then home to do homework and laundry. Saturday/Sunday off to mom’s for the weekend. Plus I have insane amounts of homework due so I’ll be working on that in between breaks tomorrow. Ugh. But it feels good to be busy 🙂
So, I’m getting a bit freaked out now about how people are suddenly having this “you are mine” affect towards me. As I reported on Sunday, Danny came by and I invited him to come to the shop on Monday for the piercing, of which he came. But he was making all these remarks that were just — not appropriate. It was like he did NOT hear a damn thing I said to him in early august. It was like — nothing ever happened. I saw Pip raise his eyebrows when he saw Danny walk out behind me when we came out of the booth and then Danny dutifully departed. I dig Pip. I wouldn’t say a lot but I do think he’s hot and he’s interesting. I’m always up for meeting interesting people and I know last time I talked to him a few weeks ago he was in an on and off again relationship. I’m not saying that I’m going to try to rat-a-tat that ass (though we were making lewd comments to each other about it), but I am saying, what if there WAS a chance? I sure as shit don’t want Danny hanging around sniffing because I’ve been there and done that not only got a tshirt BUT a nipple ring to boot (he bought me my right nipple piercing). I’ve TRIED to make that relationship work and it’s not. We are far too different people. Time to move the fuck on!
Now there is my brother. This is just plan WEIRD, but I think it’s because we are so close. He’s been working weekends to make extra cash along with working normal week day PLUS going to class. Yes, we live only one mile apart and we call/text each other everyday but we haven’t had a chance to get together because I’m always out doing something and he’s at work in the afternoons so when do we hook up? Well the last two days he’s been calling and either I missed his calls but he’s getting — downright PISSY about me not calling him back. It’s. Been. Two. Days. Earlier this summer we didn’t talk for TWO MONTHS due to an argument we had. Tonight as we left Denny’s he gave me a hug (and crushed my right ear– the one with the conch piercing — holy shit did that sting) and he’s like “Call me!” — I’m started bitching about how he acts like it’s been YEARS since we’ve last seen each other. Weird.
Then there is a few guys I know who are sniffing around but it’s like, they get mad if I talk about someone local who I’m interested in or that I went on a date with tiglore last week. Hello. I’m single. I’ve BEEN single for what? nine months now. I make no claims on anyone and why should they make claims with me? Men, take note, if you LIKE a woman, will you PLEASE tell her and stop this childish bs. Lastly, the HouseGuestFromHell. Well! She emailed me this very passive aggressive email today and basically told me in no uncertain terms that the ONLY reason she’s moving back to GR is because of me. WHich I appreciate but.. well read my response:

I will not be used as the sole reason or one of the biggest reason for you to move to grand rapids. I told you from the git go that I plan on moving from here when I graduate from Aquinas in 05 to go to grad school. As much as I like the area, what I want to do is not offered here, period. Grand Rapids is a growing city and there is much to offer but for education, I’m totally limited by my choices to further my education. If you are basing me as being the biggest reason for coming here, than what are you going to do when I leave? While you are one of my oldest and dearest friends, I have started finally to build a social scene here with other people who I can relate to. This is not to disregard your feelings, rather, I am recalling when you came up in July and it was the weekend before my finals and you knew before hand that I was going to be busy and you made it clear to me that you were going to be able to have fun with others other than me, which I was happy for you to do. However, that turned out NOT to be the case and I felt guilty that I had to study and that took away from “you” time. I will not be put in that position because first and foremost, regardless of who I am friends with, my education comes first. I will not bend to the will of others because of this. Period. Yes, I take full responsibility for the pause on the “argument”, on the flip side however, I’ve sent you numerous emails to your home account to never even get an acknowledgement on them. Even though they were mainly tidbits of interest, not once did you acknowledge them. Even when I emailed you about Sarah’s new single, you didn’t even reply, which surprised me. Everything in quotes is from you. Anything quoted inside the quotes is something you quoted from me, to keep it simple on who said what.

“Ok.”it has everything to do with how you treat me.” I need you to elaborate if you can on that. I understand that you are saying that you have an issue with the way I am treating you.. but what way am I treating you.”

My biggest issue right here is how you seem to ask me for advice on anything and then you contradict me/get defensive when I tell you what I know. Let’s start with computers. You call/email/im me about a problem and I tell you what I think it is based on what you tell me. You find alternate information either from someone else or on the web that may contradict what I’m saying and you automatically take that person’s side. It’s fucking annoying and I’m sick of it. Like when the computer guy came to your house to fix your pc and you had me on IM on your other machine and you were relaying stuff back and forth. What the hell was the point of that? ANother instance is when you asked about that townhouse on 60th and Division and I told you that it was Clterville. I also told you that the area was white-trash central, loaded with modular homes, factories, low end trailer parks and the mental hospital was local. You got defensive and said that the advert said it was in Kentwood. You get defensive on everything I say when you ask me for advice on anything, I don’t even know why I bother anymore when you ask because almost all the time you automatically find fault with it.

“I have abandonment issues and this is how they manifest in nme.”

I can no longer believe to be this true with you anymore. You are now 30 and you use this every time you feel remotely threatened by anyone taking me or anything away from you. This has become your automatic response and you either need to get over it, see a shrink or do something because I no longer will take this an the answer as to why you are being cranky.

“Next.. I don’t know what you mean by that I act like martyr. I don’t really know what means and then how it applies to me.”

Your definition of a martyr was right, however, some people act like a martyr to be the center of attention. You do this occasionally. I’m proud of the things you’ve accomplished and how you have raised Marcus but anytime someone happens to you negatively, it’s always the other persons fault, mainly when you end a friendship with someone. It’s always tit-for-tat. If they cross you in anyway regardless sof how trivial it is (like not sending you a card for your birthday or whatever), that person is automatically on your shit list and that person is always at fault. This is how you are a martyr.

“You said that our definitions of friendship are different and that it pains you. I would like to understand how they differ.”

Your definition of friendship was right on and I agree with that, but see my answer above. You do tit-for-tat with your friends and that really REALLY bothers me. It has me walking on a tight rope and I feel like if I do live up to your standards, you’re going to diss me. Regardless for how long we have known each other. I dislike feeling that way. Also, you seem to always have to be /in/ control of the relationship as well. Yes, I know your automatic response is that you have “control” issues, fine, so do i but I at least cut people slack and you don’t do that with me or with anyone in your life that I see. If things don’t go your way, you get into a tizzy with it.

“Ostracized,huh? You feel banished and excluded? I am thinking that I can’t be thinking about this the right way… How in the fuck have I made you feel ostracized? I have come to see you 4 times this year alone. I talk to you all the time and email/im you almost everyday. What am I missing from the picture?”

This is not about you coming to see me, this is about when you and Jeff get together, you two think it’s great fun to make fun of me, from everything from who I sleep with, to my lifestyle choices or you two bring up shit from when we were kids that you seem to think is effing hilarious. Well, I’ve told him and I have told you in the past, I don’t find it funny. I was suicidal throughout highschool and had a fucking hard time coming to grips with myself until my middle twenties. I dislike being teased in a hurtful manner, and while you two may not think it’s “hurtful,” I do. Yah, some stuff is humorous but it just seems that when you are with Jeff or with Danny or whatever, that I am the one who always ALWAYS gets picked on. That’s how I feel oscertized. Also, when you get together with Danny (when he has been around) and/or with Jeff, you always take their side if I’m having an argument with one of them. I’m always made out to be an irrational/crazy/take your pick on how I feel about X subject. I’m tired of it. I’ve told Danny, I’ve told Jeff and now I’m telling you.

“You refusing to pay rent unless I kicked Boobie out of the apartment that you no longer lived in. It was my life and it was my life lesson that I had to learn, but you felt you needed to interject your “pressure” so that the situation would be solved in the way you wanted to solve it.”

I thought we agreed never to bring this up again?

“Lastly, I am so confused on the computer issues paragraph of your email. When did you give me computer advise that I did not take?”

Yes, this was partly in response to when the tech guy came over, but there has been many times when I have told you about XYZ (nothing coming to head here) and you take it with a grain of salt, like you think I’m right, but you’re not sure kind of thing. I don’t MIND helping people with computer help, really, I don’t. I spend a lot of time helping out Jeff and Jeremy, but with them they just accept what I say or they don’t. You are not like that, you are almost argumentative on everything. Not quite, but it feels that way.
From another email:

“I don’t know why you are making this seem like I am by myself on this because you do the same thing. You emailed Miguel and Alan.. and maybe others.. so why the inquisition on understanding why I am doing it?”

The difference s that you are almost too naive when you go looking for people, it is as if you are trying to recreate the past instead of moving forward. Oh, I will admit at times I’m guilty as anyone on doing this as well, but with you it’s almost like an obsession. I admit that yah, it was cool emailing alan and Miguel, but I didn’t expect to hear back from them. It’s like you don’t think about what you are doing when you do this. It’s like you totally expect them to remain the same as they were when you left them and people are dynamic beings, we are not static. You want everything to be what it was in 1987, and it can’t be like that. When you found Mike Knuckles again, that was cool and all, but I had no real desire on seeing him again. I wish him well etc ad nauseam and there are no hard feelings but I have no desire to see/interact with him again as we were never that close and you seemed really REALLY put out that I didn’t want to hang out with him. Same thing with Love, until I made it clear that I wished her no ill will, rather, I had no interest in seeing her. Like with Josh, and with that I was disappointed because I HAD been so close to him up until I moved from GR in 1997. But things change. Right now I’m going through a period of my life where I’m weeding out people who are not being positive for me and not allowing me to grow. Danny got the boot around the same time this argument started and Jeff had his talking to. I DO love you and I think of you as my sister but I really think that there has to be some major changes in our relationship, that while you can always depend on me being there for you and being there for you for the ups/downs, I’m not always going to be local to you. That I will have many other interests and friendships other than with you. That I will always be evolving, and if you can’t see or even contemplate any of this well.. then, I don’t know what else to tell you. Lastly, I dislike your passive aggressive behavior. One minute you are cool with the pause because of life intervening on the other hand, you are telling me that if I don’t respond in a “respectable time period” that you are cutting off our friendship. I understand you have every right to want closure to this and I agree with that, but your choice of wording put me off and I was even MORE hesitant on emailing you to finish this off. I’m not a puppet at your strings and this is EXACTLy what I mean when I say you have control issues you REALLY need to work on.
lisa

There is a new sherrif in town

If I had a gun right now, I’d be blowing the smoke away from the barrel but since I don’t have a gun, we’ll just pretend.
The one thing I recognized about myself when I moved on my own is that I have huge issues with standing up to people I like/love/whatever. People I don’t know I can talk smack all day long but this fucking catholic guilt (as in, left over from my youth, not a recent addition thanks), makes me feel terrible when I voice my opinion on something. My mouth is what made me so er, popular with UUnet and why most people were uh, cautious of my mouth. But I have big problems with sticking up for myself, especially in matters that I think it will count in.
With that being said, I took what greentara said about HGFH being passive aggressive and spent most of the day thinking about this subject. I came to a few conclusions.

I would rather be alone for the right reasons than friends (platonic or intimate) with someone for the wrong reasons. Case in point, HGFH, my brother and Danny.
I will no longer be someones whipping girl.
I will no longer back down when someone attempts to correct me and tell me i’m ‘wrong’ or ‘crazy’.

For the better part of my adult life, I realised that those who were close to me (sic) where the ones who often said I was wrong, crazy, or completely off base on everything from how I treat my dogs, to how I wear and what I wear to purchases. It didn’t matter what it was, but I was always wrong and my decisions on everything were always knocked down. I whipped my brother into shape and then I took Danny on and finally HGFH also got some coming to her too. She accused me in a few recent emails of “interrogating her” causing her “humiliation” and “embarrassment” but you know, that’s not how i see it at all. I see it as standing up for myself and if she still wants to me a ‘friend’ when the dust settles and the gun is back in my holster, we’ll see. But chances are, when she gets that email, she’s gonna be upset, and unlike before, I’m not afraid of what her reasons are going to be.