Her

30/07/2006 – 01:01am

(RAMBLE ALERT: This blog entry rambles. More than usual, that is)

Another early morning blog with a delayed telecast. The effects of yet more champagne are still ebbing away from Robert’s birthday party. He held it at his girlfriend Kate’s place in Balgowlah, which is quite annoying (though not impossible) to get to (train, bus, walk). I bought him a copy of Jared Diamond’s ‘Guns, Germs & Steel’ but it turned out that it was such a great present that someone had already got it for him so he has requested Dante’s ‘Divine Comedy’. I think I might keep the book for myself (instead of exchanging it) and buy him the Dante.

I really should learn to eat when I drink, though in my defence there was hardly any food and what little there was just disappeared very quickly. I didn’t start drinking until halfway through the night anyway. Kate has a pool table so a bunch of us started taking turns to play. I actually started playing with Alycia, formerly known as “that woman” (who is NOT the ‘Her’ of the blog subject), and have found that I actually don’t mind her. I think I’ve relaxed my hypersensitivity about pretentiousness and she’s not all that pretentious any more.

*** WARNING: some bitching follows ***
(ends with more asterisks)

No, the ‘Her’ of the blog subject is Louise, who finally showed up (Robert: “I invited her but I didn’t think she’d turn up”) and, kudos to her, was brave enough to mention the letter that I sent her some weeks ago. Albeit during a pool game that I was winning and thereafter lost to Stuart. Basically she said that she thought the letter was harsh and that she thought I had treated her that way (meaning as a ‘default’).

“Give me an example,” I challenged. She couldn’t think of any, even though she had initiated the discussion. (I mean, if I were going initiate a discussion I would at least think through arguments and evidence to gain the upper hand straight off. As it was she’d caught me off guard by showing some rare courage). Then she lamely said that I’d “kept my friends exclusive”. Meaning that I would ‘exclusively’ go out with work friends or school friends or other friends and not invite her.

“What about my birthday party last year? I invited everyone then,” I countered. A beat. “Other times,” she returned. To paraphrase, I said that there were obviously going to be times when different groups would do their own thing and I wasn’t always in control of who got invited where. I mean, how often do you, my reader, invite your high school friends to work drinks on a Friday night?

Have I established that she’s being a tad irrational yet? As for the “harsh” comment, I thought that I did well in writing a letter that represented my opinion, making very clear that it was my opinion rather than accusing her of anything. I said things like “it may not have been your intention, but that’s what it felt like to me”. It was my side of the argument and she has full right of reply. If her right of reply was some lame arse “you kept your friends exclusive” – which was true, but only as far as most people’s social etiquette goes – then she has some major re-reading and re-thinking to do.

I wanted to call her a superficial hypocrite, an emotional abuser and a slut. That’s harsh. I didn’t go anywhere near that tack, precisely because I knew that if I did, we could never be seen in the same room together. (Did I ever mention the time when she got kicked out of home? I cancelled my weekend plans and told her she could stay at my place. She ended up having a one night stand with some guy while I was waiting up for her. I tried to call her to see how she was, where she was and when I should pick her up. Eventually I fell asleep in my clothes, by the phone, just in case she called so I could be ready to pick her up). I was restrained and diplomatic. Sireesha and Assumpta vetoed the letter before I sent it, just so I could be sure that I brought the issue down to my feelings and my interpretation of her behaviour rather than the potential rant it could have been.

Anyway, I want to know, if she felt that way before, why didn’t she ever mention it? The reason I wrote the letter was because I knew that if I didn’t, then she would never know and I would be as bad as her with the lack of communication. But god knows I gave her enough f*ckin’ time to make amends. The fact that she didn’t just indicates to me that she doesn’t care about me, she cares that it’s a negative issue and that it concerns her.

So Louise put a dampener on the party for me. I didn’t want to discuss what I believed was a private issue at Robert’s birthday party, plus I didn’t think that there was anything more to be said on my part. My letter, and the way it was written, is my defence and the last time I looked it was still watertight. Sorry Louise, this is not an argument anyone can win. You hurt me, but I’m over it now – now it’s up to you to come to terms with what you did. Your quarrel is not with me, but yourself.

* * * * * * * * *

A little after Louise turned up I started on the champagne (mine own) and polished off a third of the bottle (which is only 250ml), though I managed to offload some to a number of others because I knew I’d get tanked, having not eaten since breakfast and before that, since lunch the previous day (i.e. one square meal in 36 hours). You’d think I’d be too old to do this to myself, but it just goes to show I’m as stupid as the rest of them.

Watched a screening of Robert’s Shoot Out film from this year, which wasn’t that great, at least nowhere near as good or polished as last year’s effort (which didn’t get submitted because they were late). Played more pool, had some genius shots and won a couple of games. Paired up with Peter for the last game. He’s the filmmaker dude I met at Ross’ homecoming, the one that I thought liked me. Still not sure. I’m really bad at picking whether someone likes me. So atrocious, in fact, that if I think someone ‘likes’ me I might well bet against myself on the result. For example, I thought that Ben from work ‘liked’ me but, as you know, he has a girlfriend so I had to throw my ego out the window with that one. (On the flipside I occasionally get social brownouts that also turn out to be false alarms so it more or less balances out).

Speaking of Ross, he had half a joint and passed out so I had to pick him up off the floor and put him in a chair to sleep. He was so adorable! I really hope he can keep out of trouble until he ‘finds himself’. It’s been a really lame blog, I’m sorry.

Anyway, Stuart (drunk, partially stoned) and I (lightheadedly tipsy) walked to the bus stop together the really, really long way. Okay, we got lost and then got lucky. I wanted to talk to him about ‘boundaries’ but neither of us was in a suitable condition to treat the matter appropriately so I didn’t venture there. On Wednesday, then, when I finally get my bed. I felt bad that I hadn’t interacted much with Robert, even though he was flitting around to various groups as one does when it is one’s birthday party and one has a lot of friends.

I was sitting at Wynyard station around midnight when my phone rang – Assumpta! She was saying that she hadn’t eaten all day (it was mid-afternoon, UK time) because all she had in her fridge were condiments (which has never been a problem for her before…). Anyway, we shared chitchat. I told her about Paul and Ben and Louise and she told me about an Arabic evangelist and a tattooed chauffeur who’ve tried to pick her up and how she’s going to Germany for Oktoberfest. We talked for around half an hour, by which time I ended up at home (did I mention how much I LOVE living in Waverton?) and I felt better about the whole Louise thing. This is how real friends make you feel.

I’ve eaten a slice of cheese and a carrot and am currently halfway through a giant cup of chamomile tea. Then I’ll go to bed. Have no idea when I’ll get to post this – maybe as late as Monday morning at work. More Fiona Apple (‘When the Pawn…’). Bubbles.