--
A while back he said to me [slightly distressedly] "Why do your friends hate me so much?" and I replied "Oh, they don't hate you. They're just protective. Don't take it personally."
Back then I found it odd but I didn't ask why everyone was giving me advice. Take it slow. Don't get too attached. Don't get hurt. And I just kind of laughed it off. I'm fine. It's fine.
And now that I've had three solid weeks of people asking me if I'm okay [yes, I am] ..are you really okay? [yes. Geez.] I only just noticed that my friends have been collectively holding their breaths. They're worried. They are really really worried. They're worried that we're going to take another ride on the Mush nervous-breakdown-from-Hell-train [woo-the funnest ride of all]. Part of me is glad that I have a safety net in case I ever take another spill and part of me is appalled that I managed to cast these types of shadows over people's hearts. Uhm, you know who you are if you're reading this, I love you and I'm good. Stop worrying.
---
Hilariously, we still look the same and dress the same as we did ten years ago. I don't think that bench is even there anymore.Over ten years ago, I stood outside a classroom and made conversation with a girl who was trying to get sushi out of her braces and then I bullied a shy boy into conversation by talking his ear off [he didn't know what to make of me, he just kept looking at his notepad.]
Along the way, we picked up partners and friends [and more friends] and so it's literally been three or four years since the original musketeers went out together as a group of three. So I strongarmed Dylmah and MD into coming out with me on Saturday night.
And it what it is. It's like the dynamics between the three of us never change. We still argue and we have a laugh and through whatever- I get that sometimes we want to stab each other in the face on occasion-but it just feels right. And after making it to this point in our lives, we're kind of a marvel in ourselves. We're so different and if you think about it, we have almost nothing in common, other than a love of 80's themed music and movies.
But it endures and it survives.
For some reason I don't doubt that we'll all still be around for each other in another ten years and beyond.
---
Matty: Guys are really very stupid.
Mush: [starts to laugh] okay and..?
Matty: Guys are stupid and they get things like brainsnaps.
Mush: Brainsnap?
Matty: Yeah, a brainsnap. They don't know what they're doing and why they're doing it and they can't get past their own egos to see past it but they still do it anyway. And they do this a lot.
Mush: That actually explains everything.
---
I ran to the dinner table last night thinking that I was completely late and the table was half empty. Nonplussed I asked my mum "Who's sitting there?"
And she was "X, x, x and Mabel."
Mush: Mabel? Oh crap.
I don't know how much I'm allowed to talk about how I feel about her on this blog but I figure she'll never ever read this [God willing] and so I can vent my spleen.
Mabel is my cousin's wife's sister and I make it a point to be around her as little as possible, which is not hard since big big family dinners only happen about four times a year, but still wide berth.
Here's the thing about Mabel [and I'll be honest when I say I don't think I've exchanged more than two hellos with her]. She's my age and she always inadvertently makes me feel like a sperm whale by her sheer existence.
She's always elegant and poised and pretty and pretty much everything about her radiates that je nai sai quoi. Her hair is always perfect and her skin is always porcelain and she makes me want to hide under the table when I see her [or at least go off and eat in another restaurant.] And I get that none of it is her fault that she's always looks like that and that I have such an issue with it. But oh such a wide berth.
So she comes in, and she's bejewelled, in one of those ridiculously expensive bandage dresses and not a hair out of place. She's wearing a watch that I would probably break after two minutes. And someone asks her why she was late and what was she doing. And she says: Oh I was just cleaning my apartment.
This is when I think that she cannot possibly be a human being, she has to be a robot. No-one cleans their apartment and walks out looking like that. They just don't. Unless of course, cleaning your apartment means directing someone to clean it for you, but even then you still have to get out of the way of the dust right? Right? There was no dust on that dress.
[I did mention this to Mexicana and she interrupted me with: I never want to meet her either. I never want to meet her.]
Far be it from me to break from sisterhood and all that, I don't hate the girl I just don't want to be anywhere near her in a 5km radius. She does reallllly shit things to my self-esteem. Of course as she left the restaurant, she was wearing tights without any holes and five inch heels.
I'm not normally the jealous type [ok I'm never the jealous type] is that what it normally feels like? The green eyed wah-wahs totally suck. I'm going to totally make sure she's not there before I go to any other family dinners in the near future ..although chances are, she won't be there- because she'll be in New York for the next few months.Nope, not jealous. Not. at. all. *Headdesk
And it what it is. It's like the dynamics between the three of us never change. We still argue and we have a laugh and through whatever- I get that sometimes we want to stab each other in the face on occasion-but it just feels right. And after making it to this point in our lives, we're kind of a marvel in ourselves. We're so different and if you think about it, we have almost nothing in common, other than a love of 80's themed music and movies.
But it endures and it survives.
For some reason I don't doubt that we'll all still be around for each other in another ten years and beyond.
---
Matty: Guys are really very stupid.
Mush: [starts to laugh] okay and..?
Matty: Guys are stupid and they get things like brainsnaps.
Mush: Brainsnap?
Matty: Yeah, a brainsnap. They don't know what they're doing and why they're doing it and they can't get past their own egos to see past it but they still do it anyway. And they do this a lot.
Mush: That actually explains everything.
---
I ran to the dinner table last night thinking that I was completely late and the table was half empty. Nonplussed I asked my mum "Who's sitting there?"
And she was "X, x, x and Mabel."
Mush: Mabel? Oh crap.
I don't know how much I'm allowed to talk about how I feel about her on this blog but I figure she'll never ever read this [God willing] and so I can vent my spleen.
Mabel is my cousin's wife's sister and I make it a point to be around her as little as possible, which is not hard since big big family dinners only happen about four times a year, but still wide berth.
Here's the thing about Mabel [and I'll be honest when I say I don't think I've exchanged more than two hellos with her]. She's my age and she always inadvertently makes me feel like a sperm whale by her sheer existence.
She's always elegant and poised and pretty and pretty much everything about her radiates that je nai sai quoi. Her hair is always perfect and her skin is always porcelain and she makes me want to hide under the table when I see her [or at least go off and eat in another restaurant.] And I get that none of it is her fault that she's always looks like that and that I have such an issue with it. But oh such a wide berth.
So she comes in, and she's bejewelled, in one of those ridiculously expensive bandage dresses and not a hair out of place. She's wearing a watch that I would probably break after two minutes. And someone asks her why she was late and what was she doing. And she says: Oh I was just cleaning my apartment.
This is when I think that she cannot possibly be a human being, she has to be a robot. No-one cleans their apartment and walks out looking like that. They just don't. Unless of course, cleaning your apartment means directing someone to clean it for you, but even then you still have to get out of the way of the dust right? Right? There was no dust on that dress.
[I did mention this to Mexicana and she interrupted me with: I never want to meet her either. I never want to meet her.]
Far be it from me to break from sisterhood and all that, I don't hate the girl I just don't want to be anywhere near her in a 5km radius. She does reallllly shit things to my self-esteem. Of course as she left the restaurant, she was wearing tights without any holes and five inch heels.
I'm not normally the jealous type [ok I'm never the jealous type] is that what it normally feels like? The green eyed wah-wahs totally suck. I'm going to totally make sure she's not there before I go to any other family dinners in the near future ..although chances are, she won't be there- because she'll be in New York for the next few months.Nope, not jealous. Not. at. all. *Headdesk
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