BITCHES

Julie’s wedding day is over a year away. It’s going to be a long, long, long 15 months.

Allow me to introduce myself a little, here. So far I’ve told you about my friends. I’ve offered you an unprecedented view into my life and my friends’ lives. I’ve attempted to de-construct their personalities and their tendencies. Yet, the only thing you really know about me so far is that I’m chock full of opinions.

Back in the day I verbalized my opinions left and right. I didn’t give a shit whose toes I stepped on. It’s cost me some friendships, and I had a little growing up to do. I’ve learned how to pick and choose my spoken opinions around certain individuals, but just because I’ve learned how to take use of my filter, that doesn’t mean the opinions have stopped forming.

While there are plenty of things I love in the world (the scent of lilac, fresh cut flowers, dancing to ABBA... you know, the simple pleasures), there are also plenty of things that I really have a low tolerance for. For instance... I can’t stand it when a child is throwing a fit in the check out lane at any store. I don’t care if it’s a grocery store, a toy store or the local Wal-Mart... if you’re going to bring your kids out in public keep them in line. My mother had a way of gritting her teeth and threatening to spank me right there in the store if I acted up. And you know what? I believed her. She never did it, but I never tested the theory. In fact, I can only remember being spanked once or twice in my life. But, that’s all it took.

That’s just one thing I have a low boiling point with. I could easily have a bitchfest on a whole range of topics, and I figured out more items to add to the bitch list: wedding plans, wedding planners, future brides and women who’ve recently been a bride.

If you’re one on one with a BITCH (Bride In The Conversation Hemisphere), it’s not so bad. She’ll offer small updates about her planning thus far, but really only if you ask (unless she’s too close to the date... then it’s no holds barred). She might fill you in on a color scheme or a church location. She might vent about loopholes she has to find or plans that fell through or the nasty vendor she had to deal with, but she generally keeps to topics that you can somewhat keep some interest in. Any more than just one, though, and it turns into wedding planning mania.

I sometimes feel like I’m the only person I know who’s not planning a wedding. Like I’ve previously mentioned, I’m not in a hurry to walk down the aisle. I don’t mind waiting for the right guy. I’m not financially ready for anything like that either, so even if I did find Mister Right, it would be a long time before I married him. Because I’m not at the point in my life yet, I really don’t share the interest of these conversations with my friends when they start talking about preparations.

Laura and Julie are getting married a month apart from one another next year. Naturally they’re both at similar steps in the wedding planning process. When they’re in the same room, the conversation will inevitably turn down Wedding Road. I’ll pay attention at the beginning, and I might even ask a few questions. And I will admit, sometimes I get swept up into the conversation and I start thinking about what I’d do differently or what I’d do similarly. But after 20 or thirty minutes I go into la la land. If we’re at the bar, it’s at this point that I find somebody else to talk to or I go outside to smoke.

Julie by herself will be guaranteed to talk about it. Laura by herself will only talk about it if asked... she’s more low key. Jennifer will only talk about weddings if she’s around Julie or Laura. She did have one completely planned, after all. Just because she didn’t walk down the aisle doesn’t mean she doesn’t have a story or two about planning the big event. Since I have no stories to add, I end up staying silent and getting drunk faster because my drink turns into the only thing I’m really interested in.

I’m not in either one of my friends’ weddings. I don’t mind, really. I couldn’t afford to take on the commitment, anyway. Laura has informed me that I will be handing out programs and taking care of her Unity Candle. That’s cool with me... as long as I don’t have to cut the cake. I won’t do that job. I think that job should be saved for the cousin or aunt you really don’t like. In my family, I think it would be my Grandmother... or my Aunt Beth. I’m glad to help, really.

I realize it’s natural to talk about something so important to you, and that’s why I don’t stop them. I understand why they talk about it all the time, really, I do. I’m happy for my friends and I think they should have the best day possible. But I have a fear.

Their weddings are so far down the road, that I know this is only the beginning. I fear as the date draws closer my friends will turn into Bridezillas. Laura’s laid back enough that she’ll probably be okay, but Julie will allow the stress to get to her. She does, after all, strive for perfection.

I’m just not looking forward to mundane details. I don’t want to be a bitch, but sometimes I just don’t care... at all. On the other hand I don’t want to alienate my friends, so I’ll smile and nod or find somebody else to talk to when they get to clucking about dress material, caterers and flowers.

To Laura, the only friend who might read this... Sorry honey, and no offense. But please don’t become a Bridezilla on me... I’m afraid I might bitch slap you. And if I bitch slap you, who’s going to stop me from bitch slapping Julie?

The Dinner Party

At the beginning of June, the nameless roommate and I decided to throw a dinner party. The day before this event, her fiance of seven years dumped her for good. He'd been pushing her away for a while, but that day he drove the final nail into the coffin that was their relationship.

We only invited four people to this dinner party, and, truth be told, our apartment couldn't comfortably fit much more than that. The four guests included Julie and her Mitch, and Laura and her fiance Nathan.

Knowing that my roommate was dealing with the issues of her ex, I knew it'd be hard for her to be around two happy couples. Hell, I've been single for years and it's hard for me to be around couples at times... happy or unhappy.

Don't get me wrong... I'm happy for my friends, but sometimes when I hang out with their significant others I want to shoot myself. I don't mind being single, but I do mind my life long friends introducing me to people who make my skin crawl.

Mind you, I'm not talking about Nathan. I like Nathan. He makes Laura happy, and he's a great guy. They were the first couple to arrive that night. When they knocked on the door I stashed my weed and tried to pretend I wasn't high (the weed was a precautionary measure -- trust me... it's best that I was high for this event).

Laura and Nathan are dog people, and within seconds Nathan was rolling around on the floor with our two huge mutts, Drake and Lizzy. It wasn't long after that when Julie and Mitch came walking in.

Upon initial sight of Mitch I have to stop myself from vomiting (usually). He's not (THAT) ugly on the outside, mind you, but his personality makes me prefer the sound of nails on a chalkboard to his company.

His inaugural request was some fru-fru drink, while I grabbed a beer for myself and Laura. As soon as Mitch was settled with his cocktail (seriously.. I think I saw a maraschino cherry in this "straight" man's glass) he started taking up all the air in the room by insisting that he be the loudest and most frequent speaker.

Much eye rolling ensued from Laura towards my general direction... which Mitch either didn't notice or ignored completely.

So, we decide to start cooking and drinking while Mitch continuef to talk about the house that he and Julie (mainly Julie) just bought and how excited he is to finally own a home (eye roll). He spoke at great length about the wonderful job he has at the newspaper (he's a sport's editor for a VERY small town paper... you know the once weekly circulation types -- eye roll). And after he regaled us on the adventures of tee-ball (eye roll), he started making jokes. Allow me to correct myself... he didn't make jokes... he openly offended people and laughed while thinking everybody thought he was joking (eye roll/glares of discontent). I guess he didn't notice that he was the only one laughing.

His comments were attempted to be ignored by myself, but he persisted on trying to push my buttons. He said I wasn't allowed over at their new house... they have standards after all (solo laugh inserted by Mitch). He made a comment about how I've been single the entire time he's known me (solo laugh inserted by Mitch). He pointed out how my problem with men is I'm too outspoken, and perhaps I should think about toning down a bit in order to meet Mr. Right (insert yet another annoying, high pitched, deep throat chuckle by the asshole named Mitch... also insert glares from Laura in my general direction). By the time the burgers were ready to eat, even Julie seemed annoyed by Mitch.

In the middle of dinner the nameless roommate and I had to search for candles because the power went out. Most of the guests were patient as we tried to remember where we'd put them. One guest, however, became impatient with not being able to find the pepper shaker on the table, due to the lack of light, and persisted to search until he knocked my drink off the table. Way to go, Mitch.

After dinner, we saved the dishes for later and reconvened in the living room where we'd planned on playing a board game that involved the DVD player. Since the power was out, we had to come up with a plan B to keep our guests entertained. We used the trivia cards from the game to play an impromptu question and answer session. Mitch, however, had a few suggestions about this.

Instead of randomly answering questions, why don't we keep score and each person gets questions asked to them?

Okay, Mitch, we can do that. You are, after all, the guest, and we appreciate your input (eye roll). Let's keep score, shall we?

That worked until Laura (not very book smart) started missing all of her questions. Laura didn't care either way, but Mitch wanted to steal her questions and rake in the points.

Okay, Mitch, we now have a method for stealing questions (heavy sigh of annoyance because you basically just called my good friend, Laura, a dumbass).

After we started to get into the game, Mitch insisted on having an update of the score every three minutes or so (eye roll). When the nameless roommate forgot to add a point to his tally, he got upset (seriously). He claimed the game was stupid (you're the one who wanted to make it into a pissing contest) and wished the power would come back on so we could really play.

As if on cue, the power came back on. Seriously... I can't make this shit up.

Mitch was very pleased with himself, as if the power coming back on were the product of his temper tantrum and not mere coincidence. So, as he wished, we popped in the DVD and continued to play the real game.

Damn... I was just about to whoop Mitch's ass at impromptu trivia, too (you should have seen his face when I stole one of his questions).

As you can probably guess by his behavior during the made up "stupid" game, Mitch isn't exactly a good sport. When we split up into teams, Laura and Nathan started excelling (they really are the power couple). The more Laura and Nathan won, the more Mitch pouted and became the dictator of the game. He claimed they were cheating (insert solo laugh by Mitch and a general look of wierd from me to nameless roommate, Laura and Nathan). He seized the DVD remote control from my hands when I wasn't clicking on options fast enough for him. He even insisted on timing people for their answers (collective sigh of annoyance).

Needless to say, after one game the party was over.

Julie headed to the kitchen to prepare her dish for the ride home, and Mitch followed her in there.

The nameless roommate noticed, from the living room, that Mitch was cleaning off the table from the dinner dishes. She told him not to worry about the mess, we would get it after they left. When he continued to clean, she politely asked him, "Mitch, why are you cleaning our kitchen?"

Mitch stepped into the doorway so I would be in his line of vision and he looked at me. Then he looked at the nameless roommate and said, "Because nobody else is."

The bitch in me wanted to punch him. I'd put up with his shit all night long, smiled and played the good hostess. The only reason he hadn't had an earful yet was because Julie is a good friend of mine, and I didn't want to disrespect her. It was obvious, though, that she had no intention of stepping in and stopping her man from being a rude asshole in somebody else's home.

The good hostess in me, however, prevailed and I simply said, "Don't clean our kitchen, I'll get it when you guys are gone," and smiled as he threw away an empty beer can. I sighed relief by the time he and Julie were gone... and I went to look for my pot.

The next day I called Julie and informed her that Mitch is no longer welcome in my home until he grows the fuck up. She was shocked, of course, because she's blind to his stupidness (even though her body language at the dinner party said otherwise).

But you know what? I haven't seen Mitch since that night. Put another tally on my scorecard, please. I worked hard to earn that prize.

By the way... Felix has dibs on being my date for their wedding... he can't wait to see this spectacle.