That’s What Friends Aren’t For

Keep smilin’,

keep shining,

knowing you can always count on me…

For sure.

That’s what friends are foooooooooooorrrrrrrrr!

Image

Dionne Warwick, Gladys Knight, Elton John, Stevie Wonder, Burt Bacharach, AND Carol Bayer Sager all lied to me. I’m suing. *dials up Gloria Allred*

They aren’t.

As 2013 winds down, I’ve had a lot of time to reflect on things.

What went great. What didn’t.

Everything in between.

This year was a particularly difficult one, and through that difficulty, I was shown exactly what I meant to people. And I showed too much of what they meant to me.

Admittedly, I had a difficult time grasping, or rather, believing that I had the right to be upset and feel a particular way when I felt the way that I did. As in, my friends, when I absolutely needed them at my worst, did not want commit to their plea of “I’ll be there for anything you need. Just call me.”

I don’t ask for much in friendships, except for to be treated with the same love, care, commitment, faithfulness, truth, and dedication that I provide.

Maybe I’m spoiled because I have sisters.

Then, I thought maybe I was unable to handle the growing pains. And that is part of it, I admit. Being in a dead-end job while everyone else is (or appears to be) flourishing, friends getting married, being disrespected by their newly SO, being ditched for shiny, newer friends, or reacquainted relationships being tainted by manipulative third (turd?) parties. Aside from those vague, yet, autobiographical examples, the growing part that is difficult to come to terms with is the fact that people have a tendency to change for the worse before changing for the better. And when they are in that quagmire of negativity, no matter how much you want to try and keep them the same, it will be a challenge, and damn near impossible, to see that they will ever be who they once were. That is something that will never be altered in human nature.

Not to be a contrarian (Chrome is telling me that term isn’t real, but I know it is. I read books), but I do believe that a person has to weather some storms before they see the sunshine. However, if you keep driving into that storm, thinking that each one will be different, then you’re going to continue getting caught in an ever strengthening tidal wave-tsunami-monsoon hybrid disaster of epic proportions. (Yes, I know all of those things are impossible to happen simultaneously, but work with me here…).

I’d like to be out of the company of people who want to be friends with me when it is convenient for them. And that is mostly due to them attempting to absolve some guilt for screwing me over.

Come 2014, I’m not allowing this to happen anymore. I can’t break my neck, sacrifice my time, for people who cannot understand, or appreciate, the little things that make up a friendship.

A simple “hello” or “I just called to say I love you” (yes, I’m naming more 80’s songs) can make a person’s day, or break it if they can’t fulfill a basic aspect.

Please, do not misconstrue the aforementioned as me being insensitive, or rather, inconsiderate to my friends lives. I think about when other people have things going on — and understand that they aren’t always able to contact me in a timely fashion. And sometimes, they just don’t want to talk. That is absolutely fine. But at least let me know that you’re alive and well. I’d hope they’d do the same for me — because I genuinely do give a shit as to whether or not they’re walking the Earth and are happy. But I honestly believe that my existence is not of any significance to them. That is, not until they need me.

But do me a favor, if I ask you to hang out, and you claim to be broke, don’t be a Dick‘s Sporting Goods and post pictures on Facebook or Instagram two hours later dancing and drinking in a nightclub.

Also, don’t make plans with me and then dump me for a booty call with your boyfriend.

On my birthday.

At that point, do yourself a favor, and go screw yourself.

Happy 2014.

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The Only Thing That Helps Me Pass The Time Away, Is Knowing I’ll Be Back At Echo Beach Someday…

Hello.

Are you mad?

I hope not. I know, I’ve abandoned you (the one person that reads this blog — two if you count my other sister — and if there are more than who I think reads it — yes, that includes you, too — Yay. Welcome back. Feel free to leave comments).

The past two months have not been full of adventure or anything grandiose. So, there goes my excuse for my absence. It’s all been challenging, introspective, and just mighty frustrating. Thank God for gummi bears because these little fellas have been getting me through (I can’t afford booze. Well, the fancy kind that comes in a box with a spout).

I started a new job that has its own set of challenges that I thought I would have escaped (at least temporarily) from the ones that were emotionally and mentally plaguing at my previous job. Now, it’s just fresh dramz that I never expected.

It’s to the extent where two co-workers are not talking to each other because of an issue that deals with coupon hoarding.

Coupon.

Hoarding.

It’s like Team (insert name here) or Team (insert name here). And people are trying to mark territory on the new girl (that’s me).

I didn’t sign up for this. Well, I did — but you know what I mean.

Not to mention my commute is an hour (both ways) — so the extra money I am making is now being spent on fuel.

And then there’s the people. THE PEOPLE. The rude ass people that think I’m their personal assistant. A personal assistant who is not on any kind of monetary retainer that is associated with them.

Then there’s the Rain Prancer.

You read that correctly. Rain Prancer. He offered to do a rain dance for me…when it was raining. He is also blind, but manages to ride a bike and assault cars with his cane to those that aren’t “sharing the road” .

He looks at dirty pictures of himself on Facebook, but doesn’t know how to print.

Remember how I said he was blind?

Yeah.

This is my life.

On top of that, a very close family member passed away, and yes — that godforsaken trial in Sanford, Florida did take an emotional toll. So much so that I lost two people who I considered friends over it. Maybe more, but they haven’t said anything (to my face — as yet) that rings to the sentiment that every black person in this world gets what they deserve because of how they “are.”

Yup.

I was told that.

So while I was supposed to be writing my godfather’s eulogy, I was dealing with people telling me that I wasn’t worth shit, and I deserve the treatment and the discrimination that happens because of the fault of others.

That’s like me saying I am given the right to hate every white person in the world because of the racism that I’ve encountered. Oh, and because there are white people in the KKK. So that’s your fault and I hate you for it. But I don’t. Because I know not everyone white person in this world is racist.

However, all black people in America are thugs, rapists, murderers, and thieves.

Each and everyone one of us down to our core.

So, needless to say, I’ve not had the mood to blog. However, I am hoping that will change soon.

On my hour drive home today, I heard one of my favorite songs.

When I first heard it, though I was only in my early teens, I knew that I’d experience this feeling and this life for a time in my life. I just never thought it would be as long as it has been. And now, this is my life. I’m not sure how I feel about that.

From 9 to 5 I have to spend my time at work.

My job is very boring, I’m an office clerk.

The only thing that helps me pass the time away,

Is knowing I’ll be back at Echo Beach someday.

However, I have no Echo Beach. However, I’m expecting my Echo Beach to be more than a beach and a memory, which is a fruition, realization, an actualization of my goals. My dreams. Happiness.

If it feels like a permanent vacation, then I know I’m doing the right thing.

I hope that comes true.

*ha. Posted the wrong link earlier. Though I will be posting The Dead Milkmen at some point in the future.