Girls gone bitchy

I have a friend. Let’s call her “Becky.”

Becky and I have been friends since kindergarten. We are complete opposites in every way (she’s loud, I’m soft-spoken; she’s free-spirited, I’m more focused; she’d prefer to live la vida loca, I prefer to have balance; etc.), but somehow we’ve remained friends for the last 20 years. We’re the type that can go months without speaking and then pick up right where we left off, as if nothing ever happened.

Our friendship, like every friendship, has not been without its ups and downs. For instance, when we were in junior high, she started copying me. My clothing style, my taste in music, you name it. And when I called her out on it, she tried to act like I was being unreasonable and bitchy. That was probably one of our worst falling outs. But we got through it and moved on.

Another time my friendship with Becky was tested was when I made the cheerleading squad in seventh grade. SEVENTH GRADE. It’s not like I was cheering for the Dallas Cowboys. Becky didn’t even TRY OUT for the squad, nor did she have ANY DESIRE to be a cheerleader, but somehow my good fortune just caused her to seethe with rage. When the results were given, it was announced that there was a tie (of course the judges didn’t reveal who the tie was between, that would be unethical), so the squad would include ten members instead of the usual eight (which would indicate a three-way tie, but who’s counting?). A few days after the results, I was in the car with Becky and her mother. We were talking about the tryouts, and Becky’s mom said, “I’m so glad you made it, [LRC]!”

Then Becky said, “Well, it’s only because she TIED with [other cheerleader's name].”

Um, excuse me?

First of all, there is no way she would have that information. She just assumed that I was one of the ones at the bottom of the totem pole that they just HAD to include because it would be UNFAIR, or something. Whatever. If they didn’t want ten cheerleaders, they wouldn’t have kept ten cheerleaders.

And Becky’s mom didn’t even say anything.

So you can see a bit of a theme developing here. I’ll give you a hint. It’s green and rhymes with hellisy.

Jealousy.

Now, I’m not the type of person who thinks she’s this Ultra Mega Awesome Chick whom everyone else should envy. No. I’m not saying that at all. But the pattern of all my arguments with Becky usually seemed to carry that underlying theme.

And it’s unfortunate.

Becky is well-liked. She’s creative, funny, and beautiful. But for some reason, she’s always wanting more. She must be the center of attention. If ANYONE else gets ANY attention at all, well then she is just not having that.

As a result of that addictive personality, Becky is in outpatient rehab for cocaine.

She ran up thousands of dollars in credit card debt on her mom’s card, and hid the bills when they came. When her mom finally found out what was going on, Becky said she was withdrawing money and “giving it to homeless people on the street because they needed it more than [she] did.”

Um.

Yeah . . .

So that was that. She moved upstate to live with her dad a few months ago. She cut her hair off, dyed it dark brown, and got her nose pierced. I guess she feels like she’s starting over.

I told you all of that to tell you this. I saw Becky a month ago at a bar in our hometown. She was visiting for Thanksgiving. I was with New York.

Becky: Is that your friend [NY]?
Me: (smiling) Yeah . . .
Becky: I wish he’d get a haircut!

I was stunned. I couldn’t believe her audacity. If I were meeting a significant other of hers for the first time, there is no way in hell I would insult him. There have been many boyfriends of hers that I COULD have said something negative about based on my first impression, but I can’t even IMAGINE telling her those things! Hell, I have a hard time coming up with them now because when I meet someone my friend has been dating, I only focus on the positive.

I just let it slide and tried to avoid her the rest of the night.

When she came home for Christmas break, I avoided her texts and phone calls. I texted her back once, but only to let her know I’d been sleeping when she’d texted me the night before.

Well, I saw her at the bar again the day after Christmas. Again, I was with NY. And again, Becky said, “I wish he’d cut his hair!”

Well, this was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I wasn’t going to be nice about this anymore. So I said, “Well I sure do wish you’d take that nose ring out of your face.”

For the record, I don’t mind nose piercings. I think it actually kind of suits her. But I just wasn’t having that disrespectful shit anymore. Don’t insult my Man Friend. You don’t know him, and he’s been a hell of a lot more to me in the past month than you have been to me in the past few years.

I just can’t believe she would have the audacity to say that to me. TWICE. You know, I’m SORRY she’s in rehab. I’m SORRY she can’t keep a job. I’m SORRY she just wants to do nothing for the rest of her life.

That’s not my problem.

And don’t insult the people in my life who actually DO give a shit.

/rant