Category: Words

An imaginary conversation about being a jackass

The concert is in an hour…what time do you think you’ll be here?

I’m not going to be able to go…

What do you mean? You were supposed to be here an hour ago!

Something came up, I can’t make it.

Oh no! Was there some sort of emergency?

There’s something at work I need to take care of, so I need to do that today instead of going to the show.

That sucks–couldn’t they have told you sooner?

They told me a couple of days ago.

Why didn’t you tell me?

I just did.

You know what would have been really nice?

Are you going to be bitchy about this? It isn’t my fault I can’t go. I have to work. I would much rather go to the concert.

I am going to try really hard to ignore the comment about being bitchy.

Well, you are.

Maybe I should stop trying so hard. It would have been really nice if you had let me know when you found out instead of an hour before you were supposed to be here. For instance, on the same day you found out. That way I could have made arrangements for someone to use your ticket. As it is, now I will barely make it on time myself!

Sorry. I’ve been busy. It won’t happen again.

That’s what you said the last couple of times it happened. And the times you didn’t bother to call at all.

You don’t need to be so bitchy about this. It isn’t my fault.

You know what? It IS your fault. The problem is not that you can’t make it, it is that you decided not to tell me about it in time for me to make other plans. That was your completely your fault.

I don’t need to listen to you attacking me for no reason.

I love that you get defensive when you do something rude and someone calls you on it. I am not attacking you, and I am not being bitchy–but if I was being bitchy, it wouldn’t be for no reason. You are just trying to deflect this away from yourself in your own mind.

I’ll talk to you when you are capable of discussing this like an adult. I don’t want to listen to you call me names for no reason.

There hasn’t been a single bit of name calling, except when you implied that I am acting like a child for telling you I think it was rude not to tell me your plans had changed. Your actions were inconsiderate. That is simple fact, not name calling.

You need to change the subject. You are not being rational about this. I had no control over this. It’s work.

You had complete control over deciding not to mention it for two days, and as a result, now I’m stuck with a ticket. A ticket I paid for. Instead of calling me that night or texting me right when you found out, you opted to do nothing. The only reason I found out you weren’t coming is because you were so late that I texted you to find out what was going on. If I hadn’t, I suppose you would have just not showed up or called me at all.

Do we have to go over it over and over again? I was going to call you, and I fucked up. I said I’m sorry, you don’t need to jump on my ass about it.

Here’s the part where I stop trying to be nice entirely: fuck your lack of consideration. Fuck your disregard for anyone’s time but your own. Fuck all of your shitty excuses, and fuck you. In case you need help identifying a feeling, that was anger.

Thanks.

Any time.

I really am sorry.

You really aren’t. If you were really sorry, you wouldn’t keep doing it. It’s pretty simple, really.

It won’t happen again.

No, it probably won’t.

I don’t think I like the way that sounded.

I don’t either.

Can you forgive me?

It isn’t a question of forgiveness, it’s more of a question of acceptance.

The work stuff isn’t something I can fix.

No, but how you handle rearranging the other things in your life is something you control entirely and your choice is usually to spread your inconvenience out onto me. That isn’t OK.

You’re right.

You know it isn’t about who is right or wrong. It’s about you not treating me well. I need to leave now.

You’re still going?

You think I should waste the money on both tickets?

No, you’re right. Go. Talk to you soon.

Goodbye.

Hey!

What?

Don’t say goodbye!

What should I say?

You usually say you love me or something.

This time I said goodbye.

Do you mean it?

Goodbye? Well, it’s a very frequently used word in these situations. I am on my way out the door.

See you soon. Maybe tomorrow.

You like maybes. I don’t. ‘Bye.

I really don’t like this. Really? Goodbye? Love you.
Shit.

Penis. Vagina. Go Ducks!

Lately I have noticed that any of my posts that are even remotely sexual get a lot more hits than other posts.

The exception? Posts about football.
Football gets more views than anything.

This will surprise no one.
The sex part, I mean. Everyone knows how popular sex is. The football part is a little surprising to me, but I suppose it’s America. Football is the new American arena sport. Instead of gladiators, we have young men in tight pants and shoulder pads. Instead of maces and tridents, they have footballs. We aren’t allowed to feed anyone to the lions, so we let these highly trained young men give each other traumatic brain injuries in the name of entertainment instead.

Uh…yeah. I’m a college football fan. Cognitive dissonance much?

A little bit, yes. It’s really hard for me intellectually to justify throwing a bunch of young men onto a field and letting them hurt each other for entertainment. Even if the injuries are not the main attraction, they are still a frequent side effect. The pros are well paid, but there are an awful lot of high school and college players getting injured who never make it to a pay day.

Scholarships? Sure. That’s a very fair trade for playing a game, but the diagnosed and undiagnosed permanent injuries give me pause. Especially the brain injuries. How much brain damage does a scholarship compensate for?

If the rate of injury was as high among academic scholarship holders, would most of them accept the risk?

Is there an acceptable rate of possibly undiagnosed and indiscernible potential future disability for high school and college players? Is it ethical for an institution with the stated purpose of eduction to expect recruits to sign off on it?

At what point does it become an issue for OSHA?

I wonder.

Sexuality and online dating

I have yet to actually meet anyone in person from the online dating site I’ve signed up for. One near miss.

What has happened is that I have gotten a lot of messages about my looks. Badly spelled messages. There are a handful of people who I will possibly meet at some point.

And then there are the ones I really wouldn’t be interested in dating, but I have had some great talks with them online about their gender roles and sexual identity.

A lot of us think of sexual preference as an either/or. You like men or women and pick one. You are the gender you were born with, and you stay with that gender. For many people neither their gender identity or their sexual preference are that clear.

There is a whole Queer world out there that a lot of people are unaware of. Or make fun of. I think of it as just another thing in life that is interesting and complicated. It’s a little hard for me to relate to because I can’t imagine wanting to be anything other than female. I haven’t ever wanted to be male. I love men, but it’s not who I want to be. It must be tremendously difficult to feel like you were born with the incorrect gender.

OK. I am falling asleep. This is no time to write.

My social life and writing are all out of balance. I need to try to do better.
Good night!