“Susannah, you’re looking awfully ashen this morning.”
“Pale dear, you’re looking pale.” (I knew what ashen meant.)
A woman I LOOSELY know at 6:45 this morning when the sun wasn’t even up, went out of her way to tell me this.
I don’t know about you but I don’t have a ‘full face’ on, as they say at that hour. Just for the record, she’s not exactly Elizabeth Taylor either.
Then I run into one of my 3 little ladies (post 12/17) who after bear hugging me says, “Susannah, aren’t you eating? Come, I’m buying you a steak.”
Again, let me repeat it was barely 7:00 and I haven’t had steak in 35 years. Think how pale I would have looked after that.
Yesterday though takes the cake. It started when a woman, who I thought was my friend, snubs me in the park like she owed me money. Now I like her so much and have no idea why the relationship has gone south but I see it’s no longer merely my avid imagination. The sniper part was that she sent me an email to tell me I might run into her. What she didn’t say was, and just so you know, I’ll be snubbing you when I do.
My friend who doesn’t want to be friends anymore has no idea how much she has hurt me. The casualness of it, no discussion just slow defection like she’s backing out of a room, wounds. I just don’t understand it. And how thoughtful for her to be doing this over Christmas.
It’s a shame what an incident like that does to your day. It was all downhill after that. I had a skirmish with my my best pal Amy over Thomas Jefferson no less. She was right, I was wrong, but I acted like a lion with blood in its eye.
Have you heard the term ‘displaced anger?’ Well mine was slathered from here to New Jersey. I took my snub out on her so shame on me. She did say she liked who we were fighting about, I mean not everyone gets to throw a punch over a founding father.
Then I go to my hairdresser’s for my Christmas coif where he proceeds to tell me with lots of glee mind you, how a guy I sent to him came and said terrible things about me. Deal with that while henna’s fermenting on your head. It was a like a roast at the Friars with only one (bad) comic.
When I left there I was 3 inches shorter. I felt awful. I’m from the school of, ‘if you can’t say something nice shut the fuck up.’
It even affected my writing. I came home and sat in front of my computer like I had wounded paws. Finally at midnight I was able to pen a post that I felt wasn’t one of my best since it was longer than Gone With the Wind (12/20).
Just when you think it can’t get any worse someone you really can’t stand appears to be stalking you. I’ve tried ignoring it figuring fatigue would set in but it hasn’t so now I may be forced to get legal. Nothing like decking the halls with a threatening letter.
Why anyone would want to barge into someone’s life who doesn’t want them in it; they should will themselves to science.
One good thing, we’ve figured out why I’m pale. (I mean ashen)
In any event, what I’ve learned in my 50 plus years is that things don’t stay the same, they shift and pass, amend and fade so I’ll just have to walk softly and carry a big umbrella.
“That would be stick Susannah.”
“Just couldn’t let that go by now could you?”
We have just added cyber-sniping to the mix.