What You're Looking For is Not Here

I know I can’t compete with someone she’s known since she was in middle school, but it’s like being stabbed in the heart every time my best friend refers to her best friend as “the best” on Twitter.

I just want to crawl in a hole and die. The past couple weeks have been a non-stop crap parade.

I really believe that “fans” ruined the Callie/Arizona relationship. I really do and I don’t care if anyone agrees with me. I think that Sara and Jessica were friends or at least peaceful co-workers and got along great and had fun filming their scenes together. And then fans happened. They got thousands of messages asking if they (both married/committed ladies) were secretly dating their co-workers. And I think from that point, they started to distance themselves from each other. They didn’t take pictures together or talk about each other in interviews unless specifically asked. I know if someone or a group of someones got the idea that I was dating any of my co-workers, I’d distance myself, too, especially if other people (spouses) were involved. And people whined about not getting pictures or interviews or co-workers gushing over each other [which I personally don’t give a fuck about. I like behind the scenes pictures of the characters I like, but I take what is given and have never, ever begged (or even gently asked) for any behind the scenes photos because I know that no one in the cast or crew owes me anything.], which I think pushed things into the next stage and it just spiraled downward from there. And still, all these years later, people still whine online (to Shonda, to Sara, to Jessica, to the void sometimes) that it’s all their fault, taking no ownership of their own crappy actions.

I’m tired of being forgotten. I’m tired of making plans with people and showing up only to find out they forgot and have something better to do with that time. I’m tired of people just suddenly deciding I’m not worth their time and forgetting I ever existed. I’m tired of unanswered phone calls and text messages and emails. I’m tired of the onus ALWAYS being on me to make sure the other person remembers that we had an appointment together. I’m just tired.

Today, there was a training in a city about 30 minutes away from here. And I spent the last five days trying to figure out how many people from my work were going so we could ride together and save gas. But I never got word, so I drove myself this morning. Six of my co-workers came. Three in one car and two in another. (The sixth was dropped of by her boyfriend because they had a party to attend in the city today anyway.) And I’m left wondering if I’m really so horrible that they can’t stand to share a car with me for half an hour each way?

The first time I remember feeling ashamed for something “gay,” I was seven. My best friend and I, plus our older sisters, had gone to see some high school show-choir-type group perform at the high school and afterward, one of them was talking to us. They had these super sparkly sequined costumes and I don’t know if we asked or if she offered to let us touch them. I don’t remember consciously doing it, but I remember being embarrassed when someone pointed out that when I reached out to touch her, I touched her bottom.

I need more things, so my mood can stop living and dying based on a television show.

It’s easier to be angry than to be scared. It’s easier to be angry at you for not being around when you said you would be than to consider the possibility that you’re not around because you’re doing worse and you only have the energy to sleep and go to work.

Commenting on pregnant people’s bodies is rude. Speculating on how big they are, the sex of the baby, due date, anything else, RUDE AS HELL. Stop doing it.

I had a terrible day. Started with a misunderstanding with a friend and got worse with overhearing a parent scoff at my decision to have the kids wear gloves outside today.

When I was in 9th grade, we went on a class trip to this park-like place where we did all kinds of activities that were supposed to bond us or something. I remember very clearly being sat in a circle with a bunch of rich kids I’d known for less than a month and we were instructed to share with the group the nicest thing anyone had ever done for us. It was meant to bond us together, but after it was over, it just made me feel more separate from them than before.