MEAN GIRL
March 10. 2007
at 09:08
Posted by Heather Duffin in The Chronicles
Comments (0)
Trackbacks (0)
View as PDF: This entry | This month | Full blog
Posted by Heather Duffin in The Chronicles
Comments (0)
Trackbacks (0)
View as PDF: This entry | This month | Full blog
I happily grabbed my take-out order of Thai food last night and hopped in my car. I was excited for a quiet evening at home with my Pranang Curry and Hollywood Land, which had been sitting on my kitchen counter for over a week now.
Now, my mind seems to race all the time. I think I made some deal with God before I was born, that since I would fuck up and make lots of sin, I would be eternally cursed with a constant Heather's Life movie montage, running through my head. I have accepted this, and it often brings me much amusement as I giggle at things that have happened, or create scenarios of could-be's. The montage seems to run overtime while I drive, shower or am on the toilet. This is where either great ideas or tragic memories seem to wash over me.
As I drove home, my car beginning to stink from my food, I was thinking how happy I was in the blissful sunshine. Yeah, I hate the town I live in, but that would change after my lease ended. I was thinking how content I was in life. I was near my family, had a job I didn't hate, was crowned with glorious sunshine near-year-round, had a great apartment with a view of decorative garbage in the ravine next to me, had wonderful friends (even though most are across the country) who I loved and they loved me, and for the first time in my life I was truly happy being alone. The last part is the thing that has really stuck out to me lately.
I've never been one who was always in a relationship or anything, but I've spent a good chunk of my life in relationships, dating, or just messing around with various guys. I'd been living a life date-free (minus one date with a psycho who serenaded me with a Backstreet Boys song, then online stalked me for a month), relationship-free, and slut-free. I finally had learned not to jump into things I shouldn't. I had learned how to keep my zipper and legs closed. I had learned that it can be very good and very fulfilling to be alone, and I felt very happy and content with it all. Life is good.
That's when the Heather's Life montage kicked in, and my brain screamed, "You shouldn't be so proud, Heather. You're basically doing community service for the bad things you've done!"
What?
"You're saving men by keeping away from them. You're a MEAN girlfriend!" answered my brain.
Where was this coming from? I was happy. I was a good person with a good heart. My friend, Isaac even called me "a good egg" in his email that day. Then I realized what triggered this...
Now, my mind seems to race all the time. I think I made some deal with God before I was born, that since I would fuck up and make lots of sin, I would be eternally cursed with a constant Heather's Life movie montage, running through my head. I have accepted this, and it often brings me much amusement as I giggle at things that have happened, or create scenarios of could-be's. The montage seems to run overtime while I drive, shower or am on the toilet. This is where either great ideas or tragic memories seem to wash over me.
As I drove home, my car beginning to stink from my food, I was thinking how happy I was in the blissful sunshine. Yeah, I hate the town I live in, but that would change after my lease ended. I was thinking how content I was in life. I was near my family, had a job I didn't hate, was crowned with glorious sunshine near-year-round, had a great apartment with a view of decorative garbage in the ravine next to me, had wonderful friends (even though most are across the country) who I loved and they loved me, and for the first time in my life I was truly happy being alone. The last part is the thing that has really stuck out to me lately.
I've never been one who was always in a relationship or anything, but I've spent a good chunk of my life in relationships, dating, or just messing around with various guys. I'd been living a life date-free (minus one date with a psycho who serenaded me with a Backstreet Boys song, then online stalked me for a month), relationship-free, and slut-free. I finally had learned not to jump into things I shouldn't. I had learned how to keep my zipper and legs closed. I had learned that it can be very good and very fulfilling to be alone, and I felt very happy and content with it all. Life is good.
That's when the Heather's Life montage kicked in, and my brain screamed, "You shouldn't be so proud, Heather. You're basically doing community service for the bad things you've done!"
What?
"You're saving men by keeping away from them. You're a MEAN girlfriend!" answered my brain.
Where was this coming from? I was happy. I was a good person with a good heart. My friend, Isaac even called me "a good egg" in his email that day. Then I realized what triggered this...
Earlier that day my mom was showing our boss, a home builder, the picture and floor plans of her dream house. The three of us got into a discussion as to how much it would cost, where she could cut costs, etc. I chimed in that mine would be cheaper since I didn't want to deal with a yard and just wanted a townhome or a condo. That's when my boss, who is a good man, but is definitely of old school mind said it. "You just need to marry a man with money to take care of you."
I was disgusted. "I don't need, nor do I want, a man to take care of me. I'm too independent for that. AND I'm not getting married again."
"Well why did you get married the first time?"
"Because I was stupid," I answered.
This is where my mom chimed in. "She kicked him to the curb!"
I looked at her in horror. This is NOT what happened. "You KNOW that's not what happened, mom! He fell in love with another woman."
My mom smirked. "Yeah after you threatened to divorce him HOW many times?"
I knew this was true. I had pretty much decided I didn't want to be married as soon as our plane landed back in Seattle, returning from Maui on our honeymoon. Now, it wasn't all me. We were both not nice, nor very accepting of each other. I also went through a huge identity crisis going from Ms. Duffin to Mrs. Dietz. I felt owned, and I hated that feeling. Of course this was just my brain being stupid as usual. But I definitely did threaten divorce many times when I was mad. I was an evil wife, and had many times been a mean girlfriend. I at least acknowledge this, and vowed to never be this mean to a man again. Plus, if I never married again, I couldn't be an evil wife. So I'd be a nice girlfriend.
After Jacob, I pretty much fell back into dating two months after he asked for a divorce. We all have to have our first rebound. Jim and I dated two months and after he yelled at me for calling him an "ex-Marine" (apparently once a Marine, always a Marine), I knew I was done with him. However, we were on our way for a weekend in Mexico when this happened. When laying on the beach while a man had been commissioned to making me a puka shell necklace by Jim, Jim wandered off. The kind, older man and I chatted for a bit and he asked me if Jim was my father. He WAS ten years older than me, but I was horrified that someone would think him my father. Then the evil took over and and I laughed and said no, but commented that he did look old and I thought he wasn't that attractive. When Jim and I mutually broke up, he said that he knew we'd be together again someday. I responded with laughter and told him I knew THAT wasn't going to happen, and hung up on him.
Next was some guy I only dated for three weeks. He was beautiful, but the dumbest man I've met in my life. I mean, this guy swallowed his tongue ring for Pete's sake! How does someone do that? Okay, so once I got velcro wrapped around a taste bud and my parents had to cut the string so I could remove my sleeve from my mouth, but STILL! Swallowing a tongue ring? One day in a coffee shop, after I'd had it with only hearing about his stupid, rich boy stories, yelled, "Do you not have anything intelligent to say?" I never heard from him again.
There were other incidents while dating over the years. I wasn't always mean, but I think I have tourettes and just blurt out whatever is on my mind sometimes.
"Your pubic hair is out of control!"
"You smell bad."
"Go home. Get out of my bed and just go the fuck home!"
But all of these I attribute to dating the wrong guys. I mean, I made stupid choices and don't feel so bad about yelling at some guy who just shoved what turned out to be a Viagra in my mouth. Nor do I feel bad leaving a man's toilet bowl clogged with my tampon and diarrhea after he tells me he slept with a friend of mine a week before. Mean girlfriend had a RIGHT to be mean. Thing is, it's also my fault for not getting out when I saw things getting bad, then blowing up at them rather than nicely removing myself from the situation. Then it happened. I fell in love.
I don't want to get into too much detail, as this is one that still hurts sometimes. I'm over it, but to this point, he was the love of my life. Things were beautiful and he was my best friend. I finally understood loving someone you could also call your best friend. He made life even better than it was. I didn't pick him apart or gross out at anything with him, like I usually do. He was perfect with who he was, and I loved him to death. I was even nice to him! I wasn't being mean at all! Then it happened - mean girlfriend reared her ugly head one night after his friend pissed me off. After we argued about it, I shouted, "Well if you like him so much, let HIM suck your dick!"
The moment it came out, I slapped my hand over my mouth trying to shove it back in. He was rightfully pissed. "Fucking mean girlfriend, you need to go back to your cave," I screamed at myself.
We surprisingly got over it, then I became nice girlfriend again, vowing to never be mean like that again. Three months later, we almost broke up. It wasn't fighting, just that he wasn't sure about things. I said I didn't want to be with him if he didn't want to be with me. In tears, he said he did. He was lying. Three months later, he lied about something stupid. I was angry that he lied about something so dumb, because I figured if he lied about that, he was obviously lying about bigger things. We were in L.A. and in a drunken rage, I screamed at him in front of all his friends. My brother, who was there, called me a psycho, rightfully so. Mean girlfriend was back. A week later he broke up with me and admitted he HAD been lying to me. He hadn't loved me in three months, and he walked away. At least I felt vindicated in thinking he was lying about bigger things.
I was alone again, and I knew I needed to be. A lot happened as a result of that breakup, and this time I honestly swore I would never be like that again. It was life-altering changes that happened, and I came out of everything, rebirthed. If something was bad, I would get out with pride and not a reputation as a nut case. I was alone for six months, then started dating again. I would start clean. Mean girlfriend was dead, I thought. Turns out she was still there, but had some brain damage and couldn't come back with her full capabilities.
The next guy and I started dating based off of not the best of circumstances, but it turned out nice. We got along well and had a lot of fun together. I was never mean to him. I would calmly talk to him if something upsetting happened, which was once. However, mean girlfriend wanted out. I yelled at her to stay in. We ended up compromising and just drew a large Christmas scene on his back in permanent marker, as he slept. We then took pictures of it. Another time we compromised and used a Listerine strip to perform oral sex. I didn't know any better, but I think mean girlfriend did. I ended up burning the shit out of his penis. "Okay, mean girlfriend, no more compromises! It's back to the cave for you!" We broke up a couple of months later and though sad, I didn't act like a nut case. Mean girlfriend stayed put. She has stayed there ever since. However, I've stayed away from men for the most part, since then. I think the garlic and large cross seems to keep her and the men at bay.
My brain is right, I'm totally doing community service by not dating.
I was disgusted. "I don't need, nor do I want, a man to take care of me. I'm too independent for that. AND I'm not getting married again."
"Well why did you get married the first time?"
"Because I was stupid," I answered.
This is where my mom chimed in. "She kicked him to the curb!"
I looked at her in horror. This is NOT what happened. "You KNOW that's not what happened, mom! He fell in love with another woman."
My mom smirked. "Yeah after you threatened to divorce him HOW many times?"
I knew this was true. I had pretty much decided I didn't want to be married as soon as our plane landed back in Seattle, returning from Maui on our honeymoon. Now, it wasn't all me. We were both not nice, nor very accepting of each other. I also went through a huge identity crisis going from Ms. Duffin to Mrs. Dietz. I felt owned, and I hated that feeling. Of course this was just my brain being stupid as usual. But I definitely did threaten divorce many times when I was mad. I was an evil wife, and had many times been a mean girlfriend. I at least acknowledge this, and vowed to never be this mean to a man again. Plus, if I never married again, I couldn't be an evil wife. So I'd be a nice girlfriend.
After Jacob, I pretty much fell back into dating two months after he asked for a divorce. We all have to have our first rebound. Jim and I dated two months and after he yelled at me for calling him an "ex-Marine" (apparently once a Marine, always a Marine), I knew I was done with him. However, we were on our way for a weekend in Mexico when this happened. When laying on the beach while a man had been commissioned to making me a puka shell necklace by Jim, Jim wandered off. The kind, older man and I chatted for a bit and he asked me if Jim was my father. He WAS ten years older than me, but I was horrified that someone would think him my father. Then the evil took over and and I laughed and said no, but commented that he did look old and I thought he wasn't that attractive. When Jim and I mutually broke up, he said that he knew we'd be together again someday. I responded with laughter and told him I knew THAT wasn't going to happen, and hung up on him.
Next was some guy I only dated for three weeks. He was beautiful, but the dumbest man I've met in my life. I mean, this guy swallowed his tongue ring for Pete's sake! How does someone do that? Okay, so once I got velcro wrapped around a taste bud and my parents had to cut the string so I could remove my sleeve from my mouth, but STILL! Swallowing a tongue ring? One day in a coffee shop, after I'd had it with only hearing about his stupid, rich boy stories, yelled, "Do you not have anything intelligent to say?" I never heard from him again.
There were other incidents while dating over the years. I wasn't always mean, but I think I have tourettes and just blurt out whatever is on my mind sometimes.
"Your pubic hair is out of control!"
"You smell bad."
"Go home. Get out of my bed and just go the fuck home!"
But all of these I attribute to dating the wrong guys. I mean, I made stupid choices and don't feel so bad about yelling at some guy who just shoved what turned out to be a Viagra in my mouth. Nor do I feel bad leaving a man's toilet bowl clogged with my tampon and diarrhea after he tells me he slept with a friend of mine a week before. Mean girlfriend had a RIGHT to be mean. Thing is, it's also my fault for not getting out when I saw things getting bad, then blowing up at them rather than nicely removing myself from the situation. Then it happened. I fell in love.
I don't want to get into too much detail, as this is one that still hurts sometimes. I'm over it, but to this point, he was the love of my life. Things were beautiful and he was my best friend. I finally understood loving someone you could also call your best friend. He made life even better than it was. I didn't pick him apart or gross out at anything with him, like I usually do. He was perfect with who he was, and I loved him to death. I was even nice to him! I wasn't being mean at all! Then it happened - mean girlfriend reared her ugly head one night after his friend pissed me off. After we argued about it, I shouted, "Well if you like him so much, let HIM suck your dick!"
The moment it came out, I slapped my hand over my mouth trying to shove it back in. He was rightfully pissed. "Fucking mean girlfriend, you need to go back to your cave," I screamed at myself.
We surprisingly got over it, then I became nice girlfriend again, vowing to never be mean like that again. Three months later, we almost broke up. It wasn't fighting, just that he wasn't sure about things. I said I didn't want to be with him if he didn't want to be with me. In tears, he said he did. He was lying. Three months later, he lied about something stupid. I was angry that he lied about something so dumb, because I figured if he lied about that, he was obviously lying about bigger things. We were in L.A. and in a drunken rage, I screamed at him in front of all his friends. My brother, who was there, called me a psycho, rightfully so. Mean girlfriend was back. A week later he broke up with me and admitted he HAD been lying to me. He hadn't loved me in three months, and he walked away. At least I felt vindicated in thinking he was lying about bigger things.
I was alone again, and I knew I needed to be. A lot happened as a result of that breakup, and this time I honestly swore I would never be like that again. It was life-altering changes that happened, and I came out of everything, rebirthed. If something was bad, I would get out with pride and not a reputation as a nut case. I was alone for six months, then started dating again. I would start clean. Mean girlfriend was dead, I thought. Turns out she was still there, but had some brain damage and couldn't come back with her full capabilities.
The next guy and I started dating based off of not the best of circumstances, but it turned out nice. We got along well and had a lot of fun together. I was never mean to him. I would calmly talk to him if something upsetting happened, which was once. However, mean girlfriend wanted out. I yelled at her to stay in. We ended up compromising and just drew a large Christmas scene on his back in permanent marker, as he slept. We then took pictures of it. Another time we compromised and used a Listerine strip to perform oral sex. I didn't know any better, but I think mean girlfriend did. I ended up burning the shit out of his penis. "Okay, mean girlfriend, no more compromises! It's back to the cave for you!" We broke up a couple of months later and though sad, I didn't act like a nut case. Mean girlfriend stayed put. She has stayed there ever since. However, I've stayed away from men for the most part, since then. I think the garlic and large cross seems to keep her and the men at bay.
My brain is right, I'm totally doing community service by not dating.
Trackbacks
Trackback specific URI for this entry
No Trackbacks
