Day 41: Boys are Stupider, because they are from Jupiter
You know, this not drinking thing, and this whole (air quotes, right here) being away from the husband thing, I get a lot of time to think. And talk. To my mother.
We were on our way back from performing numerous errands today that will only have to be performed repeatedly no matter how many times we do them because that's just how life is around here, when she mentioned that we would have to stop by and drop something off with a guy that's part of the tribe. A sub chief and jack of all trades.
"I wonder if John had that affair..." I mused.
"I told him to quit paying attention to you," my mom said. Apparently, I don't speak in code as well as I would like.
"What? You what?!"
"I told him to quit paying too much attention to you. He's a married man. You're a married woman."
"What did he say?" All I can say is at this point I was feeling rather mortified. Like when your parents get involved in anything that you don't want them to get involved in, especially since I never mentioned this to her, other than to say that he made me feel uncomfortable.
"I asked him if he hit on you. He said yes."
"Oh MY GOD! What did you say?
"I told him you weren't that kind of girl. And he said he knew that now."
I simmered for a minute, wondering what the HELL I had done to make him think that I would be "that kind of girl." I have not so much as WINKED at one of these men around here, yet he thinks I'm that kind of girl.
I think that's why drinking made such a great crutch for me. Whenever I came up here before and I was single, girls wanted to kick my ass, boys thought I was "that kind of girl." No matter that I hadn't dated any of the men around here, much less slept with them. No, no matter what I did, I was a whore. And one summer, because I was lucky, I got to be a crack whore. I guess you can tell that this bothered me.
Why? Because these people don't know shit about me. They're cousins of my cousins and friends of my friends. My family has chosen to make a life here, and every summer I get to come back and BE.A.WHORE. ARMY OF ONE. When I drank, I didn't care. It just made words like 'whore' and 'slut' cut a little less.
My mom always tried to teach me that if it isn't true, you shouldn't let it bother you. But I guess what I'm finding now is that it bothers me whether I drink or not. I just get pissed off AND VERBAL AND SOMETIMES VIOLENT about it when I drink.
But I don't know what it is. That I did. That would make him think that. THAT is what bothers me.
My mom says they're just jealous, but I think there's some contract you sign in the hospital before they hand over the baby that decrees YOU MUST SAY THAT. What would they be jealous of, for fuck's sake?
Blah. I'm really not that angry about that. Just perturbed by his remark. He should've known BEFORE.
Jane Says: We are family...
We were on our way back from performing numerous errands today that will only have to be performed repeatedly no matter how many times we do them because that's just how life is around here, when she mentioned that we would have to stop by and drop something off with a guy that's part of the tribe. A sub chief and jack of all trades.
"I wonder if John had that affair..." I mused.
"I told him to quit paying attention to you," my mom said. Apparently, I don't speak in code as well as I would like.
"What? You what?!"
"I told him to quit paying too much attention to you. He's a married man. You're a married woman."
"What did he say?" All I can say is at this point I was feeling rather mortified. Like when your parents get involved in anything that you don't want them to get involved in, especially since I never mentioned this to her, other than to say that he made me feel uncomfortable.
"I asked him if he hit on you. He said yes."
"Oh MY GOD! What did you say?
"I told him you weren't that kind of girl. And he said he knew that now."
I simmered for a minute, wondering what the HELL I had done to make him think that I would be "that kind of girl." I have not so much as WINKED at one of these men around here, yet he thinks I'm that kind of girl.
I think that's why drinking made such a great crutch for me. Whenever I came up here before and I was single, girls wanted to kick my ass, boys thought I was "that kind of girl." No matter that I hadn't dated any of the men around here, much less slept with them. No, no matter what I did, I was a whore. And one summer, because I was lucky, I got to be a crack whore. I guess you can tell that this bothered me.
Why? Because these people don't know shit about me. They're cousins of my cousins and friends of my friends. My family has chosen to make a life here, and every summer I get to come back and BE.A.WHORE. ARMY OF ONE. When I drank, I didn't care. It just made words like 'whore' and 'slut' cut a little less.
My mom always tried to teach me that if it isn't true, you shouldn't let it bother you. But I guess what I'm finding now is that it bothers me whether I drink or not. I just get pissed off AND VERBAL AND SOMETIMES VIOLENT about it when I drink.
But I don't know what it is. That I did. That would make him think that. THAT is what bothers me.
My mom says they're just jealous, but I think there's some contract you sign in the hospital before they hand over the baby that decrees YOU MUST SAY THAT. What would they be jealous of, for fuck's sake?
Blah. I'm really not that angry about that. Just perturbed by his remark. He should've known BEFORE.
Jane Says: We are family...
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on Saturday, July 01, 2006 at 5:28 PM.
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