Angry Angela

Have you ever had the experience where you're out and about somewhere, places you normally go and feel secure, and you run into someone from the past?  Someone from the past that you never thought you'd see again nor had any desire to see again?

Today that happened to me.  I was at the grocery store, same place, same time I always go and, boom, I ran right into a person from my past, a mean, ugly woman named Angela who had bullied me while we were in school.

I gasped, startled.  I was about to turn around and run before she noticed I was there, but it was too late.

We stared at one another for a moment.  What was I supposed to say?  I wanted to yell at the top of my lungs and scream obsentities and tell this person just how much she ruined my life.

She wasn't saying anything, so that left it up to me.  I thought she had left town.  I had been so thankful for that.

"Angela, what are you doing here?  You have a lot of f-ing nerve to show up here after all this time.  What you didn't beat me down enough the first time?  You had to come back for more?"

"A lot of things happened since high school, Fran."

"Oh, yeah, what kind of things?"

"Well, I graduated high school with a D average.  I had trouble finding a job or I would get fired.  I was partying all the time and became an alcoholic.  Eventually I was arrested and had to attend court-ordered anger management.  How have you been?"

I threw my shoulders back and smirked.  I know I should have felt some sort of sympathy or, at the very least, some sort of relief because this person is really messed up and that's why she took it out on me.  But somehow life wasn't enough of a lesson for her.

I said, "I have a successful job that I've had for several years.  I'm in line for a promotion soon.  I own my own home and car.  And I'm dating a wonderful man who treats me the way I deserve to be treated."

"I'm sorry the way I treated  you in the past, Fran.  Can you forgive me?"

What's this?  Angry Angela is apologizing to me?  She wants my forgiveness for her past behavior?  Why, to make her feel better just like bullying me made her feel good about herself when we were in school?  Why does she need an ego boost from me?  There is no way I could give her the satisfaction.

"Can I forgive you?  No.  No, I can't?"

I smiled to myself and walked past her.  Damn, that felt good.  For once, I had the upper hand.

Birthday-Zilla

I woke up feeling achy and sore.  When I got out of bed, my back was bend over and it took me a while to straighten myself out.  There was something wet on my leg.  Had I peed myself?

I was wearing a nightgown that looked like it was out of Little House on the Prairie.  Funny, I hadn't remembered putting it on last night.  I tried to see what time it was but my vision was blurry.  What had happened last night?

I realized what the day was.  It was my birthday -- my 30th birthday.  No wonder I felt so bad.  I had probably gone out drinking last night. 

I put on my slippers and thought they didn't quite fit.  My toenails seem to be hitting the front of the slipper.

Slowly and in pain I made my way to the bathroon and switched on the light.  I looked in the mirror. My hair was gray and my face was wrinkled.  I looked like I was 100 years old. 

I screamed and fire came out of my mouth setting the room on fire.  I kicked off my slippers.  My toenails were claws.  I screamed again more fire.  Everytime I screamed, fire.  The building was burning down.  I started clawing at walls.

Then it woke up.  It was all a nightmare.  I started breathing heavily, thankful it was all a dream. At least my birthday hadn't arrived yet.

There's a Sucker in Every Shoe Size

Lilly was insistant on a pink bridesmaids dress -- this you already knew -- so now I have to buy pink shoes.  Shoes I'll never wear again. Well, maybe I'll wear them again as an accent color.  But I'll never wear the dress again for sure.  Too, yew, ugly.

I went to PaySome Shoe Source to pick out a pair of white shoes that they'll dye the appropriate color.  There were a handful of styles.  Lilly said to pick out which ever kind I liked best so I did.  It has little flowers that go across the foot.

The sales woman asked me my size.  I told her 6.  I have worn a size six since I was 14.  Well, I tried them on and they felt tight.

"When's the last time you bought shoes," she asked.

 "About a year ago."

"Hum, I think we need to measure your foot."

My foot?  I thought they only did that with kids.  So, okay, I nodded and she brought the device over and measured.

"You're a six and a half."

"My foot grew?"

"Yes," she said.  "That can happen due to pregnancy, weight gain and age."

"Age?"

"Yes, age.  Are these the shoes you want?  We have them in your size."

I nodded.  Yes, my size.  Just what I always wanted:  Pink shoes and a growing, aging foot.

I placed my order and left the store feeling, well, different and not in a good way.  Who wants a larger foot?  Really, what's going to get larger next?  My butt?  My stomach?  My thighs?  Certainly not my ego.

Moon Over Hickville

I've said before that I live in small town.  Too small sometimes.  We're large enough that everyone doesn't know everyone else but small enough that we're all related if you go back far enough.

There is a social club here.  There is no membership; you just have to live within village limits.  I haven't been there in years so, for whatever reason, tonight I decided to go. 

What a mistake.  There was no one there whom I would be interested in.  They were either teenagers, old retirees or freaks and geeks.  (Freaks and Geeks, remember that TV show?)

One of the geeks is Hal.  He likes going around telling everyone he was named after the computer in 2001: A Space Odessey.  And he has the movie memorized, too.  Every single line of it.  It's a scary thing to see.

As I ordered myself a hotdog and a bag of chips I could feel Hal watching me.  I sat down at a table and Hal sat across from me, uninvited, and grabbed one of my chips.

"Hello, Fran.  How's it shaking?"

"It's, uh, shaking just fine, Hal.  What about you?"

"I was thinking of going to a Star Wars convention dressed as Han Solo.  Want to come and be my princess Leila?"

I rolled my eyes and sighed.  Really a geek sci-fi convention?  I just walked through the door.

"I bet you'd look real cute with your hair up in buns."

"OK, sure, Hal."

"No."

He reached forward and try to touch my hand.  I pulled back.  I only intended to pull back my hand but in reality I stood and then yelled at him, "No, Hal, I don't want to go with you.  I don't want to be your geeky princess.  And I certainly don't want you to regale me with stories of how you're named after some damn fictional, psycho computer."

The entire room was staring at me. I struggled my shoulders and shook my head.

Hal look mortified.  I grabbed my hotdog and left.

I'm never going there again.

When I Grow Up

Since Working Women Wednesday a few a weeks ago I have been thinking about my future.  I mean what future do I currently have?  My job with SAT TV is unbearable.  It's getting to the point where I don't want to go in anymore.  This is affecting my work performance.

So once again I am back to the idea of going back to school, but who wants to be the oldest student there?  It's embaressing. 

But really I have no idea what I want to do with my life and I should by now.  I should know.

I found myself again looking over the college website and dreaming.  Dreaming of what, I'm not sure.  Everything seems like it would take too long or cost too much or not be the perfect fit for me.  But what would be the perfect fit for me?

At one point I found myself looking at the graphic design page and daydreaming of Bill who works in the office building.  If I learned graphic design, in theory, I would be qualified to work for the same company he does.  It was a wonderful fantasy that I almost -- almost -- clicked on the "get more information" link.  I'm just not there yet.

The End is Near

I woke up this morning and looked in the mirror.  I looked haggard and tired.  I felt haggard and tired.

At breakfast I happened to look at the calendar hanging on the kitchen wall.  I caught sight of the date.  My birthday is exactly one month away.  That's it.  One month.  In one month I'll be 30.

How could I be almost 30?  I should be much further along in my life than this.  I should have a stable relationship, maybe have children.  I should live in a better house, drive a better car.  I should be in a career I enjoy.  I should know what I want to do with my life.

How can I turn 30?  I haven't even gotten out of my quarter life crisis yet.

Pretty in Pink

As you recall, I promised Lilly I would go dress shopping with her.  It is only because I love her like a sister that I will do this.

We went to Amy's Bridal, which was having a special sale, and it was jammed packed with crazy brides-to-be looking for a great deal.

It took a while before we were waited on.  Had I known this I wouldn't have had to take off of work early.  Our consultant was named Rita.  Rita showed us around the store. 

Lilly had to pick her dress out first  -- and it took forever.  So she had to try on, like, a million dresses, asking maddening questions all the while about how her boobs look and her butt looks, straps or strapless, train or no train, it's too expensive, not expensive enough.  Finally, she picked something to my relief.

Then we went to the bridesmaids section and Lilly picks a dress right away.  She only had me try on three, like they do on the bride's shows on TV, and, boom, she made a decision.  And it's pink.  Ugh.  I'm going to look like a blown-up piece of bubble gum in front of all those people.  How could she?  She must really be afraid her bridesmaids will outshine her.