PlazaJen: Passion Knit

Wednesday, August 17, 2005

Mea Culpa

I was driving home from work yesterday, the Migraine Gnomes doing their darndest to fissure my brain right in two (I believe they were using a combination of ice picks and jackhammers), and I had the windows down & no radio on - just the sounds of other cars & the air flowing through my car. We've finally gotten a spate of weather that isn't torturous, and I wanted to enjoy it.

I was thinking, for some reason, about people to whom I owe an apology. I try not to live with loads of regret, but sometimes random memory strands break off & float around in my brain. Probably released by the Migraine Gnomes. Here's who's on the list right now:

1. The Wilsons in my hometown. Granted, they were strange kids in general. But all of a sudden, when they got off the schoolbus, they would stop and peer into a hole in the hill. This somehow got them dubbed "Turtles". (I guess there was a turtle in the hole.) One night, I was dared to open the window and shout "TURTLES!" at them, and I succumbed to peer pressure, and then subsequently felt horrible. I berated the next person who did it, and the whole thing subsided a bit. But I'm sorry. I was 9? Kids are stupid. You're not a turtle.

2. The incredibly insecure and self-centered gay friend in St. Louis. You asked me about my weekend and then, without giving me even a chance to inhale to speak, launched into a description of yours. At the end, you looked at me, not asking about me, and I asked you, "What's it like to live in a bubble, lined with mirrors?" You nervously laughed and ignored the insult. It was really mean of me, but I have to give myself props for such a scathing capture of the situation. In any event, I hope you're more aware of the world around you, and I'm sorry I was so blunt. But I did drag you out of the closet. Does that balance things out?

3. To all my dear friends that I suck so badly at staying in touch with, for indeed, I am a raccoon, distracted by shiny things off in the ditches, and I wander and lose my way. I am so blessed that you do not hold it against me, and that we allow a timeless nature to preserve our friendship. Your grace is the formaldehyde that sustains & preserves the wonderful connection we have. Thank you & forgive me.

4. To the former boss who tried to fire me and never did any work (BEYOTCH!): I'm sorry that after you gave your month's notice, that it was me who told everyone you used two people under you to do the research (using company resources) to write your grant-winning business plan, and consequently, you embarassingly were asked to leave immediately, despite having already quit. Yeah, actually? I'm not sorry about that one at all, bitch. How's the karma bus feel when it backs up over your scrawny ass?

OK, I'm never going to fully lose my mean streak. My upbringing fostered a fast, sharp tongue, and clever slicey observations were rewarded with adoration & praise. I am my harshest critic, though, and that is my punishment. Maybe one of these days, I'll figure out how to fully forgive myself.
posted by PlazaJen, 7:06 AM