A day of showing grats to the woman who went through hours of labor just to a birth the lovely, blood-and-guts-covered, shruken prune of a baby. What--only one day?
Now, I'm just being cynical.
Tinsley and I aren't doing so well.
Tinsley. My supposed best friend from childhood. Cliche, sounding isn't it? Well, that's my life. A stinking cliche. Bitter? Oh, yes.
Ever since her blossoming in the eighth grade, Tinsley has become the latest eye-catcher in town. She's always been a bit of a flirt but this year, the dial switched from 4 to 8.
Sometimes I can't stand her. All the boys she goes through. Wonderful connection, she leaves me for them...and then I ask, "What happened to So-and-So?" And she sighs. Says he's annoying, he doesn't understand her, whatever. It's always the same freaking thing.
I can't even talk to her for ten minutes without her texting her latest flirt-buddy. And to think, she's a Catholic. But hey---I guess those schoolgirl rumors come from somewhere.
Can't she understand that I really need someone?
I may be melodramatic but, honest to God, I feel like she's barely listening to me. And it's not just her. It's pretty much everyone. God, I sound like a fucking bitch.
And I get really pissed off when she takes my music. I am a hypocrite, I know. But when I take her music I make sure everyone knows I stole it from her and I'd never use a song she wanted. But no.
The bottom line is: I think I'm so ticked because I feel as though she doesn't give a flying hoot about me, my well-being, or our friendship. That's more untrue than true, but that's how I emotion.
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