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This is a bit of a spanner in the works for my not thinking about Leon resolution, to be sure. But I can handle it.
Wednesday, 12 November (#ulink_b945455d-7d70-5494-b05c-4949b5accce3)
posted by EditingEmma 11.15
Stupid Friends
At break, I sat down with Faith and Steph.
‘Guess what I did last night,’ I said.
‘What?’
‘Went to my first after-school activity.’
‘Cool,’ said Faith. ‘The fashion thing? How was it?’
I paused.
‘Faith, I’m not sure you heard me properly. I went to an after-school activity. I stayed at school longer than I was legally obliged.’
She blinked. ‘Congratulations?’
‘What?! Come on! This is big!’
‘I stay behind to finish my art projects all the time,’ said Faith.
‘I have football practice on Tuesdays and monthly matches on Saturday,’ said Steph.
I sighed. ‘This is just like becoming a pen-writer all over again,’ I said.
‘What?’
‘So in primary school, you know how you use pencils, and then graduate to pens?’
Faith shrugged. ‘Can’t remember.’
‘Well in our class it was a really big deal. The first pen-writer, Gail Wandsworth,’ I said her name with venom, ‘was treated like bloody royalty. Her pen was bestowed upon her like a knighthood and everyone clapped. And she was all, I’m Gail, everywhere I go I leave a trail of permanent ink that smells like roses and superiority. Gail… ugh. Then there was Polly Kendrick, and Dan Sharma…’
‘Are you going to go through your whole primary school class?’ asked Faith.
‘Shh,’ said Steph.‘I want to see the depths of her bitterness.’
‘And by the time it got to me, loser Emma Nash, pen-writer number fifteen, NO ONE CARED ANY MORE. Does my achievement mean any less because I got there a bit later? Do my successes not mean anything on their own? Must they constantly be compared to that of my superior friends and peers?’
‘You’re right.’ Faith patted me on the shoulder. ‘Well done.’
‘I just don’t feel like you mean it.’
‘Better show appropriate enthusiasm, Faith,’ said Steph, ‘You don’t want to end up like Gail, buried in a shallow grave with a pen stuck down her throat.’
Why do I bother?
posted by EditingEmma 13.55
Steph came with me to look at the fashion show sign-up sheet, to see what teams I’m on. I got social media and design like I wanted!! Score!!! Then Steph pointed at a name lower down.
‘LEON is doing it?!’ she shouted.
‘Yup.’
‘Agh, WHAT. WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME.’
‘It’s no big deal.’
‘It IS a big deal. AGH. That’s so ANNOYING. This was something you were just doing for you. And he has to ruin it with his stupid…annoying…presence!! Ugh, why doesn’t he just cheese off, seriously!!!’
‘Cheese off?’
‘It felt right in the moment.’
‘Don’t worry,’ I said, ‘he won’t ruin it.’
‘AGH!!! It’s so UNFAIR.’ She shook her fist at a passing Year 7.
‘Steph, really!’ I took hold of her fist. ‘I was a bit shocked and at first I was very…aware of him in the room…but after a while I just got on with it and forgot about him.’
‘Really?’ Steph peered at me.
See. I can’t lie to Steph.
‘OK, I didn’t totally forget about him. But I nearly did. I promise. He’s not going to ruin it.’
‘He’d better not,’ said Steph. ‘Remember this is something you’re doing for you and ONLY YOU.’
‘I’ll remember.’ I nodded. ‘Anyway, he’s doing set with C-Holz, so I’ll barely ever see him.’
‘They’re letting Crazy Holly do set?’ Steph exclaimed.‘Isn’t that a health and safety hazard?!’
‘Probably.’
She got distracted then, thankfully. Because I don’t think I was doing a great job of convincing her. But she really needn’t be worried. I’m definitely not thinking about him.
posted by EditingEmma 20.19
Why Is My Mother Incapable of Dating Men With Normal Jobs?
Mum came into the kitchen, looking a bit glamorous for a Wednesday night…
‘Where are you going?’ I asked.
‘Out,’ she said.
Expansive.
‘You’ve got a date?’ I prodded.
‘…Yes.’
‘With who?’
‘The nice man we met on Halloween.’
‘Oh my God, the pumpkin carver!!!’ I practically screamed.
Mum sighed. ‘His name is Graham. And he’s a vegetable artist.’
I stopped. I stared.
‘A what?!’ I repeated. ‘What the hell is a vegetable artist?!’
‘Must you be so obsessed with my boyfriends’ jobs?’ Mum sighed. ‘Can’t you ever just focus on their personalities?’
‘I will, once you go out with someone who’s an electrician, or a plumber, or in advertising, or sales… What about sales, Mum? What about a nice, normal salesman?’
‘I don’t want to date a salesman. I want to date Graham.’
‘Well then. It’s up to you. But I’m afraid I’ll have to keep referring to him as the Pumpkin Carver.’
‘Vegetable artist,’ she replied, through gritted teeth.
She left before telling me what that meant, exactly. I’m sure time will tell.
Thursday, 13 November (#ulink_2ccd24b2-e472-5731-8dc0-ace56791ae74)
posted by EditingEmma 17.01
Friendships Take Actual Work: A Realization
So, in amongst all my terrible friend-making, I’ve been comforting myself with the fact that at least mine and Gracie’s friendship is totally solid now. Well, I was in for a rude awakening from the cold mackerel of truth. This afternoon I was sitting with her, giggling at ‘worst sex injuries’ on the internet (which I’ve got to say, doesn’t inspire me – the most clumsy person in the universe – with much hope for my future) when she said, ‘So, when are you going to start dating again?’
‘I’m not,’ I said.
She laughed.
‘What?’ I asked.
She realized I was being sincere then, and nodded in a way I imagine she thought was supportive.
‘Gracie,’ I said. ‘People don’t have to have a love interest to lead a worthwhile and satisfying life.’
‘I know,’ she said.
Silence.
‘People don’t. You do,’ she added.
And for some reason, even though it’s completely a comment I would usually expect from Gracie, it sort of stung me out of nowhere. I’d foolishly let my guard down, because I think somehow I thought our relationship had just… I don’t know…magically transformed over the holidays. But no, here we were, just the same people as we were last term.
After she said that she went back to the laptop, as if nothing had happened, and I sat back feeling grumpy and childish. I decided to ignore her until she noticed and then go to lessons. But, clearly too enthralled by genital piercing mishaps, she didn’t notice me ignoring her… And during this time, I had time to cool off and assess my options. I thought…
1) I can carry on ignoring her
2) I can snipe back at her
3) I could actually say something
1 and 2 are definitely how I’ve spent my entire life with Gracie, up until now. I took a deep breath. I so badly wanted to walk off and scribble ‘Gracie is a butt’ over my work all afternoon (it’s very therapeutic). But I thought about my resolutions. If I wanted things to change, I was going to have to change them.
‘Gracie.’ I broke my silence (that she hadn’t yet noticed). ‘I feel like we need to chat.’
She looked up from her screen. My heart started thudding.
‘About what?’
‘Um, important relationship stuff.’
‘Oh,’ she said. ‘All right…’
She leaned back in her chair, looking at me expectantly.
I continued. ‘It’s just… Er.’ Oh God, this was hard. I swallowed. ‘I know we’re all good now and that’s great, but I feel like we can’t have a fight, clear the air and then just move on. I feel like maybe we need to talk about how we’re going to change our relationship, otherwise we’re just going to fight again. And clear the air. And fight again. And it will be an endless cycle of fighting and air-clearing until we have no air left to clear. Our friendship will be trapped in an airless room and die.’
‘Uh huh,’ she said, looking at me like I’d just put on a hat in the shape of a pineapple.
‘Right.’ I ploughed on regardless.‘So I’ll go first, then. I feel like…sometimes you unnecessarily make me feel like I’m being weird. Like just then. And it’s mean.’
‘Ooookay,’ she said.
‘There!’ I shouted. ‘You’re doing it again! Talking about our relationship is not a weird thing to be doing!’
She sighed. I waited.
‘All right,’ she relented. ‘I don’t think you’re weird, but this makes me feel…uncomfortable. I don’t really like talking about this. So maybe it’s a defence or something, I don’t know.’
‘GOOD!’ I yelled, doing a little dance. ‘Progress! Get it all out in the open, Gracie!’
She paused.
