Helloooooo? How about a little me time?
Fuckin’ A. I simply marvel at how easy it is for women to make bundles of time for other things and other people, but can’t even make the time to call me to tell me they’re already going out someplace else, or that something came up and they have to cancel our plans, or simply hi how are you I miss you I was just thinking about you.
How about a little attention here?
Not that it has to be the Me channel 24/7, but I’m sick of being ignored, unacknowledged, or just generally moved down the priority list.
I made plans to go to Here with Irena when I talked to her last night, after she had finally returned my call from two weeks ago. Today before I left the branch, I called her to ask what she’s going to wear tonight, and she proceeds to tell me how she forgot she made plans with some coworkers to go to some OutFest screening tonight (OutFest must’ve gotten hipper in recent years as there are at least 4 people I know who are going to some sort showing or event sometime in between tonight and the festivals end on the 21st. Or it’s an impact of the expansion of glbt cinema), and that they had reminded her about it this morning. As it was already 7:00 when I called, my first thought was, ‘Um okay but when were you planning on telling me? When I knocked on your door to pick you up tonight?’. My second thought was, ‘Um, well, instead of going to Here we could just go to the screening together’, because lesbians and movies together always scream ‘I’m there’ to me. But I didn’t mention it because I didn’t want to invite myself, though I thought that she would notice the obvious logic and ask me to come along, right?
But noooooooo. She had read my mind and started going on about how she wishes I could come too, but that they’re going to all carpool from work straight there, and that you can only buy tickets online and you have to do it a day ahead of time and a lot of other lame excuses that didn’t make any sense. I mean, I know for a fact that the screenings at OutFest all end around or even before 11pm, and we weren’t even planning on going to Here until 11:30. There isn’t any real reason why she couldn’t do both. Plus, they sell tickets online up until a couple hours before the show, and even after that there’s still usually tickets available for sale at the door, so I know that’s also a Crock O’ Shit.
Personally, I think it’s just one big fat fabrication, and if there’s one thing that I hate more than being made to feel low on a woman’s priority list, it’s being LIED to, or when people hide things from me.
So I told her, “Ohmigod, fuck you.” and hung up.
I am still going to Here, and the lovely Emmanuel is coming with me because he had no plans. ‘Elmo’ has become my personal assistant fag that I go to whenever I need to bitch and moan. When I told him what had happened with Irena and asked him if he wanted to go, he said, ‘Oh nuh-uh. Bitch is triflin’. You need to slap that ho and teach her not to disrespect!’ Oh, how I’ve missed having a queeny ghetto Mexican who talks shit with me in my life. They tend to remind me of the Lady Chablis, the drag queen in Midnight In the Garden of Good and Evil, “I’m the motherfucking Lady, BITCH”, and that’s always fun.
Well, as the Lady herself would say, “Two tears in a bucket. Motherfuck it.” I’m off to have dinner and then pick up my beaner queener so we can head to Here and have the GAYEST NIGHT EVER.
How about a little attention here?
Not that it has to be the Me channel 24/7, but I’m sick of being ignored, unacknowledged, or just generally moved down the priority list.
I made plans to go to Here with Irena when I talked to her last night, after she had finally returned my call from two weeks ago. Today before I left the branch, I called her to ask what she’s going to wear tonight, and she proceeds to tell me how she forgot she made plans with some coworkers to go to some OutFest screening tonight (OutFest must’ve gotten hipper in recent years as there are at least 4 people I know who are going to some sort showing or event sometime in between tonight and the festivals end on the 21st. Or it’s an impact of the expansion of glbt cinema), and that they had reminded her about it this morning. As it was already 7:00 when I called, my first thought was, ‘Um okay but when were you planning on telling me? When I knocked on your door to pick you up tonight?’. My second thought was, ‘Um, well, instead of going to Here we could just go to the screening together’, because lesbians and movies together always scream ‘I’m there’ to me. But I didn’t mention it because I didn’t want to invite myself, though I thought that she would notice the obvious logic and ask me to come along, right?
But noooooooo. She had read my mind and started going on about how she wishes I could come too, but that they’re going to all carpool from work straight there, and that you can only buy tickets online and you have to do it a day ahead of time and a lot of other lame excuses that didn’t make any sense. I mean, I know for a fact that the screenings at OutFest all end around or even before 11pm, and we weren’t even planning on going to Here until 11:30. There isn’t any real reason why she couldn’t do both. Plus, they sell tickets online up until a couple hours before the show, and even after that there’s still usually tickets available for sale at the door, so I know that’s also a Crock O’ Shit.
Personally, I think it’s just one big fat fabrication, and if there’s one thing that I hate more than being made to feel low on a woman’s priority list, it’s being LIED to, or when people hide things from me.
So I told her, “Ohmigod, fuck you.” and hung up.
I am still going to Here, and the lovely Emmanuel is coming with me because he had no plans. ‘Elmo’ has become my personal assistant fag that I go to whenever I need to bitch and moan. When I told him what had happened with Irena and asked him if he wanted to go, he said, ‘Oh nuh-uh. Bitch is triflin’. You need to slap that ho and teach her not to disrespect!’ Oh, how I’ve missed having a queeny ghetto Mexican who talks shit with me in my life. They tend to remind me of the Lady Chablis, the drag queen in Midnight In the Garden of Good and Evil, “I’m the motherfucking Lady, BITCH”, and that’s always fun.
Well, as the Lady herself would say, “Two tears in a bucket. Motherfuck it.” I’m off to have dinner and then pick up my beaner queener so we can head to Here and have the GAYEST NIGHT EVER.