(no subject)
So, time for another rant. This one involves the hood of my car flying up and busting my windshield while I was driving and my 'best' friends complete disregard.
So, this weekend I was gonna drive to Houston from Denton (about 3 1/2-4 hours). I was gonna drive to Houston, work from open to close at my job both Saturday and Sunday. And, while not working, I was gonna have lots and lots of sex with the coworker (Kyle) that I've been dating for about a month and haven't seen in the last two weeks.
I hadn't told my mom I was coming home. I was gonna go stay at Kyle's the whole weekend, sex and work, those were my planes. My friend Elle called me Tuesday night and asked if I wanted to go out Friday night with her and some friends to go dancing in Houston. Well, I would have been driving for the last 4 hours and I would have had to be at work by 7:50 the next morning and...partying with Elle can be kind of intense. Normally, that's totally cool. But, I was looking forward to pulling into the parking lot of Kyle's apartment, going inside, and chilling out (subtext = SEX). So, I called Elle Wednesday and I was like, "Okay, I'm gonna be totally girly, but I kinda wanna be all domestic on Friday. Do you hate me?" and she (not sounding super happy) was like, "You're not gonna party with me? No, I don't hate you, I just think you're gonna be kind of disappointed. But, ya know, call me if you change your mind." So, I was like yeah. Then I sent her this text later that was like, "Ya know, I have plans in my head for Friday but his might not be the same. So I'm gonna call him, and if his plans don't involve lots o' sex, I'm gonna party." She never responded and I talked to him and we decided to still stay in. I didn't really think anything about it, and she texted me a question last night that I responded to so I figured all was fine.
So, today, I rush through my whole day so I can leave by like 3 and get to the boys apartment between 6 and 7...to start the sex, ya know.
Then, after getting everything done that I needed to; I pack up my car, jump in, put gas in it, and start heading toward H-Town. As I hit Lewisville...the hood of my car flies up and smashes into my windshield!
So, I'm in the middle lane and I quickly move over to the shoulder, thankfully there was no one around me. I get out of my car, carefully, before I start cursing and screaming. It takes me a second to figure out who to call. So, not necessarily in this order ('cause I don't really remember), I called my work, AAA, and my mechanic because they'd been the last people under my hood the night before so it was most likely their fault.
A cop pulled up behind me to chill out while I waited for a tow truck, which made me a tad nervous even though I had nothing to be nervous about. heh
So, while I'm sitting there waiting I text two people: My roommate Elizabeth and my best friend Elle. I'd called Elle first, but it had rung three times before cutting to voicemail.
Elizabeth's response: Omg! Are you okay?! Do you need anything from me.
Elle's response: Call Kyle, I guess.
Um...okay. At first I'm just kind of like, what? Then, I text her and I'm like, "No, I mean, yeah I'll tell him but I was kinda freaked out. Sorry to bother you."
She never texted me back and I was only mostly annoyed by it. But, I went on. Had my car towed, talked to my mechanics (where they were all like, yeah, we'll figure it out. Call ya tomorrow. Here's a ride home), called the boy and talked for like an hour about how bummed out we both are that I wasn't gonna be heading back and how he missed me (and since we're not actually in a relationship and just fucking around, that was nice to hear), and settled in with a sandwich.
Later, after my roommate gets home, we're talking about what happened and I bring up the Elle thing again and she says she thinks that's really shit. I'd just been mostly annoyed before, but now I'm like pissed off. Then, my roommate points out that Elle probably thought I was in Houston already and how that makes it even worse.
Suddenly, I'm not just pissed off, but I'm hurt. Like, I could have been seriously fucked up. She knew I wasn't telling my mom I was coming home, and she knew I'd had plans for a while to stay with Kyle. I wasn't that chick blowing her off to hang out with a boy, these had been my plans.
I just, shit, she's my best friend, right? And even if I was pissed beyond belief at her for doing some...okay, if she called me tomorrow and said she needed a ride to Houston and she was stranded or whatever, even after she'd been a shit to me, I would still drive where ever she was because that's what you do for your good friends.
And, I wasn't even asking her to pick me up. I don't do that. I take care of my own shit and I don't rely on other people. I just wanted to fucking talk to her, my friend who is supposed to be there for me. If she was in school I'd get that, if she was at work or, shit, was doing anything, really I do understand, but she didn't give a shit.
Fuck, I could have been dying on the side of the fucking road and all she said to me was, "Call Kyle, I guess."
I just...I'm fucking hurt and pissed off.
That was my rant. [/Rant]
So, this weekend I was gonna drive to Houston from Denton (about 3 1/2-4 hours). I was gonna drive to Houston, work from open to close at my job both Saturday and Sunday. And, while not working, I was gonna have lots and lots of sex with the coworker (Kyle) that I've been dating for about a month and haven't seen in the last two weeks.
I hadn't told my mom I was coming home. I was gonna go stay at Kyle's the whole weekend, sex and work, those were my planes. My friend Elle called me Tuesday night and asked if I wanted to go out Friday night with her and some friends to go dancing in Houston. Well, I would have been driving for the last 4 hours and I would have had to be at work by 7:50 the next morning and...partying with Elle can be kind of intense. Normally, that's totally cool. But, I was looking forward to pulling into the parking lot of Kyle's apartment, going inside, and chilling out (subtext = SEX). So, I called Elle Wednesday and I was like, "Okay, I'm gonna be totally girly, but I kinda wanna be all domestic on Friday. Do you hate me?" and she (not sounding super happy) was like, "You're not gonna party with me? No, I don't hate you, I just think you're gonna be kind of disappointed. But, ya know, call me if you change your mind." So, I was like yeah. Then I sent her this text later that was like, "Ya know, I have plans in my head for Friday but his might not be the same. So I'm gonna call him, and if his plans don't involve lots o' sex, I'm gonna party." She never responded and I talked to him and we decided to still stay in. I didn't really think anything about it, and she texted me a question last night that I responded to so I figured all was fine.
So, today, I rush through my whole day so I can leave by like 3 and get to the boys apartment between 6 and 7...to start the sex, ya know.
Then, after getting everything done that I needed to; I pack up my car, jump in, put gas in it, and start heading toward H-Town. As I hit Lewisville...the hood of my car flies up and smashes into my windshield!
So, I'm in the middle lane and I quickly move over to the shoulder, thankfully there was no one around me. I get out of my car, carefully, before I start cursing and screaming. It takes me a second to figure out who to call. So, not necessarily in this order ('cause I don't really remember), I called my work, AAA, and my mechanic because they'd been the last people under my hood the night before so it was most likely their fault.
A cop pulled up behind me to chill out while I waited for a tow truck, which made me a tad nervous even though I had nothing to be nervous about. heh
So, while I'm sitting there waiting I text two people: My roommate Elizabeth and my best friend Elle. I'd called Elle first, but it had rung three times before cutting to voicemail.
Elizabeth's response: Omg! Are you okay?! Do you need anything from me.
Elle's response: Call Kyle, I guess.
Um...okay. At first I'm just kind of like, what? Then, I text her and I'm like, "No, I mean, yeah I'll tell him but I was kinda freaked out. Sorry to bother you."
She never texted me back and I was only mostly annoyed by it. But, I went on. Had my car towed, talked to my mechanics (where they were all like, yeah, we'll figure it out. Call ya tomorrow. Here's a ride home), called the boy and talked for like an hour about how bummed out we both are that I wasn't gonna be heading back and how he missed me (and since we're not actually in a relationship and just fucking around, that was nice to hear), and settled in with a sandwich.
Later, after my roommate gets home, we're talking about what happened and I bring up the Elle thing again and she says she thinks that's really shit. I'd just been mostly annoyed before, but now I'm like pissed off. Then, my roommate points out that Elle probably thought I was in Houston already and how that makes it even worse.
Suddenly, I'm not just pissed off, but I'm hurt. Like, I could have been seriously fucked up. She knew I wasn't telling my mom I was coming home, and she knew I'd had plans for a while to stay with Kyle. I wasn't that chick blowing her off to hang out with a boy, these had been my plans.
I just, shit, she's my best friend, right? And even if I was pissed beyond belief at her for doing some...okay, if she called me tomorrow and said she needed a ride to Houston and she was stranded or whatever, even after she'd been a shit to me, I would still drive where ever she was because that's what you do for your good friends.
And, I wasn't even asking her to pick me up. I don't do that. I take care of my own shit and I don't rely on other people. I just wanted to fucking talk to her, my friend who is supposed to be there for me. If she was in school I'd get that, if she was at work or, shit, was doing anything, really I do understand, but she didn't give a shit.
Fuck, I could have been dying on the side of the fucking road and all she said to me was, "Call Kyle, I guess."
I just...I'm fucking hurt and pissed off.
That was my rant. [/Rant]