What Piece Are You? (And NO, this is not a fucking Quiz)
When I play Monopoly, I usually grab the top hat.
I have no idea, but that's what I choose.
Of course, I'm the type that buys up all the cheap properties and builds them up until I'm getting a pretty steady income that's not too shabby, then I start moving in on the big stuff. Again, what insight does this give anyone about me? I doubt much! But that's how I play.
Now, jasonanonymous knows this is my playing style, so he will buy up as many of my personal favorites just as quickly as he can. Then, I have to wait for him to be sucking horribly and then make him trade them off, one by one, until I have them all.
That's another thing about my playing style: I make the kill slowly, like a cat that's cornered a mouse but isn't ready to quit playing yet. I will make overly generous deals once I'm certain to win. Being the benevolent benefactor just seems to make winning that much sweeter. There's nothing like giving them way more money than a property is worth, just to have them hand it back to you the next turn and have to mortgage everything they own just to cover costs!
Monopoly, what a game. We haven't played in a really long time. In fact, the last time I played a board (bored??) game was The Game of Life with recycling, peg2, jasonanonymous and another friend a year or more ago. It was at a very small, very odd celebration honoring peg2's birthday. Surprisingly, I didn't get drunk that night. I'm guessing it was because there weren't a lot of my husband's friends there. Don't get me wrong, all people in attendance that night would be considered his friends. Not that I don't like them, but that their affinity and affection lie with my darling hubby.
In fact, I feel that most of the people I know in the real world tolerate me only because of him. I don't feel bad about this. He is a very jolly, jubilant person and that feeling is contagious for the many people in his life. This, coupled with his strong desire to help people and his need to save the many lost souls of the world, makes him an extremely popular person amongst his friends and colleagues.
This can be an extremely beneficial thing, as I am not a very likable person. I'm moody, dismissive, straight forward, rude (I like to call it truthful, but not everyone agrees), and just plain strange! I'm one of those people that would be called a real go getter if I were a man, but am referred to as a bitch because I'm not. Usually people like me well enough to not kick my ass or to invite me along, but they invite me because my husband would like me to be there. At least, that's my fear. I've always had this lame-assed hang-up about people liking me for me. It has been a very long time when I had a friend close enough that I didn't have to explicitly describe what I was feeling for them to understand.
I had a friend like that once, a very long time ago (8 years ago this week, to my recollection). She was my best friend and I adored her. We were friends, soul siblings. I was a year older, so I often took on the role of mother, teacher, caretaker, while she was often the one used and abused by humanity until I rescued her.
We were like to sides of the same coin. We looked similar and were both very well spoken, with similar speech patterns, haircolors and face shapes. We were just similar enough to be the same, just removed from each other to be different. In fact, while in college, my advisor asked me if I had any siblings because he could have swore that he had just handed out a scholarship to my sister. I simply asked if her name was Rebecca. He nodded and I explained that we had been very close at one time, but that I didn't really know her anymore.
... And I didn't. She had screwed me over and I dropped her. I would go into more detail, but it is not necessary at this time and the memory hurts my feelings still. I am not a very forgiving sort in that I find it very hard to forgive one who has given me a mortal wound. Instead, I would rather deal a wound twice as deadly and then watch him bleed. I did that to her without touching her and I knew it when I did it. I knew that I had ruined her pathetic little world. Or should I say that she ruined it. I mean she did it to herself, didn't she? By hurting me so badly, by destroying my trust? By breaking my heart and marring my soul, didn't she deserve to hurt as I hurt? Yes, she did.
Well, that was how I felt then, anyway. I've mellowed a lot since that time. I don't drink nearly as much, nor do I hang out as much. In fact, sometimes I feel like I don't know who I am anymore as I don't really do much beyond work and housekeeping. Lately I've been more open to experiencing life than I have been in longer than I can really remember. But it's not the same -- and I haven't found anyone that touches me like she did, nor understands me like she did. Sometimes I pine for that relationship like a dog waiting for his master to return home. Our relationship was deeper than any friendship i've ever experienced. It was beyond friendship. Like lovers that were in love but never loved. I know, weird shit that doesn't make sense. That bitch - Why are people so fucked up?
Well, now that I've made you wonder what the hell just came out of this journal and assaulted you, I'll go and try to do something quasi-productive, like laundry or dishes. Who knows, maybe I'll convince jasonanonymous to play Monopoly with me ... then again, maybe not ;-)