I'm not exactly grouchy-pants anymore, due mostly in part to the fact that I had a day off to decompress from the stresses of retail during the back-to-school season. Lately, I have felt like every little aspect of my life has been yanking at me, begging for more attention than I have to give. I have become a pro at this juggling act that I am in, and I am not willing to let anything drop; however, my priorities become a little more clear each day, and it's nice to give my time and energy to those things that make me a priority as well.
Jeff and I had our first little disagreement this weekend. I will admit that it was partially my fault, not because I started it, but because I didn't tell him what was bothering me. Communication is not my strong suit, and I am not quite used to communicating with someone who is my significant other. His best friend, Brian, came in from out of town for the weekend, and the plan was for us to all get together either Friday night or Saturday night. I was really excited about the whole thing, mostly because I cannot remember the last time that someone I dated actually wanted me to meet someone that was a friend or family member. Friday night did not pan out because I had to work, and I felt like dog crap by the time I got off, and I was guaranteed to not make a good first impression. I opted for Saturday night instead, and after a full day of driving all over three counties to attend two separate wedding celebrations, I arrived at Jeff's at around 11 pm.
I was a little unnerved immediately upon arriving because Brian's girlfriend, Ashley, had shown up unbeknownst to me. This probably wouldn't have been a huge deal to anyone normal, but it freaked me out to epic proportions. I am incredibly shy when it comes to meeting new people, which is probably somewhat surprising to anyone who knows me well since they don't really see the timid side of me. I had explained to Jeff a week or so prior that I was glad to meet Brian without Ashley for the first time because I can't handle too many new people simultaneously. I also had a lot of anxiety over this situation because I was walking in as the outsider. They already had their established threesome, and I was the new girl. There was too much chance of me not being liked and/or being approved of for me to be relaxed about it. I could have had a full-blown anxiety attack within moments had I not willed myself to keep it together. I immediately clammed up and ceased to be able to string sentences together because my nerves were getting the best of me. Everything that my former therapist taught me about overcoming social anxiety went right out the window. I felt like a jackass and a loser.
To make matters worse, I did not hit it off with Ashley at all. I keep referencing the movie "Mean Girls" when I relay this story to my friends. Girls can be flat out nasty and horrible to one another, and it's petty and stupid and unnecessary. Having no experience or knowledge in general psychology, I can only imagine that this chick felt threatened by having another girl invade her space. She is probably used to being the center of attention, and while there was never the idea that she was jealous of my being with Jeff, she still did her best to make me feel unwelcome. Her body language was defensive, and she made snide little comments that only I caught the nastiness of. I kind of felt like I was in the twilight zone because this girl is at least five years younger than me, yet she made me feel like an intimidated little kid. The longer I stood there, the more pissed off I became at her and at myself for allowing her to get to me. Everything was just awkward. I could tell that I was the buzzkill, and I could not wait to get out of there. I even turned down the offer of a margarita that probably would have relaxed me enough to tough it out because I just wanted to go home.
My mistake of the whole night was telling Jeff that I was "fine" when he asked me what was wrong, even though he knew I was lying. I just didn't want to start something else and make an already crappy situation worse. These were his friends, and they were staying at his house, and I felt like the bad guy, even though I know I didn't do anything wrong. I drove home in tears, convinced that I had somehow blown it with the one decent guy that I have hit it off with in months....maybe years? We have since talked about what happened, but I don't really think that he gets it. Guys don't understand girls' craziness. They don't understand that we are territorial beasts and that invaders must be skinned alive and hung upside down from the nearest tree to serve as an example to any who attempts to come after. I was up all night worrying that Jeff wouldn't want to see me anymore because I was a spaz and awful at meeting people, and God only knows what he will think when he takes me to meet his mother. (Somehow, I doubt that his mom would do everything in her power to make me feel like trash, although I have seen the J-Lo movie, "Monster in Law," and Jane Fonda is my worst nightmare in that role.) My point is that I was all wrong about him being angry at me for being socially inept; he was ticked that I allowed someone to intimidate me at his own home without telling him what was going on. I get that; I need to work on verbalizing what is bothering me. It's hard to get used to having a boyfriend who cares enough to listen, especially when he thinks he may be part of the problem.
I also need to work on growing a set of balls. Because the next time I come face to face with that bee-yatch, I'm going to crush her like a little bug. Or I may simply skin her alive and hang her from the nearest tree to serve as an example to the next chick who tries to intimidate me. Bitches need to be taught a lesson, and this spaz will not get taken down again.