well, da-da-dat's all folks...enough said...

Honestly, one of my short-comings, well, I guess it’s one of my short-comings, is that I’m not overly forgiving. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’ll give someone the benefit of the doubt. First and foremost, I firmly believe that the piss poor acts of some people should never jade you against all. I never judge a book by its cover. I assume, regardless of clothes, manner of dress, the way one carries themselves—redneck in Walmart clothes to gentleman in Armani—that all are equally likely to be good, or not so good, souls. In fact, I might be a bit of the odd duck, since I generally assume all are good souls until otherwise proven—by themselves—unworthy of that assumption. But still, once proven wrong…well, I don’t generally waste my time. Like my Grams used to say, “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.” When I was younger, that’s all you got. One chance. If someone screwed that up, well, it was a done deal. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized that on occasion, granted rare occasion, that might be too hasty of a deal. For one, I didn’t wait and see if they did it by “accident” or without malicious intent. Now, I might wait and see. I might.  Afterall, not everyone is thinking about the ramifications of theirs or someone else's actions (although maybe in the case that follows, maybe they should be).

Recently, I heard that one of my so called best friends, I use so called now, was actually conniving and scheming behind my back for a drastically long amount of time. It was well worthy of a blog in March or April this year—especially when you consider that in February my sister and a couple of my closest friends asked me why I wasn’t thinking about moving back to South Carolina. I miss the Carolinas—the beach, the mountains. Where else can you be less than 3 hours from both? Only the coasts…ah, but I digress.  First, let's clarify a couple of things.  One, I've always had really good to best friend guy friends.  Really (and you'd know this if you've ever read my blog).  I don't expect them to be wolves in sheeps' clothing or jerks on a mission.  I have a pretty good opinion of most of my guy friends.  While this guy friend had given me pause, I had given him the benefit of the doubt.  (Fool me once, right?)  Eventually, he, himself, defined me as one of his "best friends".  So when it became apparent that another "best friend" of the male sort might benefit him more than I, well, apparently, he decided to let me be thrown in front of the bus and offer no aid.  I wasn't sure at that time though.  I was disappointed to be sure.  No one wants to think that one of their "best friends" would choose one "best friend" over another--and especially not after telling my sister that if I were to move back to SC, I did actually have one friend that I would expect to stay in contact with.  Afterall, I don't take the term "best friend" lightly.  Imagine my disappointment only a couple weeks after this conversation to find out that one of my best friends was in fact a jerk who simply called me that for whatever his motivation was.  Still, not one to begrudge anyone, I just distanced myself--not completely but enough to avoid anymore disappointment.  Or so I thought.  Roll to July.  In July, my new boyfriend (oh right for those of you that know how ridiculous, outrageous, annoying and otherwise less than satisfying my dating--non-existent dating life could be, yes, new boyfriend) finds my name on the bathroom wall where I hang out with this bunch of so-called friends.  Now this isn't a bar, it's like a little clubhouse, and it's not a Sons of Anarchy or some random joint where you would or should expect this type of behavior to be considered even remotely appropriate...that said, the boyfriend was really upset.  So was I,...now that I knew about it.  The next evening this so-called best friend tells me that it's ok because "it's been up there for over 6 months; it's not that big of a deal."  SERIOUSLY!  Not that big of a deal?  Would you want your daughter's, your mother's, your grandmothers', your sisters', cousins', nieces', granddaughters' names on a men's bathroom wall?!?!?  This pissed me off so bad I told him that he probably shouldn't sit with us that evening.  (My big sis is probably thinking she should come to Kansas to kick some *ss about now.)  Now, for the final sting.  Oh yes, there's actually more.  This jerk then goes around bragging that he in fact wrote the crap on the wall.  The disappointment just couldn't stop until all limits were off.  I'm a pretty energetic person.  You piss me off and I'll likely let you know it.  Well, unless I've lost all interest in you as a human being...well, then, I've simply got little to say to you about it.  Unsurprisingly, he'll only know how disappointed I was if he reads this blog, because I see no reason to explain what it means to be a friend to someone who obviously is clueless. 

I've got to thank him in a way though--in gesture only.  The outcome of this fiasco was that all of my so-called guy friends jumped all over me.  Of the couple that apologized, all but one punched lined their apologies with an excuse coupled with a basic gist of "get over it".  Really?  Yes, really.  Honestly, I've never been so hurt in my life and my ex-husband cheated on me while I was pregnant and rubbed my nose because in his mind a pregnant woman couldn't leave him.  And honestly, having half a dozen of my friends treat me like this was my fault, that they left my name on a bathroom wall for over 6 months, not only wasn't anything to really truly apologize for, but it was my fault in their little minds was just too much.  Honestly, since I thought they were my friends, it was much like being raped.  Demeaned by so-called friends, people that I thought I could trust, who not only let me down all at once, but had no shame in trying to place the blame on me.  I had often joked when people would ask me (including some of them) why I didn't have a boyfriend that it was because all I hung out with was a bunch of guys.  But, in retrospect, with such little respect from them, I can't imagine any guy who met me, particularly while I was hanging out with any of them, that would think that I would be worthy of dating.  If your own friends would leave your name on a bathroom wall, what could they possibly think of you?  Knowing some of my guy friends that I grew up with, I know what they would think of a woman in that position--afterall, I've been "one of the boys" to them since we were six years old.  It wouldn't bode well for that woman.  And, I suspect it did not bode well for me to the guys that didn't know me that read it either.  I was simply lucky that my boyfriend had known me for several weeks before he saw that...

Now, here's the thing.  I still thought I was going to ride this mess out.  I know, right?  It's insanity for me to think that I should be around any of these guys anymore.  But I did.  I figured that at least 2 or 3 of them still had my back, and if I stuck it out, it would all come out in the wash.  Then a really good friend finds out that I'm upset about it and tells me that one of these good friends actually told him 2 months before my boyfriend saw it that not only did I know my name was on the bathroom wall, but that I was OK with it!!!!  WTF!!!!  Yes...yes, seriously. 

Here's the thing.  I just don't know what to say anymore.  I've never been so disappointed by so many friends, so-called friends, in such a short time.  I mean every single one of them saw it.  They could lie all they want, but it's irrelevant.  Only one actually genuinely apologized.  One of them that I truly expected to have my back turned out to be just as bad as the one who I thought was one of my "best friends".  So I was the brunt of their joke.  It wasn't laughing with me.  It was laughing at me.  I had no idea it was there, and in fact, to some of them that seem to make it more justifiable and more funny instead of less.  Fool me once, shame on you...make a fool out of me several times before I even know it...well, enough said...