June 26th, 2012
by Jodi · Filed Under: Ponderings
When you were younger life was carefree and summers were never long enough. You spent all your time at the beach or as you got older, with your girlfriends at the beach. Conversation never lacked with them and although from time to time someone would have an attitude with someone else, for the most part you all got along great. As you’ve aged, though, things have changed. Some jealousies have cropped up, new girls have come into the mix and there’s this weird underlying tension that, at times, makes you uneasy. You long for the “old days” when life was so simple and you didn’t notice how critical and self centered some of your girlfriend’s have become and now here you sit on the deck with them all, on a gorgeous summer night, wondering why you don’t measure up and how come this doesn’t feel so good anymore.
I think obsessively…about how no matter how much I work out, I never have legs like X have. Her legs are perfect. Honestly, if I had my way, I lace a bottle of Nair with something and give her something jacked up to worry about for a change. Sigh. And why Z just keeps shooting out jabs all night long about how *she* doesn’t have to work out that much anymore and how *she* solved all her issues with this great trainer and how *perfect* her body is now and why don’t *I* go and see him, too, since I’m working out so hard. I would have punched her in the mouth if it wasn’t for the fact the she’s married to a lawyer.
With eyes wide open I see…a woman beyond great legs in X. She’s spent more time asking about me and my life than anyone else here. Yes, I’m jealous and I have to get over that. She has great legs and I want them. She also just spent 10 minutes frothing over my hair. Granted, hers does look like she had a horrible run in with a Vitamix on the high setting, clearly I need to get over myself and help her out. I never thought to help her because I can’t get past her legs. What is my gig? And for the love of all that is holy, poor Z. Seriously. Man, I would kill for her body and I would love not to work out so hard but if that’s the only thing she can talk about all night—I’d rather remove my excess body fat with a Flowbee and a butter knife in a back room of a seedy bar than be that obsessed. More than anything, I don’t know if anyone else notices the way I do—but Z is one unhappy camper.
Here comes the wine and the chatter goes from casual, catch-up kind of chatter to slower, more personal talking amongst you all. You realize the group is beginning to splinter off into smaller conversations on the deck and you’re not sure which one you want to join. X and Y are chatting about their kids. Cute convo but you don’t have any and you’re not sure you want to go there all night. Z, A and B are talking about Z’s marvelous adventures with her new star trainer and all that that entails. You’re ready to go MMA on her if you have another glass of wine. Time to slow the pace there. C and D are chatting about nothing in particular, yet, but both of them intimidate you. You’re not sure which one is has it more together but it doesn’t matter because either one makes you feel like an amateur at life. You decide to hop in with them and the squirming, primping and excuse making by you starts almost immediately.
I think obsessively…how fat I feel. How dumb I look. How much I haven’t done with my life. How much I struggle to keep my body looking the way it does and they don’t. They’re not asses like Z is, which is nice, but they still don’t have to work hard to look great. It would take me hours to find an outfit like C’s. I’d never be able to put something together like that. Why do I look like I just raided a halfway house’s linen closet and D looks like the model out of the fall catalogue of Ann Taylor Loft? UGH!!
With eyes wide open I see…something I have never seen before. Either we have never talked alone like this or the wine makes people share things they never would have before (who guessed the wine?). Here are two women I truly admire and have a serious girl crush on talking about struggles that they have that I would 1) never imagine and 2) do not ever struggle with. The fears and paranoia these two ladies have is mind boggling. Now truth be told, they’re both 2 glasses in with no signs of slowing down and I can’t imagine what they’ll be sharing in an hour or so. I feel bad. I have spent a long time being jealous and insecure over their lives when I’m now sitting here thinking I would do anything not to be where they are right now (and not in a judgey sort of way, more like in a “I’m-sorry-I-didn’t-realize-you-were-human-because-I’ve-been-so-obsessed” sort of way.)
The night ends with you becoming closer with two people who you can learn a lot from and share with. They can give you a better sense of fashion since your idea of dressing up is taking a shower and wearing deodorant and you can show them how to live life since you do that pretty well without even trying. Both of them are in love with you because you spent half the night talking them off of a ledge and helping them see the faultiness of their logic without making them feel like jerks. It’s a rare talent but you clearly possess it. Now if you can just stomach Z for more than 10 minutes, you may be able to find something good in her, too…
The summary of all four posts is next. Hang tight, it’s time for some rules, guidelines and empathy… Woop woop!