How I Became a Mean Girl

There is a reason that I have always preferred friendships with guys over friendships with girls. Sure, I have found in my older years that it is nice to have girlfriends, that they understand the singular difficulty surrounding being a daughter, wife, and mother, but women are all so sensitive. Men, on the other hand, never get their feelings hurt, and you can bribe them with the promise of sexual favors and never make good on those, and they will still be your friend, for like 20 + years and going strong. (Seriously, guys, I am totally good for those promises. I promise. Just another ten years or so.)

I am not a sensitive person. I don't know if I am self-absorbed, or if I am just clueless. I do know that my guy friends don't have their feelings hurt about things, and then not say anything to me about it for months, while instead talking to other friends about how I hurt their feelings, while I sit around having no fucking clue that I hurt their feelings in the first place. Usually, the first friend's confidante in turn tells me about having hurt Friend 1's feelings, but with the caveat that I can't tell the first friend that I know that her feelings are hurt, thereby making it impossible for me to rectify the problem or apologize to Friend #1 without being a bad friend to Friend #2.

This is complete bullshit. If you have your feelings hurt, just fucking tell me. Otherwise, move on. Guys don't seem to get their feelings hurt, and if they do, they sure as hell don't talk about it to other people, and they don't hold grudges. They get over it.

People, I just like to have a good time drinking margaritas and beer on the beach. I don't really care who is sitting there with me. All are welcome. I buy what I can afford at the time. Contrary to popular belief, everything I do is not a calculated move to hurt people. Hell, nothing I do is calculated. I don't usually know what I am going to do in the next ten minutes, much less have a Machiavellian plan for being the Queen Bee or a Mean Girl.

Oh, and another thing? The clique thing? So eighth grade. Can't we all just be adults and get along? Better yet, can't we actually bring in some new blood every once in a while? We are thirty, not eighty. I still enjoy meeting new people. It makes life interesting. Let's live a little.

Love,
Heather