Did I already post this? Oh well.
There�s nothing I love more than an excuse to be unproductive. When I am sitting on a plane -- for example, or traveling by any method that makes me a passenger, really � I am at my most mentally stimulated. Knowing I could not possibly fold my laundry or go grocery shopping or bake a cake is almost as liberating for my thoughts as an afternoon on acid (I�ve never actually done acid, being of unsound mind, but I can imagine). I find it impossible to free my mind from the tedium of day-to-day life except in these moments, and it is when I am at my best. When I try to ignore all of the things I could be doing at any other time, I find myself overwhelmed with forced apathy and end up accomplishing nothing instead of at least putting dirty dishes in the sink or whatever.
I was invited to Tahoe last week by Joanna, my Really, Really rich friend. Joanna and I have been very good friends since middle school. I can�t recall us ever having a real falling out, as I�ve had with all of my other forever friends, but we do tend to get very annoyed with each other. We have a bit of history, what with the various vacations we�ve taken with each other�s families since age 11, the living together in Seattle, all the things that come from a decade-long friendship.
We don�t talk all that often anymore; we�ll chat online once a week for a month and ignore each other the next. She thinks I�m a stubborn know-it-all (I am); I think she has no concept of or empathy for lifestyles other than her own (she doesn�t). We both have sociopathic tendencies, sadomasochistic for her, masochistic for myself, which is I think why we�ve stayed friends so long. I wouldn�t call my negative feelings towards her jealousy, although it is similar. More accurately, I get frustrated with her lack of understanding that hard work doesn�t always pay off. She recognizes her fortune on an intellectual level, but she will never understand what it means to go through a hard time.
All of the things we have in common, we manage to experience differently. We don�t really have a whole lot to talk about. We both like fashion, but she�s avant garde trendy, Chloe Sevigny trendy, wearing the sorts of outfits that are hideous until they�re edited down to commercial appeal two years later. I�m more commercially trendy, finding new ways to make things from hyper-commercial stores like Urban and Macy�s look original. A night of fun out and about consists of doing ironic things like bowling in a $900 sweater for her while I�d rather get trashed at a concert. She skips from boyfriend to boyfriend with complete control over her emotions, robotically releasing her feelings the minute she breaks another heart, while I give into irrational passion at a moment�s notice and obsess about it for months, reveling in my loneliness. She is silently judgmental while I am very vocal about what I think is wrong with your life and precisely how you can fix it.
Esp picked me up from the airport in Sacramento. Joanna was friends with Esp longer than I�ve been friends with Esp, but they�re in the falling out period of their friendships (they�re on a 5-year-on, 2-year-off cycle). I don�t know exactly what happened, neither of them cares to elaborate, and I don�t care to dig into the history. Aside from it being none of my business, I can�t say I care all that much. I don�t care all that much about all that much anymore anyway, so I can�t be arsed to dissect the causes behind this decade�s split.
Esp is almost always up for anything (see: running through sprinklers clad in only underwear in a public park at 3am), so she drove me around Sacramento so I could familiarize myself with the neighborhoods I might want to move to. From unsatisfying nachos and a Guinness in Midtown to taffy in Old Sac to buying new ski pants in Stripmalllville (in case my mom�s no longer fit me since I�m FAT now, have I mentioned that, that I�m FAT and I�m totally obsessing about it, like, obviously?), Esp was a trooper. Of course, it�s been two years since she graduated from college and she still lives at home and has yet to find a job, any job, so it�s not like she has anything better to do, which she readily admits. I don�t talk any more shit about my friends than I�ve already said to their face.
We had drinks and she helped me understand what I�ve been going through. We saw In Bruges with eight other people the same night everyone was graduating from ITT in the same theater.
She dropped me off at Joanna�s dad�s chi-sucking townhouse.