I am out of my element. I am at work, and its night time. It’s after 1 right now and I am working. WHAT THE EFF IS THIS SHIT!? I’m only kidding, I love my job, I just love sleep more. This chair is really uncomfortable, it puts pressure on my hips and makes me feet go numb. And its warm back here, sleep…sleep…mouse…
So here is the deal, I live with my best friend. He is a boy, sometimes he makes me cry. Sometimes I make him mad. The other day we are arguing and I said to him “Cam, you are right we will never be even, you will always owe me something, but if you ever make me cry unwarranted, I will end you.” I feel like every woman functions like this. We all have our bitchy moments, and we all have semi-valid reasons for behaving is such an unattractive way. But on the RARE occasion that we are just mega-bitches and it seems really unprovoked, just remember that we are doing you a favor. By putting up with our shit, we know you really, really enjoy are company, when we are in our right minds. Also, we are kind of giving you a “get out of jail free” card. I mean, you snap at us, say something a little mean, forget you said you were going to do something, or do some other man thing that makes us cry. We will be super mad, and irrational. We will say mean things, but hold on… in that 3 seconds it takes us to process the fact that you used your rugged, manly ways for evil, we will be even. But only for that 3 seconds, once the retaliation starts. We are winning the bitch game.
Now I realize that I am by no means a normal girl. I think I might be on to something here though. Someone is keeping a tally here, and whether it’s him or her, or her, the best friend is keeping tabs on you and your bitch fits. If you aren’t putting up with their shit days, you are a bad friend. Unless you are one of those weird super nice ladies, the ones where you don’t have a bad thing to say about anyone, and you would never tell anyone that you are totally prettier than this one guys ex wife. When in reality, this bitch is uglier than sin, and potentially the Queen Troll of the ugly forest. But that is all beside the point. What I am trying to say here is that, girls need to be bitches sometimes, if only to make up for our abundance of emotions. If a guy makes us cry (only a little cry, he yells or hits you, GTFO) but we remember that we bitched at him for like 3 hours when he left his face pubes on the bathroom sink, it will take the sting out of things. Once the clouds of fiery rage part, and rational thought is restored. We will dry our tears, remember our bitchy ways, and balance will be restored. The wonderful balance, where the girl is a bitch and the boy doesn’t understand feelings.
Now here comes the parable where I explain how this thought came to be, I know I touched on it earlier, but there is more, lots more. So I like a boy, and Cameron knows this, he is fine with this, but if he hears giggles and movement coming from my bedroom, he is going to go sit in the garage, and I am going to feel like an ass/whore/bad-friend/skank-face. So me and boy go on a date, I come home completely blitzed. I walk in and Cam is awake. I ask if he is about to go to sleep, he says yes. I then say, in my most smart assed voice, “good, block out all noise for the next few hours.” Cam then proceeds to slam his door, and pout. I open the door, yell at him, and throw change at him until he tells me he loves me. I’m pretty sure other boy thinks I’m crazy, but then again, if drunken Leah’s smart mouth and New York accent hasn’t scared him off, I’m not sure what will. I mean really, I told this guy where he should cut me off, he goes to do so and I come back with a “Fuck you, you’re not my daddy!” and then I grab another free beer (ladies night, FTW.) I really am a hot mess, I have no idea why I have friends, or love interests… This is all a mystery to me.
So this started out as a post I was going to dedicate to Cameron Porter, and in a way I guess it is. You should all add him on Facebook, or if you know him, give him a hug. The boy lives with a crazy bitch, with an alcohol problem. He needs a cuddle and a cookie.
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