Tuesday, April 19, 2005

Judgment Day

"So I was fighting with my roommate this weekend."

"Why's that?" I asked as I flipped through the channels on TV.

"Well," his voice said through the earpiece of my cell phone, "I got my checks in the mail today, and my roommate gave them to me. But they were just in a box, so he said 'Why doesn't your bank FedEx your checks to you?' So I told him that they'd always sent them this way-"

"Me, too," I interrupted as I paused on the Real World/Road Rules Challenge on MTV.

"Yeah, so I told him I always got them that way, and he said 'The bank should FedEx them to you, because anybody could steal a box like that.' And I said 'Well, that's just the way my bank sends them to me.' Then he says 'Well, maybe your bank just doesn't want to spend the money to FedEx them to you because you're Hispanic.'"

"He said that?"I couldn't believe someone would say that to their roommate.

He laughed. "Yes."

"Out loud? To your face?"

"Yes, he did." He chuckled. "I know he didn't mean for it to come out like it did. He wasn't being mean, that's just the way he is."

"Wow. If I were you, I would've said something to him."

"Yeah, well, as the day went on, I got madder and madder, and the more I thought of it, the angrier I got. And when he left for Washington, DC, I was just thrilled to see him go."

"I still think you should've said something," I said.

"Wait. Listen. So he goes to DC, and my friend comes over with his girlfriend. And they want to stay the night. So I say 'you can take the couch, or you can take my roommate's bed.' Hoping, of course, that they'd take his bed because I know what they're gonna do. And, they took his bed. And I was pretty sure something went on. Then my friend calls me an hour after they leave and says 'You might want to wash your roommate's sheets. Because I cornholed Stephanie on his bed; She wanted some rough anal sex.'" He stopped to laugh out loud.

I, on the other end of line, was disgusted. "Why would you tell me this?" I said, the repulsion evident in my voice.

His laughter simmered. "Uh," he said, unsure, "because that's what happened. That's what he said."

"Yeah, but it's none of my business. And it's disgusting."

"Well, I thought it was funny."

"Yeah," I replied, "well, that makes one of us."

"Anyway," he continued, ignoring my nausea, "it was perfect. Because when I get mad at him, I like it to be so that he doesn't know I'm getting even with him."

I gave him only silence and let him continue.

"So, like, tomorrow, when he gets back and goes to bed in those sheets, I'm gonna know that my friend had sex in them and they weren't washed."

He laughed again, perhaps marveling at his own genius revenge. But I was too busy to laugh. I was busy judging him.

In the time it took him to tell me that story, the time it took him to explain his revenge techniques, I had decided he didn't play fair. I took that stupid story and made it into a tell-tale sign that he was nothing if not passive-aggressive, and that if he should ever get angry with me, he won't come to me and say it. He'll seek vindictive retaliation. And immediately, he was disqualified as a potential boyfriend.

Although I'm not proud of it, I do this all the time: I judge the type of flower a man brings to me. The width and length of his fingers. His height. How often he does or does not call.

Much like the age-old question of "Which came first, the chicken or the egg," I find myself wondering if I'm judging these men because I already don't like them and am looking for proof to validate my feelings, or if it's the judging that makes me not like them.

It is in this respect that I fear I will forever remain a single woman. I know that my ex was full of flaws, not the least of which being that he didn't want to get married, but I loved him nonetheless, so I'm sure that when the right guy comes along these things will be idiosyncrasies, not flaws. But will I judge a good guy to death before he gets the chance to even be the right guy?


Anonymous said...

People won't always remember what you tell them, but they'll always remember how you make them feel.

Anonymous said...

ha ha sis,
you have no sense of humor, the whole anal sex in his roommates bed is redonculous. i would impliment that sort of thing with one of my roommates if the need were present, but that's just how we solve things here lol, love ya

Anonymous said...

"Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute, and it seems like an hour. Sit with a pretty girl for an hour and it seems like a minute...That's relativity." -- Einstein

Passiveness, entranced in hypnotic eyes
Flawless features by soft, gold light
I watched her move, such graceful elegance
A candle's fire slowly dancing...

Motionless, my body lay paralyzed
Heart fluttering, oh sweet delight
Her rhythmic words spoken in eloquence
Harmonious prose so enticing...

Lioness, unsuspecting my surprise
Timed right--roses, six pink, six white
A crimson hue consumed her countenance
Elated she sat marveling...

What felt like four minutes passed I surmised
For Albert's theory to be right
Relativity based on relevance--
Twelve score minutes had been ticking...

Together we walked, dressed in moonlight guise
To share a blue, pacific night--
Lore inspiring mutual reverence
Consumed us before departing...

Ensuring her safety behind moist eyes
I felt she had answered my plight
My angel had come bearing resemblance
To the author you'd been praising...

As she left my heart reached a compromise
To reveal itself without fright
Breaking the walls I killed off resistance
Now she's gone, my heart lamenting...

Anonymous said...

I read your blog a lot, I always enjoy your writing, you're an excellent writer.

The one thing that comes through, though, is how burdened you are with the weight of your expectations! And, believe me when I say I speak from personal experience, expectations are the enemy. They only set you up for disappointment when they're not met one way or the other.

I'm a guy and usually in my relationships I've been the one freaking out (quietly or not) when my expectations are not met. And invariably this behavior on my part has not helped matters one bit.

So please believe me when I say I'm not pointing this out from a place of "I'm better than you." I'm not. It's just at age 40 I'm a bit further down this path, and I can report from bitter experience that expectations do NOT work.

So I'm working on treating my desires as preferences, NOT needs, and getting rid of expectations to the extent possible. Paradoxically, I'm finding the more I treat my needs as mere desires and preferences, and no big deal if they're not met, the more I am actually getting them met in my relationships, whether they're friendships or romantic involvements.

I hope this helps, even if only a little bit. Because you're obviously an incredible woman and lady at your young age, and you will get all you want and desire, I am sure of it. The path to getting there sooner is to let go of those expectations, and just BE. But that's the real trick, isn't it?

Take care,