Out Of My Hands...

I'm having what I like to call a "fat week." What's that, you ask? It's a time when I'm simply not feeling confident, fun or approachable, I feel fat. This has nothing to do with "the curse" or anything else, it's just how I feel. I use the term fat in reference to myself all the time, but it's meant to be funny, takes the power away from the word. But every 6 months or so, I have a week where I do indeed feel fat and no one can tell me different. When I'm going through fat week, it's undetectable to those who do not know me and those who do, know the drill.

What happens during fat week is one of two things: I become reclusive, wear fat clothes and am just all around unpretty or I'm just a quiet, fat blob that shoves her face with whatever taste tickles her palette at the time (usually McDonald's and coke). When blogging, I either do not write at all or write angry, ego shredding compositions about the world, life and certain individuals. Seeing as how it's only Tuesday, I can't call which side of the fence I'm sitting on but last night a conversation took place that could not be ignored.

I called my friend just to say hello when he asked me what I Myspaced him about (note: I have A.D.D. and when you ask me about something that was more than 24 hours before, chances are it's been long forgotten). Apparently, I said something about him playing games and called him a douche (note: I'm REALLY trying to work the word out of my system, promise promise. It's taking away from my range). I don't know why it pissed me off (yes I do, and I'll tell you later), but the conversation went as so:

JustTrina: Hey, hon, how are ya?

JP: Fine, what the hell were you babbling about on Myspace? (note: yes, it was that fast and "babbling" is my word, so he's disrespecting me with my own speech)

JT: Huh? (pause, meant to seem like I was thinking) Oh! My comment? I said "well played" cuz your brother called me and said you told him to call me.

JP: Okay, did you call him back?

JT: Nope.

JP: Why not?

JT: Cuz he didn't call cuz he wanted to, he called cuz you, 5 years his minor told him to. Had he said, "hey, heard you were in town, just givin' you a shout," I probably would've returned the call but to call just cuz you said so? I'm all set.

JP: Why? You're a jerk.

JT: Call me what you will, it is what it is.

**** normal conversation ensues, we talked about my antics at the radio station, how tired I was and my plans to sleep once I got home****

JP: Do you know that if (JP's brother) marries (girlfriend) and they have kids, it's your fault?

JT: (silence) Yea OK.

JP: I'm serious, if ____ gets married to that chick and they have kids I'm gonna be SO MAD at you.

JT: WHAT!?! Let me tell you something, JP, I have no interest in your brother. We dated, it didn't work and we're barely friends now. If he wants to get married and make Italian Haitian oreo babies, he's more than welcome to it. I could not be less concerned with whom or what he's sticking his d*ck in. And I'm pissed off cuz when it comes to matters of the heart, I don't play. He's happy, let him be happy. I've moved on, he's moved on and you're gonna be an uncle, deal with it.

***END SCENE***

There were a few more choice words, but that would defeat today's blog point. Was the anger from my fat week? Probably, but in normal circumstances, I would have reacted the same. I got so angry because who the kid's brother chooses to be with is whom he chooses to be with. Getting married and having kids has nothing to do with me and the statement just set me off. People give me the power to do a lot of things, but the heart wants what it wants. Bottom line, I hated that my name was tossed into the equation.

So I took a survey of 5 males (cuz more often than not, they perspectives make sense) to ensure that my reaction was correct. One called me back at an UNGODLY hour (college kids forget that in the real world, people work) but his reaction was the same as mine. Another agreed with the college boy. One didn't care either way and said it shouldn't even have been addressed. One laughed and told me to go to bed and one told me never to speak to the kid again, but that's a little extreme. Last night I think he understood the upset and we can probably get past this. I just hate being given responsibility for things that are out of my hands.