Sista sLedge.r

Dear Baloo,

I’m writing this as a blog entry because I’m tired of discussing this with you. And I know you don’t know where to find my blog so you won’t be reading this either.

Get over yourself. You whine and complain that I’m not spontaneous. Yet when I get drunk on a Wednesday night and want to sit and make fun of all the idiots on So You Think You Can Dance with you, you sit there and look annoyed and tell me “to be good.” (Translation: It’s not nice to make fun of idiots who make a fool of themselves on TV.) So, by the end of the night I start ignoring you much in the same way that you are ignoring me. I don’t remember what happened next as I passed out. That’s probably a good thing.

I came back downstairs this morning to give you a proper kiss goodbye. I was annoyed that you were whiny because of your bad case of poison ivy. And I thought I could have been a little more patient with you. That’s why I came back down to give you a kiss. Unfortunately I have a slight problem with ants for some reason, and yes, I sprayed them with Raid. There was no reason for you to question whether the Raid was meant for indoor use. Do you really think I’m that much of an idiot to use outdoor poisons indoors? If you remember one thing about me, remember this. I survived on my own (and most days I would argue much better) before you entered my life. I’ve sprayed Raid in my house before and haven’t managed to kill myself, so I must be doing something right. Maybe when you get off your ass and get a career and stop depending on mommy and daddy to fund your existence, I’d be more apt to listen to you. But since I have a degree from a prestigious school, since I have a house (which I bought on my own), and since I’m the one with a career, let’s just say that when it comes to common sense things, I’m more than a leg up on that stuff than you.

Now, I know the words that I’ve said are harsh. And I know that I’m a bitch who likes to laugh at other people’s misfortunes. So you’re probably sad by all of this. May I suggest you go and cry on the shoulder of your “best friend.” Although you won’t admit it, I’ve told you on more than one occasion that the reason she doesn’t like me is because she wants you. And I in turn have made it very clear to you that I don’t like her because she was cold to me when I met her on New Years. I know you want me to give her a ‘second chance’ but I’ve told you upfront that that won’t be happening. As far as I’m concerned, bitch has made her bed and now she’s gonna have to lie in it. I will not go out of my way to be nice or even cordial to her. She’s going to have to prove to me that she’s a good enough person for me to waste my breath on. And if you don’t like that, I suggest you find solace in her arms. Who knows, maybe the two of you can work it out. You already have so much in common. Why, I believe you even use the same razor for your facial hair.

So that, my dear Baloo, is how I feel. I’m sick of being a superwoman for you and you don’t have to decency to cut me any slack. Smitty emailed me last night. Oh, you don’t know who Smitty is because you like to pretend that I didn’t have lovers before you. Well let me tell you briefly. Smitty is an executive at a major corporation in Detroit. He broke me heart but still manages to keep in touch with me. In the past I’ve ignored his emails because I wanted to respect what we had going. But I’ve decided to reply for the last couple of days. I always thought Smitty was the prefect match. Even though he did attend a state school, he actually completed his masters, has lived abroad, and like I said, is an executive. But don’t be jealous. Apart from his successes, he tends to be an asshole and even though we’ll probably make plans to meet for a drink, he’ll cancel. He’s undependable like that.

Oh yes, but back to the point. I’m going to leave you alone for a while. Like I said, I don’t plan on sharing this with you. In fact, I don’t plan on telling you any of this. There’s no point. Instead I plan to just leave you alone for a while. Let you wallow in the misery of your poison ivy. I do plan on making plans for the weekend and having a grand time without you. You’re welcome to have some more of my time when you come to your senses.

Love,

Kiki

Labels: baloo, relationship