I had this cute little post I was working up in my head about Marina asking me if we were going to make lasagna and if we did, would we need Tara Cota Cheese. That post was thrown aside for a bit ‘o ranting.

In my blog I have a ‘category’ (and that is loosely said because we all know Blogger can’t come up with a way to let us have categories because as Greenthumb puts it, ‘Blogger is a Bitch’) where was I? Oh yeah, ‘category’ called “Why she is my best friend” and I use this ‘category’ to highlight why ‘Cita and Lisa fit into it.

Well today I realize I need a new category. “Why you are stupid ass bitch that needs to knock off the ‘poor pity me’ guilt tripping emails and phone calls” It would be a sub category under ‘stupid people suck’….which is a sub category of ‘NOT best friend’.
(yes, it would be hard to find, but well worth the read)

When Dan and I split up I became friends with ‘big sexy’ because she lived in the same apartment complex as I did and had a daughter that was one week older than Kara.
It was nice having a ‘girlfriend’ again, even if she was a bit on the ‘loopy’ side. I could live with it, I needed adult conversation and someone that didn’t judge me for my past. In fact she was perfect because she validated my behavior by telling me that I had good reason for doing what I did. These are things women need to hear when they do something horribly stupid, even if they know it’s not true.

Big Sexy and I were great friends…until I got a boyfriend.

Yes, she’s one of THOSE friends. The one that would bad mouth my boyfriend in front of me and in front of HIM.
“You’re too good for him. How much money does he make? He really should have called you by now, he’s probably out with someone. I dated a guy JUST like him. I can’t stand Leo’s they are so needy.”
I put up with it through 4 boyfriends. They put up with her because she was my friend and I always stuck up for her.
“She was raised with a lot of money. She has a big heart. She doesn’t realize what she’s saying.”
What she didn’t understand is why after a month or so that I would stop coming around with my boyfriend.
As much as I loved her she was a huge strain on every single relationship I was in. Of course this would lead to, “You totally ignore me now that you have a boyfriend.”

It was last year that she got me into a huge argument while I was at work about our daughters.
She had moved into a new house near the school and she wanted Kara to walk her daughter home one day. I didn’t have a problem with this as long as I knew what day it was going to be so I could come up with other arrangements for the younger ones.
She didn’t tell me what day she had picked and I got a phone call from 2 frantic parents wondering why my daughter didn’t show up for their ride home from school.

I called everyone I knew and she was about the 3rd on my list and she said, “Oh yeah, she walked home with my daughter.”
I was pissed. I couldn’t exactly go into WHY I was so mad because I was sitting next to my boss in the middle of putting together a Hazmat Plan. I told her I would talk to her later, but that wasn’t good enough for her. She wanted to know why I was so mad and WHY my daughter had to now go home. When I told her I was at work and wasn’t going to get into it she called me a ‘bitch’. IN FRONT OF MY DAUGHTER. I hung up the phone and took a second to calm down before I went outside with my Marlboro and lit one up. I huffed it down in three long drags and felt my nerves calming.

When I got home I talked to Kara and she told me everything she had said about me while she was there.
1. I’m a bitch. 2. I use my kids as slaves. 3. My other daughter is liar.

I’m sure there were other things said that she didn’t want to tell me. I had heard enough. I told Kara that she wouldn’t be spending time over there any longer. I then sent an email to this now EX friend detailing the exact reasons why I wouldn’t be having my daughter around her anymore, the number one reason being that YOU DON’T TALK SHIT ABOUT ANOTHER PARENT TO THEIR CHILD. It’s the rules.

The next few months were heaven. I didn’t have to listen to her complain about this or that. Complaining is like air for her. She loves to talk about the downfalls that life has served her. No one’s life is worse than hers. Don’t try to even compare your problems to hers.
I should have said something to her like, “Whoa chill out on the ‘pity me’ talk.” but I never could. I just listened. I sympathized. She has had a lot of bad things happen to her. I feel more sorry for her daughter though. She’s like that flower that manages to not only grow through the snow, but blossom into a beautiful flower.

Somewhere down the road I caved in and let my daughter go hang out with her friend. My daughter came home and told me that big sexy said that my daughter’s teacher was a horrible teacher and she was SO glad her daughter didn’t have her. She said that if SHE where her daughter that she would have pulled her out of the class and gotten her a new teacher.
I responded with, “No Kara, she would have gone to the principle and made this horrible stink because her daughter was getting a bad grade and it MUST be the teacher’s fault and not due to the fact that her daughter had been to school in over a month.”
Regret washed over me as I spilled those words out. Kara didn’t need to hear it. I was doing exactly to Kara what I didn’t want my friend doing to her. I shut up and decided that for now on I just need to stick to my guns and make sure she doesn’t go over there.

It’s impossible. She’s friends with my ‘circle’ of friends and she’s going to be a part of our lives as long as her daughter is in the picture.

Last night Kara leaves me a message saying that she is going to her friend’s house and she will be home later. She also said her room was clean. WHICH ISN’T.
I called her at noon and they were all out shopping. I told her that the appraiser is coming this week and I need Kara to be home no later than 3 pm because she needs to clean her room. I stressed that I needed the money because if I didn’t I was going to have to start pimping my ass on the corner of Stanford Ranch & Hwy 65. She said ‘okay, no problem.’
I should have known then that it was going to be a problem. Being on time isn’t exactly one of her best qualities. Actually it’s not a quality she possesses.

I get a phone call at 2:55 pm saying that she couldn’t drive her home because her car was ‘broke down’. Hold on…I have to roll my eyes….Okay. I would have to come get her.

When Kara got home I asked her about this ‘car trouble’/’migraine’/’black sleep’/’throwing up’ problem she gets everytime she has to pick up her daughter from your house or when ever she has to drop someone’s kid off.

My daughter said, “Oh well, yeah…her car was ‘sputtering’.”
I raised my eyebrow and Kara knew I knew it was a crock of bullshit.
“She said, ‘God Kara, your mom didn’t even ASK me if I could drive you home. SHE DEMANDED IT. I don’t like being bossed around like that.”

*clearing throat* OH HELL NO. THE RULES CLEARLY STATE THAT IF ONE PARENT DROPS THE CHILD OFF, THE OTHER PARENT PICKS HER UP…AND VISA VERSA!
Sometimes it calls for the mother/father of the child to do both the dropping of the child and picking up. She KNEW she wasn’t going to bring my daughter home at 3 pm. WHY, WHY…WHY not just say, “If you want her home at 3 pm sharp, then you’re going to have to pick her up.”
Because she wanted to spend the next three hours BADMOUTHING MY PARENTING SKILLS.

I’m sorry, I’m done. DONE. D.O.N.E. No more. I don’t care if she’s in my friend ‘ring’. I don’t care if her daughter is the friggin’ saint Mary, I DON’T DESERVE TO BAD MOUTHED.

*tapping fingers* I hate stupid parents that want to be ‘the cool parent’ by talking trash about someone else’s parenting skills.

Yes. I have vented. I have really gone off. I know she might read this. BRING IT ON.