the dread pirate recently asked my philosophy on blogging. i responded that i don't like people who blog as though it were their journal. the whole and then we went to the wolf parade show and OMG that piano player was so hott!!! y'know?! and then max totally dumped me then and there and made out with tiffany and i was so like DUDE! business. but while this is a bit of an overshare by my standards, since we all have a teddy, the following does not entirely break my own rule.
last week, the teddy was in my town and we did lunch. this week i was in the teddy's town and we did a movie. we haven't really been friendOs since the holiday apocalypse (and yes, the holiday apocalypse was so bad it warranted a move from friends to friendOs in an effort to salvage ourselves), so there was some awkward.
i'm a plan-driven wallflowery english-head who likes having a handful of dear people who have people and appreciate absurdity and awkwardness and kitties and create things. the teddy is a charismatic charmer who doesn't make plans and keeps in contact only with acquaintances who have apartments in cities with good concerts. our paths crossed some years ago and we became great friends. for several reasons, the greatness didn't last.
if my personality can be condensed as "the love child of elvis and jackie" it is also condensed, in part, as partner, libby, lindear, kj, croftie, bombshell, maggot, etc. we are, in part, the people we love and i have always believed you have to hold on to those people, even if they kind of suck sometimes. because we all kind of suck sometimes. and because you love them. partner is the best example. we've been through some horrid hell of awkward, hurtful crap together. but we saw titanic. we could never let go.
but, to carry the titanic metaphor to its inevitable end, rose did let go (though our sixteen-year-old hearts cursed her for it). and much as i'm fascinated by the personality and exploits of teddys in general (and please don't underestimate the spectacle of so much squandered potential- heartbreaking to be sure, but riveting nonetheless) and much as i will, no doubt, literarily exploit the plotlines that have arisen from the teddy, sometimes you simply must let people go.
however, as a literary person, the perfect conclusion is needed. let's ignore the lunch and the movie. there was nothing there to even work with. and let's ignore the fact that despite this, the teddy will probably call again some day and there may be other lame-o lunches and movies in the future. really, the friend(O)ship has died. and those lunch and movie scenarios do not grant it an appropriately sad, absurd, stupid end.
so let's say the era ended some weeks ago, when the teddy called only to say that he was eating what he mistakenly believed to be my six-month-old mango mellon sunrise yoplait yogurt that he had found in the fridge. this was our appropriate demise.
sad because the fact this might possibly be my six-month-old yogurt was the only excuse upon which a conversation could be initiated. absurd because the fact that this might possibly be my six-month-old yogurt did not deter the teddy from eating it. and stupid that the teddy was so ignorant of my strawberry-banana allegiance as to not know that yogurts of the mango mellony persuasion would never infiltrate my grocery cart, much less my fridge.
thus, the teddy: oline, you'll never guess what i'm eating your yogurt that mango mellon stuff you left behind at christmas y'know i just had to call because doesn't that just totally kill you?!