Tuesday, September 14, 2004
I know how Joey feels...
I know this is going to sound all girly and everything, but Rob can do the most amazing thing ever (well, he can do many amazing things, but I’m speaking of one in particular…). He can do a “Loon call”, so it sounds like there’s an actual loon calling. And he knows The Cremation of Sam McGee, by Robert Service, one of the best poems ever! He’s so cool. But, as you’ll see, there is a dark undercurrent here that has me concerned.
The NoodleDog and I went to Rob and Cooter’s supposed puppy graduation the other day. Cooter’s young (only four and a half months), but he did pretty well for a little guy. He didn’t quite make the “sit-stay” command, so he didn’t pass, but he can go back to the classes next time around and try again. He’s pretty sharp, so I think if Rob had time to work with him more on the commands, he’d pass no problem. Lord knows the NoodleDog wouldn’t have passed – he’s pretty distracted most of the time, and although he knows what “stay” means, he probably wouldn’t do it unless there was something in it for him or I really meant it when I told him.
Anyway, the classes Cooter was taking were given by a friend of Rob’s. Rob has a lot of friends. Have I mentioned that before? Rob seems to come from this exceedingly large, tight-knit group of close friends who all seem to know what’s going on with one another, and regularly get together to do things. I’m sure this is probably “normal”, but not having such a group myself, it’s a little intimidating to be thrown in to this sort of mix so quickly. As I find out more and more about each of the friends and their interrelations and how long they’ve all known one another, I feel more and more… I guess maybe nervous about ensuring I don’t offend them by ramming my foot into my mouth at inappropriate times. I can be… socially awkward occasionally, I guess. Rob says that it’s all OK, but he has no idea. No, no, of course not, there’s NO pressure at all trying to fit in with such a tight group, especially since they’re all very important to him.
The saving grace is that the people in the group are about the nicest people you’d ever want to meet. I haven’t met one person I even think I’d ever not like. However, in a way, it’s like having a guest spot on Friends, knowing that you’re the addition to the core cast for that episode rather than being a star of the show. (Speaking of which, I hope Joey does alright on his own little show now that all the other friends have gone away and he has to create a new group dynamic with, well, not much at this point, but let’s give him a chance, ok?)
Rob’s statement, when I told him that, of the friends I have met so far (yes, there are more to go), there were none that I didn’t like, was to the effect that: the people I wouldn’t have liked seem to have opted themselves out of the group and disappeared over the years they have been together.
Now, you wouldn’t think there was anything overtly panic-causing in that statement, but for some reason, it struck deep terror to the root of my soul. In fact, I started to hyper-ventilate, and could only think “what if I get ‘weeded’?” I said to him, I sez “Baby, your friends haven’t said anything… say, negative? About me? Yet?”
He laughed. And then he said the most terrible thing ever.
Rob “We have an audit board coming up this weekend for you.”
Me [gulp] “A what? Huh?”
Rob “A hearing. You know.”
Me “Can I retain counsel?”
Rob “Counsel will be provided”
Me “What if I want really good representation?”
Rob “You’ll get your say…”
Me “Because I’d hire Jackie.”
Rob “Jackie from Seinfeld?”
Me “Yeah. That Jackie. But for some reason, I wanted to say ‘Jackie Chan’.”
Rob “Hee. That would be good.”
Me “Yeah. I’ll call him up. “Jackie, you have to come to town to defend me”, and he’d get it all wrong, and beat everyone up with chairs and lamps and rugs and stuff.”
Rob “There’s no hearing, you know.”
Me “There isn’t? I was kind of looking forward to it after all.”
Rob “Yeah, if we turf you, you just get a pink slip.”
Me [Gasp! In abject horror.]
Rob “You’ll come home one afternoon, and there it’ll be, taped to your screen door.”
Me [hyper-ventilating again] “That’s not (wheeze) at all funny, Sweetie, (wheeze) stop…at my expense…(wheeze)…”
Rob “Hee hee hee! A pink slip! Ha!”
Me “You suck.”
But basically, there is that level of pressure associated with fitting in with The Group Belonging To Rob. They’re all very cool in very different ways. They’ve all been very welcoming, so far, but I worry (because it is in my nature and my genetics to worry – ask The Mac. Ask him about The Grumpaw’s negative influence over both our genetics and environment/upbringing), and in worrying, I probably create more problems than are realistically possible in the first place.
MY friends are not at all like his. I have a few good friends and a bunch of people I know well enough to go out for a drink with, but not to really hang out with them on a regular basis. I have one friend from high school I will always be friends with, who is married to a really great guy and has a one-year old daughter (turning one next weekend! Happy Birthday Ayla Rose!). I have another friend from high school I don’t really talk to, but if he called me up and needed something, I’d help out no questions asked, everything else on hold. Luckily, he does very well for himself and probably wouldn’t ever need my help.
I have a friend from when I was five, and in Grade One in Elementary school. Her name is Heather, and although we did lose touch for about fifteen years first when she moved away in Grade Three (it totally broke my heart to have my best friend leave, especially since I then had to make new friends with people who were already paired/grouped up by then), and after she came back to Canada in Junior High, she went to a different school. We’re good friends now, though, and I’d do anything for her, too. I think I’m proudest of her – she’s a speech therapist now and works with children. She’s a very cool person.
I have a newer friend, Rose, who is Very Cool in the strictest sense of the word. Dresses cool, talks cool, acts cool, like the new kid at school who just moved here, and is so cool everyone wants to be her friend, but everyone is a little scared to talk to her. She has a dog, and when I got the NoodleDog, she and I would go for walks on Sunday mornings at the dog park with our dogs, drinking coffees, talking about men and life and family and work and everything there is to talk about.
I count my cousin, Scott, among my friends. He’s family, but he’s more of a friend than most family members. And as with all of my true friends, I’d do anything for him, no matter what.
But they’re all very separate, and I don’t think I’ve ever put them all in the same place at the same time. So it’s a very different structure from this extensive friend network where they all know each other and do things together all the time. If I screw up with one friend, the others don’t know about it.
So, to all of you potential friends out there (because I’m pretty sure Rob’s given out this site address to some of you…), really, if I say something horribly stupid, please just forget it happened.
The NoodleDog and I went to Rob and Cooter’s supposed puppy graduation the other day. Cooter’s young (only four and a half months), but he did pretty well for a little guy. He didn’t quite make the “sit-stay” command, so he didn’t pass, but he can go back to the classes next time around and try again. He’s pretty sharp, so I think if Rob had time to work with him more on the commands, he’d pass no problem. Lord knows the NoodleDog wouldn’t have passed – he’s pretty distracted most of the time, and although he knows what “stay” means, he probably wouldn’t do it unless there was something in it for him or I really meant it when I told him.
Anyway, the classes Cooter was taking were given by a friend of Rob’s. Rob has a lot of friends. Have I mentioned that before? Rob seems to come from this exceedingly large, tight-knit group of close friends who all seem to know what’s going on with one another, and regularly get together to do things. I’m sure this is probably “normal”, but not having such a group myself, it’s a little intimidating to be thrown in to this sort of mix so quickly. As I find out more and more about each of the friends and their interrelations and how long they’ve all known one another, I feel more and more… I guess maybe nervous about ensuring I don’t offend them by ramming my foot into my mouth at inappropriate times. I can be… socially awkward occasionally, I guess. Rob says that it’s all OK, but he has no idea. No, no, of course not, there’s NO pressure at all trying to fit in with such a tight group, especially since they’re all very important to him.
The saving grace is that the people in the group are about the nicest people you’d ever want to meet. I haven’t met one person I even think I’d ever not like. However, in a way, it’s like having a guest spot on Friends, knowing that you’re the addition to the core cast for that episode rather than being a star of the show. (Speaking of which, I hope Joey does alright on his own little show now that all the other friends have gone away and he has to create a new group dynamic with, well, not much at this point, but let’s give him a chance, ok?)
Rob’s statement, when I told him that, of the friends I have met so far (yes, there are more to go), there were none that I didn’t like, was to the effect that: the people I wouldn’t have liked seem to have opted themselves out of the group and disappeared over the years they have been together.
Now, you wouldn’t think there was anything overtly panic-causing in that statement, but for some reason, it struck deep terror to the root of my soul. In fact, I started to hyper-ventilate, and could only think “what if I get ‘weeded’?” I said to him, I sez “Baby, your friends haven’t said anything… say, negative? About me? Yet?”
He laughed. And then he said the most terrible thing ever.
Rob “We have an audit board coming up this weekend for you.”
Me [gulp] “A what? Huh?”
Rob “A hearing. You know.”
Me “Can I retain counsel?”
Rob “Counsel will be provided”
Me “What if I want really good representation?”
Rob “You’ll get your say…”
Me “Because I’d hire Jackie.”
Rob “Jackie from Seinfeld?”
Me “Yeah. That Jackie. But for some reason, I wanted to say ‘Jackie Chan’.”
Rob “Hee. That would be good.”
Me “Yeah. I’ll call him up. “Jackie, you have to come to town to defend me”, and he’d get it all wrong, and beat everyone up with chairs and lamps and rugs and stuff.”
Rob “There’s no hearing, you know.”
Me “There isn’t? I was kind of looking forward to it after all.”
Rob “Yeah, if we turf you, you just get a pink slip.”
Me [Gasp! In abject horror.]
Rob “You’ll come home one afternoon, and there it’ll be, taped to your screen door.”
Me [hyper-ventilating again] “That’s not (wheeze) at all funny, Sweetie, (wheeze) stop…at my expense…(wheeze)…”
Rob “Hee hee hee! A pink slip! Ha!”
Me “You suck.”
But basically, there is that level of pressure associated with fitting in with The Group Belonging To Rob. They’re all very cool in very different ways. They’ve all been very welcoming, so far, but I worry (because it is in my nature and my genetics to worry – ask The Mac. Ask him about The Grumpaw’s negative influence over both our genetics and environment/upbringing), and in worrying, I probably create more problems than are realistically possible in the first place.
MY friends are not at all like his. I have a few good friends and a bunch of people I know well enough to go out for a drink with, but not to really hang out with them on a regular basis. I have one friend from high school I will always be friends with, who is married to a really great guy and has a one-year old daughter (turning one next weekend! Happy Birthday Ayla Rose!). I have another friend from high school I don’t really talk to, but if he called me up and needed something, I’d help out no questions asked, everything else on hold. Luckily, he does very well for himself and probably wouldn’t ever need my help.
I have a friend from when I was five, and in Grade One in Elementary school. Her name is Heather, and although we did lose touch for about fifteen years first when she moved away in Grade Three (it totally broke my heart to have my best friend leave, especially since I then had to make new friends with people who were already paired/grouped up by then), and after she came back to Canada in Junior High, she went to a different school. We’re good friends now, though, and I’d do anything for her, too. I think I’m proudest of her – she’s a speech therapist now and works with children. She’s a very cool person.
I have a newer friend, Rose, who is Very Cool in the strictest sense of the word. Dresses cool, talks cool, acts cool, like the new kid at school who just moved here, and is so cool everyone wants to be her friend, but everyone is a little scared to talk to her. She has a dog, and when I got the NoodleDog, she and I would go for walks on Sunday mornings at the dog park with our dogs, drinking coffees, talking about men and life and family and work and everything there is to talk about.
I count my cousin, Scott, among my friends. He’s family, but he’s more of a friend than most family members. And as with all of my true friends, I’d do anything for him, no matter what.
But they’re all very separate, and I don’t think I’ve ever put them all in the same place at the same time. So it’s a very different structure from this extensive friend network where they all know each other and do things together all the time. If I screw up with one friend, the others don’t know about it.
So, to all of you potential friends out there (because I’m pretty sure Rob’s given out this site address to some of you…), really, if I say something horribly stupid, please just forget it happened.
