29 September 2000 ~ The best of my evil ability...

Saw Meg tonight. She's working part-time at Java's, baking desserts.

She watched me make myself a sandwich for dinner: a turkey-brie panino. She watched intently.

"You wouldn't have lasted five minutes working with US," she stated simply, nodding at my sandwich.

["US," meaning the old-school Java Crew...]

"How come!?" I hissed defensively.

"You're so slow... You're doing that all wrong, anyway..."

(There is no freaking way to make a sandwich the wrong way as long as you've got the right amounts of the right ingredients on it... Yeah, I was taking my time, but it was MY dinner...)

I love Meg; I always have. I have more respect for that woman than almost any other woman I've ever known, with allowance for my mother. I've always kind of thought of her as a big sister. And I suppose if I was ever to fall in love with a woman, it would have to be Meg. But one of the things I've always respected about her is her cruelty, which always seems to masquerade as strength.

Her words stung me. I know Meg likes me. I know if I ever needed her, all I'd have to do is call. I know she respects me. I suspect our feelings for each other might be very, very similar, although neither of us could ever come out and say something like, "you know, you mean a LOT to me..." I know she does care a great deal about me; she invited me to live with her for a few months to help both of us get back on our feet financially; she called Java's and asked to talk to me specifically, even though she just had a simple question. And although I know she's a bitch, I've thus far been immune to much of her backstabbing. Still, she's indiscriminate about hurting people, whether she cares about them or not.

"You wouldn't have lasted five minutes with US."

If anyone else had said it, I would have lashed out: "Oh, you're so much better than me?" Instead, I mumbled, "Hey, it's MY dinner... I can fuck it up however I want to..."

"You wouldn't have lasted--"

She knows exactly where to hit. I don't suppose she meant to make me feel as shitty as she did; she just had something to say and said it, as she does. And she's Meg, and she likes to put people down -- and she's good at it, and I've never held it against her... But damn, how one small sentence can cut into you...

"--US."

She made me feel so small. And yet, I'm not angry with her or defensive, but maybe just a little more determined to prove myself to her. I wonder if I've ever made my little brothers feel that way...

And still, I love her. Still, I want to be like her. Still, even though I'm a freaking big girl now, even though I don't give a shit what most people think of me, I crave her approval...

I'm sad tonight. I would like a hug and a glass of wine.

~Helena*

"...i'm going to use this to the best of my evil ability..." --direct quote from an old email from Meg.