“You look really nice! I love your costume!” I said, already climbing up the stairs.
So, it wasn’t the most sincere compliment, but I did mean it to be nice. She looked good, ready to party, ready for a good night. I can’t say I looked good – I dressed for the theme of Mardi Gras with a lot of glitter, feathers, and all-round fabulousness. It’s nice to heat the:
“You too!” As I continue the climb.
Buuuuu, not so nice.
“How nice, the returned compliment” I growl to myself. (Honestly, it was a growl – low, yet intense and a tad aggressive.
“Ha, and she calls me a bitch” I hear, a few seconds later.
Woah. Woah woah woah woah woah. Woah! WOAH!
I have never called her… that word.
Sure, I don’t like her but 1) I don’ say that word – except in quotation – see above.
2) I don’t talk about people I don’t like with people who know that person. How does she know I don’t like her?
3) I do not think she is a b***h. Yeah, I don’t like her but I have never known her well enough to call her one of those.
SO – I now feel justified in sayingneh should not say that I say she’s a b***h. Oy.
Buut – an here’s the killer – she could very well be justified in saying I’m the bitch.
You know when you learn a word and you hear t everywhere? Apparently when doing hallucinogens you see weird things (that are not the result of those hallucinogens) everywhere. I figure it’s like that. I think she thinks I’m mean – so I think t of myself.
I have approximately six weeks to fix that, before I move out. And my goodness, am I glad to be moving out.