My friend C and I were friends for about four years. We lived in the same town
for a year or so and instantly bonded. We had the same taste in music,
clothes, we were both considered “freaks” at school because of our weird
hairstyles, et cetera et cetera. My family and I moved away from the town to Brisbane,
the land of red-necked backwards-thinking opportunity. About a year after
moving C calls to let me know that she and her mother are moving to Brisbane
as well and she’ll be attending my school! Also, another one of our
friends, B, from the town was moving with her. Naturally, I was stoked and
couldn’t wait to introduce the girls to my new friends and go to the “big
city” places with them. She hit it off with my friends and things were
going great.

You can probably guess by the fact I keep referring to our friendship in the
past tense that things didn’t keep going great. The year we lived apart, C
dropped out of school five months into Year 11 due to a few difficulties she
was having with a teacher (it was the only school in town so she couldn’t
just transfer). Moving to Brisbane she decided to go back to school —
repeating Year 11. I stress that she CHOSE to repeat Year 11. The principal
of Brisbane school said, “Nah, you’re still ahead of most of our Year 11s,
if you wanted you could do Year 12 this year with your friend.” But she
REALLY didn’t want to do Year 12. C also chose to let B live with her,
despite knowing that B had a drug problem (which was the main reason B’s
mother asked if B could move in with C).

After a few months, C was
depressed because B was creating problems at home, she hated being in a
grade younger than me, she hated being older than everyone else and she
didn’t want to go to school anymore. I tried to be supportive, thinking it
was just new school blues, but after almost a year she still wasn’t happy.
She dropped out of school and said I was judging her as a lesser person
because of it and started pushing me away because I was being “snobby.” I
didn’t care about her education, I just wanted her to be happy. I admit I
was a bit short with her when she started complaining, but it had been a
year of the same shit. She didn’t want to fix her problems, she just wanted
to complain about it and I was getting sick of it.

The crunch came when I became pregnant and miscarried. I went from being
terrified of being 17, jobless and pregnant to being devastated that I’d
“murdered” my baby. I logically know my miscarriage wasn’t my fault but
emotionally I couldn’t deal with it. I was upset and ashamed of myself so I
stupidly pushed my boyfriend away, so I couldn’t turn to him for support. I
couldn’t talk to my parents so I thought I would talk to C, thinking she was
my best friend so she’d be there for me like I’d been there for her. Dumb.
We met up and I was there crying and upset about how I lost my baby and how
boyfriend was going to dump me and all that. I know, I was being selfish
and whiny, but I thought I deserved my turn. She just didn’t care. Our
converstion ended up with her saying, “Yeah, but it’s your own fault for
being a whore” and eating a food she knew she was allergic to, just to get
away from me.

I was so angry at her. I thought she was such a cow for expecting me to
help her through her problems but she avoids me when I need her? Also, I am
not a whore for having sex with my boyfriend of two years. I confronted her
and we broke up. It’s now about two years later and I have had no contact
with C at all since our fight. My cousin met up with C at a party a few
weeks ago and C was going on about how I kept avoiding her even though she
was sorry and wanted to be friends again. First I heard of it. My cousin
and my friends are now on my case saying I’m a bitch for not forgiving her
and she really, really misses me. We used to be such good friends and I do
miss the OLD C. But, I don’t know if I could, should or would ever forgive
her for being so insensitive.

So, I need someone objective to tell me — is two years too long to hold a
grudge? Am I a bitch for not forgiving her? Or am I allowed to be pissy at
someone who wouldn’t support me when I needed them the most?

Thanks,
Where’s my shoulder to cry on?

I just have a quick pronunciation question. Recently I was openly mocked by a
close friend of mine because I used the word “patronize” to mean “act
condescendingly” and pronounced the word with a long “a” sound (like in the word
“patron”). Said friend strongly insisted that you’re supposed to use a short a
to mean “act condescendingly” and a long a to mean “help” or “be a patron of.”
My dictionary gives me both pronunciations and does not specify one for each
meaning. Do you know of any official or unofficial rules concerning this? Thank
you very much.

Sincerely,
Next Time I’ll Just Use A Friggin’ Synonym

I’m at the end of my rope. I need some advice very badly, but everyone in my
life is too close to the situation for any degree of objectivity. Please,
please give me some of your logical, level-headed advice.

Back in May, my boyfriend called me at work to tell me that he’d been
offered a transfer across country. He’d be given a generous relocation
package, from what I understood more than enough to get us there plus pay
some bills besides, and he’d have much better job security. Plus, it would
be closer to the part of his field he wants to be in. I hated my job, and
figured it couldn’t hurt to try something new, especially with a modest
windfall to help us out. We’ve been together for three years, living together
for two, and honestly, I knew that if I said no that he’d go without me
anyway. He’s always said that he didn’t force me to come with him, which I
have issues with, but this letter is going to be long already. I didn’t want
to lose this wonderful guy just because I was scared to try something new,
so I quit my job, gave my car to my sister, and started packing. It pissed
off pretty much everyone I know, but they got used to it, and wished me
luck. I’m pretty sure you’ve figured out by now that it didn’t end as
rainbows and kittens as I thought it would.

The money turned out to be way less after taxes. We ran out of cash toward
the end of the trip because not only was the money not enough, but we didn’t
get the money on time because his company’s payroll goofed. We got it, but a
month late. We lived on spare change we put through a Coinstar, and my
graduation money. It was tough, but I was still optimistic about our
finances because he had the great job, and I had my belated graduation gift
money, so I figured we were okay.

Yeah. The innocence of stupidity.
Unbeknownst to my parents, who would have hit the ceiling like Wonka’s glass
elevator if they knew, I gave my boyfriend half of my money, $1,250.00, for
his bills. That apparently wasn’t even the beginning of what he owes, and
he’s still in way in the hole. Gophers look at this hole and say, wow. Still, he had the great job, so I figured it was a
temporary setback. I got more or less current with my own bills using the
rest of the money, and poof there went that.

I slacked off on getting a job
for two and a half months, and I fully admit that was a dumb thing to do. I
was scared of starting over, depressed because I miss home way more than I
thought I would, and I ended up flying home to see my family less than three
months after we got there. This really hurt my boyfriend, who felt I wasn’t
giving the place a chance. He got irritable with me for using money he could
have used towards bills (the last of my grad money), and of course it put
off the job hunt. Mostly, he was upset that I was choosing to go back to my
family for a while and leaving him alone in a city he didn’t know, either.
Not my best move, but it did do me good to see my family again. I’ve never
been far from them, and I’m used to talking to Mom every day (which also
bugs boyfriend. He thinks she’s too clingy. He’s not afraid to say so,
either, which just makes things even more wonderfully tense around here).
So, after the trip I got my shit together, and got a job.

The job, unfortunately, is a temp gig that pays nine whole bucks an hour. I’m
looking for better, but so far, no go. I want to get a second job, but I
left my junker on the other coast, so transportation wouldn’t be free and
easy. I’d have to figure out bus routes and pay for public transit, which is
not guaranteed to get me where I need to go, or rely on boyfriend for rides.
I’m already on his nerves, and when I bring up second job, he gets snippy
with me because he’s already tired of driving me to the temp job, tired of
supporting me (he’s been paying most of rent, food, and utilities minus
phone bill, although my personal bills have been my personal worry). He
needs me to pitch in more money so he can dig himself out of debt, but my
bills have been piling up all this time, too.

Meanwhile, I’ve got some resentment going on toward him. I’ve got reason to
be in the doghouse right now, yes, but if he’s really in debt, he shouldn’t
be buying video games. I’ve told him to cancel the movie channels on our
cable because I’m the only one who watches them anyway, but he’s reluctant.
I’d be fine with it, because I can read recaps of all my shows on TWoP
anyway. I have a feeling Carnivale will be way more entertaining through
Strega-vision anyway, so it really doesn’t bother me. He hasn’t done it. I
see fast food containers appearing regularly in the apartment. Meanwhile,
his car nearly got repossessed. He’s always been a little spendy, but I’m
starting to resent him getting upset with me that he can’t afford to fly
home for Thanksgiving, when he’s been buying chain mail off eBay. I feel
like he’s putting pressure on me to fix his financial mistakes. Like I said,
I know I should have been pitching in all this time, but I did give him over
a grand. It’s not entirely my fault that his car payments are sliding while
he bought an ATV last year, and the Tivo as an impulse buy.

I’m starting to think this was all a mistake. I still do love him. He makes
me laugh, he understands me, and I really want The Future with this man.
We’re only planning on being here for five years or so, until he can swing his
Masters (although, again, how we pay for that is a giant question), and move
back near his family, which is nearer to my family. I’m depressed, stressed
out, and so is he. Sars, what would you do? Do I stick it out? Do I do
penance for my slackitude by giving him a big chunk of my paycheck, or do I
concentrate on my bills, give him the minimum due, and let him deal with his
business until I’m more stable?

Signed,
My Kingdom For A Winning Powerball Ticket

For
the past four years of my life I have been attending an obscenely
competitive public high school where we measure self-worth in SAT scores and
number of AP classes on your transcript. These people get into fistfights
about college admissions and regularly graduate with enough credits to start
college as a junior. When I was a freshman, this drove me absolutely insane,
that my classmate’s parents were already dishing out thousands of dollars
for their thirteen-year-old to sit through a three hour long SAT prep
course. But I dealt with it and stopped associating with people who had
nervous breakdowns because they got ten points short of a 1600 and thus
would be subjected to living under the interstate for the remainder of their
lives. I know that I should stop bitching because I am getting a phenomenal
education at one of the best high schools in the country, but this is the
last. damn. straw.

So, I’m a senior now, which means that aside from the ridiculous amount work
I have to do for regular school, I now also have to work on college
admissions packets, do transcript requests, take and re-take the SATs and
ACTs and the like. Fine. I can deal with that. What I cannot deal with,
however, is the crap I am getting from my teachers, friends and counselors
about the colleges to which I have chosen to apply. Sars, I am not an
overachiever, I am simply a regular run-of-the-mill achiever. I take
difficult classes, I study hard, I work my butt off for my grades and
immerse myself in all kinds of extracurriculars (for my own enjoyment), but
after spending four years in the cutthroat environment that is my high
school, I kind of want to go somewhere a little more laid-back for college.

The schools that I visited are excellent schools, most of them small,
liberal arts colleges with good humanities programs. My counselor, on the
other hand, thinks I am selling myself short and should be applying to more
competitive schools, not to mention that whenever my teachers find out where
I am applying they say “I don’t understand why you aren’t going to try for
[insert large Ivy-League university here].” While my parents are very
supportive of my decision, I can’t really avoid college-related
conversations at school, and let me tell you, convoluted expressions
followed by “why are you going there” are getting rather old.

Any advice on
what I can say to my teachers and friends but especially my counselor? She’s
writing my recommendations so I can’t make her angry, but I don’t know how
many more times I can hear “there’s nothing at that school” before I start
hucking Fiske’s Guides at her face.

Not cut out for this

I’m a 23-year-old female, currently attending university. I recently ventured into the world of online personals. My first date with the first man I met in person, a 28-year-old professional I’ll call M., couldn’t have gone much better: we discovered a shared fondness for literature, art, monkey butlers, and the letter Q. Before it was over, we had already made plans for a second date and he called me several times before it to work out all the details.

If it’s possible, that date went even better. We went for dinner and a movie, and the chemistry was undeniable. M. invited me up to his apartment and ended up asking me to spend the night, making it very clear that he did not intend to sleep with me because we’d only just met, but just wanted cuddle and sleep next to me. I know, I know, that sounds like a played-out line, but I believed (and still believe) his words and actions that night to be very sincere. Still, I jumped him — with his consent, of course — and while the sex wasn’t perfect, it felt special and more importantly, right. When I left in the morning, he made it clear that he’d like to see me again. I was blissfully happy for the next few days, but cautiously so, as I’m well aware that sex does not a relationship make. Still, I found myself thinking about that night a lot and, well, falling for him.

After not hearing from him for several days, I gave him a call and asked casually if he’d like to do something; we made plans to visit the art gallery. I noticed he was a little less enthusiastic on the phone than in previous conversations, and less affectionate in person than on our previous date, but I was determined not to read too much into it…until we arrived back at his apartment at 8:30 PM and he said, “I’m not going to invite you up because I have to get up at 5:30 tomorrow morning [he works 60+ hours/week], and I know if I do invite you up, I won’t get any sleep.” I was a bit taken aback, but again, I tried not to read too much into it, and didn’t question it because I didn’t want him to think I don’t take him or his job seriously. Plus, the fact that he said he knew he wouldn’t get any sleep had to indicate he knew what we’d be doing, right? I kissed him goodnight and he told me he’d talk to me later.

Of course, later never came. Again, after several days of not hearing from him, even after his days off work, I left another casual message asking if he’d like to get together. I never heard back from him. After one more unreturned phone call, I resigned myself to the realization it was over.

Maybe it’s the fact that my last relationship before M., with a man significantly younger than him, proceeded in almost exactly the same way: we went on several good dates (yes, there was sex relatively early on), and then I never heard from him again. I guess I thought there was no way it could happen again. It did, and I’m heartbroken. I keep analyzing my conversations with M. to figure out what I could have said or did to make his feelings about me change. I really don’t think it’s a case of “he got what he wanted, and now he’s out”; I believe that we had a connection and that he felt it too.

Because he never gave me an explanation (not even a white lie, which I think I would welcome at this point) as to why he never called, I never got closure on what was probably the most promising relationship I’ve ever been in. My response was to write a short letter stating that I was hurt, disappointed, and confused that he hadn’t called, but also that I feel he is a very special person and that our night together is something I won’t soon forget. It’s been about three weeks since he would have received it now, and he hasn’t responded, though I did sent it without that expectation.

Still, even sending that letter hasn’t helped as much as I had hoped it would. I still have the urge to call him because I feel like maybe there’s something I could say or do to convince him that he should give it another shot. Part of the reason I feel this is that I think he might have been anxious or embarrassed about his sexual performance, even though I made it clear at the time that I was enjoying myself and that the minor techinical difficulties didn’t faze me. I feel like he may be holding back for some reason other than not liking me, but of course, that’s a pretty big assumption, and I don’t particularly want to submit myself to the possibility of even greater rejection. Furthermore, if it’s that he’s scared of commitment, he didn’t act it; he talked on our first date about wanting to be married in the near future, and the fact that I didn’t immediately run away should have told him that I’m not scared of it either.

So I guess what I want to know is, is it worth making any further attempt to contact him, or would that be verging on obsessive? I feel like I’ve made it clear that I’m interested and have given him several opportunities to contact me. I want to let it go, I know that’s probably the “right” thing to do, but I also feel he should be accountable for his actions. I didn’t have any expectations for him as far as a relationship went (I would even love to just be his friend, at this point), I just thought we could be honest with one another. I think M. and I could have had something pretty great together and it hurts knowing there’s someone out there I feel could make happy if only he’d let me. In some ways, I think it hurts more than if I’d had the chance to explore the potential of a longer relationship with him. In any case, it just hurts.

Thanks for any insight you can offer on what I realize is, unfortunately, a pretty common scenario in the dating world.

Signed,
I Get That You’re “Just Not That Into Me,” But Would It Kill You To Call Me And Tell Me That?