No, We Cannot be Friends.

I have too long of a memory for my own good sometimes.  However, there are people that we may have been friends with at some point and time, that we are just no longer meant to be friendly with.

For example.

There is this girl.  We went to church camp together one year.  I had been the year before.  I knew kids that were coming back from other areas.  It was a smallish thing, there were only about 7 kids that went from our “camp.”

We went to another state, and worked on houses for the homeless.

I have many skills that I wouldn’t have if it weren’t for this camp.  I know how to take shingles off of a roof.  I can cut plywood with a table saw.  I can  paint like no ones business.  I can hang, tape, mud, sand and prep drywall.  They attempted to teach me to mow, but I failed and almost cut my foot off.  I was banned from the lawnmower after that, and too this day, I still am.  Although, more by choice than anything else.

Now, the first time I went to this camp, I was still a “good” girl.  I was still a “good girl” the second time that I went to camp, but I had found my new “cool” friends, and was more interested in listening to Depeche Mode, Ministry, and The Cure, coloring my hair black, smoking, drinking coffee, and other such teenage debauchery to pay much attention to the “churchy” part of church camp.

I was ready to do some work, hang out, and meet new people.

Many youth groups, and various camps came from all over the country to work in this city, and work on these homes.  It was really a cool experience.  It was the first time that I had really hung out with anyone who wasn’t from Iowa.  So when I could have passed on the whole thing for the sake of wearing black, smoking and drinking coffee, I still wanted to go to meet people, so I went.

The girl who went to camp with me was not a “joiner.”  She was kind of boring, and was very shy.  I knew this, but figured once we got there,  I would introduce her to the other kids, and she’d be fine.  Wouldn’t invade my space so much, etc.

I didn’t expect her to get pissed off at me.

We were only gone for a week.  The third day that we were there, she was starting to get irritated because I didn’t stay with her the entire time we were there.  I had agreed to paint with her in the morning, but in the afternoon, I was going to go to a different house and work on something different.  She was mad I wasn’t going to stay and paint.

I hate painting.  Still do.  My kitchen desperately needs painted right now and has for a while.  I have taken to closing my eyes while I cook so that I don’t look at the walls.  (It’s not that bad, but I am really sick of the colors.  Note to everyone:  Where it seems cool to paint your ceiling a color other than white, it is really stupid to paint it cranberry (or any other dark color), and even stupider to do it yourself, and if you ever want to get rid of it, you will put it off (for six or more years) because the thought of sitting at the top of a ladder for hours on end just to prime it makes you sick to your stomach.)

Anyway, we were painting.  The organization that puts this project together relies heavily on donation.  Labor donations, material donations, and money donations.  So the paint we were using was oil based, because that is what they had.  I was getting ready to head off to the other house, and was cleaning my paint brush.  With paint thinner.  The girl decides for whatever reason to clean her brush too, although she is still going to be painting, and “being funny” flicked her paint brush at my face.

Full of paint thinner.

Into my eyes.

On a construction site.

It was bad news.  I had to go to two different houses before I found running water to flush my eyes out.  The directors of our “camp” didn’t want to take any chances, and took me to the hospital to have my eyes looked at.  I had to have them flushed with some other stuff, and have my eyes dilated and checked.  I was done for the next two days.  (Only because my eyes are overly sensitive to being dilated, and always overreact.)

I didn’t talk to her ever again.

Now, I am a grown up.  I am completely over the whole ruining camp thing.  I was probably being a bit of a brat, and may have milked it a little bit, but if we haven’t talked for twenty-four years unless we were really close friends, I probably don’t care about  being friends with you.

So where I get a friend request on Facebook from this girl, all of these years later, I am probably not going to accept.  The fact that she never even apologized, is probably the reason why.

End of rant.

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2 Comments on “No, We Cannot be Friends.”

  1. Jen says:

    Wow. Paint thinner to the eyes. That’s stabby. I wouldn’t accept the friend request either. Oh… duly noted on the ceiling paint.

  2. libbylogic says:

    Maybe she had a brain injury? Or is just an asshole…


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