Not On Our Side

I spent last weekend with two of my college girlfriends. I picked Lyndsey up from the airport after work and we met up in Galveston and started chatting in the kitchen. An hour and a half later, I passed out on the floor because I was starving and had no energy. They picked me up and hauled me off to the closest restaurant and poured a Bud Light and some crab dip down my throat. I was as good as new.

Just kidding about the passing out. Not kidding about any of the other stuff.

Besides the TGI Friday’s style waiter and the fly in my beer, we had a great evening. We headed back to the house to chat some more. Hours and hours of talking. That’s what we do. Of course Kelly fell asleep a few times mid conversation. I don’t know how she does it. She looks so peaceful and fast asleep but she randomly wakes up to tell us important things like how sleepy she is or how much she doesn’t like the word “panties” in certain contexts. Minimal alcohol was consumed, she’s really that random.

We went to sleep in one of the beautiful Bella Rose suites and woke up the next morning around 10. We went to breakfast where we talked some more. Then we went to the beach and talked some more. We discussed the fact that we were thrilled to be able to sit around together and speak our random thoughts and observations without judgement.

Lyndsey and Kelly are single chicks. I’d love to say that I’m announcing that so that all of the wonderful men reading this could be intrigued and ask me for their phone numbers so that they can pursue them and court them and woo them. But seeing as the only men that read this are either related to me or forced to read this by their wives (shoutout Mike!), I don’t think that’ll happen. But back to the topc at hand, more than any other item, the thing we discussed the most were boy issues. When these came up, I was usually on the listening end of it. They weren’t very interested in my stories about how I’ll ask Stephen to fold towels while he’s watching Stephen Colbert and he’ll stand in front of the television with his mouth open holding the towel in mid fold for 30 minutes. Apparently my problems are dumb, old lady problems.

They have no idea.

So we discussed boys. We talked about certain shady boys in their lives. Boys that profess their feelings but end up having girlfriends. Boys that apparently don’t know that cell phones were originally intended for calling people, and that texting should not be the only way you contact someone. (For the record, I think that a man who only texts is weak. I think it’s wimpy and shady and it’s ruining our society. And yes, I told the girls this. I’m not talking crap behind their backs. I talk crap in front of their backs, that’s what friends do.) We had a few discussions about “this is the text he sent, what does that mean?” It was exhausting. My heart went out for my friends. They are such awesome girls, they don’t deserve wimpy boys.

I ended my weekend being extremely thankful I didn’t have to deal with that. I never have to wonder if Stephen really likes me or what he meant by his text. I never have to wonder if he’s about to break up with me or if I should break up with him. The only text interpretation I have to do is decode a word that his T9 messed up. The only time I have to wonder if he still likes me is after I make a random, inventive dinner and make him eat it.

On Monday, as I was still coming off my high from my wonderful girl’s weekend, I was flipping through the mail. Real Simple, Kroger’s coupons, Sam’s Card renewal, and wait… what’s this? Something from Nationwide? We pay our bill online, what could the be sending me that would require them to say “Important Document” on the envelope. I opened it and the burden of rejected instantly fell upon me.

 

Can you see it? Look at the BOLD. “Based on our latest review, we have made the decision to not renew your policy, effective at the end of your policy term.” Regardless of what Nationwide may say on their commercials, they are no longer on our side. They are dropping us. We are too risky for them. Too much drama, I suppose. So it’s over, just like that. Not via text, as I’m sure they feared we’d interpret it incorrectly. They brought rejection to us via USPS on a silver platter… but without the silver platter.