11:28 am - March 24, 2007
C-C-C-Cowardly Isn't Always A Lion.
SIGH.
I am a bad friend. Next week is Cat's birthday, so to celebrate, she and her hubby are driving to Jackpot for the night to gamble and sin. Now, I've nothing against sinning, I try to do it hourly. But I don't want to drive the couple hours to a shabby casino to spend valuable drinking money on... nothing. Which is gambling to me. Don't get me wrong, I've done it, spent my drachmas in Vegas, Reno, Tahoe and the aforementioned Jackpot. All I get is a sense of accomplishment when I switch from slot machine to soda machine and actually get something for my quarters.
(You may now mentally picture me jumping up and down when I received my diet pepsi from the machine after putting in the coins.)
So I don't want to go. I'd rather take her out for a hideously expensive dinner and buckets of frosty beverages until we can't stand up anymore. That, I can get behind. (wince) But it's going to be hard to get her to talk to me again soon, because your little chicken-heart (er, me) has avoided the situation and not outright said "I'm not going."
Very shabby, I know. I told her last week that Kyle had to work (true) and that we wouldn't make it. I told her that I'm not keen on gambling. And she yelled at me and said lots of "you need to be independant and go places without the man"-type things. The yelling... I don't like to be yelled at. Makes me hunker down like a turtle to hide.
Which brings us back to the Sighing. I'm disappointed with myself for not facing this and saying, I don't want to go, but we'll do something else instead when you want to. My first impulse is usally to be cowardly, but most of the time I pull myself up by the britches to behave like an adult.
I am ashamed of myself.
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