Moving forward, high school is dead.

So I suck at posting lately, but in my defense I've had so much going on at work that I've barely had time to come up for air. Moving forward, (this is one of those classic lines you fine integrated into your 24 year old lexicon that you couldn't have paid your 18 year old mouth to say) I am going to try to be better at posting and not let other things affect the amount of time I dedicate to said blog.

That being said, and I'm going to hell if she ever finds this blog, but last night I went to dinner with one of my high school friends. This friend I grabbed food with, was one of my best friends from high school that I literally used to be inseparable from and I've known since I was in 8th grade. Now whether you have a 60 year old perspective while reading this blog or a 16 year old, everyone knows that one of the basic tenets of being a human is that people change. That is the best way to explain the dinner dynamic I had to endure last night.

My friend from high school, let's call her Red, has been been mad at me for the past year or so because I "haven't dedicated enough of my time to our friendship." She's one of those classic needy friends, everyone has them, that takes every little move you make as a personal accost to her humanity and can't really understand that you are busy living your life and drinking beer in your basement as a 16 year old doesn't hold any sort of precedent in your life anymore.

Regardless, she took the time to send me a really sweet card for my birthday and in the card was like, "I just want to wish you a happy birthday and I would love to take you out to dinner or drinks for your birthday sometime, let me know when you are available." As nice as the gesture was, she didn't come to my birthday party so I kinda thought it was just one of those reaching out sort of things people do without any follow through.

But sure enough, come Monday, I sign onto gchat and she IMs me saying, "Hey have you gotten my card yet, would love to take you to dinner if you can?" Since she was really trying to reach out I felt bad pulling away anymore than I already had so I agreed to go to dinner last night.

Even though this was supposed to be my "birthday dinner," she insisted on me picking the place and telling me how poor she was. Due to these disclosures, I tried to pick a local, cheap spot that I knew had specials on Tuesdays.

She called me to let me know that she had gotten to dinner 45 minutes early and since the bar was more in my neighborhood I offered to have her come to my house while I finished getting ready. She refused and little did I know until I showed up at the bar that instead of coming to my house a mere four blocks away, she sat in her car.

When we went into the restaurant, there was a half hour wait. While we waited it was butt-clench central. It couldn't be more apparent that we had just drifted apart, through no fault of either one of us, we just weren't the same people anymore. There was nothing left for us to connect upon and we had grown and changed from the 16 year olds, excited to have our licenses, to 24 year olds who had nothing to talk about.

We spent the next hour and a half at dinner, re-hashing high school drama that I could care less about before going our separate ways. Finally, when the bill came, after she had ordered the majority of the check, she asked if we wanted to split it. In my head, I'm thinking, okay you've managed to harass me into a dinner that I didn't want to attend and into paying for food that I didn't want to consume with you, but please, can we split the bill! Either way, I ended up accepting my debit card fate and throwing it down.

Moving forward, it just goes to show you that no matter how many tears you've spilled in sweaty garages over emo talks while guzzling Mike's Hard Lemonades as a teen, there comes a day when there's just nothing left to talk about.

No one's getting out alive,
heels