Things Rachael and I argue about

I've had my doggie, Stewie, since he was six weeks old. He's been through four moves with me, and he's my best friend. Rachael comes into my life for one month and says this gem:

Rachael: Does it upset you that Stewie loves me more than you?

Several incidents occurred before I started this journal, which I'd like to relate now. Please keep in mind this is from memory, so it probably doesn't have the letter-for-letter accuracy that my other entries have.

By trade, I work for a media botique, who's purpose is to take client's material, and make it presentable (usually internet related). In any event, Rachael had been job searching in the area for a few months. She also came down to go to recruiting events, to no avail. So then I stepped in to help.

First, I looked over her resume. It took a lot of rewording. She had qualifications so it wasn't hard to write up a good resume. The problem was that her resume had a lot of empty filler; almost two pages of hobbies and inconsequential interests...and it looked like it was typed up in notepad. So I rewrote and reformatted the resume. Then I did some investigation to find some headhunter services that specialized in her field. I found one that seemed perfect, and helped her set up an appointment. Within the day, we had found her a job.

I must admit, I was a bit proud of myself. After several months of searching, she hadn't found anything, then I stepped in and in a few hours she found a job. I mean, who wouldn't be proud?

I spent my lunch break from work with Rachael. She was obviously happy, and said, "I never knew how easy it could be to find a job. I've never found a job this fast."

I showered Rachael with compliments. She was having her moment, and I was excited. So I told her how awesome she was, and things like "of course it’s easy to get a job when you’re as cool as you."

Of course I was excited too. Not only had Rachael found a job, but I had proven my trade skills. I relate the feeling I had to that of a firefighter carrying a child to the safe arms of an applauding crowd (obviously those victories are on a different level completely but you can imagine how pleased I was). So I admit, I was feeling pretty good about myself, and said something like, "This is what happens when we work together!"

She did not like that one bit. She responded with, "You don't think I could have done this on my own?"

I quickly retracted, saying, "That's not what I meant..."

To which she said, "I could have done with without you. I didn't need your help."

What thanks did she give? She asked me to do her sister's resume too.

This is another event that happened before I started writing this journal, but want to express.

After finding a job, and having the notice that she could start in two weeks, Rachale packed her stuff and moved to DC. The day after Rachael moved to DC, she went to the first day of her job. It was the same day I was going to a job interview. So after I pointed her in the right direction in the morning, I started getting ready for my interview; prepping resumes, taking a shower, grooming, et cetera. A little after noon, I headed out for my interview. The interview was in DC, so I had to leave an hour early to be punctual. She called me as I was heading into DC.

"Hey, they're letting me out early," she said. "Want to go to lunch?"

"I can't," I said sadly. "I'm on the way to my interview."

There was silence on the line, so I offered a suggestion.

"Come back to the apartment, and when I get home from the interview, we can go eat. Or you can fix something for yourself in the mean time. Either way." (exact quote)

More silence. Half a minute later, she responded. "I don't have a key to the apartment."

Uh oh. She's right. I didn't know they were letting her out early, or I would have left the door unlocked. It was my turn to be silent, as I tried to think up a solution. I was just barely on track to making it to the interview. I weighed my options and decided that the job can wait; I need to take care of a friend. "No problem," I assured. "I'll go back and open the door." I turned my car around and headed back to my apartment.

A few minutes after we hung up, I got a text message from her that read:

"Thanks for being rude and yelling at me." (exact quote)

Okay, I have a weird fear of being in the same room as microwave oven when it's on. Seriously. I know it's weird, but that's just something about me. It has to do with the radiation. Have you ever been in a hospital, and just looking at the needles and biohazard equipment makes you a bit queezy? It's the same thing, only with radiation instead of germs. Similarly, Rachael has panic attacks. Like any other normal human being, I always treat her gingerly when she has one. Then one day I made the mistake of telling her about my fear of radiation.

On a side note, when Rachael makes a mistake, she refuses to take part in any of the blame. By this, she raises her passive-aggressivness and lays on the sarcasm in attempt to guilt me. For instance:

me: I have radiophobia
rachael: what?
me: the abnormal fear of ionized radiation. I've gotten better, but before I used to freak out when the microwave was on and I was in the same room
rachael: whatever
me: psh, I'm going to start saying "whatever" when you have panic attacks (this is where she turns on that passive-agressive sarcasm thing I was talking about)
rachael: i thought you were pulling my leg. but you already know about my panic attacks. so if you want to do that ok

rachael: what are you doing? (*caught you in the act look*)
me: looking at art on ebay
rachael: why?
me: huh?
rachael: why are you looking at art on ebay
me: just....because...?
rachael: is someone buying you some art? (*accusingly*)
me: no...?
rachael: are you buying art for someone?
me: no...?
rachael: then why are you looking at art on ebay?

regarding Myspace...

Rachael: I noticed you filled out Abby's survey and not mine

Me: do you know where they sell Now&Laters?
Rachael: Why?
Me: ....so I can eat them?
Rachael: are you sure?
Me: uh...yeah
Rachael: is it for a girl?

I was chatting with Rachael from work and told her I wanted to drink that night. When I got home, I was tired, and decided I didn't have the energy to drink. But since I said I wanted to drink, and decided not to drink, Rachael called me a liar the rest of the night.

July 11th

Rachael's computer was messing up, so being a computer guy in the computer industry with a computer related major, she asked me to help her fix her computer. About ten minutes after I get her computer working...

Rachael: What happened to the icons on my desktop?
Me: You mean the AOL trial icons?
Rachael: Yeah
Me: I deleted them
Rachael: Did I tell you you could do that?
Me: Dude, we have Comcast high speed internet
Rachael: That's not the point

Last night, July 11th...

Rachael: I'm not scared of you
Me: Okay...
Rachael: Does that intimidate you?
Me: Huh?
Rachael: Does it intimidate you that i'm not scared of you?
Me: ...

Uh...no, but bringing that up is kinda scary

Rachael came into my room late last night, to put some cortisone cream on.

Rachael: I thought you were going to bed
me: yeah in a little
Rachael: Whatcha doing?
me: editing some Flash files
Rachael: what else are you doing
me: reading my email
Rachael: What were you doing before that
me: playing some Warcraft
Rachael: someone's talking to you on AIM
me: Joey's telling me something about Warcraft
Rachael: I think Kari's talking too
me: yeah, she asked me about Transformers.
Rachael: you're talking to her now?
me: nope, that was about an hour ago
Rachael: why are you sitting so close to the computer?

Rachael: I need to go to eckerd and wachovia
me: sweeeeet
Rachael: is that doable for you?
me: Ohhhhhh you want me to go. sure
Rachael: oh nevermind
me: ...okey dokes
Rachael: i just thought you had to go to eckerd as well
me: i do
Rachael: yeah so why not do it together???
me: we can, but you said never mind

July 18th. Rachael constantly tries her best to make me feel like an evil person. Okay here's the story. When I was in highschool, I went to Spain, and there was a tour. One stop was an amphitheater, where we admired the architecture. Then the tour guide took us in and sat us around the concrete coliseum. It ended up being a bull fight. Since going, I have forever sworn off bullfighting as a "sport", and I decided to tell Rachael how much I hated the activity of bullfighting.

Me: Bullfighting can hardly be considered a sport. It's more of a grotesque theater for killing the bull. The bull stands no chance. At the beginning, the matadors-in-training stab the bull in the back until it's back muscles are weak. Then armored horses come and jab it a few times. Then the matador comes in, and if he's in trouble, a whole army of people are there to flag the bull down. There is no contest, no sport.
Rachael: You went to a bullfight?
Me: If you can call it a "fight," yes.
Rachael: You actually paid to get in?
Me: Yeah
Rachael: Then you're as bad as the people who support dog fighting.

Several things you need to know about this one. 1) Ama made me a scarf for my birthday. 2) Rachael and I keep having arguments on gift giving. She seems to be in the school of thought where a more expensive present means more love.

Rachael: *looking through a catalog* Hey look at this *points to an expensive gizmo*
Me: That's pretty hot!
Rachael: I'm going to get you this for Christmas
Me: No no, that's so expensive, don't get me that for Christmas. Don't feel like you have to get me anything for Christmas
*Few seconds where she gets all silent and shakes her head*
Me: What's wrong?
Rachael: I want to get you that, but apparently it's not good enough for you

Me: I really don't want anything for Christmas. I don't measure friendship based on the expensiveness of a present
Rachael: Do you let other friends give you presents?
Me: I guess?
Rachael: Then why do you accept it from them, but you won't accept a present from me?
Me: Because it's not a big deal to me. It's just a present, and I'd rather you save money
Rachael: Well I'm sorry if I don't know how to make a scarf *storms off*

Okay, so LC (her dog) always gets up on the counters and sniffs for food, and then Rachael and I have to spank her. One day I cooked some lemon pepper chicken for Rachael and I. I came into my room with food and started to eat. Then Rachael said "where is LC?" and I said "She's out in the living room" and rachael gives me this you're-stupid look and then she says "So you left the dog out there with the hot stove so she can burn herself?"

I say let the damm dog figure it out. That would teach it real quick why it's bad to get up on the counters. I guarantee she'd never go for the counter anymore. In fact, if I had thought of it before, I think I would have turned the stoves on, on PURPOSE, to teach the dog never to get on the counters. What's better: one half-second burn, or a life time of spankings because she doesn't know getting on the counter is bad?

Who else thinks that is horrible parenting?

I dug up this gem of a conversation. It happened when we were still living in the 1 bedroom apartment back in May-ish.

Rachael (11:05:43 PM): i think it would be best if i start sleeping on the couch
me (11:04:06 PM): w3rd
Rachael (11:09:39 PM): i suppose you're happy i'm sleeping on the couch?
me (11:10:00 PM): no, but I bet you think I'm happy that you're sleeping on the couch
Rachael (11:10:26 PM): i dont know what you think i cant read your mind remember?!
me (11:11:13 PM): yeah I know but you always think the worst
Rachael (11:11:30 PM): i'm not thinking the worst. why do you always have to put me in that category?
me (11:11:38 PM): you think that I'm happy that you're sleeping on the couch
Rachael (11:11:53 PM): i am not, i'm asking you
me (11:11:56 PM): why would you even think that? that's a silly thing to even think
Rachael (11:12:20 PM): because i dont want to sleep on the fucking couch!
me (11:12:31 PM): then why the heck would you sleep out there?

Last night (July 18th), Rachael saw a girl she didn't like online. Rachael then logged off. Then she came into my room ...

Rachael: why are you on AIM? I'm not there

One of the absolute most frustrating things about Rachael, is she refuses to believe that someone cares for her. Because of this, we constantly (and I do me constantly) have arguments that go like this:

-Rachael says I don't care about her.
-I tell her I do.
-She denies it, telling me what I'm not doing that would show her I care for her.

She then tries to convince me that I don't like her by presenting everything I don't do that would reassure her that I like her. An example of this would be:

Rachael: It's so sad, I do nothing but love you, but you don't care about me
Wally: Of course I care about you
Rachael: if you cared about me then you wouldn't be reading Maxim. You'd be talking to me
Wally: ...
Rachael: Wow, you don't even have to say anything, I know you don't care about me.

That's just one example. Pick anything I do besides breathing, and whatever it is I'm doing, it means I don't care about her. This includes work. If I'm doing work and not chatting with her on AIM, it means I'm ignoring her.

Finally, after maybe...two dozen arguments like this, I finally get fed up that she's trying to convince me of something that's not true, so I say "Okay fine, you convinced me, I don't care about you," to which she responds, "You said it not me."

Oh, this reminds me. If we're sitting at a restuaunt, and I look out the window for a few seconds she'll say in a very pissed off tone "I'm over here." No joke, she really does that. A lot.

So, Rachael and I once again had an argument, where she says she cares for me, and I feel like she's treating me like shit. The arguments go like this: 1) She says she cares for me 2) I let her know that I don't feel like she cares for me when she disrespects me 3) She refutes my claim, asking for an example.

So we had one of those arguments today. So I cited an insult Rachael told earlier in the day, where she saw a bee and said, "I wish that bee would sting your dick and make it bigger." I use it to help explain how she disrespects me. (In another note, I'm completely confident in my manhood, so I have no problem telling you she said that :-p )

Rachael: What do I do that's offensive?
Me: For instance, earlier, you said the thing about the bee
Rachael: That was a joke, but some how you think I'm evil for it
Me: You don't see how it may be offensive?
Rachael: Everyone else thinks I'm funny, but you don't get it. People love my sense of humor.
Me: By that logic, you feel like you can go anywhere any everyone will say you have a great sense of humor.
Rachael: Well, if you see an orange, and you call it a banana, that would be pretty fucking rediculous.

First off, ouch. Second off, how egotistical can you be to assume your sense of humor is the touchstone of humor? Like, she actually feels her humor is perfect. The worst part is she truly truly feels this way.

Me: I'm going to wake up around 3 AM, do my daily tasks, then pass out right after work
Rachael: But then you wouldn't see me
Me: That's the only way I can make my schedule work
Rachael: But we can't see each other, why would you want that?

This is citing from memory so it's not 100% accurate, but it's as close to accurate as I can remember; but this conversation did in fact happen. It was after we moved to the new apartment and just before we started playing warcraft for the night. One night Rachael said "If I ever wanted to get back at you, know how I'd do it?"
I respond "no" because that's like, a really weird thing to talk about.
She said something to the effect of "I won't do it now, but this is what I'd do. I'd call the FBI and report you for child porn."
"What?" I asked in super disbelief.
"And you know how I'd do it?
"No," I said, not even wanting to imagine something that gross.
"I'd download it onto your computer when you weren't around. There's no way you would be able to defend yourself."

Not only is that a supreme abuse of the law, but that's the most disgusting thing I could imagine. Who the fuck would ever download that kind of thing? Even worse, who'd think of doing that as revenge?

The other night, Rachael and I woke up from a late nap. It was about 9:30 PM on a weekend. We were both very groggy, dazed, and hungry. roggy, I suggested we go to a dinner. She agreed. Clouds hung over the city as if it just finished raining, but the streets were dry. The clouds contributed to our general state of tiredness and slow-to-wake sluggishness. We didn't say much because we were both tired.

We went to the Silver Diner in Rockville. We were still very quiet, and my eyes were just finally opening all the way. We picked out what we wanted. I ordered some slop that I always order because it looks good in the picture on the menu. I forgot what she ordered. While waiting for dinner, my friend called. His nickname is "Juice", which is short for Justin. He just finished reading a manuscript I wrote. He was calling me to give me his professional advice on how to improve it.

Juice noticed somethinig about my writing, which he needed to tell me about before I submitted this manuscript. Sometimes when I write, I copy and paste tidbits that I've written down before and want to reuse in the sense of a repeating motif or establishment of an ironic paragraph. Occasionally I forget to alter the part I've pasted, which means I repeat myself. He noticed this in my manuscript, and told me how he's seen this before in my writing, and it was kind of funny because he was able to pick it out so clearly and call me on it. It's the sort of thing that only a friend notices. So we both had a good laugh. When my dinner - which looked oh-so-good on the menu, but looks like slop now - came, I let Juice know and we hung up. That's when I notice Rachael giving me a look that said I just kicked her puppy.

My first reaction was that she was upset that I had answered a phone call during dinner. That would be a logical, albeit overly sensitive, thing to get upset about, right? But no that's not why she was upset at all. She was upset because my friend made me laugh.

You see, she was upset because she felt she should be the one making me laugh. And of course that means that if someone else makes melaugh, then she's threatened, which means she gets upset with me. Her eyes were so angry. She wouldn't look at me, and she wouldn't respond to things I said. She gave me the silent treatment

You've read this correctly. She was upset because my friend made me laugh, and she hadn't.

This was way too much stress to have during a late night snack, so I asked for the check. Not wanting to be outdone, and to further prove that she was upset, she got up and left the resturaunt.

I was reading an article in Maxim today about a journalist in the middle east who was taken as a hostage at gunpoint, and sold to others who wanted to hold him for random. The article detailed the hostage taking, and explained the philosophy that his captures had. It also explained the situation in the Middle East and what its like to be a journalist while dodging bullets.

But of course Rachael sees me reading the Maxim and got angry.

As you know, Maxim deals with "guy" topics, and it has surprising little to do with females. Sure, Maxim has the requisite dime-a-dozen spreads with the same girl posing in underwear, but if you subscribe to Maxim, you're not getting it for the girls; remember, this isn't the stone age...the internet exists these days. Guys don't subscribe to magazines to look at the girls. Guys get Maxim for the interviews...for the articles on the next super car...for the "how to break out of prison" section, for the action-journalism article that's near the back. Rachael doesn't see that. All she sees is a magazine that is cover-to-cover in bikini's, and she treats me as if I'm staring at pictures of hardcore lesbian pornography.

Seriously though, I usually don't even know who's on the cover. The girl on the front usually only serves as a way to differentiate last month's magazine from this month's, which is really helpful since they're piled on my bathroom floor.

This happens frequently when driving down the highway. Sometimes I need to shift lanes. When there isn't an immediate opening, I turn my blinker on. Then sometimes the car next time me backs up a little to allow room for me to come in. I shift over and wave to the person behind me. Waving to the other driver is totally instinctual for me, like saying "thanks" to someone for holding the door for me. Rachael gets on me every time I do that. "You don't need to do that, you know. They had to let you in."

Well of course they had to let me in, especially if I just barge my way into the lane. But that's not the kind of person I am, and Rachael can't seem to understand the desire to be the person who says thank you to another motorist.

An even bigger mistake to make around Rachael is letting a car go before you at a four way stop. If myself and another car arrive at a four way stop at the same time, usually I wave the other person on. Rachael gets furious over this and tells me "Why'd you let them go? You have the right to go now."

In a related mater, I'm a huge fan of efficiency. If I'm on foot and walking across the street, and I can pause for half a second to let a car go by, then I do it. It's much better than me saving half a second, and having a car have to completely halt it's momentum, then burn gas to accelerate, which causes traffic as other cars now have to slow down to accommodate the driver infront of thm. But no, if I want to pause for half a second, Rachael get's angry, insisting we have the right of way.

So what does this all say about Rachael's personality? Think of it this way: Rachael's the kind of person who'll send her food back at a restaurant five times if the food doesn't taste the way the picture looks. This is because she feels that she deserves the chef's cooking style to match what she's imagining. Yeah yeah, give me all your arguments about how they're there to satisfy you, but it is impossible to please someone with an over saturated sense of entitlement. You can always rate the quality of a person by how they treat people they don't know. And sending food back, or butting into a lane without signaling, or saving half a second at the expense of someone else are not good markers for a quality personality.

...not that I needed any more proof.