So...

So.. I have two friends* who lie to me on a regular basis.

Up until this week, I hadn't really thought about it much. One of them I have always known they lie and one of them I had suspected. But what do you do in a situation like that? Almost for the sake of entertainment, I have kept them around, kept hearing their stories and, as they got more and more "out there," I have started to think, how stupid do they think I am?

And that's where it's starting to hit the fan. It's not so much about them and their stories, it's about me and how I am perceived. Why do they lie to me? After much discussion and thought, there are two reasons I have come up with:

1. Because my life is "thrilling" and "exciting" they want to be like me, maybe "one up" me.
B. They think I'm really stupid and I will believe just about anything.

Now, for "Stroke Debi's Ego Day" I went with #1. But the more I think of it, it's probably the second. Josh also mentioned that maybe they sense me lying to them and that's why they do it; although I don't think I've ever lied to one of them so that goes right out the window.

So.. why do people lie? Where does it get them? I'm not talking the, "yes you look good in that dress" lie (Josh!), I mean the stories about your life, your experiences and relationships. The who and what you are. They both have made up these fake versions of themselves; these wilder, more interesting versions to .. what? Compete with me? Impress me? Shock me? Am I really that important in their lives that they have the need for my acceptance and approval? Or is it that they have so low self-esteem that telling me lies makes them feel better about themselves?

Am I the sort of person that people feel they need to lie to? Is it for me or for them? And what is it about me that makes people lie?

Whatever it is, I don't like that.

*I use the term "friends" very loosely here.

So.. Josh and my birthdays are three days apart. People ask, "what are you doing for your birthdays?" like we should have some big, elaborate plans. Josh and I are not the "big and elaborate plan" types. We are "fly by the seat of our pants" types.. or lately more like the "I'm tired, let's just go to bed" types. In fact tonight, sitting on the couch at 11pm I said "let's just say we stayed up late partying but just go to bed instead." Afterall, 11pm was getting really late.

Since when did I get so old? What happened to the up til 4am girl, the one who could go with 3 hours of sleep night after night without it catching up to her?

She got a dog, that's what.

Chloe wakes up at 6am every day. Including weekends. Chloe doesn't understand that I don't have to work on Saturday or Sunday and that I like to sleep in til what my mom would say is an "obscene" hour. I would say "ungodly" but I don't know if my mom actually says "ungodly" now that I really think about it. I guess it's not Chloe's fault, she is very good about holding it until I let her go outside in the morning, which I am very happy about (other times of the day.. we are still working on that). But, sometimes I wish she could just let herself out, although I guess that defeats the whole purpose of crating, right?

Last night, which was Josh's birthday btw, I was going to bed at 9pm. I had work in the morning, afterall, and in my defense I was considering reading a chapter of Harry Potter (not the new book, I'm doing some "catch up" and I'm on Book 2) but to be honest I had pretty much decided I was going to skip the book and just hit the pillow. Josh saw me walking to my bedroom and said "you going to bed already?" He gave me a hard time. He was up playing WoW and seemed to think going to bed at 9pm was crazy. But playing online with strangers for hours isn't. Right.

So anyway, since it was his birthday, I decided to stay up. It may have been a mistake though, because I was accused (by two people) of being fiery. We pretty much sat at our respective computers and did our own thing, saying something to each other now and then, me playing music and getting angry when iTunes didn't listen when I wanted to change songs, him playing WoW which has some very strange sound effects. At one point I said, "If I died, would you even notice?" I can't remember what he said at the moment, but he ignored me and kept playing his game, to which I said, "Ezaaaackly."

Maybe that was part of why I was so fiery.

So.. Josh and I have been living together for almost two months now. We knew each other for quite a while before, he has seen me at my worst, I figured it wouldn't be too bad. And, it's not. Living with him is nice in a lot of ways, like at today at 3:30 am when I started freaking out (over nothing) and then took a deep breath and realized Josh would hear me if I screamed and I felt better, even though all that means is the Bad Guy would have to kill two people instead of just one.

We have come to learn a lot of things about us are different, things I hadn't really thought about or realized before. I would never call myself a "neat freak," I just don't like clutter. Josh is the opposite. Josh could leave dishes in the sink for days, if not longer. I am constantly emptying the sink, washing dishes and putthing them away. I don't like the groceries left out; I pick up Chloe's toys and make her bed; I recently made Josh move all the furniture in the office because I was tired of the mess and wanted to organize.

On the way to work earlier this week, we discussed our differences here, why we are the way we are. I didn't realize it, but he said me cleaning all the time made him feel like I had something to hang over his head. I had no idea that's how it was being translated. I clean because I want to, because it makes me more comfortable. (It was funny when Josh and I watched a show on people who horde items, I immediately was up and doing dishes, without realizing it. I don't like messes, even on tv.) I would never hold it over his head, if I didn't want to pick up his things, I wouldn't and eventually he would do it himself.

After this discussion I decided to relax on the cleaning. We went shopping for groceries yesterday, I put the cold stuff away and left out the rest. There were dishes in the sink for a day or so, and I left them there. We were sitting on the couch, watching the night's episode of Big Brother, when the subject came up. I was telling him that see, I can change. And he was telling me that he thought I was leaving it for him to do. *sigh*

I told him that wasn't the case. I didn't want to seem like a freak and jump up and clean right then, but I wanted to. But, I will do it tonight.

So.. friendship. Relationships are two-way streets, they take work and effort. But, at what point does it go from a healthy amount of working at your relationship to trying to keep something together that shouldn't be? At what point are you trying too hard to maintain something that should just come to a natural end?

Is it the simple fact that you want to be friends that makes it worth the effort? Or is there more to it? How many "weird" encounters does it take before you realize there is no point in getting together again? How many awkward silences, frustrated responses?

I don't really want an answer. I just want to send this cosmic question out into the void. So good night, dear void.

I don't know that I want to give up but I also don't like all the effort being put into something that feels like wasting.

So.. I am from a large family, eight kids, always a dog and at least two cats. I wouldn't say that he is my favorite, but my youngest brother and I have always had a bond that I never had with my other siblings. My sisters and I are very close, we have a lot in common and I would quickly call them "friends." And my other brothers are great, helpful, sweet and I love them just as much. But there is something about Ben.

It may be because when he was a baby I would wake up at night to take care of him. Anyone who knew the nine-year-old me knows that she did not wake up easily, but for Ben I always did. I even took him to show-and-tell at school.

Whatever the reason, I love and appreciate the bond I have with Ben. Even though it has been years since I lived at home, I still think about the way our relationship was at the time. Toast, "the drill." Ben hasn't seen my new house yet, but I think he'll like my office. The main items on the wall, directly above my computer, where I always look the most, are the cards and drawings he made for me when I lived out-of-state.

His cards were home-made, always cute and often featuring hedgehogs. One of my favorites references one of our favorite shows, "The Amazing Race," with a detour of leave or stay. There is also one with a TV set tuned to "All Debi and Ben All The Time!" I also have the Valentine he made me one year, the only one I received that year (I don't think that was while I was in WA, though).

When I moved, I didn't think much about how me leaving would affect those I love. I was ready for something new, and I was looking forward to spending the first real time with my oldest sister, as an adult. Me leaving was good in a lot of ways, I learned a lot and grew a lot (and got very good at self-control re: weight and food and working out). But, whenever I got the cards or notes from Ben, it broke my heart a little. I was glad for them, but at the same time I would ache a little inside. I've kept them, I think to always remember that feeling, to remember my little Ben.

So.. less than forty-eight hours ago I got a call from my father. And in less than seventy-two hours, I will be meeting my new step-mom. It's weird.

I still don't know what to think and I think my brain is still refusing to process. It will be an interesting Thanksgiving, to say the least.