Frenemies

Los Angeles, California

Yes, it's come to that, and you must have known it would. I've been on a bent of bitching, complaining, and whining -- in spite of my annual observance of Lent, and my code of doing what Sandra would do. I do try. I really do. Seriously. But sometimes things, and people, get under my skin. This is one of those times.

I'm pretty nice. I know that word gets a bad rap, but it really shouldn't. My goal in dealing with family and friends is to try to do the best I can do. My philosophy is that it is daunting to try to change the world at large, but making a difference in my circle, in my home and with my family, friends, neighbors, and community, is doable. I am polite in the marketplace and on the road. I think I am friendly. And I am tolerant . . . to a point.

One of my fellow Scorpio friends (who is also, incidentally, Sicilian) once told me that her instantaneous response to sever ties, when a situation has become intolerable, is not her favorite trait in herself. Survival instincts rarely are, I think. But I know what she is talking about. I call it the wall. It's that thing that happens in your mind and soul, that thing that, for me, drops down, impenetrably, and says enough. It's that thing that lets me know beyond a shadow of a doubt, with nothing I can do to change this, that I am done.

What causes this chasm to open? Usually a profound breach in the golden rule. Again, I am kind, I am thoughtful, I am polite and friendly. But I'm not inert. I expect that flow to come back at me, more or less. Some flow, anyway. And when people are short-tempered or rude, or worst of all, can't handle their own issues and act out, I am outta there. I do allow people a second, and even a third chance. But once the wall comes down, it is over. Not my favorite trait in myself, but there you have it.

Life is so short, and people are so cranky! I am often astounded by the abundance of lack I encounter all around me. Lack of concern, lack of empathy, lack of manners -- it is hard enough to do business or to be a consumer when encountering these cranky types. But what about coming face-to-face with this in your family and friends? I suppose for all of us it is sometimes a struggle to contain the caustic comment or the remark precipitated by irritation, but shouldn't we at least try?

Some years back I spent a few months screwing up my courage to confront a friend about her odd habit of eating off of my plate. She is an actress who lived in Manhattan when we first became friends. Still, we saw her often as she would fly to LA to work in the TV industry.

She kept her bad habits under wraps during that time, but once she moved to LA, it was open season.The first time I saw her with her uninvited fork in someone else’s food was at a dinner party at our house. She mostly picked at the food on her own plate, and ostensibly had finished eating when she suddenly lunged with her fork toward our friend Christopher, spearing up some pasta from his plate. After that, no one's plate was safe.

At a restaurant brunch gathering, she ordered asparagus. When it was served to her, she picked up a stalk, then wandered down the long table dipping into sauces on other people’s plates. I was reminded of that dramatic scene in The Miracle Worker, when Anne Sullivan first sits at the family dinner table, and experiences Helen blindly snatching handfuls of food from the plates of other family members.

Now, if you've been reading along or at least have read some portion of my fiftyish posts, you might garner this piece of info about me. I don't mind sharing my food. In fact, I like to share and often when out with people we share "small plates", or order one dessert with four forks. But this is a totally different thing. This is much like the high school girlfriend who goes after everyone else's boyfriend. Just because she can. This is serious boundary-crashing.

One night, after about six months of experiencing her eating off of my plate and the plates of others, we were dining at an Italian restaurant together, when, without warning, her hand darted across the table into my plate where she grabbed a large fistful of dressed salad greens from my plate, then, dripping a trail back across the table, she crammed them into her mouth, all the while continuing to talk. I knew right then that I had hit the wall.

It had taken me several months of internal debate to realize that I could either stop eating with her, or else I had to apprise her that she was in violation of my comfort zone. So after much rehearsal, I did just that. It did not go over well. Evidently, for her, having free rein to invade the plates of others was an entitlement that must stand, at all costs. As a result, we parted as friends. Billy boiled the whole thing down to its essence by casually stating that he wondered how long it would take her to realize she had lost a good friend. That made me ask myself whether I was willing to lose a friend over something like this. I wasn't, but, evidently she was.

I would like to think of this as an isolated instance, but I have learned that there is a whole world out there of boundary-crashing for sport. The challenge is to be someone who is generally nice, and kind, thoughtful, polite and friendly, yet still protect your boundaries, and with fortified armaments when necessary. Because some people, and let me not allude to their upbringing, simply won't observe any etiquette with regard to interpersonal relations. And I had a hand print in my salad to prove it.

So, sadly, I have occasionally found myself done. And, like my Sicilian, Scorpio friend, done swiftly and permanently. Even when it is a friendship that I valued or hoped would evolve to fristerhood. For being nice doesn't mean I don't respect myself, nor that I do not expect to be treated with respect. There is a definite line between friendship and frenemies. I don't like to cross it. But given the right circumstances, I can. And will.

So, don't cross me. The temperature is climbing, and we currently live in a world of earthquakes, war, and continued economic upheaval. I'm still worried about the sea turtles at The Kona Village (in the wake of the tsunami disaster there). Yet, even in light of all this, I have trust in my proven ability to make lemonade out of lemons. So if you have lemons, feel free to share. Just don't lob them at me, unless you are prepared for me to permanently disappear as your target. Thank you for reading my blog, so nice of you!