I was meaning to blog about the challenges of eating (the Darla way) as soon as I opened my computer but something distracted me as I logged in to Friendster.
My mind went to a silent gasp when I saw the number under "Who's Viewed Me?". 97 times since 3/1/2008. Don't get me wrong, I am self-absorbed as any person in the same block and enjoy the attention. It wasn't the number of views that got me distracted, it was the faces behind the number. Okay, not really faces. Lest I hurt the people I love and adore. It was only A FACE. Just one person who got me distracted and opened up emotions that are still raw and painful. Seeing her face made me want to obliterate her. Seriously.
I started pep talking myself. No need to go to a corner and rock back and forth while my blood boils. It's not right to hate that bovine bitch. Even if until now, months after, I can still feel the knife at my back. Even if she bragged to her subordinates that she has no weakness BUT her greatest accomplishment in the Corporation was having "removed a manager". Oh wow! What a feat indeed. That would cause a hullabaloo in a résumé. It's all water under the bridge, bitch.
There's only one problem: hi, I'm Darla and even if I have love wedged somewhere in my name, I can hate. Exceedingly. Hate.
I figured a good dose of walking and shoe hunting would do the trick. Ayala was just 2 blocks away. That should clear my head.
So I got primped and glossed. I'd never know who I could come across so I gotta be ready. But even if I didn't meet anyone familiar I was with an arm candy and I sure want to be able to match him.
Me and my arm candy were talking about where to get our super delayed lunch and we decided Japanese because of my eating preferences (yes, I have preferences now. Darla with the Wrester's diet is dead) as we climbed the stairs from the basement parking.
When we turned to walk to the escalator, I got distracted again and my mind uttered a single word.
Oh not that bovine bitch that I saw in "Who's Viewed Me?" but another bitch. A knocked up bitch. I guess she's now formerly knocked up. But who really cares.
I should commend her because she looked at me directly and smiled. She smiled like we are friends. She smiled like she was glad to see me. What the fuck?!?
If Mr. Gigolo hears me he'd cluck at my potty mouth.
I felt my facial muscles tense and for a good second I stared down at her which made her look away. Yeah right bitch. We're not friends. We used to be but the knife you stuck on my back is actually longer than the knife stuck by the bovine bitch. I remember you said before, "I forgive but I don't forget".
Here's a newsflash for you, I don't forgive when I won't forget. And what you and other bitches did is something unforgettable. You will always be in the top five of my hate list.
So don't smile at me. Don't small talk to me. Don't make me one of your references. If by happenstance you and the other bitches stumble on me online or offline, shut your pie hole and leave. I made my amends a long time ago and I have no guilt.
On a positive note, I did ask my arm candy (who was a silent witness when I was ambushed by back stabbers) why I have so much hate. He smiled and said he doesn't know. But he added, "Maybe coz you're Darla." How comforting.
On a more positive note, Bitter Bastard (BB) chatted me that I should have made small talk with the (formerly) knocked up bitch and said, "Will you take the knife from my back? You'll probably need it again."