Why Girls Are Weird

by Pamela Ribon

  “You’re going to be my bridesmaid,” she said with an intensity I’d never seen before.

  “Becca, you don’t have to do this.”

  “I’m not letting Ian tell me what I can and can’t do at my wedding. That’s bullshit. He’ll have to suck it up and be a man. You’re our friend too, Anna, and he’s got no right to threaten to pull out of the wedding just because he’s too much of a baby to deal with the decisions he’s made in his life. You’re my bridesmaid and fuck him if he can’t be mature enough to deal with it.”

  Why couldn’t I say things like that? How did Becca know how to sum up my feelings in one speech of fury? I wanted to be the one saying all the right things for once. To validate my own feelings for a change.

  Ignoring our plans to meet in Baggage Claim, Tess was waiting at my gate when I walked off the plane. She pulled me in for a hug. She smelled like sugar and flowers. She had gotten a haircut in the few days since I’d seen her. Glittery clips pulled her blond bob back on the sides, bringing out her giant green eyes even more.

  “Yay! Yay! You’re here! It’s freezing outside.”

  Tess chattered on about her flight and the hotel and the itinerary as I stood in Baggage Claim waiting for the moment when I could smoke again. The conference was tomorrow afternoon and we’d be treated to lunch before Tess spoke. I was going to sit next to her at a table until the question-and-answer period. Then Tess would explain who I was, show pictures of my website, and then let people ask me questions.

  There was a problem with the rental car. Tess was too young to rent it, so I handed over my credit card and did it myself. Tess was apologetic, but it wasn’t a big deal to me. I was anxious to see Pittsburgh for the first time. Kurt’s Pittsburgh.

  It was nothing like I’d imagined. I thought I’d be walking into a city that had a sky black with soot that smelled like hard work and sorrow. I’m sure the Christmas season helped. It was sparkly and pretty with tinsel. There was a warm holiday sheen about the town. The houses and bridges had a history not found in Texas cities. There were layers and hills and old buildings that had been there forever. Large buildings jutted toward the sky and water surrounded everything. It smelled good. I love the smell of cold. It feels like it’s cleaning out your insides.

  Our hotel rooms were nice. Thankfully I didn’t have to room with Tess. I told her that I was feeling a bit tired and made plans to have dinner with her in a couple of hours. I checked my e-mail.

  -----

  Subject: Holy Fucking Shit.

  AK

  I’m freaking out, just a little. I was walking to get coffee this morning and I realized you were on a plane that was rushing over here and soon you’d be here in my city and there’s nothing I can do about it. You’ll be here and we’re going to meet and this thing is actually going to happen. We’re going to meet each other.

  I need you to calm me down. Or don’t. Maybe you’re just as freaked out. I’m not making any sense. What if you don’t like me in person? What if I disappoint you?

  I’m ldobler23 on Instant Messenger. We can write there and it won’t be as intimate as the phone and won’t take as long as these e-mails. Don’t tease me about my IM name, please. I only have it to talk to a few people, like my sister. And you, if you want.

  This is terrible. I hope you’re nervous, too. Why am I nervous? This is so stupid. Ignore this. I can’t wait to hear from you. To see you. To meet you, for real.

  Ignore that, too. Or don’t.

  -LD. Wait. Kurt. I’m Kurt now, huh?

  -Kurt

  -----

  I was too anxious to nap, so I forced myself to watch the Weather Channel until I fell asleep. Tess called to wake me up a few minutes before ten. “Are you almost ready?” she giggled. I was sure she was about to knock on my door. I asked for a few more minutes and threw on my clothes.

  I looked myself over in the mirror. My eyes looked tired, but that was from the plane combined with the very short nap. Betty was unhappy, so I splashed water on my comb and ran it through, pulling my hair into a ponytail. I dabbed on lip gloss. I looked closer at my skin, checking for wrinkles. I looked closer at my face, checking for lies.

  It was time to start fixing things.

  000051.

  I was freezing by the time we found a diner. Every restaurant was closed at that hour, and we finally settled at a Denny’s, the smell of warm grease melting our numb fingertips.

  Tess and I sat across from each other. She started once our food had arrived.

  “I’m really sorry about hurting you with my website.”

  “It’s okay, Tess. You don’t have to keep saying that.”

  She shook her head and looked down. “I’ve been wanting to say this for so long. I’m not writing because you do. I mean, there are other journals out there. But yours was the first that made me trust myself enough to try my own.”

  “Because mine’s nothing special?” I brought the mug of coffee to my lips. It felt so good to have something warm inside of me. I felt the coffee all the way down as it traveled to my stomach. My body relaxed and my toes unclenched for the first time since I got off the plane. Even my nap had been tense, filled with fretful dreams of not being good enough, of not getting the truth out correctly.

  “You made me want to try it, too. Anyway, again, I’m sorry. I should have told you I was going to write about you.”

  “I haven’t exactly been honest with you all the time, either, Tess.”

  I could have brought up Dale’s e-mail from Ian and apologized and moved on. I didn’t. I couldn’t. I wanted to see if she’d mention it. I wanted to see what she’d do with it.

  “I didn’t have a sibling that died at camp.”

  Tess sighed. “I’m so glad to hear that.”

  “Yeah. It was a stupid thing to tell you. Sorry.”

  “No, I feel better because I lied to all of my readers and told them that I had a younger sibling that died, too.”

  “Sara?”

  “I made her up.” Tess bit her lower lip and smiled. “I wondered if they’d all buy it. They did.”

  “So did you,” I said.

  “How many of us are making up fake dead people?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “We’re terrible!”

  Her eyes widened. She hesitated before she asked, “Your dad?”

  “No, he’s really dead. But I’ve never taken a ballet class in my life.”

  “That’s okay. I never did a show on Broadway.”

  “I didn’t buy that lie for one second.”

  “Like I believed that you really stole a CD from Borders because they didn’t have the book you wanted in stock.”

  “Okay, that didn’t happen.”

  “I know!” Tess shouted at me. “It’s way too lame to be true.”

  “Bitch!” I shouted back. We were quickly back to how we were the night we first met, even though I still felt a little reserved. I wasn’t willing to let her have as much of me as I did that first time.

  “When are you going to tell everyone about Ian?” she asked.

  I looked up from my fries. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean how you’ve obviously made him up. Nobody would put up with all of your shit. Unless he’s really ugly.”

  Only her smile told me she was teasing.

  “You’ve clearly made him up and I’m hurt that you’d make all of us think that you’re something you’re not, Anna Koval.”

  She laughed. I laughed. I sipped my coffee as she continued. “Besides. He totally wants to fuck me, and you know it.”

  I looked back up at her. “That’s so gross, Tess.”

  “No, he told me. He’s in love and we’ve been writing in secret and he told me that he’s terribly jealous that I’m with you this weekend instead of him. He wanted the three of us to mug down on your futon.”

  Was this a trick? Was she trying to make me confess everything? Or was she testing to see if I knew about Ian’s e-mail? Maybe she alread
y figured out that I sent that e-mail and she wanted to see if I’d fess up.

  I didn’t say anything. Any word seemed like the wrong one.

  “God. You should see your face,” she said as she tossed her napkin onto the table. “Calm down. I’m kidding.”

  I hated it that I didn’t know which part she was kidding about. I hadn’t checked the fake Ian e-mail account in a while. I wondered if she had written him back after Dale’s prank.

  Again I realized I barely knew this girl sitting across from me. She was too young to be friends with me. I didn’t want a relationship with Tess. I came on this trip for Kurt. I just wanted her to know the truth so she didn’t waste her time with me or get hurt. I needed her to know that people aren’t always who or what they say they are. I wanted her to learn something from this. I figured I could test out telling the truth to her to see how bad the reaction would be. If she wasn’t upset, maybe Kurt wouldn’t be either.

  “I’m not getting married next year,” I started. “There’s no talk of it at all.” I looked down as my mouth kept running. “My parents don’t live in Houston. I don’t have an ex named Devon. I never skipped a grade. I was never in a holdup. I didn’t write a book of poems that were almost published. I’m not in a play right now. In fact, I haven’t been in a play in a long time. I sort of gave up acting but I’m too afraid to tell anybody. I’m afraid everybody will find out I’m a fake. I’m torn because I don’t care what most of my readers think, but I do care very much about a couple of you, so I keep lying for the benefit of the entire group. I’m sorry I wasn’t more honest with you. I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

  When I finally looked up, Tess was staring at me with a huge smile. “Congratulations, Anna. You’re as fucked up as the rest of us.”

  000052.

  annakannak: Hello?

  ldobler23: Hi.

  annakannak: Am I doing this right?

  ldobler23: I don’t think there’s a wrong way. Hi.

  annakannak: This feels really stupid.

  ldobler23: I know.

  annakannak: How old are we?

  ldobler23: Too old for this, I’m sure. Thank you for doing this.

  annakannak: It’s okay.

  ldobler23: Where are you?

  annakannak: I’m in my hotel room. I’m supposed to go out and meet my friend for drinks soon, but I told her I had to call Ian. So for the purposes of right now, you’re Ian, okay?

  ldobler23: Okay. Hey, baby. When should I change the kitty litter?

  annakannak: That’s good. Very convincing.

  ldobler23: Thanks.

  annakannak: You could give me your phone number.

  ldobler23: Nope.

  annakannak: Why not?

  ldobler23: Because the last time we talked on the phone you didn’t want to talk to me again ever. So I’m respecting your wishes. No phones.

  annakannak: You’re being stupid.

  ldobler23: You’re the stupid.

  annakannak: I was going through some bad shit. I’m sorry you felt like I was ignoring you or abandoning you. I wasn’t. I promise. I’m sorry. Look, I’m here, aren’t I? Hello?

  ldobler23: You’re only here for the conference. Don’t try to sound like you’re here for me.

  annakannak: I know you like your town and all, but trust me, Pittsburgh isn’t a place you hope you get to go to. I didn’t jump up and down about the conference because I was getting to see the Tower of Knowledge.

  ldobler23: The Cathedral of Learning.

  annakannak: Whatever.

  ldobler23: So why are you here?

  annakannak: To meet one of my best friends.

  ldobler23: Who?

  annakannak: You.

  ldobler23: Me?

  annakannak: Yep.

  ldobler23: Wow.

  annakannak: Yeah.

  ldobler23: Thank you.

  annakannak: Well, it’s true. Ta-da.

  ldobler23: Now I feel like an asshole for making you go to a chat room to talk to me. I should be man enough to use a fucking phone, for fuck’s sake.

  annakannak: Nice language.

  ldobler23: I cuss when I’m nervous.

  annakannak: I can see that.

  ldobler23: Aren’t you nervous?

  annakannak: Of course I am.

  ldobler23: Is it because you’re ugly?

  annakannak: Asshole. What if I really am ugly?

  ldobler23: Well, I think it’s only fair to tell you now that I’m really, really ugly.

  annakannak: Oh?

  ldobler23: Hideous. Children running in the street, pointing and screaming.

  annakannak: That’s too bad.

  ldobler23: I know. I tried hiding with my parents my entire life, but eventually my mother got so depressed having to look at my face boils every day that she kicked me out.

  annakannak: I can understand.

  ldobler23: Me too. But I wish she hadn’t given me her family’s nose. It’s huge and gets in my way.

  annakannak: In your way?

  ldobler23: When I talk. Sometimes my upper lip catches on the end of my nose. Every once in a while you’ll have to detach my lip from my nose. You don’t mind, do you?

  annakannak: Why can’t you do it?

  ldobler23: Because my hands ooze from all of the sores, and they’re afraid it’ll spread to my face if I touch it.

  annakannak: What a horrible way to live.

  ldobler23: You get used to it. Look how far we’ve come already. I appreciate how you love me for who I am and it doesn’t matter what I look like. You can see the real me.

  annakannak: That’s because I know what it’s like.

  ldobler23: You do?

  annakannak: Of course I do. You don’t spend half your life with this body without learning a thing or two about how cruel the world is to the hideous.

  ldobler23: You’re hideous, too?

  annakannak: Yes. I’m gigantic, but just in parts. Bad glands. I’m swollen in these strange areas. Like my left thigh. My other thigh is fine, but my left thigh is enormous. Sometimes it’s so swollen that I can’t wear anything on that side, so I wear tiny skirts. It wouldn’t be such a bad thing if I didn’t have a swollen right ass cheek.

  ldobler23: That sounds awful.

  annakannak: It’s really only awful for the man in my life that has to drain it once a week. It gets really pussy.

  ldobler23: That word is very different when you write it out. You do mean full of pus and not that your ass is a vagina, right?

  annakannak: Hee. Yes.

  ldobler23: Good.

  annakannak: Anyway, I was discussing my hideousness. The huge thigh and huge ass aren’t really what you end up noticing about me. See, my nose bleeds all of the time, and it drains into my gigantic lower lip. I’ve got no teeth, so it falls into my mouth where I make loud sippy noises and gulp my nose blood all day long.

  ldobler23: Ew.

  annakannak: What? How is it that I’m the one that went too far?

  ldobler23: You’re gross.

  annakannak: Shut up.

  ldobler23: No, seriously, I don’t want to meet you now. I’m afraid I won’t ever be able to sleep again.

  annakannak: This was your game to begin with. Dammit.

  ldobler23: So what do you think of Pittsburgh?

  annakannak: I think it’s fucking cold. And why can’t I find a place to eat?

  ldobler23: I’ll show you a good place.

  annakannak: Promise?

  ldobler23: Well, I would have, before I knew how gross you were. I’ll e-mail you a list or something instead.

  annakannak: Very nice of you.

  ldobler23: I try.

  annakannak: Are we gonna do this? Are we gonna meet up?

  ldobler23: Do you want to?

  annakannak: I do. Is that okay? Do you want to?

  ldobler23: Yes, Anna Koval. I’d very much like to meet you.

  annakannak: Good.

  ldobler23: Do you want to meet m
e?

  annakannak: I do.

  ldobler23: Well, we should do that, then.

  annakannak: Okay.

  ldobler23: You free tomorrow?

  annakannak: After the conference, yes. Dinnertime.

  ldobler23: Dinnertime tomorrow.

  annakannak: Or tonight.

  ldobler23: Oh.

  annakannak: But tomorrow’s good.

  ldobler23: You want to meet tonight?

  annakannak: No, you’re right. Tomorrow’s fine.

  ldobler23: I didn’t know you meant so soon.

  annakannak: Forget it. I’ve got plans anyway.

  ldobler23: We could. I could come by the bar or something.

  annakannak: No, forget it. We’ll do it tomorrow.

  ldobler23: You sure?

  annakannak: Yes, that was stupid. I can’t even stay up too late, since I have the conference tomorrow.

  ldobler23: You want to stay up late with me?

  annakannak: Shut up.

  ldobler23: It’s so soon. We haven’t even met yet.

  annakannak: Shut up.

  ldobler23: Slut.

  annakannak: Stop.

  ldobler23: Heh.

  annakannak: So, tomorrow night.

  ldobler23: Sounds good.

  annakannak: You’ll pick me up or should I meet you somewhere?

  ldobler23: I can pick you up.

  annakannak: Okay. Good.

  ldobler23: The hotel’s not far from where I live.

  annakannak: Okay.

  ldobler23: Is seven good?

  annakannak: Yeah.

  ldobler23: Then I’ll see your ugly ass tomorrow.

  000053.

  Who Am I, Anyway? Am I My Resume?

  12 DECEMBER

  It’s cold in Pittsburgh. I’ve probably said it 15,000 times since my plane landed, but I’m not done. It’s cold. The coldest we get in Austin is, like, 23 degrees. Then we cry. We cry because we don’t understand anything so cold. I feel like my bones and muscles have frozen solid. My ears feel like they’re in boiling water. This morning after my shower my nipples froze and shattered into pieces that scattered across the floor. I’m nippleless. I’m hideous!

  So today I’m speaking at a conference about this website. People are going to ask questions like why do I keep this website and what kind of people are interested in someone like me and why do I tell you about my personal life.