"Sorry.  I have to cancel we're going rock climbing."

"Oooo Kaaayy!?!"  I said somewhat reluctantly and trying not to sound like too much of an asshole. "Have a good time!"

I hung up the phone, confused, shocked and freaking annoyed.

This was the third; count it third cancellation in a week.   This, from my friend of over 10 years.  This from the friend whose morning phone calls I used to be able to set my clock to.  This from the woman that use to chant, "Bro's before Ho's Bro's before Ho's," after one too many shots of tequila.  She was canceling on me again and to go "Rock Climbing?" She hates rocks.' Besides, where in the hell is she gonna find some urine-free rocks to climb in New York City?

Then it all began to fit together like a sordid but somehow very familiar little puzzle:

The "no shows."

The almost forgivable, if it weren't so constant "can we take a rain check?"

The

"Oh shit, that was todays?"

The

Last time I saw her, she was wearing someone else's clothes, running late, and mumbling somethin' about, "We only drink silver label Patron."

That's when it hit me.  I was being knocked upside the head with the "Big O!' No, not that "big O." That's a big wonderful "O" and it's not something that you get knocked upside the head with-- not if it's being done right... Then again, who am I to judge?

I'm talking about the "O" that comes when the I becomes We and the Me becomes We and the You becomes 'youtwo'- feel me?

It's the "BIG O"

The "O" my goodness I don't even recognize my friend!

The "O" my gracious I haven't seen her in weeks!

"O" my goodness is she blowing me off, again?

more on next page...

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(continued)

The accumulation of these "O's" almost always eventually turns into an accidental meeting where you blurt out, "Since when in the 10 years that I have known you have you started wearing pink and yellow polka-dots and dressing like Homie the Clown? Put down the Crocs and get a real pair of shoes!"


The "O" that means that two very reasonable, highly intelligent, fun loving, witty separate but equal people have become one big blob of we, and us-s and of excuses that are given when wearing someone else's clothing.  

I used to be a part of an "O."  I'd like to think that we were a fun-filled fantastical kind of charming "O," but decorate it, paint it up as you like... We were just one big mesh of an "O." We did everything together. We bled with each other, answered for each other, began to love and hate all of the same things, and wore each other's clothing -- ill fitting as it may have been.  We were so rolled up into each other that we were a kind of lesbian freak show.

Ladies and Ladies step right up and witness the merging of two separate bodies into one mind. It's the "O" show.

It was warm and fuzzy and comforting and safe and engaging and intoxicating and precious...until? Weeks, or months, years, or decades later you've lost yourself and contact with most of the outside world.

I woke up one day and didn't at all recognize the girlygirl in boi clothing.

I had to spend a lot of time excavating and extracting, trying desperately to get back to myself and asking myself questions like, "Okay, do you really like cargo pants or were they something that was just cute on her that you adopted so that you could hold both of ya'lls lip-glosses, wallets, and metro-cards and keys?"

And as a note of caution for those on their way to becoming a big "O" and blowing off your friends -- I think that 'rain checks' actually have to do with rain -- inclement weather -- and not the scent of a new woman.

Read more of Gloria's insights.

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