Okay, there's a reason I took this.

[ysobelle]

You're a Glass of Wine!


What Type of Alcoholic Beverage Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla




Years ago, when I was in college, I had a best friend. I guess it was one of those transition times from high school to adult, when you cling to the girly things you used to do, all the while knowing they're passing away, and you can either clutch at them for dear life or accept that things change and just get on. I mean, I still have a best friend, but it's a different sort of animal. Anyway, the last year of school was when I was starting to get into Faire seriously-- making the transition from Playtron to Rennie. My best friend, Michi, was already working Faire. This was BARF-- the Bay Area Renaissance Faire of Largo (now Tampa, as of, er-- this week!). She was a squire for the jousters. As a matter of fact, she was squire for Lance Murray, and was working with him the day he got the lance in the eye. No, the story isn't apocryphal-- it really happened. I arrived later that day, after he'd been Med-evac'd to Bayfront Medical. He managed not to lose the eye, but did lose vision in it, and suffered some brain damage. I worked with him a few years later at PARF. Difficult bastard. But again, I digress.

Michi and I had been having problems in our friendship. She was incredibly competitive, though she either didn't know it, or just refused to admit it. If I started something, she had to do it, too, and do it better, faster, whatever. This was also around the time I started seriously sewing-- you know her dresses had to be done first, and better. She was almost 6', and long-legged-- a fact she never let anyone forget for long. Sigh. That's rough when you're 5'-nothing and battling the freshman 15. Anyway, she apparently went to a party of Rennies, people I was hoping at some point to get to know better, as I really wanted to be part of the scene down there. There were-- and are-- some great people in the area, and I was excited about the whole-new-world thing.

So Michi comes back to campus after this party, and says, oh, we were all sitting around talking, and we were saying, "If you were a drink, what would you be?" And she was so happy that they'd all said she'd be a glass of fine wine.

I saw it coming, I swear. Resignedly, I said, "Oh, really? And what did they say I'd be?"

"Oh...uh, they said you'd be a beer." And apparently, they didn't mean one of those really expensive, exotic ones my ex drank. No, I believe they more relegated me to the Pabst section of the supermarket. How delightful.

I'm not sure if I actually came out and asked her if she, my supposed best friend, had attempted to stand up for me. I can't remember. But shortly thereafter, I realised I was more plaything than equal, and our friendship was pretty much only on paper.

So Is this dumb quizilla thing petty? Well, yeah. I'll admit it. And it's even sillier when you take into consideration I don't drink at all. Still.

Still.

Comments

[psychemarlies.livejournal.com]

Beer? I don't see it. Not in the least.
I would agree that you are a glass of wine. But not your everyday glass of table wine. A good one to be sipped and savoured. Not chugged.

I just don't see the beer... *shakes head*