acid tongue // jenny lewis
So I’m sorry, because I probably could have liked you, and I could have probably been a lot better, which would have allowed you to like me too. I’d rather be alone with my pride, drinking two-for-one red wine out of a Snoopy mug as I stay up detailing your minute flaws on a rickety desktop iMac, than sitting next to you, giggling, pretending to be drunk after one cheap drink, and pretending that I’m going to be surprised with whatever outcome you have been carefully planning since somebody told you they had a friend who was “not that bad,” which is what I can only assume people must be saying about me lately.
I acknowledge that I’m getting to the age when you will start to feel obligated to encourage me to enjoy drinking with your single friend, and that is something I’m totally willing to do, but I want you to know something. I’m not single because I’m unhappy and lonely. I’m single because unfortunately, your friend isn’t funny enough to chip away at my good make-up supply or risk missing Saturday Night Live, which is also not always that funny.