And speaking of mind-boggling

So I get a light, chatty email from the He-Destroyer at 6 am yesterday with questions regarding: (1) how I was doing, (2) how to make eggs fluffy, (3) whether I want to come on a trip to Europe later this month since his traveling companions have dropped out of that leg of the trip, and (4) "any thoughts on getting together... next week?"

Huh? After that whole long email chain last week where you said it was awkward when we got together because we didn't acknowledge that we should be operating on a deeper level and you implied I was avoiding complications on purpose and maybe he mistook my dispassionate nature for gravity? Yeah, that whole fuckwittage? And now you just want to be Mr. Chatty McLightness, with your fluffy eggs and European trip-invitin'?

So I write back, among other things, that you should add milk to the eggs and beat them before cooking for fluffiness, that my term was going terribly because I have to work closely with someone who annoys the hell out of me, and that I was free on Thursday and Friday nights.

And HE writes back: "Are you saying you'll go to [Europe] with me if I go on a Thursday???" And "Who is this mysterious object of your hatred?"

GOD.

And now, he has invited me on a dinner/movie evening with his ex-GF (a.k.a. the She-Destroyer), the Mormon who Loves Him (and the Mormon's wife), and a Very Nice Southern Boy who is refreshingly normal and whom I am fond of. But I don't WANNA spend time with your screwed up clique, He-Destroyer! Especially since the She-Destroyer and I have talked about the He-Destroyer, the He-Destroyer and I have talked about the She-Destroyer, and the He-Destroyer and the She-Destroyer have talked about me. Just a tad awkward, doncha think?

Okay. I admit it -- I do love the drama. Sometimes. Besides -- fodder for the memoir...