So many many a year ago, in a kingdom by the sea,
Was a group of dramatified ladies who were as crazy as can be,
And these ladies they lived with no other thought
Than to cause drama and chaos, you see.

Okay.  Apologies to Edgar Allan Poe.  Sometimes, I have no explanation for where these things come from.

See, a lifetime ago, I was friends with this group of ladies/women/girls/bitches/whatever you think we should all be called.  There was drama.  Lots of it.  There was laughter.  Lots of it.  There was anger.  Lots of it.  There was backstabbing.  Lots of it.  There was a soap opera.  Lots of it.  There was traveling.  Lots of it.  There was the internet.  LOTS of it.

Honestly, we made the soap opera we all followed look tame, normal, and downright boring.

We all came together in, say, ‘96 maybe?  Online, of course, as we were scattered all over the country and, for one, the globe.  And for about four or five years…well, I won’t say things were “great” because the whole group never was.  There were certainly shining moments, a lot of sharing, a lot of genuine friendship, but to say we were all beyond screwed up is giving us ALL too much credit.  I’d recount a few tales, but I really just don’t remember anymore.  Nor do I think I’d want to if I did.  I behaved horribly, they behaved horribly, we were all absolutely incorrigible, and someone should have taken away both our internet and our high school drama queen tiaras that we all walked around like we deserved above all others.

(To the ones who may or may not be reading now, stop shaking your head.  You KNOW I am right.)

In 2000, if not before, it all started imploding.  For a group of eight females, we splintered off in about as many different combinations as you can imagine.  These two would start IMing and bashing this one, then that one and another would get together and bash the first one, then the first one and another would get together and turn on someone else.  It was just simply a royal, true MESS.  But we all also purported to still be friends for the most part. 

Ha-friggen-ha.

Sometime in 2001/2002, I know I personally threw my hands up, sent an email to the whole lot of them, and said, “I’m done.  I don’t want to hear from any of you insane people again. The End.”

There was more to the story than that, but we won’t go there.

Anyhoo.

I’d email with one or two of them once every third blue moon, mostly still masking vitriol and reading between the lines to find theirs.  It wasn’t a pretty sight at all.

Then somewhere along the line, I got married and had a kid.  One of the girls moved back to her beloved LA and got a dream job.  Another settled down with a great guy and a couple of dogs.  Yet another had some eye-opening life experiences and started setting her sights on a family of her own.  And another moved to England and found the love of her life and the social life she’s always wanted.  One of them is still pretty wacky, but then, I wouldn’t expect any less.

The fact of the matter is, we’re all completely different people now than we were then.  Life happened along the way and our perspectives shift.  And today, as I was laughing at a thread some of us have started over an old picture on Facebook when I saw one of the names I’ve avoided for eight years pop up in the conversation, I started thinking.

What, really, is the point of a grudge when you no longer remember what the grudge was over in the first place?