The phone rang this morning...

"Hey Tracey!" It was Stella. She wanted to know if I was mad at her for bringing Zach food all the time. Ha! She does though, she brings him food like once a week. She says it's leftover stuff that she's got to get rid of, but I think she just likes having someone to cook for. Oh what was it the other day...stuffed cabbage, he loved it. And I didn't have to cook for him so that was great for me. Neither one of us could have been happier about it.

I guess she came by over the weekend to say hi and probably check up on how Zach liked the cabbage. We were in the backyard, fighting loudly, like we sometimes do...I waved at Stella and gave her an exasperated look but I was too frustrated to notice that she never ended up coming through the gate to join us. So today she called all concerned about it. She thought I was mad at her and that it might be because she brings Zach food...hehe. We talked about it for a few minutes and I assured her that I was not, nor have ever been mad about that. It was so cute that she was all concerned about that.

I feel bad that she spent a couple of days worried about that though. Is this what is in my future? After 80 years of living will my female relationships still be rought with themes like 'the desperate need for approval', 'longing for validation', intimidation, jealousy, and 'the fear of not being liked'?

It's fine that Stella supplies meals for Zach, but what's a little annoying (mostly funny though) is when she tries to make me eat the stuff she makes. A couple months ago she called up and told me to bring a big pot over so she could fill it up with this soup she'd made. She swore it had no meat in it. I got over there and saw that in addition to barley, beef should have been in the title. "No, no, that's not meat," she tried to convince me. "Liar!" I half joked. "If that's not meat," I said pointing to a huge chunk of brown mush, "what is it?" Stella actaully said, "Oh that? That's just steak." What does she think, just because I don't eat meat, that I can't identify it? Other times she'll bring something over and say, "You can have some too." I remind her of my still-unchanged lifestyle choice and she says, "Oh, well, you can just pick it out." Doesn't matter. Animal flesh was still in there to begin with, swimming around with the other ingredients, contaminating them with its juices.

I don't expect this to change anytime soon, but just like her calling me 'Tracey', this feigned obliviousness is our special dynamic, I guess.