Friendship

by Marinka on November 9, 2011

I’ve been lucky with friends.

I have friends from every era of my life– high school (ok, so we’ve drifted apart), college, graduate school, various jobs I’ve had, volunteer work, mothers from each of my children’s grades, and now, blogging.

I treasure these friends. Because I feel like we know each other and we understand each other and we protect each other. Sort of like the Marines, but with Chardonnay and standing pedicure appointments.

So when one of those friends does something that hurts me, that damages me to my very core, I have to reflect.

Did I misjudge the friend? Did I imagine our friendship to be more important than it was? Am I too sensitive?

I’m not going to name any names, but recently someone that I considered a friend did something that made me reflect and question everything I thought I knew. (Fortunately, it’s not very much.)

She sent me an email that had the word ute in it. As in short for “uterus”. And I’ll tell you, I haven’t been the same since.

I assume that she did it because she didn’t know how to download soundbytes of nails scratching on a chalkboard and wanted the fastest way possibly to skeeve me out.

I can’t get the word out of my mind and stop being grossed out by it.

What is wrong with our society where friends inflict such emotional turmoil on each other? Is uterus so long a word that we have to abbreviate it into something so disgusting. AND DOES IT GROSS OUT EVERYONE ELSE TOO, O FAIR READERS?

I may never know.

But I mourn the friendship.

One year ago ...

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{ 21 comments… read them below or add one }

Wendi
Twitter:
November 9, 2011 at 2:58 pm

I told you, it rhymes with “cute.” I was just being poetic. Jeez.

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Wacky Granny November 9, 2011 at 3:20 pm

And toot!

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SAB November 9, 2011 at 3:43 pm

Haven’t you already had to put Wendi on Friendship Death Row in the past, for making wisecracks about your age???!?!

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Marinka November 9, 2011 at 3:49 pm

That is an excellent point. Thanks to my giant heart and always seeing the best in people, I’d forgiven her, but this is too much.

Thank you for reminding me of the history. I can now commence the vendetta.

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awesome dude November 9, 2011 at 5:05 pm

This person, probably, is not very mature. Surly, she did not mean to offend you.

There are vocabular invalids around us……

But, who do grant forgiveness if not to the friends?

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Alina Adams November 9, 2011 at 5:39 pm

I personally can not stand “hubby” and “preggers.” (Not too fond of the latter condition, either, though I’ve endured it three times. And I’m okay with the former, just not the diminutive.”

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highlyirritable
Twitter:
November 9, 2011 at 9:36 pm

…or how about when someone announces, “The hubby and I are preggers!”

That sentence should never be uttered by those able to sexually reproduce. In fact, there should be some kind of test, precluding anyone capable of making that sentence in a non-ironic manner from procreation.

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anna see November 9, 2011 at 5:41 pm

I’m okay with “ute,” I suppose. But please don’t say “slacks” to me. Eww.

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Jess November 9, 2011 at 5:58 pm

“ute” is an Australian slang term for truck. I did not know it was for uterus also. Well, I better be careful who I say it to.

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Deborah J November 10, 2011 at 7:31 am

Ha! I was going to say that.
It puts the phrase, “I’m putting all that junk in the back of my ute.” take on a whole new meaning.

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Catherine
Twitter:
November 9, 2011 at 6:18 pm

You know word really stinks?? Moist. Now that is a word to end all friendships.

Ute? Not so bad.

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Melissa November 10, 2011 at 6:42 pm

Moist! Yes!

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tracy@sellabitmum
Twitter:
November 10, 2011 at 6:57 am

I truly thought your first line said “I’ve gotten lucky with some of my friends” and then I was super jealous.

It’s early.

But Wendi is damn cute.

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Tinne from Tantrums and Tomatoes November 10, 2011 at 8:11 am

The word doesn’t freak me out and nor does it send shivers down my spine, but that is probably because I’m not native English speaking.

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Dorothy November 10, 2011 at 8:24 am

The word that makes me grit my teeth and sit on my hands is this….
Puter
What? First time I read this I had to reread it several times. Pewter? Puker? Putter? I finally asked her what she meant.
Oooooh.
COMputer!
So you can’t write those 3 extra letters? Really?? I literally have to bite my lips and pull my hands back from the keyboard in order not to correct this person. Please write those 3 extra letters! It’s not hard. Truly. C-o-m-p-u-t-e-r. See? Easy!

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Anna Lefler
Twitter:
November 10, 2011 at 8:53 am

Not many people know this, but “ute” was John Wayne’s handle for that particular region of the ol’ lady parts. (The “pilgrim” is implied.)

A.

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Kristine
Twitter:
November 10, 2011 at 9:05 am

I thought the ute was a musical instrument. Turns out it’s a Native American tribe. And Marinka’s uterus.

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Becky
Twitter:
November 10, 2011 at 9:59 am

Reading through the comments, I now have a whole bunch of words that sort of skeeve me out, now that I think about them. But none top the skeeviest of them all: Mother-in-law

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dusty earth mother November 10, 2011 at 6:22 pm

“Ute” is icky. But nothing creeps me out like “boobies”. My husband actually used the word “boobies” once, during a very, um, intimate time. To which I replied, “‘Boobies?!’ Are we having sex at clown college?!”

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Erin November 11, 2011 at 4:13 am

At least she didn’t say “panties.” Ew, shiver.

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tmblewis November 12, 2011 at 8:55 am

Turns out I live in Ute Land. I’m never going to be able to go to a Utes football game again and keep a straight face!

What is a Ute?
The University of Utah and the Utes
(http://utahutes.cstv.com/trads/ute-trads-what.html)

University of Utah athletics teams are known as the “Utes” in honor of the American Indian tribe for which the state of Utah is named. The Utes have inhabited this area of the country for at least 1,000 years. There were originally 12 “Nuche”, or “The People”, bands throughout Utah and Colorado. The Utes were among the first American Indians to acquire the horse as a means of transportation, and in rock writing the Utes are depicted as horses.

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