Love Your Frenemy.

All women know at least one woman  who is a frenemy.  Someone to whom you are socially polite to in public, but know anything you say will be twisted and repeated by her in strange and malicious ways.  For one reason or another, you keep on being polite to her, usually because if you make her your outright emeny, she'll just be much more evil.

Let's face it, women can be vicious.

My frenemy is the kind of woman who will look you up and dawn, and then proclaim, "Oh, you look fine.  I mean, you don't look like you used to, but you look okay."  Great.  Gotta love that. Or- "What's the matter?  Is something wrong?  You look so- oh, I don't know, old and tired today.  I'm really concerned." 

Maybe I should just make her an enemy.  Seriously, how can she be worse to me than she already is?  When she found out I was internet dating, she asked me if I was planning to clean up my diet.  You know, eliminate things like cookies.  Wine.  Probably food, in general.  I said no, I happen to like that stuff.  She told me that I was looking a little pudgy and that I needed to be more careful about what I ate.

Gotta love how sisters stick together, don't you?

Excuse me.  There are cookies in my cookie jar, calling to me.