An evening in the bitter barn

Oops! Do you ever finally hear what you must sound like to other people? Last night, I caught a glimpse of how other people might be perceiving me. It's not what I'd planned. But I'm glad I noticed, so I can work in a little image retouching.
Here's what I mean. I was talking to several of my girls in a ritual we like to call "Van Time." They are so good to let me spout off, but I feel pretty bad that I've been so surly. After thinking back on my venting, I realized I've fallen into that super-unnattractive category of bitter girl. Or as a lady at the YSA conference in Carlsbad put it, "One of those girls." How and when did I turn into the very sour-faced Mormon girl I'd ranted against in a brilliant (if I do say so myself) and funny article just a few years ago? But here I was, expressing my anger toward a particular boy in terms of the ways I'd like to do him in. I'm not a violent person, but hitting him with my van sounded really nice last night.
And I'm mad at myself for going out with guys I know I'll never like-- not in a real way. It's just a way to ward off loneliness. Isn't that just stupid?
The thing is, I'm completely, blissfully happy with about 95 percent of my life. I really am not a bitter girl, but I've been acting like one for a little while now. OK, consider this my new leaf turned over and flipped and preserved in gold and put on display in the Rachel museum. And if you catch me acting bitter, come up and flick my ear or something.