E-mail to Paige

[x-crowdofone.livejournal.com]

To: Guthrie, Paige
From: Madrox, Jamie
Subject: I didn't know about the boots.

So I had no way of knowing why you were flaring up. So what it looked like, to me, was you pointing out to 'Yana that she was overreacting, 'Yana blowing up at you for the way you pointed it out, and you blowing up at her for blowing up at you, which is exactly the kind of thing we both got fed up with not even a week ago. If I'd known about the boots, I wouldn't have been that snappish. But, at the same time, I think if you'd sat down last night and taken the time it took to tell me about the boots this morning to explain to 'Yana that things had gone past mischief, and ask for the boots back, it could've been resolved a lot quicker and with less threatening people on both sides.

Either way, though, the comment about the threats was to 'Yana, a lot more than it was to you. And reading back . . . okay, maybe the last part wasn't clear. I don't think either of you are petty blonde bitches; I was just saying, that since it seemed like that's what both of you had decided the other one was, you could just decide not to waste your time with that kind of person anymore.

I'm not trying to tell you not to get mad. I'm definitely not trying to tell you you don't deserve to get mad, or something. I admit I thought it was a little hypocritical that you got into a pointless argument about what to do when people get into pointless arguments, but that has nothing to do with your dad's boots, because I didn't know anything about them when I was thinking it. You can be mad at me if you want, but please don't make it about something it isn't.

And if you decide not to be mad, can we go riding later?