Sugar Coated Pretzel

I am ready to fly off the fucking handle--whatever the fuck that means.. That is a really dumb thing to say-- All I can picture is some Tiny Tim creature standing on the handle of a frying pan, and jumping, falling, getting flung off the handle. Why would that express anger???
*setting stupidity aside*
Goddamn wedding BITCH calls again. We talk for a while... Then she has to go, but we haven't talked about us not talking for a month. Until I couldn't take the -sugar coated, glossed over, pretend this never happened, goddamn insides twisted like a pretzel- situation anymore.
Asked who was in her wedding. She doesn't know. Told her I assumed I wasn't in it. And.. dun dun dun... SHE got pissy with ME! She starts going off about how if I'm going to be mad about it, or resenting it, she doesn't want me in it--she doesn't want me to have to spend $1000--she doesn't want me being mad about the date it's on (worst day of the entire year for me, and her wedding is on it)--how fiance's sister is the ONLY one honored to be in it (and, to tell the truth, she should be honored--she's only a bride's maid cuz the fiance requested it)--and other shit. After her little rant, I said I assumed I wasn't in it because she hadn't called me for a month. Defensive response: "you didn't call either!" To which I could truthfully respond--yes. I did. (bitch)
Then the back peddling starts, answering machine, someone erased the message, finally discovered from caller id, blah blah blah....
Then she starts going on about how 'you have to live your life the way you want' (as if I needed permission), and how hard her and her fiance are working to earn more money to pay for the extravaganza... But the way she was saying it was in this patronizing, you gotta do what you gotta do type voice-- the message that came ringing through was 'well, if you don't want to think my wedding is the single most important event in your life right now, and you don't want to get a job and work your ass off for months just for me and my one day .. . well, you gotta do what you gotta do"
As if. I told her I was honored and flattered to have been asked, and I was over the date, it was strictly a money thing--- and (I said) honor doesn't buy money. (and yes, even the first time I said it, I realized how stupid it sounded... buy money... sheesh.. but it got the point across-- or would have if she wouldn't have been all about her)
Whatever. Bitch.
I offered to do the behind the scenes thing... (And she should count herself lucky) Again, me the fucking saint. The fucking saint doomed to hell.