Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Finally, a break through! Or, how I figured out what's wrong with me and the rest of the world.

The common theme cropping up among the blogs I read and the people I know is: Dating. I've waxed poetic on it myself, and it seems like it is the only thing we talk about anymore.

Needless to say, I've been thinking a lot about my singledom and the reasons for it. While I may not be the best looking woman in the world (we can't all be Angie Jolie. sigh), I'm not unfortunate. Hell, even the unfortunate are dating! I clean up nice, can speak eloquently on a number of topics, and am generally nice to those who are nice to me.

The problem seems, to quote one of my favorite movies, "I hate people, but I love gatherings". This may also explain why my new favorite way to break a lull in conversation is to yell "Stranger Danger!" at the top of my lungs.

Last night, I met up with the boys at our neighborhood bar. We sat around outside enjoying the cool weather, smoking, and teasing those who passed by. At some point, our small group of 5 was joined by an annoyingly blond woman. I have no idea who she was. She asked a lot of questions but gave no answers. The general consensus was she was on the prowl looking to cheat on her husband. Whether that is true or not is debatable.

Another guy then joined and started talking to anyone who would listen. He stole my chair when I got up to get a refill, so I stole it back when he did the same. I want to sit next to my friends, dammit!

So, I'm sitting there when he comes back. There are no more chairs, so off he goes to find a new one. Pulling it up behind me, he says, "I hope you know I'm not creepy."

Uh, dude, that's creepy.

He goes on and on. Finally, I turn to him and say, "Why are you telling me any of this?"

I don't care about you or how you sometimes come here "flying solo". Ew.

The first opportunity I get I move my chair. The blond will not stop talking. Soon, she's distracted by another group of strangers who've come to sit at our table as well it seems.

"Why do these people keep sitting near us?"

Thank god for my friend Trevor . A kick ass photographer and General of all things Northeastern, he says exactly what we're all thinking.

"Oh thank god! You're thinking it too", I reply. "I can't figure out how to get them to leave without poking their eyes out with spoons."

"We gotta get out of here."


I don't like new people. I make friends when I need to. If you asked most of my friends, they would tell you they thought I hated them when we met. I don't learn names until I have to. Sometimes, that can mean a long time. Just because we've met, does not mean I know you from Adam. Usually, we have to hang out socially for a while before I remember, though that is in no way certain. Example: A girl just joined our book club. I've met her a few times, we have mutual friends; but I couldn't tell you her name if my life depended on it. It's something common is all I know. I better figure it out soon, because she is sure to be there tonight.

[side note: If you want your child to avoid going through this, I suggest you name them something different. I'm not saying to take it to celebrity status. There are enough Apple's, Banjo's, and Octavian's in the world. But please, no more Jennifer's, Brian's, Emily's, or Justin's.]

So, back to the point. Until I re-learn how to be social, I will spend my nights at home reading or watching T.V. My only interaction will be with friends who's stories I've already heard, but love dearly.



  1. Not quite what I was looking for... Besides, my cat would eat another for breakfast. He is my lord and master

  2. Ha. Yes, that duo was as annoying as can be! I am usually entertained by people like that. It gives me an excuse to completely fuck with them. But they just got under my skin.

    Thanks for the kind words!

  3. I don't like it when strangers are presumptuous and obnoxious. You could probably get away with one or the other, but NOT both.

    I like meeting new people, but only if they're worth meeting. It's just that most people aren't. Worth meeting, that is.