Outside of the Beginning, Middle, and End...It was Perfect

Like Sally Fields accepting an award, I realize that people like me, they 'really like me' and as evidence of this I have been invited to many parties and hang out sessions the last couple of weeks.

But unlike Sally Fields (I think), I have declined all of them, with the exception of grabbing dinner after work with co-workers. I don't know what it is. I know being a bailer is horrible. I know I will go down in history as the lonely girl who avoided semi productive social activities because of anxiety, but i can't help it.

I am a fan of small social gatherings. Get me around 4 people, wine coolers, rock band, and a cheesy movie in the background and I am a hoot. But when you add an extra ten people, alcohol, pot (lots of pot), people not in control of their actions and I'm just not feeling it.


Sorry

There is a girl at work, Lexie, who is a photographer major and part time bookseller. She is from the midwest, and has random tattoos on her body (one below her breast which she was way too happy to show us all). She is a...nice girl, but she talks about herself all the time. She wants us all to know how amazing her life is. She is tall, attractive, and has been to India and Germany. She had a really cool internship at NBC (which she didn't fail to tell us about everyday), and she just doesn't shut up.


I don't know if it's because she is not from new york, but I get the sense that is trying to recreate your classic "I was young and lived in new york once" experience. Because of this, nothing she does is just normal, everything is awesome and we all must be apart of her awesomeness. She along with Evan, another co-worker, have invited me to countless parties the last few weeks. But what they consider fun and what I consider fun are two different things. This Saturday they threw a booksellers party at his house in Greenwich. Though I was invited, I was not lured by the "there will be so much pot and vodka" vibe. So I didn't go, and they gave me the stank face all of Sunday (but that also could have been the hungover face)

Evan even came to me and said "we like, i like you that's why I invited you to my house. Why didn't you come? Damn my head hurts"

I want to have good hang out friends. I Do. When Angie was here, I had so much fun. We went to coffee houses, talked about literature, ate really good food and drove around at night laughing. I like those kind of things. But she isn't here now, and I am trying to build a good network of friends who i want to hang out with. But Evan and Lexie do things that just don't interest me, and though they are really good co-workers I don't consider them friends.

So, when Matt helped me with the computer thing I felt like "hey I could build a good friendship with him". But then I found out he wants to be a writer, from Jenn, and over dinner the other night she said he was the worst writer she has ever come across. He sent her links to his story and asked for some constructive criticism, which she gave but he got all writer defensive and they have been on bad terms since. To sum up the story: a girl meets a boy. they fall in love. the end.

There was no conflict, no tension. Just a boy who meets a girl that he likes, and that he keeps on liking until the end of the story. I asked her if I could have the link to his story, and we promised each other we would never let him know.

And later that night I read the story. And I cried, because it was so fucking bad. And I laughed, because it was so fucking bad. And then as I was nearing the end he popped up on IM. I rarely use instant messaging, i'm not going to lie. But my understanding of IM etiquette is that if you IM a person, you should have something to say.

It was the most awkward 20 minutes in my whole life. He asked me why I didn't come on IM a lot. So I told him. And then he said "oh". And then I waited for him to type something else, but he didn't. So I wrote "i heard you like to write, you writing anything lately?" He immediately took the bait:He loves writing (oh dear god help him), it's his passion (seriously) he wants to pursue it hard core (I am so sorry to hear that). He is writing a zombie story, and I asked him if it was like the Living Dead zombies or 28 days later ones (okay, i know there were no actual zombies in 28 days later. It's one of my favorite movies ever. But you can't deny there zombie like qualities).

The conversation went downhill from there. He went on a 'they aren't zombie tirade' and I was like 'dude it's just a movie chill out'. We then talked about the writing process and he sort of insulted my approach to writing. While it is all kinds of easy for him, I told him that writing is not for me. That depending on the story, my attachment to the characters and what they are going through wears me out because in order for it to be authentic I have to go there with them.

If we would have been talking face to face I think he would have laughed at me. He replied with some snide comment like 'well that's weird.", and that's when I signed off. Crush downgrade. It was so bizarre for him to IM, have nothing to say, get all defensive, then make me all defensive and then say my writing approach is weird. I was tempted to say 'and by the way I read your story and it was pretty bad. good luck with the zombie Apocalypse' But I didn't because I wouldn't.


I want friends.I really do I miss having them. But they are harder to find the older you get. I could go to random drunk parties with co-workers. I could get all kinds of wasted with people I don't like. But I have never wanted that, and I do not want that now. Everyone has an angle, everyone has a flaw, and I see myself just trying to fit myself in some where. To belong with a handful of friends that are all my own.

Why is it so hard? Where are these friends I desperately want, and on some days desperately need.