Think back. Can you remember your high school yearbook quote? Was it something lame? Some lyrics to a song you thought ROCKED the year you graduated? I remember my quote exactly and I think of it and repeat it to myself all the time. Here it is, complete with a picture and some lovely stats of how I spent my four years of high school.
To everyone who read that quote back in 1994 when I graduated, and even those reading it now, I must have seemed like someone who wanted to say something profound about fashion. Or to look cool quoting Jane’s Addiction. Not so. To me, this quote is so plain and so true. It’s a quote about fitting in. And I still feel like I don’t fit in anywhere I go.
I wish I knew everyone’s nickname, all their slang and all their sayings. Some days I wish I didn’t have the ability speak at all because everything I say seems to come out wrong. People are mad at me, I say stupid things, I can’t express myself. I just can’t fit in. I feel like this every time I’m at a party. I don’t know how to talk to people. I don’t know how to interact. I hate small talk. I’m sarcastic, but apparently I look very unsarcastic and when I break out the wit it horrifies people. They don’t get that I’m being funny and there are painful eternities of awkward silence. Sadly, sarcasm is how I deal with feeling awkward, so I whip out some more and it all just gets worse. Just cut out my tongue.
Every way to show affection, how to dress to fit the occasion. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve leaned in toward someone when greeting them, and I think we’re hugging, but really we’re supposed to… what? Kiss? But I barely know you! I’ve gotten dozens of smeared lips across my cheek as I go for the hug and they’re aiming for the kiss. OK, if we’re supposed to kiss, can we do it on the cheek? I’m not too keen on the mouth-kissing. I’m with Julia Roberts on that one. A little too intimate for some guy I see once a year. Who do you think you are, expecting a kiss from someone you barely know? You’re not Santa Claus, I’m not going to sit on your lap. Why would I kiss you? How about a hug instead? It’s so uncomfortable. It makes me feel miserable. My inner eight-year old flinches and squeals “eeew gross”. It makes me feel like the crazy one, but shouldn’t they be the one feeling bad? They of the casual lip-lock?
Everyone feels a little lost in high school but I thought I might get over this some day. Let’s see, mmm… twelve years later. Nope. I guess not.
This past weekend I spent Saturday and Sunday partying with friends and non-friends. The non-friend parties just plain wore me out. Friends of friends are the ones who exhaust me and send me to the ladies’ room, just so I can be alone for a minute. I sit in the quiet of my small porcelain sanctuary, head in my hands while saying to myself, “I wish I knew everyone’s nickname, all their slang and all their sayings…”
This is why I like blogging. It makes me feel like part of the world, yet I don’t have to actually talk to anyone! I can be incredibly social, posting every day, writing all about myself, bla, bla, bla, me, me, me. But I can do it in a gloriously antisocial way. All alone in my office, mouth shut, no talking, no greeting people, no dodging of the lip-smackers. Aah, blissful antisocial blogging. It’s heaven.