Happy 6 AM, Lovelys! I’m surprisingly awake for having drunk (drank) a third of a bottle of vodka last night. However, I AM contemplating crawling back into bed after completing this post. Today I will address the fact that I essentially have no friends, the reasons I believe this to be true, and the why this doesn’t really bother me. (although I feel like it SHOULD bother me.)
I suppose I cannot say I have NO friends- there are certainly a few people I could call up that would probably “hang” with me if I asked them to- and my friend Carebear is the person I consider to be my only friend, even though I haven’t seen her in over a year. (She did call when she found out I was fired) I am well aware that where any lack of friends is concerned, I myself am solely to blame. I will tell you why:
I don’t answer my phone.
Perhaps it is the fact that I was not allowed to answer the phone at home while I was growing up, or the fact that a remarkable amount of my phone calls are bill collectors, but I have obtained a slight malevolence toward my cellular device. It matters not that I have changed the ringtone to the opening music of Law and Order SVU; when my phone rings, I feel no desire whatsoever to push the little green button and lift the phone to my ear. I have a secret foreboding if I speak into a phone, my voice will somehow resemble that of the demon-possesed Emily Rose on the other end. And as most normal people prefer NOT to have entire conversations in text, I have forfeited friends simply by not answering their calls. No matter that I will text them endlessly if they wish to chat.
Girls don’t generally like me.
I don’t necessarily know this fact to be true, but it certainly seems that when I try to be friendly to aquaintances (check out Party or Bust) I am avoided like a leper, or in the least, my approach is received with trepidation. That is not to say that I’ve not made friends with co-workers at my various places of business, however, those girls all seem to have their own lives, with no time for a Sparkle. And as my Rockstar would not appreciate the many guys who would like to be my “friend”, (or as he puts it, “You know they just want to fuck you, right?”) I am resolved to settling for my Rockstar as my source of merrymaking. (Which I’m completely content with)
Groups of people are scary. (More than 2 is a group)
My one friend Carebear is the complete opposite of me in this sense. She thrives on getting all her friends together in one place, such as having a girls night, or getting together for drinks with her coupled friends. For me, I would much rather be thrown into a vat of boiling hot dog poo. I find it difficult to have a meaningful conversation with one person when another person who is not me insists on chiming in at various intervals. Perhaps it is because I like to maintain eye-contact with the person I’m speaking to, and when there is more than one, I get dizzy. When I am one-on-one with a person, I can converse infinitely on any variety of subject with that person, but as soon as another person is added to the conversation, my vocal chords immediately shut down and I become a mute. It matters not if I know both people. Yes, I realize there may be underlying issues here.
People are assholes.
My making this statement should clear up any remaining queries you all may have as to why I have no friends. But allow me to annotate: I generally attempt to be kind and sparkley to any person I come in contact with- however, if judgement is cast upon me in any fashion, I immediately shut down said sparkle and cease to be interested in further aquaintance with the judger. This may be a kind of judgement in it’s own way, but friends are supposed to love you for who you are, not for who they want you to be. And since sex and boobs and saying what you think can be offensive to those with more delicate sensibilities, I tend to procure much more judgements than I do friends.
Now I will tell you why I am not bothered by my lack of chums: I would prefer to read a book than talk about the latest hot guy at work; I like to spend time with my Beloveds, and don’t want to feel that I’m neglecting them by going out with friends when I could be home with them, and any girls my age usually have their own children and most seem to have forgotten that they were a person BEFORE they were a mother, and I do not find constant chatter of animal crackers amusing.
Yes, there are occassions when I believe it would be lovely to have a group of gals you could always count on like in Sex and the City, but I suppose until I can find some girls who don’t want to talk on the phone, who will love me even though my boobs are bigger, who don’t want to have a girl’s night, and who will let me eat all the french fries without thinking, “She’s going to get fat”, I will have to amuse myself with my 13 other personalities. And when my Rockstar dies, I shall be one of those incredibly talented hermit-types.
P.S. I Do consider all my bloggy people to be my friends, though you would probably all hate me in real life. XOXO