This holiday, like many, my brain downloads. Between the fall show and the musical, two
weeks off, no real planning, my choices are limited. I can replay the semester
until I’m certain everything is wrong
and work myself up once again over the budget, I can let go and move forward,
or I can just sit and stare at the TV for a few days and let the thoughts
download.
That’s what I did. And the topic of friendships kept
cropping up.
And here’s my story, told in delightful, unrelated chunks
and chips with the occasional rant.
Harper’s friend was here yesterday, and said “My mom wants
to go to coffee with you. She feels bad that I spend so much time over here and
she doesn’t know you.”
I smiled politely and said “Tell her thank you.”
She persisted , “My mom really wants to get to know you.”
“She’ll be disappointed.”
She sat there blinking, and I felt obligated to continue.
“I don’t have friends. I have colleagues, I have
acquaintances, I have a husband and children. No friends. It’s ok, it’s by design. I suck at it. I don’t
like people. If she wants to meet me for coffee I’ll be rude, or say something
wrong. “ I smiled and sipped my coffee on my chair in my home. Where I like to
be.
This exchange coupled with Genoa being back from her first
semester of college to encounter the same
high school bullshit she left started a download.
Not a sad one. I’m not sad. Occasionally Jim and I wish we
had friends so we could have people over for dinner, and we’ve made conscious strides
in that direction! I think we may have a couple of “couple” friendships. But
like all friendships, they take maintenance and time and people have lives and
it’s hard.
You know that Meme: A good friend will bail you out of a
jail, a best friend is in jail beside you?
Only once in my life have I been threatened with jail. In
college, I was pulled over and received two tickets—one for not having
insurance (which I did, it was just in Colorado and I was in Tx and that upset
them) and an expired inspection sticker.
No biggie. I took the two papers the officer handed me and plopped them on my
bulletin board. I then forgot there were two, and only attended one of the
court dates. The second court date was when I went to South Padre for Spring
Break. As much as I like to say “I went to South Padre instead of court” it was
just a mistake. A warrant was issued for my arrest! I panicked, and immediately
went to the Wortham Theatre Lobby to seek advice. Because that made sense to me at the time. Curtis
said “Run”. I called my friend Paul, who said “I’ll loan you the money” without
hesitation. When I paid him back after the second court date, he looked
completely shocked and said “I never expected to get it back.”
THAT is a friend.
Friends feed you. Again, in college, I shared a house with
two-and later three-other theatre kids. For my birthday they bought me
groceries. Seriously.
I have no recollection of being anything other than a dick
to any of these people, but they took care of me.
I know what it’s like to not be invited. To have people stop
talking or change the subject when you join. To know there is a party you,
specifically, were not invited to.
Or a wedding.
Three of them, to be exact.
The first two I kinda got, I am a jerk who cannot shut her
mouth, and I had been mouthing off about the groom (#1) or the bride (#2) for
quite some time. I did not like them, they were not good enough for my friends to
marry.
So they didn’t invite me.
The third one hurt, however, as I have no recollection of
deserving that snub.
I have a Magic Santa’s Bag of high school snubbing memories,
but who cares? We all do.
The point is that I just accepted it and I’ve created a life
without friends. I know for a fact (Jenny) will be offended, because we are friends, yes, but she’s busy and I’m busy and
she knows I love her and I’m not talking about her. I guess I have one friend.
Both of my kids have my affliction. Neither makes friends
easily. Harp has really made strides toward seeking out friendships, I admire
that in her. G is like me in that she latches on to the two or three she has.
She doesn’t function well in groups, and that’s genetic. I go two ways at parties: I am the loudest
entertainer there or I slump in a corner with a glass of wine with the ONE
other person who feels the same way I do. CASE AND POINT: THE COOKIE EXCHANGE.
My across the street neighbor is relentlessly friendly. She knows everyone
on the block, has thrown block parties in her backyard, and has a cookie
exchange every Christmas. Several years ago my husband forced me to attend the cookie exchange, declaring that I needed
friends. And bullying me into a holiday cookie exchange was his way of helping.
So I reluctantly attended, and slumped at the counter with a glass of wine with
the One Other Teacher at the party, and bitched about our administrators. So…I
made one new “friend”, but not really as I only see her once a year.
Except this year, when I went to Lannie’s Clocktower to
watch Indy Fire’s Burlesque debut instead
of attend the cookie exchange. I took my children. Because I don’t have friends. The dates happened to crash, and I’m so
socially retarded I’m unsure if I should apologize for missing the cookie
exchange. I doubt anybody noticed.
Merry Christmas. Who Needs Friends?
