(no subject)

Poo on the stupid post office and its stupid 10 to 3 window for getting passports. Poo I say. Poo on being unable to sleep and crying at the drop of a hat because of it. Poo on work for being, well, work.

I wrote a long passage about liking and being liked and attempts to become liked and it all felt awkward and unwieldy, like I was forcing the words or the sentiments out into the air before they were capable of surviving on their own. So I stopped and started all over.

I don't have the skillsets to make friends, I think. The statement looks, in turns, like bragging or selfpity and it probably is a healthy portion of both. I'm somewhat pleased by my curmudgeonly streak, I'm pleased that I'm no longer a person who feels compelled to surround herself with people she's not entirely sure she likes, simply to be surrounded by someone.

But as all things do, this returns to sour grapes. Am I not surrounded not because I choose not to be, but because no one would even if I wanted to be? Do the majority of my attempts at interaction with the world result in rejection, or is it simply that I'm more skilled in recognizing and internalizing the rejections than I am the acceptances?

Livejournal vexes me some days, feeling full of missed connections, people I could know better butforsomething, or people I tried to know better and fell short of succeed. Other days, I get lovely, encouraging cards in the mail and feel like the world's become more real and more welcoming for these tenuous connections across state lines.

And I think different lifestyles afford different kinds of connections, that were I poly or pagan or academic or a member of some more concrete group than adult survivors of themselves, I'd know better how to make connections and sustain them, but since I am neither the aforementioned nor in any other group that I can think of as having concrete borders, I don't have that outlet/option. And it's not that i'm a special butterfly or a unique snowflake, I think it might just be all the groups I might be members of are the kind of groups that make a point of not coming together.

I think I was going somewhere with this, but I've either driven right past or forgotten entirely where I was going. I am now going to sulk on the couch and feel guilty about Light doing the dishes. Whee.

(no subject)

Poo on the stupid post office and its stupid 10 to 3 window for getting passports. Poo I say. Poo on being unable to sleep and crying at the drop of a hat because of it. Poo on work for being, well, work.

I wrote a long passage about liking and being liked and attempts to become liked and it all felt awkward and unwieldy, like I was forcing the words or the sentiments out into the air before they were capable of surviving on their own. So I stopped and started all over.

I don't have the skillsets to make friends, I think. The statement looks, in turns, like bragging or selfpity and it probably is a healthy portion of both. I'm somewhat pleased by my curmudgeonly streak, I'm pleased that I'm no longer a person who feels compelled to surround herself with people she's not entirely sure she likes, simply to be surrounded by someone.

But as all things do, this returns to sour grapes. Am I not surrounded not because I choose not to be, but because no one would even if I wanted to be? Do the majority of my attempts at interaction with the world result in rejection, or is it simply that I'm more skilled in recognizing and internalizing the rejections than I am the acceptances?

Livejournal vexes me some days, feeling full of missed connections, people I could know better butforsomething, or people I tried to know better and fell short of succeed. Other days, I get lovely, encouraging cards in the mail and feel like the world's become more real and more welcoming for these tenuous connections across state lines.

And I think different lifestyles afford different kinds of connections, that were I poly or pagan or academic or a member of some more concrete group than adult survivors of themselves, I'd know better how to make connections and sustain them, but since I am neither the aforementioned nor in any other group that I can think of as having concrete borders, I don't have that outlet/option. And it's not that i'm a special butterfly or a unique snowflake, I think it might just be all the groups I might be members of are the kind of groups that make a point of not coming together.

I think I was going somewhere with this, but I've either driven right past or forgotten entirely where I was going. I am now going to sulk on the couch and feel guilty about Light doing the dishes. Whee.