Holiday parties... they're draining me.
Parties this time of year are growing especially difficult... you know, because I'm alone... surrounded by couples and babies.
It's not that I WANT a baby, and honest to goodness, I've come to terms with the fact that I'll die alone.
I just HATE having to explain myself to others, and I especially hate the fucking pity others give me, regardless of how sincere it is or whatever the fuck-- it's pity, and I hate it.
There's a difference between pity and sympathy. I tolerate sympathy... even if it also makes me cry at times. Pity makes me cry... out of anger.
I was reading at this party today. My brother gave me his kindle, so I've been reading every single day for as long as I possibly can... even while I wait in the gym parking lot, that's how bad it is.
Anyway, I'm sitting at this party, completely engrossed by this book... not giving a shit about interacting with anyone.
Crying babies are being hauled away here and there... screaming pre-schoolers are jetting past me as they play their usual nerve-racking game of tag... older ladies gushing about babies or talking about Jesus/church/Virgin of Guadalupe festivities every other minute.
I sit in a chair, completely immobilized... mute.
And my wish is granted-- I'm given the power of invisibility.
Occasionally a lady or girl will come up to me and ask/offer a hug or kiss.
Then I feel sad.
I look up and I am completely alone, without a soul in the entire room-- the fancy living room, and no one has cared to inform me where they're heading.
I go back to reading.
Fuck it, if I'm needed I'll be called.
Then the boy sits next to me.
A few years back my cousin married a widow. The widow had two kids from her previous marriage, and were sort of having a difficult time blending in with our family.
One day, at a kid's party, I was doing my usual quiet-girl shit of sitting in an empty room, observing people-- smiling at anyone who stared too much at me, then reading some notes for school when NO ONE would look at me.
Two cousins had entered the room to sit with me as I highlighted away, and we chit-chatted a bit.
This is where the little boy, the widow's son, walked into the room and my cousins fell silent. They wouldn't acknowledge the boy, no one under the age of 30 would do it.
Me: I like your shoes! I hear they make you run faster.
The boy smiles... a huge smile, and looks up at me.
Me: I don't think I've ever seen you before (lie, I had). What's your name?
Boy: Justin.
Me: Oh wow! Really? Some of my favorite people are Justins. That's cool.
And so, I engaged the little kid into a conversation that ranged from shoes, to video games, to school, to childhood games.
When Justin sat next to me today, he did not say a word. He just looked into my face and smiled.
Me: I'm reading... this is some fun stuff.
Him: I know.
When I had first taken a seat, one of my idiot cousins had mocked him for catching him in the middle of a Candy Crush game. I told my cousin to shut the fuck up, because shittalking Candy Crush in my presence is forbidden... because the game is so fucking awesome. Justin smiled, "Yeah!"ed, and continued playing.
He proceeded to keep me quiet company at random times of the night after that... even bringing me little gifts like glow sticks and ribbons from time to time.
At one point, Justin brought me a shimmering baton.
Justin: I won this for you.
Now, shimmering batons aren't really my thing... maybe if it was a billy club I'd be all about it... but a shimmering baton? I wouldn't really know what to do with it (besides preside over some faaaabulous parade). Apparently, in the world of this adorable 13 year old boy, I DO know.
Me: Thank you... that's very nice of you.
Justin: You've always been nice to me.
And like that, the boy went on his merry way... probably to win more shimmery shit form the creepy clown lady my cousins hired for the party.
Random acts of kindness fill my heart... and make me forget how badly holiday/family parties make me want to jump off a cliff.
Parties this time of year are growing especially difficult... you know, because I'm alone... surrounded by couples and babies.
It's not that I WANT a baby, and honest to goodness, I've come to terms with the fact that I'll die alone.
I just HATE having to explain myself to others, and I especially hate the fucking pity others give me, regardless of how sincere it is or whatever the fuck-- it's pity, and I hate it.
There's a difference between pity and sympathy. I tolerate sympathy... even if it also makes me cry at times. Pity makes me cry... out of anger.
I was reading at this party today. My brother gave me his kindle, so I've been reading every single day for as long as I possibly can... even while I wait in the gym parking lot, that's how bad it is.
Anyway, I'm sitting at this party, completely engrossed by this book... not giving a shit about interacting with anyone.
Crying babies are being hauled away here and there... screaming pre-schoolers are jetting past me as they play their usual nerve-racking game of tag... older ladies gushing about babies or talking about Jesus/church/Virgin of Guadalupe festivities every other minute.
I sit in a chair, completely immobilized... mute.
And my wish is granted-- I'm given the power of invisibility.
Occasionally a lady or girl will come up to me and ask/offer a hug or kiss.
Then I feel sad.
I look up and I am completely alone, without a soul in the entire room-- the fancy living room, and no one has cared to inform me where they're heading.
I go back to reading.
Fuck it, if I'm needed I'll be called.
Then the boy sits next to me.
A few years back my cousin married a widow. The widow had two kids from her previous marriage, and were sort of having a difficult time blending in with our family.
One day, at a kid's party, I was doing my usual quiet-girl shit of sitting in an empty room, observing people-- smiling at anyone who stared too much at me, then reading some notes for school when NO ONE would look at me.
Two cousins had entered the room to sit with me as I highlighted away, and we chit-chatted a bit.
This is where the little boy, the widow's son, walked into the room and my cousins fell silent. They wouldn't acknowledge the boy, no one under the age of 30 would do it.
Me: I like your shoes! I hear they make you run faster.
The boy smiles... a huge smile, and looks up at me.
Me: I don't think I've ever seen you before (lie, I had). What's your name?
Boy: Justin.
Me: Oh wow! Really? Some of my favorite people are Justins. That's cool.
And so, I engaged the little kid into a conversation that ranged from shoes, to video games, to school, to childhood games.
When Justin sat next to me today, he did not say a word. He just looked into my face and smiled.
Me: I'm reading... this is some fun stuff.
Him: I know.
When I had first taken a seat, one of my idiot cousins had mocked him for catching him in the middle of a Candy Crush game. I told my cousin to shut the fuck up, because shittalking Candy Crush in my presence is forbidden... because the game is so fucking awesome. Justin smiled, "Yeah!"ed, and continued playing.
He proceeded to keep me quiet company at random times of the night after that... even bringing me little gifts like glow sticks and ribbons from time to time.
At one point, Justin brought me a shimmering baton.
Justin: I won this for you.
Now, shimmering batons aren't really my thing... maybe if it was a billy club I'd be all about it... but a shimmering baton? I wouldn't really know what to do with it (besides preside over some faaaabulous parade). Apparently, in the world of this adorable 13 year old boy, I DO know.
Me: Thank you... that's very nice of you.
Justin: You've always been nice to me.
And like that, the boy went on his merry way... probably to win more shimmery shit form the creepy clown lady my cousins hired for the party.
Random acts of kindness fill my heart... and make me forget how badly holiday/family parties make me want to jump off a cliff.
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