Panic Rising
So we're having a "huge" cocktail party at the store on Friday. I put "huge" in quotations because, honestly, I have no idea who will come, how many will come, and all I can hear in my head is this question:
What the mother lovin' hell have I done?
I hate parties. The bigger they are the more I hate 'em. Having to make small talk with more than two people I don't know in one evening is just enough to make me want to crawl out of my own skin. If you've ever seen me in action at such an event, you will surely be dying to say "But Angelina, you seemed totally comfortable and were talking to everyone. I can't believe it's as bad as you say." That is the single most frustrating thing about normal people, they assume that everyone wears their discomfort on their sleeves. I have spent a life time trying to blend with the crowd and not seem completely batty. I've gotten very good at it.
Seriously. I'm very good at making you believe that I am totally comfortable when what I really want to do is pull out my arm hairs one by one*. Some might call that a very fine ability to lie. I call it a well honed ability to appear completely at ease so others aren't made uncomfortable by my discomfort. It is very self serving as making other people uncomfortable just makes me feel more like an outcast.
Here's a really fine example of my small talk skill: I'm sitting with a married couple I have just met an hour ago and I ask "So, how long have you guys been married?" They've been married for twenty years. So I say "Wow, That's awesome!" Pause, while a worrisome thought occurs to me which I spew out "Hey, you aren't about to get a divorce or anything, are you?"
Exactly one hour into meeting them and I'm already asking them something considered by most standards to be off the charts personal. Right above "So, have you gotten a boob job recently?".
That's what happens when I'm actually comfortable socially. I spew stuff. Random stuff. Chilling thoughts. All kinds of dark alleyways in my conversations open up and suck us into party-worthy discussions such as "How do we define ourselves sexually and at what point are your sexual practices a matter for public concern?"
When I'm uncomfortable I tend to seem like a breezy person capable of inhaling an entire bowl of chips while I pretend I'm in my element. Snacking helps ease the burden of being sociable. Another indication of my true state of mind is in my hem twisting.
Never heard of hem twisting? I'm sure tons of other people do this too, right? RIGHT?
I twist the hems of my shirts around my fingers quite often. Really hard, so that my shirt hem becomes a finger tourniquet. The more uncomfortable or anxious I am the more constantly I twist my hem around my fingers. I often don't know I'm doing it. If anyone else has ever observed this habit, they've been kind enough not to point it out. I work really hard every single day of my life to control this compulsive habit. It bothers me that I do it but I've been doing it since I was a kid and it hurts my head to not do it when I have the urge to do it. Which is most of the time.
So we're having a cocktail party on Friday and I don't want to come to it. Can I bail on my own cocktail party? I only decided to do it because it's what most people would expect. Some big send off with a big sale. It's what at least five different people asked if I was going to do before we decided to do it.
Isn't there a back door in my life that I can just slip out of quietly?
There's a really long list riding on my shoulder too. I'm doing my best to ignore it but it keeps throwing peanut shells at my head.
*This will especially impress anyone who's seen my arm hairs which are plentiful and long.
Seriously. I'm very good at making you believe that I am totally comfortable when what I really want to do is pull out my arm hairs one by one*. Some might call that a very fine ability to lie. I call it a well honed ability to appear completely at ease so others aren't made uncomfortable by my discomfort. It is very self serving as making other people uncomfortable just makes me feel more like an outcast.
Here's a really fine example of my small talk skill: I'm sitting with a married couple I have just met an hour ago and I ask "So, how long have you guys been married?" They've been married for twenty years. So I say "Wow, That's awesome!" Pause, while a worrisome thought occurs to me which I spew out "Hey, you aren't about to get a divorce or anything, are you?"
Exactly one hour into meeting them and I'm already asking them something considered by most standards to be off the charts personal. Right above "So, have you gotten a boob job recently?".
That's what happens when I'm actually comfortable socially. I spew stuff. Random stuff. Chilling thoughts. All kinds of dark alleyways in my conversations open up and suck us into party-worthy discussions such as "How do we define ourselves sexually and at what point are your sexual practices a matter for public concern?"
When I'm uncomfortable I tend to seem like a breezy person capable of inhaling an entire bowl of chips while I pretend I'm in my element. Snacking helps ease the burden of being sociable. Another indication of my true state of mind is in my hem twisting.
Never heard of hem twisting? I'm sure tons of other people do this too, right? RIGHT?
I twist the hems of my shirts around my fingers quite often. Really hard, so that my shirt hem becomes a finger tourniquet. The more uncomfortable or anxious I am the more constantly I twist my hem around my fingers. I often don't know I'm doing it. If anyone else has ever observed this habit, they've been kind enough not to point it out. I work really hard every single day of my life to control this compulsive habit. It bothers me that I do it but I've been doing it since I was a kid and it hurts my head to not do it when I have the urge to do it. Which is most of the time.
So we're having a cocktail party on Friday and I don't want to come to it. Can I bail on my own cocktail party? I only decided to do it because it's what most people would expect. Some big send off with a big sale. It's what at least five different people asked if I was going to do before we decided to do it.
Isn't there a back door in my life that I can just slip out of quietly?
There's a really long list riding on my shoulder too. I'm doing my best to ignore it but it keeps throwing peanut shells at my head.
*This will especially impress anyone who's seen my arm hairs which are plentiful and long.
