Meeting new people is just terrible. Do those first few moments ever go well? There is another young man, who started in the PICU at the same time Justin did. They are going through an internship together, and so, see quite a bit of each other. He has a lovely little wife (who is taller than me) and a new baby boy. The unit decided to have a barbecue together and invite all the families. I nearly bounded into the car. Friend! Adult! Conversation! my brain silently cheered.
Upon arrival I met this sweet woman and put my best face forward; because who would ever want to start a relationship with someone as real as we are in the ick.
Yet, somehow the conversation kept turning me into that girl. I couldn't stop it. Probably because I am that girl. But I don't mean it like that.
You know that girl:
- The dancer/artist who thinks about space and time as if they were actual things.
- She has an MFA, and a BA, and BFA, and hasn't had a concrete, rational thought since high school.
- She teaches Pilates, focuses on her breathing, and eats chopped salads with kale in them for lunch.
- Her daughter is gluten free.
- And dairy free.
- And soy free.
- Cause we're just that cool.
I hate that girl.
And she is me.
Every time my mouth started moving my brain wanted to interject:
- Yes, I'm a dancer, but I watch football, so it's ok. I'm not weird or anything.
- Yes, I have too many art degrees, but I don't think I'm better than you because I read Kant. (In fact, I might be a little worse.)
- Yes, I teach Pilates and eat kale, but I also play Battle for Middle Earth for 3 hour stretches, and I consume Swiss Rolls and pizza. Kind of a lot. So we're cool. Because I'm not really Kale Girl.
- Yes, my daughter is gluten free/soy free/milk free/peanut free/egg free/latex free/cashew free, but it's because she is medically allergic to all those things. It's not like I think I'm doing her any favors by not letting her eat macaroni and cheese. I want to be the junk food mom, but I also want my baby to live to see her second birthday.
But you can't talk like that because you sound conflicted and defensive. And I hate that girl too.
Maybe this is why I have no friends.
It made me feel just a little bit better when my husband started doing the same thing. We were talking about incredible desserts we had experienced (because sugar is always good for conversation), and he mentioned that we had the opportunity to devour the most awesome invention in human history while vacationing in Maui: mochi ice cream. (Oh, if only I had the time to describe the inexplicable joy of mochi ice cream to you. The pages of this blog could never sustain such delight.)
My usually cool husband, stuttered and paused. "I mean, this was our first vacation of any kind in three years. We don't do that kind of trip often... or ever really. We scrimped and saved and got a tax return. I had just graduated, and it was our anniversary. It's not like... we're... you know... people who go to Maui or anything."
Right. We're not those people.
We just are a little bit. Just this one time.
Meeting new people sucks.
I wish I could just be honest: I dance, I teach pilates, I eat health food, I have a daughter who can't have gluten, and I go to Maui. But I'm not that girl. I'm really just like you...
Who are you again? I missed it.
No comments:
Post a Comment