Ever since I hit that awkward post-pubescent age, I have felt indescribably uncomfortable in social situations. I'd readily call myself a "wallflower" and normally, being a wallflower doesn't bother me. I'm content to befriend most walls at parties and stick to the outskirts of the room, nonchalantly making a cynical comment here and there to whomever is close by. Most of these comments are terribly misunderstood and seem to only solidify the notion that most of the party-goers think I'm a little off my rocker. But that doesn't really bother me either. The people who know me and like me, respect my sarcastic sense of humor and usually can relate to it. If you don't get the joke I just made about not wanting to see that girl's "cheeks", then obviously we can't be friends.
If wallhuggingatparties was an Olympic sport I'd dominate. I'm ridiculously good at it, but I've maintained my armature status. Which means I'd take the gold medal in the Olympics, no sweat.
The only problem with relying on wallhuggingatparties, is that there are no walls when you are outside, at a cook out party. Usually there's a tent, a grill, a bunch of randomly placed chairs (usually in the center of the action), and that awkward old lady that keeps tracking you down to talk about the days when she was your age. You're not even sure you know this lady, but she seems to remember you from when you were "This small!" This little old lady can find you much easier when you're at a party that's outside, with no corners to mysteriously disappear around.
Of course I got stuck talking to such an old lady at a party this weekend. I have no problem with old ladies. I kind of adore them actually. My own grandmother is like the funniest person I've ever met. She actually scolded me for not having a boyfriend and basically assigned me the task of bringing a boyfriend to the next social gathering. But I have a particularly hard time talking to people I don't know for any length of time. And I have a strange but strong aversion to small talk. I fucking hate small talk. For serious. Being forced to small talk (because I'm too polite to refuse) is like being poked in the eye with one of those silly mechanical lead pencils we all love to hate. The lead stays in there FOREVER.
So at this party I was worried that my tattoo on my back was going to get sunburned so I approached my aunt (who was hosting the party) and asked if I could borrow some sun screen. She said yes and went to grab me some from inside the house, leaving me with this old woman who was supposed to be my uncle's mother (my uncle is related to me by marriage).
The conversation started off innocently. She told me I was beautiful and I modestly blushed. She mentioned how she remembered me from when I was a little girl. She asked me where I was going to school and what I was majoring in. Questions that I can answer with no problem. I'm able to state the answers with minimal awkwardness. But once the words "Becker college in Worcester, Animal Science, and something to do with Residence Life" came out of my mouth, I just stood there, nodding and smiling, and feeling awkward.
That's when she started telling me about her entire life thus far. I stood there the entire time, politely listening and trying not to let the grimace surface on my face, not knowing how to politely end the conversation. Finally I used the excuse that I had to go give my aunt her sunscreen back. Because yes, my aunt had returned with the sunscreen and then left again. And yes, I awkwardly applied the sunscreen to my back with one hand while the woman continued to talk to me. It didn't occur to me that I should have used this moment as an opportunity to excuse myself so I could use a mirror to apply the sunscreen. I'm kind of thick headed.
I was so lucky when the cat showed up. The neighbor's cat sauntered over and flopped down at my feet. She was the funniest cat ever. She kept growling at me while she was affectionately rubbing her face on me and cuddling up to me. The best part however, was that I was able to distance myself from the rest of the guests and occupy myself with playing with the little cat. Who I named "friendcat."
When it was finally time to go, my mom and I got into the car and she scolded me for separating myself from the party.
Mom: "That was so awkward of you."
Me: "I felt even more awkward sitting there, not talking!"
Mom: "Well at least you weren't separated from the group then. You could have just sat there quietly with everyone else and interjected something once in a while." (She's so silly to think that anything I would have been able to interject would have been appreciated by anyone)
My mom has always been the extrovert to my introvert. She's such an outgoing "life of the party" type of person. So she just doesn't get my dire need to stay out of the spotlight. Fuck staying out of the spotlight. I have a dire need to not be around too many people at a time in general.
Sometimes I just don't feel like I can relate to other people. Isn't that why I chose Animal Science as my major? I'm just more comfortable when I'm talking to a wall or a cat at a party. And that's when I can get myself to go in the first place. I like to think that, on occasion, I'm smart enough to not put myself in these positions in the first place...
