The seasons are changing and I’m again coming to the realisation that I spend entirely too much time alone, or in the company of my cat. In times of stress, when others are all “LET’S DO SHOTS AND KARAOKE”, I hibernate. Also, as I get older, my circle of accessible friends shrinks as they partner up and sprog. Oh, and as I realise that I do not share the same interests and that going to ‘events’ is frequently unpleasant and aggravating.
Vague malaise mixed with ambivalence makes for a very dull Megan indeed.
This is timely, though my friends would never be so judgmental (to my face, anyway).
It would be nice to mainline British tv drama with a partner, mind, but that would require leaving the house to meet people first.
It’s pathetic, but I started listening to an audiobook called Why Is the Penis Shaped Like That?, a book that, if anything, taught me some excellent puns using the word ‘seminal’ and reminded me that, oh yeah, I need to get laid.
(This is not a lightning bolt realisation. And apologies for being slightly more personally crude than usual.)
Unfortunately, I am not one for casual hook-ups. I don’t trust people easily. Hell, I don’t like most people very much. And I’m a bit of a prude. And see above about hating most social situations.
Basically, I want a set-up like one that Helena Bonham Carter and Tim Burton allegedly had: Spouses who live in adjacent houses/apartments so I can have my own space and he can have his and we can be mutually understanding of each other’s need for quality alone time. And sleep in the same bed sometimes. And mock poor stage makeup on HD local news broadcasts. And appreciate how hilarious very angry cats can be.
(Of course, I want kids too, which would be complicated in separate living quarters. Eh, maybe I should just be very rich and have a mansion with many separate wings.)
And it’s not like I don’t go out. I spent a good two hours at a café on Saturday…writing, by myself. I travel a fair bit and…can go a full day without talking to anyone. I have breakfast at the same place every third Wednesday…and sometimes the grizzled old pothead cashier remembers my name and asks me about my bike.
So, yeah, my shyness and resting bitch face are really not helping matters.
This is not exactly the week to break molds, since I will be at work a zillion hours and dealing with Animation Festival near-chaos, but maybe it’s finally time to make the call to that shrink for whom I’ve had a referral since July and can’t entirely afford to see? I know that trust is a big issue for me, as is getting close to people, because of lifelong abandonment issues, but what do I do with that self-awareness?
This is an unusually personal blog, actually, and I hesitate to post it. But I will. It’s getting to be like the ne(e)(r)diest, worst personal ad, so I’ll add this Caitlin Moran quote too:
For most people [under the age of 40], they see that this is a time where what really makes a man ‘alpha’ is avoiding pugilism (the legal system is a drag, plus expensive), being amusing (we’re sitting on top of 50 years’ worth of amazing sitcoms. If you haven’t picked up a couple of techniques for cracking a joke by now, you look a trifle slow-witted), and, as a bonus, knowing how to reinstall Adobe AIR when Twitter goes down on your laptop. Speaking for all my lady friends, we all want some geeky, nerdy, polite and ridiculous mate who we can sit at home with, slagging off all the tossers, and waiting for our baked potatoes to be ready. Who, obviously, is additionally so hot for us he regularly crawls across the front room on his hands and knees, croaking, ‘I must have sex with you now, or go literally insane’. Compared to that, Prince Charming looks like a total donk.