If I Don’t Know You Then I Don’t Like You

I have some real crazy social issues. Some are paradoxical: I don't like meeting people but I want more friends.

Every time I get a new job I have to meet new people. It's the worst. I hate them all. Until after I know them. And it is like a swimming pool situation. I like to ease myself in. None of this cannonball stuff. Actually I like jumping right into swimming pools. It's more like a cesstub. The most I am ever really gonna get myself in is like knee deep. And I will not enjoy it for a real long time.

Anyway I don't really like people I don't know. And I hate when people try talking to me when I am trying to be all pathetic and solo. Quit interrupting my solid wall of antisocialsm (not like the Berlin Wall but like a wall of anti-social-ism). When people come up to me and start force talking to me, I am usually pretty good at wearing my "Blagh go away can't you see I am trying to be all morose and friendless" face. People though are really bad at seeing it, at least the approachers who thrust their words into my unwilling ears. Don't they see my clinched teeth and annoyed look. Don't they feel my unresponsiveness? Don't they hear my dismissive 'uh huhs as I try typing stuff on my keyboard or eating my turkey sandwich with Munster cheese and avoiding eye contact. Eye contact is the devil.

But I clandestinely (BTW I picked up the word clandestinely years ago from the Wicked soundtrack and love using it. Is it weird that I know the first time I learned a lot of words?) I know that it is good for me. I need to take my medicine when it presents itself. So I usually reluctantly but alertly crawl out of my metaphorical hole (like the groundhog) and begin interacting with ugh—new people. Usually it turns out I eventually like people when I get to know them. In fact most of my closest friendships began this exact way. Yep all of them except for Rachel. I force talked my way into her life. I know she wasn't about to start talking to me. I really like my coworkers, especially the nosy ones who forced their way in.

Which gets me to my next point. How I met Rachel. Our mutual friend Camilla had a RiffTrax party. I don't normally go to parties. Because parties are a merely social affair—socializing = no good. But this one had a movie to watch and I already knew almost everyone there. Also I had this really strong feeling I should go. Any Mormons reading this will know what that feeling is called. Anyway not to get too preachy but I couldn't ignore this feeling. So I went. RiffTrax was nice. Afterward some people stayed and talked about movies. Rachel was sitting at the table. I was already in love with her from seeing her towering in the back behind everyone. She was the reason I stayed. She was only waiting around for everyone to leave so she could be with her friend Camilla. She was playing with a water bottle while everyone talked about movies (she's seen like 6 movies in her life). I couldn't tell her I loved her and wanted to marry her on the first sentence. Some women frown on that sort of honesty. I had the gumption to ask her if she were trying to make a tornado in a bottle. She was. And she was embarrassed. She was pretty good at avoiding conversation and she had no idea I wanted to marry that face.

I guess the point is. Wait what's the point? Something about how we should give people a chance or something like that. Never assume. Never surrender? Never mind. I used to want to be a rock. And an island (can you be both?). But you know what. Islands do cry. They cry on the inside. You just can't see it because islands have no tear ducts.

Also if you are reading this and I don't know you (why are you read a stranger's blog creeper?) then I don't like you. But that doesn't mean we can't be friends. It just means I'll fight you tooth and nail while you try to befriend me.