One is Silver and the Other's Gold

It recently came to my attention that I've now been living in Virginia for over a year and have yet to make a single friend. Which sounds sad when you actually come out and say it. It's not that I don't have any friends, it's just that I don't have any friends here. Mostly, I'd rather read or watch TV than try to be social. I can go several days without craving human contact, which means that my motivation to meet new people is pretty low. But my social life lately basically revolves around Boyfriend and his friends and family, and that isn't entirely fair to Boyfriend.

The problem is that making friends is hard. And exhausting. And terrifying. I have to find a place to go, work up the energy to go out, figure out how to introduce myself to someone, make small talk, and eventually exchange contact information. Then I have to wait for them to call me or somehow figure out a way to call them and invite them to something. Which involves coming up with an activity I think might be mutually enjoyable and trying to find that balance between calling too soon and waiting too long. And every single one of these steps requires a ton of energy and a million opportunities for me to embarrass myself and I usually end up paralyzed by social anxiety and decide to just watch some TV instead. Buffy can't make fun of me.

Realizing that I've been stuck in this pattern for over a year sent me spiraling into a bit of a depression, hence the recent increase in book reviews. But moping around won't make me any friends. And those hypothetical future friends will be worth the ridiculous amount of anxiety I must overcome to meet them. Right?

Boyfriend is going to be out of town for the entire month of June, and I'm going to use that time to try and meet people. This has not gone well in the past. I left an alumni happy hour in tears because I couldn't think of one single thing to say to anyone. I occasionally go out with my co-workers, but usually end up listening to conversations instead of joining them. I joined a book club but didn't want to talk about the same things as the other members. I tried to join a ballet class, but I only made it to one class because getting home and eating dinner before 7 consistently is really freaking hard.

But the time has come to pick myself up and try again. I discovered a board game night at a local game store that looks feasible. They have weekly meetings that go until 10, so I'm making an effort to go to that every week.

I actually kicked off this Make New Friends project last night when I inadvertently scheduled myself for two social activities. A coworker was leaving to join Teach For America which necessitated a happy hour, and I had agreed to attend my first game night.

The happy hour was pretty much a failure. I got a glass of wine and tried to join a conversation, any conversation. Eventually three separate conversations had sprung up around me, and none of them involved me. I tried to at least pay attention to one so I could jump in. But I have so little in common with the people I work with and such a vast inability to operate in a group setting that this never happened.

I'm great one-on-one. But throw another person or two into the conversation and it takes most of my mental capability to follow the conversation, try and come up with something to say, and double check that it's not stupid or awkward. This process takes long enough that I usually miss my opportunity to speak. Sometimes I can keep up for a couple of minutes, but it never lasts. It's much easier for me to express myself in writing, since I have time to read through and edit myself a few times before anyone else sees it. I can complete ideas without being interrupted and follow my train of thought wherever it leads.

Anyone who's ever gotten high with me can tell you that I stop talking. I simply lose the ability to both follow the conversation around me and contribute to it. And the THC-induced paranoia only increases my natural anxiety that I will say or do something stupid. Which is ridiculous when everyone is high and doing/saying stupid things, but there you go. The self-hatred this situation inspires in me is a big part of why I no longer smoke. (The fact that I would also lose my job helps me maintain that decision.)

Unfortunately, that same self-hatred is now causing me to avoid social situations altogether. That's not a good thing.

Anyway, the happy hour was a bust, but game night was better. I learned a new game with a complicated enough strategy that it carried the conversation through the night. I didn't have to invent small talk, because I could ask what might happen if I played here instead of there. I met three people and exchanged emails with one. Less than an hour after I got home, he sent me information about a few other board game nights in the area. So I'm calling this one a success. And I think I actually managed to make a friend. Good conversation + shared interest + invitation to future activity = friend, right?

I think the board game night is going to be more successful than any of my previous endeavors. I didn't find myself awkwardly at a loss during conversation, and I didn't want to smack anyone I met. And it fits into my schedule pretty nicely. So I'll keep this up and see where it leads.

Buffy Drinking Game

Found these rules for a Buffy Drinking Game. Who wants to play with me?

• Whenever you see pleather
• Every time Xander says something “pithy”
• Every time everyone’s deep in research
• Every time Cordelia struts 
• Whenever Buffy restyles her hair
• Whenever Angel is ‘dark and broody’ 
• Whenever furniture is broken
• Whenever the sun is referenced 
• Whenever a vampire inexplicably travels during the daytime
• Whenever there’s a mass crowd of people running
• Whenever the cast has a calm peaceful dialogue in a cemetery 
•  Whenever someone says “Vamp”
• Whenever a cast member adds a “Y” to the end of an adjective creating a new word
• Whenever Giles removes his glasses
• Whenever Buffy pouts
• Every time a political agenda is presented
• Whenever Buffy touches her lover’s face
• Whenever Buffy misses a scholastic event
• Whenever overwhelming symbolism is portrayed 

Road Rage

The road from the metro to my apartment is about three miles long.  Depending on traffic during rush hour, this can take me anywhere from fifteen to thirty minutes.  I've managed to develop a fairly zen approach to this part of my commute, which is definitely the worst part (and will only last two more months!).  I turn on the radio or put in a CD to while away the time.

Part of the drive requires a right turn from a side road onto a more main road.  The side road is the only road that serves the metro station and the high school, so traffic tends to back up on it.  The main road has a never-ceasing stream of cars.  At some point a smart person noticed this problem and installed a traffic light. I may have to sit through a couple iterations of it, but I will eventually get through.

This evening I found myself at the front of the line waiting to turn.  I had an eye on the light and was chilling to my music.  Cars were driving by.  Someone honked.

Now the thing is, in Colorado, no one ever honked.  And on the east coast everyone honks all the freaking time. For a while it constantly made me jump.  Since I could never tell whether or not people were honking at me, I eventually learned to tune it all out.  I just assume someone else is being an idiot.

Today the idiot was me.  I had missed a gap in the cars during which someone could have turned right.  Being wary of traffic, I'm not sure I would have taken this opportunity even if I had seen it.  The cars are too close and I'd rather not get side-swiped in an effort to save a minute or two.  That's not how the lady behind me saw it.

She kept honking.

The light turned green, and I carefully turned onto the main road.  She squealed out behind me, swerved into the left lane and gave me the finger as she passed.  Accelerating while still leaning on her horn.

I really don't think I did anything wrong.  There's certainly nothing about my behavior I'll change in the future.  Had she not made such a point of flipping me off, I probably would have continued to assume that she was honking at someone else.

Maybe I am the bad driver in this scenario, but I really think she just needed to chill out a bit.

In Which I Know Nothing About Pop Culture

It should be noted that I had not heard the original version of this song, only the Glee cover.

Boyfriend: Why is Gwyneth Paltrow singing "Forget You"? She's a girl

Me: So?

Boyfriend: It seems like a weird song for a girl to sing

Me: Isn't the original sung by a girl?

Boyfriend: No, someone named Cee-Lo

Me: Right, that's a girl

Boyfriend: No it isn't

Me: Sounds like a girl's name

Boyfriend: No, he sings that song "Crazy"

Me: That's Gnarls Barkley

Boyfriend: Are you sure?

Me: Yes, I listened to it a ton in college.  Definitely Gnarls Barkley.

Boyfriend: But it's still weird that it's a girl singing "Forget You"

Me: Why?

Boyfriend: Because the ex is a gold digger

Me: Boys can't be gold diggers?

Boyfriend: Usually it's girls

Me: Well maybe Cee-Lo is a lesbian

Boyfriend: Okay, that makes sense.

Turns out Cee-Lo is a man.  Also the lead singer of Gnarls Barkley, which is a band not a person.

Pale Blue Dot

Honestly, I have two more book reviews in my drafts and nothing else.  I figure I should break things up a bit.  I really like this image and the quote that goes along with it.  Enjoy!

Look again at that dot.  That's here.  That's home.  That's us.  On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you've ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives.  The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar", every "supreme leader", every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there - on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.

The earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that, in glory and triumph, they could become momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner, how frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds.

Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.

The Earth is the only world known so far to harbor life. There is nowhere else, at least in the near future, to which our species could migrate. Visit, yes. Settle, not yet. Like it or not, for the moment the Earth is where we make our stand.

It has been said that astronomy is a humbling and character-building experience. There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another, and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we've ever known

-Carl Sagan, Pale Blue Dot, 1994

I also think this quote pairs nicely with one from Sandman, spoken by Destruction:

I like the stars.  It's the illusion of permanence, I think. I mean, they're always flaring up and caving in and going out. But from here, I can pretend.

-Destruction, Brief Lives

Sure makes you feel small

Problem Solved

The bathtub in our apartment has become the bane of my existence.  No matter what I do, I can never seem to get it clean.  There's a layer of dirt that has basically become part of the tub.  I have spent countless hours fighting with the grit and grime that have molded to it.  I've tried scrubbing bubbles, 409, and bleach.  I even bought some special mildew busting stuff.  I've used sponges, cloths, and steel wool.  I had some success with a Magic Eraser, but after I scrubbed straight through one I had only managed to clean about a square inch of the tub.  And now that nice, white square inch mocks me.

Boyfriend has no idea, of course.  He doesn't even seem to be aware that showers need to be cleaned, or that ours is frighteningly dirty.

He did manage to solve my problem, though.

On Saturday morning, Boyfriend woke me up as he was on his way out.  The tub had cracked and we could no longer use it without flooding the apartment below us.  Despite the early hour and the prospect of not being able to take a shower that day, my heart soared. We were getting a new tub!

The clean and sparkling tub was installed today.  I can once again clean the bathroom without becoming completely demoralized.

I think I'm going to miss having a landlord when the day comes that I have to deal with this sort of thing by myself.  On the other hand, the new house has three showers.  So if one of them does break, I won't have to go an entire weekend without a shower because the one I have isn't usable.

We Got It!

Remember that townhouse I was gushing about a couple of weeks ago? The one that was absolutely perfect in every way? The one that we'd never be able to get our finances together in time to make an offer on?

Boyfriend managed to pull his finances together and made an offer...a few hours after someone else had made an offer. After a bit of back and forth, the owners decided to go with the other offer (it was there first, after all). We became the backup and made plans to look at more townhouses with the hope that we could find something nearly as awesome.

Well, the other guy ended up losing his job and had to pull his offer out. So we* were invited to resubmit and they accepted! I feel a bit bad celebrating the fact that someone lost their job.  It's good news for use, though.  It looks like we'll get the house.

And it truly is perfect.

The location is unbeatable. It's less than half a mile from the metro, which will do wonders for my commute. Not only will I not have to deal with traffic, it should shave 10-15 minutes off each way. Plus, the back opens onto a park. That means privacy and proximity to walking trails. I think it's closer to bike trails, too, so that should make it easier to go on bike rides.

Inside it has three levels. Three bedrooms and two bathrooms upstairs. We'll end up using two of the bedrooms as offices, which I'm really excited for.  I can't wait to have my own space. The main level has a newly renovated kitchen, a living and dining room with hardwood floors, and a half bathroom. Off the back is a fenced in patio area that looks out to the park. Downstairs is a rec room, laundry/storage, and another full bathroom.

I think Boyfriend and I are going to hire a cleaning service. He's never going to clean a toilet, scrub a shower, sweep, mop, or dust, and I'm just going to end up resentful when I end up having to do all of it. Cleaning one toilet is bad enough, I don't even want to think about cleaning four of them. So we're throwing money at the problem to avoid the inevitable arguments. Privilege certainly has it's perks.

If everything goes according to the current plan, we'll be moving in at the beginning of July. The home inspection is tomorrow morning. Fingers crossed that everything works out.



*Technically Boyfriend is buying the house and I'm paying him rent. It makes the most sense for us.