Folks, I'd Like to Sing a Song...

...About the American Dream. About me, about you.

No new content tonight, but I might have a story tomorrow.

This Is a Strange Sensation

I think it's called "happy." I could be wrong about that. I'm mostly going off what people have told me "happy" should be. Usually it's contrary to what I want to feel. At best, I am usually somewhat off-center from what people will consider happy. I usually stop at "contented," with elements of "amused." I'm not sure this is what happy is, but I think I'm approaching the target.

See, I've met someone. Nothing approaching serious at the moment. But tonight suggested the possibility of continued interaction.

As many new meetings happen these days, this one started in this ephemeral fantasia (temporary fantasy world for those without a thesaurus) called the internet. We exchanged emails for close to a week before she gave me her phone number. I was struck by intelligence of her written words, and impressed that she seemed comfortable with my skewed wit and from-left-field references. It seemed too good to be true. I actually asked Weevil if he was coaching someone up in some cruel social experiment. Nope. Turns out she's real.

I called her this afternoon, and had a voice to go with the name. The verbal exchange wasn't quite what the written was, but that's understandable. A written medium allows for the opportunity to edit your thoughts. She implicitly invited me out to a bar to watch her friends' band perform. I showed up and was confronted by her "wall of friends." As I mentioned earlier, I don't meet new people well. Now, I'm confronted with five new people. I felt as though I had been put on display. I kept waiting for someone to pipe up with "do a trick, fat man! Entertain us!" That never happened. Things actually went rather smoothly. I didn't scare her off, and felt somewhat comfortable among her friends. Odd.

It seems that it may be possible to integrate me into society. Maybe.

Will You Be My Friend?

This is for whatever people who don't know me that may have come this way. That sentence seems awkward, but I can't see a more elegant way to phrase it.

Looking back at most of my posts, I think I come across as a pragmatic, misanthropic bastard. This is largely due to the fact that I am a pragmatic, misanthropic bastard.

I don't meet new people well. Most times, when I meet someone, my first instinct is to assume that person is an either an asshole, an idiot, or otherwise worthless, generally speaking. I realize this isn't very socially healthy, but it works for me. It seldom leaves me disappointed in human nature. Also, I'd wager this instinct proves valid at least 80% of the time. Yes, I realize that my attitude no doubt supports something of a self-fulfilling nature to my interpersonal relationships. I'm OK with that.

I've never understood how people manage a huge group of friends. In my mind, if your number of friends exceeds the legal drinking age, you are likely spread too thin. It may be that people fail to distinguish between "friends" and "acquaintances" in a manner I'm on board with. Just because you are friendly with someone, doesn't necessarily make you friends. It just makes for a socially smooth dynamic. Personally, I would say I have about six or seven people I would call friends. There are two who are close enough I tend to consider them family more than friends.

There are a number of people I am friendly with, and know well enough to not want to strangle them with their own dismembered arm, but would not likely consider friends by my own stringent definition. That definition is simple. If I would be willing to set aside my own gain for yours, you are my friend. If I would be willing to abandon my own gain in favor of yours, you are Trevor or Jay.

Maybe I just hold my friends in higher esteem than most people do. I'm OK with that, and I think my friends are, too.