Saturday, May 15, 2010
Now to switch topics completely. I think one of the hardest and best parts of growing up is coming to terms with who you are. And liking it. I don't think Mom was ever able to do that- just like who she was. But I can understand why- it's not always easy. For example, there is a group of people here who I like. They're fun and nice and I enjoy spending time with them. Sometimes. But they do like to drink. And I'm not as gung-ho about being hammered as they are. Last night, we went to a party. After about 30 minutes, I realized I was sitting alone, nursing a beer, watching conversations happen around me. Now before you go feeling sorry for me, I wasn't unhappy about it. In fact, I looked around the room and realized that I didn't have a darn thing to say to anybody anyway. It was a weird feeling. It was kind of freeing and painful at the same time.
But ultimately, I like me. I feel like I miss out on things or don't get invited to all the things I'd like to. But I'm also perfectly happy spending a gorgeous Saturday alone at home, reading in the hammock and petting my pups.