March 26th, 23:46 | And after all, you're my wonderwall

Well, I was going to do one of those "1001 factoids about" things, but I'm too tired, and sad. It's been a long day. So, let's recap.

I am immature. I'm not really. Well, I am and I'm not. I'm not because I can behave. I can clam up, dress up all fashionable-like, office-appropriate and wow people. I can sip wine without grimacing, and make polite conversation about any topic. I can get along with anyone (essentially) and smooth over sticky social situations. I can smile a calm, soulless smile and interact with people on a completely fictional level.

But.

I don't. Because it would drain the life out of me to form bonds that don't really exist. I like the idea of being friends with the people I work with. I like the idea of not inventing a Work_me just to put on in the morning. I like the idea that I trust them and myself enough to be myself around them. I mean, within reason. They get kind of a diluted version of me. Nonetheless, it's me. A me that gets caught up wholeheartedly in things, who will be really happy over small things, but also equally disappointed over small things (but I try to hide that). A me who will genuinely feel bad for anyone who has sad news on the team, and elated for anyone with good news.

When BigToughManlyRecentDadCoworker gets all excited because his wife's sent him another video of his new daughter (two months old now), no one on that team is as sincere as me when they watch and coo over the video. I don't even like babies. But I love watching those videos. I love them for the way you can hear his wife almost singing in the background with pride and joy, and way his face just lights up at the sight of his daughter. It makes me laugh and sparkle, and I feel translucent and light.

Maybe it's because of that, or just because he sits in a place where he can see my face really clearly, but that coworker is probably the one person on the team who understands me. Who gets it when I feel like I'm being ignored somewhat by everyone, or that something has just gotten me down a little. He'll see right through my "brave face" and do small stuff for me like give me candy even though I told him I don't want any, or make fun of someone else's clothes (he usually picks on me since I'm a fashion disaster), or even compliment me on my hair or something. Small things. Very small. Exactly what I need to get me to smile again.

This isn't to say everyone else on the team's an asshole or anything like that. My team is great. Seriously. Half the team are pisces, and the rest are libras with one cancer. It's a good, good balance. It's mostly that other people behave differently. They would never share a real problem, or thought. They don't really care what the rest of the team thinks of them. They have no real desire to form lasting connections. I'm so fourteen-years-old that I do care. And I'm sure it shows. To be honest, I doubt they'll hire me back. I'm too emotional; I'd be an unsettling force on the team. But I remember when BigToughCoworker was all stressed out right before his little girl, because they were going through all this shit trying to get a new truck. The closest thing I've seen to sharing of pain in our team.

Occasionally our team will tease me that I'm not nearly as interesting as my predecessor because I don't have as many stories about guys. What a crock. I have stories that actually mean something. I had more guys chasing me than I knew what to do with. But I never told any of them. I refused. It would have been disrespectful to the guys, and there would be no point. I could as easily make up stories about guys. They wouldn't remember, they wouldn't care. I refuse to provide such cheap entertainment.

I'm not really sure what the point of all that was. I'm not angry or anything, I'm just feeling a little bummed out. I was sitting in my class tonight, and one of the girls made cookies for a couple other people, because they hang out outside of class and have grown quite close. Which is cool -- I think it's pretty awesome that pre-med hopefuls are being so friendly. (It's a shocking sight for me.) But, see, none of them would do it for me. Because I never have time. And it gets me down because I always think, if you ask me to describe myself, "friendly" is usually in my top three words. So how come I can't even manage a conversation with these people outside of class?

Things on Roo's board have a strange rhythm now too. Because I'm all blue, I'm convinced Boy's friends hate me. I know they don't, but I'm just in that kind of mood.

Was I really that lucky in Kingston? Just to be able to find a whole posse of people I just clicked with? Or have I lost something? Some quality which made me socially-acceptable and talk-to-able? Am I just too busy? Too hyper-sensitive?

Fuck it. I'm going to bed. And I don't care what the world wants. If growing up means creating thousands of small lies daily, I'm staying 17 until I die. There might only be a very small number of people who appreciate it, but they'll be enough for me.

Just want him to come scoop me up and tell me things I already know. Heard Wonderwall four times in the past twenty-four hours for the first time in years. Forget the "shake it" mix; my next project is a "nostalgia" cd.

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