Neither Fun Nor Awesome
The file clerk at work had told me about this thing and invited me to go with her. A few months ago, I read Oh, the Glory Of It All, and really enjoyed the book. Plus, I just finished reading all the Tales of the City books, by Armistead Maupin and really enjoyed those.
What's the connection between these two things, you ask? The connection is that Sean Wilsey's mother Pat is rumored to have been the inspiration for a character named Prue Giroux from Tales of the City. So I was psyched to go to this thing.
A friend who had also read OTGOIA was going to meet me there. I arrived later than I'd planned, so I walked along the line of people waiting to get in, to see if my friend was already in line. She wasn't so I went to the end of the line. I stood behind a guy who looked like his name should be Ivan. I stood in front of a girl who was so impressed with her literary knowledge that she reminded me of the Intellectual Hipster. I watched other people walk by me, doing what I'd done - hoping to find someone they knew so they wouldn't have to go wait at the end of the line.
Every female walking by looked at everyone's outfit. I had changed out of my work clothes into jeans and a blue v-neck thermal shirt. The way people looked at me made me want to cry. Everyone was dressed better than I was. Even my friend showed up in some cute asian top with chopsticks in her hair. I don't own any fancy or cute clothes. My idea of dressing up is to not wear a t-shirt. For the most part, all I own are work clothes and jeans, t-shirts and sweatshirts. I own one "interview outfit" and one dress that could be worn to an interview, a wedding or a funeral. Cute clothes just don't look cute on me. Or I don't look cute in them.
I hate that feeling I get - that feeling of not being worthy of sharing the same space as other people because of how shitty I look. It took effort not to cry numerous times last night. The setting was very casual. I was impressed that all the artists performing sat in the audience, and sat through the other speaker's performances. Joyce Maynard sat in the row in front of us. My friend could have poked her in the back.
Wheen the whole thing was over, I wanted to tell Joyce Maynard (remember in Will & Grace how Will can't refer to Sandra Bernhard as anything but Sandra Bernhard? That's the instinct I have with Joyce Maynard) that I really enjoyed her performance. That it truly entertained me and made me want to go to the library and read all her books. Hmmm... she'd probably rather hear that her performance made me want to go to the bookstore and BUY all her books, but that just wouldn't be the truth.
Anyway. And I wanted to go up to Sean Wilsey and tell him that I too, had a really hard time getting through high school, and appreciated reading about how he did it, and other lame things like that.
My friend ran off twice to go talk with performers with no hesitation at all. I stood against the fucking wall and never talked to anybody, once again, trying not to cry. Reminding myself to clear the tears from my eyes as I walked down the staircase behind my friend, lest the stairs blur.
Sometimes I hate myself. Last night was one of those times. Because I was never able to fall asleep last night, I still hated myself today. Due to work issues, the file clerk wasn't able to go to the show last night, and today she was all excited to hear about it. I tried very hard to separate my issues from how the show was, but she kept asking, "Did you have fun?" "Was it awesome?"
Well, NO. It was interesting. Shit, I'm 29 and had to show a bouncer my ID for the first time in over five years. There is a faint outline of a stamp on my right hand. But fun? It was really nice to see my friend. We don't get to see each other very often. But awesome? No, not so much. It was effort for me. It was frustrating. I didn't know the majority of the performers, and they kept name and place dropping names and places I'd never heard of, which added to my feeling like shit, like I didn't belong.
The whole thing left me exhausted and yet unable to sleep. Sometimes I cannot remember why I throw myself out there like I did last night. Because right now, the only reasons I can come up with are the reasons other people feed me, that pan out to not be true. The more I do things like this, the easier they'll get. That I'll have fun. That it'll be awesome. Still waiting.
What's the connection between these two things, you ask? The connection is that Sean Wilsey's mother Pat is rumored to have been the inspiration for a character named Prue Giroux from Tales of the City. So I was psyched to go to this thing.
A friend who had also read OTGOIA was going to meet me there. I arrived later than I'd planned, so I walked along the line of people waiting to get in, to see if my friend was already in line. She wasn't so I went to the end of the line. I stood behind a guy who looked like his name should be Ivan. I stood in front of a girl who was so impressed with her literary knowledge that she reminded me of the Intellectual Hipster. I watched other people walk by me, doing what I'd done - hoping to find someone they knew so they wouldn't have to go wait at the end of the line.
Every female walking by looked at everyone's outfit. I had changed out of my work clothes into jeans and a blue v-neck thermal shirt. The way people looked at me made me want to cry. Everyone was dressed better than I was. Even my friend showed up in some cute asian top with chopsticks in her hair. I don't own any fancy or cute clothes. My idea of dressing up is to not wear a t-shirt. For the most part, all I own are work clothes and jeans, t-shirts and sweatshirts. I own one "interview outfit" and one dress that could be worn to an interview, a wedding or a funeral. Cute clothes just don't look cute on me. Or I don't look cute in them.
I hate that feeling I get - that feeling of not being worthy of sharing the same space as other people because of how shitty I look. It took effort not to cry numerous times last night. The setting was very casual. I was impressed that all the artists performing sat in the audience, and sat through the other speaker's performances. Joyce Maynard sat in the row in front of us. My friend could have poked her in the back.
Wheen the whole thing was over, I wanted to tell Joyce Maynard (remember in Will & Grace how Will can't refer to Sandra Bernhard as anything but Sandra Bernhard? That's the instinct I have with Joyce Maynard) that I really enjoyed her performance. That it truly entertained me and made me want to go to the library and read all her books. Hmmm... she'd probably rather hear that her performance made me want to go to the bookstore and BUY all her books, but that just wouldn't be the truth.
Anyway. And I wanted to go up to Sean Wilsey and tell him that I too, had a really hard time getting through high school, and appreciated reading about how he did it, and other lame things like that.
My friend ran off twice to go talk with performers with no hesitation at all. I stood against the fucking wall and never talked to anybody, once again, trying not to cry. Reminding myself to clear the tears from my eyes as I walked down the staircase behind my friend, lest the stairs blur.
Sometimes I hate myself. Last night was one of those times. Because I was never able to fall asleep last night, I still hated myself today. Due to work issues, the file clerk wasn't able to go to the show last night, and today she was all excited to hear about it. I tried very hard to separate my issues from how the show was, but she kept asking, "Did you have fun?" "Was it awesome?"
Well, NO. It was interesting. Shit, I'm 29 and had to show a bouncer my ID for the first time in over five years. There is a faint outline of a stamp on my right hand. But fun? It was really nice to see my friend. We don't get to see each other very often. But awesome? No, not so much. It was effort for me. It was frustrating. I didn't know the majority of the performers, and they kept name and place dropping names and places I'd never heard of, which added to my feeling like shit, like I didn't belong.
The whole thing left me exhausted and yet unable to sleep. Sometimes I cannot remember why I throw myself out there like I did last night. Because right now, the only reasons I can come up with are the reasons other people feed me, that pan out to not be true. The more I do things like this, the easier they'll get. That I'll have fun. That it'll be awesome. Still waiting.
posted by Green at 10/10/2006 09:35:00 PM
12 Comments:
I'm sorry. And it does feel like shit when you value comfort over looks and everyone around you is cute to the hilt. But at the same time their feet are killing them and the wish they could just keep that damn shirt from riding up.
They really arent any better than you, but value different things. Personally I am on your side with the values. Yes, at times I yearn to be more girly and cute, but then I wouldnt be me, just like you wouldnt be you. And I know there are a lot of people who think you are pretty fucking cool.
Sorry it wasn't better for you. I wouldn't sweat not being like those other people. I gave up, for the most part, a long time ago because I just found it so damn exhausting to be "on." I don't know how they do it. I totally spaz out on the few occasions when I manage to talk to strangers. Maybe for those kinds of people it comes naturally, but for others it takes a huge effort to socialize.
And the outfit - even if you don't feel it, act like you just don't give a shit if other people don't approve. Then, instead of being the girl who isn't wearing a cute ensemble, you're the girl who's too cool to need all the fluff.
I think it's impossible to feel comfortable at events like that. It's essentially a lot of people fawning over a celebrity, and at the same time, trying to have their own little bit of being special by having a cute outfit, or whatever. But you can only feel special if someone else isn't, so the whole thing is a power play.
All of what you wrote, I think, says more about those other people, and what they must be lacking in their lives to need to put you down in order to feel good, than it does about you.
I think what you wore sounded cute. It's the non hipster I'm cool and comfortable look.
For what it's worth, I go to those events regularly and have many friends who are struggling artists and they all say it can be taxing putting up a public face of being chatty and nice. They all had and still have feelings of inadequacy in those types of settings.
You hit it on the head, the more you do it, the easier it is. The payoff is it is fun to go out and see and do those things once those insecure feelings can be dealt with. There have been many times where I felt weird walking in alone and everyone knew someone else. But the chance to discover some great art or listen to an author I love is well worth the out of place feelings.
Plain(s) Feminist, I don't see where she said other people were putting her down.
Yeah, it sounded like you looked fine, just different than everyone else. I know this is cliche, but if you're comfortable and confident with your "look" then that will come through. Shallow people be damned.
This was me on Friday night. I text messaged BMC while I was on a rooftop bar feeling fat and unstylish and wishing I was home in bed: "Rescue me from the pretty people!" and I swear to you, guess what song came on next? "Rescue Me." I'm not lying. But nobody rescued me.
My old job used to have me going to things like you went to all the time. It was fun when I was younger, but I grew tired of it. It's OK to not want to go. It doesn't make you weird. It makes you "you." I bet you shine in smaller group functions, like dinners or small parties with good friends.
FWIW, I'm sure you looked a lot cuter than you think you did. Hell, you got carded? Jealous!
All of your readers are really sweet. Your honesty about your feelings is very helpful to the masses of people who feel just like you did sometimes and wonder why they don't fit in. The truth is, everyone feels that way ALOT but some people are experts at looking like they don't. Groups also help people look like they're comfortable and lend a certain security in social situations. Problem is, you have to suffer all of the personalities in that group as payment.
FWIW (borrowing from SNJ), I spent the summer after college avoiding my future by reading every autobiography my local library system carried. I guess I was looking for a connection for what I was feeling (ie, alone, a little weird, without direction). Well, I found it--and lots of it! People who write autobiographies are usually ready to be open and honest about their experiences and life lessons. It's reality t.v. for the literary minded, and USUALLY more dignified:)
i hate those things too sometimes.
i have a tendency to make everything i wear look frumpy - or at least that's what i'm imagining other people think; for all i know they might be thinking i look cute. it's really my issue in my head. but i've found that there are a couple of things that make me look more secure in my appearance: putting on moisturizer and contacts rather than glasses, for example. that's pretty much it. no makeup, no cute clothes, but if i have moisturizer and contacts i feel better. is there anything like that for you? getting your hair blown out or something? anyway, i'm glad you got to see your friend. i hope you have many fun and awesome evenings in your near future, whether or not they fit into other people's definition of those terms.
Karen_S,
I've never thought you look frumpy.
Yeah blowing out my hair helps, but that's a whole other blog post about how having people focus on my looks and futz at me makes me feel. And lets not even talk about having to sit facing a mirror, the very loud music all salons seem to favor, and the price and time it takes.
Basically, I need a different body so I can get better clothes. Then, while I wouldn't exactly feel like I fit in, I wouldn't feel like I stand out as the answer to "which one of these is not like the others".
I hope you also have many fun and awesome evenings in your near future. :)
I'm not sure if this will help or not. I've been spending a lot of time recently going through old family photos from my mom's stuff to figure out which ones should go to whom. I can't believe how skinny I have been when in fact I KNOW I've always been fat. I should have been feeling a lot better about myself all time. Of course, now, I really AM fat. I hope the new digital cameras work as well as the old film ones in making me thinner over time.
GY - see?! YOU never think i look frumpy, i ALWAYS do. feh. but thanks for the encouragement! there's a cheap hair place on montgomery downtown, maybe kitty-corner from the citibank building?? they once blew my hair out for under $10, did an amazing job in no time, and - the best part - barely even looked at me. i'll have to figure out who they are, i've forgotten. i used to wear glasses to get my hair cut, instead of contacts, so that i could take them off and not have to see myself in the mirror. i don't know why but things have gotten a little better. i hope they do by you too.
Anon 5:10, she said the way people were looking at her made her want to cry. That's what I meant.
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