Skipped out on a friend's birthday party tonight. It's partly that my husband has to work and I didn't want to go alone (the party is at some club/bar in the city), and partly that a million people are going to be there, including some people that I'm not ready to see yet. Not because I don't like them or am mad at them or anything like that, but because they represent a bygone era of my life with which I am not quite yet reconciled. Moreover, I find myself feeling particularly misanthropic lately.
I know I should make more of an effort to be less antisocial, but it's hard when my personality naturally leans that way. It's part of the reason why I feel God wants me to be a writer: I communicate better from a distance.
I'm also at a point in my life where having a million friendly acquaintances is less appealing than having a few very close friends. I think what I'm craving is greater intimacy, not popularity.
That said, I'll probably still call my friend next week to say happy birthday and to get drinks or something like that. After all, one can't be a recluse, either.
Saturday, January 20, 2007
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