2008-10-27
Jester.
Okay, so Facebook. It's JUST ABOUT taken over my life.
I was sort of afraid of this. I was afraid of the sudden and massive urge to collect as many "friends" as possible, although to be fair -- I am making every effort to only accept "friendship" from people I actually know. So this time around, I'm not "friends" with a shit ton of bands that I have no interest in seeing, nor am I friends with "Toast," "Coffee," or "Pie."
Catching up with people I went to high school with has been interesting as well, although it has brought up a lot of odd memories regarding the dynamics, and my "role," in the group of people I hung out with, particularly during my senior year.
How do I explain this? I have never quite shaken the feeling that I was kept around simply because I was funny, but never really considered "part of." My closest friends were in the class ahead of me. I felt very much cast adrift after they graduated, and was very grateful when I was befriended by a group of classmates with whom I'd really only had sporadic contact prior to senior year. These kids were unfailingly kind to me. They made every effort to include me in their activities and plans, and I even went to the winter semi-formal with one of them.
But....oof. I still get WICKED UNCOMFORTABLE thinking about this. What can I say? I was -- to put it mildly -- an underachiever. My grades were pitiful. If I could have mustered the energy and interest, I could have been in all the AP classes, could have been more involved, could have made an effort to not look like I'd been dipped in glue and rolled through the Central Square Goodwill. But my circumstances, and temperament, were such that I just couldn't "go there."
So I would sit in the cafeteria with the best and brightest and feel like the biggest jerk in the world. To compensate, I made myself the jester.
I worry a bit about this reunion that's coming up, and whether I'm going to fall right back into this role, where I assume that nobody really wants to hear about me; I'm just on-hand to provide the brittle bons mots. A half-assed Dorothy Parker with a tattoo of Skylab on her shoulder.
I'm my own worst enemy in this regard. The piece of shit around whom the universe must needs revolve. Look at me! I suck! But LOOK AT ME!
Blah. I didn't want to be a big bummer tonight. A part of me just wants to delete this whole thing and post a YouTube clip of, say, a Wendy's training video from the 80's.
lisamcc at 7:09 p.m.
2 comments so far
Jess
2008-10-28 15:33:20
Geez, if grades were an indication of intelligence then I'm a fucking idiot too! (and we all know I'm brilliant) I think it's interesting that you worried about being kept around because you were funny. It's like saying "I feel like people only like me for my fantastic personality!" Also? It takes real intelligence and sensitivity to be truly funny. Except when it comes to poo & farts... I'll give you that.
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lj lindhurst
2008-10-28 15:44:43
Wow, I had good grades AND a great personality. I'M THE COMPLETE PACKAGE, PEOPLE!!
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