I'm That Friend

Just imagine. You're sitting around the table at some reunion...5, 10, 20 years down the road. And you're remembering the fun days in college. Those all-nighters in the library, those parties when the cops drove by and you hid under a bed because you were underage. You know, the good times. Before you got old and can barely stay coherent drinking a glass of white wine anymore, much less anything with liquor in it.

And then, you remember that girl who had that mission. What was it again? Something to do with the bathrooms on campus. She had a flask. And she loved...what was it? Somebody chimes in, "tequila!" *Cringe* That's right. Shots in bathrooms, or something weird like that. You think she even had a map. Where is she now, anyway?

And the only semi-knowledgeable person in the room speaks up, "I talked to her about a year ago. I think she's in Alaska dog-mushing, or something like that." And then the conversation moves on to the drama that used to go on between some "him and her" and now they're getting married next spring.

Okay...perhaps that was a little melodramatic. Surely, my friends will remember me for more than taking shots in bathrooms. (Perhaps I'm slightly narcissistic as well.) But my point is! I have the tendencies to fall off the face of the planet, because I'm perfectly inclined to be a hermit. This may seem impossible to you. Really...how could a girl who had a "mission" like that possibly be a hermit? Well, that was a senior year. The first three years of college were training me to not be a hermit.

I was a funny kid growing up. I would turn down playing with my friends so that I could read my book instead. Then, college happened. Suddenly, I wasn't allowed to be introverted anymore. And by the end of sophomore year, I had developed quite a different definition for being "that friend," a definition that involved a variety of missions. Now, I'm slowly flipping back to the other side of the coin. Now, I just talk to myself.

"You know, your blog kind of sucks."
"No it doesn't."
"Have you looked at the stats of how many people read it?"
"Yeah. Well."
"Your friends are lying. They aren't really reading it."
"They're not lying."
"Suit yourself. Your blog still sucks"
"I laugh out loud at what I write. Why wouldn't someone else?"
"Have you ever paused to think about what you look like when you laugh at yourself?"
"Have you ever thought about what I look like when you talk back to me?"
"Oh, shut up."
"You shut up. I'm trying to read Wuthering Heights here."


I'm not going mad. I promise. And it's not like that devil and angel on each shoulder crap. I'm just saying. I'm very good at entertaining myself.