Respect the Cruller

Ever thought you were doing one thing with one friend on a Saturday night, but it turns out you're hanging out with numerous members of the NYC Watcher's Council, the local Buffy the Vampire Slayer fan club? I have! Now I'm a chartered member of geekdom.

The event was the Buffy the Vampire Slayer Once More With Feeling Sing-Along, which started at freaking midnight and therefore didn't get me home until 3:30. I've never been awake and sober out in the city at that hour. It's an unusual perspective, of which I think I've had enough.

Anyway, the sing-along was super fun even if the audience wasn't very lively. I was singing louder than anyone on the Spike and Giles songs. They fit my range really well and make me feel like a real boy and a rockstar. I bombed the trivia contest because I am the dumbest person I know, so I didn't win the Cordelia "The Wish" action figure. I went home and cried about it because nobody realizes that the turquoise dress/cardigan combo she's wearing in that episode is one of my favorite costumes of the Whedonverse. (Also on the list are Dawn's slutfest get-up from Season 7's "Him"--"What is that dress made of? Paint?"--Anya's bunny suit, and that horrid pink thing Kaylee wears to the ball.)

Yeah... ok, anyway, that's what I did Saturday night. I'm actually proud of myself because I usually shy away from singing in public unless I'm intoxicated, but I really got into it without any chemical assistance. I don't care what you think of me, my Saturday night was cool.

Yesterday, I went to the Frick gallery with a lovely friend from college to remind myself that I don't know shit about art. Luckily, unlike last time when I was on a date with a gorgeous Icelandic boy I really wanted to impress, I didn't worry about being judged by my companion yesterday. I absent-mindedly put a finger on a table at one point and got yelled at by a security guard, but other than that the visit was pleasant and not embarassing.

Now I want to learn something about art history. My goal is that next time I go to an art museum, I want to share at least three (3) facts with whoever I am with even if it's stuff they already know. The best part is that if they're really simple facts, not only are they easy to learn, but also I can say them in such a way that it sounds like I know a lot more but don't want to overload my companion's plebian mind with too much culture. That will mean I finally have class.

He Hates Me, He Hates Me Not : A Mini Character Sketch of Me

One of the traits I've inherited from my mother is this stupid tendency to assume that people hate me. At best, it just makes me a little paranoid about getting along with new people. At it's worst, it causes me to be too accomodating and to sabotage relationships by assuming that people would rather me be out of the way.

This isn't an issue of a poor self-image. I like myself very much and think that all you losers would do well to have me in your life. No, I'm aware of how irrational it is, but I can't seem to get past it nonetheless.

If someone's called me and I let too much time pass before calling them back, I assume they're mad and then I get too scared to pick up the phone and do it, even if we're close friends. If I go on a date, the time between the date and the first time we talk again is filled with "I don't wanna bother him" and "He probably thinks I'm too quiet" and "He probably only said those things to be nice."

The thing I hate most about it is that it causes me to question the motives behind compliments. This isn't all the time, and I take compliments well, but in my head they're often tagged with "Well, she's my mom, she has to say that" or "He probably just wants to sleep with me" or "Well, he loves me, when you love someone you even like the yucky parts." It doesn't make the compliment any less true, and the opinions of others have helped me feed a positive and healthy self-image (yes, validation from others is important for me, and it is for you too so don't even go there.) I didn't even know I had pretty eyes until people told me, and I believe it. But believing a compliment isn't the point, appreciating it is. And I'd appreciate them a lot more if I could get that stupid voice to shut up.

I also tend to agree with people a lot, and this little paranoia causes me sometimes to be unsure whether I'm being easy-going or acquiescent. Being easy-going is something I pride myself on. It's hard to upset me and most of the time I really don't care where we go for dinner or which channel we watch. But now and then I feel like I'm silencing myself for the "benefit" of other people, even when those people want to hear what I have to say. I'm a hell of a lot better at identifying this and stopping it than I was when I was younger, but every now and then it creeps in.

Luckily, this isn't a terribly serious issue. It mostly leads to personal anxiety, but when I think someone hates me, I never lash out and hate people back. It's a stupid defense mechanism some people have, and if you have it you'd better stop before people start hating you for real.

Further, it's so super-easy for me to get over it. If I can do anything right, it's admit to myself when I'm being a tard. Next time we talk, I'll totally forget about any paranoia that I may have felt. Next time I get an e-mail from you, I'll realize we only went out two days ago and that's not much time at all. But next time I see you, I'll probably let you pick the restaurant.