I was sitting around last night, hanging up my laundry as I watched my friends hurry around the hallways of our building, getting ready to 'go out.' Whether they were heading for a bar, club, or house party of some sort, the main goal of the night is always simply to get plastered, so they can spend the next day talking about just how drunk they got and all the hilarity that ensued. In the past, I had always hung back from other groups of friends going on these outings, being sure that I wasn't missing out on much. But with the start of a new semester at a new campus last fall, I decided, 'what the hell, it's time I get out and live it up while I still can.' I had no idea how inherently short-lived this new take on life would be.
It's not that I want to be some quiet recluse; I've just always seemed to end up there, ever since childhood. The fun-lovers always seemed to view me as more of an after-thought than a worthwhile friend, unless I had some skill, connection, or possession that they needed. So I became more social, made new friends, and found myself with plenty of fun suddenly coming my way. I was part of the crowd at the party, the person at the center of the circle, and the person everyone envied the next day. (I don't get hangovers, ever, and can drink anyone I've ever met under the table. People either find the phenomenon incredible or incredibly irritating.) Yet, even though I now had everything I thought was missing, I found myself constantly wondering what was wrong with these people.
When they'd get together for the rest of the weekend, all they'd do is sit around saying, "Wow, what happened last night? It must have been an awesome night cuz I have no idea what happened!"
Where I'm left to sit there and think, "You had 3 beers. You know exactly what happened last night. You went to someone's house, drank 3 beers in 2 hours, and then gave me your coat when we walked home because it was freezing outside." However, stating such an obvious interpretation of events gets you nothing but dirty looks, since these people want to convince themselves that they are all a bunch of black-out drunks.
So now I'm back to being the girl who just sits at home, watching the action from the sidelines and waiting for some kind of fun or companionship that I'm doubting the existence of to come along. But perhaps there are supposed to be both actors and observers in the world, and I've been dealt the role of 'reluctant observer.' At least I've got Netflix to pass the time...