"I want to be a Royal Canadian Mountie!"
-Diana, in hysterics, from the Award Winning British Play "Absent Friends"
The last few weeks have been an uncharacteristic (or...characteristic...depending on when you knew me or in what periods of time you remember me most) whirlwind of social engagements. Literally. Every single night for the past two weeks has been a social engagement. Parties, dances, drinks, dinners, plays and movies.
I was asked on five dates within a two-day period. I have seen a movie, a concert, a play, a dance, and been taken out to dinner twice. I've hosted two parties, gotten back together with Gym Buddies, and added an extra class. Tonight I have to go to another meeting (Save the WRI!), and I'm going on another dinner date. Two days ago I went on a date to see "Absent Friends" and then was made homemade cheesecake.
On the topic of "Absent Friends" ,it had some very interesting points regarding the realities of friendship, what broken people look like in their thirties, the different ways people destroy themselves and each other, and how the person who has faced the most traditional loss is also the one who turned out the most mentally stable. Quick, someone see it! It's still at the H-FAC. You all know I count on plays for my social insurance!
So, as I passed by the H-FAC to buy some tickets for another social excursion (Celebration of Christmas...my boy TallBlondVocalist expects me to attend and cheer him on.) I thought, "I need a break." The thing about social excursions is that, while they are great distractions, great fun, and create new relationships with an efficiency Henry Ford would be proud of, there needs to be about a 1 to 10 ratio. I need at least one hour of self-time and introspection for every ten social.
So, after buying my Christmas Tickets, I bought a single ticket to the Interpretive Dance Concert. I mean, what could be more peaceful, insightful, and calming than a whole night ,alone, with Interpretive Rhythmic Movement and myself? I really do like dance. Besides, I was starting to get worried that I hadn't experienced any (like any) strong emotions regarding a recent event. Maybe, I deduced, if I had a second alone I could process some things and figure out if I was moving on too fast. This seemed a healthy plan.
I announced to the masses that I wished to schedule nothing on Friday night, and that I was going to take some time to myself. That afternoon a friend called and invited me to the very same dance concert. I told the friend that I had already purchased a ticket. My friend attempted to purchase a ticket at the door, but found that the entire weekend was sold out. Waving goodbye, I began to search for my seat.
Running into several people I knew, I made small talk on my way to my seat.
"Oh expletive.", my neurons shouted as I noticed the presence of a most disliked, and unexpected guest. "How annoying.", my other neurons sighed, shrugging their electrically charged synapses. I immediately turned around and headed back down to the hallway, and milled about for a little while, suddenly wishing that I had left with my friend instead.
How a kick-trash lady, such as myself, ever ends up in these nightmares, I've no idea.
As the lights dimmed, I decided that ,as it was a large seating area and dim theater, chances of running into/getting recognized by anyone unpleasant would be small. That was until I found my seat....directly behind the irksome entity. Like, literally, exactly one row behind. Exactly. Lined up perfectly. So much for meaningful art-induced introspection. Now I was just embarrassed and perturbed. A long stream of catty comments, harsh rhetoric, and plain old-fashioned obscenities circled in my head until the lights dimmed and I was enclosed in the warm cocoon of music.
During intermission I was asked on another date.
"Oh sweet two-feet-from-where-I-just-was!" 
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