And Here's Where We Learn Nothing New At All

Well, fuck it. No one ever accused me of being reserved. Or did they? Oh, right. “Cold Bitch” Is different than reserved, isn’t it?

It’s come to my attention lately that some people think I’m a bitch. Well, I’m not sure I should say “come to my attention” like it’s a shock, since my daughter has been writing and telling her friends this for years. I suppose though, that I was living in happy denial that my circle of friends somehow recognized my passionate and blunt manner of speaking as endearing. Maybe even charming, in my own quirky way. Not so, Internet.

Have we talked about my phone-phobia? My husband and my best friend will spit out their coffee here, because each of them knows me to be the opposite of phone-phobic. In my teens and 20’s I’d spend whole nights on the phone with friends and lovers. Now, at 35, I will do almost anything to avoid a phone conversation, except with my best friend. Somehow we manage to log probably 3 hours a day on the phone and we live 2 miles apart. Perhaps the fact that I can say, “hang on. AVERY! PUT DOWN THE DAMN CAT!-oh shit. the cat’s in the toilet” and hang up on her with no further explanation has something to do with my comfort level. Or maybe it’s because when I am bored with listening to her mother her kids while cradling the phone to her ear, I can just tell her to call me back and hang up without waiting for an answer. Whatever. The point is, I can talk to 2 people on the phone: my husband and my best friend.

Why? Because I HATE SMALL TALK. And when I’m not talking small? I’m mind-vomiting TMI to my in-laws and anyone who happens to get on God’s shit list that day and end up on the other end of my phone line. It doesn’t help that my husband’s mother is a therapist. Can I tell you how many times I’ve hung up the phone and beat it against my forehead, all the while wishing there was a God I could pray to who would reverse time just a few minutes so I could maybe leave out the bit about how I didn’t eat for 23 days when I was 19 because I thought my dad hated me? Does my mother in law need to know that shit? Seriously.

That seemed like a crazy segue, didn’t it? Stay with me here.

So. I hate the phone. Confession: I’m really not that cool in person either. (shocker!) I’m an introvert. I have to work up to a social interaction, and then afterward I have to recover from it. I love my friends. I really, really love them. I love seeing them, I love coffee with them, and I love getting to know them. But still. I almost need a nap after any kind of social gathering. It’s no one’s fault, it’s just my fragile personality.

You know what I do instead? I blog. And I participate in online communities. I joke about my husband and his metal “action figures” (dolls) and gazillion dollar gaming systems, but the truth is that we’re equally matched in geekiness.

I let it all hang out online. And I debate. A lot. I have a temper, and I type fast. When there’s drama, I’m often in the middle. Trying to keep the peace. Trying to make my point. Trying to stimulate my brain. You know why? Because I HATE THE PHONE. And I don’t have company. Because my interaction with humans is limited to my 6 month old and my 3 year old and Baby Einstein and the odd survey call in between “oh-my-god I’m going to sell my children to the gypsies” phone calls with my best friend. Sometimes my filter breaks. Sometimes I don’t take my own advice to step back from my point and analyze it objectively, make sure I’m not letting emotions ruin my logical argument. Being logical and objective is important to me. Keeping my emotions out of my political debates is especially important to me. Obviously, I’m just a baby! I’m a newbie! I’m trying to make a life here! It doesn’t always work!

But what I’m not trying to do? Is be a bitch. Especially a Miserable Bitch.

I suppose that part is just s gift.