Last night, as I tried to go to sleep, doing my best to calm my rather unquiet mind, I realized that it has been nearly six months since I stopped taking Accutane. My skin has behaved itself quite well in those six months, which I find to be a rather happy surprise. I suck at thinking positively, so this is news that makes my heart happy. Surprised, but happy. That is, until I woke up only to discover a little zit friend on my chin. Holy irony, Bat Man. Last night I was almost ready to raise a “mission accomplished” banner in celebration of my defeat of acne, but this morning, I’ve decided to remain on the cautiously optimistic train.
Thinking gets me in trouble more than I’d like.
Speaking of thinking, I find that my primary thinking/ life evaluation time is conducted as I blow dry my hair. What else can you do? You’re stuck in a stationary position and it’s impossible to be distracted by the tv, radio or the voices of others. What’s left? Um, not much. So as I was drying my hair at the gym, swaying from side to side as I’m prone to do, I started thinking about how it’s a good thing my personality type doesn’t require a lot of friends, because, well, I don’t have any. I have long time and far away friends, but none in the immediate area. Surprisingly, this doesn’t make me feel as pathetic as others might view my situation. I can’t say that I’m always enthused to sit alone, but for the most part, I do alright. I used to have friends. Good friends. And I miss them terribly. I talk to my neighbors here. I get the gossip, which I’m always intrigued by, but I haven’t had lunch with a girl friend in over a year.
That makes me feel sort of sad. But not sad enough to cry a river and organize a pity party.
I save my pity parties for important things like getting a hole in my favorite jeans or ruining yet another attempt at pot roast (my culinary nemisis).
I guess it’s also good that I despise “heart to heart” talks. Those that enjoy these types of conversations, really NEED a close set of friends. As for me, well, I’d rather talk about shallow things: tv, food, shopping. I’m an introspective person and keep my feelings to myself. I have found a good outlet on this blog, but for the most part, my rants are usually focused on things of a superficial nature. I’m not even sure that I have any deep thoughts. I have strong political/social opinions, but those are surface conversation topics, as well.
I don’t remember a time when I’ve really bared my soul to anyone. I find it insanely difficult to make the words that come out of my mouth match what my brain is thinking. There’s some sort of glitch in my wiring that makes the verbal expression of feelings a painful and unsuccessful venture. I’m just not the soul baring type. Truthfully, I fear that my soul is as shallow as the rest of me. Chances are my soul cares only about reality tv, chocolate and snagging a good bargain, like the vessel that houses it.
Maybe some people aren’t meant to be deep. I use my brain; I think, I plan, I strategize, but I don’t ponder. I don’t think about my existence much. I get easily confused and figure that maybe we’re not meant to figure it all out. On the other hand, I’m not vapid, socialite shallow. I care about people, about their health and well being. I want my family to happy, healthy and secure. I don’t ONLY care about me. Sure, I’m the star of my show, but I have a spot for others inside, as well.
It almost makes me sound as if I’m a really cold person; I think it’s my reserved nature that makes me appear a little cool. It’s kind of funny, because I’m really not standoffish. I’m happy to have a conversation with others, so long as it’s on a simple and fun topic.
I occasionally find myself nostalgic for the backyard gathering spot we had in Georgia. All the moms grabbed their chairs and we sat by the trampoline and chatted the afternoon away. The kids played, fought, cried, ate popsicles and we had an afternoon of laughter and fun. I do miss that.
Here, I’m like the hermit I think I was made to be. If I had a friend, I’d join her outside, but housing subdivisions in the civilian world are so different from their military installation counterparts. The demographics on a military base lends itself to lots of neighborhood interaction. Married couples with kids. It’s hard not to find a friendly face in the crowd.
But like I said, I’m not the kind of person that NEEDS friends. I like them; I appreciate them, but they’re not a requirement. With Army life being so transient, it’s hard to maintain friendships from afar. My only desire is that when it’s time for Craig to retire and we settle down for good, I’ll find a friend. As for now, I find myself much more concerned that Caroline finds quality friendships.
With all that being said, I do feel slightly pathetic, sitting here in my house day after day, letting the demands of a 7 year old dictate the course of my day.
My activities director is at the neighbor’s house as I type this. Each kid brought a lunch from home and gathered at Sarah and Rachel’s house to watch a movie, “Alvin and the ‘Chickmunks’.” Earlier in the day they re-booby trapped our house. It was initially done last night, but we had to undo it so that Craig wouldn’t trip and break his neck coming home from work late at night. We’re thoughtful like that.
The labyrinth of pink curling ribbon is fun for the kids, but annoying for those over five feet tall.
At least we’ll be exercising our agility.