Awkward things.

Dear Person I Kinda Know…

Do you have a super awesome acquaintance that you really, really like, but they live, I don’t know, a zillion miles away, on the moon probably, and you can only get to know them via Facebook, (or Twitter, if you have any clue on how to use the damn thing) and you don’t wanna send too many messages or ask too many questions, for fear of seeming creepy and sending them running for the hills, screaming ‘witch!’? I do. I have five actually. Hi there people who hardly know me, but have seen fit to let me access their lives with my laptop! How’s it hanging?

Now, as already discussed, (or maybe that was in my head… I live a lot of life in my head.) I am inept at the whole making friends malarkey. Add to that my consistently seeming to require some sort of strong medication thing and you have a social disaster waiting to make a scene. I am not normal. And I’m not saying that in a Big Brother contestant, ‘I’m mad, me!’ sort of way, because I think it makes me look fun and interesting. I am aware that my brain works differently to 99% of the population. I know that when I open my mouth, all of the jumbled oddness floating around in my head will rush out and I won’t be quick enough to catch it. I know this, and I have come to terms with my own strangeness, but that doesn’t make it any easier to navigate the world.

Like, when I find people that are really, super-duper cool, I tend to basically throw my hands up in the air, flail them around a bit and squeal for a while, until they manage to sneak away from me and never come across me again. I have tried to be calm, I have tried to be unfazed by limited edition Converse, or bags with Jane Austen quotes, or tattoos of pumpkins or the type of beard that I just want to surgically attach myself to, but I can’t. It’s impossible. My jaw drops open and inappropriate compliments smack them in the face. Side note: How the hell do you tell someone that you like their beard without it sounding like you want to give them a blowjob? I don’t think it can be done…

My main problem is that I seem to be coming on to everyone I meet. I am enthusiastic and complimentary and giggly, plus I have a Princess Diana-style, chin down, eyes peeking doe-ishly up habit that I can’t shake off. This is a big problem, since people I am not trying to date think that I am and start to cross the road to avoid the old ‘how are you?’ ‘I’m fine, how are you?’ ‘I’m fine’ charade; which, if we all decided to be honest, would be an entirely different conversation. ‘How are you?’ ‘I want to burn my boss’s house down, I feel more and more drawn to the idea of becoming a heroin addict every day and I feel that if I live to thirty, I might have to marry my best friend so I don’t confirm my mother’s suspicions that I am, in fact, a completely unlovable shrew, incapable of wooing a man with any clue about romance or the existence of unicorns. How are you?’ ‘Ummm…’ But I digress.

If you are an acquaintance of mine and are reading this thinking ‘Does she fancy me? Should I start crossing the street?’ No! Don’t cross the street! I am just overly friendly and have no idea of boundaries or common decency! Unless you have any or all of the following: A beard; a really awesome tattoo (pumpkin/speech bubble/smiley face/literary quote/unicorn/llama/sloth/portrait of Dick Van Dyke, etc.); a good relationship with your mum; more books than sense; optimism; dirty hands; a car and a keen sense of adventure; any culinary skill whatsoever and the wonderful gift of veganism. Then it’s a safe bet that I definitely fancy you. But that needn’t be a bad thing! I won’t start humping your leg or anything, promise.

So if you are someone I know, or someone I don’t know, whatever, we’re all friends here, and you’re not creeped out by this unintentionally long blog post, and secretly harbour a desire to discuss weird animals in detail and be forced to construct vision boards and elaborate Halloween costumes, get in touch! After all, what do you have to lose, except your personal space?