Nobody Likes Me, Everybody Hates Me. I guess I'll go eat worms.

When I was a teenager, I'd spend a lot of time at home with my parents.

I loved it.

Friday nights: pizza and the McNeil Lehr Report, (okay, I didn't love that news show on PBS, but it was the one night a week when we'd eat and watch tv...sometimes I'd convince my dad to put on a re-run of The Simpsons instead), maybe a movie afterwards. It was cozy.

I had a lot of friends, but there was something nice about staying in and not listening to them chit chat. Blah blah blah. There's only so much sitting in the smoking section at The Ridge* while watching friends eat french fries that a girl could take. Coordinating plans with 6 or 8 other people; being stuck out without a ride home; smokey clothes; tired the next day. Who needs it? I was 17 going on 56.

When the phone would ring, I'd holler into the kitchen, "Eh. If it's for me, could you please take a message?" I'd be reclining on the couch, of course, too busy to get up. We didn't have caller id and of course only Zack Morris had a mobile phone.

It was usually for me.

(I mean, I had friends and went out with them sometimes... and when I did, it was manic... 17 going on speed. Just kidding, Mom, I didn't do drugs. I was very safe. I meant it as a metaphor.)

Anyhow, I'd get the message about going bowling or something and then sigh, "Well, I'm not doing that!" Then I'd crumple the paper and throw it over my shoulder. I wouldn't call back. I'd get a bowl of ice cream, stretch my legs on the couch, and settle in to watch When Harry Met Sally or something.

However, once in a while I'd be home and the phone wouldn't ring. I'd whine, "How come nobody is calling me?!"

My mom or dad would laugh, "KD, you never want to talk to them when they do call." (They were used to seeing me ball up and toss message after message.)

I'd reply, "I know, but I want options. I want them to want me to go out so that I can say no. I want a plethora of choices." (I would have said that in the phase of practicing SAT vocab words.)

They'd laugh. I'd mope.

.....
My friend, Doc, has a great question that he asks when he senses his attitudes or actions are causing some good or bad emotion. So as not to judge that emotion, he reflects, "Hmm, what is this?"

So in thinking back to that, I wonder why the change of context would change my attitude for the whole night. If someone had wanted my company, I'd be happy to say no and do what I wanted to do; I'd be happy to be independent. However, once I stopped getting attention, I started craving it and being dependent on other people's thoughts and plans.

It's like the girl who says to herself, "I wonder if I could get that hottie to date me." And then when she does, the game is over and she's bored and dumps him. (I don't know anyone like this. I just have seen it in the movies. Probably a movie I watched with my parents back in 1996.)

Why am I thinking about this now? Although it's been ten years since high school, I have seen this scenario cycle back to me a couple of times in life. Maybe, like in this post in which Lyssie finds strength through strange and beautiful postures, I need to carry photos and words of times when I am on top of my independence and confidence game.

I probably wouldn't carry all of those portrait photos from the four proms that I went to during my junior year of high school, either. Maybe I'd write, "Take a message" on a piece of paper and then crinkle it up. Or maybe I'll just carry myself.




*When I looked for a picture of the Ridge, I found that link. It hits the tone of what stupid teenagers think of the place:

"Known to the locals as The Ridge... The best Diner on the face of the earth. This diner is known for high school kids to hang out outside until 3AM. ALso, after kids get drunk/high they flock to The Ridge.

I just had a sweet night in Bergen County and my friends and I are drunk. Hey let's go to the Ridge Diner! "



PS Mom, I wasn't drunk or high when I went there.... most of the time.