Chicken Express

This past weekend was a full plate for me. I attended two whole events! The first was a pre-fourth cookout with friends and family of friends. The second was a casual family wedding. At the former, I felt comfortable and composed as if I had a purpose and a place, a people with whom I belonged. This shindig bucked me up, in fact and left me with the impression that my next event would be easier than I was anticipating.

Oh silly, fleeting confidence.

The wedding was to take place out of state, so my brother and I set out at an inhumanly early hour to get to the airport and on to our final destination (the pic above may give you a clue as to where we went.). I’d love to blame exhaustion for the remainder of that day, but I think we all know the truth. From the moment we reached the airport I watched my brother sparkle and shine, entertaining all and sundry with caustic ribbing and educated (if slightly supercilious) opinions, while I, like a timid kitten, cowered wherever I was least likely to be noticed.

I don’t mean to imply I never spoke- I absolutely did- when expressly spoken to. This shouldn’t reflect on the company surrounding me- they could not have been friendlier. No, the problem was (and is) me. I don’t seem to know how to interact accordingly, you know, like an actual human being. Whenever conversation is broached my brain freezes up, panics and allows my tongue to respond only with succinct (often monosyllabic) sentences, devoid of embellishment. Poor tongue! As a result, people find me cold and move on quickly. I survived the day, but couldn’t help coming away feeling superfluous to the proceedings.

Because of my social ineptitude, I’ve returned from my travels apathetic and distant, choosing to languish in the doldrums, Fleet Foxes, Born Ruffians and LCD Soundsystem providing the soundtrack to my blahs, a trusty bag of M&Ms within easy reach. (I suppose if I’m an alien my candy of choice ought to be Reese’s Pieces, but it wouldn’t be compulsive behavior if it made any sense.)

A smile or two have managed to cross my features these past few days, so I’d like to take a moment to give credit to those responsible:

To Matt and Michaela for being so nice about this here blog;
To Sheri for not being too annoyed by my continuous poking;
To Benedict Cumberbatch for adopting the most fantastic and absurdly awful fake French accent;
And to Susan for being able to take a joke.

Happy Thursday, kids!