Skip to main content

A Bit of Sarcasm to Get Me Through

A Bit of Sarcasm to Get Me Through
(concerned that the written word will not project my true feelings, please note that most of this post is pure sarcasm)

I am a neurotic wingnut.

We have met people, had a great evening, made plans for another time and since I have not heard from them, I am panicking.

I am now, automatically assuming, if I go out with people and we set a date to do things, that if they have not called, they do not like me.

I am such an annoying, pathetic, irritating person that the thought of spending one second with me must revolt them so much to the point that they are refusing to call. Ever again.

It is not that perhaps they have other life commitments. Isn't everyone like me? Not knowing many people and going out simply to find friends and hang out with them 24/7?

It is not that people, in general, always make plans and then never follow through. When I was in Toronto I NEVER called last minute on a friend because of work or tiredness or just plain forgot to call at all. No, I never did that. Really. Ask them.

It is not that people don't socialize EVERY DAY with their friends. What do you mean you don't go out with your friends EVERY night of a long weekend and then email and text them about it during the next week?

It is simply that I am a loser and after spending one evening with me, they have decided they have done a public service by humouring me and entertaining me but do not feel the need - nor have the desire - to have to subject themselves to my presence again.

I have been in Belfast FOREVER - is it only over a month? - and have not been able to pin down ANY friends to hang out with.

I have been out with different people on separate occasions and since I have not heard from one of them a second time, I am not worthy of friends.

I am truly hoping my exaggerations are correct. Otherwise, it's going to be a long couple of years. If they are correct, I'm really going to have to nip that "why wouldn't they like me?" phrase out of my vocabulary as it will crush what little self esteem I will have left.

This is not meant to be a whining email. It is meant to be a wake up call for myself.

Just because everything else has fallen into place in Belfast does not mean I am going to meet my *kindred spirit* within a month of living in a new city. Perhaps I have enough kindred spirits spread over Canada, the U.S. and England. One more and maybe my head will explode.

Thank goodness for the telephone. If I can't see my good friends in person, at least I can hear them.

*****

ANOTHER ISSUE OF MOSAIC MINDS COMING SOON!!

Popular posts from this blog

I'm baaaack!

Hard to believe that last entry was almost three years ago!

Many moons ago, I set this blog up to chronicle our journeys. Once we were grounded a bit more, it kind of lost its way. I spent some time working on my writing offline, taking on different projects and working full time as a technical writer. It was difficult to keep this blog up. Not for any real reason I can articulate. Just had my words redirected to other avenues for awhile.
But, I'm pleased to say, after over a decade away, we are back in the UK, living and re-experiencing a place we enjoyed in the mid-2000s.
Social media has certainly changed the way we look at blogs. I'm excited to navigate this new world, explore just what people post, what people read. What's better on one of the many new platforms and what's still appropriate for good old fashioned blogosphere.
For now, here's a peek at where we're staying -- in a pretty little village just outside of Oxford. A temporary home for now but suc…

Focus

My regular journaling has significantly improved my mood.

I've been taking some time, twice a week, to polish existing content as well as develop my floating ideas into a more concrete outline.

I've felt this focus for the last 6 weeks that I can't really describe properly. It's as though I've shifted my thinking totally. Writing is my craft. It's what I do, who I am, how I exist. It's like my mojo.

So, I guess, I've gotten my mojo back. My focus, my purpose, my essence.

And it feels good. It feels right. And I am almost understanding more now why the best writing of the best writers happens when they are older, more polished, more experienced, more rough around the edges.

When all the youthful spark has been extinguished and what's left, is the determined embers, that will not go softly, that will not die out. That will continue, fervently glowing, creating warmth and not just drawing attention from its flicker, but pulling people in by it's so…

In Remembrance

"In Flanders fields the poppies blow
      Between the crosses, row on row,."

When I was eight years old, I carried the Canadian flag in the Remembrance Day parade for our Brownie unit. I can't really remember when I realized the importance of November 11 but I can only imagine that somewhere between learning about that day at school and taking part in a very solemn ceremony that it must have been ingrained in my head to always mark this day.

   "That mark our place; and in the sky
   The larks, still bravely singing, fly"

I remember growing up, the assemblies at school, always with a older veterans, in those days many from both World Wars, would attend. When I got to high school, I remember not being able to fathom how these decorated men and women, had once been my age, had once stood up and fought, and had made these decisions during the same years I would try to decide which route to take from English to Science just to maybe catch a glimpse of my current cru…