I realize the title of this post has absolutely nothing to do with what I'm writing.
It happens.
I have a lot of thoughts running through my head, because of work, because of a book I'm reading, and because of social situations in general. The first is how much I hate it when people lie, whether to themselves or to others. The truth is almost always the best option. If people were just honest about their feelings, others would be able to help them. They can't if they don't know what's wrong, or even that anything is wrong in the first place. Maybe I just speak my mind too much, but reading books and reading what people are supposedly thinking as the events are taking place, it really bugs me when they keep their thoughts to themselves. I guess they can't see the big picture and realize it will help everyone if they just say "hey mom, the reason this bugs me is this." Is it really that hard? I guess this is kind of a random and pointless rant, but the book scenarios were just the start of my thought process. All it's left me to conclude, however, is that honesty is the best policy.
Also, people at work bug me sometimes. This is entirely unrelated to books and honesty (but who knows, maybe I'll end up tying it into honesty somehow). I don't understand why I don't get treated the same as the rest of the "in" crowd, or whatever you want to call them. They're nice and friendly to me, but when they start planning some big party or whatever, they don't bother to invite me. It's pretty much gonna be everyone at work that they like, which apparently doesn't include me. It's not like they're trying to hide its existence from those of us who aren't cool enough to receive an invite, either. I've heard them talk about it on multiple occasions with various different people. (Yes I know that's a repetitive phrase, but I don't even care right now.) What makes me different than them? Is it something I did? Something I said? Or just who I am? Sometimes I think maybe I try too hard. In the book I'm reading, the girl talks about how maintaining popularity is hard work, and that at any moment the platform could fall and you'd be stranded on your own. (See look, I ended talking about my book anyway.) She says "ask a random kid today if she wants to be popular and she'll tell you no, even if the truth is that if she was in a desert dying of thirst and had the choice between a glass of water and instant popularity, she'd probably choose the latter." Seriously? I'd take the freaking water. I'm thirsty just thinking about it. But for some reason, I still try to be like them; still get offended when they don't invite me.
I keep saying I don't care what people thinking, but truth of the matter is, everyone cares, and I'm no exception. There are definitely moments when I care less, but there are also those where I still care too much. "It happens to everyone as they grow up. You find out who you are and what you want, and you realize that the people you have known forever don't see the things the way you do. And so you keep the memories, but find yourself moving on" (Nicholas Sparks). When I reblogged this on tumblr recently, I commented that I also realized that the people I used to want to be like aren't the kind of people I want to be around anymore. I used to think they were cool, but now I have realized that they are not. I haven't admitted this to anyone before, but when I first met my roommates at the beginning of last year, just after seeing them the first day or two I thought they were going to be your classic "in crowd" or whatever. A few of them had gone out hot tubbing that first night, while I was left alone at the apartment. At first I wasn't too thrilled at the thought of living with them. But when I saw the roommates my other friends had ended up with, older and more mature, I thought I was glad I got to have the young, fun ones. I saw it as being a break-through, that maybe I'd be friends with the cool kids, and become cool by defect. Of course that's what I had wanted in high school but never got. But as I got to know my roommates, I realized, yes, they were cool and people liked them, but that was because they were nice. They were genuine. They had testimonies. I grew to love them for all that they are. When it came down to it, however, and I could hang out with a bunch of kids in the ward that everyone loved and were fun to be with, there was still something missing. That personal connection, that bond. I came to realize over the course of this year, that while being friends with the cool kids has its perks, what I really needed were true friends. At the end of the day, if I could go talk to one of my best friends, anything else that had happened that day didn't matter anymore. I love them.
Maybe the reason this thing at work is bugging me is the fact that I don't even have any friends to fall back on since they don't care to be my friend. Sure, I've got plenty of friends, but the problem is, they're all between being 40 minutes away to being in Alaska. What am I supposed to do now when I need someone to talk to, tell me I'm great, to reassure me in my moments of self-doubt? Well, I guess the answer I've chosen is to blog, but that'll only get me so far. I miss social interactions. I miss my best friends; all of them. There are between eight and ten people I wish would never be far away. Oh, what's that, I'm moving to Logan where they'll all be 125 miles (2 hours in good traffic) away? With the exception of one who will only be 45 miles away, which is still an hour, but wait, I don't have a car. This is turning into a pity party. Too bad my brother ate the last of the ice cream. I really don't know what I'm talking about anymore.
I guess what it comes down to is, friends are necessary for survival. To be liked is not just a desire, but a need. I do like my alone time, but too much of it isn't good for the health. Case in point, these rambling posts. It doesn't matter what people think, but that doesn't stop us from caring. I miss my friends immensely. I love them more than they know.
One more thing blogging has made me realize about myself: I am selfish.
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