04 July, 2009

Stage Left. Immediately.

What a lovely surprise to finally discover how unlonely being alone can be" -Ellen Burstyn

I can't even tell what a bad roommate I am. I don't know if it comes from having my own room my whole life, or just the fact that I am actually like a dog who thinks that wherever she pees claims the territory as her own. Or, maybe I'm just a spineless moron who lets people walk all over her until she feels so imposed upon, she shuts down completely and doesn't even try and act hospitable anymore.

How, do you ask, can one have a 3 bedroom house to herself , yet still complain that she lacks solitude? Because I don't have it all to myself, i answer. To me, if someone were to say to me, "I'm staying in tonight", I would take that as, "Okay, this person is going to relax at home in her undies, maybe have a glass of vino in the tub before falling asleep to a Cameron Diaz romantic comedy. I guess I will call someone else to see what they are up to."

What wouldn' t I do? I wouldn't drive over to that persons house, because I dunno, MAYBE they actually are in their undies, OR maybe they are even spending some "alone time" with a "certain someone" and maybe I will knock at a very critical moment for both of them and *kinda* ruin things. I DUNNO.

Part of me feels like the chick in A frickin' New England Nun and like maybe I'm being like a control freak and I only want people over when I want them over.

But then I remember, oh fucking yeah, it's MY GODDAMN HOUSE so why the fuck shouldn't I feel like that???? Why shouldn't I be able to find peace in my own home? Why shouldn't I be able to spend an afternoon chatting on facebook and catching up on my blog reading, then BBQ at dusk because that's what I want to do. I guess I'm struggling with the concept that, despite being the rent payer, I, right now, am not doing what I want to do with my Saturday night. Instead I'm watching motherfucking Donnie Darko for the 8 gazillionth time, and not because I wanted to watch it. Heavens no. Nevermind what the fucking person who lives here wants to do or watch. Je-sus.

Instead I'm sitting in the dark corner of the living room, sulking and engaging myself in some sort of defiant hunger strike because I feel like if I go to the kitchen to make something, I'll have to make something for everyone, and that would signify hospitality and kindness. Neither of which I feel in the slightest right now.

I guess I like my home to be a place I can go to be alone. I don't like it to be the place where everyone comes to just lounge around and waste a day/night. I'd prefer they waste it somewhere not in my presence. I kinda like have my own time to waste, thanks. And I kinda like to do it alone. Shoe, fly.

Also, since I am used to living by myself, I have gotten accustomed to spending my days alone and enjoying some solitude, and so by the time night comes around, I'm ready to roll and socialize my little ass off. Nowadays, it's the total opposite: people everywhere, all the time. And, it's a bit frustrating and I'm not taking to the change very well, unfortunately.

Part of me thinks I am being selfish, but most of me thinks that I am just spineless.

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