Not that I wanted friends anyway

Ok, first Official Post (as distinct from Unofficial Posts which would include the little screw-up with my picture that, instead of a tiny, discreet me in the profile, ended up as a humongous me in a post) not that it matters, since no one is actually reading this anyway.

I had one of those days yesterday where everything I said was cool, and interesting, and right. One of those days where everyone around me was hanging on my every word, anticipating every jewel that was falling from my lips. I was on a roll. I was hip and happening. I was cracking people up. Then I went home, got into bed and replayed my astoundingly clever and amusing conversations in my head and discovered that I'd actually been a negative, sarcastic ass-hole all day. Hmmm. Distressing. I guess all that laughter must have been at me, instead of with me. Either that or it was nervous, pained laughter provoked by the witnessing of something supremely uncomfortable and icky. Like the way one laughs when one has slipped and fallen and done a disturbing amount of damage to a very private portion of one's anatomy and one doesn't want others to know, or the way one laughs at someone else who had just done this. Of course, it could be that all my friends are negative, sarcastic ass-holes as well, and so didn't notice.

I don't think so.

Of course how to be sure? Apparently my grasp on reality lately is a little slow.

So, why do I mention this in my very first Official Post? I mention this because it seems to tie in with my hard-thought title. In other words, I am certain that everything I write here will be witty and incisive and very entertaining. But it's almost certain that 12 hours after I post I will regret everything said and wish I could take it all back, and 12 hours again will think it all perfect but a bit tarnished. And, of course, the very fact that so much hope is going into this will almost certainly guarantee that the worst of me occasionally will be on display.

I'm not writing this for those of you who are certainly not reading it, but rather for myself, so I can look back and point and say "Not that it was beautiful"...

Posted by Trista @ 10:55 AM

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