Romancing my Social Issues

I'm a bad friend. I'm pretty sure I am. This is why- no close lady friends.

Isn't that the logical conclusion? I've decided so. It's either because I'm a bad friend, or because I'm chubby, or because I drink too much at dinner parties. Okay, now I'm not sure what the problem is anymore.

But seriously, I think I'm doing something wrong. I have this problem that I have decided to call "social retardation." It happens when I think I'm friends with someone and, in the worst instances, sometimes I think we are best friends. Only later I discover that we're not really very good friends. But it doesn't involve any dramatic fights or angry exchanges. It's just a quiet realization that I stumble upon. Like, oh maybe we're not best friends since I didn't get invited to your wedding when all of our other mutual friends did, even the dumb ones. And, I just socially and psychologically stumble away, horrified and embarrassed. I avoid the other person forever, but not because I'm angry. I'm secretly humiliated.

Once when my husband tried to give me a one-on-one intervention on my social retardation issue, he asked me "Who are your friends that you can call on the phone when you have problems?" And when I started down the list, he interrupted me to say, "No. Your family members who live in a different state don't count."  What the crap? What about bitching to co-workers about a puking kid last night or whatever? Holy smokes, I'm not completely reclusive and alone. I'm married, damn it.

But this is the point, I am a social romantic and I am not a self-pitying gal. It is better to love and not be invited to the wedding, than to never love at all. This is not a "poor me" blog. This is a manifesto. And I declare- I will find you lady friend and I will never be the only lady drinking too much at the dinner party again. Uh, or something.