I'm a little concerned I'm becoming more socially awkward/retarded as this year progresses. There are certain indications that I may not be good in groups of new people. Or around people in general. These indicators include the following pieces of information:
1) While at a birthday party last week, one of the girls I was sitting with said she was thinking of ordering a salad for dinner. And, out of nowhere, I said, "People should only order salad if they have gout." Obviously there was little she could say. I still don't know what made me think of gout. I don't even fully know what gout is, other than the little bits of info I gleaned from that "King of the Hill" episode where Bobby gets gout from eating all those organ meats so he didn't have to take Connie to the school dance.
2) While at a birthday party tonight, I stuck up for Scott Baio during his "Happy Days" time and the questionable shift to "Joannie Loves Chachi", when he was still moderately hot. But, really, who defends Scott Baio's honour EVER in unfamiliar company? I believe this lowered my coolness factor and forever branded me with a giant red L for loser. I don't even like Scott Baio, which makes the whole thing worse.
3) When told not to mention anything about politics to a friend's friend, who is a Republican, I instead took the route of saying said-Republican was so smart he was stupid. To his face. And the comment was punctuated with crickets. And everyone laughed nervously. Except me. Because I am tactless and didn't realise that was not a great thing to say until I saw the looks of disbelief on everyone's faces. Oops.
4) Today alone I said I suspected I was crazy and/or retarded about 36 times at work. I fear my Thursday supervisor and co-workers are starting to believe me. Especially when I tell lame stories about composting, which I did at 4 different times in a 7.5 hour shift. I can't even keep plants alive long enough to benefit from composting. What the hell am I doing talking about it like I know shit about it? I mean, I think the barrel thing in my garden thing is a composting barrel, but I'm too terrified to investigate it. I have a secret fear that it's full of spring-loaded worms that are going to jump out at me and try to wrap themselves around my neck. Like in "Poltergeist", only not a scary clown. (Is anyone else afraid of clowns because of "Poltergeist"? Because I still am. And porcelain-faced dolls. And TV screens that have snow. And that small woman who was in it and was also in "Sixteen Candles" who played the organ and had squeaky shoes.)
5) Midway through drinks with co-workers this evening, I suddenly decided that they needed to know that my dad started the game farm in Penticton. No idea why. Completely unrelated to our conversation at that moment. And then I needed to tell more odd facts about my dad, even though the conversation didn't call for them and there was no window of opportunity to relate them to anything we were talking about. I seem to use dad stories a lot in conversation recently, even though it's never relevant to the conversation. This seems odd to me, so it must to others as well.
I'm having a housewarming on Saturday and am the slightest bit concerned that it will be this time that I completely ostracize myself from everyone I know with the questionable conversation topics.
Unrelated, next Friday the 21st the Leather Uppers are playing at the Waldorf. I'm going. Are you? Seriously... "Carne Mysterioso" is the best song ever. I'll be the one completely embarassing myself near the bands.
Currently listening :
Cast Away the Clouds
By Rose Melberg
Release date: 25 April, 2006
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