Looking for shortcuts

[scottahill]

While getting our drivers' licenses the other week, I figured out that I've had licenses from five different states (PA, IL, MA, TX, OH), and have lived in 9 different cities (Easton PA, Williamstown, Chicago, Evanston, Lowell MA, Boston, Dallas, Irving TX, and now Toledo). Each new town meant meeting new people, making new friends, joining new communities. During my first move, to college, I was excited by the prospect of new surroundings, and in my ebullience I met my future wife and joined the a cappella group that has given me most of my friends. As the moves have added up, however, I've gotten tired of having to start all over again. I'm really not very good at it: I have a terrible time remembering people's names (outside of the classroom), I'm not good at smalltalk, and I'm terribly self-centered. So somewhere along the line my subconscious has decided to look for shortcuts, and has been on the lookout for the friendship equivalent of "love at first sight": meeting someone and immediately hitting it off with them. That's great, but it's probably rare; making friends is normally a more gradual process. The problem with focusing on the shortcut approach is that (a) I'm inclined to make snap judgements about people when I meet them, (b) I obsess about the people that I would like to be friends with, which makes me feel awkward around them, and (c) it makes me feel disappointed by the more traditional methods. When Miriam and I attend the weekly storytime at the library, and see the same people there, I should feel good that I'm slowly building a sense of familiarity, instead of being mad at myself for not striking up a great conversation.

Maybe most people learn these things from dating; since I never dated anyone besides Jen, most of my friend-making woes sound remarkably like dating woes, at least to my ears.

Another problem is that when I was in Easton, I was a big fish in a small pond: the "smart" kid in elementary school, valedictorian, etc. Being a big fish meant I was a big target, so it wasn't always a joy, but I never felt anonymous, and I was used to it. I wasn't such a big fish in college, but I had some prominence in my circles. When I moved to Chicago, however, I was reduced to insignificance: such a large city, such an intimidating department. It's a feeling I hate. It's why I hate large cities, why I hate large crowds, probably why I didn't do well in choirs. It sounds selfish of course, but it's not that I want to be THE important person in the room; I just want to feel like I matter. Maybe that I'm contributing. That I'm appreciated. Some acclaim would be nice too. :)

(And yes, I matter to Jen and Miriam, but that's a different feeling, I don't know why. Maybe it's just "pessimistic thinking", always ready to make excuses for good things that I already have.)