Out of Place

My comfort zone ended
At the front door.
I knew at once
That I had chosen my dress
Poorly.

Blue jeans
Would be right
For a backyard barbecue
But all wrong
For this milling group
Of the higher class
Each with their drink in hand
Making small talk.

Me with my blank head
Thinking
Of nothing at all to say.
Sipping my one glass
Of fine white wine
That has unpleasantly
Warmed.

Feeling like a trapped and
Frightened mouse,
In a house of poised
And entertaining cats
Who seem convinced
The answer to my quietness
Would be
Another drink.

O! God
I’m so out of place!
All this
And no mouse hole
For escape.

 


It was a very difficult weekend for me.  Friday evening and Saturday morning we spent with some great friends – down to earth and fun.  But Saturday evening!!!  I impressed no one – especially myself with my awkwardness.  I wish – well I wish a lot of things that are not likely to come to pass.  Like that I would suddenly become gifted at small talk.  That I would come out with some charming thing to say that would make them realize that I am perfectly fine with one glass of wine even if it takes all night for me to drink it and to be perfectly honest –  if I am really thirsty – wine or beer is not what I would choose to slake my thirst. 

The highlight of the evening was Leo arguing with a very self absorbed woman about the merits of treating addictions without locking up the young people for a forced change of lifestyle.  And then she came out with the statement that “wouldn’t it be much better if we could live in a drug free society” – as in all drugs for all illnesses.  Not so sure about that since I would have died as a child.  It would be even nicer to live in an illness free society in my opinion.  Including mental illness – which I felt a bit like I was suffering from myself about then.

It is good for so many reasons to be back home.

Buy and Sell text links

Comments Off on Out of Place

Filed under Dealing with stuff

0 responses to “Out of Place

  1. Oh Linea, you sound just like me!

    The village we live in is somewhat stratified, with the council house people (ex farm labourers) the ‘professionals’ and those with ‘good’ backgrounds and family money. We’ve been here 14 years, and have only really been accepted by some people in the last 2 or 3. There are those that still don’t really want anything to do with us because we aren’t from the ‘right’ backgroud.

    Trying to to talk to some is just like you described. I can small talk somewhat because I’ve had to learn to do so for work purposes. But when it comes to private life, I’m much more likely to be sitting in a corner somewhere, wishing I were somewhere else.

    Take comfort from Leo’s conversation – at least it shows that beneath that shiny surface lies as much ignorance and need as any other person.

  2. Clearly a comment from a person who has never been seriously ill or known someone with a chronic illness. I had a kidney transplant over 20 years ago. Without my meds, I’d be dead in a few weeks.

  3. Ah, but I suspect they didn’t even notice your discomfort, because of your beauty and charm.

  4. Sharon

    I’m no conversationalist either in groups of folk I don’t know….I would far rather listen than offer any “bright” comments. Today, I’d like to just find that mouse hole and crawl in….Lorna passed away Saturday morning early…and she asked me to say some things at her funeral tomorrow…..I’ll have to crawl out for that…