Apparently, music festivals make me reflective. And give me feelings. And make me want to talk about those feelings.
(This sat in draft for more than a month now. I've decided to publish it because, I'm not 100% mortified by it like I thought I would be.)
(Shut up Jen, nobody cares about your feelings. Get on with objectifying bass players and talking about drunk frat boys.)
Want to skip ahead to the music?
Day 1
Day 2
Day 3
So, I went to Lollapalooza this past week-end. I was in Chicago for work and figured I'd stay the extra couple of days to hit the festival. You see, I knew some folks were going and figured it would be a fun chance to see some old friends and some great music. Plus, who doesn't love a good festival?
The festival was amazing - a mix of interesting people, douchey children in high-waisted jean shorts, performances from old favorites, new bands to be enamored with, sunshine, mud, Bud Light, and a really sweet tan line on my wrist from the bracelet. It was a really fun week-end.
However, it didn't quite start out that way. So, like I said, I knew a couple of people who were also attending and had talked to prior to the week-end about meeting up. I wasn't panic-y about details and knew I'd be doing my own thing for some of the time, but was really excited to see some friendly faces. That...didn't end up happening. And there was a moment on Friday when I realized it wasn't going to happen and I got really, really sad. And so, I decided that for 15 minutes, I got to be really, really sad. I bought myself an ice cream cone, sat down on a curb and set a 15 minute timer on my phone. This is what I thought about:
Since moving to California, I've been lonely. It's the first time in my whole life that I've felt that way; I've never minded being alone, or doing things on my own. But, since moving, I've had to do pretty much everything on my own and that's hard. And sure, I'm meeting people - some more awesome than others - but I haven't really found my people. It's been harder than I thought it was going to be.
But, I wonder if this is part of a larger problem for me. So often, I end up being disappointed in people because they don't respond like I would. Like, I don't understand how a friend from Buffalo would come to San Francisco for work and not tell me. Or, I don't get how it was so complicated to try to see people in Chicago. Those are things that are not questions in my mind - you make an effort for people. It's what you do. Or, at least, I feel like it's what I try to do.
(And, let's be clear - I'm not a moron. Everyone has their own shit going on. The folks I was hoping to see in Chicago had their own friends and their own agendas and, frankly, cell service in the park was shitty. It's also not like these are people I'm particularly close to. I am fully aware that they don't owe me anything. It's just... life in California makes me feel like nobody gives a shit about me and a little bit of kindness would have gone a long way. Plus, I was just actually excited to see them? And, again, that wasn't their job. And, I get that. But, understanding all that academically doesn't take all the sting out of constantly being alone or about saying, "I can literally meet you any time and any where, please just let me know," and hearing nothing. And, one of my philosophies is, "If you want to do something, you find a way; if you don't, you find excuses." It's not fun to be the "excuses" part of that.)
Anyway, I was sad about being alone. I was wondering if I'm just unlikable or if the reason I feel like people don't make an effort is simply because I'm not fun to be around. Or maybe I expect too much from people. Or maybe people just aren't like me. Sometimes I feel like I'm the "reacher" in every personal relationship I have. I mean, why don't I have friends to go to a music festival with? What's wrong with me? I feel like I'm a good person - am I not? Why am I having so much trouble making friends? Am I going to be this lonely forever? Or is what my mom says true, that people just don't expect me to need anything because I'm so self-sufficient? Plus, if I say any of this out loud, at any time, then people give me that weird pitying look and I cannot stand being pitied. To show sadness of any kind is to show weakness and it's my operative never to show weakness. Maybe that's why I can't make friends? Am I actually just an asshole who pushes everyone away?
(And again, I'm not a moron. This is big and dramatic and overblown. And, honestly, I know that people don't think about me even one fraction of a fraction of a fraction of the amount I think about myself so a lot of this is moot. But, if I was giving myself 15 minutes to be sad, I was going to let it all in so I didn't have deal with it again any time soon.)
Anyway, then I started thinking about the TV show 'Girls'. I have a lot of problems with it because while, on paper, that's my generation, what I see on the show is generally not in any way reflective of me personally. There's one exception. In Season Two's much buzzed about episode, 'One Man's Trash', the main character, Hannah, embarks on a steamy two-day affair with an older, super hot guy. Partway through, she freaks out and says, "I want to be happy. I didn’t think I did. I made a promise such a long time ago that I was going to take in experiences, all of them, so I could tell other people and maybe save them. But it gets so tiring, trying to take in all the experiences... I’m not different. I want what they all want. I want all the things. I just want to be happy." For a moment, I completely got where she was coming from.
So here's the thing. My life makes for good stories. I do a lot of stuff and engage with a lot of random people which means that I have a, "Oh gosh, one time..." story for pretty much any situation. People routinely tell me that they enjoy living my life vicariously. There's an adage somewhere that I'm going to muddle about experiences being pearls on a string or something and just like Johnny Rzeznik told me, it's always better to say yes. But sometimes that gets exhausting. Like, I have some great stories from this past week-end (and we'll get to them just as soon as I'm done with this tome of whine & self-indulgence) and I'm glad I have them. I'm glad I had these experiences because they're all part of a collective whole. But, sometimes, just like Hannah said, it gets exhausting trying to be the one to take in all the experiences. This past week-end, I was less interested in collecting stories and more interested in not being alone. That's just not the way it worked out.
When my 15 minute timer went off, I decided that I was done being sad and, at the end of the day, everything turned out fine. I had a really fun week-end, saw some awesome bands, talked to a lot of random, interesting people, and really enjoyed myself.
I've still got some work to do on these themes of loneliness and expectation and what exactly I'm going to do with myself. But, the next time I get overwhelmed, hopefully, I can look back at this, set a 15 minute timer, and get over it.
(This sat in draft for more than a month now. I've decided to publish it because, I'm not 100% mortified by it like I thought I would be.)
(Shut up Jen, nobody cares about your feelings. Get on with objectifying bass players and talking about drunk frat boys.)
Want to skip ahead to the music?
Day 1
Day 2
Day 3
So, I went to Lollapalooza this past week-end. I was in Chicago for work and figured I'd stay the extra couple of days to hit the festival. You see, I knew some folks were going and figured it would be a fun chance to see some old friends and some great music. Plus, who doesn't love a good festival?
The festival was amazing - a mix of interesting people, douchey children in high-waisted jean shorts, performances from old favorites, new bands to be enamored with, sunshine, mud, Bud Light, and a really sweet tan line on my wrist from the bracelet. It was a really fun week-end.
However, it didn't quite start out that way. So, like I said, I knew a couple of people who were also attending and had talked to prior to the week-end about meeting up. I wasn't panic-y about details and knew I'd be doing my own thing for some of the time, but was really excited to see some friendly faces. That...didn't end up happening. And there was a moment on Friday when I realized it wasn't going to happen and I got really, really sad. And so, I decided that for 15 minutes, I got to be really, really sad. I bought myself an ice cream cone, sat down on a curb and set a 15 minute timer on my phone. This is what I thought about:
Since moving to California, I've been lonely. It's the first time in my whole life that I've felt that way; I've never minded being alone, or doing things on my own. But, since moving, I've had to do pretty much everything on my own and that's hard. And sure, I'm meeting people - some more awesome than others - but I haven't really found my people. It's been harder than I thought it was going to be.
But, I wonder if this is part of a larger problem for me. So often, I end up being disappointed in people because they don't respond like I would. Like, I don't understand how a friend from Buffalo would come to San Francisco for work and not tell me. Or, I don't get how it was so complicated to try to see people in Chicago. Those are things that are not questions in my mind - you make an effort for people. It's what you do. Or, at least, I feel like it's what I try to do.
(And, let's be clear - I'm not a moron. Everyone has their own shit going on. The folks I was hoping to see in Chicago had their own friends and their own agendas and, frankly, cell service in the park was shitty. It's also not like these are people I'm particularly close to. I am fully aware that they don't owe me anything. It's just... life in California makes me feel like nobody gives a shit about me and a little bit of kindness would have gone a long way. Plus, I was just actually excited to see them? And, again, that wasn't their job. And, I get that. But, understanding all that academically doesn't take all the sting out of constantly being alone or about saying, "I can literally meet you any time and any where, please just let me know," and hearing nothing. And, one of my philosophies is, "If you want to do something, you find a way; if you don't, you find excuses." It's not fun to be the "excuses" part of that.)
Anyway, I was sad about being alone. I was wondering if I'm just unlikable or if the reason I feel like people don't make an effort is simply because I'm not fun to be around. Or maybe I expect too much from people. Or maybe people just aren't like me. Sometimes I feel like I'm the "reacher" in every personal relationship I have. I mean, why don't I have friends to go to a music festival with? What's wrong with me? I feel like I'm a good person - am I not? Why am I having so much trouble making friends? Am I going to be this lonely forever? Or is what my mom says true, that people just don't expect me to need anything because I'm so self-sufficient? Plus, if I say any of this out loud, at any time, then people give me that weird pitying look and I cannot stand being pitied. To show sadness of any kind is to show weakness and it's my operative never to show weakness. Maybe that's why I can't make friends? Am I actually just an asshole who pushes everyone away?
(And again, I'm not a moron. This is big and dramatic and overblown. And, honestly, I know that people don't think about me even one fraction of a fraction of a fraction of the amount I think about myself so a lot of this is moot. But, if I was giving myself 15 minutes to be sad, I was going to let it all in so I didn't have deal with it again any time soon.)
Anyway, then I started thinking about the TV show 'Girls'. I have a lot of problems with it because while, on paper, that's my generation, what I see on the show is generally not in any way reflective of me personally. There's one exception. In Season Two's much buzzed about episode, 'One Man's Trash', the main character, Hannah, embarks on a steamy two-day affair with an older, super hot guy. Partway through, she freaks out and says, "I want to be happy. I didn’t think I did. I made a promise such a long time ago that I was going to take in experiences, all of them, so I could tell other people and maybe save them. But it gets so tiring, trying to take in all the experiences... I’m not different. I want what they all want. I want all the things. I just want to be happy." For a moment, I completely got where she was coming from.
So here's the thing. My life makes for good stories. I do a lot of stuff and engage with a lot of random people which means that I have a, "Oh gosh, one time..." story for pretty much any situation. People routinely tell me that they enjoy living my life vicariously. There's an adage somewhere that I'm going to muddle about experiences being pearls on a string or something and just like Johnny Rzeznik told me, it's always better to say yes. But sometimes that gets exhausting. Like, I have some great stories from this past week-end (and we'll get to them just as soon as I'm done with this tome of whine & self-indulgence) and I'm glad I have them. I'm glad I had these experiences because they're all part of a collective whole. But, sometimes, just like Hannah said, it gets exhausting trying to be the one to take in all the experiences. This past week-end, I was less interested in collecting stories and more interested in not being alone. That's just not the way it worked out.
When my 15 minute timer went off, I decided that I was done being sad and, at the end of the day, everything turned out fine. I had a really fun week-end, saw some awesome bands, talked to a lot of random, interesting people, and really enjoyed myself.
I've still got some work to do on these themes of loneliness and expectation and what exactly I'm going to do with myself. But, the next time I get overwhelmed, hopefully, I can look back at this, set a 15 minute timer, and get over it.
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