Being (passive) agressive

What exactly is friendship?

No, don't balk just yet, I promise some of this will be funny, as I find it hard to ever be serious while writing, unless I'm in a mood (and on a complaint-letter roll), talking books literature, or tequila.

I've unfortunately had to reconsider attributing the nomenclature 'friend' to some of the participants in my real life relationships lately. I've had to, for my own sanity's sake, begin thinking of some folks as awesome drinking buddies (one can never have enough on several different continents), hospitable natives, and cool occasional hang-out acquaintances (and perhaps even put some others away in the 'better off without them'-locker). I've had to realize that I don't exactly have friends in South Africa.

This is unfortunate I know, and something that hits an expatriate without any other network, hard, but at least I have all you lovely peeps to be friends with, 'cos I feel I really am. Friends. With you. And like B, I really can't be bothered any longer with trying to avoid the web. I drink too much, I eat too much, why not add to the list: hang out in the web too much. Zambia's already making it very hard to have the blogosphere as a full time occupation, and the country is actually enabling me to read a book while I surf (yup. takes that long to load anything), so why beat myself up about it.

I feel better now. About my addiction(s) that is, still brooding over the other issue.

So what exactly makes me so gloomy about real world people (as in peeps outside of this here laptop)?

Well (and this might come off as tad cryptic, but I'm trying to explain this stuff to myself as I write), first of all, I don't need pity company. I'd like to have real friends who want to hang out with me because of my 'glorious' (even I'm not conceited enough to leave the apostrophes out) personality, not people who feel they have to drag me along, because the hubby is away. I have always been extremely good at entertaining myself, and quite happy to do so. I am, after all, a very efficient part-time hermit. This aspect of my (bordering on multiplicitous) personality makes it possible for us to lead the country-hopping life we lead, makes it possible for us to not see our families more than once a year, and makes it possible for me to ignore my friends back in Finland, Denmark, USA, and Mexico for months (sometimes years) only to suddenly re-enter into their lives as if no time has passed (okay. I realize this might not work for them, but this is all about me, me, ME). However, the people who will let me do this will have my undying love and loyalty. You know who you are.

Secondly, I can't bring myself to completely embrace people whose views on life are totally opposite to mine, or perhaps even offensive to me. I welcome a good discussion and can agree to disagree (not really) with the best of them, but there are opinions and then there is hatred. And I tend to object to hatred. I know I have mentioned this before: sometimes opinions in South Africa wear me out. Really wear me out.

Thirdly, my barrenness is nobody's business but mine (and perhaps the hubby's). I don't need pity (clearly not big on pity) and I'm having a fairly easy time dealing with this specific issue. Children are not be all end all. If I hear one more person who is not supposed to know, since I for sure have not said anything to them, say "when if you have children" I will permanently relocate into the blogosphere and only come out for wine and coffee (hubby will be forced to come with me) and the occasional non-virtual blog camp. I don't need to discuss my barrenness. Also, I wish people would stop justifying them hurting their children by saying that we, the poor childless freaks that we are, will surely change our tune once we have our own. There are so many levels of wrong to this that I won't even respond. Corporal punishment is illegal where I come from, and rightly so.

Fourthly, regardless of the copious upon copious amounts of alcohol I am capable of consuming on a daily (not to mention weekly) basis I also like to engage in other activities. I don't mind the occasional drunken discussion about weird ways of trying to lose weight, or how someone's husband got caught cheating, but what I would really appreciate would be an elaborate, rather academic discussion on literature. I have been dying to yab over the significance of societal rules in Cunningham's The Hours, or the concept of happiness in Nemirovsky's Fire in the Blood. This is why I have been putting together a book club for months. But somehow, even though there have been numerous planned and unplanned occasions for drinking that everyone has been able to attend, none of the members have ever been able to make it to a book club meeting. 

Lastly, I don't need to be accepted. If people don't like me, they don't have to hang out with me.

I'm not sure I should post this, but I feel like being honest. Completely honest regardless of how misunderstood this all will get. But that's where I am right now - so beyond caring that I have effectually exiled myself.

Okay, maybe the funny really was missing today.