going fishing, or how i learned to take one to know one

Originally uploaded by kristalynn.

there are blogs out there that get a gagillion hits a day and ones where people vie to leave the first comment . it gives me blog envy, or blenvy.

i, on the other hand, check my sites 239 times a day to see who has commented. i do have readers - i see the numbers. but the better part of them – you – lurk. you lurk in, you lurk out, without leaving any evidence of your visit.

i don't know why this comes as any surprise. i'm a wallflower (“a shy or retiring person who remains unnoticed at social events, especially a woman without a dance partner.”). so it should be commonsensical that i attract that type of reader. birds of a feather lurk together.


i'm the one who'll be conversing with a charming young man at a party when someone else will step right in front of me to greet this person. i used to walk away, but now i often just stick around, a mere two inches behind said impertinence until they inevitably step on me.

"oh," they'll say looking over their shoulder, surprised to see someone.

they'll receive an explanation from the person to whom i was once speaking.

"oh, this is your girlfriend?" they'll say, reluctantly extending their hand to me.

i've also been at perfunctorily horrible weddings when the perfunctorily horrible "get-up-on-the-dance-floor" song plays.

"woo!" i'll exclaim, raising-the-roof.

and as "mambo #5" plays on, the ever-enthusiastic "dance circle" will form, and consequently close, sealing all breaches and leaving me on its periphery.

lou bega and i will tough it out, with my "internal dialogue" telling me that i don't need to rely on being part of this kinship assemblage.

and then someone will step on me.

that circle member will turn around, curious as to what they could have possible stepped on (does anything exist outside of a dance circle?), wave in attempted apology, and then take his or her place in the center of the circle. it's time for their solo.

and with no further delay, my inner dialogue tells me that i'm actually not the "independent girl who doesn't need to be part of the dance circle", but instead "that loser who's dancing alone".

i retreat.

just the other day i was sitting with someone at a cafe when an acquaintance walked by.

"sit for a second," i offered. "pull up a chair."

they grabbed a chair from another table and promptly placed it on my foot.

"ow…" i mumbled, rubbing my toe.

"oh, sorry. didn't see you there..."

i'm extra careful when getting out of the back seat of 2-door cars due to an unfortunate door-slamming-on-leg incident during a visit to see my ("oh, she was on my side?") sister.

i'm invisible at parties, i'm unheard at dinners, and i'm stepped on during gatherings.

keep it up, commenters!