I'm kind of a charmer.
Really.
I'm an acquired taste-- "Like sushi," says the Canadian. Or dark chocolate, perhaps? Instead of raw fish?
We've determined that it takes me a while to get to know people and it takes people a while to warm up to me. But something I've learned, and have become more forthcoming about is that when I put my mind to it, I have the manipulative skills to get anyone I want to to really really like me. A lot. Seriously.
I have used this skill many times throughout my life. As a child, teachers fought over who would get me in their class. And once I set my sights on someone who I want to like me, it usually only takes a few weeks to accomplish my goal. It's manipulative, sure, I guess. But it comes from a very real desire on my part to get to know someone and be close to a person who I think is wonderful. So in the end we've both gotten what we want. Or, what we think we want.
So when I (and this doesn't happen often, although it's occurring more and more recently) come across a person who is so clearly indifferent to me, someone who, even after a handful of meetings in which I've turned on the requisite charm and the pizazz, seems as disengaged as on Day 1, I get even more intrigued.
My, oh, my, what is it that makes these people so incredibly fantastic, unique and intelligent that they can see through my witticisms, self-deprecation and sparkly silences?!
And then I get mildly needy.
Like me. Please. LIKE ME.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
"How do you change the world?"
If you know me you know that I struggle with "getting to know-yous." The prospect of a party in which I know less than 30% of the attendees makes me sweat. I have a difficult time coming up with questions to ask that are not boring and cliche. I sometimes forget that you're not supposed to just talk about yourself when you meet a new person. I know that makes me sound like a narcissistic, self-absorbed bitch, but I don't think I necessarily am. Maybe. But hear me out: "Me" is something I know about. I can be charming about. Self-deprecating about. Other things-- the election, climate change, DC culture-- I am considerably less well-informed about. And speaking about important things ups the chances someone will find out just how ignorant I am about important things. Which is the problem with living in DC. Nearly everyone is smart and well-informed half-nerds. So I have trouble.
I am trying to get better.
Good friends down the street had a fabulous party a few weeks ago. There were popsicles, a sprinkler, and delish, yes that's right: DELISH! strawberry rhubarb pie made by the Canadian. I was doing very well in conversation. I was reconnecting with some college people I hadn't seen in a long time and I was meeting some nice new climate change action folks-- a group I have come to quite enjoy. I was doing well-- being myself, being honest, talking about mutual interests-- I was channeling all the normalcy and coolness I could. I began talking to a girl wearing a fake straw cowboy hat.
I should have known from her headwear that she was bad news. I'll breeze by the agregious fashion choice and merely remind the wearer that it is no longer 2003. I should have sensed before we began speaking that anyone who wears a straw cowboy hat to a house party on a Saturday night in Washington, DC is begging for attention. I also found out later, that unlike many of the people I met at the party that night she is not even from the Midwest-- where donning a cowboy hat might signify something of heritage or at the very least be a high-quality family heirloom. No. She was born and raised in North East DC. Which may or may not explain a lot.
Hat girl: "Oh, yes, well, I have created for myself some super important politico non-profit orgnization. I use my many persuasive powers and my army of magical cowboy hats to send young, impressionable Dems into battle in the Red States. The young Dems secretly infiltrate the lives of the Right and slowly convince them to vote for Obama. We're using they're own "missionary" technology against them. So far we think it's really working. They are a very open minded group, the Right Wing. What do you do?"
Me: "I'm an actor."
Hat girl: "Oh. Wow. That's great, you know! I think that's....great. I think I really would have loved to do something like that with my life if I had the...If I... didn't feel so self-indulgent."
Me: "Hmmm."
Hat girl: "I mean-- you know what I mean."
Me: "...Yeah."
Hat girl: "So...how do you get involved in theatre in DC?"
Me: Same ol' jargon about making connections, having friends, auditioning, *smile* *sigh* *self deprecating chuckle*
Hat girl: "No, I mean, how do you...get involved?? Other than going on auditions, obviously. Do you do political work? Do you donate your time?"
Don't you strive for change and happiness and correctness? Don't you use all your energy and brain to support Obama like the good well-educated young Dem you are? Surely, you attend bi-weekly rallies? And give to Green Peace? And you call yourself a Liberal! Don't you do anything AT ALL to better the world and the people in it while you're getting rejected over and over at auditions and dreaming up ways to fund an artistic endeavor? However could you dream of being so self-absorbed that you're willing to spend your early 20s knee-deep in debt, not making any money in pursuit of bringing a little bit of art and culture to a world and city without any room to breathe? What a stupid, self-indulgent twat you are, Caitlin. Really.
I am trying to get better.
Good friends down the street had a fabulous party a few weeks ago. There were popsicles, a sprinkler, and delish, yes that's right: DELISH! strawberry rhubarb pie made by the Canadian. I was doing very well in conversation. I was reconnecting with some college people I hadn't seen in a long time and I was meeting some nice new climate change action folks-- a group I have come to quite enjoy. I was doing well-- being myself, being honest, talking about mutual interests-- I was channeling all the normalcy and coolness I could. I began talking to a girl wearing a fake straw cowboy hat.
I should have known from her headwear that she was bad news. I'll breeze by the agregious fashion choice and merely remind the wearer that it is no longer 2003. I should have sensed before we began speaking that anyone who wears a straw cowboy hat to a house party on a Saturday night in Washington, DC is begging for attention. I also found out later, that unlike many of the people I met at the party that night she is not even from the Midwest-- where donning a cowboy hat might signify something of heritage or at the very least be a high-quality family heirloom. No. She was born and raised in North East DC. Which may or may not explain a lot.
Hat girl: "Oh, yes, well, I have created for myself some super important politico non-profit orgnization. I use my many persuasive powers and my army of magical cowboy hats to send young, impressionable Dems into battle in the Red States. The young Dems secretly infiltrate the lives of the Right and slowly convince them to vote for Obama. We're using they're own "missionary" technology against them. So far we think it's really working. They are a very open minded group, the Right Wing. What do you do?"
Me: "I'm an actor."
Hat girl: "Oh. Wow. That's great, you know! I think that's....great. I think I really would have loved to do something like that with my life if I had the...If I... didn't feel so self-indulgent."
Me: "Hmmm."
Hat girl: "I mean-- you know what I mean."
Me: "...Yeah."
Hat girl: "So...how do you get involved in theatre in DC?"
Me: Same ol' jargon about making connections, having friends, auditioning, *smile* *sigh* *self deprecating chuckle*
Hat girl: "No, I mean, how do you...get involved?? Other than going on auditions, obviously. Do you do political work? Do you donate your time?"
Don't you strive for change and happiness and correctness? Don't you use all your energy and brain to support Obama like the good well-educated young Dem you are? Surely, you attend bi-weekly rallies? And give to Green Peace? And you call yourself a Liberal! Don't you do anything AT ALL to better the world and the people in it while you're getting rejected over and over at auditions and dreaming up ways to fund an artistic endeavor? However could you dream of being so self-absorbed that you're willing to spend your early 20s knee-deep in debt, not making any money in pursuit of bringing a little bit of art and culture to a world and city without any room to breathe? What a stupid, self-indulgent twat you are, Caitlin. Really.
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