the loser

Nobody likes me, everybody hates me,
Guess I'll go eat worms,
Long, thin, slimy ones; Short, fat, juicy ones,
Itsy, bitsy, fuzzy, wuzzy worms

Down goes the first one, down goes the second one,
Oh how they wiggle and squirm
Up comes the first one, up comes the second one,
Oh how they wiggle and squirm

I learned this song when I was in elementary school. I am in my thirties now, and unlike the "Miss Suzie" songs that I used to jump rope to, I still sing this song to myself frequently. Especially on days like today. Because on days like today I am reminded that I am still the loser I always was; I'm the girl in the corner watching everyone, liking everyone, thinking that saying "hi" and talking about school, work, dogs, cats, etc. constitutes a "friendship." Or at least a friendly acquaintance. I am the girl that gets invited to, and goes to, parties, not realizing that the only parties I am actually invited to are always put on by the same two people. And I am that girl who talks to people at those parties, at school, or at work, and doesn't realize that most of them are probably looking for their opportunity to slip away: to "get a drink," to "talk to someone else," to "use the restroom," but really, just to get away from me.


You probably think I am blowing this way out of proportion, especially if you're one of those people that actually likes (perhaps even loves) me. I do have a tendency to do that. And don't get me wrong; I'm so grateful for the very good, very close friends I have (Julie, Danny, Ruthie, Nikki, Dana: I love you!). But rejection so blatant as that which I'm experiencing this weekend makes me feel a little un-loved. Loserly. Nerdy. "I like other people, why don't they like me?" type of thing.


Okay, so here's the situation. Yesterday, I decided to have a "game night" at my house, scheduled for tonight at 7:00 pm. Late notice, you say? Not where I'm at, in a college town of about 30,000 people and nothing but farms (or smaller towns) within a 30-mile circumference. My friends Dana, Stephanie, and Kate can plan shindigs two hours ahead of time and get a crowd of at least ten. So I talked to Dana, sent out evites to twelve people (whom I encouraged to invite more people), and prepared for a small gathering. I assumed I'd have at least the same people come out as are always at the parties I go to. Now, two hours before the gathering, I'm realizing what a loser I was to think that people would actually come out. Although people have viewed the evites, the only ones that have confirmed are Dana and Stephanie. Kate already had plans (she wasn't included in the twelve, since I knew this already) and two people declined. The others haven't bothered to answer. Keeping their options open, I guess. I have a feeling I'll have five people here, including me, if I'm lucky. The other two may be Stephanie's boyfriend and Scott.


This isn't the first time this has happened to me. I thought I had friends (more than mere "Hey, how you doing?" acquaintances) during my master's program, too. Or at least people interested in becoming my friends. When I started my master's program, I invited about 15-20 people from school and a few more--mostly Al's friends--to a party at my house. My sister invited some of her friends, too, and they drove two hours to get there. As far as I can recall, two of my fellow masters students came and four of Al's friends came. Total. Of the people I invited.


However, this pic, from that party, makes it look like I was having a little bit of a good time. Maybe it was the quarter keg that we got (and ended up having to finish throughout the next week, finally finishing during the big blackout). But I'm going to try to have fun and not be down tonight, even if it is just three of us. And I'll post a follow-up blog, possibly with pictures, to let you know if my worst fears came true. Or Al's fantasies. He's convinced himself that if I don't answer the phone later, it's because the three of us are busy having a pillow fight. Men.