Sometimes I don't want to be around people. Actually, a good bit of the time. It is therefore alarmingly clear that my life has the potential to become that of the every-woman who arrives solo to weddings, knows not what to give at a baby shower at age 50, and screens all of her calls, whether they come from blood relatives or blood-thirsty telemarketers.
At present I embody that special paradox of being both the socialite and the recluse. I love to entertain you with stories over wine and carefully-chosen cheeses, but please vacate the premises early enough so I can finish off said wine while folding my laundry and soaking in the silence. I energize by being around people, but the act of dinner or happy hour leaves me taxed - thanks for the great time and ample writing fodder and that wild story about karaoke-ing Baby Got Back at your work holiday party, but I really must go. If need be, I will even make up excuses to flee the scene of a social gathering. I forgot that I have a bag of donated blood in the car. Must get it to a fridge, STAT! or the ever-clever My parents' diabetic llama needs an insulin shot and I'm the only one he'll allow near him. See ya!
It is for this reason that I have no idea how couples are able to exist contently under the same roof. I fantasize about a living arrangement in Dynasty-like accommodations. I, Kris Carrington, live in one wing tending to my Westies and achieving the perfect feathered hairstyle, free to blog and watch crime shows and nap until once again it's time to tame my tresses. The beau resides in the East Wing, drinking unlimited Smithwicks and watching baseball, football, soccer and the luge on 14 widescreen TVs.
We meet up for all the beautiful relationship amenities: movies watched on the couch while intertwined like braided licorice, an impromptu make-out session while awake crafting a middle-of-the-night snack. Friends visit, but not too often and never unannounced. They call, but the phone only rings when I am in social mode. And no one, not even the cats, is allowed in my sacred den, where I write essays, read Jack the Ripper biographies, conquer the People crossword in record time, and make and devour pans of baked ziti (also in record time).
But I must be the exception to the rule, just as I feel I am on an infinite number of other issues. I don't want children, I hated Seinfeld, I fear carnival rides, and I despise Fritos. Now this? I plan on adding this oddity to my growing collection, right after happy hour and Dalai the llama's 9 am injection.
At present I embody that special paradox of being both the socialite and the recluse. I love to entertain you with stories over wine and carefully-chosen cheeses, but please vacate the premises early enough so I can finish off said wine while folding my laundry and soaking in the silence. I energize by being around people, but the act of dinner or happy hour leaves me taxed - thanks for the great time and ample writing fodder and that wild story about karaoke-ing Baby Got Back at your work holiday party, but I really must go. If need be, I will even make up excuses to flee the scene of a social gathering. I forgot that I have a bag of donated blood in the car. Must get it to a fridge, STAT! or the ever-clever My parents' diabetic llama needs an insulin shot and I'm the only one he'll allow near him. See ya!
It is for this reason that I have no idea how couples are able to exist contently under the same roof. I fantasize about a living arrangement in Dynasty-like accommodations. I, Kris Carrington, live in one wing tending to my Westies and achieving the perfect feathered hairstyle, free to blog and watch crime shows and nap until once again it's time to tame my tresses. The beau resides in the East Wing, drinking unlimited Smithwicks and watching baseball, football, soccer and the luge on 14 widescreen TVs.
We meet up for all the beautiful relationship amenities: movies watched on the couch while intertwined like braided licorice, an impromptu make-out session while awake crafting a middle-of-the-night snack. Friends visit, but not too often and never unannounced. They call, but the phone only rings when I am in social mode. And no one, not even the cats, is allowed in my sacred den, where I write essays, read Jack the Ripper biographies, conquer the People crossword in record time, and make and devour pans of baked ziti (also in record time).
But I must be the exception to the rule, just as I feel I am on an infinite number of other issues. I don't want children, I hated Seinfeld, I fear carnival rides, and I despise Fritos. Now this? I plan on adding this oddity to my growing collection, right after happy hour and Dalai the llama's 9 am injection.
40 Comments:
Hi all! I'm on a business trip this week in sunny CA, writing in the tech center at my hotel. I had to get this post out as it was bottling up on the plane . . . I can't wait to catch up on what is happening in the lives of my favorite bloggers when I return. Should I spend as much time checking out your sites here as I do at home, my bill would likely be higher than my rent . . . ;)
First off...have a great time in California! Sorry it's got to be a work thing.
Secondly, you are not alone. Sometimes people just plain bug the crap out of me. This feeling is greatly amplified if said people are what I like to call 'stoopid.' No, I seriously hate dumb people. I'm a bit of snob that way.
I've never used the bag of blood excuse, but I have used the new puppy at home excuse (and no, I don't have a new puppy at home) more than once.
I also don't really want children, fear carnival rides and despise (or maybe just strongly dislike) Fritos.
I did like Seinfeld though, so I guess the wedding is off. It wouldn't have worked anyway since I would have wanted the West Wing myself...it gets better light and is closer to the pool.
p.s. - I'm currently sitting in my little house doing breathing meditations to keep me from roaming the streets seeking to do violence to the next person who utters any of the following: Christian morals, faith based, people of faith, or Christlike... Don't ask, but it certainly fits with having short patience with people.
It would be such a beautiful thing to have your friends call only when you're in a social mood. I've lost my phone abilities over the years...the apex of it whilst living in Sydney. With f-ing expensive telephone bills looming, I chose to go the cell phone texting and the calling card/payphone once a week to the family route.
I constantly screen my phone calls and look at it as a favor to my friends, not sure if they would really like to talk to me when I'm not in the mood. :)
Just wanted to let you know that you are not alone..I find Sundays draining because that's when the calls flood in. Ack. Enjoyed your entry.
I also hated Seinfeld... and for some people, that's sacrilege.
My cell phone broke and I can no longer see who's calling. It's killing me.
I hate seinfeld too!
I never got the whole "it's about nothing" claim
I just came off of long weekend with friends. On the way home, one of them said "We were invited for dinner with friends tonight?"
I responded, "Why? I cant imagine having to make more conversation."
Oops. Crap.
Samuel Johnson said, "Marriage offers many pains, but celibacy has no pleasures."
Or something like that.
Big kudos from a fellow recluse/socialite. Brava on a great post!
I live in a world beyond "over" hanging out with people sometimes and have actually gotten to the point where I prefer going to movies and shopping alone. It's probably weird...but there you go. :)
I can only take so much of anyone lately. It gets worse with age. Your fantasy living arrangement would probably help the divorce rate immensely.
I, too, like to have my alone moments. My wife and I live under the same roof, and made sure that it was big enough to allow us to escape each other from time to time. Solitude is important.
PS: I hate Seinfeld, too.
i am, like you, a socialite and a recluse. i am so happy i found you! i don't feel like such an oddball now. i don't know how couples co-exist either but i am liking your idea very much.
p.s. i hate unannounced visitors.
I hear ya... Total socialite recluse here! It looks like there are a lot of us... Or maybe just drawn this site. I could relate to nearly everything. I am, however, trying the cohabitation thing, and found that having the DVR and two TVs helps, so I can hide out in the bedroom with my crime shows, and he can watch his football out on the wide screen.
I'm just thankful we're not in a shoebox studio in Manhattan! I don't know how couples do it!
If it weren't for Justn, I wouldn't talk to people in person for weeks on end. I totally agree with you, completely.
Except that I like Fritos.
Can I have a guest house? I will never visit unannoucened, pretty please?
I don't want children, I hated Seinfeld, I fear carnival rides, and I despise Fritos. I'm with you Kris! You freak me out! I NEED my alone time, more than I can say. I have been known to go for days without talking to anyone, and I often think that if I ever do get married, I'd like us to have three bedrooms. One for me to sleep in, one for him to sleep in, and one for sex.
I do like Fritos though, so on that matter we part.
I know what you mean. This weekend I had dinner with friends, friends I love but after a short while I was missing my couch like a love sick puppy. So much true crime to watch...and cat humping.
I actually know a man who tried to convince the woman he was dating to marry him and buy the house next door so they wouldn't have to cohabitate. He wanted to connect the two homes with a breezeway or some kind of tunnel. He's still single.
Is the Baby Got Back reference a jab at me? What? Can I help it that free booze makes me want to rap?
on another note - I finally made your blog.
on an extra note - your real life friends can tell when you're lying to get out of a happy hour.
I love the Dynasty set up -- I would settle for separate bathrooms, but the wing idea has really got me thinking!
When I took an abbreviated Myers-Briggs I came out 50% extrovert 50% introvert...they said to round up to extrovert...
It sounds like there are quite a few women who enjoy the party when there, but then need some alone time before dashing out the door again.
Glad you are in Cali! I have been reading your blog for a while and really enjoy your writing. Thanks for writing about things that some of us cannot.
Oh, Kris. I feel you and I may be meant to be. I may be forced to leave my new beau and take up with you...In a large, multi-winged home, of course.
I, too, am strikingly social yet an unabashed hermit at times. I hated Seinfeld, too. (I hate it even more when people quote it to me, and I say "Sorry, I didn't like that show," and they give me a look of utter disgust.) Carnival rides terrify me, and nothing ever sounds less appetizing than Fritos. I'm on the fence about the kids thing, but if I take up with you, that pretty much answers that question, doesn't it? Since we're both, you know, women.
Well if you're in L.A. Kris, it ain't sunny because we've had an actual friggin' thunder and lightening and constant rain storm since 11 p.m. last night.
Second, despite our Frito and carnival ride differences, I again submit that we are twin sisters of a different mother. I am the exact same way. I wish we could get Smithwicks in a bottle here (it's on tap some places) so my husband and I could live out your dream.
I hate talking on the phone, so most of the time when people call I don't answer.
Jealous of California!!!! Lucky!
Ohh! Can I have the south wing? I've always wanted the south wing!
1. I didn't want children until I had one.
2. Seinfeld sucked ass.
3. Carnival rides *should* be feared. They're portable, for God's sake.
4. Fritos are disgusting.
I think I might have the perfect living arrangement, if it weren't for the kids (who I LOVE and ADORE but they know that Mommy needs lots of alone time): my husbad works out-of-town four days per week. Every week. Our house is large, we don't spend every minute together even when he *is* home, and we have a California-king-sized bed and our own blankets.
And add me to the Socialite Recluse club.
Sunday nights and Monday nights are Cookie nights. Don't call me, and if you do, I won't answer (unless it's my sister). I'm curled up in my bedroom reading, or huddled in a bubble bath with the music turned WAY up. Even the best socialites need some alone time to rejuvenate.
Ok....something about licorice.....baked zit....14 TV's....and a llama.
Dude, we SO need to party!!!
It's all about balance Kris. Find the right combo of everything that works and you'll be happy.
Great post as always. Thanks for the laugh, unless that's not what you were going for, in which case i'll......hang on, let me flip through my rolodex of insults.......(whirrrrrrrr-CLICK!) Ok...let's see here "bite me!", ok that sounds good. I'll bite you then, not figuritively of course, I STILL don't know where you've been.
Mmmmmmm baked Ziti.
Sweet monkey dumpling, I'm not the only one! Of course, I think that every time I read your posts and the comments.
Except for Seinfeld -- loved it, love the reruns, quote it constantly, sorry. Don't have children, don't want them, don't particularly like any of 'em. HATE talking on the phone. And I've fantasized soooo many times about renting both halves of this duplex and shipping the Spousal Equivalent next door. I love him, but also love my alone time...
So it's just as I had hoped, there are other reclusalites out there! ;) Thanks all.
And Sanora, I am in Southern California - in Long Beach - and apparently, I brought this rain with me . . . I'm leaving tomorrow, though, so I'm quite sure it will clear up then!
This reminds me of a post Jackie @ 86 Tips has at the moment, just, hers is the couple version, yours the single version!
The British writer, Margaret Drabble, and her husband (also a writer) arrived at an interesting solution to their needs: they live in separate houses.
A man with a separate wing in the house is not far enough away....
separate area codes are necessary for a happy existance with the opposite sex...
Wow - this is just like me! Seriously, I'm a social butterfly and a recluse all at the same time. And I got to thinking about it the other day, and this whole "I need to be alone" thing really started to freak me out for the exact same reason you stated: how the hell am I going to get married?? Live under the same roof, in the same room, with someone else?! And kids?? Oh man...the future's not looking so bright all of a sudden!
Just more evidence that mansions will solve the world's problems.
I'm with you, Kris. I tend to swing from "Stay the hell away" to "intensely clingy" and back again with great rapidity, making me confusing as hell to live with.
I was with you all the way. I've even written about the same thing. But you lost me at "I hated Seinfeld."
Oh, K, you are not the exception to the rule...or else perhaps there are an awful lot of exceptions out there. I never liked Seinfeld much, I don't want kids, and I'm terrified of rides (especially those little "portable" ones at smaller fairs...the3 ones that look held together with gum...).
But without at least ONE Frito Pie during the cool Autumn evenings, I'd be ever so lost.
(but I HATE Frito breath, which is distinctive in it's "footiness")
This post reminds me of the Walgreen's "PERFECT" commercials. Y'know, that town called "PERFECT" that nobody lives in, but we all want to. And there aren't Walgreen's there, either! ;)
I think you'd be the Mayor of Perfect with the mansion you described! :)
i loved that. i need my space and alone time too--sometimes even when i'm at a party i realize that. i fear carnival rides as well!
Great post, I think we're on the same path sister! I can be the best of the best in the social scene or I can drop off the face of the planet at a moments mood swing! Unfortunately I think my poor blog suffers from this as well.
It's weird, I didn't used to be like this but in the past couple of years I have started going through anti-social patches where I won't even answer my phone for a week at a time because I just don't feel like dealing with the whole "catch up" game.
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