Monday, January 4, 2010

I dentity; you dentity; he, she, or it dentities…*

Greetings, fair readers. I hope that you have all had a fabulous start to the new year. I sure have; thanks for asking. I’m a bit sad I’ve not been home ALL YEAR but happy that it’s because I’ve been doing more entertaining things instead. My post is brought to you by the sum of these entertainments, which have left me dizzy, disoriented, and exhausted—not as a result of drinking, I assure you…

I don’t know about y’all (well, I do know about some of you) but I have a bunch of different groups of friends, because I am soooo popular. All modesty aside, I do know people from a variety of contexts, and found myself belonging to several different groups this weekend. They included one gathering of high school friends and several different sets of college ones. Most of the college friends nominally know each other, at least. But they don’t hang out together (unless I make 'em).

So I merrily roamed from one group to the next, drinking frighteningly strong martinis one moment and watching South Park the next, only to find myself arguing the merits of “your mom” jokes or frantically trying to make someone guess Chuck Yeager’s name the following day. In each group, I had fun and I was welcomed. But I never felt it was truly my group of friends, my resting place. Historically, I have waffled about this sort of thing. I remember getting to college and being all grumbly because it seemed like everyone else had a place to hang their hat and I was flitting, an anti-social butterfly, from one gathering to the next. Then, every so often, I’d get a group of friends who would expect me to do things with them all the time…until I got fed up with that and started itching to flit again. I guess I’ve struck a balance right now—I have a few friends I see all the time, and a bunch of others I meet every couple of weeks, or whenever they’re in town. But this weekend I swapped constantly from one group to the next, which brings me to my point.

Oh, really? You had a point?

Why, indeed I did. Namely: the reason I'm so dizzied and disoriented is that I feel like I become a different person depending on which group I’m with. I used to think I acted the same no matter the context (this could mean making a bad pun in an interview, or talking to a very small child like they understood the word “hegemony”; it could also include acting comfortably like myself with strangers). But I’m forced to conclude this is Not The Case. (One of my old professors has some interesting things to say about this; but I don’t have the space to get into it here.) This weekend I was six different people, and it was fun. But I’m a bit tired now, back at the office. I feel like I should put on some sort of workaday me, but I’m not sure which one she is anymore. I suppose this is probably normal. Then again, I'm probably a weirdo.

Any ideas?

*Oh man, check it out...


  1. idont care
    iwaswalking along and i justdontcare

  2. "talking to a very small child like they understood the word 'hegemony'"

    Man, I know exactly what you mean: my classmates don't understand "hegemony" (or in some cases don't want to understand), and they're in *grad school*!

    Life is hard.

  3. Seriously. Where will I ever find my place in this hegemoniless world?

    (Earlier today I thought I'd invented the word "crocodilian" but I had not. I do appear to have invented the word hegemoniless, though.)