F. Scott Fitzgerald said,


"There are no second acts in American lives."


Most people think he was crazy.















Thursday, March 24, 2011

Sometimes the "Old Thirteen" Comes Back to Bite You in the A$$.

I think that if you have been a follower of "Kirb Appeal" (my other blog and video series) for awhile, you probably have a pretty good idea of what I'm like. (And, if not...why not? I'm FABULOUS!) And I probably come across as being smart and funny and confident. And most of the time, I am.

But every once in awhile someone says something that socks you in the gut and all the self-doubt and bad feelings are there again, just like they were in eighth grade.
The other day I was reading a blog that a younger, hipper woman writes (of which I am insanely jealous, mainly because there were no blogs when I was younger and hipper--oh, who am I fooling? I was never hip.) and of course it resonated, because we annoying girls are always annoying, irregardless of how old we are. And we tend to become solitary over time, because no one wants to hang around with the annoying girl.

Annoying girls keep their fingers crossed, hoping that ONE DAY someone will want to date them and marry them and maybe, if they're lucky, the boy will have a sister and she will feel compelled to be a friend to annoying girl, just because her brother will beat her up if she isn't.

I never had any trouble dating, mainly because guys don't find me annoying. Apparently there are different standards, like as long as a girl has two X chromosomes, she's datable. And I thought, as I grew older, I would make some friends. REAL friends, like the kind who will visit you in the hospital if you're dying. But that hasn't happened yet, and now I know why.

Yesterday, sitting at a restaurant having martinis with colleagues, I was told that I would never be invited to a girls' weekend at the beach because I am annoying. The term that was used was "high maintenance," but the translation was "annoying." And that I would never be included.

In a flash, as if by magic, I was fourteen years old again, targeted by "mean girls." And not one of the women at that table went to bat for me.

I have moved on from being annoying girl to annoying woman. Maybe I need to reconsider the title of my other blog.
Maybe I'm not so appealing after all.