My! What an interesting looking atmosphere you have!
Sometime in late August my new boyfriend and I found ourselves dressed to the nines and looking out of the 36th floor of a local sky rise. We were surrounded by the Indianapolis elite, some vaguely familiar, others not so much, each with freshly done up fohawks, shiny shoes and popped collars. Through the loud music I shouted to my boyfriend "I think we fit in enough just for tonight". I don't think he heard me as he was in a "zone", liquid dancing with his eyes closed to my friend Edi's new trance mix. While he danced, I stood there alone by the white sofa and somewhere between noticing the flying colored strobes to my left and the candle lit table to my right, things around me seemed to fade into a clump of fog. I cant believe I almost forgot why I was content in that moment but not completely comfortable........
I was getting coffee early in the morning near the kitchenette area at work. Standing at the coffee machine was a early 30 something girl that worked in one of the other departments at our design company. Like the people in the sky rise, she was dressed to the nines (as ex cheerleaders sometimes are...I was as well but that is a digression). She held her head in a sort of way that shouted superior. She was always nice though, keeping things polite and professional at work yet when you talked to her you could tell how hard it was for her to not be in her "natural habitat". This was not in my natural habitat either but is anywhere really?
Normally I would think that someone at my age, at my point in life would not care that I was her social counterpart in that moment, dressed with my miss matching brown pants and worn mauve shoes. I looked quiet mousy and almost hesitated to say hi. Why does this sort of thing matter to me now?
For some reason I needed courage, but I managed it and said "good morning". We struck up brief artificial conversation about Halloween, she smirked at me uncomfortably and we went to our separate ways. What made me so uncomfortable to talk to her? Why was I so relieved that she didn't continue the small talk and why did I feel such a disconnect with this person?
I snapped out of my flashback and went to the bar to grab a drink. I got several compliments on my bright pink ruffled shirt, matching stilettos and flat ironed hair. In my half drunken stated I mingled with these people confortably as anyone whould who has dressed themselves to fit the atmosphere. The truth under my dressed up package is an artist who stopped painting, a dancer who stopped dancing and a conversationalist pasified by fear of what I say being a waste and uninteresting. This is what it all comes down to.
I suspect I stopped because I don't yet feel that I fit the parts of an artist, or a dancer or a conversationalist. I love doing them all and I'm not too bad at any of them by any means. I'm not even sure if there is a part to fit. Such a superficial way of thinking should - not - be - an issue. Having that be the only reason holding me back from so many things would be a sad story and I'm anything but a pessimist by nature. Just by atmosphere if that makes sense.
I was getting coffee early in the morning near the kitchenette area at work. Standing at the coffee machine was a early 30 something girl that worked in one of the other departments at our design company. Like the people in the sky rise, she was dressed to the nines (as ex cheerleaders sometimes are...I was as well but that is a digression). She held her head in a sort of way that shouted superior. She was always nice though, keeping things polite and professional at work yet when you talked to her you could tell how hard it was for her to not be in her "natural habitat". This was not in my natural habitat either but is anywhere really?
Normally I would think that someone at my age, at my point in life would not care that I was her social counterpart in that moment, dressed with my miss matching brown pants and worn mauve shoes. I looked quiet mousy and almost hesitated to say hi. Why does this sort of thing matter to me now?
For some reason I needed courage, but I managed it and said "good morning". We struck up brief artificial conversation about Halloween, she smirked at me uncomfortably and we went to our separate ways. What made me so uncomfortable to talk to her? Why was I so relieved that she didn't continue the small talk and why did I feel such a disconnect with this person?
I snapped out of my flashback and went to the bar to grab a drink. I got several compliments on my bright pink ruffled shirt, matching stilettos and flat ironed hair. In my half drunken stated I mingled with these people confortably as anyone whould who has dressed themselves to fit the atmosphere. The truth under my dressed up package is an artist who stopped painting, a dancer who stopped dancing and a conversationalist pasified by fear of what I say being a waste and uninteresting. This is what it all comes down to.
I suspect I stopped because I don't yet feel that I fit the parts of an artist, or a dancer or a conversationalist. I love doing them all and I'm not too bad at any of them by any means. I'm not even sure if there is a part to fit. Such a superficial way of thinking should - not - be - an issue. Having that be the only reason holding me back from so many things would be a sad story and I'm anything but a pessimist by nature. Just by atmosphere if that makes sense.