Tag Archives: friends

You’re really picky about friends, or maybe you’re the jerk

At some point, this kid—who causes problems when playing with others—broke down, sat down and sorta whine-cried. His mom came by on her bike and advised him something like, what do you have to do if you want to play with others? Not whine, he blubbered—but if he learns how to get along—

Now I’m thinking of this situation in terms of what I said before about getting along with others. Nobody wants to hear the conflict-whining, and nobody really wants to hear my complains about how I don’t have friends here. As M & I came in from lying in the sun (M said Sat. night, I think ’twas, that she doesn’t feel she’s yet gotten enough sun before the coming winter), I talked about [neighbor boy] & the girl using the western corner of my triangle garden as a base to touch after hitting the ball—and I really don’t care. I mean, yard is yard, grass is grass, as long as plants aren’t damaged, I really don’t care (I joked with M about the ball going into my garden—after the dad, I think, had said they might go play in back yard, where there’s more room. I said, c’mon, George is across the street—he’s old, aim toward his house. Don’t make me the grumpy old man before my time). But, I said to M, all I’d like is a bit of friendliness from the [neighbor] family. All I want is a little chit-chat now and then—even pseudofriendliness I’d take, I said. But whether they’re shit shy (ha! I really didn’t mean to say “they’re shit,” but that came out) or just arrogant jerks, they don’t talk to me, even to say hi. I’ve talked to [the mom] the once—she’s never said anything else. [The dad] has said “hi” two times in, what, April to August, 4 months? … I’d just like a little reciprocity in terms of friendly chit-chat. I won’t try to philosophize to them, I promise! Ah, well. Enough about the neighbors—you’ve also got [other people] you’ll see [soon]—you don’t really enjoy spending time with them, either—either you’re really picky about friends, or maybe you’re the jerk. Could be, of course—

But maybe this difficulty enjoying time with others is why I enjoy so much my time spent alone, journaling.

[From journal of Mon. 31 July 2017, Journal 256, pages 188–90]