are friendships suppose to be hard work? perhaps that is why i hang around families so much and i shy away from others. there must be other people out there who are not blood related that i can just shoot off my mouth without first weighing the consequences, deliberating the effects or trying so hard to sound witty and sweet, because the one thing i've found out about myself and that is i am not sweet. i am not the 'ohhhh, how are the families? we have missed you. you look gorgeous in that dress. where did you buy it? how is the little one?' type. i am also not the 'your little one looks so absolutely precious! so adorable' kind either, nor the 'how poor of you, you must be so sad. don't worry, you are a wonderful person, bla bla bla'. yawn.

any calls for cynic of the year and i will definitely be the first to line up, so you can bet i won't be saying sweet goo-gahs to your little kids and calling them little cuties of the year. i snarl, and i bite, but usually i can't, so i just keep quiet and paste a fake smile on. oh ok, so i do the occasional goo-gahs and 'you look wonderful in that', and it's always sincere, but my lack-of-practice 'sincere look' makes it seem otherwise. the snarl trying to escape from my repressed inner subconsciousness doesn't help either. if anything, i look unapproachable. i'll let you in on a secret, that is a survival technique.

we stood around after the first few minutes of greeting, hiding in some corner, carefully blended into the background. the initial euphoria of hello's, hi's and congratulation's have lapsed and we are waiting until we can hide our ackwardness behind the safety of a table. the socialites are working their way round the room, chatting with one group for half a minute then on to the next. tick tock tick tock, another 20 seconds to go, 10, 5.........*hits timer* tooooooot, sorry, i've got to move on to the next group of people. amusing to watch. we see many familiar faces but we keep our distance. whatever do you say after the first inspiration of witty conversation-starter? you stand around ackwardly looking at your feet, at the distant crowd, at the group of people beside you and you send out silent pleas of rescue with your doe eyes. i guess we are not 'people' people. especially not when i have an inch of make-up on, two caterpillar-related fake eyelashes ladden on my eyelids like a ton of dumb-bells and a kilogram of black pins stuck into my scalp like a voodoo doll. give me my shorts, my tee shirt and my loose swinging hair and perhaps i can act like a normal person once again. and perhaps i can actually smile sincerely too.