Making Friends

Unemployment. Customer service woes. Desperate nanny-hunting. Business problems. Broken PlayStations. Computer Issues. Long distance relationships. Bad hair day. Infidelity. Earthquake in China!

The subjects above are just some of the things people started ranting about yesterday.

So, the onset of the ever-despicable Mercury retrograde took a toll on almost everybody I know. Twitter and Facebook bore witnesses to that. The good news is, misery, indeed, loves company and we are comforted by the fact that we are not going through this sucky phase alone. The bad news is, we have until +/- May 2^nd to endure it.

This morning, I tweeted (wow, apparently, “tweeted” is now a word…no red underline!) that I am brewing up today’s blog entry. The problem is, I have an influx of ideas that I don’t know which one to focus my mind on. Ah! Dilemma really is the aphrodisiac of a writer. When you’re feeling all sulky, you have a million and one things to write about.

At this point, I am going for this subject that has been “calling out” to me.

I remember this conversation I had with Pinocchio months ago about being foreigners in this small Californian city and how, for some reason, it is quite challenging to make real friends. I totally admire the American’s mind-your-own-business attitude, but I guess, like every gift is a curse, this kind of attitude hurts them when it comes to building personal relationships. I remember telling Pinocchio that, that is why, more often than not, it all comes down to us, immigrants, ending up hanging out in this foreign land.

I understand why people lie in their resumes, but I don’t get it when, at the stage of making new friends and getting to know each other, people lie about themselves. Ergo, the name Pinocchio for this “friend” because I can see through him when he tells cool “facts” about himself. I swear, I literally stare at his nose, waiting for it to grow longer…and I seriously think it does.

When in a new environment, I tend to listen more than talk. This is often misconstrued as being an introvert. Those who know me back home know better. Where I’m from, you can dump me at a party full of strangers and I’d end up talking to people hereandthere. Of course, here, it’s different. There are cultural differences to consider. What might be humorous for one might be offensive for the other. According to @omgfacts, “French kiss” in Austria means fellatio. See, that’s why we have to be very, very, very careful.

Anyway, so I listen. I try to learn more about the people around me – a little of their backgrounds, a little of their personalities, a little of their sense of humor. A little. And somehow, at the stage of getting to know people, that’s enough for you to work on. That’s enough for you to sort out the ones that are [potentially] real and the ones that are just plain fake.

I don’t know about where these immigrants are from, but where I grew up, it is rude to speak in a dialect/language (in the Philippines, there are several provinces with several dialects very distinct from one another) when you are with the company of people, even just one person, who do not understand it. I grew up thinking this was common knowledge. Was I wrong?

At first, I kidded with short responses in the language that these people were speaking. When it got old, I said I was “lost in translation”. If I had a dime for every time I did get lost in translation, I’d be filthy rich by now. After a while, I gave up calling their attention and wondered, could this be intentional?

The thing about being “alone” is that you tend to observe. Well, at least you should. Otherwise you’re just wasting time doing nothing. I noticed then that there were just two specific people who insisted on conversing in this language. Girls. Ah. The classic scenario. Vicious girls. Anastasia and Drizella (Drucella, according to some sources…please clarify). The stepsisters syndrome. I think there is always a biological need for girls to compete with other girls. To me, that’s just old. Juvenile old. No, infantile old!

photo credit: www.fanpop.com

At this little gathering, Anastasia and Drizella talked trash about every visitor that left, just as soon as they closed the door behind them. I was like, “Wow! Weren’t you just chatting and laughing with them?” There was one guest that tripped on the cables of this gaming console as she was making her way to the door. Everyone went over to help her up. Anastasia and Drizella included. As soon as she was gone, Drizella started singing, blame it on the a-a-a-a-alcohol!!! I just shook my head.

I knew then that I wasn’t going to be an exception. I knew then that I was going to be a subject of scrutiny, mockery, ridicule and jokes sooner than later. I didn’t want to deprive them. I politely said goodbye, left and had them enjoy their feast.