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post #3
bio: chris

first post
that week

Previous Posts
On Sting (and other crap)
Things I Say to My Dad, Because (like myself) He Thinks, Irrationally, He's Going to Die Soon
Why Hipstamatic Was Invented
Happy Mother's Day, Y'all
Black Pear Tree (Guest Post from John Darnielle)

Recently I was called "anti-social" by someone very close to me. I resented this statement. First of all, I don't consider myself "anti-social". Oftentimes, I'm the life of the party. When I'm on, I can dominate a room with my muppet-like charm and non-threatening demeanor.

Second of all, well, I'm just not anti-social, dammit!

But lately, I revert back to the 8th Grade, where I hide in the corner hoping no one will notice I'm there. This usually happens when I'm around people I know marginally - which describes most social situations that she's seen me in.

I just don't feel the need to dominate a room anymore. Those people that come into a room and command/demand attention just piss me off. I mean, can't we just enjoy our own space in our own time without someone coming in and stealing the spotlight?
I don't need to be that guy.
And now, to be called "anti-social" for it?!?

My favorite fraggle was always Boober Fraggle. Boober didn't need to worship the alpha-male, ultra-cool Gobo like Wembley did. He didn't need to fight for the other fraggles' attenion with ham-handed bravado like Red.

No. Boober held to his own -- writing Fraggle-poetry, doing laundry, and cooking a kick-ass gumbo.

When he did seek out companionship, he found it in the arms of Mokey. Mokey was tight with Red, but she never took part in or was taken in by Red's mind games. Mokey knitted her own blankets, stole her own radishes from the Gorgs' garden when she needed to, and followed her own curious instincts. When all the other fraggles ragged on Boober, Mokey saw something in him -- nurtured him, and nourished his little fraggle spirit.

I guess the point of all this is -- I'm still looking for my Mokey.

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