I have, for my whole life, observed, assessed, weighed, calculated, evaluated, and judged people around me. One of the benefits of being an introvert is that it’s easier to see, hear, and feel from a quiet corner of the room, rather than from the position of center of attention.
What I’ve learned so far about making friends is small, and likely parallels the wisdom of others, but you never know what people know…
Never judge a book by its cover, literally or figuratively.
But oh my gawwwd, please do follow your instincts.
The people who immediately ruffle my feathers are the kind of people who act like they’re my best friends within five minutes of meeting me.
Sometimes they’re the “close-talkers” and I’m never sure if they’re going to kiss me or hit me. Despite my affection for statistics, I don’t deal well with that kinda paradoxical probability. Also, I need my personal space, and maybe a space or two beyond, because I really hafta enjoy you in order to appreciate you being so near my body.
People who tell you too much, too soon, can be a relative concept, as I prefer bold and direct interaction, but within five minutes of meeting someone, I do not want to hear about the mold she’s made of her husband’s penis – just as a rule of thumb.
I don’t like most men. I know many good men, but I know many more good women. I’m sorry, I really don’t want to be that way, and we can talk about that another time.
I don’t like women who obviously want my man. I don’t mind a flirt, as I married a flagrant one, myself. I don’t like the women who won’t make eye contact with me, but stare up at The Mister dreamily. I don’t like women who tell me too often how good I’ve got it with regards to my husband, because all I really hear is envy and unhappiness.
Also, I don’t like women who are psycho-possessive with their men. Nothing screams insecurity like a woman who can’t leave a man alone for two seconds.
I don’t like Narcissists.
I don’t like women who say they have a hard time making friends because they’re too pretty. Bitch, please. One of my best girlfriends is a bona fide beauty queen and she’s got plenty of other friends.
Social climbers, name-droppers and status seekers force me into a strange condition wherein my eyes roll back into my head over and over and over? Contempt, maybe?
I don’t like negative people, particularly the soul-sucking social vampire types whose lives resemble black holes; former friends, relatives, pets — are missing? Oh woe, they’re all alone in the world. And there’s a good reason..
One-upping is to be despised, unless you’re actually in a contest. Being a non-competitive person, I seldom participate in contests, and I prefer always to be aware I’m involved in one. I do not have the wherewithal to vie for first place in “Who had the worst case of Sinusitis?”
Also, while we are all proud of our dazzling offspring, it’s poor form to try to one-up people with the achievements of your children. Yes, of course your children are destined for success. I’m sure you’re a supportive parent, nurturing their talents and abilities. I’m just a wee bit wary of adults rigging hockey games and bullying cheerleaders on the internet..
I’m far more impressed by five-year-olds with good manners and zipped flies, personally. Have you gotten an autistic child to wear new shoes and eat broccoli in the same day? Cause that would be a personal achievement, right there!
I don’t like racists, homophobic people, or bigots of any kind. I bought into that whole mutli-cultural educational thing in college, and I think I’ve grown set in my ways: The world really is a more beautiful place because of our differences, not in spite of them.
So you see, I’ve narrowed down the population quite a bit. Then I just be me, which eliminates another hefty chunk of people via my aloof behavior and my offensive nature. Generally, I’m left with those who possess strength of character, thereby increasing my enjoyment in life.
I am here to enjoy my life.