Presidential Mansion

Last night was my dinner at the University's Presidential Mansion.

A friend of D's, and member of his lab, finished defending his PhD and their boss, the Vivacious researcher and wife of the president of the university (who also is a pediatric cardiologist) decided to throw a little celebration dinner at the mansion. We were invited.

I had promised D. about a month ago that I would begin working on my social anxiety. It was effecting him, obviously, going to lab, school, and social functions alone; feeling as if he must always make excuses for me. Although I was fine with him just saying, "Look, people just really freak my boyfriend out." Okay, maybe it's best if just have a cold.

Just to dissect for a moment...

It's really not that people freak me out. For the most part they just annoy me a bit. I think I'm a bit hyper-sensitive and hyper-critical in social situations. I can't stand it when people are being fake, or pretending to be quite interested in what people are saying, when in fact they are just waiting for a quiet moments so they can reward the audience with their view on things.

And then there are the obvious issues I have with myself. As much as I don't want this to be true, I feel as if a job defines who I am. Now, I know it doesn't matter what I do to make money, and I know a good job doesn't validate me as a human being. But I truly feel people do judge you based on your job. And you could argue the people who would judge you for such trivial things aren't worthy of being your friends. But, then I'm not talking friendship...I'm just trying to get through an evening of conversation.

Moving on...

My approach yesterday was to not think about the dinner. If I didn't think about it at all, I wouldn't be able to create horrible social scenarios throughout the day in my head, thus elevating my growing anxiety. Yes, this is a day in my brain...fun, huh?

In the morning first thing D. says, "Honey, the big dinner is tonight. At the "Mansion.""

"I don't want to talk about it."

"But, it's gonna be at the "Mansion."" He's obviously excited about the affair. As he should be. I'm not so caught up in my cynicism that I don't want other people to enjoy life. I'm not that far gone.

"Sweety, just don't talk about it."

The dinner was at 7:00. I started drinking at 5:00. Drinking to "loosen" up isn't something I normally do, but I've been watching a little of "Soap Opera" network lately, and people always do that on those shows. I figured if it was good enough for Alexis Morrell Carrington Colby Dexter Rowan, it was good enough for me.

The dinner wasn't so bad. In the beginning there was some forced mingling where D. introduced me, and everyone was so glad to finally meet me, and they've heard a lot about me, and I was glad to meet finally meet them. We drank very good wine, and the hostess walked around chatting with everyone very very wide eyed in her Asian inspired silk floral blouse and fashionable sleek black slacks. She really is a vivacious woman. When she speaks to you it's almost as if she really does care about what you are saying, except for the fact her wide eyes slightly glaze over.

The President enters the room in a tuxedo. A tuxedo. I've met him on a few occasions, and he was my heart doctor for awhile. He still asks me to get my cholesterol checked. He's a very accomplished man. I think that's the best way to put it. He has a presence about him, which is a bit off-putting. He tends to be instantly commanding...and to me that's annoying. He was only passing through to meet the guests, as he was conducting the symphony that night, but he would be back in time for dessert. Was I really having this moment? Why did I feel so out of place...why should that not be my place? Why must there even be a place? Okay...I'm getting off point here.

After dinner, which was a wide array of vegetarian dishes and a couple meat options for the carnivores. It was very rich. Of course. We ate off of fine china and all of the silverware really was. The wine was delicious and the table talk was light-hearted and I was almost starting to get comfortable with the idea I was sitting in the grand dining room of the presidential mansion with a room full of Doctors, and Double Doctors. Okay, I said "double doctors," not quite there yet....

So I was saying...after dinner, we adjourned to the west glass porch not to be confused with the porches on each of the other compass points. There was cake, coffee, rice pudding, champagne, and a gifts given to the graduate. It was pleasant despite the close quarters. But then D. got caught up in conversation with some undergraduate anatomy groupies. They were in one of his Gross Anatomy classes and they just found him amazing. We had something in common.

I found myself in a conversation with one of the fiancee's of a lab associate of D'. I found her to be quite fake during dinner. Very wide eyed, and always smiling and seeming interested in everything people were saying. She acted as if it didn't bother her that her fiancee was bragging he could go out and drink till he passed out, and she would always come pick him up. She mentioned sometimes he didn't come home at all, "But that's fine...he's just being one of the boys. It doesn't bother me." I knew it did...and it were little moments like that which would lead to her breakdown one day.

So we were talking...at least she was. And then she asked me the question I had been dreading all night. "So, what is it you do, Jason?"

Instantly I felt my blood pressure go up and my face, no doubt, was turning red. My ears were hot. Why does this question effect me so much? Why do I let it?

"I was working at the plasma center for 6 years. I was the assistant manager (title dropping...ugh I do one of the things which annoys me when other people do it. why?) then I quit. Now, I'm trying to get on at Mercy Hospital in the lab, doing phlebotomy." Life story...come on.

"Ohhhhhh phlebetomy. That has to be so rewarding, you know. I bet you feel so good when you hit the vein."

She said that. Now, I know I tend to read into what people say...because I think a lot of times we speak in code, but that seemed condescending to me. I began to shrink and everyone around me began to grown. I felt less than...not good enough. I felt as if I was bringing D. down in some way by not having a title or great job. I hate that I feel this way.

I had to have a cigarette. It felt like a great way to escape. Actually, I thought we would be leaving soon, because I told D I would go to dinner, but that I didn't want to stay late. He said he understood, and we would leave shortly after dinner. At this point he had just asked for another martini, so I knew we wouldn't be leaving anytime soon.

I asked D for his car keys so I could go out and have a cigarette. It was nice to be outside. The cold air made me feel alive again, and I briefly put things into perspective.

A couple was coming out from the party and they saw me and said, "Better keep D. under control...ha ha ha."

"yeah...I'll do that."

Odd.

I had two cigarettes and then decided to go back inside. I tried to get in, but the door was now locked. I could see everyone in the back of the house. The president was back, in his tuxedo, and everyone had circled around him, laughing at something apparently witty he was saying. I knocked on the door, but no one came. I just stood there, in the cold, watching them laugh. Realizing no one really knew I wasn't there, and it just seemed fitting I was locked out. So, I put D.'s car keys on his front seat and I walked home.






More on this tomorrow...if I keep going this post will be huge.