Hurry up and wait. Story of my fucking life.
Had four phone calls from the casting director yesterday, asking me if I was free on Friday to meet with the director, was I a vegetarian, could I contact my acting partner from the play about his availability dates, and could I ask said partner if he could make the meet ‘n’ greet on Friday. After such a flurry of rings, questions, and answers, I expected to see the script (promised to come my way) in my inbox by the time I returned from language class. Nope. Still nothing this morning, too. But perhaps there’s been an emergency meet of the team. My acting partner can fill the role, but only if we do the filming after he returns from holiday. That would put filming in Den Hague either over Xmas or between Xmas and New Years.
I could do those dates, and I will if that’s what happens. But my writing…that was my block of time to finish off the thrillers. It would mean an entire week of not writing.
Language class was interesting. Teacher One, Ms. HardAss, was cool to me as I tried to explain the film possibility. Even cooler when I told her about the story I was writing. Her reply? That wasn’t the homework assignment. Teacher Two, let’s call her Ms. Nice, was pleased as anything that I’d written so much. Didn’t matter that it wasn’t the homework assignment; just write is her motto.
…And am I the only adult on this planet that woohoo’s when I get a difficult question correct? Seems I am. Irregular verb conjugation, verbal drill. Got a whopper, dredged up those far corners of my brain and found the correct form. So yes, I whooped and punched the air. I need that to reinforce that my memory is correct, I’ve made the right connection, keep that one. Everyone laughed. Everyone also laughed when Ms. HardAss told me to stop looking up at the ceiling; I should look at her when I answer. I, of course, look up at the ceiling because it’s that automatic body reaction when I search my memory. Um…what’s that again? It’s a well documented physical reaction. I do it because this is difficult for me, because it’s not second nature. And I need to have those answers come without thought. Rapid fire responses. I’m just not there yet. But I am working my ass off, and honestly, I don’t appreciate all the laughter thrown at me. I’m not terribly angry about it – I understand why they laughed, and I get the joke. But…don’t they see I do that because I’m working so hard? Great for them that they’ve all had better lessons than me. Great for them that they all have Dutch spouses or friends to talk to. I don’t have any of that. I went from A, B, C, to this class in one jump, and the very fact that I’m able to keep up with them is impressive.
Then there was coffee break time… Everybody goes downstairs where there’s a little cafe run by the group. Have a cup of coffee, chat. I don’t know what happened. The group broke up into smaller bits. I avoided one woman entirely because she was very ill. Two women wouldn’t include me in their conversation, tho I stood close and tried to catch their eyes. Another group sat around a very small table, full up, in some tight talk I obviously wasn’t a part of. I had no one to talk to, nothing to do.
I find this type of thing happens a lot to me. Guess people just don’t like me. I don’t try to be a social pariah. What I don’t understand is what happened between last week and this week. I thought things were cool, thought I’d found a couple of people to chat with. But they peeled off into a private group and from my point of view their body language said very clearly ‘stay away; you’re not welcome’. I’m left just scratching my head, not knowing what I’ve done or said that’s made this occur. And maybe it has nothing to do with me. I’ll allow for that. I’ll allow for the idea that they had specific things to discuss, maybe even in their native language. But…
Why do I keep seeing the same scenario played out before my eyes? The only common factor is me, so I’ve got to come to the conclusion that I’m doing something that’s making this happen.
No one will tell me what it is.
And then people wonder why I don’t like myself. How can I? It’s obvious to me no one else does. I try to get out there, to remember to be pleasant and ask other people questions. Show an interest in them. I try to stay off hot topics, particularly in Dutch class because I just don’t have the skills to say what I want. And still, I find myself alone during these social breaks, with walls six feet deep surrounding all the little clutches of conversation. No idea how to break through. No idea what I’m doing so wrong.
In future, I’ll bring the book I’m supposed to be reading. Get twenty minutes in on that. It’s not that I want to. I just don’t want to feel the way I did yesterday, shuffling around from one group to another hoping they’d include me, waiting, waiting, waiting, smiling, waiting, feeling discouraged and shuffling on.
And there will come a day I’ll be accused of being stand-offish. Cold. Hard to talk to, hard to approach. Closed off. Unwilling to communicate. (Geez, I could go on here…guess I’ve heard most of these before.)
Tell me, am I supposed to continuously offer myself up as a sacrificial lamb each and every day? And how the fuck do I change this?
Then there’s my eldest brother, my head won’t shut up (in English or in Dutch)…I’d fucking like to cry this all out, but I can’t. The tears won’t come. No time for them.
Gonna have to drop some balls. And I don’t like to do that.
I am perturbed.