Monday, 28th January '08
There is a thing I hate about working and growing up, and that is that it comes with growing apart.
Don't get me wrong, the people at work at lovely. But if you asked if whether I'd rather make new friends at work 12 hours a day and only have maybe a couple of hours a week to chill with my nearest and dearest friends from those schoolgirl days, I'd tell you that meeting new great people doesn't have a thing on keeping old great people. They may be equally wonderful, but you can't miss new people you've never met. You can, on the other hand, begin to feel like you've abandoned important old people.
And with abandoning old people comes much guilt. I haven't read another person's blog in months, save for perhaps to see what new food Limin has discovered or what latest hilarious eavesdropped remark Han has overheard from somewhere or other. I haven't even met Smub as a whole for at least a fortnight. I specifically haven't seen Dage for at least a month, nor Ben or Bert since they returned from their exchange trips. I haven't collected my Krispy Kreme. I barely even have time to talk to the Bimz, even if three of them work in the same firm. I totally missed out on Jia's office move. The most important MBBS-taking doctors in the world, Gerri, ZH, Shaun, Flea, Amy, etc. etc. have disappeared so far out of my life in the last month that I think there's a better chance of finding Osama bin Laden alive than being able to catch any of them for coffee, or a movie, or Funkamania XIII.
Without assigning any blame whatsoever, I hate that the camaraderie of the old days has dissipated so quickly. I thought I'd never fear a day of loneliness after a performance, especially not one that has a ticket price of less than what most would have for a decent Friday-night dinner. Or even a totally FOC one. And yet nowadays I don't even dare to tell the ones I really want to be there that I have a show, because the first thing they'd think is: "Didn't we just go for your last one?" Not that I really mind if it's unaffordable or something, but when it's a free show, I totally realise there can really only be one reason that best friends won't turn up - they're just bored of me. They've suddenly got a lot less time for things they need to do, and they have less time for me. What little time they have left is not worth spending on my frivolities, and the worst part is that it's completely valid. I have less time for the world's frivolities, I can't expect anyone to have time for mine.
I kind of anticipated all this. Look at our parents, how often do they hang out with old friends? They don't throw birthday parties and expect everyone to attend.
What I didn't anticipate is how lonely it feels.
What makes it even more acutely painful is to keep trying and missing. So maybe I over-dramatise when I say it was REALLY quite heart-breaking to have to turn down meeting Babs and her friends at Butter on Saturday night. Nasi Lemak late-night dinner with the Dancers was utterly enjoyable, but I would have given anything for Kai and Babs to be there too.
The irony is even worse, that I'm not lonely in the classic sense of the word. There's always something to go for, friends who want drinks, who ask for information so they can watch my shows... it's awesome that they care.
I just want is to see the old ones in the audience again. But they may not come even if I paid for them.
[well, the pictures aren't going to take themselves!]