As I had alluded to, the conflict I faced with my friend caused me to do a lot of soul searching. In the middle of all the confusion and mayhem, I also was stressed out about a couple of parties I wanted to plan for my birthday--I ultimately wanted to have a fantastic birthday eleganza extravagza weekend.
Let me take you back a good month before my life succumbed to such confusion--when the biggest worry I had wasn't about discerning where I stand in both my friendships with Bill and my opinionated best friend, instead it was over finding a venue to celebrate my 24th birthday with my friends and family. In downtown Chattanooga I knew I found the perfect spot. It was off of Market Street, near all the night life at which I wanted to pour myself into, or at the very least, have a ice cold, fruity, sweet beverage poured for me.
After finding my venue, the next battle I had to conquer was finding the perfect dress. Because I was venturing into my mid-twenties, I knew I had to make an appearance in something that not only celebrated my age, personality, and heighten self-esteem, but something that also honored my successes, such as obtaining my undergraduate degree, losing weight, and starting a new phase in my life--obtaining my master's. Who knew that an outfit could do so much? Simply put, I wanted to wear an outfit that made me feel like me. Although I was apprehensive about the future because of the changes I was facing, I felt like I was on top of the world--like everything was coming together.
Once the idea and excitement of the party and shopping became overtly tangible, I typed out my invitations and sent them via Facebook. I knew that I would have no issues getting the support and attendance I needed. As the summer days of August seem to melt away, I even sent out friendly reminders the week of the party. I wanted to confirm the number of guests that would be in attendance. Again, everything seemed to come together--at least that was until the night of my first get together the day before my dinner. The turn out was pitiful.
I was in shock.
Did I miss something? Did the Facebook gods confirm guests that actually meant to decline? I was perplexed, and I felt myself panicking soon after my ladies night.
Because of the turn out of my first event, some strange voice in the back of mind repeatedly convinced me that I should cancel my dinner and just do something independently,yet I still decided to go through with the risk of making myself look like a fool.
The next night when quite uneventfully. I was truly surprised to see the people that were there. A few of them were friends that I hadn't spoken to in a while, and some of the guests were friends of friends. Overall, I was thankful that regardless of the lack of communication I shared with the people at my party, they decided to celebrate with me that night. Again, there continued to be a number of people that said they would be at the dinner that didn't show up. The ones that I thought meant something to me, to my life, were M.I.A.
Although my birthday weekend had not gone nearly as well as I had hoped, it wasn't nearly as bad as last year, which I had blocked out of my mind. An almost similar situation happened and I honestly had completely forgotten about it. The only reason my 23rd birthday crept back into my thoughts was because my best friend Biggs had drawn comparisons between the two. Just as a brief overview, last year was a lot more simpler. I had asked some of my friends to come out to dinner with me. It ended up being only me, my best friend Smith, Shannon and Shannon's boyfriend. Again, where did people go? Where were my supposed friends?
I had a conflict with technology... Or shall I say, I had a conflict with the people that clearly didn't use technology to inform me of their presence.
There are so many outlets of communication, and I'm truly at a loss at why people chose not to utilize them. Why even have cell phones, texting, Facebook, e-mail, etc? Better yet, what happened to the age old phone call? What ever happened to people just calling you up, and not using such forms of communication as a cop out? Is it laziness, fear, or cowardice? I suppose though that beggars can't be choosers. I suppose an excuse is better than no excuse; however, at what point have people forgotten to consider your feelings, or take a moment just step in your shoes even though they are metallic gold, 4-inch heels?
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