The colors of social interaction

I'm wearing a pink shirt today (yup, that very one over there --->).  I know, I know - this doesn't seem profound or even very interesting, and you may very well be right, but bare with me and give me a moment to explain.  This is actually a fairly big moment for me!  You see, I don't wear pink ... no, that's not entirely correct - I don't wear colors, period!  To give a little perspective on the matter, a perusal of my closet, dresser and laundry basket turns up: 

- 26 white, off-white and mostly white shirts, tank-tops, sweaters and jackets

- 9 brown or khaki pants, skirts and dresses

- 22 black or grey shirts, tank-tops, sweaters and jackets

- 7 black or grey pants, skirts and dresses

- A smattering of maroon and a pinch of green thrown in to prove I can at least see colors!

As you can see, I'm not one to deviate from the tried and true fashion rule that you can't go wrong with black, white and brown or variations of those non-colors.  Colors draw too much attention, require too much interaction with those around you and generally say to the world, "why yes, complete stranger, I am in fact open to your advances of social friendliness, I will have something witty to reply with and we'll both leave the interaction feeling happy and refreshed!"  This is generally not the impression I want to leave with people, not because I'm not friendly or don't want to talk to the random, caffeine-starved (or overdosed, depending on the time of day) people I'm standing in line with, but because those very people will leave with their hopes of casual conversation dashed upon the rocks that is my social awkwardness.  

I generally make one of two mistakes when strangers try to talk to me. Probably the most common problem is that I end up having a conversation with myself while trying to figure out how to retort their brilliant opening line, "hi!"  If  you live in my head - which, thank your lucky stars you don't! - the exchange sounds something like this:

Stranger, attempt 1: "Hi."

Self 1, to self 2, "say hi!"

Self 2, "She just said hi, I can't say exactly the same thing!"

Self 1, "Say 'hello' then."

Self 2, "Doesn't 'hello' sound entirely too formal?  I might as well ask if she's 

         seen the queen lately."

Self 1, "... ... ... What?!"

Self 2, "You know, formal - queen, you have to be really formal to meet the queen."

Self 1, "How do you know that?  Have you met a queen lately?"

Self 2, "No, of course I haven't meet a queen, but you can just imagine how formal 

        it would be to meet one!  I think there are a bunch of rules you have to 

        follow, mostly about being really formal ..."

Self 1, "Oh, you're right, remember when Michelle Obama met the queen and broke some 

        sort of touching rule - the press wasn't happy about that. I guess ..."

Stranger, attempt 2, "It's a really long line for coffee this time of day, isn't it?"

Self 2, "Yeah, it really is!"

Self 1, "Don't say it to me, say it to her!"

Self 2, "But it's so obvious!  I need something witty and interesting to say!"

Self 1, "No you don't! Just say something! Tell her you like her shirt."

Self 2, "What?!  No, that's creepy - she didn't ask me about clothes, she asked 

         about the coffee line - I can't just change to subject to something so 

         personal!"

Self 1, "It's a shirt - she's wearing it in public, it's not that personal."

Self 2, "Yeah, but ..."

Self 1, "SAY SOMETHING, DAMNIT!"

Self, to the stranger, "Um ... yeah, it's pretty ..."

Barista, "Hey, you, with the kitty-kat cup holder, it's your turn to order!"

Of course, if you're the stranger - or anyone else caring to listen - it sounds, and looks, like:

Stranger, attempt 1, "Hi."

Crazy woman with the white shirt, black pants and kitty-kat cup holder turns around, as if to respond, but instead stares with brow slightly furrowed ...

Silence ...

Silence ...

Silence ...

Stranger, attempt 2, "It's a really long line for coffee this time of day, isn't it?"

Silence ...

Silence ...

Eyes move down to shirt ... silence ...

Silence ...

"Um ... yeah, it's pretty ..."

Barista, "Hey, you, with the kitty-kat cup holder, it's your turn to order!"

This exchange is probably more preferable - to everyone involved - than the seldom-used alternative of voicing the confusion in my head, which goes something like:

"Hi."

"Michelle Obama is the queen of the United States, and I think she has a shirt exactly like that one! ... Look! Kitty-kats! (maniacal grin, pointing to my cup holder)."

The problem is that spontaneous interaction is just that - spontaneous - it lacks any sort of relational definitions or boundaries.  If you'd see me at work or school, you'd never guess I can't hold coherent chit-chat with those around me - I can schmooze, connect, network and function normally with the best of 'em!  But the game is different - the rules are outlined and my role is specific!  I can do specific roles!  I can be work me, and you can be work you and there are rules for that dialog and relationship!

This is something I'm working on, however; hence, the pink shirt!  It's the brightest, most come-and-talk-to-me thing I own!  I'm making progress! I'm willing to try! I'm totally not planning to leave the house today!  

The beginning

I'm unemployed.  I left my job - on good terms - about 2 months ago.  "This will be great!" I told myself, "I can write, do art, get outside and enjoy the sunshine ..." all I can manage to do, however, is worry about my future, fuss about being bored and wonder where in the hell is the manual for being a married, mid-twenties something, cat-owning, unemployed shmoe with 7 years of college under her belt?!  How is it possible that I'm in the same position I was fresh from college graduation?  Hell, I'm practically in the same place I was after high school graduation, expect that I've acquired a new cat, a husband and debt - not necessarily in that order.  

It's not that I don't have goals and dreams, or even that I don't have ambition and drive to achieve them; the problem is I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing!  I know, I know - do what you love, what you want, what makes you happy, what makes you money, whatever gets you out of the damn house and away from your cats!  Cliques like, "Your options are endless" and "You can be anything you put your mind to" might sound - as intended - inspirational and satisfying when your parents are still paying the bills, but when you're supposed to be making real-life decisions, deciding what "path" to be on, all those "options" and "anythings" become terrifying creepies that haunt your insomniatic mind until the wee hours of the morning: Grad school? Fellowship?  Job search?  Travel?  Kids?  

To give some context to the terror that is making-life-decisions, here is a typical conversation with myself: 

"Okay, self, I've decided!  I'm going to grad school!"

"Congratulations, self! Way to be assertive and make a decision!  So, which program will it be: Women's Studies? Public Policy? Conflict Resolution? Teaching?"

"Oh, umm, I hadn't really ... I'm still working that out."

"Of course, of course, no need to hurry. Where you gonna go? Are you going to find the best program that will take you?  Find a professor you want to study with?  Stay close to home and family?  How long do you want to go?  Get a masters or just get it all done and once and get your doctorate? What if you hate the program? Your professors? Your cohort? What if you can't find a job after you graduate?" 

"Okay, okay, self, sheesh .... Well, I have been in school for 7 years already, maybe what I really need is to spend some more time working.  Now I've really made my decision!  I'm going to look for a job!"

"Oh, that's fantastic, self!  That decision should make life much less complicated! So, are you going apply for jobs in this city? State? Region? Are you willing to leave your partner (catless, because they are SO coming with you) while he finishes his degree and you take a job in New York?  Do you take the entry level job or hold out of the one you're really interested in and almost qualified for? Is it possible to have a garden in a New York City apartment, and do you really want to spend 50% of your income to rent a 300 sf studio with neighbors who cook with stinky-cheese at 3 AM?"

"Whoa, self!  I thought you said this decision would make life less complicated!"

"It will be less complicated after you answer these simple, little questions! Remember, you can do anything you set your mind to!"

"Nope, too many questions, too many complications - skip school, skip work, go traditional and have kids!"

"Who in the hell approved you for motherhood?!"

Trust me, no one could sleep with this babble going on in their head every night for months!  

And that brings me here, pouring out my deepest frustrations and fears to you - the nameless ... um ... several ... and my mom - undecided and paralyzed by options.  Aren't you glad you came?!