I received an invitation but I haven't RSVP'd yet. I'm not sure I'm ready to make the decision to accept or decline. I actually feel surprised that I would be invited to such an event. Was I invited because of who I am, or because the host needed an extra body?
The invitation was feather-light, with the subtlest shade of off-white to reflect the delicacy of the contents. Only a select few were invited. She opened the envelope and spread out the paper as if she were opening a butterfly's gossamer wings. She read the contents, paused, then crumpled the damn thing up and tossed it in the trash. RSVP declined.
An invitation to dance is about the scariest thing I can imagine. Something so intimate in such a public space shouldn't be entered into lightly. In junior high I had a boyfriend, but it was one of those early relationships where I didn't actually talk to him, even though we were "going out." At jr. high dances I used to sit on the bleachers and watch everyone else dance. I actually preferred it that way, to be at the event but not really in it. Besides, who wants to dance to Bon Jovi? Barf.
One time my friends tried to get me to dance with my boyfriend. They grabbed my arm and tugged me while some Aerosmith song thudded around us. I refused. I didn't even talk to the guy, why in the world would I dance with him.
RSVP: rejected.
Evite has changed my life. Almost everything I do involves Evite. I hate it -- hate. it. -- when people don't respond "definitely!" or "no way!" and instead moulder in the ambiguous "washing my hair" list. There's nothing worse than no response at all.
Williams Carlos Williams' poems were short because he wrote them on prescription pads. I hate to think that a different notebook has affected my writing. The clothes that my words wear are long and flowing today. No mini-skirts or cropped tops. No plums waiting in the icebox, no chickens pecking in the rain.
I often wonder why people want to invite me to anything. I forget that everyone has a presence, something we have no control over. And sometimes that presence is desired.
No comments:
Post a Comment