the friend monster

Guilt. I hate it. Yet, I know I can be the queen of the guilt trip. It's disgusting really.

LizaLou, you're completely right about those people who make you feel guilty for not being there when they want you there—in that limited window of opportunity they provided. But the thing is, few of these people will be ever worth your time, worry, or effort. These are people you have to accept as they are and that your relationship with them will probably not progress any further. Given that it won't go any further, this is usually the point where I turn my focus to relationships that will.

You're not that unsociable, my event-going numbers are pretty similar to yours:
80% of bar-visiting invitations declined
80% of dance-club invitations declined
40% of regular party invitations declined
85% of college party invitations declined
but
95% of gatherings with my close friends accepted.

I am just that sociable.

These percents are right in line with me and what makes me happy. I care little if I miss the wildest party or best dance music ever. But I care a great deal if I miss the best joke my best friend has ever told or the evening spent together talking and being comfortable and happy.

We're not much different on this one. I think we'd both prefer that afternoon spent doing random errands with a close friend or spending an evening in a dear friend's living room even though you have no particular plans rather than at a large, social party filled with people who you'd have to make an effort to know, who'd probably prove at least mildly interesting but you'd probably not see again until the next big party.

Time is valuable. Time is limited. Why do you care so much if a acquaintance pouts a bit because you won't booze it up in a smoky bar with guys trying to rub up against you?

You know that I hate to tell people no. you know that I like to make people happy. I don't like for them to pout. Slowly, slowly, I'm learning this process of just flat out saying, no. It's hard. My tendency is to try to placate them. "Oh, that might be fun." "I'll see what my plans are." "Maybe I'll go." Bullshit. And then I let them down later because I back out at the end. It's rude. And I've decided that it's disrespectful. I have to respect the person and myself by being truthful and honest from the start. Damn that valuable decisiveness. I hate making decisions. (They seem to be easier when I'm telling others what I think they should do though.)

Sometimes I wish that all those other people, all those peripheral friends and acquaintances, would just go away—even the nice friendly ones—so that I wouldn't feel guilty for not spending time with them, so that I can spend all my free time with the people I feel matter most. Then I remember that if I did that, I wouldn't have put in the effort to become friends with you. I wouldn't be friends with my roommate, either. And I sigh. Stupid relationships. Stupid relationship building.