I say happy too much

I am in pain from trying to stifle my laughter. Pain, I tell you!

Because you know, there's really no feeling better in the world than being happy because other people are happy. This...kind of goes back to that very strange Quizilla-esque 'what sort of psychic are you' post from a while ago; in short, I am addicted to people's happiness, and friendship, and general feelings of affection for others.

Which is actually a little sad, because it seems significantly easier to be happy like this, because of total strangers and fictional characters, than it is to be happy...because I am happy. I know that seems a little redundant, but I would argue that they're not the same thing at all. It's very self-sacrificing and Disney-movie to admit to, but perhaps it's more clear if I phrase it like this: I am happy because people I care about are happy.

It's different from, I'm happy because you guys are happy, and when you guys are happy you're more cheerful and therefore more fun to be around. These people have no effect on my life! And it's not like there aren't things that I put in the other category of my own happiness--I'm happy at the farm, volunteering. I'm happy sitting down and playing something beautiful on the piano. Etcetera. But these are more fleeting and less common than this other, mooching happiness.

...I need a life. Or real, tangible people to be around once again. Maybe I just don't see people enough? I see you all at school, but it's not exactly like there's tons of interaction there, and I'm just as much to blame as anyone else for that. And everyone's either busy enough that I don't want to plan things, or else things are planned, but they're last-minute enough that I don't bother asking my parents. Or I just don't want to go, because hell, if I'm being honest it's a lot easier to just get this weird, fake-happy from my computer and my books and my TV screen than to actually have a two-way relationship.

Wow, I'm lame. I mean, I knew it before, but ouch. I feel like everything older generations say about human communication going down the drain has just been exemplified. And I guess it's not like this blog helps much in terms of improving my face-to-face time...but it does work as a stand-in of sorts when all of you bitches are out of town having fabulous vacations. So there.

I guess the bottom line is, I'm happy, but I'm depressed about why I'm happy, and I miss you all (and by you all, I mean the singular Schmidt-reader--I suppose I'll have to find other, non-blog ways of telling everyone else).