2001-06-14 - 1:59 p.m.

My fortune cookie last night said, �You are compassionate and understanding.� Rob looked at me from across the table and grinned. Not too long ago, he said that I was the O negative blood type of people, the universal donor. I was flattered at first, and then a little worried. O negs are never the life of the party, the person everyone wants to see. O negs don�t plan things, or bring groups of people together. O negs assume that everyone�s too busy anyway, and scurry off to the movie theater all by themselves, changing seats three times to ensure an unobstructed view. O negs always say the right things, but never more than that. They don�t engage people in conversation, or make people think. O negs make other people feel good about themselves; they agree with everything that is said around them, they qualify every sentence that comes out of their mouth with �maybe� and �I guess� and �sorta.� They always say, �I can see your point.�

I�m a middle child. Older brother, two and a half younger sisters, twice-divorced parents (to each other). I�ve spent my whole life negotiating and compromising and trying to make everyone happy. Sometimes it worked, and sometimes it didn�t, and sometimes I would run to my room crying, stomach aching, anxiety washing all over me. When I graduated from college, I went to Europe for a year, on a work abroad permit. The moment the plane landed at London�s Gatwick Airport, I felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from my shoulders. For the first time in my life, I only had to worry about myself. It was quite easy.

Now I live, quite randomly, in Austin, Texas, halfway across the country from everyone I know and love. I miss my family, but it is easier to love them from a distance. My life is saner, and sometimes I even rebel against my O neg personality. The smartass comments, usually said under my breath, are a little louder and more frequent, although rarely hurtful and cruel. Sometimes I tell the stories, or give the opinions, and make everyone else listen. Occasionally, I�ll contradict or disagree, but always hesitantly, my head half turned over my shoulder, waiting to be put in my place, to apologize once again, to take it all back.

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