Being a "Lone Lorn Creetur"

   Lets bring some literature, some Dorothy Parker up into this haus. I read Parker's famous short story Big Blonde recently, and I felt a little bit like I was the main character in the story- except without the deep alcoholism and 1920's wining and dining. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the narrative (I sound like such a pretentious little brat, but really, I was unfamiliar with it up until last Monday) it deals with this woman who struggles with a personal identity which depends very much on her social identity, and the difficulty in maintaining her identity as a "good sport" as she gets older.
   The gist of it is that nobody is always a "good sport". It is impossible to happy all the time, and never appear even a little bit down around other people, and to demand such a thing of someone is a very tall order and you will become a raging alcoholic is you try to keep that up. Its weird because the very morning before I read the story, I was struggling with walking the line between unhappy and utterly unloveable. Obviously blah blah blah the people who matter will love you no matter what mood you're in, but loving and liking are entirely different.
   Of course people are allowed to be in bad moods, have bad days or weeks or months. But come on people, we all know how hard it is to hang out with that friend who is down on everything. Nobody wants to be a Mrs. Gummidge (see David Copperfield [look at me with my literary references]). Sometimes you're just blue though, and I often share the Big Blonde struggle of trying to suppress/ divert that in order to be a good sport.
   The more I think about it the more I conclude that it depends on context. If its your best friend's wedding and you're feeling the dark cloud, suck it up butter cup. If your spouse just went off to fight the Nazis during WW2, you're allowed to stay in that night. If you lost the necklace your grandmother gave you on the eve of your death, you're allowed to stay in. If they were all out of chicken wings on 99 cent wing night, suck it up butter cup. These are bad examples. Just don't turn to drink to impress a guy named Art ok?