You're Friends With the Enemy of My Friends, or Something

I'm always confused at the way that life refuses to follow rules of logic. If someone is the enemy of my friend, they ought to be my enemy, I would think. And two people who are friends of mine ought to get along, just by logical necessity.

Alas, the commutative and associative properties that are so basic to mathematics are completely foreign to the workings of actual relationships between actual human beings. I think I'm the sort of person whose intuition gives him a good understanding of these sorts of mathematical principles, and much less understanding of human behavior.

Really, though, as much as it's simply beyond comprehension to me, I do love the illogical nature of pretty much all interpersonal interaction. On the other hand, I've never really felt at home with it at all. And by "it", I mean pretty much everything about the way normal people (or even the not-quite-so-normal people who make up most of my acquaintances) interact with each other.

I've often thought to myself that the way I deal with meeting new people is most similar to Jane Goodall meeting new chimps (or was it gorillas; for once I'm not going to look it up, just mentally substitute the correct non-human primate if it bothers you). First, I hang out in the periphery, quietly observing and hoping people get used to me being around. Then I slowly start picking up on the way socializing works, and slowly try to work my way into things.

Well, this actually turned out to be more personal than I intended. But it kind of felt good, so maybe I'll do more. Goodnight for now, though.