I am awkward with strangers. This happened yesterday:
strange guy in street: How's it going?
me: (way too cheerfully) how are you?
guy: fine, thanks.
me: thank-you!
But with buffistas and others who feel like "my people" I am insanely friendly and talkative. I hope I didn't molest you in Seattle, Tom. I seem to remember wanting to smishify you but I can't remember if I followed through on that impulse.
ION wtf Iowa? Mom has friends who got gay married there a few years back. Please don't take away your citizens' rights, Iowa. We were wrong to do so in California.
Vortex, I'm the same way. I love being social, but when I'm at conferences and things like that I really do best when I have my own room to recharge at night.
During planning for the DC F2F, someone made the joke that while the festivities were going on in the hospitality suite, they'd be hanging out in the stairwell. A host of "me too"s followed that. It quickly became apparent there might be a handful of people partying in the suite, but the majority of us would be huddled, avoiding eye contact, in the stairwell.
It was posited at the time that we were Buffistas, effusively, expansively friendly and involved in each other's lives--online--because that level of engagement and contact wasn't comfortable or accessible to us IRL.
I had a English/Theatre History teacher who I idolized, and told her once that her classes were the high point of my day, that she brought such energy and enthusiasm to her subjects I couldn't help but stay interested and inspired. She took a beat, maybe two, and then said, "Every class is a performance." That was a little revelation to me. It helped me deal with social interaction--hell, it helps to this day. In social settings, I'm performing Bev as a social creature. It doesn't mean I'm not interested in the people to whom I'm talking, I am--I love you people! I'm just sharing space and not freaking the fuck out and retreating in terror and confusion because I'm presenting Bev as she would be without all the neuroses. It's a performance of me.
And then I have to run away for a while and recover and restore.
I love you all, but when I need to be alone, I NEED to be alone.
Again, why I am very glad that Pete has weekly D&D games. Because sometimes, I need to BE ALONE.
Cashmere and Sail, I think you'll appreciate this FB post from a friend of mine at UW Milwaukee:
So the governor tells me he's effectively reducing my salary by a further 5% (after a 5% cut last year), charging me double for health care, and closing my office for a snow emergency but still requiring me to either work or use vacation time. I'm trying to craft the perfect two word response.
I am very glad that Pete has weekly D&D games. Because sometimes, I need to BE ALONE.
I wish H played games. Or cards. Or fished. Or, you know, anything. Because it sort of sucks to have to leave home to hibernate for a few hours. One wants one's jammie pants and late shower and tea and solitude. Or even occasionally, comfort tv without mockage, or feeling that one is ousting the Other Human from his usual space and routine.
One thing Lewis has never been able to understand is my intense desire for solitude within my own home. There was a point, back when the kids were much younger, when I absolutely begged him to take the kids and go visit his parents in Florida (this was when we lived in Ohio) simply because I so desperately needed time alone.
He was devastated, seeing it as some sort of rejection of him and the kids, especially, when as he put it, I would get time alone when I went to conferences and the like. Except that wasn't really "alone" in the same way, even if I was in a room by myself. I wasn't in my space, with my things and if I wasn't at home, that meant that Lewis was, dealing with the kids and the minutiae of daily life, which meant if a question needed answering, then I was just a phone call away.
Not exactly my idea of alone time. Irony is, he actually often got what I most desired, since I was the one who often had to take the kids to go visiting the grandparents while he got to stay home. But it's not important to him. I never got to be alone in my own home until the kids started going to school.
But then, this is where the fine art of compromise happens-- I have my own office, with a door I can close. I can also go in the bedroom and again, shut the door.
(I've also never lived alone in my entire adult life- I'm still a little bitter about that.)
Apparently I am very good at faking how uncomfortable I am in large groups, at least with my family. Several people have told me that they didn't think I was uncomfortable at all at my wedding shower. Luckily my friends, including vw, knew better, and saved me from the crowds when I needed it.
I'm trying to craft the perfect two word response.
Fuck you sounds appropriate.
