being intimidated in social situations isn't as sexy as one may believe it should be; at least for me. yesterday and last night, TFG, the beautiful boy, and i attended a family wedding. All Lutheran jokes aside, it was... well, highly Lutheran in nature. (more on that someday)
the ceremony was mercifully short and to the point, with little fanfare and the like. it was incredibly hot here, on the high plains-so the worst physical part was wearing a monkey suit in the hundred-degree sunshine. i've gotten to the point, however, in social situations, that i was (self) relegated to finding TFG's highly interesting and mercifully quiet and pointed father, and clinging to him for dear life.
when in social situations, i find myself believing that i'm constantly under scrutiny of some sort. this isn't, i don't believe, out of any lack of confidence in who i am or what i can offer to those around me. i simply can't tolerate loud, inane chatter. i don't enjoy loud, crowded, and obnoxious. drunken mispronunciations and overcorrections drive me up a wall. i was only pressured to jump out on to the dance floor and perform for a mystical, midwestern wedding party ritual once or twice. both times, while under loud protest, i quietly declined.
TFG and the beautiful Boy were in their element, however. busy, people, moving, talking, yelling, laughing; it's their thing, much like quiet, calm, and introspective is mine. i tolerated as much as i could, and some beyond, before i explained over the barking of "old time rock -n-roll" over the hotel PA system, that i needed to leave. some protest. some searching for compromise. some questioning. but, mercifully, TFG quickly understood what was happening and gave me the necessary blessing to go. (with the request to please come back to their home instead of to my little loft apartment downtown)
and that was it. once i was in the car, alone, with familiar (and loved, and artistically relevant) music in the CD player, the stress was gone. like a set of dirty clothes. i found my way to the freeway, and lazily circled the city, going an extra exit or two beyond my destination simply to extend the moment. the solitude.
i found my way back to TFG's home, and curled up in her amazing bed with her affectionate cat. alone, quiet, and with some freshly scored weed, i threw on Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince on audio, and fell asleep. an unknown time later, TFG arrived, loud and excited, and pissed about an affront that she and her immediate family had suffered at the hands of an uncaring wedding participant. i woke, tried to calm her down, and listened. i'm good with one-on-one communication, with those that i love and trust.
now, i realize the inherent dichotomy that this whole social anxiety thing is at direct odds with my hobby, which involves me getting in front of loud, drunken, obnoxious louts, and entertain them with loud, drunken, obnoxious music (custom crafted by and for idiots). somehow I've partitioned this into a "work" theme, where i can get onstage and play and count and remember breaks and quip self-effacing jokes and 'how does this song start again?' i don't get the telltale shivers of uncomfortability in live music situations, possibly because i'm up there with people that i love.
it's difficult to be split right down the middle sometimes. just ask TFG.
The road to Noville
on the Bastogne/Noville/Rachamps highway, Bastogne, Belgium
The sorting hat says that I belong in Ravenclaw!
1 comment:
Wow do I understand. Especially the part about the work self and the social self. I've got to be out in front when I speak and run conferences. But in my own regular little world, I'd much rather not be noticed in a crowd. And then I like to get the hell out of the crowd all together. I truly hope you make it to Corvallis. We can be wallflowers together. :o)
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