Kindred Introverted Spirits

I recently got a great haircut, I mean really great, my new stylist is a magician - in spite of the fact that she would be a shoe-in for the lead in a Tim Burton movie. Actually, I didn't find her, an extroverted friend (EF) of mine insisted that I give her a try - and since she scheduled the appointment, drove me to it, and took me to Happy Hour after, how could I resist?  EF would have normally gone to appointment number two with me, but she couldn't make it.  Once the introduction was made though, three is a crowd, so that was perfectly fine with me.  I know that's an old cliche, but its more of a mantra when you're a Class A introvert like myself.  However, this meant no Happy Hour so,  *Cue the sigh*.

After the initial 'what do you do' and other socially required niceties, we started talking about my friend. Stylist tells me she got a picture of EF at EF's daughter's baby shower.  What??  I couldn't believe my ears.  When EF sent me said pic, it made sense as EF and I have been friends for 14 years.  Why on earth she would send the picture to Stylist is so far beyond me I can't grasp it.  Then it hit me.  Obviously she sent the pic to probably every woman in her phone. Holy Hell-fire batman who does that?  Clueless extroverts, that's who.  

Oh, but that was just the beginning.  Apparently EF actually invited Stylist to the baby shower!  Yup.  EF thinks because she's had three, yes three, haircuts from Stylist she's entitled to insinuate herself in Stylist's life and that Stylist must be interested in her amazing everything, right.  Wow.  That's ballsy and in my introverted opinion, rude as hell.

I know I harp on the differences between introverts and extroverts, but that's because I am astonished, and experience new mind-blowing examples of this phenomenon, almost daily.  Introverts are readers of other people's cues, expressions, tones, levels of friendliness, and commonalities to get a sense of the type of connection that is developing.  Ssllowwwwwly.  Clueless Extroverts couldn't give a shit about any of that, they'll just jump right in and assume you're as excited to hear about the details of their wonderful life as they are to share it.  But don't worry, it's not a two way street, they don't want to hear about any of the details of your life any more than you want to share.

We are the original odd couple.  Me just trying to go about my business while she runs amok. Going anywhere with EF - to a happy hour, shopping, or even for a walk on a quiet trail, means bracing myself for her incessant (read: embarrassing) need to talk with total strangers.  When I say talk with, I really mean talk to as she is not terribly interested in listening part.   If passers-by don't pay attention to her, never fear, she'll sick her extroverted little yapper on them.  The retractable leash is the perfect tool for just such a job.  She allows the little prop to run up to, and right in front of, unsuspecting joggers who then hear "Oh, Painintheass (not her real name), not everyone wants to play with you haha, sorry!"  Sorry?  Sorry my dog made you lurch-stop/stumble nearly shredding your meniscus.  Then it's "You can pet her if you want, she LOVES people!"  Wehell, Yay!

Even without the damn dog, EF is a master at starting a conversation where no one else is looking for one.  More than once she's breathlessly told me how she 'was shopping one day and this woman came up to her and complimented her necklace and told her how cute she looked.' Um, yeah I'm guessing that's not exactly the way this little tete-a-tete transpired.  I'm sure EF shelled out an insincere compliment for the thinly disguised purpose of getting one back, providing her a well-calculated springboard for launching one of her classic one-sided conversations.  I've seen it a thousand times, and I've become fairly adept at recognizing it before it even starts - seriously, I have started to actually feel her looking around for a victim - and I'll slink away quietly while avoiding eye contact with the poor patsy.  I don't need that guilt by association look. 

So, while sitting in front of the mirror at appointment number two it was pretty clear, Stylist and me are kindred introverted spirits, kintrospirits if you will.  (I wonder if I can get that to catch on...nope don't care enough).  It's not that we didn't talk, we actually had a very pleasant and balanced conversation about our introverted life in general, and about how an introverted hair stylist makes it through a day of small talk with numerous people, many of whom are deathly afraid of silence.  

So why do I keep coming back for more when even EF drives me nuts, embarrasses me, and has never listened to a word I've thought? I love her dearly.  I know it makes little sense that I have so many extroverted friends.  I think its because if it weren't for extroverts, I wouldn't talk to anyone.  Maybe I am drawn to them because they're easy to talk to, or, more accurately, be talked at by.  Even us introverts need a social outlet when the mood strikes, and quite often we have to force ourselves.  I've found that taking advantage of the perks of a clueless extrovert can make social interaction easier.  Like the fact that I NEVER have to keep the conversation going. 

But I will never be able to grasp how can anyone think that their hair stylist of a few months wants to go to their daughter's baby shower?   Seriously!

The Art of Backing the Hell Off

After my divorce, I moved into one of those neighborhoods where you can reach out your kitchen window and touch your neighbor's awkwardly similar house. The kind of neighborhood I used to say I would rather die than live in.  That's harsh but it sort of sums up how I used to look at everything.  I am ashamed to admit I went through my 20s and part way through my 30s thinking I was a little "better than", even bordering on the uptight.  Around 40, I mellowed and began to know true joy.  I started to focus my increasing energy more on connecting with people in meaningful ways and less on impressing perfect strangers.

My husband did not appreciate these changes, even though my friends and the rest of the world seemed to really dig New Me.  I don't know why he felt threatened by all this, but I am guessing it had something to do with the attention I was getting.  Or maybe it was that I discovered flavored vodka about this time.  Oh, and maybe the tattoo didn't help either. (Sidenote: if your wife comes home with a tattoo, you love it. Period.  Get me?  No criticism, no anger, and definitely no "shouldn't I have been consulted?"  Are we clear on that?) Whatever it was, it unraveled 14 years of marriage in a big hurry.  All I know is I was having a ball.  More than once, my husband referred to this transition as a mid-life crisis, but aside from the very small and easily hidden tattoo, I didn't do anything over the top, or go out and buy a fancy car or flashy clothes, or try to act younger than I was.  Actually, I was pretty proud of being 40 and celebrated the entire year.  That was just another thorn in his increasingly irritated side.

Gentlemen, there are two ways to handle yourself when your wife comes into her own and becomes happier, more confident, and maybe even a little hot.  You can get nervous to the point of stuttering and grunting, question her incessantly, sit in the back of the room with your arms folded, then whine about "not being included" in her fun and eventually end up divorced.  Or you can take her out dancing and know that at closing time, if you've shown her the man you are and how much you enjoyed watching her dance, (not insisting on dancing every song with her, trying to slow dance when it's not slow-dancin' music!) chances are you will have a really, really great night.  Unfortunately my ex took off like a bat outta hell down the first road and only stopped badgering me long enough to explain why he had every right to badger me.  We didn't last long after that.

I realize that is a gross simplification of an unnerving marital paradigm shift, but trust me when I tell you if you go to that insecure, phone-checking, follow her down the hall, "can I ask you a question" place, you will chase her right into another man's arms so you might as well start apartment hunting.  When you begin to notice these rather inevitable changes in your wife, you must realize that this is about her, not you, and there's nothing you can do about it other than keep your emotions in check, take a deep breath, and maybe even pretend to enjoy the ride.

The depths of the insecurity and jealousy you didn't even know you had in you will surprise you and be very difficult to tamp down.  Do. It. Anyway.  This is an excellent time to exercise your God-given right to shut the fuck up.  Always think before you speak and think twice before you act.  Of course, you will feel like your world has been ripped out from the comfortably boring place its been for the last ten years.  But whatever it takes, if you want to stay married, do not give in to the temptation to go into panic-driven scramble mode.  Do not call her mother and tell on her. Do not ask your sister-in-laws to fix her over lunch.  Do not call her best friend ask her if she will "talk some sense" into your wife, and for Christ's sake, do not call the co-worker you suspect her of canoodling with and ask in a whiny tone "so, I was just wondering what are your intentions with my wife?"  If you do suspect there's some goings on and you're determined to call the guy, I suggest something more along the lines of "listen you Mother Fucker, if you don't stay the hell away from my wife and that includes texting, phone calls, and email, I will show up on your fucking doorstep and make God Damned sure you and your wife get where I'm coming from. Capiche?". This will go a LOT farther in showing her, and him, you are a man with a pair of balls who isn't afraid to use them.  Although I still say this is a bad idea and accomplishes little more than broadcasting to Mr. McHotsfuff that there's trouble in paradise.

Think about it.  When you invite other people in trying to "fix" your relationship, (read: your wife) you're going to come off as a pathetic little Nancy who can't handle his shit like a man.  Not to mention that this will be fodder for your friends to 'not tell anyone'.  And let's not forget that you will have belittled the woman you supposedly want to be with.  Generally not a good idea.  Then there's the part where you're publicly acknowledging that you can't keep The Missus happy at home.  And trust me, her mom and her best friend will  A L W A Y S  have her back and she will know within nano-seconds that you called, and exactly what you said.  Verbatim.

If you want to be the guy she wants to be with, rather than the guy she can't wait to get away from, know this: When you choose to snoop, berate, question, and tearily accuse, you are choosing to alienate her.  Possibly irreparably.  At every turn you have a choice to make and if you ask yourself "do I want her to think of me as a man or an insecure nut-job", it can help you not act like a complete ass.  Swallow those overwhelming emotions whole and get through the day thinking about the real effect of your actions.  Look past the immediate yet fleeting satisfaction of letting her know you are disappointed in everything she does, says, thinks, feels, and has become.  Her deer in headlights look should tell you you're on dangerous ground.  You are actually causing a negative physical reaction to being in the same room with you.  Do you see how this is the opposite of helping?  You will never solve any issues by not allowing a moment together to exist without a "can we talk?".  Remember, so far all she's done is become a happier and more joyful person so she isn't on the same page with your Chicken Little brand of paranoia.

This is a good time to focus on anything else besides your swirling thoughts.  This is a struggle for some guys because somewhere along the way you forgot who you are.  This is your chance to dive into your hobby.  If you don't have one, please get one.  There's not a lot more boring, (another word for unsexy) than someone whose only hobby is worrying about his wife leaving him.  This means you will have to leave her alone every so often while you pursue this thing you better have some sort of passion for.  Maybe even stop for a beer on your way home.  *Cue the gasp*  Yes, this woman who you think you need to hover over must be left alone every once in a while if you ever want her to miss you.  Come home with an interesting story and resist the urge to ask for an accounting of every second of her much needed hour and a half alone.

Basically what I'm saying here is don't be a pussy.  This phase of her life can bring you so much closer together if instead of viewing it as a threat, you embrace it, and encourage it.  Ultimately, these changes in your wife may be too much for you to handle as a couple, but be sure that you aren't needlessly harshing her mellow with your incessant whiny-pants act along the way.  It takes a real man to understand that backing off might be all it takes to save everything he's scared as hell of losing.   If you have to take a step back and let her do what she needs to do, then step back -  and not begrudgingly.  Support when you can, brag about her a little, and remember that she wants, not needs, a man and she will have one.  At least give her the option of him being you.  In the end, if you can't make it work together, you can still hold your head high and know that you didn't drive her away, and maybe even left her wondering if she made a big mistake.

Clueless Extroverts, I'm talking about you

 If you're an introvert, you know it.  If you're an extrovert, you don't know it unless someone else tells you you are.  Why?  Because introverts are very self aware, extroverts wouldn't think to find out why they are the way they are.

This is not a scientific book, or a self-help book.  It's based on observations and conversations with other introverts and extroverts from all over the extroverted spectrum.  The spectrum ranges from friendly people who are comfortable in any setting, to those that have no clue just how irritating they can be because they never shut up long enough to think about how they are perceived.  They're pretty much self-obsessed. 

I love being an introvert. We are superior social beings really, since we make an effort not to annoy other people. If we suffer socially, it isn't because we want to become more extroverted, it's because we get embarrassed for those extroverts who don't know how irritating they are. I'm not talking about the enviable social star extroverts who are comfortable in any setting, actually listen to people, spend some one-on-one time with others, but don't annoy the hell out of people.  I'm talking about the the Clueless Extroverts, you know, those people who start a conversation with you just to hear themselves talk, then move from topic to topic touching on all of the amazing things that have happened since they talked to you two days ago, while your head spins and throbs as you look for the nearest exit. How anyone can be energized by this is beyond me. 

This got me thinking about the differences between the Introverts (Is) and the Clueless Extroverts (CEs) beyond just personality type. This is about how the two can have completely different experiences in the same situation.  (I don't have to worry about offending anyone, no Clueless Extrovert will EVER think this is about them.)

~ Is consider "how are you" the most basic of rhetorical questions, with only one possible answer.
~ CE thinks "how are you" is an invitation to launch into a run-down of everything they have seen, heard, felt, thought of, or dreamed in the last 72 hours.

~If CE hears you're having lunch with a friend, she'll skip the part where you didn't invite her and let you know she can probably make it if she gets done with her hair appointment in time.  Is would love to have lunch with you.  Just you.  Please do not surprise Is with three other friends we're 'just going to LOVE!'  We won't.  In fact, we may even remember something we completely forgot that needs to be taken care of IMMEDIATELY and disappear.  This is why we will always meet you there rather than having you pick us up.  Is always have an escape plan. 

~ For the CE, caller ID is necessary so she'll know when to put you on hold and answer her other call.  For Is, it's a safety net to help us not accidentally answer when CE calls unless we're 'in the mood to talk' (listen) and have a minimum of an hour to kill.  Bluetooth/headsets were invented so Is could still peek out the window and make sure another CE isn't stopping by unannounced while listening to the CE drivel on about their latest over-exaggerated experience.

~ CE will ask you a bait question hoping you'll bite and ask either the exact same question, or one close to it because they have something they can't wait to share with you. Don't bother answering their initial question, they won't hear your answer, they'll be too busy planning the most dramatic way to tell you their amazing news. The I will do everything they can not to take the bait. It won't matter, the CE will figure out a way to tell you what they have to say anyway.

If the CE is sporting a black eye, the story (You're going to hear it anyway, you might as well ask and make their day) will take at least 25 minutes to tell.  If the I gets a black eye, they'll spend 25 minutes covering it up before leaving the house, so no one will ask about it. 

CE thinks it's their contribution to society to get Is out of the house.  Is will resist unless and until the mood strikes (see doing lunch above.  Same rules apply.  One on one, we'll take  own car and meet you.)  Is will never say no outright (we're introverted, not bitchy) but please feel free to take that glazed over look, accompanied by that utterly unenthusiastic 'yeah, that would be fun, but I'm really...*voicetrailsoffmumblemumblemumble*.  The great news is, your answers are rarely heard and she's already off on a new topic so *whew*.

~CE wants to introduce you to her friends.  Is wants to make sure you don't know any of her other friends, thus risking the group thing.  We hate group lunches, parties, dinners, brunches, and forget those GD baby showers.  Thank you Target registry for making sending a gift so easy!

~CE phone message:  "OMG I have a question for you, and I have a great idea can't wait to tell you, and you won't believe what happened to me today. "   Note the ambiguity.  Can't risk eliminating the need for a follow-up conversation!
~Is phone message:  "Hey.  Just wondering if you want to run in the morning. Text or leave a message and let me know."  Straight and to the point. 

~CE never met a stranger.  Everyone is a prospective best friend. When I say friend I mean listener.  When I say best it doesn't matter as long as they listen, CE can have multiple best friend's, Is will only have one. Even if CE is out shopping with Is, she'll try to rope perfect strangers into the conversation while Is tries to become invisible. Is avoid the possibility of meeting new people, as well as running into the few we already know. Any venture outside the house is planned accordingly.  Can I get an amen for grocery shopping at 7am in a baseball hat.  

Warning to Is mixing alcohol with CE will make you forget you are an I!  Suddenly all of CE's far fetched plans will sound like a total hoot.  Then you will sober up and now you have an unpleasant job to do.  You'll have to back out of said plan because you would rather set your hair on fire than visit CE's grown daughter 2 hours away and then 'go antiquing' with them!!!!!  For the love of God when will you learn?

Being a CE wouldn't be such a bad gig every once in a while. To not fret over every conversation and just dive right in and talk about oneself would be fun for a change. God, I can't even type that with a straight face.

CEs of the world, take a deep breath. At least make an effort to find other CEs to talk over and let us Is recuperate. You suck the life out of us and we need a break.

Quit trying to fix me. I'm an introvert, I'm not broken.

I have more than one extroverted friend who sees my lifestyle as their charity project. As if getting the introvert out of the house is somehow akin to saving the whales. I've gone out for Happy Hour with one friend, only to be ambushed by two or more of her extroverted friends.  Good Lord, by themselves they're nearly unbearable.  In a pack, it's rabid hyenas.  It's hard to concentrate on multiple banal conversations when all you can think about it finding the nearest exit. I don't want to have to come out and say that I have absolutely no interest in your friends, family, coworkers, etc, and I would think the fact that I never ask about these things, my silence, plus my incessant yawning and looking around the room, would be enough of a clue.  I know they mean well in their tireless attempts to assimilate me into their extended group of friends, but I am holding fast.

When an extroverted friend asks "what are you doing next Saturday?" I come by a deeper understanding of the 'fight or flight' response. While I was once a little slow on the uptake, I've become fairly adept at blurting plausible sounding activities I'll be very busy doing. It doesn't matter though - they'll then utter a sentence I can't begin to grasp the formation of... "oh, because my sister's neighbor is having a candle party, you should come".  Oh, Saaahweet, Ever-Lovin' Jesus. That my extroverted friend thinks I'd be interested in such nonsense tells me she has never listened to a word I've thought.

Oh, believe me, I've grown up enough to semi-politely decline these invitations, but it just never ends there. It's nearly always followed up with an "oh, come on, it'll be fun, there'll be prizes" (oh, goody, prizes means there'll be games!) or worse yet, the covert insult:  "it'll do you good to get out". Oh, and there It is. The you're broken, you need to be fixed angle. Umm, exactly how will it do me good to watch some annoyingly perky gal schlepping overpriced sugar cookie candles?  Not that I really care, but if you're going to shill  a product, I think makeup is the ONLY one that makes any sense at all, simply because it gets used up.  Yes, candles do too, but we aren't going to scare the shit out of the liquor store clerk if we run out of Mango Madness votives, are we?  But even then, I certainly don't want to schedule  a "complimentary color consultation" while your husband alternates between snoring and yelling at the kids (and/or the TV) in the next room.

I will never understand you dear extroverted friend, and I wish you would stop trying to understand (read: fix) me.  Let's just have a cocktail and relax until the moment I've had enough of you and need to get home to my beloved solitude. Nothing personal, really. You are convinced I need to get out more and be around people.  Why? How is it you don't know me well enough to know I surely don't feel compelled to join the candle party clutch in their 'adult conversation' -- which I've discovered means little more than talking in psuedonegative tones about the family they supposedly couldn't wait to get away from. 

Sure, I have let my guard down and shown up as the 'bring a friend, score some useless crap' a time or two. Gawd just remembering these lapses in judgment makes me want to flog myself.  I'm not sure if it was the number of times I heard "ooh, smell this one", or just my general disdain for being there in the first place, but I came way too close to throttling the cheery little 'independent consultant' for not taking no for an answer to the dumbest question ever asked:  Do I want to self-address a postcard and sign up to sell the same crap she's hocking as her 'sub-independent consultant'.  It might have made the party a little uncomfortable for a moment, but the quiet girl across the room nodded in my direction, which I took as a subtle showing of solidarity.

I've vowed to never go to another, so when I politely decline your invitation, please don't make me do it twice. Listen to my visual cues.  And here's a straight forward clue for you that you can always count on to be true.  An introvert's roundabout non-answer is a big fat NO FUCKING THANK YOU!  There must be more pressing social causes out there, so notice that I am perfectly happy and content and don't need to be fixed.

Nix the diaper stories at the martini bar, please

Every once in a while I am reminded why I am perfectly content as an introvert.

When I finally do get a wild hair and feel like being social, I head straight to a bar. I love the idea of being served whatever suits me that evening and talking to one of my handful of close friends.

At a trendy new bar, my friend and I were well on our way and deep in conversation when two of her friends sat down next to us. (I could go on about why extroverts are never happy one-on-one and always have to waylay you with surprise guests, but that's a topic for another post.) In a single breath, one of them ordered a martini up and slightly dirty and then seamlessly, while waiting for the concoction to be poured, launched into a narrative about how little Johnny has been giving his hapless day care provider fits by squatting in the corner instead of using the potty. Please help me wrap my mind around how these subjects can live in the same moment. Actually, never mind - that's a rhetorical question as the answer would possibly bore me more than the original, real-time account of the potty debacle.

It went on from there. More Johnny stories. Many more. It's a horrible affliction that otherwise normalish people are cursed with, yet utterly oblivious to. How awful would it be to not get how annoying your stories are to others? (Sidenote: why are bores so loud?) I realize I am likely just as annoying in some other way, but I know it's not driveling on endlessly about my kids. It may be the fierceness with which I'll protect my free time. Or my mile-wide, three foot deep sarcastic streak. Perhaps its the furtive way I'll ask questions designed to put the onus for keeping the conversation going on you, so that I don't have to talk. Notice though, that I'll NEVER ask about your kids over a cocktail. Never.

When people (me) are out having martinis or any other fun, they (I) don't want to talk about your kids. Period. No exceptions. No innocuous teething quips, no day-care conundrums, no diaper mishaps. Ever.

The next time you start down this long, irksome road, please look around and notice that I am poking myself in the eye with my swizzle stick and trying to lodge my olive crosswise.