Pros & Cons of Being an Introvert

Whoops.  Been a little while since I wrote a thing, hasn't it?  My bad!  In all honesty, I've struggled to think of something to write about that doesn't involve clocking up mileage in my trainers.  In the last couple of weeks, I've gone crawling back to CrossFit (SO happy to get back to it!) and have discovered that I'm almost back at square one when it comes to upper body strength, which is fine.  Means I get to go back almost to newbie status where every minor improvement I make blows my tiny little mind.  

Miraculously, I have a Monday off work today - insert smug and gloaty comment here - so I've decided that now is the time to hop back aboard the blog train.  Choo choo!  Still struggling to think of something of actual interest to blog about, so I'm going to do the next best thing and write about myself.  When in doubt... thinly veiled narcissism!  Hurrah!!

So...me!

I am a keen devourer of anything remotely touching on psychology, especially if it has self help-esque undertones in it.  Think Bridget Jones, if she was drawn in by dubiously sourced percentages and stats.  I enjoy reading about personality types, even though I do have enough brain cells to realise that a lot of it needs to be taken with a pizza-load of salt, let alone a grain.  Said brain cells may be lying dormant, tucked somewhere behind my ears, but they are there nonetheless.  

There are a billion and twelve different categories you can fall into in the murky world of personality testing, but I'm going to touch on one of the big two - introvert and extrovert.  After much extensive reading and reflection (internetting and reading pop psychology books like the true psychologist I am), I have determined that I am the former.  Introverts aren't necessarily just quiet and/or shy.  Although on the sliding scale of social ineptitude, I often lean towards the "cat stole, devoured and pooped out your tongue" end, given the right combination of familiarity/excitement/being in comfort zone (drunk.  Being the right amount of drunk), I can be a tough one to shut up once I get going.  Where you are in terms of being an introvert or extrovert is on a spectrum, but from what I gather, introverts:

• Internalise much of what happens to them (check)
• Express themselves better in writing than verbally (check?  I haz the words good?)
• More energised by time alone than social occasions (went to a brilliant wedding this weekend, booked the Monday immediately after it off to hide in my house eating cheese toasties away from humankind.  Case in point)
• Especially chatty internal monologue (shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!!)
• Sensitive and shit.

All of the above applies to yours truly.  Now that I have decided what I am (sadly, dinosaur wasn't an option.  Or unicorn warrior princess), I must be an expert in introvert...ism(?), so I am like, totally qualified to dole out some information about what it's like to be an introvert for those who aren't or are unsure of which camp they should be pitching their tents in.  Ahem...

Pros and Cons of Being an Intovert

Heehee, I love Cyanide and Happiness.  Click here for more funnies - http://explosm.net/

Pro:  When people have decided that you're one of "the quiet ones", anything you do that isn't avoiding eye contact and hiding in the office fridge from human interaction is mightily impressive, considering how you're so shy and all.  "Oh, my God, guys, she told a joke!  Let's all laugh uproariously to show her how brave she is!"

Con:  Sometimes people don't expect you to be able to handle as much as you can i.e confrontation, responsibilities etc etc.  They are forgetting that we are prepared for every single fathomable outcome of every situation because we have already over thought them all.  Raptor attacks included.  Is chatty Bill from accounts prepared for raptor attacks?  No?  Didn't think so.

Pro:  It is so easy to entertain yourself! Days off work are gold dust.  The less I have planned, the better.  I shit you not - after a busy week at work, I like nothing better than having twenty minutes to sit alone in the living room with the TV off.  Who needs recreational drugs when you have stifling quiet, solitude and snacks?  I think that part of my affection for long distance running is that I get to spend ages just being.  It's easy to appreciate the little things in life when you get off on just being alive at any given point in time.  We're a cheap date in the long night out that is life!

Con:  Whenever an introvert is having a quiet day, it usually means that there's a full on brass band/fireworks display/Rammstein concert of an inner monologue going on in their brain.  Not necessarily always negative thoughts as such, but always, always so bloody LOUD!!  It's hard to concentrate on speaking to people when you have a voice on loop in your mind going "Oh, they think I'm being rude because I'm not talking, maybe I should say something, it's been too long since I've said something, oh, here's your opportunity to say something, oops, you missed it, I'm hungry, what time is it, what are they talking about again, look how rude I'm being, say something, not that, something else..."  On some days, I would find having the Crazy Frog song stuck in my head easier to cope with than my own inner voice.  She's a pain in the ass.

Pro:  Sometimes people assume that you've got more of the clever than you actually has because you must spend all that time alone/sat with your gob shut, thinking.  Hahaha fools!  *chews TV remote*

Con:  Small talk makes me want to set my hair on fire just so I've got something else to do.  I hate the idea of coming off as disingenuous, and strongly feel that conversations should be for:

a. learning more about each other
b. sharing opinions and information, or
c. lolz

I'm acutely aware that the purpose of small talk is to make slightly awkward situations feel less awkward to those involved.  This in itself makes me feel so uncomfortable that I'm convinced that one day, I will spontaneously combust out of discomfort and/or embarrassment when someone innocently points out that it's rainy.  At least if it's raining, I won't cause accidental arson on a large scale.

I would continue, but I have some serious pottering around the house to attend to.  It's going to be MENTAL!!  Party on, friends.  I will take less than a fortnight to write the next one, promise!

You're Not Unattractive...

So, this post was inspired by a recent string of tweets by Queen Caitlin Moran (see the picture in my downstairs area). She made a joke about one of those spam messages that delightfully inform us useless internet monkeys how we can do the weight loss thing "with this one simple, weird trick!" This tweet resulted in lots of people not wearing their sarcasm hats that day telling her not to worry, because she was beautiful "on the inside." Ouch.

I bet none of those people meant ill. They just wanted their favourite big-haired purveyor of awesomeness to feel good about herself. It put me in mind of when my sister and I were teenagers, and she asked me that burning question that sits at the very core of every teenaged human being(no, not "Will I ever get laid?"... the other burning question...and anyway, that one doesn't burn your core, the area affected is more specif...fucking hell, what? Shut up! This is why we write ROUGH DRAFTS FIRST, Becky! Get on with it already!). The question slapped me in the face like a cold wet fish. I didn't know what to do with it, and it made me feel shocked and uncomfortable.

"Beck, do you think I'm ugly?"

Oh, Christ. I'm slightly older than you, but still a teenager also, so I can't show you any emotion other than grumpy tolerance. I am convinced that I look like a troll smeared in lard and partially melted, and you look a bit like me -being related and all, so I can tell you that I think you look a bit like me... I hate myself too much to even fully acknowledge what you look like. You're just the thing I huff at when I pass it in the hall right now. But no, now that I'm being forced to uncomfortably rate you on your appearance, I don't think you're ugly. You've got a more angular (translated: less guinea piggish) face than me. You're taller, with nicer hair and boobs that don't disappear when you lie down. You already have a cooler taste in music, all clothes look better on you than me... But now that I realise this, I've decided that I hate you. Nothing personal. So, I can't tell you that I think you're prettier than me. But I can't be outwardly horrible to you, because you're clever enough to figure out that I'm just jealous. Right, okay, I've got it.

"Well, you're not unattractive...."

It was horrible. Brutal, even. She still brings it up from time to time to make me feel like a terrible person. We've since developed what passes for an amicable relationship to the untrained eye, and we can even hug now! The hugging took a long progression of back slaps and awkward head pats before we figured out the sisterly embrace. Key: drink.

Point is, there are just some things, no matter how well intentioned they might be, that you cannot say to people without it coming back to slap you in the face. Some things will always sound backhanded, no matter how they're meant. Here are a few I've learned from experience:

- "Wow, I didn't know I was that strong!": This was a recent one. On a night out, with reflexes I didn't know I possessed (I'm a dropper, not a catcher), I rescued a female friend from a high heeled tumble. That was what I said after she thanked me. Thank fuck she saw the funny side!

- "Don't know why they asked me to do this with you. Because I can spell?": Another recent one. Paired with a girl at work to do a task involving writing and recording some answer phone messages. She's got a lovely answer phoney voice and a working brain, so I wasn't sure why I'd been asked to help do a job she's perfectly capable of nailing solo. What I said was meant as a self depreciating joke. Because I've got an English degree, if they want any write-y stuff done at work, they usually asked me. So I was mocking the uselessness of my degree. Probably not the best joke to make in front of a girl who hasn't long informed me she's dyslexic.

- "You're trying your best!": Encouraging ever? No! Why? Because you're inferring that I'm trying my best, rather than being the best. I am, of course, the best at everything. Why would you hint otherwise? Fucknugget.

- "You're not fat..." Yeah? I'm not thin either, am I? Don't skirt around the subject, wuss! I know what you really meeeeean! *sips on gin and sucks back a sob*

- "Your fringe doesn't look that bad!" Oh Christ, I've got a There's Something About Mary going on, haven't I? I need to go home IMMEDIATELY!! *throws gin over shoulder and flounces home.*

.... I have a deep seated issue with my fringe which has lead to the creation of hairspray-puppet head when I go on nights out. But that's a post and a picture for another time. Because I don't get out much these days. I'm not a great drinker anymore. Nor was I ever... Again, diff post, diff times.

What lesson was I trying to teach you here? Oh, yeah. If someone asks you a question that you don't have the answer they want to hear for it, lie. Lie hard and wholeheartedly, like your life depends on it. At least then, your well intentioned enthusiasm might make up for the fact that you're going to Hell for lying to your loved one in some small way. Basically, you can't really win. Unless you light yourself on fire before you have time to answer. Everyone is distracted by fire. Conversation evaded.

Smarty Pants

I like eating Smarties. I find the quizzes on the back of their boxes both entertaining and educational...

But I can't help but think that the fates were taking the piss when the question "which Q was the hunchback of Notre Dame?" cropped up after I've just got over 3 solid days of crouching and limping.

Coincidence is a funny old thing.

It's also a teasing bully.

Adverse Weather Pigeon

I adore snow. My fascination with the white stuff (oo-err, missus!) hasn't waned with age in the slightest. I'm still the first one with her nose pressed to the window, and the first to tarnish the virgin white blanket in the garden with footprints. And I love the utter chaos this weather causes in Britain. It's like the whole country gets brain freeze and temporarily can't remember how to function. I very nearly wet myself when the weather lady claimed that this week, there would be a red weather warning issued. Red warning? Sounds dangerous and a little bit saucy...

And this year - tonight, in fact, I've discovered a new favourite thing about surprise snow: the Adverse Weather Pigeon. I came across several of these normally shy specimen on a walk to the corner shop with A.

The Adverse Weather Pigeon is typically male and only ever makes an appearance when sudden and infrequent weather conditions strike. In this case, a sudden, thick snow fall over Swansea.

The thicker the snow, the more of these critters I was able to witness first hand. As others duck into their warm and soup-filled homes for protection against the downpour, the AWPs strut out onto the street "to have a look at what's going on." Once stationed in front of their homes, the AWPs bob their heads out onto the road, looking for small crashes and tumbles to feed their need to pass judgement and coo it at offending members of the public that didn't have to good sense to remain in their safe doorways like they did. One seasoned (trans: old) male stopped us, ruffling his feathers and alerting us to the "pretend four wheel-drive" struggling pitifully to make its way up the hill behind the real 4x4s. Word of warning: pretend to coo back in agreement. And always. Keep. Moving. AWPs do have a tendency to follow, especially when encouraged.

Hills. This is the preferred habitat for AWPs. Happily nested on a hill, they can fuel their need for mild drama and judgement by disguising themselves as Helpful People when the need arises. At the slightest screech of a tyre, they will dart en masse to the source of the noise, not unlike the common city pigeon at the sound of a bag of bread being opened. Once at the scene, joining the inevitable flock of other AWPs that will already be at there, the AWP will circle the struggling vehicle that is trying and failing to make it up the icy incline, shouting helpful suggestions such as "come on!","if you pump the clutch..." and, my personal favourite "ooh, you shouldn't be driving in this,love...tut tut etc" if it's a woman at the wheel. All the while, despite the chest puffing and strutting, no physical help will be offered.

As A and I walked up the hill home, I had a good inward chuckle about the gaggle of people at the bottom, attacking the poor lady in her car like a leftover lump of Hovis. I would have offered to help her myself, but there were just too many of them. She's probably still out there now...