June 12, 2001
Hermiting
It seems like I'm writing entries earlier and earlier lately -- ironic, since I can't do anything with them until I get home. It makes me crazy, but there isn't anything I can do, apparently. The latest version of WS-FTP doesn't want to upload whole files, so until the makers decide to fix that feature, I can't use that program, and straight Windows FTP won't work behind my firewall here, or something. I can't figure that one out. I hate that. I hate being hobbled. If my computer is capable of a task, it drives me absolutely bonkers if I can't perform that task, for whatever reason. Bleah.
Last night was apparently my night to stay away from the computer, and spend all my time on the phone instead. This is not a bad thing. After spending a good hour or so on the phone with Brand, I spent another good hour or so on the phone with Dawn and Jason (and Justin -- who has grown into a healthy, noisy little two-and-a-half month old). It's odd, considering how much of an absolute freak I used to be about the phone, how seldom I really talk to people anymore -- comparatively, at least. That's a little sad, too, considering how much more comfortable I am talking there as opposed to any other medium. Well, not exactly true. I'm most comfortable communicating via written word, but sometimes that's just inadequate. Sometimes you just need to hear a voice.
When I think about how I am, I can easily see how so many sci-fi writers envisioned a future where no one left their homes or ever communicated face to face. The temptation is there, for me at least, to stay physically isolated. Don't get me wrong. I don't think anything will ever completely replace sitting around or hanging out with friends face to face, but if I could, I'd work from home -- and if I did, I would probably almost never leave the house.
Well, except to game. And maybe go to the movies.
Is that sad? It sounds like it, doesn't it? Over the past several years, I've been increasingly reluctant to have actual face to face conversations with people I don't know. I've somehow turned into an introvert. Typical of introverts, I'm really outgoing when I'm in a situation that makes me comfortable. Case in point: last week I went to a full moon ritual hosted by some friends of Jo's. Two years ago I would have been outgoing as all get out in such a situation. I was a little shocked at how shy I was. Before the ritual started, in fact, when people were sitting around talking, I wanted to sink into the couch and disappear. Not only didn't I know more than a handful of people, but I couldn't think of a single thing to say to anyone sitting near me. It was awful. After the ritual, of course, was a completely different story. I felt much more comfortable, and by the end of the night I was singing Tom Smith and Tom Lehrer songs at the top of my lungs to whoever would listen.
The same thing happened to me in California. I didn't think I was acting terribly shy, although there was definitely some uncertainty at first. Finally after three days or so, Brand said something obnoxious to me, and I think I laughed, told him to fuck off, and threw a beanie baby spider at him and hit him in the face. That's when he laughed and said, "There you are! I was wondering where'd you been all week!" Apparently, I was being far more reserved than I'd realized. (On a completely unrelated note, my language completely deteriorated in California. I think I said "fuck" more in one week than in the previous six months combined. The good folks of Wicked Ink were a very bad influence on me! It was very liberating.)
This is another case of me completely having to rethink my image of myself. I don't want to be a "shy" person. I suppose the only way to avoid it is to quit being such a hermit.
Posted by Lisa at June 12, 2001 09:44 AM
