ramblings from the shy one

You know what I hate? I hate assumptions. That because I’m quiet and maybe a little shy and so I’m obviously a rude you-know-what. Today my firm bought everyone lunch at a very ritzy club for administrative professionals week. (I’ve also gotten free catered breakfast, a target gift card and there’s still 2 days left this week! Go law firm, go!) I tend to keep to myself in my office for lot of reasons: I’m younger than almost everyone which means I can’t discuss my grandchildren and social security benefits and golf and power-walking in my step-ups. I refuse to partake in office drama (you should see me when these ladies start to run their mouths. I am the very best at not saying a word and not engaging in any wayshapeorform with that nonsense. Good news: drama doesn’t end when you’re 50 and all grown up! and you want to know something so ridic? my boss, on my review EVEN SAID that i don't partake in the petty drama and i am never associated with that noise. um, duh. thanks for noticing.). Therefore I don’t have very many friends. And I’m okay with that because it’s work and my work life and social life don’t need to overlap. It’s not life or death. But today I sat with several other people at lunch (and can we talk about the fact that I went above and beyond my comfort zone and even went to the luncheon?!) and we talked about dogs and our pets and the ability to have chickens in town now (um, gross. Except I still want a pig, so there’s that) and how delicious the prime rib was (right?! Prime rib, shrimp, chicken, open bar. I mean, really.) and how ridiculous the federal building is and how federal employees get heated parking and blah blah blah and I think I maybe said 3 words. I am the opposite of the type of person who jumps into a conversation with two thousand things to say. I’m the opposite of the type of person who knows someone who has this dog and that dog and it sheds too much for their taste but it’s a fine animal otherwise, and who has free-range chickens in their backyard shed and a mean old hen whose eggs are the best if you can get to them and whose cousin knows someone who knows someone who works in the federal building and why yes, they do indeed have heated parking.

That’s not me. In fact, I have a sharpei/Brittany spaniel dog and I bet you don’t. I bet you’ve never even seen one. My best friend in high school has a St. Bernard, two in fact, and they’re fine dogs except for the drool. I could do without the drool. My grandma had chickens when I was growing up, but I was always scared of them and the damp little coop she kept them in. I don’t know anyone who works in the federal building but my dad works for the city and he rides his bike to work every morning because he’s intense and his truck gets 2 miles to the gallon or something fancy like that and so he has heated parking too because he parks his bike in his heated office.

So there.

But the point is, I’m not the type of person who wants to tell everyone everything. But maybe I'd tell you something if you asked me, even with my social skills that equal those of a hermit crab. If you asked me what kind of dog I have, I wouldn’t sit there are stare at you with my blue eyes fixed on your mouth (because if you asked I have to read lips because I do) and my mouth gaping open like my brain has suddenly evaporated into thin air. I would tell you. But it’s against my entire being to jump head first into a conversation that has nothing to do with my best friend from five years ago and her dogs and my dad’s bike in his office and my grandma’s dead chickens just because I have nothing to say so I’m going to say everything.

I’m shy and I’m quite. I like to listen and I will only give you advice if you ask and I feel incredibly comfortable around you. I don’t share myself with a lot of people. This person I portray on my blog may or may not be who I am in real life depending on how well you know me. I will tell you what you ask me. I will not push my memories and my experiences and my friends and my family and stories about all of these things into your face because it’s not relevant. I’ll be quiet and I will let you speak and I will listen and that is how I will be. Because that is who I am.

In other news, my entire dream was in sign language last night. I spent two weeks in a deaf school and suddenly I’m fluent in ASL five years later? I’m totally okay with that.