Happy

I have woken up feeling happy more than once this week. The exciting thing is that it wasn't that forced "I'm going to face the world and fake it 'till I make it" happy, or the mischevious "I'm ready to cause some trouble" kind of happy. It was a genuine sense of "I'm ok with my life" excitement that I haven't experienced for at least 16 months. It has been nice to get reacquanited with this part of me. I'm not as worried about offending people or what they will think of me. It's nice... and relaxing... and fun... I just hope this feeling stays for a good, long while.

Social Awkwardness

Yesterday Janet hosted a dinner for people from her ward and friends and such. As always, the food was spectacular and a good time was had by most. I say most because I had several moments of uncomfortableness. I have gone on one date with Janet's hometeacher Mike (who has been code named Cuatro), and had a non-descript time, which is not a good time or a bad time, it was simply that we passed time in polite but unmemorable conversation. For me it was disappointing because good stories do not come from bland dates.

 So what happened to make me uncomfortable, complete and total social awkwardness. I shall tell you! I was sitting with Melinda and a group of her friends on blanket arranged like so.

I was facing into the circle so I could see everyone because I don't like not seeing people when I talk to them. We were having a fantastic conversation about life and exectations and disappointment when Mike came over and crouched down in my blind spot like so.

It was a horrible position. I had to turn my head more than 45 degrees to see him, and it was a painful position to hold for any period of time, and since we were in the middle of sharing our thoughts it was a bad time for him to expect my attention. So I said "Hi" but continued in my conversation. He crouched there for a few minutes, saying little and then walked away before there was a lull in the topic. After he had moved away Melinda, who had a clear view of him, commented about how dissappointed he looked about things. Of course I felt a pang of regret that he felt bad, but had no interest in doing anything to give him hope that we could have a relationship. (Believe me, he's not the one for me...)

But what really went wrong? First was his seating selection. He sat "next" to me but not within my field of vision. This required me to end eye contact with everyone except him if I was look at him as I spoke to him. For it to be comfortable, I would have had to turn my body around completely and then turn my back on the people I was already talking to. He could have avoided this if he had either sat closer to Melinda so he would be in my line of sight or sat by Kris so he would be directly across from me. But he didn't do that, did he...

Second, he stayed outside of the conversation, giving the appearance that he wanted to separate me from the herd so to speak. I found this threatening because in my mind he wanted to cut me off from one conversation and monopolize me in a conversation with only him, which would have been the typical polite blandness I so detest. He didn't stay long enough to introduce himself or be introduced, and made a few comments of agreement before he wandered off dejected.

It was awful and will probably haunt me for a while more, but hopefully someone can learn from my experience... I just don't know what they'd learn...

Camping vs. Sleeping in Tents

For years I have been reading LDSMingle profiles of men who say they enjoy camping. Until this week, I didn't realize what that meant. Camping is not simply sleeping in a tent, it's the process of packing up stuff to go into the wilderness and then stay at a campsite and do campy things. I don't think I had ever done this until Girls Camp this year, and I don't like it.

What have I done my whole life? I have slept in tents at campgrounds near places of interest. For example I slept in a tent in the Black Hills and from there explored Jewel Cave, Mt. Rushmore, Wind Cave, the Mammoth Dig Site and a variety of other places. I've slept in a tent at Gettysburg and toured the battle field. I've slept in tents across the state of Wisconsin and toured places of historic interest along with a few tourist traps and drooled outside a bakery I never ate any delicious pastries from.

I am not opposed to sleeping in a tent, but the idea of staying near the tent the entire time with breaks to go on hikes and let nature soak into my soul is just not my idea of a good time. I'm glad I understand the difference, it makes me a better educated Internet dater... Yay me...

A Guilty Pleasure or is it Happiness in Purest Form?

Last night I stayed up until 3:00AM reading a book. It has been ages since I did that, and I didn't even know I missed it. When I was young, summer was for reading, and I can remember sitting in the mulberry trees with a book for long spans of time. 

I have missed that part of me. In Taiwan I remember rejoicing in typhoons that seemed to be scheduled in conjunction with Harry Potter book release dates just for me. Typhoon days allowed my new book to consume every minute of my time without having a distraction like work pull me away. The fact that I have learned to stop reading in order to work is a big step for me since I can remember turning in semi-finished assignments in elementary school just to get back to a good book.

I've imprisoned that part of me somewhere deep sometime along the way. I was always too unscheduled for my own good and spent life lost in typed pages. But look how far I've come! I have spent most of the summer at my desk diligently working through an anthropology class and planning expeditions and working on girls camp. All are things I do well, but when I don't have moments planned, I avoid books because I know that once distracted I don't get back on track until the last word is read.

That is what happened last night at 8:00PM when I sat down to read for only a few minutes before bed like a responsible adult. I was already disobeying my own direct orders of "only read fun books on Sunday," a plan contrived to keep me on track and productive. But as my relationship with the characters of These is my Words developed and I got wrapped up their hopes and dreams and sorrows and I developed my own desires for their outcomes I couldn't pull myself away until I simply couldn't see the words and had to rest my eyes.

I woke up four short hours later with the characters and their situations on my mind, so I picked that book back up and finished those last 50 pages. After I cried over the beautiful conclusion and thought about how that story relates to my story and the pieces of me I see in the characters I thought, "A book that sucks you in to the point where you miss it when you have to pause for such menial tasks as eating is one of the greatest joys in life." I have missed that kind of joy for what seems ages, and I'm so glad I got to experience it again in spite of what might have been the more responsible decision.