Home and Quietish
Dec. 13th, 2009 08:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
greenstormDressers are set up, ratties are home (letting everyone settle before I try intros). I haven't figured out the dinner thing yet, but I think I can be lazy and let Angus figure it out for me when he comes home.
I've been hanging out with people this weekend, and I'm ambivalent but cautiously positive about the experience. I'm not a group person, especially not a loud person. I like particular people, generally small-group or one-on-one, and I like conversation. More and more my social sphere has drifted away from that sort of event and into other things I either don't like or prefer not to do in a group - group video-game playing, drinking, eating or dancing in loud spaces, passively watching [theatre, movies, et], playing board or card games. I will do some of these things in order to converse, but it's definitely a payment for the conversation I come for. I like the occasional curling-up-watching-games evening (there was a game today called, um, Brutal Legend that was quite something) but I live for those moments when you're sitting there with someone, talking, and suddenly realise either that the world is more novel and diverse than you had imagined it could be or conversely that there are people similar to you in ways that it has never occurred to you that people could be similar.
By (nature or nurture) I have a strong distrust of people. I am reasonably dependent on my friends, etc, but it just doesn't occur to me that any sort of association might be, not just okay, but pleasurable. In individual cases I might come to expect something enjoyable from contact with someone but that's the exception instead of the rule. If I don't see a particular person for awhile, the power of that exception fades in my mind. My most common feeling towards spending time with someone I don't see often is a sense of obligation/duty sometimes overlaid with irritation. Frequently this is why I turn down social events; I need to prove to myself that I have the freedom to do so and I don't anticipate enjoying them (I enjoy them less often when burnt out or busy, hm).
I don't know where I'm going with this. I guess I've been surprised by that feeling of actually liking another human being several times this weekend, and I'm, um, surprised? I'm also pretty happy about it. I hate feeling like the troll in the cave.
I wonder what percentage of this comes from the end of blood week?
Suddenly so tired and headachy. Boy is almost home with food. I am so well cared for.
My brain contains this currently:
I've been hanging out with people this weekend, and I'm ambivalent but cautiously positive about the experience. I'm not a group person, especially not a loud person. I like particular people, generally small-group or one-on-one, and I like conversation. More and more my social sphere has drifted away from that sort of event and into other things I either don't like or prefer not to do in a group - group video-game playing, drinking, eating or dancing in loud spaces, passively watching [theatre, movies, et], playing board or card games. I will do some of these things in order to converse, but it's definitely a payment for the conversation I come for. I like the occasional curling-up-watching-games evening (there was a game today called, um, Brutal Legend that was quite something) but I live for those moments when you're sitting there with someone, talking, and suddenly realise either that the world is more novel and diverse than you had imagined it could be or conversely that there are people similar to you in ways that it has never occurred to you that people could be similar.
By (nature or nurture) I have a strong distrust of people. I am reasonably dependent on my friends, etc, but it just doesn't occur to me that any sort of association might be, not just okay, but pleasurable. In individual cases I might come to expect something enjoyable from contact with someone but that's the exception instead of the rule. If I don't see a particular person for awhile, the power of that exception fades in my mind. My most common feeling towards spending time with someone I don't see often is a sense of obligation/duty sometimes overlaid with irritation. Frequently this is why I turn down social events; I need to prove to myself that I have the freedom to do so and I don't anticipate enjoying them (I enjoy them less often when burnt out or busy, hm).
I don't know where I'm going with this. I guess I've been surprised by that feeling of actually liking another human being several times this weekend, and I'm, um, surprised? I'm also pretty happy about it. I hate feeling like the troll in the cave.
I wonder what percentage of this comes from the end of blood week?
Suddenly so tired and headachy. Boy is almost home with food. I am so well cared for.
My brain contains this currently:
