My Socks Don't Match!

How much time do you spend on laundry? Probably more than you would like. How much time do you spend matching socks? If all of your socks are the same, maybe not much. But if you have many different patterned socks the task can become time consuming.

I've recently decided to stop wasting so much time worrying about things like matching socks. Sure, it may be a little awkward, but life is too short to waste time worrying about something making you feel uncomfortable.

Sometimes three little words can make you uncomfortable: "I love you."

Do you remember the first time you said it to a boyfriend or girlfriend? Do you remember how terrified you were? It's because the words hold a lot more meaning than their mere eight letters would suggest.

Some families say it more often than others. Just like some families are more touchy-feely, or "huggy" than others. The thing is, life is too short to pass up the opportunity to say "I love you," to someone you really care about, whether by word or deed. Even if it's awkward.

Several years ago I felt impressed to go and visit my Aunt Wanda in the hospital. I was living in Little Rock at the time, and Oklahoma City was a simple weekend trip. While I did stay with my grandparents, the purpose of the visit really was my aunt. I enjoyed spending that time with her, even though it was a bit odd to go for the express purpose of seeing her. I was so glad later that I did it. It was the last time I saw her before she died.

The last time I saw my grandfather he was outside talking with some of the family. I felt too awkward to interrupt and say goodbye, so I just waved. We left on our trip back home, and I never saw him again. I wish now that I had overridden my feelings of discomfort and given him one last hug and said "I love you." But I can't change it now.

It makes me so glad that the night that Daddy passed that I got to say "I love you," one last time. I'm glad for the opportunities that I had and didn't pass up during his illness--to sing for him, sit with him, pray for him. I don't have regrets for anything I did, even if it made me uncomfortable at the time.

I try to be more mindful now to say "I love you." I never know when my last opportunity will be, and I don't want to neglect it. Feeling awkward over it is such a waste, and the regret really isn't worth it.

So if you catch me wearing mismatching socks, no, I haven't reached a new level of harried housewife. I'm just choosing to focus my energies on things of slightly more significance in the big scheme of things. Which would you regret more? Missing your last opportunity to say "I love you," or wearing mismatching socks?

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I Hugged a Stranger

I was hugged today by a stranger today. And I was OK with it. I participated in the hug, even. Bizarre, I know. I'm usually very reserved with strangers, but let me back up.

I was on my way home from the wonderful experience that is Walmart the week before Christmas and I decided to stop by a little health food store that I've noticed. The owner is a lady in her 70s that looks and acts like she's in her 50s. Seriously. I was shocked when she told me how old she was.

What drew me into the store was the advertisement for coffee and tea on the window. I was hoping for a local source for loose-leaf tea that wasn't Lipton. Alas, no such luck, but I did find an hour long conversation that had me leaving feeling better about the world and just generally encouraged.

This is what makes the idea that introverts are shy so ridiculous. I'm not shy. Shy and introverted are not even close to the same thing. I was fascinated by this new person that answered my questions with far more information than most people would desire. I'm not most people, so hearing about the history of homeopathy made me feel almost as excited about a conversation about physics with my dad.

The next thing I knew I was sharing some of my personal beliefs with her, then she's telling me about a motorcycle accident she had had. Somewhere around the point in the conversation where we were discussing church doctrines being Biblically based I started feeling like I wanted to hug her before I left. There was a connection there that I wanted to affirm physically I guess.

I was in a quandary on how to do it, though. I am not naturally touchy-feely with virtual strangers. The lady dispelled the awkwardness I felt when she initiated the hug herself. It was nice, and it seems strange to me now that it did. This is not a normal reaction for me. It felt natural at the time, though, so I feel that it was the right thing.

I doubt this will become a habit, though. It's much easier to just smile at strangers. It's less exhausting, too. As much as I enjoyed our conversation, I needed some down-time to process afterward. So I had some coffee and a book like a good little introvert.


Want to read more about my introverted misadventures?
Check out these posts:

Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fonder
Talking To Myself
Shhhh...I'm Introverting

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Distance Makes The Heart Grow Fonder

I love my friends. Really I do. It's probably easier to tell when I am actually with them, though. Since most of my friends live at a distance from me, you would think that I talk with them on the phone, or text to keep in touch. I'll be honest. I don't. Not even my best friends will override my intense dislike of phone calls. The most they might get is a text. Usually not even that.

Fortunately, they don't seem to mind. We just wait until we are back together and then spend the next eight hours catching up on everything. Let me tell you, talking for that long will wear your voice out.

It does make me wonder, though. I know that I myself am a low-maintenance friend. I don't require a great deal of time and effort to feel secure that we are still friends. What I question is if I somehow managed to collect a circle of friends that are the same way, or if this is maybe not as unusual as I might have once thought. Maybe it's a combination of the two factors.

Or maybe these friends feel that I am extremely fickle and are simply far too polite to complain about my apparent neglect.

I used to email a couple of good friends on a fairly regular basis. This was back when people would actually print out emails to save them. I probably still have them in a folder somewhere among my childhood things. While I don't feel quite as close to one of these friends due to no longer keeping in constant contact, I still feel that old bond, and were she to suddenly call or want to hang out, I'd be all over it. After I got over my anxiety from an unexpected phone call, that is.

Email seems to have gone out of fashion, though. Instead we have texting and Facebook. I'm finding Facebook more and more impersonal, and I don't really think I like it. I've gotten to the point that I share very few pictures and even fewer statuses updating my friends about my life. I have been using it to post links to the blog, though. Maybe that will satisfy someone.

The one and only reason I can come up with for why I do not text my friends--unless I don't have their phone number--is that I am terrified that I will text at an inconvenient time. I realize, logically, that that is exactly what texting is for. They can read and reply later if I send at an inconvenient time. But there you have it. I'm paralyzed because I don't want to make someone else uncomfortable. I really need to work on that.

So...more social anxiety from me, and I think I've said enough for now about my love/hate relationship with communicating via cellphone.


Want to read more about my introverted misadventures?
Check out these posts:

I Hugged a Stranger
Talking To Myself
Shhhh...I'm Introverting

Walking and Talking

This post is dedicated to my first best friend, Zachery.

I remember sandy blonde hair.

I remember your smile. 

I think your eyes were blue,

But maybe they were gray.

What does a five-year-old notice?

I remember just walking around the playground. 

Talking. 

We must have done that a lot.

What did we talk about?

I wish I could remember that. 

We must have been a strange pair. 

I don't remember playing with the other children. 

Just the two of us walking. 

And talking.

You were my first best friend. 

I still think about you sometimes.

It's been twenty years.

I wonder how things might have been different.

I don't remember how I reacted to the news. 

I remember going to the visitation.

I remember your mother.

I remember driving by the cross at the intersection. 

Every day on the way to school.

It's still there.

It still looks nice. 

Sometimes there's a teddy bear. 

Sometimes there's flowers.

I wonder how you would react to me now.

I got to grow up.

I have a little boy of my own. 

I heard you had a little brother.

He'd be older than you now.

Does that make you feel weird?

No. You're probably just laughing about it.

I look forward to seeing you again. 

I'm sure you've already found the best places to just walk.

We have a lot to talk about.