I learned a few things about myself this past weekend. Things I already knew, but that became blaringly obvious to me when faced with the most uncomfortable situation I could ever be faced with, and that was staying with a houseful of nine other girls – half of whom I didn’t know all that well – over the period of four nights. It’s not that I really had anything against anyone. I mean, sure there were some who were, frankly, annoying and whose incessant loudness I could’ve done without. But, you know, when you get that many people together – especially all females – there is bound to be tension between a few. I commend us, though. We made it to Monday without drawing blood, which is always good. But it reminded me just how much of an introvert I am. It reminded me that no matter how outgoing and extroverted I seem at work around regular customers and co-workers I love, I’m still reserved at heart; I draw into myself.
1. First of all, I am waaaaay more young-spinsterish than I thought I was. I mean, sure, I’m traditional and want to wait until marriage before having sex (let’s just say I take it way more seriously than this crowd did), but I found myself enormously uncomfortable with the way some of the girls talked about sex. And it’s not that I’ve been so sheltered that I’ve never heard it before (I mean, hello, I do watch Sex and the City), but maybe it was just because it was with girls around my age, give or take a few years, who acted in the same manner but spoke much less classy about it. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not judging them. Everyone has the free will to go about their business in whatever fashion they choose. That’s our God-given gift. It was just…different for me. I don’t know. At one point, one of them told me I needed to get drunk the next time we went out and pinch a guy’s butt. I ended up correcting someone’s grammar. They told me I wasn’t drunk enough if I was still correcting grammar. Actually, I wasn’t drunk at all, but we won’t tell them that.
2. Secondly, I just can’t handle that much estrogen in the same house five days in a row. It’s maddening. Five or six? Okay. But ten of us? I just remember last June when we went to Florida it was seven of us in one house, but three of the inhabitants were guys, and that seemed like a nice balance to me. Things were less of a big deal, I enjoyed myself more, and when we went to City Walk I actually got my groove thing on. This time, I just wasn’t feeling it. I expected to waltz into The Red Room, my red-orange Old Navy dress floating behind me in the wind, strut onto the dance floor in my four inch wedges, and start working it out to LMFAO, but no. No such thing happened this time. Although, we did run into a group of Medieval characters, such as Robin Hood (who was totally handsome and had amazing blue eyes), Prince Charming, and Knight in Shining Armor (wh0 had the best pick up line – “I have no charms, I’m a knight with no sword”), and a cast of other characters whose identities I was unsure of. Ironically, they were there for a bachelor party.
3. Thirdly, the bar scene is apparently not for me. And maybe it was just because of the large group I was with, but I felt a lot less secure when we went downtown to the Bliss. Our group had grown and people got way more crazy than they did at City Walk. There was a hooka involved (and I have no idea if I’m spelling that right), where it looks like a bong but really you’re just smoking flavored tobacco and serum. I took a “drag,” we’ll call it, before I knew it was really tobacco, and nearly choked myself to death. Apparently I’m a bad smoker. That’s good to know. I will never do it again. But it was that, and the kissing on random guys (not me, mind you), and the lap dancing (again, not me), that made me feel totally out of my element and uncomfortable the whole time. I felt so nervous and out of place and quite frankly, like a loser. I could tell I was looking uptight and struggled between wondering if I should just get a grip and let loose or if I was totally in my right mind to feel so nervous. I don’t know. I have a bad habit of getting nervous about things that aren’t a big deal. And it’s not like I’m Miley Cyrus or anything. I didn’t even smoke a real bong. The paparazzi were hardly breaking down the windows to get pictures of me going crazy in Orlando. But again. I struggled the whole weekend with my Christian identity because of these things. Which makes me think of something else, but that’s for a totally different blog post, because it would just take too long. I’m telling you this so you’ll remind me to write about it. Just kidding. Sort of.
4. When girls started leaving for home on day three and the estrogen was peeling out of the atmosphere, I started to feel a lot more calm and comfortable in my surroundings. There were a few girls whose personalities I liked who I actually started having conversations with the last day and it became clear to me that I just don’t do well at all in large groups. I’ve been accused of being anti-social before, and maybe I am, but I don’t really mean to be. At least not to be rude or snobbish. It’s just that I’m reserved, a true to form introvert, and I decided at the end of our stay in Florida that, while I need to be more assertive and less uptight, I also shouldn’t have to make apologies for being introverted. It’s just who I am. It’s how I was created, and I’m getting tired of having to feel bad about it. Yes, there are times when I’m comfortable in my surroundings that I let loose and act like a crazy person, but this weekend, as you’ve read above, was clearly not one of those times – at least not until the last couple of days, and of course on the first day when our group was smaller. And, okay, maybe I can be a little stuck up and snobbish, but I don’t throw it out there in people’s faces. It takes me a while to work out my thoughts, and this weekend was a lot to work out in my head. Maybe I think too much, maybe I’m not thinking in the right way. Who knows? But it’s a process, and I’m learning to deal with it.
I really can’t believe I just told you all that.
