The whole world, it loves you, if you're a chic chameleon
Intersecting circles, she could hang with anyone
But when conducting business, she would lie about where she's from,
Saying, "Life is how it is, not how it was."
- Conor Oberst, "Classic Cars"
Living in a new place, I've introduced myself at least a dozen times in a dozen different ways in the past couple days. It is always so stressful for me, and I can't figure out why. I joke with Matt that I need to practice with him, but then the next time an opportunity for an introduction comes around, my mind goes blank and I curse myself for not actually practicing with him. Not like that would help, because the audience is always different, which means you need to give an audience appropriate answer, and in a room full of outdoorsy, camping people it's probably not the best idea to share that my favorite thing to do is eat white cheddar popcorn. The question is invariably the same, and I invariably have different, wrong answers every. single. time. "What do you like to do for fun?" The answer seems to come easily for some, but every time I hear that question my palms start to sweat and I start stuttering like a 13-year-old in speech class.
Fun? What is that? Do I have fun? Is that the same as spare time? Do I have spare time? What do I do when I'm not working or studying? Do I do anything? Is this the same as something I'm passionate about? What am I passionate about? Can anyone else answer this for me? Is this a personal crisis? Am I have an existential moment here?
The other day the person behind me started introducing someone else. When she said that the person's favorite thing to do was sleep, I turned around to share a "same here!" look, but then realized she was talking about her 4-month-old baby. That was embarrassing.
This is no small thing, either. This is a tryout. You have exactly ten seconds to wow everyone with your amazing interests and talents, and from there people will decide to become friends with you if they didn't already decide to do so based on your hair, face, or clothes. Don't act like this isn't a big deal. This is a big freaking deal. And you have one shot.
I'm also a slight exaggerator.
While commiserating with a friend who has already been through this a few times (though, I'm not sure why I chose her to talk to about it -- she is the most beautiful, friendly, positive, outgoing person I've ever met and she probably has scores of people literally waiting in line to be her friend), she told me to just be mysterious. Okay, about that. I once dated a boy who always told me how elusive and mysterious I was. Maybe it was the hair that always fell in my eyes, but there was something about me that he just couldn't figure out and lucky for me it drove him insane (because that's what we all want to do to our boyfriends, drive them crazy, right?). In case you can't tell, that relationship didn't work out. Anyway, while talking in a group about "being an open book," I was still riding a high from driving that boy mad when I said, "I like being elusive! I like having my own secrets!" Without skipping a beat, a person in the group who had probably never even attempted a one-on-one conversation with me before quickly piped in, "Well, actually, word on the street is that you're bitter and hard to talk to." What the... ha!
I guess I'm off to practice articulating what I like to do for fun, in a way that is not bitter, but bubbly, and somehow also mysterious. Wish me luck.
Here are some pictures from our first few days in Washington. It is a beautiful place.
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| sunset from the space needle in seattle |
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| picking raspberries, my new favorite hobby |
