21st century hermit

I have just had a couple of weeks off work and it's disturbing how easily the days went by without me doing very much with them at all. I had planned to do all sorts of things - shopping, movies, visit friends, maybe go to an art gallery or museum - but I did barely anything besides read, surf the net and watch television. I joke about becoming a hermit, but I really am getting dangerously close to it. I blame the internet, it's given me much less reason to leave the house. As well as having the ability to download just about anything and keep in touch with just about anyone, I have also discovered the joy of buying most things online. Apart from being able to find exactly what I want without traipsing from store to store, it works for me because I am far too susceptible to suggestions from smooth talking sales people, who can easily convince me to spend more money than I had planned to or upgrade to a bigger and better whatever. I'm not assertive enough to stand my ground, and I very often come home having spent way more money than I intended on something that wasn't really what I wanted in the first place. The internet saves me from all that, and I am very good at tracking down the best deals, but it also means I have little excuse for a shopping trip anymore. And I find more and more that I just can't be arsed doing anything that takes any sort of effort. I won't go anywhere unless I know I can drive there and park easily. I'm tired of going to mediocre restaurants that require me to spend 20 minutes driving around in circles, only to still park 15 minutes walk away from where I'm going, and having to pay for the privilege. My friends know if they choose restaurants in certain suburbs then they have to be prepared to listen to me bitch and moan for 20 minutes about how hard it was to park when I finally get there. (It's a wonder I have any friends at all really, but they're surprisingly good natured about it.) And I'm glad I travelled a fair bit in my twenties, because it wouldn't happen now. As much as I'd love to see more of the world, all that planning and packing and being away from the comfortable familiarity of home puts me right off the idea. I recently caught myself saying that I can't be bothered going to concerts anymore when they're so expensive and I could just buy a CD for a fraction of the price and listen to it as often as I like - because as well as being a near-hermit, I'm also apparently turning into my parents. 

Is it wrong not to always be glad?

I am not very good at being cheerful. Pessimism comes naturally to me, and it feels wrong not to be worrying about something. Expecting the worst means I’m often pleasantly surprised, even if I have wasted a lot of time and energy worrying unnecessarily. And there’s a certain joy to be had in wallowing in misery from time to time. So many wonderfully sad songs are made for just such occasions, it seems a shame to waste them. I would even go so far as to say I enjoy being melancholy, it feels normal to me, being happy for no good reason just doesn’t feel right. I do suspect this is one of those things that makes me a bit of a freak, but that’s okay.

I try not to inflict my moods on others if I can help it, and I know there are times when I have to just put on a happy face whether I feel it or not. I appreciate a kind word when I’m really feeling down, and being around people who are genuinely happy can be infectious. It’s just that some days I seem to be surrounded by relentlessly cheerful people who feel it’s their mission to cheer me up, whether I need it or not. Maybe I am too stuck in my happily miserable state, but surely it’s not normal to be happy all the time? Sure happiness is great, but pretending to be happy when you’re not doesn’t actually make you happy, does it? I know it’s never worked for me, anyway. I certainly don’t begrudge the optimists, I even admire their ability to always look on the bright side, I just feel more comfortable over here on the dark side. This is just my version of cheerful, and I’m very happy with it.

Definately not excellant spelling

I recently discovered that I have been misspelling excellent, I assume for as long as I've been writing it. I have no idea how I didn't know this sooner, but I'm horrified to think I've been making such a basic spelling mistake! I used to have the same problem with definitely, I would stop and think about the correct spelling every time, knowing it was either -ately or -itely, but for the life of me I couldn't get the right one into my head, and would almost always guess incorrectly. It was The Office that cured me of that particular mistake, now whenever I need to write it I get Finchy in my head saying "defin-ately" and I know that's wrong, because everything that comes out of Finchy's mouth is wrong. I am usually incredibly anal about these things, I'm constantly using Google to check for possible spelling mistakes, and I can't even text in short-hand. I take some comfort in knowing I am not alone in making these simple mistakes, a quick Google search brings up 12, 300, 000 results for "definately" and 11, 200, 000 for "excellant". Now I'm paranoid about what other basic spelling mistakes I've been making, and I don't even want to think about grammar, I barely know a verb from an adjective, I just try to get the words in the right order and hope that it makes sense.

And Now for Something Completely Different

Well, maybe not completely different, but a bit of a departure from the usual ranty blog, anyway. I’ve been feeling a bit inspired lately by the 1000 Awesome Things blog. It’s a nice reminder that while a lot of things suck, there are also a lot of things that don’t. And of course like sucking, everyone’s version of awesome is going to be different. So, even though positivity doesn’t come naturally to me, and I do oddly enjoy writing about my faults and issues, it’s been nice to concentrate on some of the things that make me happy, too:

Autumn. My favourite time of the year; beautiful sunshiny days and cool nights. Yesterday I even got my winter woolies out, which was ridiculously exciting. And it’s wonderfully ironic that while I love the arrival of official hibernating weather, I’m also much more inclined to spend time outdoors in autumn and winter.

Kindred spirits. There’s a particular kind of comfort around those people who just “get” you. The ones who never make you feel judged or criticised. Who’ll patiently listen to you whinge about the most ridiculous things and get worked up right along with you. The ones you might not see for ages, but will fall back into the same comfortable conversations with like you’d spoken to them yesterday. The ones you can laugh with until your stomach aches and you’re genuinely afraid you’re going to wet yourself. The ones you just feel lucky to know at all.

Watching Toy Story with my nephew. Kids know how to really enjoy things, don’t they? It’ doesn’t matter that he’s seen it dozens of times, and it doesn’t matter that he knows the dialogue by heart. He still loves every minute of it. He gets excited and laughs uproariously, and it’s impossible not to love it along with him.

Coming home. Just walking in the door makes me feel safe and comfortable, in a way that I never really feel anywhere else. I’ve only recently learned to appreciate just how lucky I am to have that. No matter what’s happened elsewhere, how crap my day may have been or how bad I might be feeling, coming home always makes me feel better, even if it‘s only because I can finally be miserable in peace.

The internet. I feel like this goes without saying, seeing as this is where we are, but I bloody love the internet! I tried to fight it for a long time, feeling like I was unreasonably addicted and I should be spending my time and money more wisely, but you know what? I don’t care anymore. It’s entertaining, informative and social - particularly since it allows me to socialise without leaving the house. Or changing out of my pyjamas, even. I turn it on first thing in the morning and turn it off last thing at night. Sometimes I don’t even bother to turn it off at all. I barely remember what life was like without it, but it definitely wasn’t as good.

See, now writing that did actually make me feel happier! Although now I’m a little worried that it comes across as even more self-indulgent than usual. Which is also good in an odd sort of way, seeing as too much positivity makes me nervous. Awesome.

The Cynical Optimist

For a long time I considered myself a pessimist, or I guess I really just assumed I was. It seemed to suit my quiet, outwardly miserable and occasionally surly nature. It’s only in the last few years that I’ve come to realise I’m not really a pessimist at all. I rarely expect the worst, and I’m often hopeful of a positive outcome. I think people are basically good, even when they annoy the hell out of me. I don’t know that the glass is necessarily half-full, but I don’t think it’s half-empty, either. It can be either, depending on the situation and the liquid involved; sometimes half is more than enough. I am, however, often accused of being a cynic. Cynical is bad. It’s negative. We like positive. Positive is good. Even if you have to fake it. So I don’t blindly accept things, or people, at face value. I don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing, particularly when you consider how many people do believe in “faking it“. Whatever “it” is. Just because I don’t immediately jump on a bandwagon doesn’t mean I don‘t like the bandwagon, it just means I feel that I need proof and personal experience before making a final decision about it. If that makes me a cynic then I’m okay with that. However I do understand that it’s not always much fun to be around, and I try to keep it to a minimum whenever I can. No one likes a killjoy, and it’s no fun to burst someone’s bubble.

Here’s the thing that drives my cynicism, and I know not everyone is going to agree, but I’m going to put it out there anyway: a lot of things suck. They do. Just because we don’t necessarily agree on what sucks and what doesn’t, doesn’t mean there isn’t a lot of sucking going on. It's just that my suck might be someone else’s awesome, and vice-versa. And you know what else? There’s a lot of bullshit out there. A LOT. You only have to spend five minutes on the internet to know that. Unfortunately I do believe that I am burdened with an excellent bullshit meter. I can smell it coming from a mile away. I say unfortunately because I don’t necessarily like that about myself. Sometimes it’s nice just to believe something because it makes you feel good instead of seeing it for what it really is. A little delusion can be lovely. Now, again, just because I think something is bullshit doesn’t mean that I think everyone should agree. I am a big believer in live and let live. Or suck and let suck, if you prefer. I don’t want everyone to think like me or like what I like. I love that we’re different. I appreciate the cheery, happy, non-cynical people (even if I don’t necessarily want to spend too much time around them) as much as I enjoy being around my fellow cynics. We work in harmony and balance each other out. And if that’s not positive and optimistic then I don’t know what is.

Heading in the Right (or Wrong) Direction

I have no sense of direction. This is not just a throw away statement that means I’m not very good at reading maps or something - I genuinely lack a sense of direction. You know what else? I also have trouble telling left from right. That’s right, I’m admitting it. In public. One of those no brainer things that any five year old can master and I struggle with it. I’m not too bad with my own left or right, although I do have to think about it for a second - I just remind myself that the hand I write with is my right. (Oh God, writing it down makes me sound even more stupid than I thought!) I can usually manage that, but I dread people saying things like “move to my right”. Huh? I have trouble telling my own left from right, how am I supposed to figure out someone else’s?! And north, south, east and west are all good and well, but how am I supposed to know which direction is which? Do people actually know this? How do they know? Seriously. It’s a mystery. Don’t talk to me about where the sun sets or rises, this is of no use to me. And when people talk about their “south (or possibly north?) facing” windows I just nod and smile and pretend to understand what that means, but I don’t. I really, really don’t. Oh, and when I’m talking about somewhere and I point outside, I’m just making a general “out there” kind of gesture, there‘s no reason to correct me and point to me to wherever it really is because it means nothing to me. Also, I don’t care.

I have to admit it is kind of embarrassing when I go somewhere new and I have to ask someone to direct me back home again. Most people seem to think this should be easy, surely you just go back the way you came? Yeah, maybe it should be easy, but not for me. This is mostly a problem while driving, and I do tend to get lost a lot. I always panic, too. I become irrational and I think I’m never going to find my way there - or home, even. The lack of control is frightening. Of course I do always eventually find my way to places and back again, it just may take a lot longer than necessary. If I need to be somewhere important I’ll often go on a reconnaissance mission beforehand to familiarise myself with the journey. Although getting somewhere once is absolutely no guarantee I’m going to be able to find my way there again, but it’s better than doing the trip blind. I think this is also why I often volunteer to drive when I go out with friends - if I’m driving, someone else has to navigate, which is perfect. If someone else drives and I have to navigate, not so perfect. I have managed to get other people as lost as I get myself, which is quite an achievement, I think. And don’t even get me started on shopping centre car parks. It’s great that they have numbers and letters and colours for people like me, but apparently they only work when you remember to look at them before going inside. Several people have suggested getting a Sat Nav (for general driving, not shopping centre car parks), which I‘m really not that keen on. Normally I love gadgets, but they’ve always seemed like a very expensive street directory to me. However I am starting to think it might be a good idea. I do need all the help I can get, and maybe I could even arrive somewhere new without feeling angry, frustrated and teary. That would be nice.

How Can a Loser Ever Win?

Is it odd that I’ve always considered myself a loser? As long as I can remember, even as a child, I’ve never thought of myself as being good at something or expected to be in any way successful. It’s not as if I was ever told that I wasn’t good enough, my parents were perfectly loving and supportive, and even some teachers seemed to think I did okay, but it’s as if I've always carried around an innate feeling of uselessness that’s not based on anything in particular. I suppose it also ties in with my almost complete lack of confidence, but I think I’m getting better at that. Or at least I’m getting better at not feeling bad about lacking confidence, if not getting better at actually being confident. But I’ve only recently started to notice that while I wear my insecurities on my sleeve, sometimes others hide theirs behind bravado and false confidence. When I started an online writing course recently we had to introduce ourselves to our virtual classmates. I was surprised to discover that just about everyone else wanted to be an actual novelist, as well as already being highly accomplished in other areas. Some said they had books already written, others had entire series’ planned out. Whereas I just wanted to have a bit of fun and maybe learn something along the way. Naturally this display of confidence made me even more self-conscious about my own abilities. It wasn’t until we had posted our first assignment (which, much to my horror, is done publicly so we can read each others submissions) that I realised that some of that confidence was misplaced. It made me feel much better, both about my own abilities and my lack of confidence. It’s not because I liked seeing others do badly, it’s just that it reminded me that being confident and being capable aren’t necessarily the same thing. I’m very open about my lack of ability, in case anyone might think I was capable of something when I’m not, so I‘ve always assumed those who were incessantly confident actually felt that way. It was quite nice to discover that I share common ground with some of those overly confident people that seem so different to me.

I guess it really just comes down to how we like to be seen by others. I assume it's very important to some people that they be seen as confident and capable. Others might want to be seen as intelligent. Or attractive. Or funny. Or authoritative. Me? I like to be nice. Now I realise that some people reading this who have actually met me might suggest that I don’t always succeed at that, and I don't, but it's what I'd like people to think of me nonetheless. Nice and kind. It's what's important to me, and it's what I value in others. (Although it just occurred to me as I wrote that I'm not even confident in my niceness!) Probably the oddest thing is that I really don't mind being thought of as a loser, and surely it's all relative? One person's loser is another person's awesome. Or something. Either way it's fine with me, and confidence is overrated anyway. At least that's what I think, although I'm probably wrong.