This quarter I decided to not be a lazy bastard and walk to school more. I am glad that I no longer spend every morning standing around like an idiot waiting to be smooshed up against strangers, despite the nasty gusts of wind that fly in my face. The cold helps me wake up, and the longer/slower commute is definitely a lot more peaceful and good for thinking.

But today, I was a little behind schedule and I wasn’t really in the mood for walking, so I decided to get the bus. And when I emerged from my room and was coming around the corner to go to the elevator, the guy I have a crush on was waiting to go downstairs, too. Despite morning haziness in my brain, I am certain that a good number of my synapses released the chemicals for, "Oh, shit!"

Fortunately, I was not an ass and said, "Hello," to him. We had chit-chat. I’m not sure how I came off. My language was somewhat negative, which I wincingly remember a friend telling me that people don’t like that (of course, I also think my friend is barmy and not got her shit together so I thought it was funny that the opinion was coming from her, but her feeling appears to have confirmation in a paper I wrote for an art class last year in which the TA admonished me for using negative words and from people acting surprised or scoffing when the concept of me and optimism comes up). But he was asking me questions, which means he’s either just curious/polite/outgoing or (hope against hope) interested. I do feel bad that I had to ask him to repeat things because I couldn’t quite wrap my head around his accent. I did try my best to leave by saying something friendly and that conveyed goodwill. It could have been seen as a brush-off in terms of my execution, though.

I am analyzing the shit out of a three minute conversation. What I am doing is pathetic in a number of ways, but it still feels okay to me. I think this is part of why I don’t tell anyone about these things. They’d get disgusted or feel pity or be patronizing or keep bugging me or be dismissive if I gushed. And then I wouldn’t feel okay. I’d feel like I was being choked.

It was a really nice way to start the day, anyhow, alone with him in that elevator. I wish there were a more regular way of bumping into him, though.

The rest of the day was up and down.

Class was all right. I am afraid my teacher thinks I suck now, though, because I asked a question that she’d essentially already answered because my mind had been wandering, and then after class, she was all smiles at me as I came to ask her a question, and then I asked her about a stupid logistics question about our upcoming exam. 

At work, I left a note on the desk of the man who runs the neuroscience specialization because I’ve been e-mailing him and having no success and I’d really like to talk to him soon. The note was on crappy paper and hand-written and terse and messy, so there, too, I’m concerned that I’ve come off poorly. Even if I have, I just hope he gets back to me before the quarter’s gone too far.

And then after work I brainstormed with my partner for this presentation I have to do for my exceedingly lame psychology/social sciences course. I don’t think I came off very well in that session either. I acted airheaded and dismissive.

Huh, this all sounds like I had a very crappy day, but really, while I was going through it, it felt okay.

Ooh, I did have a good bit of ridiculous pondering with a friend at lunch today. I hadn’t realized how long I had gone without that kind of a conversation.

I’ve been really wondering about my personality traits as of late. I’ve always felt rather proud that I’m not an extrovert and have long believed that I was always introverted because of what I remember about my behavior from my childhood, but it’s really been digging into me since maybe yesterday that this whole thing has just been a defense mechanism. Was there some really critical point when I expressed an opinion as a wee one, got shot down, and thus have never been the same since? If that’s the case, perhaps I am an extrovert in the ego-protecting sheep’s clothing. There is a part of me that admires and desires to be like those people who can just talk to other people and not feel strange. Of course, sometimes I feel those kinds of people are glib, or have too many connections, or are just plain fake (or stupid if it’s not that).

At dinner with people I don’t know terribly well last quarter, I confessed that I was very uncomfortable around people and they were surprised. I so wanted to do an interrogation into the specifics of their feelings, but the obsessive in me didn’t win that one.

I’ve been like, "Shut up!" to a lot of my similar tendencies lately. I have begun to curb a lot of what I feel is too geeky/prying/asshole/boring to say because I am afraid of what the other person will think and what negative consequences that could have for me. Not that I didn’t filter myself at all previously, but in the past I wouldn’t bat an eye in not saying everything that was on my mind. I had my reasons and they were good enough. It doesn’t quite feel right with some of the things I’m doing now, though.

I don’t know. I’m feeling like I’m just constantly navel-gazing and that that’s all that I care about it and that makes me want to vomit on myself, so I’ll just leave the ends of my rambling messy (or messier than usual?). As the young people say, "Fuck it ."