Why being an extroverted introvert is just the worst

I’m sorry, I’m having difficulty concentrating on this post because I’m lost in all the spooky, campy goodness that is Disney’s Tower of Terror.

That’s what happens when you are your own entire category of social habitry that you’ve made up to describe your inconsistent social tendencies–you try to type a blog and reminisce in childhood Disney nostalgia at the same time.

Man, that was a lot of ‘your’s and ‘you’s in that one sentence.

Being an ‘extroverted introvert’ probably seems paradoxical.  In a lot of ways, it is.  But all it really means is that I still pick being a kid versus actually doing adult things like ‘going out’ or ‘talking to people’.

But seriously, life is hard when you want to be a hermit, but you get too lonely to do so.

Probably the hardest part of being an extroverted introvert is the fact that you’re good at neither.  All of your life plans seem a bit out of your control. And the few that are in your control, you happen to mess up, anyways.  Let me give you a few examples of what it’s like to be an extroverted introvert:

1) You have zero plans, all the time.  And the one night you’re actually looking forward to your zero plans, at least five different people text you asking if you want to make plans.

2) You forget your phone in the car, or the bedroom, or just generally your phone is anywhere but with you the entire day, and when you finally find it and check your missed messages, you find that no one has contacted to you all day.

3) You find yourself unable to sympathize with anyone.

4) You find yourself able to reason with those who are unable to sympathize with anyone.

5) Your best friend is a dog that doesn’t live with you.

6) You are great with kids and can hold intellectual conversation with persons 10+ years older than yourself, but you have no idea how to talk to people your own age.

7) You don’t understand today’s rap lyrics.

8) People come to you for advice on things that you have absolutely no authority or experience with because you’ve spent so much time contemplating life in general that you are a quantifiable expert on all things big and small.

9) You find every encounter with the opposite sex, and most encounters with the same sex, painfully awkward.

10) Your life is Chandler Bing, period.

And that’s just the short version.  A more in-depth description of my life would also involve intense Youtube surfing, speaking like a stanza of a Lewis Carroll poem, and the sad realization that real-life celebrities are not as fascinating as their character counter-parts.  Sometimes I ask myself, “How did I become this way?” and then I realize I’m speaking out loud, and I should probably stop before I become certifiably crazy.

But really, the worst part about being an extroverted introvert is that no matter how hard you try or don’t try, making friends or getting rid of them just never works.  It’s a double-edged sword of loneliness and failed attempts at hermit-ness.

Oh, life. How you tease me.

That’s really all I had to say.  I’m going to go sit in a corner and pretend like the world around me doesn’t exist until it’s my turn to hold my nephew again. (Babies are the best, whether you’re a hermit or not.)

Yours truly,


Oh My Gosh, You Guys, How Long Have I Been Away?

No, seriously, how long has it been?

I feel terrible.  The last time you heard from me, I think I was talking about how as soon as school got back into the swing of things, I’d start having a regular schedule where I could post more.

Ahh, the days when I was filled with naive hope for my senior year schedule.  Stupid college, making me actually work hard.

Well, things have finally gotten back into the swing of things (sort of). And now the semester is half-over.  Let me give you a summary of how things went these last nine(ish) weeks:

Week 1: Friends have returned. After two weeks of living in a smelly conference room with grown men and women who care too much about the fluffiness of residential curriculum (Gahh, why do I even know what that means?!?!) I feel like I can finally remember what having a social life feels like…And begin to mourn the fact that I don’t have one.

Week 2:  Hold up, hold up–let’s go back to week 1–you want me to do what?  How the heck am I supposed to run my job, go to school, AND pretend to like people, all at the same time?  Uh-huh.  This is gonna take more than seven days.

Weeks 3-5:  You know, I really should start working on that senior thesis and research project.  New seasons of The Big Bang Theory and Once Upon A TIme haven’t even started yet.  Nah.

Week 6:  Holy crap, I forgot that homework exists.

Week 7: One. Glorious. Week.  I never thought it would be possible to actually be ahead of schedule.  So this is what bliss feels like.

Week 8: I should be doing homework and staying on top of things, but it’s alright, I have a full four day weekend to get things–baby?  What?  You’re having a baby?  OMG I WILL DO NOTHING AND SIT IN YOUR HOSPITAL ROOM AND DRINK COFFEE AND COMPLAIN ABOUT HOW EXHAUSTED I AM WHILE YOU TRY TO FOCUS LONG ENOUGH TO EAT LUNCH ON YOUR 20 MINUTES OF SLEEP YOU’VE GOTTEN IN THE LAST 48 HOURS.

Week 9:  I decide to blog at 1 a.m.

So, as you can see, things have been a bit crazy (and my tendency to procrastinate gets the partial blame).  But, there has obviously been no clear-cut routine yet this year (I should’ve known better–why do I always assume I can live my old-lady hermit lifestyle in the middle of campus?), so subsequently, my poor blog has been neglected.

I’m sorry. I’m a terrible person.

However, on brighter news, I know also write for the school newspaper (completely pointless opinion articles that I’m pretty sure only my friends read.)  Funny cautionary tale, however:  I asked my editor why my picture (which I’d taken earlier this semester) was still not being used for my articles, so he investigated and got the darn thing tied with my articles.  Unfortunately, it’s not a very flattering photo, so now it just looks like a very human-like penguin is writing for the school newspaper.

Honestly, if a real penguin was writing opinion articles, I’d totally read them.

Other than that (and some personal details which shall remain untold)  you didn’t miss much.  Ironically, though I think I said I probably wouldn’t do Fridays again for my weekly posts once I got into the semester, I’m thinking Fridays might be the best bet.  I’ll go ahead and say here that I’m going to make an effort to write every Friday.  No promises, though.  Since I’m already a terrible person, why ruin it now?

Cross your fingers.

Yours truly,