Reclusive

This morning we had another planning meeting for WisCon, the feminist-oriented SF convention here in town. Right now we're discussing things like flyers and what should go up on the Web site. I'm the Webmaster, so that's the stuff I need to listen to. The Web site is a bit outdated right now because there hasn't been much information to put up until very recently; I hope to revise it in the next couple of weeks. We're getting about 130 hits/week on the site's main page, lately - a heck of a lot more than my own home page gets!

It also sounds like I will sell my old Mac Centris 610 to some friends in the group in the near future. It'll be good to get it out of the house.

I also biked there, which is about 2 miles each way. Not many hills, either, so it was easy work.

Other than work, I've been pretty reclusive lately - "lately" meaning the last four months or so. I feel like I've been wresting for about eight years with a basic dilemma: Am I a social person, or am I not? And I don't feel like I've wimped out in this matter either: I've worked really hard, for many years, at building a good social life for myself, but it just feels like it hasn't paid off. I've put a huge amount of work into my social life, and with only a few exceptions I feel like I have relatively little to show for it.

I'm not really sure why this is. Clearly there's something in my psyche that makes it difficult for me to become good friends with people, although it does happen sometimes. Some of it may be that I have such a strange array of interests, and that there are many social things people do that I really dislike, such as dancing, going to bars, and the like. Maybe I'm just too particular. For instance, a woman in the SF group has an annual Halloween party, but since I hate (really, really loathe) wearing a costume, I don't attend. (I have this strange thing about wearing clothing other than my usual clothes. I've started wearing a T-shirt for biking; this is a big wardrobe change for me.)

On the other hand, I do get along well with most people, in a casual sense. People don't run screaming from the room when I arrive (and I do know some people whose arrival prompts other people to start looking for the exit). On the other hand, I do often feel like I'm intruding on other peoples' lives, which is not a good feeling; I try very hard not to be a bother to other people unless absolutely necessary.

So the transition to being (essentially) a hermit is something I'm trying to become comfortable with. I'm not there yet, but then, I'd been increasing uncomfortable with my so-called social life, feeling that my interactions with most people were increasingly forced, and that I was the odd man out in most situations. I'd rather put my energy elsewhere (or even nowhere) than keep dealing with that.

Certainly no one said dealing with other people would be easy, but I don't think it should be like searching for a needle in a haystack, either.

Michael Rawdon (Contact)