Confessions of a 70% Introvert

I have a confession, announcement, whatchamacallit to make. Wait for it...

I am an introvert. To be exact (according to some test I took once when I was bored) 70% introverted.

Now, some people regard labels like "introvert" and "extrovert" offensive. Don't try to stick people in little boxes! It's just wrong!

On a certain level, I agree. I don't just like one thing, or one genre, or have only shy feelings and moods all the time. However, introversion is quite frankly a "box" I don't mind being in...because it's my personality.


To me, most of the things listed in the picture above are absolutely in my comfort zone. I prefer situations that have a program. I need to think. I really need to observe in new situations. If I could enter a room and literally be a fly on the wall for the first 15 minutes of being there, I would be completely comfortable with that. Entering as a life-size human is a little disconcerting, and sometimes, rather frightening--for me.

Unfortunately, God didn't give us humans tiny little bodies with strange little television-store eyes and veiny wings... so it would appear that life is often configured for the "extrovert."

There are new situations that fly by much too fast, but of which one must grab hold. New places, new situations...they don't always allow for observations and mulled-over thoughts. Meeting people, especially, can be difficult, since it is generally considered impolite to stare a hole right through them. You may be studying them and coming to conclusions or even just trying to figure out something to say..but take my word for it, they'll find it awkward.

If it wasn't for that left-over 30% of non-shyness, for which I can only credit God, I don't know what I'd do. Or be. Probably friendless. I'm pretty blessed to be able to force myself to overcome my shyness, difficult though it may be--also to have a family who helps force me to meet people and friends who are forgiving. I've often emerged the better off for it, with rich experiences and a wonderful handful of friends.

I'm still working on my natural state and the negative consequences, as there are always bound to be some. But I try to walk in the determination that I am my own person, and capable of overcoming any situation I choose, uncomfortable though I may feel.  But I also embrace the fact that I really don't need to be in the center of the social circle or conversation, and am naturally shy.

To close, here is one thing that kind of makes me wish I was an extrovert. But maybe I'll do them anyway, mostly because I have an outgoing best friend, and it's always fun to share a laugh with her. Or maybe this is just too much. ;)

Patience Puppy

 

The last 17 hours, I've been feeling like I'm living in a nightmare, and wish I could wake up.

Last night was a terrible evening. Long story (female beagle with a mind of her own, got out of backyard, made it onto busy street outside subdivision) short, our dog was hit by a car last night and we had to put her down.

 Patience was the sweetest dog I've ever met. I am technically not a  "dog person" and often felt like I wasn't giving her the attention she needed, but I did love her and I miss her like crazy right now.

Sometimes I complained about her, she barked and it was hard to make her stop She  had a history of getting away and running around the neighborhood, she'd even gotten on to that street once before without incident. Sometimes we'd talk about trying to find a ranch for her to live on where these things weren't an issue,  not because we hated her, but because we wanted to do right by her.

Right now, I'm trying to just dwell on the good things: the memories that I have of her eight years with us and the good things that I can manage to glean from last night.

She was allergic to fish. Or Beneful. Or fish-flavored Beneful.

That my dad had followed her in his car and was there to pick her up, so she didn't just suffer after being hit.

That she knew he was there with her.

That vets have sedatives.

That God kept Daddy safe when he went onto the busy street to retrieve her.

That no one was hurt in any way trying to avoid hitting her.

That I gave her the pieces of chicken night before last.

That I pet her last night. She was following me around because she could smell other dogs on me.

That last week was nice weather-wise and she could enjoy outside.

That we've been letting her sleep inside instead of the garage because it was so hot.

That she loved the cats.

Like I said, sweetest dog in the world.

I remember one time when Georgie was a little bitty kitten, he mistook her for his mom. She had the most priceless shocked look on her face.

this was not a posed picture.

I remember that when Otis was a kitten, we'd let him outside and Patience would play with him, dragging him around by the head or ears. But she was so gentle and never even got close to hurting him or Georgie.

Otis' first day in our house. I think Patience would like him to play with her, but he's just not ready.

She couldn't stand other dogs, unless they were about the size of the cats.

Daddy and the little girls took her to the farmer's market downtown last weekend. I wish I'd been there. But I'm glad she was.

She used to climb trees. Even almost-completely-vertical trees. It was quite interesting.

I remember when we took her to Lost Maples two autumns ago. She loved the water, even though it was freezing. I always loved watching her explore new surroundings.


I remember when we got her. She was in a big with a bunch of other beagle puppies outside HEB. Mommy and Daddy, deciding it wouldn't hurt to look stopped the car. Yeah.

In the winter, I'd spread a big blue blanket on the chair in my room and let her sleep there.

She loved it when we played with her. However, we had to kick the racquetball, she never would let us touch it.

She was a beagle. She howled.

She would come upstairs to comfort me if I was having a bad day and just look at me with her big brown eyes, give me kisses and let me hug her. I wish she were here now.

I realize that in the grand scheme of things, this is pretty small. Horrible things happen to humans every single day. When all is said and done, this is just a dog.  But right now, to me, this feels like a pretty big deal. I know I'll get over it, and write this post was one step in that direction. I'm sorry if I'm not the normal smiley Olivia that y'all know.

I guess all I can do now is seize the day, and appreciate everything and everyone. They won't last forever.