I am reclusive and solitary, but social. How so, you might ask? Well, I am not exactly isolated, but am comfortable keeping largely to myself. Now, interacting with people on a daily basis? No problem! Heya, howya’ doin’? Okay? Okay! Yah, me too. It’s all good. (Unless you’re an Ass Clown. But that’s a different blog entry.)
But when it comes to interacting on a more personal basis with friendships or deeper relationships, such intimacy requires a deeper sense of understanding between me and the other participant(s). I know many who are comfortable interacting in large social gatherings of many people. I, too, can accommodate such social circumstances, but if given the choice, I choose not to. I suppose that makes me an introvert, but on the other hand, if given a social outing that is composed of myself and one or two others, then I am less likely to bug out. I am quite social and engaging in such an intimate setting – outgoing, one might say – because of the opportunities for deeper, more genuine interactions and experiences.
Now some social obligations cannot be avoided, at least for me, such as my personal sense of obligation to my family during major holidays such as Christmas, Thanksgiving, or on birthdays of immediate family members. The latter is not so intrusive for me, as my family is pretty low-key, and after all, I must’ve inherited my secluding tendencies somewhere from my family of origin, no?
The major holidays, namely Thanksgiving and Christmas are indeed a big deal for me. This is because there is an unspoken expectation of sociability, such that there is a collective assumption that a.) I have family with whom I can share the holidays with [which I do and am grateful for], b.) I am automatically comfortable and at ease when I interact with those whom I have not come into contact with, except this particular once a year circumstance, and/or c.) I interact with those whom I don’t know, and relay an air of complete sociability and etiquette executed to perfection. It can make for an uneasy homecoming, despite the fact that I am and have been living in my hometown for the past decade.
It’s not that the experiences are unpleasant; on the contrary, I find most social outings to be enjoyable and reflect on the experiences largely with a sense of contentment and happiness afterward. It’s just that the build-up to the event and the uncertain variables of social interaction can be exhausting. I’m almost always glad when it’s over and find myself feeling a bit surprised that I once again made it out of another large social event relatively unscathed. I know it’s not entirely rational and can even chalk it up as a mild form of anxiety, both of which are probably true. But ultimately, I think it’s too much of a bother. I feel like I have to charge up my batteries for the event, and try to expend the energy in as efficient a manner as possible, lest I fall prey to mistakes made by undergraduates attending a happenin’ party: it’s never a good idea to discharge your reserves all at once, allowing the dam to break open only to awake the next day regretting something done or said, or both, which generally manifests physically in the form of a hangover.
Yesterday, I had two friends come over and we made vegetarian egg rolls. For those of you wondering, as well as those who aren’t, here’s what went in them: napa cabbage, kim chi, tofu, carrots, celery, garlic, cilantro, ginger, and walnuts. When we ran out of innards (that’s what I call the stuffing), we filled the remaining three egg roll wraps with string cheese and cheddar cheese. If you should ever venture to make egg rolls, look forward to running out of the innards so you can make deliciously bad-for-you cheese-filled egg rolls. Then, afterwards, it’s like an enjoyable form of Russian roulette: you’re not quite sure if you’re gonna get the cheese-filled deliciousness, but when you do, yum! The downside is that anything deep-fried and filled with cheese is undoubtedly a form of Russian roulette that you may not want to play. It’s just that they’re so damned tasty! Oh, and if you get a “flat” while you’re rolling, which is a tear in the delicate egg roll wrap, you just have to double-up on the wrapping, which forms a double-wall of deep-fried goodness that’s just bad to the bone… badass, actually, literally and figuratively.
I must say that I am so grateful that my friends came over. It forced me to examine life in the ol’ homestead. First off, they came up with the idea themselves and we joked about how they invited themselves over. As mentioned, I have a tendency to be a reclusive hermit, perfectly comfortable dwelling in my cave, albeit a nice, clean, furnished cave. Okay, not “perfectly comfortable” as I find myself having feelings of dependence upon others at times, just as anybody does. But I was very pleased that they came over, as they are both good, trusted friends, and otherwise, I wouldn’t have reflected about my experiences which culminated into this blog entry. Secondly, had they not initiated coming over, I would not have actively cleaned my house with a consciousness that I normally do not hold.
When faced with the task of preparing to entertain guests, I found the looking glass self came into play. It was a form of accountability that largely need not exist when strictly cleaning up for your own sake and contentment of your personal habitation space. It forced me to consider cleaning places that I generally overlook, such as the tops of picture frames and even the slats of the window blinds. As I cleaned, I began to observe my dwellings in a new way, forcing my awareness to view things as though it was for the first time. (Very Buddhist-like, really. It’s too bad I don’t always look at my world as though for the first time!) On some level, I foresaw that this could become a serious OCD situation. Thankfully my mind doesn’t get out of control in that way, or I would’ve spent hours trying to eliminate every dust particle on one blind.
As I cleaned, I was reminded of something that I noted to myself when I first moved out on my own and into a one-room efficiency apartment. When living in such a small space, it is crucial to maintain cleanliness and minimize clutter. I found that as I cleaned ritualistically on Sunday mornings, I was busy eliminating every trace and evidence of human biological life processes. This included inevitable hair that fell to the floor, particularly in the bathroom and tub, as well as dust particles, of which is in part composed of dead skin cells that are shed. Therefore on some level, it is socially desirable to maintain a living space that minimizes the evidence of the living. But it’s a delicate balance, as you don’t want a museum space that is sterile, nor do you want a messy, packrat-infested space that’s out of control.
I am pleased to say that my home is clean and yields a comfortable space with a lot of character. However, there is also much room for improvement, such as the hardwood floors, which could use a cleaning and treatment with something or other, the details of such processes I do not know. There are also various repairs that need to occur, such as a question that was posed last night: why are there holes in your wall? Oh, that? I got mad and punched two successive holes behind my couch one night. No, really, they are for sconces that once existed, but were subsequently covered up by a previous owner. They have since been exposed by a wall repairer that had an eye to pick them out and asked if I wanted them exposed. I have yet to get around to purchasing sconces and installing them, assuming that I can do it myself and make it look good.
If you ever purchase a home or own your own home already, good luck. Not only is it a challenge to keep it clean without making it institutionalized and sterile, but guaranteed: you will have plenty of repairs that need to occur as things age and break down. But it’s nice to have your own space. It’s even nicer to share it with some people, so long as they’re trustworthy friends. Just no more than two people visiting at a time, please. And also, give me a heads up so I can clean my house with a newfound Zen-like outlook.
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