Confession #52

I love giving gifts.

Maybe a little too much. This time of year, any time I have a little extra money, I'm always tempted to spend all of it on Christmas presents. I don't even need to have extra money! Even when I really need to save what little I have, I want to buy things for people. Half the time I have to stop myself from buying presents for people I have already shopped for. And the urge to buy things doesn't stop when Christmas rolls around. I usually stay in the shopping mindset through January. I'll be out and see something cool and think, "I should get that for <insert friend/family member here>, (s)he would love it!" Then I have to remind myself that Christmas was three weeks ago and I only have seven dollars to my name.

The only thing I like more than giving gifts is wrapping them. In fact, I have actually gone out and bought things just because I ran out of stuff to wrap. When I wrap gifts that my parents got for my siblings, it isn't because I want to be helpful; it's because I can't stand knowing there are naked presents in the house when I have wrapping paper, tape, ribbon, and bows. It's actually a little ridiculous how excited I get when faced with a bare box.

(In case you were wondering, yes, I have started Christmas shopping this year. I started two weeks ago.)

Confession #51

I really want to learn to speak Welsh. 

(Reading/writing implied.)

I can hear my grandmother now. "Why on Earth are you wasting your time with that?! You're never going to use it!" She didn't even approve of my taking French in high school, arguing that if I wanted to be useful in today's society, I would take Spanish.

Well too bad, Grandma. This is going on my bucket list.

Confession #50

I'm a neurotic test taker.

I double-check the answer on the test page before filling in a bubble on the answer sheet. And then I triple-check it. And then I check it again as I fill in the bubble. And sometimes once more when I'm done. And if I don't fill in the bubble just so, I have to erase it and start over again. Then I repeat the process with the next question. Needless to say, I'm never the first person to complete a test and hand it in.

Confession #49

Up until about a month ago, I frequently had dreams about high school.

Bad dreams. The kind of dream where I'm lost in a sea of people, late for a class I can't find, and depending on the night, either nobody notices me or I'm met with people I used to go to school with and they treat me like I have no right to be there.

I had those dreams for six years. Never mind the fact that I wasn't even enrolled in public school for three of those years. The feeling of being an outsider was just that deeply engrained that first year or so and it never really went away.

I still struggle with the feeling, but nowhere near the degree that I did a few years ago. I think having friends in close proximity again (and just having friends, period) helps. And the dreams, as far as I can tell, have stopped. Huzzah!

Confessions #47 and #48

I didn't post anything last week; that fact didn't occur to me until Monday. Saturday was slightly insane and my head got all jumbled.

Confession #47: Even though I love to write, I don't have a lot of faith in my writing.

I'm (beyond) highly critical of myself, so I don't know if my writing really is average-to-mediocre or if I'm just imagining things. One thing I do know, however, is that my writing has improved drastically over the years. Reading things I wrote when I was fourteen (things I was quite proud of at the time, mind you) makes me cringe. Cringe isn't even a strong enough word. It's that bad.

Confession #48: It has been eight and a half months since I started this blog, and I still don't feel like I'm anywhere close to reaching my goal.

The goal, of course, is rather relative. Be less shy. Be more open. Looking at it plainly, yes, I've succeeded, huzzah! I've stepped out of my comfort zone several times, I've shared things I wouldn't normally share, and I've spoken with people I normally wouldn't speak to. Well, that's all fine and dandy, but what I really wanted to accomplish this year was actually changing my comfort zone, not just stepping outside of it.

I really have made progress on a number of fronts. For instance, I've been putting a lot of effort into making eye contact with people. I've also been answering (some... meaning very few) questions in class, which I haven't done in... man, probably at least seven or eight years. Making small talk is easier, at least with people I see regularly, such as nurses who give me my allergy shots each week. Hooray!

But, part of me wonders if that's really enough, given that I've had forty-seven weeks to get to this point. Part of me wonders if I've still been chickening out of too many things. The kicker here is that nobody can even answer that. There is no right or wrong, so long as I keep going forward rather than backward. That's what I'm trying to tell myself. Just keep swimming. I have three and a half months left in the year.

Confession #46

I get really nervous about requesting friendships on Facebook.

Not much to add to that. I'm fully aware of how silly it is.

Confession #45

In the past two weeks, I have met more new people than I have in the past five years. Small talk comes a little more easily than it has in the past, but I still frequently find myself wanting to run away and hide. 

Because of this, I'm not the world's best conversationalist.

If someone were to ask about my major, for instance, right now I can tell you that the obvious and polite way to respond would be to tell them I am an English major and then inquire about their field of study (assuming I'm speaking to another student). However, when an actual person asks me this or any other question, I'm so busy forcing myself to speak (and make eye contact... I've been working on that one!) that it rarely ever occurs to me to use the manners I learned when I was little. It's only after conversation has dwindled and I am left to my own thoughts that I realize I should have shown interest in the other person as well. Those thoughts then haunt me for eternity...

Okay, not eternity, but a really long time. Three recent incidents are gnawing on my brain right now. (On the off chance that you, dear reader, are someone I have ever offended with my poor social skills: sorry 'bout that.)

After obsessively proof-reading this post about fifteen times, it has come to my attention that depending on how you interpret my confession, it might sound like I don't care what anyone has to say and that I would only reciprocate questions for the sake of sounding polite. That isn't the case at all! If you speak to me, I will genuinely devote all of my attention to you. (Even if I'm avoiding your gaze and nervously staring out the window, I'm still listening.) I'm just terrible at keeping the conversational ball rolling.

Now I feel all awkward about awkwardly confessing my awkwardness and having to give an awkward explanation. I should stop typing now.