Saturdays

You may notice the cat is ON
the computer. Fucking cat.

Mate and I were invited to a party this weekend, and I had a hard time convincing him that it was okay that he didn't want to go.

I think it's funny that he doesn't get that I get the true nature of introversion.

I know my parents assume that I'm an extrovert-- I get along with crowds, I enjoy conventions and the chance to speak to everybody, and I thrive on guest speaking opportunities.

We call this move the "Buffalo"

But there always comes a time during the con when I absolutely positively need to be alone.  Alone doesn't necessarily mean ALL BY MYSELF IN ONE ROOM, which is why rooming with Mary works. We can both sit in the same room and work, and we don't need to talk.  We can also be happy watching television together and making random comments on the action on the screen.  At home, Mate and I can derive happiness just from being in the house at the same time-- the term "companionable silence" wasn't invented because it was a lie.

But the silence in our own heads-- that is absolutely priceless.  The comfort of routine, of being with people we trust-- that can give us a charge like absolutely nothing else.

ZB Choreographed this himself.

I know that much of my day can be solitary, and that when it isn't-- when the kids are home from school or when Big T decides today he wants to talk-- I come perilously close to being a psychotic, moody bitch.  Can't these people see I have things in my head? Can't they see I need the silence of the world to get this shit on paper? Holy Goddess what's wrong with all the fucking noise in the world?

The old shadow puppets were
done on zinc plates. They were
very cool. These were die
cut paper.

I mean, I spent this week with the kids.  On Thursday, we went to the Crocker Art Gallery to see the Lautrec exhibit-- and we had a blast.  Kewyn's bestie, Sam, was there, with his family, and they had an interactive place where the kids got to dress up like performers and go on stage.  (What you can't see in the pictures was that as they were performing a big group of elderly trustees came in and watched my kids clown around on the stage. They were entranced.)  They also got to see the occasional set of boobs in the art of gay Paris.  They were excited about that-- me and Sam's mom were like, "Don't dwell!"

Anyway, the kids colored and put on a shadow puppet show, and then visited the modern art section and went downstairs to make pipe-cleaner bunnies and play with puppets. And then we toured Old Sac and visited Candy Heaven- -and on the whole?  It was an awesome day.  Last night, Mate and I went out to dinner and to watch the Kings win.

Today, we spent quiet time as a family and saw a movie and ate out for lunch and now?

I absolutely positively have to be by myself. 

Squish needed us to take a picture of this or she wouldn't
put it on display.

Oh my Goddess-- I ADORE my family. I'd die for them. But if I don't get some fucking quiet in my head, I might kill them myself.

So when Mate -- who has been late from work because of soccer meetings and work meetings and other meetings for most of this week-- says, "I… I just… I can't…"  about going to a party with friends?

I am the last person to judge.

People assume that introverts don't like crowds-- but it's not true.  We love crowds.  But we get our power from being alone.

Of course ZB went out and found himself a baby to
entertain. It's what he does.

I totally get that Mate needs some power.

And to illustrate how much I need some quiet time?

Yesterday, I was taking T to the bus stop on my way to work out?  Big T was talking about an awkward moment in class, and I was listening, because, well, that is my job.  As we pulled up to the grocery store parking lot, I stopped a ways from the bus stop because, well, I was running late for my workout.

Squish's favorite puppet :-)

"Okay-- so I'm letting you off here because I'm late and you're not, and you can walk."

"Okay.  So that's the end of my story."

"Well, that's all right-- everyone has awkward moments."

"Yeah, but I've got a question."

It's a giant chicken costume.
Because giant chicken.

"Make it quick--I"m late."

"Am I a difficult person?"

"Get the hell out of my car."

Big T-- *laughs *  "Okay."

"I mean it. Now. Get the hell out. Get. Out. Go away. Now."

Big T laughed as he got out and walked away.

He was lucky the car wasn't moving. I would have shoved him out with my foot.

See? Dogs get Saturdays. Sleep, be pet, it's all good.