Deep Nerd December

Almost forgot to post my December article! https://deepnerdmagazine.com/15-reasons-you-are-more-than-enough/

Normal Parents, Strange Children

I hadn't intended to make my post on Susan Cain's book (Quiet: The power of introverts in a world that can't stop talking) a two-parter but it turns out that I have more to say on the subject; I'm now reading a section in which she talks about children who are mismatched with their parents (introverted children with extrovert parents). The point is to illustrate the learning curve when your child has a vastly different personality than you and, while I'm not a parent, I'd like to think that adapting to your child's personality style is, at least somewhat, instinctual. Ms. Cain gives two examples in the book; in the first, she talks of extroverted parents who were concerned for their son who seemed to shy away from new people/experiences, so much so that they took their child to a psychiatrist who told them that their son was perfectly fine and not to worry. Were they comforted by this assessment? Not at all. In a stunning display of bad parenting, they took their kid to multiple psychiatrist until they found one that agreed to "treat" him (watch the news for a Menendez-style outcome to this approach). The second is of an extroverted mother who finds herself with an introvert for a daughter. Did she drag her kid from shrink to shrink in hopes of "fixing" her? Nope. Guess what her approach to the introverted/extroverted "mismatch" was? Patience and understanding. Or what I like to think of as parenting. Now, I've never been a parent but I have been a child; a really, really odd child. A child who ground crayons into the rug in an attempt to build a castle. A child who pretended to be a cat. For a week. When it was nowhere near Halloween. (Including sleeping in a cat crate and taking meals in a dish on the floor). A child who decided she was Wednesday Adams and wore only black. A child (and now adult) who talks to herself more than anyone else. Did my mother search desperately for a cure to my weirdness? No. (At least not as far as I know). Did she try to change me on her own? Nope. Did she hope she would one day end up with a "normal" child? Don't think so (though, now that I think about it, perhaps this is why my sister was born). All through my odd childhood and now as an odd adult all my mother has ever done is love me and accept me; tiaras, cat ears and all. Now, while my mother is a self described introvert, I'm still not sure what I am, but we are definitely mismatched. And, on behalf of odd, different, weird children everywhere, whether this means you prefer your own company to that of others (9 times out of 10 the right choice) or if your life is a constant performance piece (complete with costumes), your parents should celebrate it. If they didn't/don't, they missed the point.

The Family That Hates Together...

Anyone who knows us knows my sister and I are as different as two people can possibly be; we don't look alike, act alike, dress alike. We don't have many of the same interests. There's nothing about us that would make you think we're sisters, or even related for that matter, except...we have very similar hates. We rarely agree what color the sky is when looking right at it but when it comes to hate, we're totally simpatico. Actually, this is true of my entire family. For example, we hate rudeness; we have been known to leave notes on the cars of people who think it's okay to take up more than one parking space. We hate self importantance; lookin fly today *humble brag*. Our response: #noonecares, #getalife, #toomuchtimeonyourhands. We hate stupidity, or even the appearance of stupidity. If you're over 18 and don't know the difference between they're, their, and there, don't talk to us. We hate useless people, i.e: people whose only reason for being on the planet seems to be to tell other people what to do. Hint, if you have multiple Tweets about how people need to stop living off the government but you, yourself haven't had a job since the first Bush administration...yeah, no, that's not gonna work for us so if you could kindly go back to whatever version of la la land you came from, that would be great, thanks. And we don't just hate these people, we loathe them. We abhor their existence. We can make an event out of hating. All it takes is for one of the aforementioned offenses (or one of the many, many others not listed here) to invade our orbit to start the text messages a-flyin. If snark were a sport, our homes would be overrun with trophies. Seriously, we're that good. hatred of the stupid or inane is the glue that bonds this family together. It's part of our genetic makeup. Some people got freckles, we got sarcasm. Welcome to cynic town, population: us. Let the hate glow.

Little Boxes Made of Ticky Tacky

I'm in the middle of reading a book titled: Quiet, the Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking. It is a fascinating read, mostly because I can't decide if I love it or hate it. One chapter I'm nodding sagely, reveling in learning something new, the next I'm seething, wondering if this woman (Susan Cain) is condescending or niave (neither of which makes me happy). She's constantly citing studies that seem to prove that all introverts are one way and extroverts another and that this label, introvert or extrovert, accounts for every decision we make in our lives; from career choices to spouses to favorite activities. Sigh. Yet another attemp to reduce human behavior to labels. If we label people, perhaps we'll be able to understand them. Yeah, good luck with that. No one is all one thing. Let me rephrase that, no one worth bothering with is all one thing. I have a shirt that reads: I love mankind, it's people I can't stand. It's so true: all my life I've been called a social butterfly, if something is happening, I'm usually right in the middle of it. However, those who know me well know that my absolute favorite person to be with is me. (If your following along, last week's post was about quiet clubbing). If this contradiction lied only with me I'd leave it alone (I'm used to being the exception to the rule) but it doesn't: my sister comes off painfully shy and seems to have a hard time making friends. Yet, she craves the company of others, almost constantly. But I bet no one would categorize her as an extrovert. I worked with a woman who appeared warm and friendly but frightened and insecure would actually describe her better. I'm also very good friends with a man who rarely raises his voice above a whisper, he is the king of diplomatic solutions, and he knows everything about everything. Ms. Cain would most likely call him a classic introvert. Except, he's never alone. Ever. By choice. Actually, Ms. Cain provides for people like this in her book too, through something called Free Trait Theroy. Apparently, Free Trait Theroy is when you are really one thing but pretend to be another. You know, like when your boss organizes a company retreat complete with trust exercises and you participate because you like your job and want to keep it. Or, the guy who purchases box seats to the Yankees home opener even though he hates crowds AND baseball, because his best friend never made it to a game last year. Free Trait Theroy at work? Perhaps. Or, it Could just be ACTING LIKE AN ADULT! Whatever happened to that? Has the world gotten so bad that growing up and "acting right" is considered a theroy worthy, term creating event? You know what? Don't answer that. On the other hand, she also talks about what she calls Core Personal Projects, something you involve yourself in that restores your soul, and gives you good reason to venture outside your comfort zone. She also points out that being in tune to your personality can help you discover your Core Personal Projects, and that not being in tune with yourself or denying who you are can lead to dire consequences, both psychological and physical, which resonates with me as I've recently come to the conclusion that my job (or more to the point, my boss) might literally be making me sick. So perhaps she's on to something after all, I'll finish the book and keep you posted.

Clubbing for introverts

I love going out! I love deciding what to wear, heading to a party spot, and grabbing a few drinks. Know what I don't love? The part of clubbing that involves talking to other people. Also, I'm not crazy about that awkward standing around, waiting for decent music to dance too. And, speaking of the music, why the hell is it always so loud? When I said I love going out, I meant I love the idea of going out. Not all of that other bad music, worse conversation, why-do-I-even-bother nonsense. And, after a lifetime of suffering through "traditional social interaction" someone has finally created the kind of bar scene I can actually enjoy. Welcome to quiet clubbing; a way of partying that cuts out all of pointlessness and leaves you with the good parts; music you can control and chatting by invitation only. In order to go quiet clubbing you first find a place that offers is (very searchable via Google). When you get there you will be given a set of headphones that play differ generes of music controlled by you! That's right, don't like what's playing? Change the station! Want to rock out with someone? Switch to whatever station they're listening too and keep the party going! Actually feel like talking? Headphones off! Jerk guy trying to get your attention? Turn up the beat and drown out the creep! At last, socialization they way God indented; on a case by case basis!

Red Cup Revolt

I'm guessing whomever wrote the song "world confusion" was probably psychic...or more likely just paying attention. Red cups people, that's where we are as a society. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. The biggest problem facing society right now is not that Starbucks has red cups, it's that people noticed the red cups in the first place. And not just noticed them but are offended by them! Actually offended, as in so disturbed they were affected on a physical and emotional level. By cardboard. This is what it's come to. This is why we can't make any progress as a society, because we are undone by paper cups. Do you know what this really says about us? It says we have become so petty, so shortsighted, so damn entitled, that red cups without snowflakes make us see...well red. Not hunger. Not poverty. Not unjustified police shootings. Cups. And snowflakes. And fairness. (Not real fairness, of course, that would be too hard). And perceived slights. And, let's not forget, feelings. Ah yes, feelings. We feel that the lack of snowflakes on the Starbucks cups is an affront to our beliefs. We feel that the bare red cups are somehow marginalizing or even erasing, our values, our way of life, our very existence. And I personally feel that this, squabbling over cup colors and decorations like exasperating toddlers, is just a new level of pathetic that we actually need a new word to describe it. In the meantime I'm going to go find something that will make me forget cup-gate 2015, like a shot of vodka...or a bullet.

People with no control over their own lives insists on exacting control over yours....

So I ran into one of those people today. You know, the ones stuck in menial jobs whose only taste of power is when they can tell someone else what to do (namely you). Yup, one of those. This one came in the form of a security guard at the public library (remember those?). My laptop died this week and my iPad isn't always optimal for writing projects so I was kickin it old school at the computer lab. However, as it was one of a million stops for the day my phone was dying. Fortunately, the library has stepped up its game and installed a free charging station. I deposited my phone at one of the docks towards the end of my computer session (I was down to 9 minutes) figuring it could get a little juice while I finished up and ran to the little girl's room. Well apparently the library avenger had other ideas cause he marched into the computer room and yelled, that's right, yelled, at me. In front of everyone. Like I was 15 and in the principle's office. As I collected my things to leave he tried to smooth things over with me, which further irritated me. Granted, he was just doing his job and just didn't want to see me lose my phone, but seriously??