Meeting New People

Well, hey, Blogger! It's been a while! Like, a few years!

I felt that today's post should be about meeting new people.

It's the first day of uni. You're starting your new job. You're meeting your boyfriend's parents. You're hanging out with a group and only know a couple of the people there. I'd say that on a bi-yearly basis, most people are meeting new people and forming new friendships, and it is STRESSFUL! For me, at least.

Let me start by saying that I consider myself a fairly confident person. I kinda like myself, if that's not too bold to say, and think that overall I'm a pretty good friend and acquaintance. I'm happy the majority of the time. I love to smile and I love to laugh, and I love to make others smile and laugh; whether it's a pity laugh because of how painfully unfunny I am, or a genuine laugh. Whatevs. It's all good. I'm a weirdo, granted, but in the best way possible. I am exceptionally loyal and can be trusted with any secrets you decide to pass on to me. I am, in general, quite the hoot. That is my (not-so-) humble opinion of myself. Higher than it has been in the past, I'll have you know, so don't bring me down!

So that's all well and good, isn't it? However, when it comes to meeting someone brand new, I am easily the most socially awkward and loserish person on the face of this Earth. I absolutely lose my crap. I blush, I stammer, I sweat a little bit, I tremble, I twitch- all the things you do not want to do when making a first impression on somebody. It's bad. It's really bad. Particularly if the person I'm meeting is even vaguely good-looking. I'm a completely straight- AND married- woman, but meeting good-looking people still wigs me out. Men or women. All the same. I freak and

You know how I said that I blush? That is an understatement. My face burns up so red that I can actually see my own cheeks glowing if I look down slightly. I get all hot and flustered and menopause-ish, and then, because I'm thinking about it, it gets even worse. Some people see this happening and take it upon themselves to inform me that I am blushing. "Thanks, kid! I didn't know!" It literally makes my face throb. And I just know that my upper lip will be emblazoned with sweat too. Delish.

I guess the point that I'm making here is this: If you think that you are abnormal and a freakazoid because you have a physical/allergic/emotional reaction to socialisation, you are correct, but you are not alone. Yep. You got it right. I'm not giving any advice here. I'm purely telling you there's no hope and that you'll always be awkward around new people. Sorry. C'est la vie! So, let us join clammy hands and know that we can always be normal human beings with our immediate family members. And only our immediate family members.