I've been struggling to find anything lately to blog about, but one of my readers, Mary, left a comment here today that has given me a topic. Here it is:
"Donna, you sometimes write as if you think of yourself as a person with antisocial & rude tendencies. Having read your blog for years (I still think of you as Mosie), your actions never bear that out. Perhaps you feel awkward at times among others who you believe are OTHERS, but still you appear to be a nice & even generous person who happens to view herself too harshly."
Now, you can tell from the tone of the comment that this lady is a kind and considerate person. From what I've seen of her (she's a former blogger who just recently began blogging again) she is someone I wouldn't mind meeting. I was going to respond to her by email, but as I say, I'm in a dry spell here in this Blogger jungle and I'm grasping at straws.
I'm not so sure I've ever referred to myself as antisocial, although I have tendencies in that direction, especially in winter. And much of the time when I'm rude, it's accidental. I AM a loner and introvert, but half the population is introverted to some extent, according to the Internet sources, some folks more so than others. Here's an example of how I can be rude without realizing it.
When I'm out shopping, I put myself in a bubble. My own daughter could walk right past me and I wouldn't know it, because I deliberately shut people out when I'm in a crowd. That's how I deal with it. I sometimes don't speak to people I know (because I don't see them), so I've been considered stuck-up. I'm one of those people who gets in your way in a crowded aisle because I don't even realize people are there wanting to get past me.
Standing in the checkout line, I will stand daydreaming and crowd the person ahead of me without ever knowing it; when Cliff is with me, he'll tell me what I'm doing and I'll back off. The other day he wasn't with me in Walmart and I caught myself pushing my cart farther ahead than I should have, barely giving the poor lady ahead of me room to use her debit card. When I realized what I was doing I said, "Oh, I'm so sorry I've been crowding you. Sometimes I just get in my own little world. I'm sorry." And I backed up.
"I can tell," she huffed.
"I really am so sorry," I said.
She grumbled something else, paid for her purchase, and left.
I felt terrible about it, but the customer behind me in line said, "Well, I accept your apology in her place."
The lady at the register agreed with her. Of course, I was embarrassed, but their kind comments helped.
"Oh well, we don't know what that lady is going through today, do we?" I said, and made a mental note to pay more attention to those around me at the checkout. Better yet, I'll make sure Cliff goes in with me.
Now, about my being such a WONDERFUL person... you've never met me. Of course I'm not going to write in my blog about the hissy-fit I threw at some friend or relative, or the way I pout and won't speak to folks sometimes when I'm mad. Anybody who's known me personally for very long has seen that only-child side of me more than once. It's there in the background all the time. I don't mention it on my blog when Cliff and I have a disagreement, unless I can put some funny or positive spin on it. Few people are going to air their dirty laundry on a public blog. So perhaps I do come off looking better than I really am.
I'm not such a bad person, but I often don't deal well with people. Somewhere along the line I decided to be myself and accept who I am, because I don't know how to be anyone else. And since I do accept myself, sometimes I make light of my faults here on the blog. I don't feel I'm putting myself down.
Of all the Apostles in the Bible, Peter is my favorite because he was always sticking his foot in his mouth, just like me. I figure if Jesus could put up with Peter, He ought to be able to accept me too.
Just remember, Mary, you don't know anybody if you've only seen them online. I sometimes refer to my peculiar ways to keep things honest. I don't want to be guilty of painting myself as perfect, wonderful, generous... of course I have good points. And I have some bad ones you haven't even guessed at.
Thanks for the input, my friend. I missed your comments during the years you were gone, and I'm happy to have you back.