On social awkwardness

I've been thinking this week about social awkwardness, annoyingness, and my place within them. I've been shy my entire life, and as I've grown older, I've become increasingly aware of just how socially awkward I am, even as I think my awkwardness has gone down. In the past I viewed myself as a weird person who would always be weird. I still think that's true, but I think I have the potential to be more normal than I previously thought. There's charming weird, and there's awkward weird. I'm wanting to be the charming, rather than the awkward, variety.

First, some awkward people:

I find myself exhaling deeply when I find someone doing something annoying. Last summer, I posted about the old man in the cubicle across from me. Sometimes I feel like he's a robot with only a few set programmed expressions, because he always says them over and over, usually with the same intonation. I find myself exhaling deeply whenever I hear him going, "You dumb thing! Arr!" or "Oh, wow, [sing-song mumbling]." I don't know why it should annoy me, but it does. Sometimes I think he forgets he's in a cubicle and we can hear everything he says. He talks to his wife on the phone several times a day, and last week I heard him joking, "You wore a [something something] bra to her party. That's all you had on?" Keep in mind that these are people in their mid-70s who look like they're in their 90s.

There are some people who are terrible parents; and since they're terrible parents, their kids are poorly behaved and may sadly become terrible parents themselves someday. When their kids do something wrong, it can be annoying, but they're just kids, and the parents' reaction (yelling and chiding but not fixing the problem) makes it so much worse. It's very annoying. They're so blasted dumb. [This paragraph has been toned down since I first posted.]

There are a few people in my ward who love to make comments in lessons, and whenever they start talking, I think to myself, "Oh no, here we go." (I'm not talking about all people who love making comments, just a few specific ones I'm thinking of.) They go on and on with some comment that is not related to the topic. Some of these people are autistic, so it's not really their fault, but others are not, and I can't help thinking, "For your sake and everyone else's, will you please stop talking?" (Once, one of the autistic people said, "I have a question. If someone has their baby tattooed before their blessing, would that be considered child abuse?" I don't even remember what we were talking about, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't about babies, tattoos, or child abuse.)

Yesterday (Saturday), I was able to get out and do some trail running on the Wild Rose Trail and adjoining trails again.

The lines on the hill were created during the Depression as part of the New Deal.

 Some of my miles were very slow because I was talking to people. One man was new to the area and asked where the trail went. I was happy to help him, but I did second guess whether I should have given him clearer directions and suggestions. The second one was weirder, as he started asking me a lot of personal questions. "How often do you get new shoes?" was the first weird question. I told him it depended on the shoe, and he asked if I had sturdy ankles, and he asked how old I was. When I told him 28, he said something like, "So you still have the mindset of bullets coming at you, indestructible?" What was he insinuating by that!? The whole exchange seemed a bit condescending.

I hate to seem like I'm judgmental or rude, but these are the kinds of behaviors I want to avoid. Not that the people are bad, just that I want to avoid the behaviors that make people uncomfortable. But I often worry that I am equally annoying or awkward.

This week, I was invited to attend a luncheon for the launch of the book At the Pulpit. It was a little intimidating. There were a lot of high-ranking, highly educated people there, and my Target cardigan seemed out of place among all the suits and sports jackets. I feel too much like a little peon to really interact with all these bigwigs, but the resulting awkwardness makes me even more of a little peon. I don't know how to stop the cycle.

There were also several other people I ran into this week where the exchange was awkward. I'm inherently shy and quiet, but I'm also terribly insecure that I'm going to come across as one of these annoying people, so I don't want to say too much. But sometimes that just makes it worse.

I finally got my new suits this week. I'm tired of always looking as awkward as I feel, so I'm trying to alleviate that. But I don't know that I'll ever really be able to shake my awkward image. Even if it's only in my head.