Introverts Unite! Separately! In Our Own Homes!

So...I just had my first houseguest in...a while.  I have not had an overnight guest in nearly a year.  So the guest room was...unwelcoming.  I mean, seriously - it has been a YEAR of "OH SHIT PEOPLE MIGHT COME OVER JUST THROW IT IN THE GUEST ROOM AND CLOSE THE DOOR." and "OH SHIT PEOPLE ARE COMING OVER JUST CLOSE YOUR BEDROOM DOOR TOO."

Also, after a rough academic year, things have just piled up all over.  I am threatening to be devoured by Dust Bunnies Of Unusual Size.

So last week was housecleaning boot camp.  I guarantee if you came over right now, you would have no idea how much time I have put into cleaning, finding places for shit, breaking down old boxes, vacuuming, dusting, washing dust rags so I can use them again...AND I AM STILL NOT DONE.  The layer of dust on my dresser is truly horrifying.

BUT...I managed to get the sewing projects corralled into one corner of the guest room...and winched the closet doors shut to contain the Crap I Simply Do Not Have Time To Deal With...and said guest arrived!

She was a friend from grad school.  That I haven't seen since she graduated.  So it has been 12 years.

Catching up with old friends is drastically different in the Information Age.  Thanks to Facebook, I know all about her career path, her husband's, how old her son is now, etc., etc.

But you'd be surprised how much you can forget about a person's personality in 12 years.

I forgot how much she likes to Talk.

And how very little she really likes to Talk About.

Over the last 48 hours, I have heard a lot of talking.  But I'm not sure what we talked about other than the drudgery of work.  And how she's avoiding her in-laws.  And yes, I know where you went to undergrad.  THE SAME SMALL-TALK WE WERE HAVING A DOZEN YEARS AGO.


AND THE FIVE YEARS BEFORE THAT.


I still can't name one of her hobbies.  She knows about mine - I post about my culinary/cocktailian pursuits on Facebook constantly.  I post about my shows (she expressed regret that she wasn't here for one of them).  She knows about my Medieval camping habit.

She claims she has hobbies...but after 48 hours of talking, all I know is what she does for a living, how old her son is, and what her husband is doing this week.

You know...THE SAME SHIT I KNOW FROM FACEBOOK.

It's weekends like this that make me think I'm an introvert.  Technically, I consider myself an ambivert - there are times when I am absolutely energized by meeting new people.  But only if I have real conversations with those new people.  I fucking HATE small talk.  Oh, sure, I can do it, but I only get pleasure out of it if it leads to a substantive conversation.  If you're talking just to talk - and, even worse, waiting for your chance to talk rather than actually listening - you're just exhausting me.  This is why, after a houseguest like this - one that I have known for nearly two decades, and shared a major formative experience with - leaves, I retreat to Facebook to exchange witty comments with the people I never get to see.

There are friendships that are formed from day-in-day-out contact...Friends by Proximity...and then there are your People.  The ones who you can go ages without seeing, and babble effortlessly with when you reconnect.  The ones who, when you're starting to get tired, can just quietly power down with you at a table or bar.

Unfortunately, most of my People are true introverts.  And introverts never invite themselves over for dinner, let alone a weekend.

So it goes.