anti social

I'm currently ditching a seal meeting I usually enjoy. It's the Year in Review, a slide show held by the vet(s) explaining some of the year's more interesting cases and trends. Although I'd like to claim I'm ditching because I am behind on my packing, I'm actually down to the bits and pieces. And while I should be catching up on my sleep, as I've talked myself into a truly early departure, I'm wide awake. I could also say I'm staying home to spend more time with my hubby, but the truth is he was willing to go to my seal thing. So I'm left with only one reality. I am antisocial at my core.

Though I've known this for ages, Erik and I often refer to one specific night that perfectly captures my distaste for gatherings. We were living in Santa Cruz then, so I was waiting tables. My fellow food servers were having a Halloween party. I loved my coworkers (okay, most of my coworkers, some of them I hated...) and I even made brownies (just the normal kind, nothing herbal...) to bring as a favor. I had only a half assed costume, I remember, and that may have started the anxiety. Long story short, I drove to my friend's house and then around it, a few times, circling the block, until ultimately I was crying, with my brownies, because I didn't want to go. I followed my heart and went home and I'm sure I wasn't missed. I'm also sure I didn't miss much. But I learned a lot. For one thing, I am truly a neurotic freak. For another, it's best to have a stellar costume when going to a costume party. Finally, it's okay not to go.

And so now, when I have nights like tonight, I imagine myself driving around the block with my brownies, crying, and I spare myself the struggle. I just don't go. I'm not sure if a psychologist would think this was a grand solution, but I do. And most of my friends are used to my flake factor.

Anyway, other than my anxiety (which tonight is clearly being fed by my impending travels and by some more not newsworthy intragroup drama played out on the email battlefield...) I've had a fairly fine day. I watched my Netflix (by the way, Wendy, Wendigo was lame - was it meant to be lame? would it have been more scary if I weren't folding laundry half the time? I mean, I didn't even have to turn down the volume, ever, and there was very little blood shed, for a scary movie that is...).

I got some good seal news - the entangled girl from August is back. Still entangled, a bit deeper, of course, but well hydrated. Still hanging out on the same basically inaccessible dock. So perhaps we'll have another shot at catching her...

And OC caught and ate a bird. I don't know why, but I had Monkey watch OC eat it. He's always so fascinated with his uncle. I figured he might as well get to admire his victory. Afterwards Monkey touched the leftover feathers and shook his paw like he didn't like the feeling of sticky death. Then I felt I had subjected him to some sort of kitty child abuse.

Finally, I think I like the new hippie kitty litter. I do not feel overwhelmed with the smell of cat butt and this is good. It could just be that the whole contraption is fresh or that the fog spared me the heat of the day, but whatever.

Oh, and the Harry Potter Cockroach Clusters came. I haven't eaten one yet (to make sure they are nice and yucky but not poisoned) but they are here and they are glorious.

So tonight I am grateful for being true to myself, even if it's lame to be antisocial. And I am grateful for the opportunity to spend the weekend with my niece, even if I have to drive a ton to do it. And I am grateful to my vet, who wouldn't let me kill OC, cuz OC is so happy on his good hunting days.

Hopefully I'll be able to keep up the blogging in San Diego. My sis is bringing a lap top, so it's feasible. Who knows, I might even have something interesting to say?