La Vie de Lenteel

Peoples!!!!!

Merry Christmas!!!!!

OK, so it's not Christmas today but I'm not gonna be going onto the Internet on Christmas so I'm saying Merry Christmas now. If you can't handle the anachronism (or if you can't handle the word "anachronism") simply come back and read this on Christmas day and everything will be OK.

Now that we've got that out of the way, I'm going to paint you an elaborate painting of la vie de Lenteel. Or, to be more precise, les revelations de Lenteel, because just recently I've been going through some major breakthroughs, or epiphanies, or aha!moments, or just plain old "Oooooooooh, so that's what this was all about. . . damn, I'm stupid" realizations. By the way, this blog entry is gonna be fairly introspective, so if ye're not really into exploring the (noticeably frightening) psyche of Lentil, do not read on.

So, the revelation happened to me just this Tuesday (three days ago) and it happened mostly because I'm an absurdly competitive person and I've never learnt to say "No. That's a stupid idea. Only an absurdly competitive person who's never learnt to say "No. That's a stupid idea. Only an absurdly. . . wait. I'm confused.

Anyhoo, my whole point was that it started on a Tuesday. This Tuesday.

I was on the Internet (even though I wasn't supposed to be. I've restricted myself to Internet only on Fridays because otherwise I become a pathetically pale geek in a tropical paradise. Plus the Internet makes me homesick. But I remember having a good reason for going on the Internet on a Tuesday instead of a Friday. Somewhere along the lines of "I really, really wanted to") and I was reading my weekly email from Nibbles.

Nibbles, in her typical rambling style (that I'd like to think that I inspired, but it's probably that we're just both terribly confused and misunderstood geniuses and that that's just how terribly befused and modest geniuses write - befusingly) was telling me about the Christmas Grad Dinner Dance back home at Reynolds. She was telling me about all of her social gaffs which I would lurf to tell ya about, because they're brain-spewingly hilarious, but I won't, because then Nibbles'd probably come after me, and even though she's shorter than an elf (god, I'd lurve to see her dressed up in green leotards and pointy shoes. . . *snirks* I'd pay her to do that.) and she has a cutetsy-wutesy name (courtesy of Lentil), she's got a black belt (mini-ninja!) and can do an evil face (not just an evil eye. An evil face) like no other.

If you had to read over that paragraph a few times to understand it, doncha worry. It's just because I'm a terribly befused genius, and if I'm confused writing it, you don't even stand a chance.

Moving on, she was telling me about the Dinner Dance and how she had a great time and then she uttered the words that changed my life forever. Or they've at least changed my life for the past three days.

Since these words aren't terribly embarrassing (and even if they are, all the better), I'm gonna show you them (lurve ya, Nibbles! Don't hurt me!)

"Anywhooooo, just thought I'd tell you all the this to show you how much fun we will have clubbing in Wolfville (the town of the university we're going to. Population 6 000) on weekends. Actually, I'm lying. I'm pretty sure Wolfville is so small that they don't have any clubs, and nerdy Lentil probably won't want to go out without her books (by they way, that last sentence was a challenge. Hopefully, it motivated you to yell out at your computer "Oh ya! We'll see who ends up partying the hardest at university", thus entering us into a binding international agreement to compete this coming fall for "Biggest Party-Animal".

OK, so imagine moi reading this. At the beginning, I'm all nodding my head and "Yeeeeaaah. We are going to have fun at Acadia university. But I'm not sure about the clubbing. I'm just not the clubbing sort of girl. . ."

Then, when she said the thing about Lentil not going without her books, I was all "Yeeeeeaaah. That totally sounds like me. . ."

And then Lentil reads the word "challenge".

"Oh yeah? I can whip your butt at partying any day, baby!" At the computer screen.

Lentil reads on.

Lentil realizes that she's pathetically predictable and she should avoid Truth or Dare games more than the plague, McDonald's and Colgate toothpaste combined. Otherwise she might die (however, if she avoids all of these things (Truth or Dare, plague, toothpaste, etc) she'll never die. Of course. . .) She should also avoid rambling too much, because even she's starting to get confused.

Anyhoo, after coming to terms with the fact that I'm far too easily manipulated for my own safety, I realized that despite this knowledge (and the knowledge that right after Nibbles's Party-Animal Challenge she said she had to go and do Calculus homework, which I think rather nullifies the whole thing) I was still all "Oh yeah?" and ready to take on said challenge.

After I wrote a fabsolutely fizarre response, I went straight back to my hostel, and even though I wasn't hungry because I'd eaten early, I went downstairs to the eating are JUST TO SOCIALIZE.

Now I know she challenged me to be a party-animal (and I know that I can't pull of saying that word, but I considered adding 'f's to it to Lentify it, but then it would be "farty-animal" and that just doesn't have the right ring to it. . . ), but I figured I was so far gone that I'd have to start slowly. First I'd become social, then I'd actually go to parties, then I'd become a party-animal. Build up to it, ye know?

So instead of being my usually anti-social self and only talking to my dorm-mates when I had to, only kinda nodding and avoiding the gaze of everyone else in the building, and just reading, writing, and eating all day, I went downstairs, where everyone eats, then socializes for a few hours, JUST TO TALK. I wasn't even gonna eat!

This was a big step for me.

Normally I avoid and dread socializing and sort of writhe mentally in agony when I have to do it. I usually have to consciously force myself to make conversation, and I'm usually pretty bad at it (this is mostly with people who I'm not close to already, by the bye. But sometimes it even happens with my closest of friends.) So you can imagine my trepidation, going down there without even a plate of food that I could resort to if I ran out of things to say or became disinterested in the conversation.

But every time I thought about turning tail, I remembered Nibbles's challenge and I was all "Oh yeah?" Then I'd remind myself of how I used to be able to make friends effortlessly when I was a kid and how being insecure is such a silly stupid teenagery thing and I'm above all of that. I also reminded myself of the "How To Be Funny" webpage I'd read before coming there (shut up. You know I'm cool).

I sat down at the table at 1900. My heart fluttered.

I said "hi". I gripped my chair, waiting for the whole group to tell me that I was unwelcome there, then tear out my kidney to eat with their curries.

"Hey," said the group at the table.

So far still alive.

Then, instead of just listening in on the conversation, only butting in to make a clever, academic, and rather dry remark, usually only having to do with my well of knowledge, I actually participated in the conversation. And instead of being my clever but rather reserved academic self that I usually am with people I didn't meet three years ago or longer, I was like I am with my close friends and family: ie. bubbly, silly, and a laughing far too loudly and often.

I didn't come back to my rooms until 11:30.

I didn't fall asleep for hours, firstly because I couldn't stop chatting with my friends in my dorm (there are certain disadvantages to dorms. If you're friends with the people inside, it's like having a sleepover EVERY NIGHT. This means that turning off the light seems to just invite more talking. . . actually, nevermind. That's not a disadvantage at all) and secondly, because I'd stumbled upon a revelation of mind-boggling proportions:

I'm a social person

I actually like being with people.

I'm not sure when it started, but I'm fairly certain it began in eighth grade, where I somehow managed to convince myself that

a) most people don't like me

and

b) I'm an anti-social person and don't like most people. In fact, I don't like being with people in general.

And I kept up this lie, believing it so wholeheartedly myself that I actually dreaded talking to people. Of course, if someone dreads people and actively, and sometimes passively, tries to keep conversations and interactions to a minimum, then it's hard to make friends, and then it just reinforces your idea that nobody likes you and you don't really like them.

Throughout high school it stuck with me, and I only stayed friends with the people I'd made in elementary school and (the one) friend I made in middle school. These people I was my (I think) natural bubbly self with ,but with the rest of the world at large, I was reticent, reserved, and really bookish and kept myself at a distance. In most classes where I didn't have any of my already-made (heh heh. My "ready made" friends) I would either make some really really superficial friends, who I'd never talk to outside of the classroom, or I'd just not even attempt to make friends and just studiously pay attention to the teacher and nothing else.

I was insecure but happy most of the time, because I did still have my good friends and family.

But there were sometimes when I fell into a "funk" and I just didn't know why. I wouldn't be "unhappy" per se, but I just wasn't. . . bubbly. I'd only ever notice these funks once I'd recovered from them and the contrast would strike me. I've gotten them in the past few summers, one this spring, and I've just recovered from one just this week. On Tuesday actually.

And it's only on this funk that I've finally discovered the cause: I go into a funk when I've got nobody to be social with.

Essentially, I'm a social person and I get lonely if I don't satiate that urge.

That's why it happened during the summers (lots of times during my summers I don't see my friends that regularly), this spring (I had friends at school, but back at my home, I didn't have my family), and in India (I had no friends and no family. All of my "friends" I've mentioned I kept myself at a distance from. I never allowed myself to be actually hyper or bubbly around them).

Eureka!

Lentil has a future as a psychologist.

But anyhoo, the result of this revelation is that I've completely changed my attitude about my life.

Before I was all: I like to read, eat, and think. I avoid people because they're boring. I secretly (except not so secretly, because I'm pretty open about all of my thoughts and feelings) think that I'm boring as well. I think that if anyone ever looks like they're having a fun time talking to me, they're actually secretly wishing they were with somebody else because I'm no fun.

Now I actively start of conversations with people. I actually got out with the intentions of making friends (actual friends) and opening up to them. I'm bubbly with everyone I meet. I go into conversations and go out of them, knowing they're the reason that I feel happy.

Just in the past three nights, I haven't come back to my rooms until 11:30 at the earliest, 12:30 at the latest. One night I played poker (not as fun as regular card games. You can't be that silly while playing poker, and what's the point of playing cards if you can't be silly?). The other two I just stayed out talking and laughing so hard (the others were laughing too. Don't worry; it wasn't just me)

At work I strike up conversations with the customers and we sometimes accidentally hold up the line. At lunch I sit down with people who are eating alone, and we chat my whole lunch hour away.

And this has done wonders to my confidence.

I never realized just how insecure I was until I stopped denying a fundamental part of who I am. Once I released that I've flourished and it's like a wilting flower all of a sudden regained life and said "I feel so alive!" (man, that sounded hippieish. Auroville's starting to get to me. . . )

Of course, old habits die hard, and lots of the times I find myself slipping into them against my conscious will. Like this morning I didn't go eat breakfast with everybody downstairs, but went to go get some food at a store. I knew that I'd have fun if I went down, but that stupid dread that I've taught myself to feel just came to fore and I couldn't help myself. Even right now, as I'm writing this, I'm dreading eating lunch, because it means I might have to sit with somebody else and socialize. I have to consciously remind myself that I like people, and that that's just my lying habit talking.

So yeah, that was my revelation. That I'm a social person. I hope ya enjoyed reading about it (I know that lots of adults like this introspective teenager junk because they're all like "Ah. I remember going through something like that" and I think that lots of teenagers like reading it themselves, because they're like "Good. I'm not the only one" and I know that most kids don't like it because they're like "What's insecure?"),

I'm gonna go eat lunch and talk to some stranger and have a good time,

Lurve y'all,

Bisous,

Namaste,

Lentil,

The Girl Who's Super Excited About Christmas. Probably More Excited Than Even A 3 Year Old. . .