People Move to an Isolated Island for a Reason.

Finding a place to hide...


I am off island today, and though I am warm and secure in the bosom of my family, I am being oppressed by my own dense introversion. In prior posts I had mentioned having a second date with the uptown man? Well, he has tried to get in touch with me, and set something up- but here it is, the day of the potential date, and I have been ruthlessly elusive. I did not call, I did not write- I am a complete ass.

This morning I am telling myself that I will call once I have thoroughly analyzed this Diana-like tendency toward flight. I am always guy-shy, and I am almost pathologically phone shy. In a normal week I might have marshalled my energies and prepared some sort of response, but this week was so intensely social that I failed completely to measure up to the lowest standards of etiquette. How is it that I have had such a terrible time responding to what was a perfectly reasonable invitation? Who wouldn't want to be squired to a speakeasy evening in a nice restaurant?

Me, it would seem.

I packed the clothes for it, make-up even. Could probably manage to dig up decent shoes in the archives of my wardrobe past.

But I don't know where I would find the energy to put on my bourgeois extrovert. After a week of seemingly non-stop social interaction on island, my dealing-with-peeps/presentability reserves are at dangerous lows. Especially given the need to deal with masculine attention. Seriously, I don't know how accomplished flirts do it. I expect that they are not INFPs. Do you know how much guile, patience, and tolerance for awkwardness it takes to not kiss someone after a late-night hike? Or after a nice dinner and a walk in the fog? It takes serious ovaries to put down my size six foot in a way that is tactful-ish and not teasing. I am not quite at the point where I will just bust out with "Nope. No Sugar. Nice try, wrong mark." I clearly need a new pair of Docs.

After one whole week of cat and mouse, this spinster is wiped. I love hikes, walks, tree climbing, cranberries, dinner, and interesting company, I just don't like the underlying implications and expectations. Perhaps for those who know me, it is less than surprising that I prefer the quiet narrow boy, who would probably just as soon elude me! We could carefully ignore each other and be perfectly content.

And I might get some fricking work done.