Rock Star…

Folks, I’m completely beat. My attention span is totally whacked off. I’m sorry it’s so long and going everywhere, and I’ll likely fall asleep two minutes after I finish.

(everyone in unison now… that’s what sh…)

Today was a regular Monday. Just like any other Monday.* Work was extraordinarily ordinary. I did, however, have Twitter up and was periodically checking replies to this blog. (I apologize for not responding to everyone yet; I promise I’ll get to you in the next few days.) I talked to a bunch of awesome folks with whom I had spent this weekend.

I checked the WordPress stats for my blog. My readership for today was three times higher than my previous high. And that was when I posted my list of guys I would go gay for. Wow. Thank you all for dropping by. I’m sure that the numbers will drop substantially, but I hope some of you stick around, pick up my feed, and comment. And I’ll do the same with my new found TC friends.

I did notice that a sizable portion of my visitors came from one specific blog — one called Uppercase Woman. The blog is authored by a fellow participant of this year’s TequilaCon, Cecily, with whom I had the pleasure of sitting down and talking for quite a while. It was quite nice – Tattoos were being administered and tater tots were being shared. Cecily stated on her blog that I look younger than 36 — which means that my trusty Clairol “Just for Men” was working just fine. Thank you, Cecily. I haven’t had time to respond to your latest blog entry, but I will do so tomorrow. You covered quite a bit (as did those who replied), and I want to make sure my reply is comprehensive.

I do want to touch upon an experience she wrote about which I shared. Something which is quite personal, in fact. Something which I’m guessing we have in common with other bloggers — including but not exclusive to those attending TequilaCon or BlogHer or many of the other face-to-face gatherings out there.

As much as I like to spin it otherwise, I’m an introvert. In person I’m shy — painfully so at times.

Part of it, I guess, is that I have a fear of being socially aloof. I don’t want to be the guy who brings a conversation to a screeching halt for some reason. Or who makes creepy eye contact. Or breaks eye contact inappropriately. Or stays with a conversation just a bit too long. Or tags along with one person too excessively. I don’t want to be the guy people talk about in whispers once he leaves the area.

I can’t imagine I’m the only one in our community who gets self-conscious like this. It doesn’t happen when I blog, nor does it occur when I’m participating on a BlogTalkRadio show. Perhaps it’s because what I portray there is a more scripted version of myself. I don’t have to worry about longer periods of silence. Or being distracted by something else when my ADHD kicks in. In person I often cover by joking around — which sometimes works and sometimes doesn’t.

But more often than not, I’ll retreat into silence. I don’t want to be the guy who says something wrong — so I simply won’t say anything. Oh — and I can be terrible with names. I never want to get someone’s name wrong, and I so often miss that window where I have license to ask the person what his/her name is.

(Afterthought: I was thinking about this a bit more — I have had a history of trouble with hearing at times. That’s a post in itself — especially since my Dad has had sever hearing loss for as far back as I can remember. But it makes it difficult not only to hear parts of certain conversations, but also to filter out extraneous conversations, noises and Bon Jovi songs.)

This weekend was an experiment for me — one where I would be forced to break out of the shell. I came not knowing anyone aside from those with whom I had conversed online for, perhaps, a month at most. A room
full of people, a few of whom I was really looking forward to meet. But what would happen next? What would I say after the first two minutes of conversation?

Don’t get me wrong — I was really excited about this weekend, and was looking forward to it immensely. But I was also quite scared and nervous.

But I think I did okay.

In fact, I think I did more than okay. I think I was a rock star.

Now — that might sound pretentious. But keep in mind where I was coming from. I really have trouble schmoozing people in social situations. It’s tough when the music is loud. And when you don’t know anyone. And you don’t know if there’s a proper in into conversations. And when you feel like everyone else knows everyone else. And when you arrive, like I did, on your own. I was thankful for a few things that were able to help out, such as lanyards/nametags.

But I suppose it was the friendliness and openness of everyone there that made me feel okay about just joining people in conversation. Perhaps it was the potential “out” of being able to cut all ties and never see anyone again if I really made that much of an ass of myself. But I did it. I actually did it. I introduced myself to at least half of everybody there. And it was rewarding. I was able to meet a whole bunch of great people.

This was not easy for me.

Thank you all for being accepting of who I am. And for making what was potentially a frightening situation one something special. I’m sure I wasn’t the only one there with wacky social hangups who felt at home with a bunch of bloggers.

We now return you to the obnoxious, mean-spirited, callous Shiny already in progress…

* from a very cool song called “Regular Daydreams” by Peter Himmelman. Very cool song. In fact, here:

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