Why didn't you do anything this weekend?

Whenever I am asked about what I did on the weekend, I freeze up for a split second. I know I was supposed to be drinking at some crazy club or chillin’ and grillin’ at a barbeque. At least, that’s what I feel the implications of the question are, and I know I didn’t do those things. I was probably working during the day and watching a movie at home at night.

Is that lame? Do I not have any friends? I have at least four or five friends, and at least two of them live in the area-ish. But back to the point, why do I feel a moment of shame when I’m asked what I did this weekend? The reason is that we introverts aren’t creating social expectations, and we have to change that.

Unfortunately, social expectations are often set by the people who are, well, socializing. As hermit introverts, it's unlikely that we will get together to change that. It's too bad because half of the world is introverts (that’s according to the Meyers-Briggs personality test). We have the power; it’s just dispersed among TV rooms, kitchens, and libraries across the nation.

So, what’s the solution? The solution is to organize, to set an agenda for social change. We’ll call it anti-social change! We need to get together at a bar some time and change social standards! I know; I know. You’re all a bit nervous, my fellow introverts; but don’t worry, so am I. In fact, the thought of grinding the night away, dropping Hamiltons on almost-alcohol-free drinks and screaming at my buds about how wasted I am has me downright anxious. But we have to do something. The extroverts are using their gregariousness to make us feel bad about ourselves. Does nobody else feel this? I for one am sick of it.

We all need to get out and convince people we aren’t losers. We’re just different. You can hold your own in social situations—well, at least most of you. Some of you should probably stay home. But most of you should be out there spreading the word that we are people, too. It doesn’t matter that we prefer sitting at home. That should be our guilt-free right. Get out there, find an extrovert, shake their hand, and say, “Hi, I’m an introvert. And I’m OK with the fact that after I shake your hand, I will go home and veg out on the couch as is normal and is my want.”

And Extroverts, please understand that we’re like you. We like to drink. Just because we aren’t at bars boozing it up, it doesn’t mean we’re not drinking. We may be drinking alone, but we probably have a few close friends nearby. We have relationships. They are mostly the result of two introverts being painfully lonely, to the point that fear of being alone outweighs fear of being with somebody else for extended periods of time. But they are relationships nonetheless. We have friends. At least that’s what they type to me when I’m chatting with them on-line. See, we’re the same as you, Extroverts, except just the opposite.

Introverts, help me spread the word. Please get out there so that 1) I don’t have to feel bad about myself when I tell somebody I haven’t "done anything" this weekend and 2) I don’t have to talk to anybody about this problem.

Why don't I appreciate animals?

Two birds with one . . . car? My girlfriend and I were driving into work the other day when BAM! Two birds literally fell right out of the sky in front of the car. Luckily for them, we were nearing our destination and only going about 20 mph. Any faster and they may have had to deal with the momentum of the car. They were also lucky because they landed between the paths of the car wheels, thus avoiding certain steam-rolling.

I checked out the scene post-plummet, and it looked like they were still alive but not doing so hot. One hopped up and tried to limp away, his wing and leg obviously having seen better days. The other one just lay there until a passerby decided to help the birds get out of the street. He fetched some bark and tried to lift / shoo them out of the road, something I was not planning to do. My first thought wasn’t completely unkind: “Should I put them out of their misery?” The incident made me reflect on my view of animals, and I realized that I take them for granted and I am not OK with that.

My thinking about this topic actually started a couple of months ago when I was with my heroic friends in LA. We were driving around LA when they spotted a dog that looked like it was a stray. Like a military exercise, he stopped the car and she jumped out to check the dog tags as he circled the block. I was surprised they stopped; I didn’t realize how deep their love for dogs is. I wouldn’t have stopped, despite growing up with dogs as pets.

My view of animals is based on farm animals. As a child, I spent a week each summer on a farm, and though the pigs and bull were long gone, there were still dogs, chickens, and semi-feral cats. They were all farm animals, and farm animals don’t curl up in your lap or beg for food. They are around because they serve a purpose like every thing else on the farm. My grandma fed the dog table scraps but didn’t scratch his belly or baby-talk to him. We didn’t name the chickens, we just collected their eggs. I think this led to the obvious but perhaps somewhat callous belief that animals aren’t people; they don’t deserve or need the same kind of care we do.

That belief stuck with me even when we returned to suburbia. At home, we had a dog, and I had promised to feed and walk him when we got him as a puppy. What kid wouldn’t promise anything to keep the cutest puppy he had ever seen. Within a week, my parents were getting up to feed him each morning. They walked him. They took care of him in his old age. Over the years, I became distracted with school, friends, TV . . . the rest of life. It’s too bad because that dog deserved so much better than the occasional care I provided. I wish I had realized what an awesome dog he was.

I haven’t had any pets but fish since living at home. I know I don’t can't afford the time or money it takes to own a dog or cat. Heck, based on the fate of my last fish tank, it doesn’t look like I have time for those (a moment of silence for, Firecrotch and Sucktomus Prime). I now realize that I have taken pets and animals for granted, and I don't think that is OK with me. I don't abuse them or anything, but I am a little too apathetic when it comes to them. 

However, going forward, I will treat pets and animals that fall from the sky more like people, even though they aren’t technically. I won’t dress them or feed them food that costs more than mine, but I will treat them with a bit more dignity and help when I can. I don't quite have the heroic nature of my friends and probably won't stop for every stray I see (baby steps). But if I see birds fall to their probable death, I will at least try to give them a fighting chance by getting them out of harm's way.