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bedlamsbardI get scared easily.
I'm not just talking about physically, although I'm probably one of the jumpiest people you'll ever meet. If I have to actually interact with people, in any sort of way -- especially one that I haven't done before -- I literally have to be dragged into doing it. When I went to the AFROTC orientation here at Tulane, I was so nervous and so scared that I was practically hyperventilating. (And this was exacerbated by the fact that one of the other freshmen there was the type whose entire family was in the Air Force, thus already knowing everything, and was also the outgoing type who sat there getting phone numbers while I was panicking for no reason. I'm actually pretty sure that she's a big part of the reason I didn't end up doing AFROTC after all.) Of the six or so student organizations I signed up for at the activities expo, I've gone to a grand total of two meetings: Intensive Newcomb, because one of my friends is doing it with me, and KKPsi, because I begged, bullied, and pleaded myself out the door. "It's band," I said. "It's band people. You know them. Anything band-related you can do in your sleep." I'm inordinately fond of the fact that I managed to set up an audition for the concert band and go to it without having a nervous breakdown of some sort or chickening out at the last minute. But again -- it's band. That's what I kept telling myself when I went to Dixon to check out a saxophone from Tulane -- it's band, you can do this, you have to do this. And I still couldn't bring myself to knock on the band director's door; it's a good thing he came out.
It doesn't show. My voice doesn't shake, my hands don't shake, and I can still be charming and polite and not show a thing. But my throat closes up, and my eyes fill up with tears, and it's easier to do anything, anything, than leave the room. I'm fine once I've done something once, or maybe ten times. But the first time -- I put off doing my Japanese homework for a week because I'd have to go up to the Language Learning Center at the top of Newcomb Hall, which is literally right next to my dorm. Never been up there. I don't know if I would have done my homework if I hadn't asked a friend to walk with me at least up there, and even then I froze at the door and had to have her drag me in. The reason I did NOLA and not the marching band -- and I loved NOLA, but I think the decision not to do marching band was one of the worst decisions I've ever made in my life -- was because it was easier to fill out the application for NOLA than it was to dash off an introductory e-mail to the marching band director. And I have an add/drop form sitting on my desk right now -- which needs to be filed, like, yesterday -- so I can officially have concert band on my schedule and, um, be in KKPsi, but I haven't filled it out yet because I have to go in and talk to the music department secretary. Which means I have to find her. And it's not that I haven't had time; I've had time. It's just easier to forget about it.
I don't like going places by myself. I don't particularly like going places with people, either, but if there's someone else there, that means I have backup. It means that I'm not alone, and that I probably won't chicken out at the last minute. It means that if I'm wrong about something, then at least there's someone there with me. And god, but I'm paranoid. I really am the girl that locks the room door every time I go to the bathroom. I'm the girl that panics walking across the campus after about seven o'clock or so, because it's dark and Tulane's campus isn't the most well-lit ever. I'm the girl who's terrified to walk a block or so off-campus; I'm shocked that I managed to take the streetcar down to Louisiana and walk up that to Magazine by myself in the middle of the day to get to the music supply store so I could buy reeds. (Sometimes I think band is the only reason to leave J.L. besides classes and food. I may very well be right, and good gods above, why the hell didn't I do marching band?) I don't even like to wander around my own dorm by myself; heavens alone know why.
Maybe I should have gone to a smaller school in a smaller town, or a smaller school in a safer town. I could have; it was definitely an option. I would have been fine at Wellesley. Some of my friends would still be with me if I'd gone to Central, and I'd know more people. But I fell in love with Tulane and New Orleans, and here I am.
It's not that I don't like human company. Some of it is that I'm terrified to make the first move. A lot of the time I really would like to be alone with my computer and my Internet connection and my knitting. But I like going out with people and laughing and telling stories. I don't like it a lot; I don't like people that much. But I like being able to see my friends. Only thing is, on a college campus two thousand miles from home, I have to make new friends, and I'm really, really bad at it without an impetus. So I don't go out. I don't see people. I don't know people. I don't mind, much. Except when I need someone to go somewhere with, and there's no one to call on. (Not that I would; I hate making the first move, or thinking that I'm putting people out.)
I really have to get this form filed today.
I'm not just talking about physically, although I'm probably one of the jumpiest people you'll ever meet. If I have to actually interact with people, in any sort of way -- especially one that I haven't done before -- I literally have to be dragged into doing it. When I went to the AFROTC orientation here at Tulane, I was so nervous and so scared that I was practically hyperventilating. (And this was exacerbated by the fact that one of the other freshmen there was the type whose entire family was in the Air Force, thus already knowing everything, and was also the outgoing type who sat there getting phone numbers while I was panicking for no reason. I'm actually pretty sure that she's a big part of the reason I didn't end up doing AFROTC after all.) Of the six or so student organizations I signed up for at the activities expo, I've gone to a grand total of two meetings: Intensive Newcomb, because one of my friends is doing it with me, and KKPsi, because I begged, bullied, and pleaded myself out the door. "It's band," I said. "It's band people. You know them. Anything band-related you can do in your sleep." I'm inordinately fond of the fact that I managed to set up an audition for the concert band and go to it without having a nervous breakdown of some sort or chickening out at the last minute. But again -- it's band. That's what I kept telling myself when I went to Dixon to check out a saxophone from Tulane -- it's band, you can do this, you have to do this. And I still couldn't bring myself to knock on the band director's door; it's a good thing he came out.
It doesn't show. My voice doesn't shake, my hands don't shake, and I can still be charming and polite and not show a thing. But my throat closes up, and my eyes fill up with tears, and it's easier to do anything, anything, than leave the room. I'm fine once I've done something once, or maybe ten times. But the first time -- I put off doing my Japanese homework for a week because I'd have to go up to the Language Learning Center at the top of Newcomb Hall, which is literally right next to my dorm. Never been up there. I don't know if I would have done my homework if I hadn't asked a friend to walk with me at least up there, and even then I froze at the door and had to have her drag me in. The reason I did NOLA and not the marching band -- and I loved NOLA, but I think the decision not to do marching band was one of the worst decisions I've ever made in my life -- was because it was easier to fill out the application for NOLA than it was to dash off an introductory e-mail to the marching band director. And I have an add/drop form sitting on my desk right now -- which needs to be filed, like, yesterday -- so I can officially have concert band on my schedule and, um, be in KKPsi, but I haven't filled it out yet because I have to go in and talk to the music department secretary. Which means I have to find her. And it's not that I haven't had time; I've had time. It's just easier to forget about it.
I don't like going places by myself. I don't particularly like going places with people, either, but if there's someone else there, that means I have backup. It means that I'm not alone, and that I probably won't chicken out at the last minute. It means that if I'm wrong about something, then at least there's someone there with me. And god, but I'm paranoid. I really am the girl that locks the room door every time I go to the bathroom. I'm the girl that panics walking across the campus after about seven o'clock or so, because it's dark and Tulane's campus isn't the most well-lit ever. I'm the girl who's terrified to walk a block or so off-campus; I'm shocked that I managed to take the streetcar down to Louisiana and walk up that to Magazine by myself in the middle of the day to get to the music supply store so I could buy reeds. (Sometimes I think band is the only reason to leave J.L. besides classes and food. I may very well be right, and good gods above, why the hell didn't I do marching band?) I don't even like to wander around my own dorm by myself; heavens alone know why.
Maybe I should have gone to a smaller school in a smaller town, or a smaller school in a safer town. I could have; it was definitely an option. I would have been fine at Wellesley. Some of my friends would still be with me if I'd gone to Central, and I'd know more people. But I fell in love with Tulane and New Orleans, and here I am.
It's not that I don't like human company. Some of it is that I'm terrified to make the first move. A lot of the time I really would like to be alone with my computer and my Internet connection and my knitting. But I like going out with people and laughing and telling stories. I don't like it a lot; I don't like people that much. But I like being able to see my friends. Only thing is, on a college campus two thousand miles from home, I have to make new friends, and I'm really, really bad at it without an impetus. So I don't go out. I don't see people. I don't know people. I don't mind, much. Except when I need someone to go somewhere with, and there's no one to call on. (Not that I would; I hate making the first move, or thinking that I'm putting people out.)
I really have to get this form filed today.