Hey. So I’m the one over in the corner feeling awkward, like a big idiot. I’m painfully shy and it’s only through years of forcing myself to be more outgoing that I know anyone. Once I get to know you I’m much more normal, or at least I’m much more successful in convincing you that I’m normal. Inexplicably I have no trouble speaking in front of large groups of people. In fact, I love it! I suppose it’s the one-on-one contact with human beings that tends to trip me up.
I’m sure you’ve noticed by now that I’m a nice person, and by minutes two or three I’ve probably already tried to make you laugh by saying something self-deprecating, hyperbolic, or sarcastic. Look a little more closely and you’ll notice I don’t always maintain eye contact as much as I should, and I feel much more comfortable if I have something in my hand with which I can fidget. I’m kind of like the younger, female version of Bob Dole, only I’m not usually holding a pencil, and my handicap is in my brain. If we’re getting up after a meal, mine is the paper napkin that’s balled up really tightly or in bits and pieces. I also jump from topic to topic and onto tangents of tangents of tangents. I’m like the conversation version of Inception.
If we fall into chatting about the weather or some other type of small talk and I start to fade, please know it’s not you. It really is me. By the way, what do meteorologists talk about when they want to engage in superficial chit-chat? My mind is so occupied all the time from a “severe case of ADHD with the possibility of Asperger’s” as a special side dish (hooray for me) that I never mastered the art of small talk. Oh, and I’m too apologetic about things. My bad.
Have you met my husband? We met in college, and I hoodwinked him into marrying me before he knew what hit him. We met at UNC-Chapel Hill where I received a B.A. in psychology. So did he. He’s also armed with a Master’s Degree and headed toward a Ph.D. He is the alphiest of alpha males I have ever met. We have three incredible children: the Brain, the Chef, and the Comic.
Remember how I was telling you I’m nice? Well, I’m telling you the truth about that, so don’t take this next sentence the wrong way. I can hear all the Sara McLoughlin songs in the world while watching a parade of orphaned dogs walk by, and it doesn’t really do much to me. I can watch Rudy without crying, stand in a Hallmark store without flinching, maintain my refusal to watch The Notebook, and even wear a coat made of chincilla fur while eating a medium rare steak with my bare hands and dare PETA to do anything about it. I’m not a girly girl. I would rather smoke a cigar with the guys and talk about sports or politics than shop for shoes or get my nails done.
Oh, my parents named me something other than JJ Stone, but I forgive them for that, especially since that’s not our family surname. Still, I’ve written under the Stone family name (I hope they don’t mind, whoever they are) for over 13 years now, and I feel like it’s as close to me as my real name.
This blog is/will be a reflection of the things I’m interested in, and it just so happens that is many things. C.S. Lewis said, “Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another, “What! You too? I thought that no one but myself…” It is my hope that as we share our thoughts there will be many “you too?” moments!
But that’s enough about me now. Let’s talk about you. What do you think about me? Just kidding!! Let’s really talk about you! Tell me who you are.