I’m a huge introvert, and I aknowledge it can be a problem at time, so I try to make efforts to socialize. This time(in the early 2010’s), I’m invited to a shack party in the countryside, the owner’s a stranger to me (the friend, of my friend, boyfriend’s) and I say yes. I thought we was going at a small gathering around a bonefire, kinda like a 1 night camping trip….I could not be more wrong.

It’s a huge party, in one of those expensive mansion by the lake with hundreds of people, the kind of thing that only happen in movies(or you would think so). Definitly not what I mentally prepared for. And it was only the beginning.

I did not bring a swimsuit because I just hate swimming, but my friend would not have it; she proceeded to forced me into her spare bikini and in the water. Everybody I knew was in the water, and as more and more people came over, and distract them, I run out and change back in my own clothes. My top shirt vanished and I’m left with a kinda see through shirt, letting everyone see my bra. It not my style to show off like that(I have big breast, and I believe it skip the “sexy” stage, straight to “sl**ty” tmo), but it’s either showing my bra or freeze in a wet bikini top.

I don’t care at this point, I want out already. I try to isolate myself in a corner to calm down. Night have barely fall and I’m stuck here until morning. I breath and try my luck inside.

Everything start fine, I get welcomed, and engage conversation with philosophy students. One start to ask my opinion on this and that to debate, when suddenly he look at my hands moving as I talk…do a double-take from my hands to my face and suddenly say: “Oh no! You are a Jedi! No, no, no, I’m not talking to you!”

Now, I think what the F*** is that weirdo about?! And I just engage conversation with the guy next to me instead. But the weirdo tell him to not talk to me because “I’m a Jedi” same with all the one’s near by and they all freak out and actively ignore me. So, there I am, standing in the room, incredibly unconfortable….and hurt from the rejection to be honest. Also, one weirdo, that can happen, but all of them? What was that?!

I walk away and come across some people about to start a game of beer pong. I want to join but I hate beer. I can’t stand the taste. I ask if I could play with a shoot of something or another instead of beer in the cups but I get this answer: “NO! Beers only and only beers! You don’t play” And, I get shut out again.

By now, I’m rather dishearted and unimpressed, just push my back against a wall, wonderring what I am doing here and what I’m going to do… When, a guy spot me and we start a conversation about movies, which I enjoy, but fast the (big group of) beer pong players are getting so loud I’m resorting to read his lips to understand him, which ain’t ideal. So, I scream him a good 3 times: ” Can’t hear you! If we can continu this conversation outside?” We get out, and I ask him what he was telling me about what movie, but he barely managed to answer with a lot of: “hmm, ah, yeah, so hm, yeah, huh…” before declaring he was returning inside.

And once again, I’m left alone, wonderring how the heck that happened that many times (with the distance… maybe he though I was flirting and he was not into it? But I really was not! ). So, now, I’m hanging with a tree and take a breather, looking around at drunk people doing drunk things. The one’s outside are on the verge of passing out and I can’t see my friends to go back to. Therefore, deciding inside was a better option, I brace my courage to approach a person again and make my way in.

This time, someone see I’m empty handed and offert me a drink of absinthe. I agree as I never tried it before, and he start that little ritual of burning sugar in, which I think is really pretty and we chitchat over it, but right after handing me a, generous serve, he’s gone!

I can’t take it anymore. I bring the plastic cup with me and decided it’s late enough, I’m going to sleep. I take a sip on the way, find it taste like windshield washer, and empty the cup in the grass, because whatever, I don’t care about anything anymore, I’m done.

Only to find my friend’s boyfriend IN my sleeping bag, using his own bag as a mattress, making it impossible for me to simply use his instead.

I’m mad. I’m tired. I can’t go to sleep. I walk around outside, most people are asleep or vomitting. The sun is already up for a while, we are leaving in 1h or so at this point, when I found a little group of people not sleeping too. I’m not rejected this time, and one of the guy was cute. He tried to make a promise with me to meet there again, at the next year party; That’s when my friends woke up and was ready to leave: “right this second!!” Before I can ask for an actual way of contacting him. ( Of course that “meet me next year” never happened and I never saw him again.)

Once in the car, all my friends go into how it was “so much fun!”. The one that made me come had to add: “See *my name*? You out of all people stayed up all night long! It must have been such a great party for you! It’s a proof you have to socialize and go out more, like, all the time! It’s going to be just like this! It is not amazing!!!”. They never let me tell my perspective of that party neither…

I swear I tried to enjoy it, but, please, never again…

My family got a West Highland White Terrier (westie) named Hagrid, who had the biggest personality of any dog we have ever owned. Unfortunately a few months ago he was hit by a car and killed. It was devastating for all of us, but my sister took it especially hard as he slept in her bed whenever she came home.

She lives with her roommate and her roommate’s dog, George. George didn’t have a lot of socialization with other dogs when he was young and he is very protective of his people, so he isn’t very good when meeting dogs on the street.

My sister decided to take George for a walk and she saw a woman with a westie who turned a corner and disappeared. As soon as she saw the westie it brought back all the memories of Hagrid and she burst out crying. She got this thought in her head that she just had to see the dog again. So she went looking for it. She, while crying, found a park and saw a man with a westie and locked on to that one, now wondering if she was going crazy and just hallucinating that every dog she saw was a westie. So she started following him. Still crying. She got to a bench and tied up George, and then saw the man and the westie coming towards her.

Man: Is your dog friendly?

My Sister, absolutely bawling: No

The man grabbed his dog to keep him from getting too close to George and my sister approached them, asking to pet the dog. The man allowed it and my sister, while still crying, began to play with him.

Man: I have another westie, My daughter is walking him. Did you see them?

My Sister, sobbing: I followed them but I lost them

Eventually she was able to stop crying and explain why she was having that reaction and the man was very kind and understanding, letting her pet the dog for as long as she wanted. My sister was able to walk away smiling at a good experience rather than just feeling the pain of missing Hagrid, thanks to the man who didn’t run away from the crying girl who started following him.

I’m a VERY oblivious person. Often whenever something important occurs, I won’t realize it until it’s halfway happening. Also, please keep in mind that my brother and I both have lisp, mine is worse than his.

One day, way before the pandemic, I went with my family to a newly opened steak restaurant. Once we got seated, a server came to us to collect our order.

Server: What do you want to eat?
Me: I’ll have tenderloin, medium well, please.
Brother: I’ll have rib eye, medium rare.

Our orders came pretty quickly and began eating. However, not long afterwards, my brother started noticing something amiss.

Brother: This steak’s too cooked. I don’t think it’s medium rare.
Mom: Well maybe the kitchen overcooked it a bit. It’s okay, it’s good for you even.

(Note: My mother thinks any steak cooked below medium is unhealthy.)

I kept on eating quietly, though I did think at one point that my steak’s a little too pink for medium well. However, I didn’t clock in until I finished probably half my steak.

Me: Wait, (Brother), your steak’s too overcooked, right??
Brother: Yes, why?
Me: Mine’s undercooked. I think they misheard us and therefore our meals got switched.
Brother: Really??

Our server was very apologetic and confirmed that he indeed had mistakenly switched our orders, and we got a free ice cream as a compensation. However, from now on, every time we go there, our parents convey the order for us instead.

(My mom and I are both voracious readers, but we read very different genres of books — she prefers cozy mysteries and action/adventure books like Clive Cussler’s works, while I read a lot of fantasy and science fiction. She occasionally comments that I “read weird stuff,” but beyond that we just accept that we like different books. Though that doesn’t stop us from occasionally discussing what we read with each other.)

Me: I’m close to done with this book and I still don’t know how the title ties into the story.

Mom: What’s the title?

Me: The Sparrow.

Mom: What’s it about?

Me: They discover life on another planet, and the Catholic Church sends a ship with a couple of priests first thing to spread the word of Christ to the beings living there.

Mom: Well, THAT’S completely ridiculous.

(I expect her to go on a spiel about how far-fetched the concept is… but nope.)

Mom: You know dang well it’d be the Mormons who send the first missionaries to another planet!

Me: …you know, you’re right.

(I feel I should add a disclaimer that yes, our family is Mormon. We’re just not above poking some fun at the oddities of our own religion now and again.)

(I am just getting out of my car and see two guys walk out of the restaurant I work at. I think nothing of this and head for the building, ready to start my shift. Before I can enter, one of the guys stops walking, looks directly at me, and – I kid you not – starts mooing very loudly. Then his friend stops too.)

Friend (shouting at the moo-er): QUIT SCREAMING AT THAT LITTLE GIRL!

Moo-er (shouting at the friend): I WASN’T SCREAMING! I WAS TALKING!

(I bolted into the building, not even remotely sure what just happened. I was a little concerned those guys were a sign of things to come, but luckily the rest of my day was pretty uneventful.)