Facebook friends

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . December 18, 2009 . 9:43AM

I’ve never done well with keeping friends for long periods of time. I think much of this has to do with several integral factors in my life. I grew up on a farm and, most of that time, I played on my own. I’m also highly introverted, by nature, and I often prefer my own thoughts to the thoughts of others. It’s not that I don’t care what you think, it’s just that the noise in my own head is so strong that your noise would be overwhelming. I like quiet and solitude and small groups of people. I like to go out, but infrequently. My profession is one-on-one and that connection is important to me in so many ways. It fits me.

It never occurred to me that the people I’d left along the way weren’t really gone. For the longest time I was such a black and white thinker that I’d written those relationships off as lost to me.

And then I found Facebook. Because I’m an introvert, social networking draws me like flies to honey. I can speak to people quickly and efficiently, which also hits my firstborn tendencies, and feel like I’m connecting without losing the energy that I lose in face-to-face interaction.

And then I started exploring.

And found the little girl from down the farm road that I used to play with often. I road my green bike with the banana seat to her house frequently. And not only did she remember me, but she was delighted to hear from me. We still had the connection that we had even then.

And I found the first friends I had when I finally started elementary school. And then those when I moved to a new town.

I found my first group of friends from middle school. We were so close for those four years. It was like we picked up where we left off. The best friendships are always like that, aren’t they?

I found my high school best friends and my college best friends. I found people who weren’t best friends, but that I like more as adults than I did as children. They have grown into amazing people that I love.

Through other social networking sites I have found people that I love more and more each day.

For me, I think it was just a reminder that, though there are times I feel alone and have certainly felt alone in the past, I never was. They were with me. They missed me. They were there.

And they still are.

Emotions vs. Logic

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . September 21, 2009 . 10:06AM

When the people we love are in trouble, we react quickly and emotionally. We don’t always step back and assess the situation with a calm head. There isn’t always time to do so. I’ve watched Intervention and some of the other shows that highlight families in crisis, and the general first reaction that people have when their loved one objects to help is to bow down to tears and cave. It’s one of the reasons that people usually have some kind of objective facilitator who helps with those kind of things and keeps everyone on track.

When AJ had his Kentucky incident, I didn’t think. I smacked Leon to get his attention and then I ran. I haven’t ran in years, but I ran to him. I couldn’t help him or make him better, but he needed me and I needed to be with him.

When the people we love are in trouble, we react quickly and emotionally.

Recently, I was watching footage of the Dallas motorcade with JFK and Jackie and I reacted to it rather strongly. Warning: Graphic language coming.

I’ve probably watched the grainy footage from Dallas 100 times in my 30 years. I’ve noticed many things about it and have looked at it from various mental angles. However, this particular time, when I watched it, what kept coming back to me was that Jackie reacted quickly and instinctively to keep Jack safe. I have no idea what the state of their marriage was. By all accounts, it was not the most functional, but whose is? However, she recovers from shock quickly and scrambles to the back of a moving car to grab pieces of his brain matter and then pulls him down to keep him safe.

Brain matter isn’t like a finger or a toe. You can’t sew it back on. Once Jack was hit and it was exposed, it was gone. He was gone.

When the people we love are in trouble, we react quickly and emotionally.

It wasn’t rational to scramble across a moving vehicle when bullets were flying around her, but love motivates people to do things they wouldn’t otherwise do. It gives us strength to do things that we don’t know we can.

I’m in awe of its power. Always and completely.

Confessional Friday: I hate talking on the phone

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . August 14, 2009 . 11:02AM

It’s time for another confessional Friday.

I’m an introvert by nature. People that know me tend to forget that when they first met me, I likely didn’t say much at all to them. When I am in large gatherings of people, I tend to talk only to the 2-3 people sitting next to me, unless I know all of them well. I generally speak when spoken to if I don’t know the people sitting next to me.

Recently, I was at a huge gathering of people that are friends with Leon (and some I will reluctantly claim–you know who you are). I was sitting between a publisher that I’d never met and Leon, who was talking to a friend of his on the other side. I’d also never met several of the people at our table. I quietly munched on some bread when the publisher looked directly at me and said, “this side of the table is awfully quiet.”

I tried to swallow the bread, which promptly got stuck in my throat, and mumbled something about it definitely being less lively than other parts of our rather long table. At which point I did something I never do: I went into counselor mode and started using my interviewing skills to ask him questions, because, frankly, I had no idea what to say.

I didn’t probe his mind or do anything unethical. I simply asked him some “getting to know you questions,” but I was quite uncomfortable for the first 20 minutes or so. About the time I began to grow comfortable with his company, he left to do some other tasks for the get-together we were attending.

Such is my life.

What does this have to do with talking on the phone?

Without those visual social cues, I often have difficulty judging where the other person is heading with a conversation. I like non-verbal language. I can tell a lot about a person from that non-verbal language. I think my clients appreciate that about me because I can often learn just as much from their non-verbal language as I do from their verbal language.

When I’m on the phone, I lose that ability. I dislike it. I have to keenly focus on pitch and tone and “trying to keep up the conversation,” which, for an introvert, is exhausting.

Bottom line: Unless I know someone well or we have lots to talk about or you are ok holding the majority of the conversation, text or email is best.

I hate talking on the phone.

Birth order: fact or fiction?

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . July 23, 2009 . 12:26PM

There are people that dispute any kind of birth order connection to personality. To those people I say pffffffffffffffttttttttttt. And here’s why: Our personalities are part genetics and part experience and part of our life experience is the house we grow up in and the way our part in that house shapes who we are. Hence, your birth order, will help shape your personality.

My mom reads this blog (everyone say hi!) so she’s going to read this. I have to let her know that it makes me giggle when she is flummoxed at the differences between myself and my sister, Livvy.

I’m a total type A, perfectionist, overachiever who will lay awake at night worrying if I remembered to turn off the computer at work. Keep in mind, once I’m home, there is NOTHING I can do about the computer at work. I’m an introvert who loves to read and a homebody who likes nothing more than to stay at home and relax.

Livvy’s a total type B, cool as a cucumber, it’ll get done when it gets done kind of girl. She’s smart as can be and she’s incredibly sociable and likable. She makes friends easy and doesn’t really hold a grudge. She’s sweet-natured and people gravitate towards her in ways that they never will in my direction. I envy her ability to just “let it go.” She gets good grades without putting forth the hours it would take me and lives her life with a smile.

I’m a responsible first born.

She’s the baby that came 16 years later.

She’s my only sibling.

I adore her, madly. She’s one of the coolest people I’ve ever met and I’ve met a lot of people. There isn’t sibling rivalry and I think she’s awesome.

So, when my mom calls and tells me about my sissy’s hijinks, it’s hard for me not to giggle, because my sister is a typical, effervescent baby of the family. This must be like a cool splash of water after her neurotic first-born. In many ways, it’s great. Livvy is really easy to love and does all of the outgoing, extroverted things that just weren’t me. In other ways, it’s pretty different. It means that mom has to be more sociable and do more parent driving and host more sleepovers, etc. In a lot of ways, mom got the best of both worlds, really.

And she has two kids who love each other a whole lot and who genuinely miss each other when they aren’t together. A firstborn and a baby that far apart makes for a great combination and they also help prove the birth order theory.

I have to go now. I miss my sister.

If you live to be one hundred, I want to live to be one hundred minus one day so I never have to live without you. - A.A. Milne

The moon and me

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . July 17, 2009 . 12:28PM

When I was a little girl, I used to think, in the egocentric way of children, that the moon and I had a special relationship. I don’t remember having imaginary friends, though my family has reassured me that I did and that they had 80′s-riffic names like Tiffany and Brittany and Claire. The relationship I remember was mine with the night sky.

Before all those silly things called rules (and if you can’t tell, I’m being facetious here) and safety belt laws and booster seats, etc., people like my mom allowed their kids to lay in the back seat and sleep on short car rides from town to town. Sometimes, I slept. I do love a good nap beyond most anything in life.

However, there was something mystical about looking out the back window, while laying in the seat and watching the stars and the moon. I could make out the face in the moon and I imagined a whole world where the moon was my friend and we frolicked at night. There was so much wonder in this world and what I never could figure out was how the moon FOLLOWED me from town to town. It just further confirmed that what we had was special and that the moon was MINE.

As an adult, I can analyze this and see the ecogentricism of where I was and even how the moon “followed” me. But don’t you pretend for one second that you don’t understand the magic, because even as adults we crave that connection to the sky.

Why do you think cars have sunroofs and car makers have convertibles?

I’ll never be without a sunroof again.

When is the last time you took a minute to look up at the clear night sky? What’s stopping you from connecting with the child who looked at the moon and wondered if there was really a man up there?

Things that made us happy then can make us happy again.