Social Ineptitude

These last couple of days have resulted in a plethora of awkward social encounters that made me realize that just like before and during my mission, I will always suffer from the all too familiar Loserish Syndrome. Let's just talk about phone conversations to start.

Looking like this does not help in any way, mind you.

 I don't remember the name of the man who invented the phone.... But I AM NOT A FAN. We already have to struggle through uncomfortable encounters with old high school classmates in Walgreens when you haven't washed your hair in two or three days and you have oversized crocs on.

It's already enough to tell your little brothers friend that he looks like a woman with long hair... 

It is sufficient for me to try and kiss everyone on the face.. All is just plenty without adding phone conversations as well!! 

So, in reality, this blog post is more an open apology to a few friends who went so far as to call me my first couple of days home. I am sorry for the formal tightness, the lifeless chuckles and the overly long, silent, pauses. Sorry that I probably wasn't listening all to well and that my mouth was more occupied chewing frantically on my knuckles than responding. I AM SORRY OK?? It's just that I am not used to phone calls that involve more than me calling to schedule appointments or pick up sick sisters to go to the hospital. I will not promise to be cutesy or charming, it seems that is not my fate, but I DO promise to be a little more socially refined. After all, being a return missionary does not require one to be a full out cave woman.

Although the adjustment to normal life has been far from smooth, there are various things that do not involve me being completely socially inept. Mountain biking and backcountry skiing do not ask us to be witty or pretty or even poison oak free, and I really can say that these outdoor adventures, along with a lot of cuddling with my mom, have saved me. Life is good, but it's even better when it's an adventure. 

Apparently I don't have a neck but who cares?! Backcountry skiing means that I can count to a 100 a million times without talking to acquaintances or strangers.

"My name is Hermana...I mean Alex... and I can't talk on the phone but I CAN enjoy an outing on my new mountain bike."

Who needs friends when you can run around in a Panai costume and antagonize little brothers in the comfort of a cell phone-free, social gathering-free home?

To end this I would like to point out that after my very own MOTHER read this she told me;
"Alex. It WILL get better. You will become normal. It won't be like this forever.''

Thanks Mom. That's the only hope we have.