[font color="navy" face="Verdana"]That's me, every time.

People who share my interests, yeah. People who live in a different universe than
I do....nope.

While not all of these are on my list, most of them are.

I'm sending this to people who don't get me & to people who are like me.

Yeah, that's mostly me too. Refuse to use Facebook (a curse upon it), or a smart phone, though.

but the one about being at a party and hanging out with the cat or dog is really, really me, especially when everybody else is getting buzzed and I'm not because I can't drink.

[font color="navy" face="Verdana"]If it's absolutely necessary to even BE at a party, the most entertaining place to be is a bit apart, cozy with the house pet(s), sipping something nonalcoholic, and watching everyone else get embarrassingly sloppy.

I told her that the one of the cartoon girl with the cat at party is me for sure. Then added that I thought the only thing worse than having to attend a party you didn't want to attend, would be a party at a house that had no pets! Then you are stuck finding a corner to disappear into I guess.

# 6 has happened to me.

My mom, an extrovert who has been frustrated with my introversion for 53 years, once, in my late 20s, threw a surprise bday party for me at her house. She didn't invite my friends. She didn't know them, or didn't know how to reach them. That was on purpose. After a childhood of her knowing my "friends" better than I did, I kept my small number of friends protected.

So, she invited all of her friends. It was a party for her friends to celebrate my birthday. Some of them I knew. Some of them I knew of, because she spends an inordinate amount of time telling me everything that happens to everyone she knows, in painful detail. All of them "knew" me, because she spends as much time telling them all about every intimate detail of my life, as she does telling me about them. Hence my determination to keep my social life protected.

When they all jumped out and shouted "SURPRISE!" I was understandably dumbfounded. And horrified. I managed not to let the horror show on my face. I looked at her, and she looked back at me with an immensely pleased look of satisfaction and "gotcha." I plastered a fake smile on my face and proceeded to spend the next couple of hours nodding and making inconsequential responses to their stories, and deflecting their questions with vague, generalized responses. I tried to be gracious.

When I could finally leave without being rude, I did. I did not say a word to my mother. I didn't have to. She can read me. By the time I left she was looking a little apprehensive. I didn't take or return her calls for about a month. I finally did because I knew she would show up with the police or a shrink or a group of friends to do an "intervention" if I didn't. Because, of course, if she couldn't reach me, or wasn't talking to me, I must be in some sort of crisis. I wouldn't be functioning without her. I figured she'd be smart enough to leave well enough alone, and not bring up the party. Nope.

I didn't rant. I simply said, "Never, ever, do that again. If you ever do, I'll be out the door in 10 seconds flat instead of covering for you. That's all I've got to say about it, I don't want to hear what you have to say about it, and if you want this conversation to continue, you will move on. Now."

She did.

I am happy to say that she has gained some insight over the years. She still inundates me with all of her friends personal details, and she still talks too much about me. I still don't share many things with her because of that. She has stopped trying to force me to be someone I'm not, though, and accepts that I need my space.

[font color="navy" face="Verdana"]Your mother sounds a lot like mine. Fortunately, I was able to avert such an event because I caught wind of it in the very early planning stages.

I immediately warned her that I knew and if she went ahead with it, I'd turn around and walk right out and embarrass her in front of everyone (her worst nightmare).

Even after all these years, she hates that I'm not her extrovert/social butterfly minime (maybe even as much as she hates our polar-opposite political differences).

if part of my introversion is a conditioned response to her lack of social filters. I still have to be careful; she tries to be more aware, to be more careful, but in her determination to make a point, she will blurt out all of my personal business in public.

[font color="navy" face="Verdana"]My dad used to say, "She just can't help herself. That's who she is and she can't change." I've long since come to the conclusion that he was right. He was an introvert, too, by nature as well as in response to constant betrayals, large and small, by her.

She could never, ever be trusted with any kind of personal secret or information, especially if it might enhance her cachet with her friends. I suspect that you and I were at least partially shaped by that realization, which can't help but create a profound loss of trust on a very personal level.

I LIVE in one!
Finally.
After all the years of working, of living in cities, I got to return to my happy place with early retirement.
It is so quiet here.
Interestingly, me and Mr. Dixie are both loners, so we respect each other's need for long periods alone, thinking, reading, etc.

Here's to us Introverts!!!!........

15 years....heaven....then life got in the way. I'm aiming to go back though and just the thought of that keeps me happy.

earliest years of the 20th century. The town is still tiny...154 and I think that's a stretch!

Ive struggled with depression, and anxiety all of my life.

People don't understand. I like being alone. I find it relaxing. My best day is not talking to anyone. Maybe take a long walk. Enjoy nature.

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#25.

I just don't care about what most people have to say, unless it's about something I'm interested in.

hahaahaha this is my life.

Yep..all of them.

the glory of retirement!!!!!!