Self Assessment

Last week I was reading a thread on the MajorGeeks forums which posed the question: What are you bad at?

I was intrigued by the question. All too often do we ponder what we excel at; perhaps as a way of emphasizing our redeeming qualities. This tends to force most into stuffing their shortcomings to the back of their mind, and out of sight of their precious well-being. I fancy this type of question because it forces me to think about me. How do I REALLY behave? How do I REALLY feel about certain topics? I know how I'd LIKE to answer those questions, but ideal situations and reality are seldom the same. Insight and exploration into one's self can often be a very uplifting, and goal-forming experience.

My initial response was one that came rather quickly. I didn't think very long on the question. I simply said "I'm bad at the opposite of procrastination." Which, ultimately, is true. I tend to procrastinate when it comes to insignificant tasks I need to accomplish. Take, for instance, this weblog entry. I told myself to start writing it on Saturday, and here I am, on Monday evening, finally sitting down to write it. Though my response to the question was true, I still kept the thought in my head. Eric, what the fuck are you REALLY bad at? I knew, in the back of my mind, that procrastination was just a cop-out.

I thought about the question, off and on, for two days until Friday the 10th. I was going with my girlfriend to a party that one of her friends was having. This was the second time I was going to meet a few of the people there, and the first time I was going to meet most of the people there. On the way to the party, my stomach was in knots and I felt like throwing up. I had no idea what was wrong with me, until it dawned on me; Jesus God, I'm fucking nervous.

Why the hell am I nervous? I'm about to get drunk, jam to some music, and probably have great drunk sex with the most beautiful girl ever.

I had no reason to be nervous (unless you jokesters want to say something about sexual insecurity, which, I assure you, was non-existant). But, there was still a sour feeling tugging at me. There was something else in the equation I hadn't consciously acknowledged. Then it hit me.

Holy fuck...I have to meet ALL of her friends.

As an aside: We've been dating for 3 months, and I've only met one of her friends. Her self-proclaimed best friend. There was no nervousness in that situation. Meeting her was simple, as it was a "double-date" scenario. I warmed up to her quickly and came to accept her as a friend. At the party, though, I knew I was going to be inundated by the presence of 20+ strangers immediately; all of which knew each other. I was the new guy. Being the new guy sucks. Plain and simple. No one knows you, and you know no one, and everyone else but you has their place firmly established in the hierarchy of the social clique. As the new guy, it is your job to work your way into the system, or you face exile from her social network.

In a huge whirl of epiphany and nausea, I realized that I am ABSOLUTELY terrible at meeting a lot of new people in social situations.

I specify "social situation" because the work environment is completely different. At work, everyone has their job, and socializing is what's done in between tasks. Being the new guy at work isn't so bad. Conversation at work tends to slowly grow from the goal-oriented get-this-done-or-we're-fired sort of talk until people are more comfortable with each other. Then comes the "So what'd you do this weekend" kind of questions. It all grows from there. Smooth, effective, and comfortable.

Social situations are no-holds-barred "Let's get drunk, yell at nothing, and take pictures of our cocks" type situations. Okay, I don't really look at social situations like that, but the guys at the party must because that's what they did. Different strokes, I guess.

Social situations, to me, are actually an ability to get to know people, or just have good conversation with my already-established circle of friends. This usually only works out when it's a controlled group. It basically breaks down like this:

(The first number is the rough percentage of my current friends present, the second number is the rough percentage of new people present, and the comments afterwards are my general thoughts on the situation.)

100% | 0% :: Good times. We can just hang out and conversate, or perhaps go out and do something. Ya know. Whatever.

75% | 25% :: Yay, new brains to pick! Let's meet the new faces and see if we can welcome them into our group.

50% | 50% :: Usually happens at big parties where more than one person set out with the initial invitations. Not too bad usually, but if something doesn't work out with meeting the new faces, I always have my friends to retreat to.

25% | 75% :: Same as above, but I may find myself heading for the door if the new faces aren't too welcoming. A small cluttered group of friends at a big event tends to stick out worse than a drunk's cock.

1% | 99% :: Typically, this occurs when I'm taken to a party held by someone I don't know, in a town I've never heard of. Immediate thoughts may include: Let's leave, Let's drink FAST, Let's stand over here away from everyone else. This has only happened twice as far as I can remember. The first time was fine because I was already drunk when we got there.

If I know I'm not going to be in a 50/50, or greater, social environment, I would usually do my best to stay away. Now that I've realized this little social downfall of mine, I'm trying my best to engage new people in situations I normally would not. Like I hinted at before, there's no point in recognizing and admitting a short-coming without attempting to overcome it. I feel I'm well on my way to doing just that.