Fat Maury Povich Wife

I’m still adjusting to this “focus on myself” business instead of taking on everyone else’s problems or fretting about what everyone else is doing. But it definitely feels good to be out to people as an introvert and an HSP. My other introvert friends get it and, as I talk to them, I’m finding more people in my life than I would have imagined who are also introverts. It’s not that we don’t like to talk or socialize—we just don’t go about it the same way extroverts do. I was telling my friend Miles today about the white trash birthday party Darcy and I went to a few weeks back. Said party involved Darcy’s buddy and his fat Maury Povich wife. After spending THREE HOURS with this confab of idiots at the casino (a place all introverts dread), they wanted us to drink beer out of a bathtub in a hotel room. Miles was like, “Oh God no. Adults don’t do that. I haven’t done crap like that since high school prom. I don’t blame you for leaving. Gross.” Thank you. That is the kind of validation I’ve needed to hear. We also discussed the casino itself and I said, “I feel like a gerbil trapped amongst giants at the casino because there’s no escape.” And he said, “Exactly. There are people everywhere and they come at you from all angles.”

I know that probably sounds hideously judgmental and mean. But here’s the deal: it’s OK for me not to want to be friends with everybody and anybody. Sometimes introverts get put under pressure to be more friendly and we get sold this bogus bill of goods that we should be willing and able to make friends quikcly and easily with anyone. True enough, I do make friends easily and I’m discovering that my freak magnet is due at least in part to this empath-HSP thing. I often call myself the Piers Morgan of my own life because people are forever telling me things I neither want nor need to know. (Only he has parlayed his skill into a living. I have not, LOL.) I can’t tell you how many conversations have started in my life with someone saying, “I need to tell this secret to someone.” “I need to unburden myself.” “I have to tell you something I found out.” It can be rather overwhelming. It’s great that people sense my warmth and openness but I have needs too and I can’t always be the emotional sponge that people seem to want me to be. I would rather be at the house in my pajamas watching Duck Dynasty or reading some of my fashion magazine backlog than sitting in a tiny motel room with a group of white trashers. The two reasons why this has stuck in my craw is: a) the heifer at the dinner last week getting in my face about it and b) the fact that Darcy seemed fine with what was going on and did not suggest leaving until I brought it up. I dunno. I guess it sort of grosses me out that he felt that was a good, acceptable time. Nobody’s perfect and I certainly wouldn’t break up the relationship over that one incident. But it illuminates a side of his personality that I need to be aware of. I’m sure it probably sounds high maintenance to say “I don’t want to go to a crappy casino with bright lights and loud noises and I don’t want to hang out in a motel room with a group of people that I neither know nor want to know.” But there it is and there you have it. Would I say it to Darcy in such a harsh way? I doubt it. I’d find a more diplomatic phrasing for it but I’m not doing that again. There has to be a better way of being someone’s girlfriend and making compromises but not to the point where you make yourself miserable. That’s something I tried to communicate to these people—you need to spend time with Darcy and leave me out of it. I felt like Pussy Doodles: if you don’t like my art, I don’t want to know you. Only minus the first part; just a simple sentiment of “I don’t want to know you at all.” LOL. Goodness that sounds mean, but it’s true. I am biased, of course, but I am glad I don’t have friends that are trashy assholes like that. It has nothing to do with income or status. I have a friend who lives basically in a shack and drives a hoopty but she is a kind, honest, good person. These people actually have some money but they are frankly repellant. So yeah. Spend time with him and leave me alone. I think that seems to be a mantra of the introvert: do what you’re gonna do but please leave me out of it. Remember Alexis Yoni? “I love you but right now it’s like you are taking a hot poker and driving it into my eyeball.” That’s how I felt at the WT motel party!! I love you, but no. Let’s not do this shit.

This is also a reason why I am glad I did not accompany Darcy on his Thanksgiving trip back to the homestead. Oy vey. As soon as he put it to me like, “We would be in the middle of nowhere and if you wanted to go home or go see your family, you would basically be trapped if you rode with me.” OK. All you have to say to me is the magical word “trapped” and I am Seacrest out. I always thought of it as a Sagittarian “don’t fence me in” thing. And I’m sure that is part of it but I also think being an introvert is a bigger reason for it. In other words: if I’m somewhere without an escape hatch, I am not good company. I gotta know that at the end of the day or night, I can bounce when needed. I have a colleague who knows a lot of people. I love her and she is a friend. But when we go to a company together, it’s like old home week and it drives me crazy. When it’s time to go home, I want to go home. I don’t want to have an impromptu reunion of 20 stop-and-chats with people. But since she and I are out representing our company together, I feel obligated to stay until she’s ready to leave. If I were to walk off and leave in the middle of her having a dialogue with someone and word of it got back to our employer, I would probably be either severely reprimanded or fired. So I have to stand there wringing my hands, waiting for her to GTFO. In relationships, things can be even more tricky and nuanced. My friend Frank strongly advised me against meeting Darcy’s fam for the first time at Thanksgiving and I am glad I listened. Even in planning out my own Thanksgiving endeavors, I’m looking at ways to escape if I need to. This includes writing down movie times so that if I want to have 2 hours to decompress, I can. It’s not that I would necessarily mind watching football and drinking beer; in fact, I might do that. But then again, if I get overwhelmed, I may take my happy ass to the theater to scope out some Red Dawn. In some ways, it’s not about trying to force yourself to change your basic nature. I think it’s more about accepting your strengths and weaknesses and putting a proper game plan together on how to take care of yourself. Since there would be no airport and no rental car company in Darcy’s Nowheresville hometown, it’s not wise for me to go. True, I could’ve driven there separately and stayed just for a night but . . . I don’t want to. I love him but I have family too and I’m exhausted. I don’t want to drive 5 hours, stay the night, and drive 5 hours back. Work is only giving us 2.5 days off (not counting Sat and Sun, of course) and I want to enjoy it. You don’t get cured of tiredness by wearing yourself the fuck out. So have fun, Darcy, LOL. Love ya, but I’m not rolling with ya!