This will be one of two posts for today. Be warned. More is coming.
As the title suggests, I recently had the chance to go outside for a while, and (drum roll please) socialise. While I don’t feel comfortable blogging about it in detail because there were, you know, Other People there, and it’s not only a bit creepy, but it just doesn’t seem fair to blog about a shared experience without consent… it needs to be mentioned because it kind of leads on to the point in my next post. So here comes some glorious vagueness…
This was the first Social Thing I’ve done since term ended two and a half weeks ago – that is, unless you count the odd excursion into the green parts near my home, with times and places chosen for the (yep, you guessed it) pleasing lack of people. Which is the opposite of social, really, but it’s still Outside. And even that is quite an achievement for me.
I’m making a point of this because it went well, and not just that, but it went gender-ly well too. As far as I recall, there were only three instances of birth-naming, of which, none were intentional. Which is pretty brilliant. And sometimes it’s nice, despite my endless rambling on the subject, to do something where gender isn’t an issue. You know, where my relentless Genderthoughts can rest at the back of my mind somewhere and life can go on without it for a while… Just sometimes.
Apparently I’ve not yet lost the knack for speaking to people in shops and things; dare I suggest I’m even getting better at tolerating all things public? Quite encouraging, I must admit. Now just to get the hang of using phones…
Anyway. Our Social Eventy Place was full of… cue dramatic music… Small People. Eugh. I’ve not got anything against Small People under normal circumstances, but my attitude changes the very moment I find myself surrounded by them, screaming and running around with no apparent destination. And, in our unfortunate case, singing songs very loudly with little thought to their meaning (at least, one would hope, otherwise their parents have a lot to answer for). No sensory overloads to report, happily, although my senses had taken quite a beating by the time we moved on to eat; even though it was comparatively much quieter, I still had to repeatedly apologise for failing to hear people, as I think my ears were shocked by the contrast. You can’t have everything, I suppose; my brain couldn’t just let me get away with a sensory underload for once.
Oh well. Apart from my Asperger’s getting in the way, ’twas a good one, even though only half of those invited could make it in the end. And I think it serves to prove a point: I can do social stuff, even if it’s not the most natural thing in the world for me.
And so, I’m pleased to announce that there is hope for me yet.