Half a Year of Yes

I've promised myself that I will embrace my new location completely. The only way I know how to do this is to have a period of saying nothing but yes. Yes to every invitation I get from people at work and nice people I meet around town. Go to an election rally? Sure. Go to church with you? Ok. Have lunch/coffee/beer/cocktails? Absolutely.

It's not easy. I've got a nice-sized streak of introversion that makes me want to collapse on the couch some nights with a book or the New Yorker and just be silent. This is in addition to my secret streak of insecurity that sometimes whispers to me, "they're just asking you to be polite. don't intrude." This latter one is more nefarious and requires the greater effort to resist.

This week, I've been doing all right. I've made friends with my computer science neighbor down the hall, I've gone up and introduced myself to everyone I meet in my wing of the building, I've chatted with a bunch of different people in orientation, and I've even invited people I meet to coffee or lunch or yoga or a play or whatever. Sure, I've ended up eating what might have been the worst Mexican food I've ever had at the invitation of a woman who is obviously trolling for a wife for her live-at-home slacker son. And yes, I've gotten a cooler shoulder than I expected from some parties. And sure, there are a lot of married people in academia and they're sometimes awfully lame. But still, people are by and large very cool. In the next week I've got lunch plans with a chemist and theater tickets with a colleague, and the couple I had drinks with pronounced me "hilarious and fun." Here's hoping the word will spread.