Confessions of a closet extrovert

Somewhere over the course of the last 10-12 years, I ended up here:

Bad hair and a photobombing cat.

Which is a little interesting, seeing as I used to be here:

Dressed up for Rocky Horror - 2001

That’s all well and good I suppose. Everyone has to grow up sometime, calm down a little, maybe go out less.

I kind of went from one extreme to the other though, with a few little dramatic flairs in-between. I never actually wore flares, but I did use to get around a lot in brightly coloured fishnets, a bandanna and very little care for what anybody thought of me.

My friends and I were borderline obnoxious, singing very loud and tuneless versions of highly inappropriate comedy songs in public and going out to be seen.

I even worked in an adult boutique for a while, selling lingerie, magazines and other grown up things.

Time went by and I settled into a relationship. I got boring and domesticated. But boy was it nice having someone at home that didn’t mind me looking daggy and spending my evenings watching soapies. Thank goodness the heavy makeup and finding somewhere to sleep at late night parties were a thing of the past.

Somewhere between the photo above and early 2010, I lost my confidence and I pretty much stopped going out at all. At one point due to a bad experience, I was pretty much agoraphobic and wouldn’t even leave our flat to go to the washing line.

Not having the money to go out was a very valid reason, and so was the fact my husband starts work before 7am… and the fact I live in Perth and try to avoid going out purely so I don’t get my head smacked in by drunken and drugged up yobbos. But there were plenty of no so valid reasons.

I didn’t have anything to talk about.
I was tired.
Jas didn’t want to (Jas probably would if he was asked).
I don’t drink. (But I could drink if I wanted to).
I don’t like driving at night.
I washed my hair and didn’t want it smoked on. Well I don’t want any part of me smoked on really.
The music would be shit.

I liked that I no longer had to think about going out late. I was perfectly ok with hanging out with my husband and my cat, watching tv. Granted –  no longer jumping around til midnight every Friday night at the pub meant my weight creeped up, but these are sacrifices we make for an early night!

And that’s fine! I like it, and I’m perfectly ok with anyone else that likes it. Especially for those people that work hard all week and want to put their feet up and snuggle under a doona after work.
My problem is though that at the moment, I don’t work all week and it gets really freaking boring sitting at home all day on my own. It’d be nice if my down time wasn’t also fairly solitary.

There are days I long for the freedom and carelessness to go out and wear whatever I want, spark a conversation with whoever I want and – shock horror – go out after dark.

One of the best things to have happened to me in the last 18mths or so is that I joined Twitter. It seems to be that people either get Twitter or they don’t. I love it and it’s allowed me to meet a heap of new people online, which I’m steadily getting to know offline too. I now count some of these people asgood friends. hich is nice when you’ve moved away from full-time work and old chool friends are all time-poor parents.

I very slowly started to get out and meet people more. I’m enjoying it. It’s always a little awkward at first, but I’m buoyed by the fact that the  people I’m choosing to hang out with seem to actually enjoy my company. Madness!

I still wasn’t going to go out at night though.

It’s not safe.
I’d be tired.
I don’t drink.
I have no money.
I’ve been living in t-shirts and jeans for 3yrs and have nothing to wear.

Bunny cocktails.

But last night I went out! At night! To a bar!

The lure of these Lindt Bunny cocktails was too good, as was the company on offer and the fact I did actually want to celebrate my birthday after all. And not just by curling up in the corner of the cinema with my hubby and not talking to anyone.

It was fun! And whilst I may no longer have the energy or desire to go out to parties or the midnight screenings of Rocky Horror…

I can still go to the early sessions, and I can still have fun!

Rocky Horror, Feb 2010

I’m still kind of broke though, so if you’d like to donate to my “Starving Artist Fund” and assist my fledgling social life, there’s a donate link on my webpage 😉 Thanks!

Kell =)


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s