I do not not know what has caused this level of anxiety when I think of going to other people's homes. It could be the way my mom drilled into my head as a kid that while playing in the neighborhood, if I had to go to the bathroom I should come home to do so, but I don't think that is it. I'm using that as the reason I have bathroom issues in public (which is its own blog post all on its own).
It could be because the family of an ex-boyfriend was so horrible to me every time I came over. True story. My ex-boyfriend ate dinner at his parents house every night that they were home, despite being in his 30s. This was a night where his parents had been expected to not be home so I had brought Avanti's gondolas. I brought enough for the two of us plus some for the next day for my lunch at work.
Right before dinner, his parents called to say they were home. So the ex said, "Great! We have gondola. We'll be right over." We took both the planned dinner plus my lunch for the next day over to share. We got there and put the sandwiches in the fridge and hung out in the kitchen waiting for his parents to come in. After a while his mom came in slamming cabinet doors around and grabbing the salt and pepper and her drink and then went back into their TV room. Didn't say a word to either of us.
His dad came into the kitchen and said he was going to go get them Taco Bell. When my ex said something about the food we brought he was told his mother didn't want to eat it. He went into the TV room to talk to her. Turned out she was furious because I had not personally asked her to eat the sandwiches. We ended up leaving so I grabbed the sandwiches from the fridge and we went home. When we got there, his mother called mad that I had taken the sandwiches with me. Apparently I had given and then taken back, even though the original grievance was that I had not technically "given". It became a huge fight between me and my ex. (I'm sure at this point you aren't surprised he became an ex.)
It could also be that I still have a picture of "house parties" in my head straight out of my early drinking days. The college kind where no good comes of them and sometimes police show up. The house parties I get invited to these days are no where near this kind, but hey, anxiety is not rational. Anyway, I have a very serious fear of getting arrested. For obvious reasons, but also because of an online publication called the Commitment Report. I don't know if this exists every where, but in Peoria County, when you get arrested your mugshot and details of your offense are on this report and published everyday at 7am. And almost everyone I work with looks at this report daily. So you can't keep an arrest secret. This has made me a pretty cautious person and I was pretty cautious to begin with.
So, I don't really know what it is that causes me to have anxiety over hanging out at other people's homes, other than I feel like I don't know how to act. I don't offer to help with anything because what if I do it different. The decision to take shoes off...ugh....At some houses this is obvious and others don't care. And then what if I DO have to go to the bathroom? I really do have the bathroom issues mentioned above.
Any way, Josh is pretty understanding that regardless of the reason, more than likely I am not going to attend parties at other people's homes.
Besides family. Yesterday's birthday party was at my mom's and she has a really small house so parties at her house are usually primarily outsize (but we can use the bathroom indoors). Of course, the day we decide to hang out at her house we have the coolest day of the summer/fall. I was really cold sitting at home waiting to leave. I wore a hoodie and Josh wore long underwear. Mom had a bonfire going.
Before we left home, I was outside taking these pictures by our front door.
Rizzoli didn't like me being on that side of the door so she was yelling at me from inside. I was so caught up looking for the spider when it had crawled away that the first time Rizzoli meowed at me I screamed because she was loud and scared me. It was pretty funny.
Anyway, the reason I tell you this is because my sister is very afraid of spiders. So, I show her the picture and she has a small freak out. A little while later she has another small freak out when there is a spider on the front of her shirt. My mom laughs and says, "My word! That is the size of a flea," and my sister responds by saying, " I killed it myself!"
This statement caught my dad as particularly funny and he started cracking up laughing. I didn't get the camera ready in time to get the full on laugh, so here is the end of it. He was very tickled. He cried.
As the weekend is coming to a close, my household is mourning the loss of the first Chicago BEARS regular season game which also happened to be our first match up against our biggest rivals, the Green Bay Packers. Don't ask us what we think of our quarterback. My feelings for him are similar to my feelings for my ex's mother.
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