I speak fluent weird

First, I am reminded of the time my sister, when she was about four, was having a regular check up with our family doctor. He and mom had chatted about speaking other languages. My said "I speak English and French" and our family doctor said "I speak English and German." My sister, unbidden, chirped "I speak English and I speak Foolish."

Well, it runs in the family. I speak English, I speak Spanish and I speak weird.

I was at a holiday party this week and kept finding myself seated with no one talking to me. There was one friend present who I was glad to talk to because he talked about himself and listened to me talk about me. So I surprised myself by confiding in him. I said "I know I am an introvert but I come to a party and see how I always end up seated alone and not talking to anyone and I wonder why."  He said "It's the same with me. I figured out a long time ago that all the talk I was missing was talk that bored me and that was why I am missing it." 

Just then, his wife came along and urged him to leave. I know her, too. And like her. She even checked in and asked me if it was okay if she pulled him away.

That little chat motivated me to go into the next room, sit next to folks engaged fervently in converaton and wait for a wave that I might surf into the converation on. What I got was talk about knitting, crocheting and quilting.When the craft portion of that scintilating exchange ended, I got a dose of petty gossip.

And I realized why I so often find myself alone at social events.  And why so many people have told me, when they do get around to talking to me, that I am intense.

I am only interested in talking about what is real and meaningful to me.

I want to talk about me, hear about others, what they are doing in their lives. And, I know, the persons who talked about crocheting and knitting were talking about things that matter to them. They are lovely people that I like.

I speak fluent weird.  That is who I am. So where are my kindred spirits?