The Extroverted Introvert

Saturday, 12 August 2017

Apart from posting pictures of myself wearing articles of clothing and slagging -off ex-boyfriends (see that here) my time online is mainly spent watching conspiracy videos on YouTube and filling out quizzes. This high-octane life online has meant I’m educated thoroughly on Elvis Presley still being alive (and thriving may I add), which Rugrat I am and more recently, if I’m an introvert or extrovert. Because obviously why would I work that out for myself when I could let Buzz Feed tell me? I was prepared to receive one of two answers but instead, I got both. the extroverted introvert. Wow, I thought, I can’t even do quizzes properly.  Turns out it’s a thing. And, it’s me. Me to an absolute t. So, let me spare you having to go through the exhausting job of clicking a box ten times when you could mindlessly scroll through this post to find out if you’re a walking contradiction like me? Or you could learn about Elvis Presley’s new job as a groundskeeper? I understand if you choose the latter.

So, what is an Extroverted Introvert? Well, me. Let me tell you charming qualities of an extroverted introvert the only way how by being self-deprecating and going off on huge tangents; enjoy.

Hi my name is Francesca and I’m the flakey friend

My life is pretty much a metaphor for that scene in ‘The Grinch Who Stole Christmas’ when the Grinch is trying on some ‘#ootds’ for the Holiday Cheermiester: “ooh” “aah” “…. that’s it I’m not going”. I could be locking up the house, ready to jump in my Uber after weeks of looking forward to an event, to be hit with the “…. that’s it I’m not going”. My most poignant Grinch moment must be my birthday last year, when I decided I did not want to attend my own birthday. For no other reason, other than Grinch. I then told my friends I would only go out if I could wear my dungarees, to which they dragged me to my bedroom and after multiple sighs I left the house, not wearing dungarees but something that definitely did not have the comfort levels of dungers.

I’ve been the flakey friend for as long as I can remember. It’s a horrible trait and one that I wish I could just brush off, but the second my brain tells me that your new outfit is far more suited for watching Ant and Dec's Saturday night takeaway rather than Call Lane, my phone goes to silent as my friends can’t believe I’ve ditched again whilst I thoroughly enjoy the cheeky duo pranking the likes of Dermot O’Leary.

Yeah, I like to go out…. but I need to re-establish my sleep routine and have a skin care night before I can do it again.

When I came to university I was under the impression I was a “party girl”, god knows what led me to that conclusion, perhaps the holiday prior the student life where I went to Magaluf. I’m assuming I had come to the conclusion I was now a member of Geordie Shore purely because I didn’t ask my dad to come pick me up.

When I got to university it hit me like a tonne of bricks that weirdly enough I don’t like spending every other evening rolling into bed donner kebab in hand and my false lashes hanging on by a thread. I am the first person up for a night out and even more so if it includes donner meat..if I’ve had a week’s notice…and if I’ve planned how smokey my smokey eye is actually going to be..and wait everyone’s wearing heels right?

I am fully aware I do not sound particularly cool and/or low matinence and that is because I am neither of those things. I am not saying if you are an introverted extrovert you automatically are as severely uncool as myself but, I also am. Embrace it. Put a sheet mask on and listen to Drake until you’re recuperated enough from the night before, until you're ready for another gin whilst not feeling an inch of FOMO of everyone on snap chat stories “out out” seemingly who are all now really into grime music. You’re not a huge Stormzy fan anyway.

I will either triple text you or ghost you...

It is common knowledge that I am truly the worst texter in the world on average 1-2 times a week. It’s not that I personally hate you, I just personally hate everyone for those overall 48 hours and prefer not to be spoken to unless it is a meme, or a nice picture of an otter or a dog. But you may hit the jackpot and get in contact with me on the day when I’m a normal human being and can interact with other humans like humans do in 2017, and text back, maybe even throwing in an emoji or two. There’s no algorithm for it, some days I want to group chat with the whole of West Yorkshire and neighbouring counties and others I could struggle to talk to Siri.

But it’s not just over text. I’ve been like it since I was little. I can’t spend too much time with people before I wanting to be home again in my own little nook. I would wake up at the crack of dawn at sleepovers, reaching for my LG Chocolate to text my poor Dad that I needed to picked up as soon as possible. It became the tradition for my poor father to arrive at my friends’ houses at the crack of dawn in the car, with his morning coffee still firmly in his hands. I loved my friends and I loved going to sleepovers every weekend but I loved the comfort of my own house, even more, creeping into my house at 7:30 AM on a Sunday still firmly in my pyjamas and my shoes not put properly on my feet.

My family home back in Shropshire, and also my bedroom here in Leeds are most definitely my sanctuary’s. The second I’m burnt out from socializing I absolutely crave being in my own surroundings, but most importantly being in them alone. It’s almost as I need to recharge, and can only do that lying-in bed, listening to music before I face the world again the next day.

…..But wait I don’t want to be alone too long, I’ll get lonely
Yes, I said like my own space and that still stands but there’s only so many times Netflix can ask if I’m still watching, which paired with the reflection of yourself with the severely unwashed hair as screen goes to black for you to realise you’re pretty lonely, you need to shower and text back your dad (partly because this lack of makeup is seriously making you realise you look similar, but also because you haven’t spoken to a human in 27 hours)
You see, being alone and spending time doing my own things is what makes me happy, being around my friends and family also is what makes me happy. But being lonely satisfies about nil poi.
 Blazer: Zara
Playsuit: H&M 
Hoops: ASOS
Sunglasses: Ebay
Sandals: Public Desire


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