All righty, then. We've enjoyed our little gripefest and that's all well and good. But now it's time to put on a happy face and talk about fun our way. Knowing what we don't enjoy isn't enough. Now we have to identify what we do like, so we can be sure to do those things rather than just going along with extroverts' plans. Don't let anyone tell you you're incapable of having fun; just tell them what fun is for you.
I'll start.
I like ...
... dinner with one or two or a few friends. I don't care if it's a fancy place; it's all about the conversation over a meal and some wine. I also like doing lunch. It's a good way to keep in touch with people and it's rarely longer than an hour or two.
... going to the movies. I'm not really a film buff, I just like sitting in the dark and being transported. I particularly like going to movies alone; it's peaceful and deliciously indulgent.
... going to the theater (as long as there's no audience participation). This fell off my radar for a long time, but I have recently found a theater buddy and am remembering how much fun it is. (By the way, if the touring company of "August: Osage County", starring Estelle Parsons, comes to your town, I highly recommend it.)
... road trips, alone or with anyone, such as my excellent husband, who is capable of long stretches of silence. In a car on the road, I am insulated from anyone who might pester me or make demands or natter. The view is ever-changing and something about the motion sends my thoughts down all sorts of interesting paths.
... yoga. Not hot yoga, not competitive yoga, just peaceful, meditative, quiet stretching and strengthening.
... reading for hours. I rarely get to do that (and sometimes, after a day spent dealing with words, reading at all is unappealing) but the right book on the right day is bliss.
... sewing, knitting, and drawing. I love the concentration these involve, the creativity, and (if all goes well) having something to show for my efforts at the end.
... days when I don't have to go anywhere or see anyone. I am fortunate to work at home alone, and love mornings when I open my eyes and realize that all I have to do all day is sit at my computer and write.
... hiking. Alone is fine, or with the right companion. I remember hiking once with a couple of serious chatterboxes. I kept trying to get far ahead or behind so that I couldn't hear them, but they always caught up or waited for me. They will never know how close they came to being pushed off the mountain. A little conversation is OK, but I'd much rather listen to nature and the rhythm of my footsteps.
... walking. I do this every day for exercise, and because the dog insists. It gets me away from my computer and lets my mind stretch out.
... long, deep, self-absorbed, self-analytical, navel-gazing conversations with a close friend. A similarly disposed friend and I once took a weekend trip together and by the end of it, our jaws actually ached from so much talking. Not chitchat, mind you. This was 72 hours of deep, intimate soul baring. It was great.
Your turn.
