RECF

The other day I was sitting out in Princes Street Gardens, just killing some time before an afternoon class, writing and thinking and this little old Scottish man walked past me and said, “Cheer up!” I smiled at him as a gut reaction and promptly went back to my thinking, which had been about how I plan out future interactions in my head and whether that was a good or terrible thing, and whether thinking about thinking about the future was a layer too deep or not.

I wanted to feel a flash of annoyance at the little old man- something along the lines of, “How dare someone tell me how to feel!”- but I really didn’t mind. I know that my thinking face is not a cheery one. I have Resting Existential Crisis face. Drives my professors nuts, because even if I’m following along and totally engaged with the material, I have this look of panic stuck on my face. It’s not the feedback one wants when one looks around the room during a lecture. 

Literally the first picture of me on facebook

This gem, right here.

THIS IS WHAT MY FACE DOES DAILY

Of course, my RECF doesn’t bother me at all- I don’t have to look at it, except occasionally in candid pictures. It doesn’t necessarily help in the making of friends or in portraying a generally approachable demeanor, but then again, that doesn’t bother me either. I meet my social quota daily and I don’t ever feel like the town leper, which I know is a low bar, but I’ve never felt a need to raise that. I was talking to one of my friends after class about how our friends from back home all asked if we’d made any friends yet. It's a weird question to us, like we're five again or something. “I like my own company,” she said. “A day that I don’t have to leave my flat is a good day.” 

I would like to register my strong agreement with that statement while also acknowledging that “good days” are few and far between and maybe that’s why they’re good. On the flip side, though, outside has been really pleasant recently. I’ve been able to sit outside almost every day and this weekend, I went on an adventure to watch a building being demolished... 

Specifically, this

...and met some lovely people and had scones and quiche, so that was nice. (By the way, shout-out to my high school friend, Clay, and Jonathan, who picked me up from the airport and helped carry my bags to my room and invited me to see this building blow up- instant old friends are one of the best kinds of friends.) 

I almost feel like these are the days that diaries are meant for- all the big events that you experience the first time you move somewhere new, all the people you meet before you settle into your friend-group, all the smiling at strangers and getting lost and rediscovering yourself that you do as you start again in a new phase in your life. It can be chaotic, like stepping onto a boat for the first time, and I know that I’m in this with plenty of other new people who deserve to have their well-meaning looks met with something other than Resting Existential Crisis Face. It’s a little unfair to be enigmatic at this stage, while the world’s rocking around us, but it's hard for me to help.

In class yesterday, I did a presentation, basically just a recapitulation and response to the reading. Now, I’ve done presentations. I’ve done talks in front of large groups of people. A stage doesn’t scare me. But as I talked, I could hear myself speeding up and feel my face turning red and my eyes focusing on my computer screen much more than the room around me. My southern even came out with one or two words, and that never happens when I'm sober and caffeinated. I rushed to the finish line and actually did a little curtsy at the end, as I do when I don't actually have control of my body or my actions due to intense nervousness, and I spent the rest of the lecture trying to cool down my face with my freezing cold fingers. Now, objectively, the presentation wasn’t an unmitigated disaster and I know the nervousness came from the complexity of the topic, but it wasn’t my best. And that’s a shame.

But then after class as we were walking down to the courtyard, two of my classmates asked about one of the quantum mechanical experiments we had been talking about in the discussion and I was able to clear up some of their questions and misconceptions. It was one of the best conversations I've had so far- they brought up really good points and great questions on a topic that was right in my wheelhouse. I think I would have cartwheeled all the way to the library after that, if I knew how to cartwheel. 

I know few people knock it out of the park on their first try. I know that I don’t have to expect that from myself. I know that I’ll keep working until my comfort-level with the material equals my comfort-level with presentations and I know that day will come. But my awareness of those facts did infinitely less to help my mood than the fact that I was able to do some educating after it all was over. So, thanks, I guess, Universe. You’ve done really well recently, even if my face doesn't always show that.