Irony

The Sierra Club could save a lot more of the planet if it would just stop sending me junk mail made out of paper and plastic.

Two things

1. Hey! St. Louisians and St. Louis enthusiasts! Tell me what to do! (see below)

2. Need some clever cuteness? This gal rocks. (I found her through work ... she's doing some freelance art for us.)

Meet me in St. Louis

A call-out to current and former residents and enthusiasts of St. Louis:

Silly Misanthrope and I are visiting St. Louis (and Columbia) at the end of the month for a long getaway weekend. We're staying in the Lafayette Square neighborhood Friday through Sunday, and will take a day-trip to Columbia on Saturday.

What's your favorite thing to do in St. Louis? We'd love to know.

"I" or "E"?

My friend Meckhead reminded me today of something I'd said two years ago, after returning from a week-long beach vacation with my very extroverted friend Foster.

"What's the difference between an introvert and an extrovert? An introvert will sit on the beach and enjoy it. An extrovert will sit on a beach and say: 'Isn't it a beautiful day?' 'What a beautiful day.' 'I can't believe how nice the weather is today.' 'Don't you think this weather is beautiful?'"

Most of my friends are extroverts. I appreciate extroverts, because they're spontaneously social. They draw me out of my shell. They get me out of my house. They always have something to talk about.

Most people think I'm an extrovert, because I've learned to do small-talk better than a lot of introverts.

Despite that fact, spending time with others still saps my energy.

I still don't say half of what I'm thinking because I feel like the conversation has moved on before I have anything significant to add. When I change the subject or contribute anything about myself, I feel like I'm committing some huge social gaffe. I often replay conversations over and over ex post facto to make sure I haven't said anything I didn't intend to.

I'm sure my extroverted friends don't even notice. I'm glad they don't.