Hi, my name is . . .

O.k., so, one of the things I hate most about moving, is starting ALL over in the friendship department. I experience some social anxiety. (I don't know, maybe that's normal.) It takes me a while to get comfortable, and to feel close to people. I had such a strong wonderful group of friends in my last ward, that I've been in mourning over not being able to associate with them now. It literally wears me out to go to things when I know nobody. It's exhausting to feel like I'm "putting myself out there." Yet, I know that I need to keep going to things and to keep trying if I'm going to make the kinds of beautiful friendships that I've been priviledged to enjoy in the past.

So, last Sunday I was home from Church with sick kids. James comes home and says that there is a BBQ dinner being put on by the YM/YW as a fund-raiser this Saturday (today). We put it on the calendar and promptly forgot about it.

Well, tonight, as I was passing the calendar, I noticed the reminder about the dinner. This was at 5:30, and the dinner started at 6:00. James had just been called in to work. So, I called him to see if he thought he'd be back in time. My social anxiety goes down dramatically with James at my side. He said that he had three different people to attend to, and not to count on him.

So, the debate starts in my head: do I pack up the kids and go alone? Brianna does have pink eye, maybe we should sit this one out. Although, I was just thinking that I needed a Church get-together to start to get to know people. But, this really isn't convenient tonight. It is for a good cause, and I haven't started anything for dinner yet. This would be a good opportunity to support the YM & YW in my Sunday School class, and maybe I would even get to know them better.

So, in the end, I decide to buck up, be an adult, and take the kids to the dinner. Because it was a fund raiser, I knew there would be a charge for the dinner, so I stopped at an ATM. When we arrive at the Church, there are LOTS of cars in the parking lot. I get the kids out and go inside.

We walk in and are greeted by a friendly stranger -- not uncommon, as we are still "new". So then we walk over to the food, and on the way, I'm desperately searching the tables for familiar faces. Not one. O.k., don't panic, just get your food, and look again as you find a seat.

Not a single familiar face at the food table. They're friendly, though, and I introduce myself.

After we get our plates and head toward the tables, I'm scouring the faces again, looking for ANYONE who looks the least bit familiar. No one. So, we sit in some empty seats across from an older couple. I introduce myself, they introduce themselves, and then they explain that they are from another ward, and had thought that their ward was invited. I explain that I wouldn't have known the difference, since I was new. They don't stay long, and soon we're sitting there alone.

Again, I'm looking at all of these faces, and start to think, "I can't believe that there isn't a representative from the Bishopric, or from the Relief Society in sight. . . . In fact, there's not even any of the YW leaders that I know here."

S-L-O-W-L-Y understanding dawns. This. isn't. our. Ward. party. Nope, we're interlopers. Oh. boy.

So, I gather our dishes and clean our table. I quietly direct the kids toward the place to pay. On the way to the payment table, there are plates and plates of goodies that are up for auction. I think to myself, "I should buy one plate to kind of make up for our faux pas." I let Ben pick, and he chooses a plate of sugar cookies, but before I can say, "Oh, my GOSH I'm embarrassed!" Brianna has swiped a cupcake from another plate. Then, Ben starts to melt down, because he KNOWS I'm going to have to buy the cupcakes, and he was SET on the cookies.

So, I grab both plates of goodies, both kids, and march over to the payment table. I hand them all the money that I had on me, which was a $20. I'm feeling like that isn't nearly enough, especially considering the two plates of goodies that I'm now carrying. The YW are looking at me like I'm an idiot, and, at the moment, I'm in complete agreement with them.

I'm ready to bolt out the door, when they say, "We need to give you a reciept." So, I stand there for several moments more, with two melting down kids and two plates of goodies, while they ask me for my name and address. Seriously? I just wanted to kind of melt away into the night, thank you very much. If I'd had another $20, I'd have offered it to them to just let me leave and not prolong my humiliation.

Before we got married, I gave James a "Get out of the doghouse free" card. He has held onto it all these years. . . . Tonight may just be the time to redeem that dang thing!