Get out of the car.

I really don't enjoy being in a situation where I do not know a majority of the company present. When I first moved to Arizona I was forced to do this on a weekly basis. I was constantly forcing myself to get out of the car and walk into my own personal version of torture. Ok, maybe torture is too strong. So how about a different metaphor. It was like going to the dentist. That's it. Slightly painful and not overly enjoyable until the very last few minutes.

The thing is that in these situations, I know that I will be fine... eventually. I’m just really good at arguing with myself. Often the discussion goes a little something like this:

Ginger: You need to get out of the car and go into this Bible Study.
Ginger: But I don’t know anyone in there..
Ginger: That’s WHY you are going. So you can make some friends.
Ginger: But I have friends.
Ginger: Um, it doesn’t count if they are 18 hours away.
Ginger: I know, but what if these people...
Ginger: Stop making excuses.
Ginger: You know, I’m probably at the wrong place. I don’t see many cars. I should just go.
Ginger: GET OUT OF THE CAR.
Ginger: Ok!! I’m going! Gosh! (Yes, I say gosh.)

I’m getting pretty good at getting out of the car. So good, that I’m picking up quite a few new things this year. 2009 has officially become my break-out-of-my-introverted-shell-for-good year. Because really, I’m not a turtle, so I’m ditching the shell already. I’ve joined a small group, spoken for a college ministry, run a 5K with my running group, put together some Ikea furniture, and even tasted sushi for the first time. 2009 has been big and we’re really only a few weeks in.

But this Wednesday night I’m about to push my limits again. Somehow I’ve agreed to attend a Hip Hop dance class. I’ve gone to dance classes before, but the last one was in college and I was a theatre major…so come on, dance was a given. But me being graceful or remotely capable of HIP HOP?? Dancing is not my spiritual gift. I’m great at car dancing, but learning a routine in a room full of tiny, blonde, coordinated women? Dear Lord.

Help me get out of the car.

I will let you know how it goes. Maybe I will sneak in my camera.