Just get over yourself, Moriarty. I used to be terrified of going out by myself, crippingly self-conscious and all. Then I got so f***ing sick of it - sick of missing out on the world, on making new friends - that I literally forced myself to carry my journal and book to the cafe and read and write -
in public!!! - for a few hours on my days off. It worked, after several weeks I wasn't making excuses anymore not to head out the door. And then after that I forced myself for a few months to go out to the bar for a beer by myself. Amazing, strangers would come up wanting to talk to me, and I developed a relationship with the bartenders (I'd bring them Lindt chocolat truffles and they occasionally bought me drinks).
I'm still shy today and could never just walk up to someone and start talking, but I'm nowhere NEAR as f**ked up as I was years ago. Oh, and as far as phone calls, screw that! At least you're not in the same room with them, right?
