In any situation with new people, I go through several now-familiar phases:
I am the stranger, the outsider who is Not To Be Trusted.
I am harmless, pass for tame, and probably dull.
I am more interesting than previously thought.
I am very
I am beyond interesting; I am weird. But in a good way.
I am even weirder than first believed, but immensely lovable and lots of fun.
Surprise! My good nature has limits. The awesome eruption was short-lived, though, and the apology and making-up came quickly on its heels. I am still lovable, but assertive when cornered.
I am still weird, still lovable, and rapidly becoming a repository of secrets, confessions, and core-dumps despite being a goofy oddity. Was there ever a time I wasn't one of the gang? Will there ever be a time when I truly will be one of the gang?