It's Not My Party

Parties have always seemed odd to me. Whenever I inform someone that I am going to a party, there is always an awkwardness involved, that the whole notion of me at a shindig is silly. I have known the reason for a bit, but have resisted it, hoping that it was just residual shyness. The truth is, though, I am out of my element at these occasions. The only parties I have really enjoyed are the ones where I'm drunk, either actually or, by happenstance, in a state similar to it. This, to me, is no way to have a good time; perhaps a fun time, but that isn't necessarily the same.

I do not synch well with the conversation; I'm usually not a fan of the music; the food is redundant (oh, a vegetable platter, how wonderful); if there are games or a video, there is usually too much outside chatter (I like to focus on the fun at hand, with only the occasional remark). Essentially, I feel that there is a running joke whose beginning I missed, and it would be fruitless for me to catch up. I am never more alienated than when amongst a group, and the larger the group the more pronounced it becomes. I'm reluctant to make a farewell to parties, but it has become more of an obligation than enjoyment. Thoughts to mull.