I refuse to party like a Rockstar……
Anti-social is not a strong enough term to describe me. I avoid all parties like the plague. The thought of having to socialize with people who most likely will bore me is something I choose not to do. I guess I am just not “fun” in the traditional sense. I miss Christmas parties, Halloween parties, birthday parties, and keg parties.
The Birthday Party – Oh boy, someone is turning another year older. Let me pick up a useless gift and watch you open it and feign surprise and delight at that new As Seen on TV product I got you. Most likely you will be drunk and telling everyone how much you love them in slurred speech. As you get to be the center of attention, I will sit on the sidelines analyzing your friends and wondering what you see in them.
The Halloween Party – I have a costume fetish, so in theory Halloween party would be the perfect place to show off an outfit, well…. outside of the bedroom. Unfortunately, no matter how original you think you are being, someone shows up wearing the same fucking costume as you. Of course, in my case, it is always some hot chic who sluts up the costume in a way that makes my somewhat sexy outfit look like a nun’s habit.
The Kegger – First off, the only beer people buy in kegs is shit, like Budweiser and Coors. As previous posts have indicated, I am a beer snob. Where is my keg of Guinness or Killian’s Irish Red, or anything that has actual flavor??? So from the get go, I am destined to be unhappy. I am not chipping in $5 to drink nasty-ass beer from a red cup. I have not done a keg stand, and the last time I did a funnel I was 14! I did not even play beer pong until I was 30. Inevitably, I always end up babysitting drunk-ass people whom I feel some parental responsibility for.
The Christmas Party – I actually attended a Christmas party this year. Technically, I am an atheist. If I were a devout atheist, I would shun Christmas all together, or celebrate it as Festivus or something. But, we were doing a Yankee swap, and I like presents (I ended up with an automatic soap dispenser). When I think of all the Christmas parties I have attended for various things, all that comes to mind is some drunk guy copping a feel. This year was no different. I do not know what it is about Christmas party drunks, but in their minds, they must be thinking “Oh she is fat, I can grab her and she will like it!” Idiots.
So why does the thought of going to a party set me on edge? I am the type of girl that has a million acquaintances and almost no friends. I think attending a party when I am not really “friends” with the person inviting seems inane. I would have very little to say to that person, let alone the entire roomful of people I do not know. I tend to be very introspective all the time. I cannot get away from my own mind long enough to hold a casual conversation with another human being. Everything I want to talk about is so much deeper than party chatter. I guess I am a mood-killer in that way. I also am not a fan of getting drunk and acting stupid, which seems to be the main theme of every party. Do not get me wrong, I love to drink, in that almost-an-alcoholic-but-not-quite way.
I really am a lot of fun, in a one-on-one setting. I have all the qualities of someone who is the life of the party, but just on a smaller level. I always hear how I missed a great party, but I know the misery I will feel once I get there. I’d much rather enjoy an evening with one other fabulous person that is filled with good conversation and memories, than a roomful of people I will forget. So please, do not invite me to your parties, I really do not want to go.