Last night, Steve and I attended a Christmas party at the home of a man who is important in his company. Honestly, I wish I could tell you exactly what the man does, but I'm not sure because I got confused while Steve was trying to explain. All I know is that he's an important guy.
(By the way: don't worry, I'm not here to ruin Steve's career by telling weird tales about strange things that went on at the party, I promise! One internet ruined career in the family is enough.)
Anyway, the party was lovely, and the host and his family were so nice and welcoming, and the house...OMG the house. It was probably the most beautiful family home I've ever been in. I mean that literally. It was a big, gorgeous farm-house and I completely fell in love with it. It looked like something Martha Stewart would live in. They also had these sweet dogs, one giant (and I mean huge) black lab, a springer spaniel, and two little fox terriers (?) who ran around looking for dropped food.
Anyone who guesses that I spent most of my time there with the dogs wins a cookie.
Seriously, what is wrong with me?
I am just not good at cocktail party mingling, I guess. I never really learned how to do that sort of drive-by, party chatting thing. I wish I did, because when I'm put in that position, I always feel like I'm doing it wrong. I don't remember ever being this shy when I was younger, but now when I'm at a gathering, unless I know the people around me, I feel like a bear in a tutu, riding around on a unicycle. I don't know if that makes sense, but that is about as apt as I can be. I feel clumsy and goofy, and like I'm saying and doing the wrong thing the whole time. I honestly tried not to do or say anything weird. It was harder than it sounds, though, because when I don't know what to say, I generally start talking about the first things that pop into my head and that is usually something abnormal. I can't help it! That's just where my mind goes when I'm nervous. I think I managed to blend in with everyone pretty well, except for one awkward second when I hugged one of the catering staff in a moment of not-knowing-what-else-to-do-edness. I'm sure he felt violated, but hopefully he just thought I was drunk or something. I wasn't...but still.
I know that some of you are probably thinking that I shouldn't worry so much about what other people think of me. If so...congratulations for having high self esteem and for not knowing what it feels like to constantly second-guess everything you do. I don't know why I feel this way! I hate it! I'd like to think I'm generally charming and easy to talk to...but it's like my brain switches off during these situations and after everything is over, I have no idea what I've said to whom. I'm going to have to start wearing a spy cam or something to record what I do so that I can at least know whether or not I should go into hiding for a while.
Anyways, I know I'm not the only person to feel this way, but I really wish I didn't worry so much. At least I know for a fact that I didn't destroy anything or set anything on fire...and that is probably the best I can expect in a situation like that! :)