I just got back from a friend's birthday party. I definitely have attended more birthday parties in my adult years than I ever did growing up.
Tonight (or last night, depending on how you like to figure things like that) was a shining example of why I don't do crowds. Okay, it wasn't as stellar of an example as the last birthday party I went to, where I had to take refuge in the backyard because there were so many people there that agoraphobia was kicking in, but it was still a pretty good example. I get lost in big groups. There are too many voices vying for attention, too many people I don't know, too many inside jokes I'm not a part of. A strange mixture of pride and deference kicks in. Something inside me goes, "Okay. If you want to talk that badly, go ahead."
I like my conversations to be one-on-one or three-way. That's the ideal I've found where everyone has an equal chance to talk if they want to. Of course, there are always exceptions. There are some people I can only stand one-on-one because they become inconsiderate when a third person is thrown in. There are even some people with whom I wonder why I even bother being part of the conversation; they seem to be carrying on just dandy by themselves. I met with exhibitions of all of these tonight.
Most of my time, however, was not spent engaged in conversation at all. I was people watching. The entertainment this afforded me was decidedly worth going for. People say some of the most interesting things. Okay, fine, I may have laughed louder than was strictly necessary sometimes, but come on, I've been home all week talking to myself. I'd rather laugh too much than not at all.
This post doesn't really seem to be going anywhere in my head. Hm...
Listening to: "Dirty Little Secret" by The All-American Rejects
Reading: Inkheart by Cornelia Funk