I don’t like parties. I have never really liked parties. I don’t understand why people get together to do nothing in large groups. Occasionally I make myself go to a party because I think “I need to socialize more”, but then I always end up sitting on a couch reading a book. Then, other party goers feel the need to check in with me that I’m ok.

“Why aren’t you having a good time?” they ask. But I am having a good time. I just like reading.

The worst are dance parties. I don’t dance. I never have danced in public. I’m bothered by the very thought of dancing. I have danced in private with other people. But not in public. I think its obnoxious; not for other people, just for me. Its fine if other people want to dance, but I feel that for me to dance is obnoxious. I just don’t dance at parties, its just not my bag.

I think I’m done with parties. I just want to sit and read a book and play with a dog. Thats all I really want to do. I don’t like food tables either. I either end up grazing at them all night or they are disgusting with remnants of food mixed together in ways that they shouldn’t be.

What is interesting is that there is a sort of group pressure that begins to develop that targets anyone not fully participating in the party ritual. Its creepy and weird. You get pressured into taking part which then feels like a performance of the “party.”