Friday, 4 November 2011
If there is one thing I really don't like in life it's a party. I am just not a fun person. There are some we have to attend - weddings for example - those I enjoy to a point i.e. when the food has been consumed and the speeches done. I love the speeches. But when the awful ear-splitting music begins I long to sign out. What is the purpose of the rest of the evening when you can no longer hold a conversation? There is no 'real' dancing any more, just bopping about. I have often made excuses and escaped to the garden of the venue where I study the plants by moonlight and keep looking at my watch. My husband retreats to the bar where he seems to enjoy himself. This week-end we have to attend a 21st. No getting out of it, although we will know hardly anyone, least of all the girl herself. Well, we knew her as a little girl.... but her parents have attended our children's birthdays and weddings so we have to go. NB - even these personal occasions were boring for me after an hour or two. Now we have to dress up: Gatsby. We both dislike this but we must make an effort - perhaps a few minimal accessories will do. And maybe we can come home early. I shall plead ill-health. Are we boring? I don't think so - I thoroughly enjoyed an evening of 'Trivial Pursuit' recently, and once we stayed at a dinner party until 2.00 a.m. - the company was so interesting, I didn't even realise it was so late! Next month it's my Book Club's annual Christmas dinner: I don't want to go but I it's my duty. We are a central core of regulars and all the other ladies seem to enjoy the night out. We don't even mention books and you can only talk to the people on either side of your seat. The noise level can be loud as a party. Sigh! .... Oh dear, what a whinger I am! Still I feel better for seeking cyber sympathy.