Ah, now I haven?t said what it?s like at a party?That?d possibly be a good one to frighten/enlighten/bemuse people with, too.
Friend?s New Year?s party. We?re invited to it, but at least I know her house really well, and I?ve met a number of the people before too, which helps. I know where to park (vital), and where the front door is (also vital). She?s talked me through what will happen, which is great. I convey all of this information to hubby. What to wear?arrrghh. Can?t be anything too unexpected or new, otherwise the sensory overload from that means I?ll crash out after half an hour. I pick an outfit that?s very comfortable to wear, but it?s still not my usual clothes, so that?s a worry for me.
I get there about fifteen minutes after it starts, with hubby. Friend open the door, and immediately greets me with a social kiss. Arrghh! Can?t think for a minute ? total overload. She?s forgotten I don?t do the social kissy thing! Drat. Oh well, at least I?ve remember to say hello and say something nice about her outfit. This is important.
In we go. A wall of noise hits us?there are already a load of people here as they were staying in her house for a few days. And the smells too ? food, drink, perfumes, aftershaves. And there?s flickering flashing lights in the hallway ? those fancy flashing party ones, except I can?t be near them so I have to move fairly swiftly to somewhere else. Total overload! Help! Hubby?s immediately invited to go into the garden to get a beer by the husband of friend, so that?s me by myself for a bit. Eek! Ok, girl, think?what do we do at parties? We talk to people, nicely. Mind?s a blank?I know, I?ll find the kitchen and ask if there?s something I can do. Kitchen?it?s here somewhere?follow the cooking smells?aha, there it is. And full of people. Drat. I ask one of friend?s people-doing-the-cooking (don?t ask me their names - no clue who they are ? might have met them before, can?t tell). They hand me a plate of things. Ah, I?m now carrying a plate of things. They appear to be canapés of various sorts, but what sort, and what am I supposed to do with them? Eat them? Take them somewhere?! Out of instructions. Hmm. Most people would think to ask, but I?m temporarily speechless. Ok, I think I need to take them out to people. Someone notices I haven?t got a drink and hands me a champagne flute with sparkly wine stuff in it. This is a Bad Thing as now I have a plate AND a glass, and I have to try to balance both of these and navigate a crowd of what appears to be total strangers. Some of them are saying hello to me, and someone kindly kisses me on the cheek. I now seem to be wearing some of the sparkly wine stuff. Oh b*m!
Some mopping and apologising later, and with the glass put firmly down, off I go into the crowds with the plate of thingies. Noise?perfume, people I don?t recognise who are talking to me?goodness me?and their Christmas tree still has flashy light things on as well so that?s another corner to avoid. Aha ? I recognise that person, that?s friend?s mum! And there?s the lady from the school run ? er, name?what?s her name?I?ve known her for eight years so you wouldn?t think this would be hard would you?aha, Sarah! Got it! They beckon me over, and we?re joined by two other people. This is when it occurs to me that I?m now involved in a Group Conversation whilst holding the remains of a plate of thingies and standing in a room filled with background noise and music etc. Now I have to try to switch attention between each person, which is horribly difficult and I can?t hear what they?re saying. I resort to lipreading, which I can do a bit if I can hear a little of what they?re saying, and it saves looking at their eyes too, but I have no clue at all what I?m supposed to say back to them. So many ways to get this wrong ? I could laugh in the wrong place, or fail to look surprised at something surprising, or fail to look sad at something said in a sad way, but I can?t ?hear? the tone of voice. Are they happy? Sad? No idea. Wonder who the others are?? Oh, I met them last year and the year before?oops.
This is more hard work than entering the Grand National on the local seaside donkey, it really is. I'm quite an extrovert, so it's not as if I'm just shy. I?m already absolutely exhausted, and it?s only been 15 minutes. I have to keep going for another few hours before we can leave without seeming very rude. Time for some emergency measures ? the disappear-into-the-garden-for-a-while trick, the lock-self-in-bathroom-for-a-while manoeuvre, and the find-hubby-and-just-talk-to-him-with-no-contact gambit. I also find a really interesting book to look at for a while, and find someone who?s an engineer so we can talk about engineering for about an hour. Someone comes up to me and says ?Amber, I don?t know how you stood that boring conversation for an hour ? well done!? Not sure what he means. That was brilliant! These tactics buy me quite a bit of time, and a glass of bubbly (in a tumbler this time!) helps. (We?re walking back, thank goodness)
Somehow, don?t ask me how, we survive three hours. Well, sort of. Hubby?s been fast asleep in a chair for the last hour (which he does when overloaded, but they?re used to that?), so I prod him awake again and we manage to find our hosts who by this stage have drunk rather more than one glass, I suspect, and who give me a really big hug (arrghhhh!). Hubby might have been hoping for a really big hug off my friend, but all he got was a handshake. I try to remember what to say ? but at this stage I could be coming out with complete nonsense, so it?s best to smile and nod and depart whilst we can, leaving the party still raging away. Luckily friend knows we?re not being rude if we leave early?
Next day, nothing. Just peace and quiet and favourite obsessional hobbies whilst we recover. We like being sociable, but goodness me it?s hard work for us, and at such a big 'cost', even if it's not very often.