I am not generally a ‘party’ kind of person.
Honestly, if you know anything about me, you know this. I spent my childhood hiding from parties. In my room, in the woods, in books, and in stories out of my own head.
Once, I hid in a rabbit hutch.
Someone found me.
I’m still bitter about it, if you were wondering. I think I should have been safe in a rabbit hutch.
But now that I’m pretending to be an adult, I go to parties. Apparently, that’s part of the deal. Of course, I’m still an introvert who needs time to recharge and hide away with my books, but when a party comes up, I don’t run. Usually.
This year, I hosted a Christmas party.
I was so proud of myself.
My writers’ group had our first ever Christmas party together this weekend. We ate awesome food, drank sparkling cider, exchanged gifts, and talked about books. It was lovely. These girls are my best friends, my mostly companions, and my support group. They understand my strange rants, support my flashes of inspiration, and keep me centered.
I love them.
I was also apparently preoccupied completely with our party when it happened, because I didn’t take a single picture. Not even one, although I meant to take a few, just to prove that I can, in fact, throw a party.
I also had a work Christmas party this week. We played Whirlyball. Which is basically lacrosse with bumper cars. Since I’m not competitive, coordinated, or athletic AT ALL, I was a little worried that it would turn out to be an embarrassing experience. But bumper cars tend to level the playing field, and I had so much more fun than I expected.
Neither of these parties called for high extroversion or meeting a lot of strangers, but I’ve decided to count them as my quota this year. I have one more Christmas party with some younger siblings planned, then this introvert is going back into hiding. Until then . . . Merry Christmas!
Do you have any Christmas events planned? Tell me about them in the comments!