I love the idea of parties . . . for me, an idealistic picture of inhibitions and daily stresses purged as a mass of beautiful humanity writhes together in collective bliss.
But I don’t do too well at actual parties, at least not indefinitely.
Years back, headed to a particular holiday function at work, I’m sure my demeanor could only have been described as giddy (if not outright chirpy), even droll.
I just remember so looking forward to amazing food and a few hours free from the usual fix of files, phones, and screens. Continue reading