I don't like people. Really. If you were to ask Husband to describe me, it's just about the first thing he'd tell you. "She doesn't like people," he'll say. Ask him. He's done it lots of times.
Mostly, I don't argue with him about it. The thing is, I don't mind people. From a distance. How's that for a fine distinction? I don't like hosting parties because there are all these people that...stay. Long after I am done with having company. I am not a night owl. I am so much not a night owl, that during the school year, I can be found in my jammies reading in bed by the time your toddlers are getting their bath and bedtime story.
I don't really like going to parties, either, although it's a little better because at least I have the option of leaving (kinda makes that whole BlogHer thing an impossible dream, no?). I am really bad at party conversation, and pretty uncomfortable with the whole eye-contact thing. Shudder. I generally try to stay as long as I can, and Husband is kind enough to indulge me, though I fear I put a serious cramp in his party-going lifestyle.
However, in all this, there are two notable exceptions. One has been around for years, the other is recently discovered.
Been Around for Years
Allow me to introduce The Music Night Federation of Metro Detroit. Ta da! We are a group of 12-20 souls (depending on the night) who get together on a regular basis to share our love of music, food, and friendship with the coolest people we know: Us.
We started this back in 1991. I was pregnant with 16-year-old-boy at the time, which means we were toting around a toddler as well. Exposing your kids to good music and cool people is a lifetime affair. You can never start too young.
Here's how it works: A topic is selected. Some examples that we've used are school, friendship, protest songs, transportation, lost love...you get the idea. All of the MNF members come to Music Night with their selected tunes that somehow relate to the topic. We draw cards for order, and take turns putting our "cuts" on a mix-tape. Well, it used to be a mix-tape. Now it's a mix-CD. Actually two. Because we used to do 100-110 minute tapes. One CD is about 80 minutes, and some nights we have twenty people participating. 80 minutes won't always make the grade.
Husband does the engineering, Chico (of Chico and Chickadee fame) does the packaging, et Voila!
A few other things have changed over the years. We used to pick topics by consensus. That kept me up way past my bedtime. Now, we take turns selecting topics, and the selector gets the all-important 'lead cut.' Ask Rob Gordon if you don't know how important this is. And we've recently added a second generation of Music Nighters. Adult children of original members are now contributing and widening our range of tastes to include more than just Barry Manilow and Perry Como. We also have Tony Bennett, now.
For reasons of familiarity, I suppose, I really enjoy getting together with this group. I even like hosting them. When we made the friendship collection, I was tempted to make a teary-eyed toast to all the people I love best in the world and how they make me feel like a regular person, but I decided someone might take advantage of me in a moment of weakness and steal my cuts. And now, on to...
Recently Discovered
We had the pleasure of attending two Tiger Games this past weekend. Both against Oakland, one loss, one victory. Friday night's tickets we purchased ourselves. Saturday's tickets were by the kindness of Husband's secondhand employer (he works for an IT company that has a contract with a law firm). Every summer the law firm schedules a summer picnic and pairs it up with a baseball game.
I found myself - this person who doesn't really relate very well to people - actually seeking out conversations with others in the stands. Baseball conversations. Kyle Farnsworth is the name of the pitcher we got for Pudge Rodriguez. In '84 we saw a wave at Tiger Stadium where the top deck was going one way and the lower deck was going the other. Where is Todd Jones when you need him? Do you realize Frank Thomas is 6'4"?
I don't know if this is a sign that I'm changing, or some kind of idiot-savant behavior where I am socially inept everywhere but a baseball game. Or worse, I'm still socially inept at the baseball game, I just don't realize it anymore.
So what do you think? Where do you fall on the hermit/party-animal spectrum?
