The yearly party I've still never attended

A former coworker hosts a gargantuan party every year around this time. I don't know if she bills it as a Christmas party, a holiday party, or perhaps a Solstice party. Neither designation would surprise me. I've been invited more than once. As of today, I've never been. Her party this year is tonight, I just learned. I no longer receive an invitation although there's no doubt that the hostess would, should I actually show up, welcome me with open arms and declarations of genuine glee. In spite of my affection for this former coworker, my raging curiosity and assurance it'd be a fine time indeed, I'm not going this year, either.

Here are some of the things that make me want to go, while at the same time make me want to stay away. Keep in mind that, having never been in attendance, I'm merely reporting my version of what I recall as having been shared with me by past attendees.

• Reportedly there are usually about 100 guests in attendance. Even in a big house, that's a honkin' lot of people to rub shoulders with.
• Because of hostesses love for people and rapt attention to whatever's in front of her at any given moment, the likelihood that I'd actually be able to visit with said hostess for more than, oh, maybe 7 minutes tops, is close to nonexistant. Kind of like the bride at the long-awaited wedding.
• People are encouraged to bring their musical instruments. And they do. Creating numerous opportunities to break into song throughout the day/evening.
• In spite of the fact that most guests bring food, apparently it's expected that all will line up in the hall to await the hostesses announcement for the time to eat, thereby making the flow of food-to-be-partaken less natural and comfortably rhythmic. The wait is, I'm told, rather noticeable.
  

As I write about the party I won't be attending, I'm feeling more and more glad I am not going and more and more wistful that I were. Hopefully it'll be her best and happiest year yet. No doubt I'll get a few reports and they'll have to hold me until next year when maybe - just maybe - I'll make plans to go. Imagine the blog entries I'll glean...

Comments

[Margot]

We did brave the party, as promised. We arrived late and left early. Luckily, there was no unbearably long line to partake of the various food offerings available. Perhaps we timed our arrival correctly - early enough for there to be good eats left, late enough not to stand in line for them. We received a hug from the much beloved hostess who 2 milliseconds after greeting us told us about a friend of hers (with whom we are not acquainted) who had just returned from 8 months in China and how terribly excited she was to talk to her friend about her adventures. From anyone else, it might feel like something of a slight. But we know to expect this sort of (lack of) attention span from our friend and no offense was or ever would be taken.

There were, as is customary, people from the various aspects of our hostess' life, some we knew, some who were strangers to us. There were several children of the rambunctious boy type there, with no apparent adult supervision. In a crowded house, this didn't play very well. Maybe I was the only one concerned/annoyed by their activity. No one commented on the seemingly disruptive behavior.

I am glad I have an entire year to decide whether or not I will attend next year. And not getting an invitation is no reason to stay away, Miss Melody. She may have tried emailing you at one of your former addresses - like the one at school. She's not so big on email!

[Melody]

See! Now I got to live vicariously through you and I won't let it bother me one more second that I didn't get to go. Thanks for reporting back.

Rambunctious boy types...hm. I find that I quite enjoy the one in my family, and the few children of very good friends, but the others, only in very small doses.