So, after my last post, some of you may be wondering: why did I spend my Saturday making an 18th-century gown for myself?
A town near me is having its 300th anniversary this year, and as part of it, they are having a tercentennial ball, at which period dress is encouraged. I am very bad at parties, but I feel as though part of getting back into the dating world is learning how not to be really bad at parties, so I’m trying this.
I am going alone. My guess is that the crowd will be on the older side, but I’m hoping to talk with some people, maybe dance, and try not to be awkward and uncomfortable.
I don’t do well in crowds. Once I have a connection with a person, an introduction, a reason for speaking, I feel like I can engage fairly well. But the first conversation is always awkward. I scrabble for purchase on the outer shell of whatever public face a person has up. I second-guess motivations. I feel like a drain — they are only speaking to me out of politeness. I look for the cues that say they’re looking for escape.
This does not really make me a scintillating conversationalist, I suspect.
My goal for Saturday, then, is to talk to people. To feel awkward and stupid about it, and recognize that it won’t kill me to feel awkward and stupid. If this all goes well, maybe I’ll (gasp!) go to a bar or a club some weekend soon. And hey, Arisia’s coming up in four months. Who knows where I’ll be by then?