Tom, as someone who entertains a lot, and makes it a priority to connect people, I'd say that's actually a host fail, not a you fail. I wish you lived closer so that you come over for the low-key things I host. I am glad you went, and I'm sorry it ended up with you not feeling good about it.
'Objects In Space'
Spike's Bitches 49: As usual, I'm here to help you, and I... are you naked under there?
Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risqué (and frisqué), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
I'm with Laura, Tom. You went, that's a win! And recognizing that leaving would be better for than staying is also a win. Good for you!
Tom, I wouldn't even go to a party where the only person I knew was the host. No way. So the fact that you went is actually a win.
It wasn't planned that way; I just wasn't sure who was going to show up.
Ah. Well, in your shoes, if I went to a party where I thought there would be more people who I knew, and they weren't there, I would have left, too. I don't think that's a failure of anything.
If I didn't know who was going to show up, I probably wouldn't have gone.
And I have literally just made a connection between my worsening anxiety over the last several years and my increasing tendency at DragonCon to just give up trying to get into panels, rather than make an effort. Because as I've discovered/remembered over the past couple of years, making a small effort works most of the time.
Ugh, brains. Why.
Not a failure, Tom. That is exactly what I would do...and have done.
Same here, too, Tom. I have almost always hated parties (except Nanita's, which are, as she noted, low key and socially easy and comfy), and at some point I just decided that just going in the door counted. Didn't matter if I spent the entire time browsing the host's bookshelves or playing with their dog in the kitchen or bailed after 90 seconds due to anxiety (all three of which I've done, multiple times)--if I managed to walk in the front door instead of panicking and fleeing before my hand even touched the knob (which I have also done multiple times), that was a worthy achievement all on its own.
ION, Matilda is in her room crying angrily, David is out on walkabout and I am exiled to the living room couch. Why? Earlier today I went with her to buy some clothes from a neighborhood consignment shop, and now her life is destroyed and we destroyed it. She is nailing the teen angst thing, and she's still twelve for another three weeks.
Tom, I wouldn't have been able to show up at that party unless someone I knew was actually going with me.
JZ, oh dear. Clothes shopping at that age with parents is so fraught. I remember my mother giving up at some point and just sending me to the mall with my friends and the money.