Nobody took a single shot. There were no FaceBook or Instagram posts the next day. And now, no social media evidence exists that this party ever occurred.
Pics, or it didn’t happen! Isn’t that the saying?
This no-picture thing wasn’t intentional, though. I think everybody was just too busy having a good time, too absorbed in the convos, too busy laughing, and eating.
Still, I wish there was a picture.
Housewarming Party
It was a housewarming party, held at night, on Groundhog Day, in northern Pennsylvania.
Ten women attended.
Chinese New Year was the theme. There were potstickers and spring rolls, dumplings, and crab rangoon.
Ten women spent the evening fussing with food, sipping martinis, drinking beer, and having deep convos around a hexagonal table.
Convos about friendship, social support, and the importance of having more of these kinds of parties. Whoo hoo!
There was one deep moment when we all realized how relaxed and happy we felt being together like this, on the occasion of this housewarming, and we said it out loud. To each other. And to the house. And to Anne, the new house owner. And I think we successfully warmed that house up good.
The convos got kinda deep and meta at times, though.
Someone even said so, and we all laughed.
“Go deep or go home!”
Still, I miss a picture.
But if someone had thought to take a picture, the picture-taking could have broken the moment
Because taking a photo involves freezing, posing, then smiling. For the future. For your FB memories. For TimeHop.
But what will you remember? The two-second picture moment? Or all the things that happened before and after the picture?
The next time you look at an old photo, test yourself.
What do you remember? Conversations? Feelings? If you were fully present and not distracted by promoting yourself on social media by taking a million shots, you probably had a much better time at the party, and will forever have richer memories.
Don’t be that guy who misses the mind-blowing majesty of Yosemite because he’s trying to get the perfect shot of Half Dome.
How-to Memorialize Our Experiences
Still, I wish there were a group shot of the people at that party, but there are other ways to memorialize and remember an event: photos, blogs, journal entries, souvenir objects, songs, paintings, and sculptures.
I have my journal entry to re-read, and now this post. So that will have to do. But I am wondering Why? Why do I feel the need to write about this party?
What are parties anyway? And why do we love some, and hate others?
I want to remember this party because my personality matched it completely, and that doesn’t happen very much. It was a conversation party.
I may have intentionally steered it that way a teensy bit, but no amount of steering would have had any effect unless other conversation lovers were there to return serve.
Parties are like improvisational theater. The host provides the setting, food, drink, and music, and then the guests arrive and choose their roles.
The extroverts, extrovert.
The introverts, introvert.
The storytellers tell their stories.
The conversation lovers, converse.
The animal lovers play with your dog all night.
The kid lovers make a mess on the rug with your kids.
The gamers play lawn games like they are a blood sport.
When you go to a party, you must immediately assess the situation and decide your role. When the party fits your style of relating, you will have a good time.
Then you’ll want to remember it in some way, so don’t forget to take a picture, or write about it in your journal, or tell a story about it at the next party.
Tell me about your favorite party. Who was there? What happened? What made you feel so relaxed and comfortable and happy?
Did you miss going to or hosting parties during the pandemic?
What kind of party do you hate? That’s an even juicier question, isn’t it? Have you ever hosted a disastrous party? Do you have a horrible party story?
What kind of people go to and love the parties you hate?
Let me know in the comments! I love to hear about parties!
Inspiration Location 