How the party doesn't suck, you do. ——— Parties are a mess. They're crowded, grimy, the music is bad, and the people are so "extra".
But parties aren't boring. They're also not fun.
So if you're at a party, and you think it blows, it's you, not the party.
There is nothing that can make a party the greatest time of your life. If you want to have a good time, it's up to you. Because despite the social anxiety, awkwardness, and raging hormones, there is fun to be had.
But it can't be found. It must be created.
Now I try to avoid parties at all costs because of this caveat: creating fun requires effort.
And I'd much rather make a tasty snack, load up a movie, and chill in my undies and socks.
But in the off chance I've got at least one buddy that is down for an adventure: game on.
The One Where I Stole a Baby
I received a facebook invite for a party celebrating a student show that was being produced, but didn't think I would go. I spent most of my night eating an entire box of Domino's pizza with my friend, Jill watching RuPaul's Drag Race (season 5 and/or 7). We were both not quite in the mood to go to a party, but we had had our fair share of drag for one night. So on we went to this shindig.
There were far too many people in there than the space could permit, but we squeezed our way through the various bodies.
Well there wasn't much here. It was a party, sure. Not necessarily eventful in terms of people watching, but a party nonetheless.
And I took my cue: we've got to make this a good time. We came all the way here and had to make it worthwhile.
I pocketed various stickers I found on the floor, and stumbled upon a roll of an orange streamer. I unrolled some of it, tore off a decent length, and Jill and I held it in between an entryway.
We asked people for code words, and a chance at limbo. Some people even used their arm as a hacksaw to cut their way through. It gave us a laugh.
We walked around the living room and stuffed in the couch, what do I find? A baby.
A questionable one, but a baby nonetheless.
This was a special child. A baby doll with a wax mask, taped over its face and around its head. Stuffing coming out of its body, and various markings from its time as a film prop.
This poor neglected child needed care. So I took it in. It should be noted that I am quite the children loather and do not wish to bear or raise any in this lifetime of mine.
I rocked Franky back and forth as I did with my baby from AP Psch. People did double takes, thinking Franky was a real human child.
Franky was very much real to me.
People asked me about Franky and Igloated about my paternal instincts and how great Franky was.
I even live-tweeted our family adventure.
BFF Jill and I played around with a beach ball we found, keeping it up in the air; me still carrying Franky.
We tackled a game of beer pong with empty cups, as I burped Franky with one hand and tossed the ping pong ball with my other.
And then, it was time for us to bounce. We wanted to grab snacks at the campus convenience store before heading to bed, and I had to decide: do I abandon Franky or take them with me?
Uh uh ermmm
I wasn't about to give this child more parent issues than they already had. The three of us retreated.
I wasn't exactly sure what I was going to do with Franky, but that was the least of my concerns.
We were on the run.
Yeah I stole this baby but it was stuck in a couch, helpless. Having recently watched the movie, Tallulah (starring Ellen Page, great film, highly recommend), I am comforted to know this is something people do: kidnap neglected children.
I bumped into strangers and filled them in on our night. [wpvideo 8poYwqav]
When I got home I decided to nestle Franky in my roommate's bed, to surprise her when she got back the next day.
When my roommate, Ana got home, she noticed Franky, gasped, and quickly looked away, "I know what that is. Take it out." Apparently she had been following my Snapchat story and Twitter updates.
After a few days, one of the creators of the show (of the party we attended) said the owner of the apartment -and of the child- wanted Franky back.
It was a bittersweet farewell, as I gave Franky to the arms of another.
I haven't seen Franky since, but I hope they're growing up into a socially aware young'n.
If there ever was a particular night that ever taught me "the party lesson", it was this night.
Sometimes it's hard to create the fun, but sometimes the chips are already aligned to fall right into place. So go to that party. And if the bad music, lack of food, and hormonal allosexuals aren't cutting it for you, create that fun.
For when you do, you'll be sure to have a really wild night.