Playing Games

Just back from a party with a lot of strangers at a place I had never been before. To some of you this may sound like just another Friday night adventure, but if you know me--well, it's something that would ordinarily cause me a fair degree of anxiety. Strange to say, however, I was not really anxious at all, beginning, middle, or end. We played board games.

The first one was actually a "bored" game, because let me tell you that if you've never watched a whole episode of Saturday Night Live, Saturday Night Live Trivial Pursuit might as well be from Mars. Actually, I am probably more knowledgeable about Mars. But that was the game that was being played, and I was a pretty darn good sport about it too. I rolled dice, cheered on my team, and read cards. I didn't even make an effort to guess any at all, though.

The second game was called Apples to Apples, and was really fun. It was simple to learn, absorbing to play, and just generally a good party game. I totally recommend it.

Why is it that I felt totally relaxed about the whole evening? Maybe because all those strangers just seemed like kids. Their own efforts to be amusing and fit in were totally apparent through all their various mannerisms, and I was sympathetic and filled with a sense of fellow-feeling. We all just do our best. I did my best too. Still a little awkward around the edges, but I'll get better with practice, I feel. I didn't even have to drink at all. I just felt okay with whatever.

Probably the other part of it is--after some of the things I had to do in China, my social anxiety circuits are just plain burnt out. What's there left to be scared of?

Even here in Chicago there are some crowds I'll never fit in with, of course. And I'll probably never be able to answer even a single question on SNL trivial pursuit. But that's no reflection on me as such. I sit. I smile. I project friendliness. I attempt small talk even with people I have nothing in common with. And frankly, it was a perfectly fine, fun evening.

Now it's nearly 1:30 in the morning. A giant silverfish just shrugged its way across the wall and I killed it with a several years old issue of Food and Wine. Pocket of Bolts is sound asleep, and my eyelids are a bit heavy too.

Today was a long day, and started off VERY sad because PoB's brand new bike was stolen--stolen out of the bike room in our (locked) courtyard! And the bike itself locked with a U lock. Vanished without a trace. It was extra sad because of how much fun we'd had on our one single and now not to be repeated bike ride, the other day. It's not the monetary loss, although that was significant, so much as the theft of happy good times. If you are reading this and you are a bike thief, please stop stealing people's bikes. It makes them really sad.