Tonight I'm skipping a couple of holiday parties. Both my running club and the company I work for are having holiday parties this evening and I just can't seem to muster up the enthusiasm to attend either one.
The problem with the work party is pretty obvious. Have you ever been to a party filled with computer programmers, IT support folks and technical support engineers? I have. It's less exciting than it sounds. The technical writers are always the most interesting people, but they usually have better things to do than attend these sorts of events. Bastards. Although the folks in my work group are a friendly lot, none of them are attending, so if I went to the party, I'd be spending the evening debating whether to make painful chit-chat with boring acquaintances or just staring at the wall. The wall usually wins.
Of course the entertainment value skyrockets once the dancing starts, but watching this is a perverse kind of pleasure, not unlike viewing a train wreck, assuming that trains in your town move in rhythmless spasms.
The other party tonight is being thrown by my running club. This party at least features lots of fit and attractive people. The problem, however, is that long-distance runners are, in general, really boring people. Now, there are the occasional exceptions, but, by and large, these are all people who have dedicated large chunks of their free time to putting one foot in front of the other, for hours at a time. There's a certain level-headed and overly-even quality that makes someone good at enduring marathons, but bad at being the life of the party.
Astute readers will notice that I am both a computer programmer and a long-distance runner, so therefore I must be king of boringville. I do seem to have worked myself into some sort of trap here. LOOK, A MONKEY!
So, I'm home with the wifey and the kid. It ain't so bad.