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The Choice USA cocktail party happened last night in our apartment despite the snow, slush, cold, and general miserableness of the weather. Turnout was pretty good: we had about ninety people show up, and a reasonably good time was had by all. Choice USA provided plenty of wine, cheese, and hors d'oeuvres.
Outright haranguing of the masses was kept to a minimum, although there were a few short speeches. The main goal of the party was to promote their existence among women in their target demographic. They may also have raised some money, although I think it was more important to them to lay the foundation for future fund-raising.
Aside from the general strangeness of actually having ninety people (including Gloria Steinem and her main squeeze) in our apartment, there were some specific oddities. Of course, there is the required photo of me and my wife flanking Gloria. My mother-in-law also appeared to have become best friends with Ms. Steinem in the course of the evening. My button that reads, "So you're a feminist . . . isn't that cute?" was received much better than I thought it would be. And so on.
Maybe the weirdest thing about it was that I was charming and witty and unexpectedly the hit of the party. I don't say that to brag, although there's no way to say it and not have it sound that way. But it was strange because it's so much the opposite of how I see myself. I met new people, made small talk, made myself helpful, and was totally at ease amidst this horde of strangers. And maybe it doesn't make sense to put it this way, but it was even unsettling to think about how natural it seemed for most of the evening. (It was a lot of work, too, but I didn't notice that until the party was wrapping up.)
I've written in here at great length about how meeting people makes me feel awkward. What I'm starting to see is that being that kind of person is a lot of my identity, whether I like it or not. Not being afraid to engage new people is a good thing; but it means that I'm becoming something other than what I have been. I can't see what the end product will be, which is the nature of things, I guess. And while I'm trying to be excited by the adventure of it, the fact is that my inner control freak (who normally runs the show) is going absolutely nuts about the whole thing.
Anyhow, the apartment is cleaned up, but we have left the place laid out for parties, because we're celebrating my birthday on Saturday. (And we got to keep the leftover wine, too! *grin* )
Outright haranguing of the masses was kept to a minimum, although there were a few short speeches. The main goal of the party was to promote their existence among women in their target demographic. They may also have raised some money, although I think it was more important to them to lay the foundation for future fund-raising.
Aside from the general strangeness of actually having ninety people (including Gloria Steinem and her main squeeze) in our apartment, there were some specific oddities. Of course, there is the required photo of me and my wife flanking Gloria. My mother-in-law also appeared to have become best friends with Ms. Steinem in the course of the evening. My button that reads, "So you're a feminist . . . isn't that cute?" was received much better than I thought it would be. And so on.
Maybe the weirdest thing about it was that I was charming and witty and unexpectedly the hit of the party. I don't say that to brag, although there's no way to say it and not have it sound that way. But it was strange because it's so much the opposite of how I see myself. I met new people, made small talk, made myself helpful, and was totally at ease amidst this horde of strangers. And maybe it doesn't make sense to put it this way, but it was even unsettling to think about how natural it seemed for most of the evening. (It was a lot of work, too, but I didn't notice that until the party was wrapping up.)
I've written in here at great length about how meeting people makes me feel awkward. What I'm starting to see is that being that kind of person is a lot of my identity, whether I like it or not. Not being afraid to engage new people is a good thing; but it means that I'm becoming something other than what I have been. I can't see what the end product will be, which is the nature of things, I guess. And while I'm trying to be excited by the adventure of it, the fact is that my inner control freak (who normally runs the show) is going absolutely nuts about the whole thing.
Anyhow, the apartment is cleaned up, but we have left the place laid out for parties, because we're celebrating my birthday on Saturday. (And we got to keep the leftover wine, too! *grin* )
