Christmas
and New Year’s Eve were almost on them, and it was the time of year everyone
knew she would party, and party hard. This was the woman known for her parties,
whose home was synonymous with pot lucks and crazy gatherings of a weird cross
section of people. The sure stop for fun that people made their way to, almost
every evening. The one place you were sure to find something happening, every
weekend.
“Yeah!
Right!” She scoffed internally, “wouldn’t they be surprised now?” these days,
she was lucky if she got to go have coffee more than once every six months or
so. Dancing? The last time she even thought about going to a pub was at least
five years ago. Sad little western party clothes sitting in her closet bore
morose testimony to her complete lack of social life. “I suppose I could throw
a party at home, like I used to.” But who would she invite? Her entire friends
circle, once some 50 people in the core group, had shrunk to one and a half
person. One and a half? Yeah… the sole friend who had some kind of regular
schedule of visiting had become too encumbered to be able to get out to see her
even once in a while. And the half? Well, he was around, officially, but the
occasional phone calls were about the size of the interaction these days.
How
had this happened? She wondered. Was it just chance? Circumstances? A change of
location? Probably a combination of all of those. Moving to a new city had
definitely put a dent in the partying, and in the curtailment of the friends’
circle. The old guard from the old city, ready to party at the drop of a hat,
had been lost, and contact had diminished. Then there was the “settled”
syndrome. She, herself, had not succumbed to it so much, but the other seemed
to have. The other was now in the phase where staying at home of an evening, even
on the evenings when the offspring was elsewhere, rather than get dressed up
and step out on the town.
She,
she was bored. Yes, she enjoyed solo time, drinking and dancing and talking
with her other. But did it always have to be at home? What happened to the date
night? To those evenings at crazy, semi seedy establishments staggering out at
the end of the night, after last call, after closing the establishments? What
happened to getting thrown out of pubs and discos at three in the morning? What
happened to dressing up and going to brunch?
Money
was a factor, sure, and going out had become much more expensive than it used
to be when they were first together. But surely, they were not broke enough to
make it impossible to go out once in a while? Every couple of months or so? How
about just meeting somewhere for coffee? Was that too much to ask? Domesticity
was nice, and comfortable, sure, but she was getting too much of a good thing
for certain. As a result, she was becoming more and more morose, disinterested,
disconnected. Functioning perfectly fine as far as anyone else could see, perfectly
fine, smiling and laughing and carrying on as usual. But she knew. She knew the
disconnect she was feeling, and the dissonance she was experiencing.
Not
that there was anything one could do about it. Not like it was possible to wave
a magic wand and create a whole new group. Not like one could just turn someone
else’s mind around, back to a time when they were more fun, more outgoing. If
the other had decided he wanted to become the typical middle class domesticated
person, that was a decision she could not get them to change.
Where
did that leave her? Precisely nowhere. With the season of holidays and parties
fast approaching, she could look forward to evening after evening of sitting at
home, alone with the other, getting drunk, and watching TV. What amazing ways
to have fun! Throw a party? Sure, she
could do that. But as of now, the possible guest list stood at precisely zero
people. She had nowhere to go, nothing to do, and no one to invite.
Happy
Holidays!
