I came to my parents house in Georgia on Friday - the same day as their annual holiday party. It was very strange to realize that some of their staff were more comfortable with their house than I am. I've only visited maybe a dozen times since they moved here in 1998.
Now, part of the reason is that I'm allergic to Georgia, or at least to their house. Within 20 minutes I am sneezing my head off and forced to take antihistimines that render me a zombie for the rest of the trip. I think it's a combination of dust and mold. Against my recommendations, when they moved here they bought an enormous split-level. Of the 12 rooms, they use 3, sometimes 4. Which leaves the rest to just sit until someone comes to visit.
Back to their party - no use talking about the house... it's quite beautiful, especially with their new kitchen, maybe I'm just jealous.
So the party was alot of fun. Church people are funny. Some are so glad to have any special time at all with my parents that they treat me with extra special care. Some are very suspicious, perhaps because I don't visit often - and treat me with a coolness. It was nice to have a large party in a large house... like when I got stuck talking to a woman who was complaining endlessly about her life - I could run off with the excuse of being part-hostess.
I guess I'm going to have to consider the fact that I am a social person. My boss always tells me I am, but I think of myself as kind of shy. I guess I've adapted since adolescence. I definitely want to start hosting parties. It was fun. Really quite fun.
One more thing about the party, then I'll go... my parents played this game that they play every year... they ask everyone to bring a tacky gift. I'd often heard of the game, but never played it before. I realized something immediately - tacky is in the eye of the beholder. I started to worry that people would recognize their own taste in things that had been brought by other people. I heard people saying things like "that's tacky?" when fairly mainstream things where opened. The whole thing was hilarious to my parents and a handful in the crowd and somewhat less so to others, which left me uncomfortable.
But the Pope on a Rope soap was funny - a private daily audience with his excellency - that was just too much. It went to a woman who's parents had recently converted to Catholicism! (Yes, Episcopalians think Catholics are funny... I think they secretly think "there's an easier way!")
On that topic, I had a woman come up to me to confess she was born a Baptist. I quickly absolved her... the guilt that people carry with them about little things is tremendous.
I'm definitely rambling. It was quite a night.