I’ve been frantically googling The Case for Parties because I distinctly remember reading an essay published with The Rumpus or with Buzzfeed two years ago about making the case as you get older to go to parties, no matter how awkward or small.
Unfortunately I can’t seem to locate the essay, but I can describe the intent.
The essay described how even a party that may only have two people still has intention of togetherness, livelihood, living-in-the-moment. How as we get older it becomes more and more rare to be that way with others and how being in company keeps us young and vital.
The reason I reflect back to this essay is because I went to a party last night!
It was a coworker’s birthday and a handful of his friends, most of which I found out he met through OkCupid. But that’s okay! We ate crawfish and made punch out of an entire watermelon and my boyfriend and I got wrapped up in conversations with others about FEMA and comedians and the Dodgers and Ireland and literature.
I felt this buzz I haven’t experienced in far too long–literally, a buzz that erupts from my toes on up–from being on my sociable A-game where every joke lands and I can’t stop laughing at the banal conjured into meaningfulness. Example, one party goer arriving and biting into a glittery cupcake saying “So, whose birthday is it?”
At my job we spend a lot of time planning. Planning with financials, procurement, ordering, meetings, Skyping, preparation to the 10th degree. There is something so fascinating about the magical way that the world just unfolds in front of you–pure presence–and you’re a piece of the party and the ensuing moments such as when a neighbor wanders down the street looking for his cat and suddenly you’re on a damp sidewalk in the Treme beneath oak trees scrambling beneath an SUV looking for a kitten with black paws.
My case for parties is the purpose of being present, for being active and engaged with the world around us. It requires a little piece of everyone.