Growing pains

I'm officially a grown up. I should have known this when I stumbled into my 26th birth year with all the enthusiasm of a decomposing swan. 26 is just the wrong side, isn't it? Sure, I'm still young, but now 30 is a closer target and I can't get away with saying "I'm in my early twenties". I'm now in the mid to late twenties bracket, which is as good as saying "If I don't get my life sorted out soon, it all goes tits up from here."

I don't really think this, of course. My father, as one example, only really pulled himself together into a career when he was 30 or so. However, that is how the world at large feels. By now, I should be defining myself with a career, relationship and home. I have two of these things, but they are as focused as seeing through cataracts.

My career consists of trying to teach. I am not at ease with it for a great deal of the time, mostly because of my various social problems (i.e. not liking society very much). As for my home, I seem to be a victim of my own idealism (it exists) in that I just wanted to live in a place where I didn't have to hear street arguments or worry about people throwing cans of Strongbow onto my car. I forgot that every area has problems and nothing is perfect. My new home is actually an improvement; here, I don't get woken up at 2 in the morning by incoherent, angry voices from the next door neighbours. No, my new neighbours believe firmly in a 10 pm bedtime. In all truth, my ideal home would be surrounded by people who were do-nothings like me, all keeping themselves to themselves.

I think we can gather that I have a difficulty with the human race at large. Dinner parties or parties with unfamiliar people are like my own disaster, my own Titanic, if you will. Think of me as the unknowing ship, sailing through uncertain waters until I get blindsided by an iceberg-shaped social handicap and slowly sink beneath the waves.

I attended one such party recently. I'll say this first: everyone there was lovely. They were really nice and friendly and there was no problem there. My problem was that I realised I was now being invited to those types of parties. I'll explain: it was a nice, relaxed affair for a friend's birthday. Everyone was sitting down, casually chatting, helping themselves to bits of food. It was a grown-up party.

I've never really acted like a grown-up at a party before. I have been to parties with other grown ups, but there's a big difference. That difference was alcohol and mobility. The last party I attended was with a few people from work, but mostly strangers. However, everyone was drinking and laughing and it was a very much a party where you moved around.

The party I attended was more of a seated thing, so there's some social awkwardness right there, at least in my mind. For some people, casually chatting with strangers is an easy as breathing. I'm not one of them. That's not to say I didn't have a go, but I have this absolute, freezing fear of awkward conversations. I put it down to my inept social skills at secondary school which pretty much left me baffled about human interaction. My shyness comes across as indifference and then I start to notice I'm being shy and then I get even more wound up until finally I'm just a supremely nervous mass of stress, vibrating so fast people can't even see me move.

The other thing about this party was that it felt grown up for one major reason: no one was saying we should drink stupid amounts and do equally stupid things. No one said, "Hey, let's go to a strip club/gay bar/carnival!". People were actually engaging with each other in a relaxed atmosphere and seemed genuinely interested in what was being said. I cannot function in this situation with strangers, no matter how lovely, thanks to my aforementioned social inabilities.

I solved this problem with alcohol. 2 bottles of beer later, I ate some food. I then went through (I think) 4 vodkas and cranberry juice drinks. Quickly. I found I loosened up after that, even if I did pronounce "Seinfeld" as "Seinfield" a number of times. I knew I was truly merry as I started craving a cigarette and every other word became "fuck". My last clear memory of the party was of people complimenting cheesecakes.

I think my main issue (besides a burgeoning alcohol addiction) is that I am so used to being with people where I can see the line, it throws me when I'm with strangers. With work people, I know how to be around them (funny but not too offensive). With friends, there is no line. I say generally whatever I want. I think this is what I have become used to. Comparing watching the last 3 Star War films to being raped by George Lucas is probably not a description people at the party had heard ever before.

The problem is that it's my problem. Everyone was lovely and friendly. Couldn't have been nicer. Something in me, though, instantly turned me into an awkward, nervous mess, isolating herself. I freaked out because I suddenly realised, "I'm at a party where I must behave in a way that is not a free for all. I must not say whatever comes into my head. I must engage with nice people I don't know." This, by my definition, is a grown-up party, where you care about how you behave.

I think what really screwed me was the ratio of couples to single people. Officially, there were at least 5 couples and 3 single people besides myself and a friend. This is a greater ratio than I am used to. I have nothing against couples - I think it just serves as a reminder that I am not a part of coupledom and entry will be denied until I can work out what it's all about. I am starting to feel a little Bridget Jones.

So, I'm 26 and I've now started going to parties where you talk about holidays and other grown up things. I shall eventually acclimatise, I'm sure. A part of me, however, wonders whether I'll know when it's time to truly grow up or whether I'll be one of those sad cases who clings desperately to youthful fun well into her 40s. I hope it's the former as I can't see me doing a Peter Pan, after all.