The GeekHiker

Ever had one of those weekends where, at the end, you felt like you should feel a whole lot better about the whole thing than you actually do?

Hm. Perhaps that thought deserves a bit of background info.

Saturday night I went to a costume party. It was held by my boss, but it wasn’t something I was obligated to attend (this boss just happens to be cool).

It was pirate themed, so I dutifully went to the costume shop and dropped $40 on a pirate costume, plus another $10 for some makeup for the requisite pirate beard. Originally, of course, I had thought of getting the costume at the Portland Pirate Festival, but given the prices, I’d decided against.

So, the cheap polyester route it was. I figured as long as I didn’t stand too close to any open flames I’d be okay.

Today, Sunday, I went with a group of people up to the little community of Oak Glen. Oak Glen is an apple-growing area about 90 minutes east of Los Angeles and makes for a pleasant get-out-of-the-city day trip.

The trip gave me the opportunity to get out, pick up some fresh apple cider (including raspberry-apple cider), some cider-apple donuts, a bag of Winesaps, an apple crisp (that will be heading straight to the freezer for later enjoyment), and enjoy some decent BBQ.

Now, on paper, both of these things sound like great things to do on a weekend, don’t they? Indeed, they were right up my alley: a little socializing, a little travel, some good food.

Yet, for some reason, the weekend just hasn’t left me feeling all that great, and darned if I can figure out why, since nothing went wrong with any of those activities.

The party was nice. I looked good in my costume, or so I was told. Friendly people were there, there were good food and drinks, even a band.

The last costume party I’d tried to go to was about three years ago. I say tried because the Ex Girlfriend and I showed up, costumed appropriately, only to find out that we were the only ones in costume. It was a costume party, but the costumes weren’t required. Evidently everyone else took the escape clause but us.

At least at last night’s party pretty much everyone was in costume, so I was spared that minor trauma.

When I first showed up there were a few people there, I started chatting around with a person or two, and it was going okay.

As the evening wore on, though, more and more people started arriving. A couple hours in, at least 75 people had shown up, the band started playing and, as I tend to do the bigger the crowd gets, the more uncomfortable and wallflowerish I got.

By the end of the night I found that one other girl and I were sitting on a couple of stools, watching the band and yelling comments in each other’s ears. Well, except for those periods when she was smoking a cigarette and I couldn’t stand the smell.

Without a doubt, watching a cute girl light one up always yields a “d’oh!” inside my head.  *sigh*

But then, everyone there was smoking, and smoking everything to boot. After a while, my ears were ringing a bit, my eyes burnt and my throat was getting sore. Finally, and the shamefully early hour of 12:00, I bailed.

It’s not that it was a bad party. In fact, it was an excellent party by all reckoning. Yet, I can’t really say that I enjoyed myself (nor, for that matter, can I say that I didn’t).

It just wasn’t my kind of party, I don’t think. The older I get, the more I accept that I’m simply a bigger fan of smaller gatherings, such as the gathering a couple of months ago. Yet, I can’t seem to shake the feeling that I should find the larger parties more enjoyable. After all, everyone else there was having a great time, but me, not so much.

Oh, great, I’ve got the personality type for wine and cheese gatherings. I hope this doesn’t mean I have to become a yuppie.

The feeling after the return from the trip to Oak Glen is even more intangible.

Again, not that I can say that there was anything wrong with the trip in and of itself. The location was fine, the people were people I’ve hung out with before and are fun; all the parts were right.

And yet…

The last time I had been up in Oak Glen was with The Ex Girlfriend, last year in fact. It was the first time either one of us had been up there.

On two counts, today’s trip differed from that trip: 1) I was traveling with a significant other, rather than a group of companions (I can’t really call them “friends” in the traditional sense yet) and 2) Oak Glen was a new trip, with the fun of traveling around somewhere you’ve never been before.

Problem is, I can’t figure out if there’s a connection.

Was the fact that I am home tonight feeling, well, not bad exactly, more just kinda “blah” about the whole day directly related to those two things? Is it just that I miss having a significant other, or that I’d been to Oak Glen before so it wasn’t anything new?

Or is it something else? Some other intangible I can’t quite grasp?

Either way, I suppose that there’s no real point in over-thinking it all. The weekend is over and my feeling about the whole thing is a collective mental shrug.

Perhaps some warm cider donuts and a glass of cold, fresh apple cider will help…