
I’m headed down the hill Friday to spend the night at our daughter’s place so I can go to a CaBi Party she’s hosting...now, if you’re not familiar with the concept, CaBi makes clothes for young professional women who are tall and slim and look good in absolutely anything. I’ve tried on the clothes and they’re not for me, but I love going to the parties and watching all these gorgeous young women who are all smarter and thinner and taller than I could ever hope to be, trying on beautiful clothes, drinking wine, gossiping and having so much fun. It’s addictive, being around people who are enjoying themselves, and I’m looking forward to a day away from the computer.

Of course, I’ll probably go into withdrawal without my Internet or the book I’m working on, but taking a break is good for the muse, so I’ll do it. The weird thing is, whenever I take a day away like this I really have to talk myself into going. I’m excited about going, I know I’ll have a wonderful time and I know my husband will survive a night by himself. The story will be here when I get back, the flowers won’t die in the yard, the houseplants won’t lose all their leaves, and I’ll still have to force myself to get into my little pickup and make that hour long trip to town. I’m planning to stop at the bookstore, maybe make a trip to the mall. Want to go by the toy shop where I buy my little stuffed wolves for promotional give aways—point being, it’s a day away with lots of fun things in store and I’m still thinking of reasons to stay home and not go!

I think I know why, of course. I’ve become addicted to the fantasy worlds in my stories. It’s so much easier to stay locked in the worlds of my own creation that I’ve become a terrible hermit. It’s funny, in a way, because I used to love to be in the middle of everything, talking a mile a minute, a veritable social butterfly. Now I have to force myself to get out and about, even though I always have fun once I peel myself away from my office. I wonder how much of my change has to do with the online friends I’ve made, and the fact that I find such satisfaction in those friendships that I don’t feel the need to get out with real groups of people? What about you? Do you enjoy getting out and meeting new people? Or when given a choice, do you prefer the quiet spot at home with a good book or your computer?
Writing this is making me realize how little I actually interact with live bodies anymore—at least live ones in person. I think I need to think about this a bit more...while I’m at the party. I’m going. Really.