At parties I have been known to display my great strength by holding up walls.
If I don’t really know people at a party, I have serious difficulty being the
one to strike up a conversation. I figure I’ll say something dumb, or worse I’ll say “What brings you here/How do you know the host(ess)?” and I’ll get caught nodding politely through someone’s two-hour answer. Or, my simple friendliness will be taken as “give me your phone
Once other folks lure me into their conversation, I’m comfy and cool. I’m ready to listen and add things as I can without dominating or being all “me, me, me.” But like a 7 Degrees of Separation master, and totally skipping the whole Kevin Bacon thing, I run everything back to Star Trek or Star Wars (the older ones, anyway.) I remember odd facts like who Bossk was, or which Stormtrooper was TK-421. I liked the Rancor monster and I always wanted a Tauntaun. I even know what AT-AT stands for. (All Terrain Armored Transport, which, actually, would be handy for winters in Ohio.)
And I know a shitload of Chuck Norris jokes.
* Did you know Chuck Norris won American Idol using only sign language?
* Did you know Chuck Norris has a farm? He does. His sheep are the ones that give us steel wool.
* Did you know that every night, before going to bed the boogey man checks his closet for Chuck Norris?
Ok, it’s fun for ME at parties. Y’all do remember I have a bunch of boys, right? Boys, oh yes I’m so thankful, boys. Else I might know obnoxious stuff about Barbie or the Bratz.