The problem last night was that I felt disconnected. Not at the very beginning, because people seemed happy to see me; it was during the movie that this feeling emerged. There I was, in my little bubble, turned from metaphor into reality by the round wooden bottom of Tom's fouton in which I sat. If I happened to glance back, I'd catch a glimpse of Meghan and Sam, cuddling, on the couch in the back. Heather and Kat sat together on the cushioned seat of the fouton. It was almost as if I had further isolated myself from the group by choosing that very bubble. But then again, I still felt isolated once I was out. I guess it was the people? Maybe the combination of them? I felt that if a few particular other people had been there, it would have been a lot better. And very different.

So did I have a great time last night? No.
It was bearable, I suppose, but I wouldn't like to repeat it.
It did get better once Dave got there, though.