The last thing I like to do is go to large parties where I don’t know many people. Another thing I dislike is encountering people with whom I’ve had an embarrassing interaction in the past. But those two things are precisely what is happening this week!

As my blog sisters here well know, I am an introvert. I don’t mingle that well, I’m not a great conversationalist, and I tend to be a touch insecure when surrounded by people I think are more successful than I am. You see, back in college if I needed to go to a social event that I thought was going to be awkward, I could always bring along a good friend like Aurora, Snow, or Ariel to be my buddy. But they are not here.

So I’m in this bookclub. A friend of mine invited me a year ago or so and I came, and I was a little overwhelmed by how many ladies were there, and then my friend never added me to their email list even though I’m fairly sure that I said she should, so months went by until one time she brought it up and I said, “Uh, yeah…you should add me.” So from the start I felt a little weird that maybe I wasn’t wanted in the group, but that could all be in my head.

We’ve only met 3 times since then, and I’ve attended every meeting. I still don’t quite feel like I know the ladies that well, but I was getting fairly comfortable. I was fine. I was no longer stressing out terribly each month when the bookclub meeting came around (I know—bookclub…if this is the biggest stress in my life then I am kind of pathetic).

The bookclub then decided they wanted to use our December meeting to have a joint social gathering with the other bookclub on campus, also filled with erudite, accomplished women from our university or campus community (and none of whom I know personally). Originally, I just figured I might skip this month, since I wouldn’t know most of the crowd.

But then, they announced who would be hosting the party. It turns out I DO know someone from the other bookclub, the superintendent of schools. The problem with that is that the last time I saw or spoke to her was two years ago when I sat crying uncontrollably in her office. She had just told me that not only was she refusing my request for a student teaching placement, but that if I applied for a job in her schools, the best I could expect would be a “courtesy interview,” since I was so underqualified.

Now, she said this is the absolute nicest way possible, and she was never rude to me in any way, but the combination of disappointment over that news and some serious PMS that day brought on one of my very rare, but very ugly, crying spells. The kind that take 15 minutes to finish and completely ruin one’s makeup (and reputation). She handed me tissues and said soothing things like, “You could always apply at that other school in the next city,” (where I now work) and I walked out the door and never saw her again. Until now.

That was a very painful and embarrassing day that ultimately led to a lot of good. I did manage to find a student teaching placement back home, which I am grateful for, and I applied to that school she suggested and was hired, and mostly love it. But in the back of my mind I’ve always hoped that someday, when I had more experience, I might be able to get a job at her school (which is a superior school, pays way more, and is much closer to my home).

Some people might see this situation as a fantastic opportunity. After all, getting jobs these days is all about networking, and this type of party is prime networking material. But I hate networking! And a big part of me would stay at my same job forever rather than be forced to network at parties to get out of it.

It’s also complicated by the fact that it’s not just a matter of introducing myself to a potential employer. We’ve met before, but that impression is not really one I want to remind her of. It’s awkward, because I don’t even know if she will remember me. If she doesn’t seem to, should I bring it up? Or pretend it’s the first time we’ve met? Simultaneously, I’m not looking to switch jobs super soon, so I don’t want to come on too strong if I do manage to talk to her about the fact that I’m an available, semi-qualified teacher living right under her nose.

You want to know the worst part? The party is at her house. Her house. Of all the 30 some people invited to this event, she had to be the one to host. That means, in all likelihood, she’s going to answer the door, and then how will that go?

Let’s not forget that even aside from the awkwardness of meeting her again after such a traumatizing past experience and so long an interval, it would still be a fairly uncomfortable party for me considering that, best case, scenario, I will know 1-2 people well and 3-5 as acquaintances, out of 30 guests.

But. Guys. I know I have to do this. Dodging the superintendent in the grocery aisle is one thing, but when I have an actual opportunity to make a new impression on her (and who knows what other high-ranking, book-loving school officials) I think I would be a fool not to take it. And I hate that I want to choose to isolate myself rather than putting myself out there. So, in a sense, I’m doing it precisely because I know it will be frightening.

I’m just honestly hoping I can find people to talk to and have a good time, and hopefully she and I are able to have a normal chat that can start to replace whatever she might remember of me. I’ll drop in there that I’m teaching now and loving it, and she’ll smile genuinely and say she’s so glad I found something, because I deserve it. And there will be absolutely NO CRYING.

If that all happens, the evening will be a smashing success, and I will have faced my fear.

Stay tuned to find out if I can pull it off, or if I crawl back to you guys next week with tales of feigning a phone call and slipping away early.