Why I'm Bad at Holiday Parties

Last night I tried to go out to a holiday party. I almost never go out, for reasons you'll soon understand. Here's everything I remember doing:
  1. I ate a small pot chocolate
  2. A random gentleman at Walgreens told me he "respected my steez", and I too loudly responded with "Thanks dog, you too!" in the whitest way imaginable
  3. When I got to the party, I had to approach a young woman in Santa hat and say "I'm here to see the wolf" to get inside.
  4. I had fun running into friends and colleagues for about an hour
  5. I ate another small pot chocolate
  6. I ate two churro ice cream sandwiches
  7. I tried to do a bit with the photobooth Santa that seemed to make him deeply uncomfortable
  8. I forgot what I'm supposed to do with my hands during a normal conversation, then spent a lot of time panicking about that
  9. Next I spent a lot of time thinking about "what normal even means". I did this while engaging in long conversations with people from work.
  10. I then proceeded to make a lot of nervous jokes that seemed to only be funny or coherent to me
  11. While speculating about who the surprise musical guest might be, I remarked to someone "it would be cool if they got Ol Dirty Bastard". ODB has been dead for several years.
  12. When the surprise musical guest did finally come out, it took me three songs to realize it was Run DMC (they opened with "It's Tricky")
  13. I inexplicably fist-bumped Taylor Lautner then mumbled something about the movie Abduction
  14. I became convinced Run DMC was somehow trying to destroy me
  15. I abruptly decided it was time to leave and we'd just do an Irish Goodbye.
  16. On the way out of the venue I for some reason stopped 5 or 6 people I only kind of know to tell them we're leaving because we had to "relieve the sitter"
  17. I was home asleep before midnight.