Why doesn't everyone like parties? A highly philosophical and big-worded treatment of the paradox of funtimes

I have missed the last three 'parties' I should have been in. I was sick in the first one, bored in the second one, and 'will be' tired and other-things-that-will-justify-my-absence in the third one. This raises a serious question that I must answer if I want to solve my problems in life: why don't I like parties, and why don't girls like wearing kurthas, even though they are (apparently, of course) a lot more comfier than wearing other formal dresses with high heels?

It all comes down to expectations and real-life practicalities. My expectations from a perfect party are somewhat different from what happens in those that I am supposed to attend, a conflict of interest that causes cracks in the very fabric of the universe and can be solved only by the minor quantum fluctuations taking place that can transport photons and other similarly light particles into the future and past, and enable teleportation. Allow me to make things clear:

What I expect

A lot of people with diverse backgrounds, education and experiences, most of whom are progressively inclined, believe in personal freedom and will not consider me stupid even if I keep telling fart jokes all the time. They will talk, maybe drink a little, dance a little, talk more, laugh from their hearts, all this in a niice ambient restaurant that does not allow drunk and/or crazy people in. Then they will talk about their work, about their graduate life in UCLA and grad schooling in London, and their experiences in the middle east. Nice dresses, not necessarily formal or conventional, somewhat hippie. Funtimes.

 What actually does happen

A bunch of guys and gals divided straight away into two groups: those that want to get crazy drunk, and those that don't. The boundaries appear to fade away as everyone pretends to dance (dancing: flailing your arms and legs in some kind pattern confidently to convince people that you know what you're doing) to the loud unbearable music from a band you promised never to hear after...Everyone's mostly talking about nothing, and the others are taking pictures of everyone pretending to dance and pretending to talk. It's finally time to eat, everyone attacks, photoes are clicked, more sweats, party over; we had SO MUCH fun everyone, we should do it again. Boring times. Mehh!

Therefore, I will run away for as long as I can, and then they will catch me to 'rag' me and then get me to wear a yellow sari, coz' duude, my supposedly 'yellow' tie is not at all yellow but gold, and that is against the dress code. Have fun, you cross-dressing  brave man.