Seems to me your only problem is having a party all by your lonesome.

All by my lonesome.

Be there or be lonesome.

The path I've chosen is lonesome.

Two whole hours by my lonesome?

Why are you all by your lonesome?

She's all by her lonesome over there. - Go on.

I closed a case today all by my lonesome.

Hey, what are you doing up here all by your lonesome?

You know, just two years, all by my lonesome.

Bilbo found sitting on the doorstep lonesome and wearisome—there was not a doorstep, of course, really, but they used to call the little grassy space between the wall and the opening the “doorstep” in fun, remembering Bilbo’s words long ago at the unexpected party in his hobbit-hole, when he said they could sit on the doorstep till they thought of something. And sit and think they did, or wandered aimlessly about, and glummer and glummer they became. Their spirits had risen a little at the discovery of the path, but now they sank into their boots; and yet they would not give it up and go away. The hobbit was no longer much brighter than the dwarves.