Erin, party-bot
So for the same cost of taking a cab back and forth to the airport, Laura and I are throwing a Thanksgiving dinner for 8. Our loft has been the set the stage for many a fantastic party, all of which I get completely anal about. I want everything to be perfect so everyone will have the BEST time EVER with the best food and the best sangria and the best people at the party so they'll talk about it for weeks. This, of course, is kind of antithetical to a party's nature -- they are supposed to be fun, and I am anything but fun to be around when I'm planning them.
My normal A-type personality turns into a AAA personality, and I become a whirling, cleaning, cooking, mixing robotic dervish, running from room to room witha bottle of 409 in one hand and my grocery list in another. An example: yesterday, I awoke at 5 a.m.; I had spent from 7 till 11 the night before cleaning our apartment so it will look all nice adn sparkly for the guests (guess I have some of mom in me...). With stray thoughts of items I needed to pick up at the grocery store and last-minute planning details buzzing about in my brain, I was unable to go back to sleep. So I got up, ran five miles, did my upper-body weights, wrote to Grandma, sent Nick a pretty pathetic donation for his trip to Honduras, paid my health insurance premium (yes, I am now covered if I injure myself in some kind of pre-party mopping accident), finished my grocery list and showered and did my hair -- ALL BEFORE NINE A.M. I rock! Then, after putting in a fully productive 10-hour day at work, I left at 8 p.m. In the next 90 minutes, I ran to the Manhattan Mall, Macy's, Whole Foods and Bed, Bath & Beyond to pick up remaining (cheap, don't worry), last-minut items for the party, covering 16 blocks of the city by subway and about 25 blocks by foot -- AND made it home to Brooklyn. Home by 9:30. I AM SUPERWOMAN.
Yeah, sure, I'll crash sooner or later. But it's nice to feel like I'm accomplishing something, even if I will likely give all my guests e coli poisoning. Hopefully my turkey (graciously donated by a party attendee) isn't a total disaster. We have a lot of interesting media superstar types attending so it should be a good mix of witty, amusing folk.
My normal A-type personality turns into a AAA personality, and I become a whirling, cleaning, cooking, mixing robotic dervish, running from room to room witha bottle of 409 in one hand and my grocery list in another. An example: yesterday, I awoke at 5 a.m.; I had spent from 7 till 11 the night before cleaning our apartment so it will look all nice adn sparkly for the guests (guess I have some of mom in me...). With stray thoughts of items I needed to pick up at the grocery store and last-minute planning details buzzing about in my brain, I was unable to go back to sleep. So I got up, ran five miles, did my upper-body weights, wrote to Grandma, sent Nick a pretty pathetic donation for his trip to Honduras, paid my health insurance premium (yes, I am now covered if I injure myself in some kind of pre-party mopping accident), finished my grocery list and showered and did my hair -- ALL BEFORE NINE A.M. I rock! Then, after putting in a fully productive 10-hour day at work, I left at 8 p.m. In the next 90 minutes, I ran to the Manhattan Mall, Macy's, Whole Foods and Bed, Bath & Beyond to pick up remaining (cheap, don't worry), last-minut items for the party, covering 16 blocks of the city by subway and about 25 blocks by foot -- AND made it home to Brooklyn. Home by 9:30. I AM SUPERWOMAN.
Yeah, sure, I'll crash sooner or later. But it's nice to feel like I'm accomplishing something, even if I will likely give all my guests e coli poisoning. Hopefully my turkey (graciously donated by a party attendee) isn't a total disaster. We have a lot of interesting media superstar types attending so it should be a good mix of witty, amusing folk.
posted by Had To Move at 4:22 PM
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