Is This Where the Party Is?
A lot of people hate parties. A lot of people, who shall remain nameless but look a lot like my family, get all mental even if you ask someone over to dinner. But I like parties and I LOVE having people over to dinner.
What’s the problem? Is it having to get out of the after work rut of dinner and TV or having to actually comb your hair after 6 PM? Who knows, but it happens and now I’m not the party girl I once was because of it and I’m bummed. I used to love to have people over for dinner but now between making the food and convincing everyone that it’s really going to be fun, it’s just too much work!
But, the dumb thing is that everyone does have a good time once it’s over. It’s just convincing them that it’s going to turn out that way that’s such a pain in the you-know-what.
My friend Sharon gave a party for her birthday last week, a Spa Party. Right off the bat, let me say, she really went for it and it must have cost her a ton of money. Looking back, everyone wished they’d brought her a better present because the party was sensational.
First, she bought kits for everyone filled with hand cream and body butter and good smelling bath gel; then she provided tubs for us to fill with hot water and soak our feet and hands to soften those nasty calluses caused by our long days in the fields. Next, there were more kits with loufas and nail files for pedicures and manicures, and rows of nail polish to try. There were homemade chocolate facial masques and sweet smelling Epsom salt oil scrubs. A massage therapist friend of hers was there who kind of helped us wrap our creamed toes in Saran Wrap and gave the birthday girl a foot massage while the rest of us watched enviously.
Sharon must have cooked for a week—there were orange and chocolate cakes, yummy peach cobbler with fake hard sauce, amazing caramel fudge, and thick and delicious pumpkin apple soup. There was also a caramel cake made by her sister-in-law that was wonderful. There were squares of pastry filled with melted cheese and ham. And two kinds of fruit punch. And that was just the front of her table; I can’t even remember what was in the back. Gosh, it was good. Gosh, it was fun.
I always like the ball scenes in those remakes of Jane Austin movies, like the fourteen versions of Pride and Prejudice, or Emma with Gwyneth Paltrow. Everybody is dancing around in their Sunday best and drinking punch, and it always looks so romantic and leisurely and, I don’t know, just cool. Movie scenes of old time parties with a fiddler and hay bales to sit on look great too, with the big array of homemade pies and cider and everyone hopping around to the tunes. The firelight is dim and people are excited to be out and taking time off from their everyday grind. Everyone seems to appreciate being alive and being with one another.
A good party should make everyone who comes feel like they’re really special to the host and that they’re being pampered for awhile with great food, great entertainment, and great friends.
However, when I mentioned a Spa Party to a couple of other friends, they assumed it meant she was selling something. Spa products. We were going to be treated well, as long as the hostess sold enough to receive her free gift. The Tupperware party may have ruined the party industry by making parties into yet another commercial occasion. Not that there’s anything wrong with Tupperware, or Discovery Toys, or Sarah Coventry or Mary Kay. Buy them myself. It’s just a little discombobulating to have to balance your checkbook before going over to someone’s house to get together.
Anyway, there’s my rant for today. Maybe Christmas wasn’t the only thing the Grinch stole from me. Maybe I just need to have a party. I’ll be sure to invite you.
What’s the problem? Is it having to get out of the after work rut of dinner and TV or having to actually comb your hair after 6 PM? Who knows, but it happens and now I’m not the party girl I once was because of it and I’m bummed. I used to love to have people over for dinner but now between making the food and convincing everyone that it’s really going to be fun, it’s just too much work!
But, the dumb thing is that everyone does have a good time once it’s over. It’s just convincing them that it’s going to turn out that way that’s such a pain in the you-know-what.
My friend Sharon gave a party for her birthday last week, a Spa Party. Right off the bat, let me say, she really went for it and it must have cost her a ton of money. Looking back, everyone wished they’d brought her a better present because the party was sensational.
First, she bought kits for everyone filled with hand cream and body butter and good smelling bath gel; then she provided tubs for us to fill with hot water and soak our feet and hands to soften those nasty calluses caused by our long days in the fields. Next, there were more kits with loufas and nail files for pedicures and manicures, and rows of nail polish to try. There were homemade chocolate facial masques and sweet smelling Epsom salt oil scrubs. A massage therapist friend of hers was there who kind of helped us wrap our creamed toes in Saran Wrap and gave the birthday girl a foot massage while the rest of us watched enviously.
Sharon must have cooked for a week—there were orange and chocolate cakes, yummy peach cobbler with fake hard sauce, amazing caramel fudge, and thick and delicious pumpkin apple soup. There was also a caramel cake made by her sister-in-law that was wonderful. There were squares of pastry filled with melted cheese and ham. And two kinds of fruit punch. And that was just the front of her table; I can’t even remember what was in the back. Gosh, it was good. Gosh, it was fun.
I always like the ball scenes in those remakes of Jane Austin movies, like the fourteen versions of Pride and Prejudice, or Emma with Gwyneth Paltrow. Everybody is dancing around in their Sunday best and drinking punch, and it always looks so romantic and leisurely and, I don’t know, just cool. Movie scenes of old time parties with a fiddler and hay bales to sit on look great too, with the big array of homemade pies and cider and everyone hopping around to the tunes. The firelight is dim and people are excited to be out and taking time off from their everyday grind. Everyone seems to appreciate being alive and being with one another.
A good party should make everyone who comes feel like they’re really special to the host and that they’re being pampered for awhile with great food, great entertainment, and great friends.
However, when I mentioned a Spa Party to a couple of other friends, they assumed it meant she was selling something. Spa products. We were going to be treated well, as long as the hostess sold enough to receive her free gift. The Tupperware party may have ruined the party industry by making parties into yet another commercial occasion. Not that there’s anything wrong with Tupperware, or Discovery Toys, or Sarah Coventry or Mary Kay. Buy them myself. It’s just a little discombobulating to have to balance your checkbook before going over to someone’s house to get together.
Anyway, there’s my rant for today. Maybe Christmas wasn’t the only thing the Grinch stole from me. Maybe I just need to have a party. I’ll be sure to invite you.
Comments