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Maybe I’m guilty of putting expectations I make about myself on other people. Maybe I’m guilty of expecting too much from others without making it perfectly clear.
But is it really expecting too much to hope that people will have the decency to show respect to you and your efforts? Here we are, Mr.Circus and I, cleaning and decorating and cooking for our friends. We’re doing our best and working hard to make sure tonight is a great night for everyone.
And what happens? There’s a last minute unannounced invitation of two people we don’t know. Our friend who had offered and was supposed to be in charge of wine for everybody decided to book his return flight form NYC for this afternoon, expecting to arrive home hours before dinner. But, surprise surprise, his flight has been delayed, so now there is a last minute scramble to make sure everyone knows to BYOB. My friend’s boyfriend decided he couldn’t bring himself to get up before 2 so now he will be working through dinner. And, as I just figured out, the last minute invited people are two people who I do not really know, but the people they do know are two of the people who will not be here for dinner.
I’m hoping that if I get all of the bitching and complaining out now that I will be able to be in happy, party mode when people get here.
For now, I’m going to have a glass of wine, take a nice shower, put on my party clothes (debating going with my 1950’s house wife influenced getup) and try to forget the stress of having friends who aren’t experienced in throwing parties and therefore don’t know what goes into getting tables set up for 14 people or trying to organize an event that you no longer have control over.
Deep breaths.
At least the days are now getting longer!
Today I am cooking a turkey. For the first time. And despite knowing that turkeys are easier to cook than everyone thinks, I’m a little nervous.
But the bird went in the oven five minutes ago. In 6 hours, we’ll know how it all went.
Friends will be gathered round our increasingly festive table drinking wine and nibbling on appies. And hopefully mouths will be watering because the apartment will smell like mom’s turkey.
*my favorite wreath, and yes, my kitchen rooster (for luck) in the corner*
*the paper flowers I mentioned earlier, hanging above the table as a floating center piece*
