Party planning is for the birds....
Every holiday season for the last several years, I've helped organize a benefit for the needy kids in the area. The party itself is fun. Once you buy your ticket, there's music, free food, all you can drink...but getting there is a real pain in the ass.
I remember watching The Wedding Planner w/Jennifer Lopez and thinking what a wonderful job it would be to plan big parties. You get to wear pretty clothes and plan something that is special, or fun, or for the greater good....Hah! It's really a bunch of spreadsheets, counting numbers and meeting with people that have fifty other things they'd rather be doing than talking to you. I feel like a damn bill collector, calling and harassing people about what their menu is, how many tables they're going to need, how we're going to get power to their booths.....and the worst, are you coming or not? All the while praying that the weather holds, that it's not too cold, or God forbid, it rains...
People totally disregard the R.S.V.P. aspect....I think I could write a book entitled "Laurie's Party Etiquette". It probably wouldn't sell too well, as I would just gripe the entire time about people's LACK of etiquette. I also have a job to do, people. Give me a few simple answers and I wouldn't be pushing it to the last minute. Procrastinators suck!
Anyway, I'm in the home stretch now, so everything is just going to have to fall into place. There's no choice in the matter. I won't have it any other way.
When you were a little kid, did you have this picture of your life and how it was going to turn out? Remember that game, M.A.S.H? I can't remember exactly how it went, but I remember you would pick several careers, who you were going to marry, the car you were going to drive....and the answers where a process of any, many, miny, mo. I always had such a glamorous life, according to the outcome of my M.A.S.H. games.....
And another thing, when I was a little kid, hell, when I was a teenager I had this glamorous view of my prince charming. We are conditioned from the time we're little girls to believe some man is going to come in and sweep us off our feet. We should be teaching girls that men can be jerks, they sometimes are not very conscientious when it comes to wiping and they expect us to work and then come home and make sure their stomachs are taken care of, among other things. That's why, girls, you should at least get you a good looking man, that way you at least have something pleasant to look at, at least until they discover the pleasures of sitting around on the weekends with their buddies, drinking beer, playing poker and telling blood thirsty tales on their hunting kills.....Eventually they all get old...I figure I have about five more good years out of M and then he's going to go fat, bald and boring.
The Fantasy
The Reality
I don't remember ever playing the game M.A.S.H., requesting a job that I'm ignored while trying to do, driving a mini cooper and living in a house that constantly stays messy. Once upon a time, my home was my retreat, now it's just a place I go to maybe get six-seven hours of sleep before I'm gone to the next place. So long as my tub is clean, there are no dirty dishes in the sink and I don't have to squat over my toilets, I can continue to live there. But I won't even mention the laundry....
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