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March 25, 2007
I'll be Getting an Angry Letter From My Liver Soon
Actually, I think my liver has give up the polite art of letter-writing when I over-indulge in beverages alcoholic in nature. Instead, she's opted to spend the morning making me pay for my transgressions in copious amounts of bile.
I don't care. It was so worth it.
It's been forever since I've thrown anything resembling a party. About as close as I've gotten in the past year is inviting the occasional girlfriend over for lunch while our kids play. One of the things I love about the new house is it'll be great for entertaining. I figured my party-throwing days for this joint were over, to the point where I'd started packing my serving pieces for the move.
I have no idea why, just a few days ago, I thought, "Hey. I'm going to invite some girlfriends over on Saturday night. No kids. No man-children." Well, except B. He was our valet for the night. We did let him come up from the basement to graze, but he was pretty content to be banished from Estroville.
It was a small get-together, instead of employing my usual tactic of inviting every single human being I like. I even showed some restraint in inviting perfect strangers to my parties. Well, with the exception of two strangers, but two of my friends could vouch for them.
I also did something else different - I didn't use the party as an excuse to trot out my cooking skills. Potluck all the way.
You know, it's true what they say about Junior League women - they can't go anywhere without a tray of cucumber sandwiches. Laugh all you want, but there was only one wee sandwich left at the end of the night.
One thing I'll bet you didn't know about Junior League women: when they're at a party with a thrown-out back, they have no qualms about lying on the living room floor and drinking beer through a straw. Well, at least that's the case with the one Junior Leaguer I know. She drew the line at being humped by a Basset hound, though.
You know what's always entertaining at a gathering of mature, well-educated, responsible women? Pot stories.
"Someone once gave me a joint laced with a horse tranquilzer."
"My husband was so stoned he kept yelling, 'The squirrel stole my knife! You've gotta take me to Jack in the Box!'"
"The pot made me go deaf. He said, 'I thought that might have happened, since you've been staring at my tongue for fifteen minutes.'"
Don't smoke dope, Kids. Just make sure you know people who do so you can use their stories for your own entertainment purposes.
This is what I love about my friends: I've never been one to have one group of friends. I've always had a little sampling from all over the spectrum. Last night was no different. The Junior Leaguer with the punks with the artists with the mommies with the teachers with the knitters with the shy people with the boisterous people, and we all had something in common: we all really like to laugh at stories about people doing stupid shit while stoned, and bad roommates who "borrow" vibrators.
We also like wine. Some of us like it a lot. And food. Like hot wing dip on celery. And cherry cobbler. Or lots and lots and lots of brie. And cheddar. Chicken salad and cucumber sandwiches. Frozen Wolfgang Puck pizza and a cheesecake sampler. Pouffy little lemon squares. Cool-Whip Lite by the spoonful. We were well-fed as well as well-drunk.
And speaking of drunk, I think the spirit of joyous goodwill brought on by this gathering affected my entire neighborhood. When one of my friends was circling the block in search of a parking spot, who should offer his driveway other than that drunken ass who builds dunebuggies? Really! I just wish he'd had a dunebuggy in his driveway so I could have gotten a photo of my friend's Audi station wagon beside it.
I hope that spirit carried over into today. We got a call at 12:30 that someone wanted to view our house at 2. B. and I were both still in jammies. Two tubs of leftover beer, soda, white wine and melted ice sat in the hallway, and my liver was stomping around the bathroom in moral indignation, leaving a puddle of partially-metabolized Zinfandel in its wake. We cleaned the house and ourselves, hoping that the aroma of booze, brie, Swisher Sweets, precious girlfrienditude, and enraged entrails would entice these people to buy our house. You'd want to buy that house, wouldn't you?
Posted by Robin at March 25, 2007 04:13 PM
Comments
Hot wing dip?
Please elaborate!
Posted by: pharmgirl at March 25, 2007 05:28 PM
I knew this would be a good post when I read the title.
Your party was awesome for many reasons, mainly that I stayed up past 9 pm!
We must do this once a month! I am still soaring on a "fun high"!
Posted by: allison at March 25, 2007 06:01 PM
I hate living a zillion miles away from you. I miss everything fun. I would have had the best time there. I knit! I know and love the Junior Leaguer! I have fantastic weed smoking stories! And my liver likes abuse!
Posted by: Dixie at March 25, 2007 06:11 PM
It was, indeed, both a hoot and a holler. I can't remember when I've laughed so hard. Thanks again.
Posted by: Summer at March 26, 2007 08:19 AM
When you drive home massaging your cheeks because they hurt from laughing so much, you know it was good times. :)
P.S. There is no such thing as "borrowing" a vibrator; by definition, a borrowed vibrator is stolen. Right, you-know-who-you-are? ;)
Posted by: Stace at March 26, 2007 10:14 AM
Hot wing dip wasn't my creation, unfortunately. I'm not sure what's in it. I recommend that you visit Tempe and send her two emails a day, every day, demanding that she make it for you. Then, sing the Payback is a Bitch song on my behalf.
Allison, are you hosting next month? I love the idea of making this a regular get-together! It was easy and cheap to throw together, and so damn much fun.
Dixie, next time, hows about we give you an early-morning drunk dial so you won't feel like you're missing out? We'll gladly do it!
Summer, I'm eating brie for breakfast right now, thanks to you. So glad you were able to make it!
Stace, I didn't find that bottle of Alize you left in my fridge until 2 AM Sunday morning. And then I laaaaaaaaaaughed.
Posted by: Robin at March 26, 2007 10:30 AM
Like I said, the beer is always tastes better at Poppy's house even out of a straw.
I loved every second of it. Allison's story about the girl in the bar was classic and of course I hung on every word Stacey uttered. GOD, I was good to see her.
And next time, we're gonna get an irrational fear report from Summer. I'm not sure what it will take but, collectively, I figure we can sqeeze it out of her.
Kat's hair was so dang cute. Yes, that is the main thing I've been thinking about since I left, but some reason the wack factor of my hair obsession might not be as high with this crowd.
Did I just say "high?" I think I might need 15 minutes of "alone time....not THAT kind of alone time."
I don't think I've ever been around such talented, smart, beautiful and funny women in my life.
Thanks for a great night, Poppy. Definately a night to remember.
Posted by: pkb at March 26, 2007 01:13 PM
We sold our house in a similar situation - morning after a party, didn't get the message from the realtor until we had less than one hour to prepare - signed an offer later that day.
I wish you much luck!
Posted by: Ann at March 26, 2007 02:43 PM
Wikipedia says that "Alize was mentioned in 30 top 10 singles from 1995-2002."
Your assignment is to go figure out what they were. HA! Just kidding. :D
P.S. Lisa it was great to see you too!
Posted by: Stace at March 26, 2007 04:10 PM
I'm definitely calling your drunk asses the next time y'all get together!
Posted by: Dixie at March 26, 2007 04:15 PM
B. showed me the Alize. I shuddered, "The last time I drank something that color, I puked out of a Jeep in Gloucester, Massachusetts".
Posted by: allison at March 26, 2007 05:09 PM
JEALOUS. Damn geography! It's 2007...why hasn't anyone perfected a cheap, easy-to-use home teleport unit yet? Total gyp.
Also: mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm, brie.
Posted by: michelle/weaker vessel at March 27, 2007 09:11 AM
pf. sorry i was such a flake and was one of the two strangers you invited who ultimately never showed. i must have come down with a nasty case of sleep deprivation from the copious amounts of caffeine i had ingested over the past few days prior to chilicraft. i feel like i spent the rest of the weekend mumbling and dozing off at inappropriate times. all's well now. just wish i made it out there! how are ya??? any closer to moving to da eas'side?
Posted by: raquel at March 30, 2007 08:00 PM
