Party Host

I'm throwing a party.

I don't do this, the throwing of parties.  If I DO decide to get my friends together in one place, I usually choose a place that is away from where I live.  Caretta's.  Or Copelands.  Someplace with alcohol and somebody else who can clean up afterwards.

This is a "There Goes the Neighborhood" party.  Aka, a Sarah-Moved-In-And-Really-She's-Quiet-And-Well-Behaved-But-We-Like-To-Pretend-We-Are-Rowdy party.

I've invited everybody that I know that lives within 100 miles of my home.

I keep squashing the little voice inside my head that says, "hey, your house?  not that awesome."

It is too.  It's fucking great.  It might be little and old and goofy looking (especially on the outside).  It might be not new and fancy and have hardwood floors.  But it IS clean, sweet, and very, very Sarah.  It has fresh paint and touches of red and granite countertops and a goddamn HACIENDA, so beat that.

BEAT THAT.

And if you don't like it, well that's all right.  Nobody else HAS to like my home, just so long as I do, and so long as the baby does.  And we do.  We like it fine.

So there's that.  A party.

It starts at 7:00 (tomorrow), and so I hope that it's clear that I'm not providing actual supper-type food.  I'm going to have munchies, and I'm going to have drinkies.  And music.  That's pretty much all I am doing.  Munchies and drinkies and musicies.  Anything else will have to spontaneously happen, or somebody else will have to plan it.  No pin-the-mustache-on-the-bandito.  No dancing.  Maybe dancing.  We'll see.

I'm nervous, but I'm excited, too, if that makes any sense.  Why is it so intimidating to invite people into your home?  Nobody judges homes, right?  I mean, maybe if it isn't clean or if it smells like cat pee, but otherwise?  Shit, now I'm feeling insecure.  I have a cat.  I know the house is clean but what if it smells like cat pee...

Anyway, the good side of it is this. I'm taking tomorrow off, so I get to have a special extry long weekend, like extra-crispy, and the baby just happened to be off school tomorrow (not part of the original (recipe) plan), so that's good.  Good for my mom, who doesn't have to keep him.  Good for him, who gets to wear pajamas most of the day.  Good for me, in theory, who gets extra time with the baby, although I have lots and lots of things I want to do tomorrow, some of which involves coffee and alone time with Dexter*, but it's all good.

I'm having a party.  People are coming.  It's going to be fun.  Or not.  But who cares.

There will be drinkies.

And possibly dancing.

You should come.