Party Countdown 2007

I woke up at 8:00am on Saturday, the day of my party, to the sound of scary Jekyll/Hyde neighbor yelling in the hallway about how the upstairs neighbors were making too much noise, so he called the cops on them the night before. Apparently the cops showed up at 4:00am. Scary neighbor's young daughter was with him for the weekend and he said she hadn't gotten any sleep at all. It was unclear to me from my position safe in my bed to whom Jekyll/Hyde neighbor was directing this 8:00am rant, but this is a very bad way to wake up on a day when you are throwing a party.

My FreshDirect delivery had come the night before. This tower looks a lot more impressive than it actually is when you consider that FreshDirect has the habit of packing one item per box. The delivery was mostly beer and mixers and some prepared hors d'oeuvres. I wish I saved the boxes to make a cardboard box fort, but alas, this is one of the drawbacks of living in a small apartment.

I was still stymied by the number of people who had not RSVP'ed at all to the evite for the party. Evite makes it so amazingly easy: you just click yes, no or maybe. There is even a "maybe" option so exactly zero commitment is required from you as a guest. I checked the weather forecast and heard that neither snow nor rain was predicted until very late at night. When you have a birthday in the middle of winter and the weather calls for freezing rain on the night of your party, you can kiss half of your guest list away right there.

I opened my front door and saw a box of flowers for me. Who could they be from? They were fancy Todd Oldham flowers too! They were from LaHipster. The card read "Roses are red, violets are blue, I hope your cupcakes don't taste like goo." LaHip lives in Assachusetts now, so she couldn't come to my party. I called her to thank her for the adorable flowers. "Did you invite this person?" she asked when we talked about my guest list. "What about this person?"

"Um, no," I said.

"Why not?"

"Well, he blew me off, and I didn't think to invite those other guys."

"But it's a party and everyone loves a party. What about this person and this person? Did you invite them?"

"No, oh God! Why didn't you call me and remind me to invite these people?"

"Well, I didn't want to tell you how to run your party."

"But I need you to tell me how to run my party! That's what you do!"

I went across the street to the bakery to pick up my cake afraid that I had made a terrible error with my guest list. But for some reason, the bakery only accepted cash for payment, of which I did not have enough on me to ransom my beautiful birthday cake. I ran around for an ATM choosing to go to the Washington Mutual because they don't charge ATM fees for non-WAMU customers, however I got charge a buck fifty anyway. But at least I was able to take my cake home. I specifically chose a bakery located across the street from my apartment because I figured the odds of me dropping the cake on my way home would be severely decreased if I only had to cross two corners. The cake survived the voyage.

I went to Medusa in Park Slope for a hair cut and talked to my Pop on the phone. I told him that the worst part of having a party in my opinion was cleaning my apartment. We were both thinking the same thing: yarn. It's like I told Pop, if I want to be a crazy yarn lady and surround myself with balls of wool in the privacy of my own home, that's cool. It's just that I'm not ready for other people to know that's how I live. Pop suggested I purchase a leaf blower, empty out my whole place and just start from scratch. He was also concerned that I planned to break open a pinata in a city park at midnight. He thought that would probably violate several ordnance's and he said he'd call back on Sunday to see if I was in the joint and if he needed to wire bail. Then he gave me some parting words of wisdom. "Don't get drunk, because you vomit. You vomit when you're sober. And, you know, don't be too upset about turning 26. You still have about five good years left. It's all downhill after 31."

I went to the liquor store to buy some white wine for mix into the punch and some hard alcohol. When I got there, there was a man "demonstrating" a new liquor he invited me to try. It was called Biscotti, I think, and tasted just like a biscotti. So I got to start drinking before I had even cleaned the bathroom sink. First he poured it for me neat, then he asked if I would like to try it in coffee. He had a Box o' Joe from Dunkin Donuts. If I had more time, I would have asked him to marry me. Of course, I was running way behind. I am late for everything I do, so it made sense that I would also be late for a party I hosted in my own home. As I ran around at home in my underwear trying to clean the apartment, set up the table, start heating up food and get dressed myself, I starting praying that no one would come at 8:00pm; then I realized it would be great if someone came at eight, because I could make them fold my laundry or send them out for ice and tonic. I began to get nervous because I had so much booze in my house and I am not the kind of person who likes to sit alone in my house and drink. There was only one thing left to do: hope that some thirsty people showed up.