Ok, so you remember how I said that I had this thing where I didn’t throw parties because I was always afraid that no one would come to my party? Well get this. BioGirl and Nordic Boy are throwing me a birthday party. And although I was totally excited when I got the evite, I was FILLED WITH FEAR. Let’s list my fears and laugh at them.
1. With the evite, all the names of the guests are listed. (My mind says) that if everyone says no, then everyone else can SEE. Oh the shame!
2. There was a long guest list. (My mind says) that people will look at all the names and feel less obligated to come. Because other people will come. It’s like donating blood or giving to charity. Oh, someone else will do that, so I don’t have to. Yes, I am equating my party to taking blood out of a human body.
Yeah. I am so warped. Like, more than I thought.
Last night after watching Project Runway (and how assy is Kenley, by the way?) I checked the evite and said, out loud: “oh my god! People said yes! They are actually coming!” To which BioGirl said “You have GOT to shut up. Immediately.” Which, granted, was warranted.
That is true friendship. Throwing you a party but also telling you when you need to shut up. That should go on a decorative embroidered pillow or something.
So yes. I am having a party and people are coming. Getting babysitters and marking their calendars and everything. Lookee that.
In other news, I totally fucked up my rug last night. My actual floor rug. Not my toupee. Not that I have a toupee. But you don’t know me so you don’t know that. First of all I sort of had this weird day at work. It kind of stressed me out a little, or more than a little. And then Nordic Boy and I have been doing all sorts of social plans separately all week and so we have barely seen each other solo. I got home from work at like 8pm last night, and he was leaving at 8:15 to go over to a friend’s house, and I was having people over at our house to watch Project Runway, so I knew we were going to have a small window to say hi-bye to each other.
Him: So, your dinner is on the counter in there, ok? I should be home around 10 or 11. I gotta go.
Me: Ok sure but-are-you-LEAVING-RIGHT-NOOOOWWWWW???!!???
I don’t know what happened in that moment, but I kind of turned into a weird cat. I started the sentence normal but my voice started to get higher and higher and I started talking fast and by the end of the sentence I was sort of howling in panic. Like oh-my-god-you-can’t-leave-I-have-barely-seen-you-this-week-and-I-had-a-really-hard-day-and-I-need-to-relax-and-you-are-my-relaxicab (as Rachel Green would say) and-I-am-this-close-to-losing-it-ooooooooowwwwww!
It was funny. And weird.
Then, as he was getting his shoes on, I brought my plate of food out to the living room and got the tv tray out (oh yes indeed I have a 50s style tv tray, doesn’t everyone?), put my food on the tray, put my open bottle of Izze soda on the tray, and then decided that I wanted to pick up the tray, with the food and open beverage on it, and lift it over the couch and take it across the room. And as I did this, here’s what I said. Out loud.
“Wow this is a really bad idea what I am doing here I mean this is an accident waiting to happen for reals I can’t really believe I would try and lift this tray over the couch because it’s a bad idea, bad idea, bad idea! SHIT!”
And then I dropped the whole tray on the floor. On the rug, actually.
Nordic Boy helped me clean it up before he left.
Him: So yeah. You were saying. Bad idea?
Me: Bad idea.
We’re hanging out, just the two of us, tonight. If we don’t, someone might get hurt.