Sunday, September 10, 2006

Party on

Whew, i turned into a foot stamping 3 year old on my last post. But i am okay with it, because sometimes i am a foot stamping 3 year old.

(The phone just rang, we have caller ID. It was my mom. I didn't answer. I'll go down and listen to the message later.)

More party tidbits:

  • My brother hired this really cute young man named Earl to help out with the party. Earl was THE BEST! He made all the bruchetta, he put stuff out on platters. He didn't bat an eye when the old bat showed up 45 minutes early. He just went and put on his nicer clothes and offered them a drink. And he cleaned everything up afterwards. I want to marry him (well except i don't think i'm his type. He didn't walk in and say "Hi I'm Earl, I'm gay", but if i were a betting woman...) or adopt him.
  • Jesus Christ, old people can REALLY drink. They went through all of the wine and the champagne in record time. And this at lunch time. If i drink during the day it's nap time for me.
  • The Mister backed his expensive SUV into my brother's mini van when he was going out on a balloon run. Ouch. But as the bumper sticker says "Things occur." I found this much funnier than the Mister did, not that i let him see me smiling.
  • My aunt (mother's sister) told me how she hates to listen to my mom being so mean all the time to my dad (who really is a sweet man), and she tells my mom that too. Alcohol loosens another tongue.
  • One of my dad's tennis buddies' eyes are my chest height. And he made full use of that fact.
  • I was the hottest adult woman at the party. One advantage of hanging out with the 80 year old crowd.
  • I have lots of leftover beer.
  • But not for long.

10 comments:

holly said...

I'm glad you survived your party. I'm sorry that your mama is such a hag; she's totally clueless as to your greatness. Obviously you are worthy being loved, as the Mister and Em have proven, as well as all of your loyal readers. While I wouldn't wish your experience on anyone, it has made you who you are, and that's the person we all adore.

Carolie said...

Your party sounds funny and fun...but probably wasn't, as you were living it! Congratulations on surviving it.

I am so sorry to hear about your mother's emotional abuse and continued attempts to manipulate a situation.

I was lucky (insanely lucky, I am realizing now!) that my parents were loving people who hugged us, cuddled us, encouraged us; yet had the strength to tell us "no" and enforce it...to be very strict with us, without ever once being cruel.

My mom's got love to share, and you're welcome to come to any family gathering, any time--we'll adopt you and hug you and make you help with the dishes and admire your accomplishments and share your joys and sorrows and laugh at you like siblings, not strangers, if you do something silly.

Sorry to get all Hallmark card on you...but I'm serious. Any time.

kerrianne said...

Left-over beer is the greatest part about party-throwing, for sure. ;)

Sounds like a great time was had by all.
If you ever want to throw me a party, I'll totally let you. ;)

Josephine said...

Oh, that sucks about the SUV, sounds like something I would totally do...and old people drink that much?

They must figure there are only so many more of those kinds of days left...

Yikes!

marian said...

I have to tell you that I felt quite the same way about my own mother, although she was probably better to me than yours. But she was so flippin neurotic that it tied me in knots. And to be perfectly honest, I felt a great sense of relief when she died. I still do. Although it took me a while to work through all the shit and begin to let what love was there shine through. Which it did, also to my relief. I'm hoping I don't have to have any further relationship with her after death. If you know what I mean.

onetallmommao said...

Go Hot Momma.

And I *hate* chest gazers. The drive me nuts. "Hey, You...I'm up here!"

Mama P said...

I say you take all your experiences and write a novel. Since you'll be so busy becoming the next American writer, you can send me the beer.

Lucia said...

You may have just survived the party, but, whew, what a story it left behind. What income level are the oldsters? Might this have been a free-drink-it-up opportunity for them? They must've drawn the line at beer, though. Did the Mister imbibe a little before the SUV-minivan incident? (Men never seem to be amused at these things.) Kick back, have some beer. It's over!!!!!!!!

meno said...

hi holly, thank you for your kind words. I will keep them in mind as i go through life.

carolie, you ARE lucky, and i am so there.

kerrianne, the Mister is happy about the beer, as i don't really like beer much. Your party is next week.

josephine, These old people did. As the Mister says, they are from the generation where partying meant that you basically sat around and drank until your head caved in. (Watch an old Nick and Nora movie sometime to see what i mean.)

marian, i know EXACTLY what you mean. I don't think mine will come back and haunt me, but you never know.

onetallmomma, yeah, if hadn't been 80 i would have slapped him upside the head. Might have killed him though.

mamap, no beer for you! I nned to drink for my art.

lucia, these old folks all have plenty of money. They are just lushes. And, no, no beer for the Mister, it was 10 in the morning and he was on a pre-party balloon run.

Carolie said...

Cool. I'll tell Fearless Husband, the two brothers, the eleventeen first cousins (all lots of fun, all close friends, all 26 of them!) and the 'rents. Second cousins are on their own, but might sneak in anyway. We're southern like that-- but not in a Britney way.

Where shall I send the maps for Thanksgiving in Japan, and Christmas in North Carolina? Bring your pillow and your toothbrush--everything else will be provided.

Activities from which to choose: weaving/quilting/dyeing/various Laura Ingalls Wilder stuff with Mom; banjos and fiddles with Stepdad; potato guns and bourbon with Dad; discussions of art history and ancient civilizations over tea with Stepmom; hiking and nightclubbing with Active Brother; or reading in an isolated-but-comfy chair like Not-So-Active Brother. Other activities to be announced.

Guilt, manipulation and pre-written scripts are to be left at the door.