A lot of stuff I've said Yes to recently has been pretty easy (going to see the final dress rehearsal for Dividing the Estate, which I did last week, or going on a ghost tour of the Merchant's House Museum, which I'm doing tomorrow), but I recently said Yes to something pretty difficult.
We're gonna throw a housewarming party.
The idea of this fills me with dread. It's weird, I know, but it seriously scares me.
What if no one comes? What if they have a bad time? What if they hate the food? What if they steal my things? What if the gerbils get upset? What if they stand on our bed while wearing shoes? These are all stupid fears - we're only inviting a handful of friends that are trustworthy, well-behaved and non-judgmental, but I'm still worried.
I'm frequently uncomfortable with anyone, even people I know and like, being in my house. Case in point, back in St. Augustine I frequently turned away would-be guests from my eccentric and spider-filled studio. Here in NYC, I've had almost no one over to any of my apartments ever.
One-on-one guests are bad enough (though, strangely, Julie came over last night to sketch Cakey, and that wasn't uncomfortable at all), but now multiply it to maybe a dozen people. Madness! And then add on all the hosting responsibilities. Lunacy!
It brings to mind the only party we ever had at my house when growing up. It was my brother's birthday. He was probably six or seven, so I was just four or five. And for some reason (I'd guess because my mom didn't understand the customs of birthday invitations or RSVPs), it was up to my brother to invite all his friends.
I don't know if my brother could really write back then - did he give out invitations? Did he just mention this party? How could these little kids be expected to tell their parents, and for their parents to take them seriously and drive them to this unfamiliar house? How did they even know the address?
I don't know what went wrong, but something did, because only one kid showed up. Just one kid.
Years later, I asked my brother if he remembered that party, and if it sucked, and he tersely replied that yes, he did, and yes, it did.
We never had a party in that house again.
So now we're gonna have a party soon. And seriously, this is probably the most stressful thing I've blogged about all year. Maybe even more so than getting my wisdom teeth removed. Madness.
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4 comments:
Tip: Have more food and booze than you think you will need. Either you have leftovers or extremely happy guests, or both!
This party is gonna be way, way, way, way, way, way, way, way, way more fun than getting your wisdom teeth out, and cheaper too!
i also hate having people in my apartment. like, a lot. i have a pretty good apartment for parties, but the idea that people my go in my room or put stuff on my bed or spill stuff on my couch makes me incredibly anxious.
I totally get party hosting anxiety.
I tried to throw a small intimate dinner party thing for my 30th. Almost no one showed. One couple and they had to leave early. It kind of destroyed my relationship with my best friend at the time (he decided to go on a date at the last moment and neglected to even mention it to me).
But listen to Sarah. I'll bring you guys wine and a house warming gift. (do you have a potato peeler?)
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