Monday 29 October 2007

I Love to Party

And this past weekend was full of them. First, there was my annual Halloween party on Friday. It's become a tradition among a group of friends that I, as the American, host the party.

When my kids were little, I felt really bad that they wouldn't be able to participate in trick-or-treating, since the British aren't too keen on it. At first I took them to a Halloween party put on by an American ex-pat group. But it felt artificial to me. Then Frenemy and I decided to do our own. We rented a hall, a friend brought his disco equipment, we did all the food, and I organised games for the kids. The next year I organised it on my own. Big Mistake. It was a huge responsibility, and I didn't enjoy myself. The year after that I decided to host it at my house, scaled it down a bit, tried to turn the top floor of my house into a haunted attic, was exhausted. But I'd set the standard so had to keep doing it. The year after that, Frenemy came into the kitchen during the party bearing 2 shriveled, brown balls. I asked if they were her husband's. They weren't. Frenemy and another friend had hidden baked potatoes the year before in my dining room and never bothered to tell me. The potatoes had been lurking for a year in hidden shelves in my dining table I never knew existed. Now they knew exactly what kind of housekeeper I am. I laughed at the time because what else could I do?

I didn't host the Halloween party last year because we were in London househunting the week before, so it fell to another friend in the group. And it wasn't the same. This year by popular request it was back at my house. As it will be next year. I'm going to introduce a theme, Saints and Sinners, and a new game, Find the Potatoes. I better go hide them now.

Saturday night was a different party altogether. The disco equipment friend is very good at marking occasions, particularly his own birthday. For his 40th, he rented a huge hall, hired a band and caterers, invited loads of people, some of whom chipped in to buy him a new set of golf clubs. And his brother thought it would be a good idea to hire a lap dancer. The friend's parents and his wife were there, as were many other women. The lap dancer stripped down to a G-string, stripped our friend down to his underwear, rubbed oil all over his chest while rubbing her breasts on him, put a collar and lead around his neck, forced him down on all fours and paraded him around the room. That was two years ago and we still talk about it.

By contrast this birthday celebration was much more tame. It was a masquerade theme and the men were encouraged to wear masks with very long noses (I think you get the gist). This was the party I was supposed to lose 8 pounds for. Instead, I put on three. One guest, the Party Flirt, told my husband he thought I was 32. Must be the extra weight filling out the wrinkles. Still, I felt good, drank loads of champagne and shots of a Baileys/Tia Maria/Vodka/Brandy concoction and suffered greatly yesterday. But no lap dancers, Thank God!

I was going to do a Monday Moaning, but at this particular point in time there's nothing to moan about other than the additional three pounds I put on. And that's not really worth moaning about. VI has recruited me to join her dieting program. I'll let you know how I get on.

13 comments:

Flowerpot said...

Sounds like a good weekend - nothign like a good party! And three pounds - pah - that'll go quick as a flash..

wakeupandsmellthecoffee said...

flowerpot: The three pounds are on top of the eight I'd already gained. It takes me ages to lose weight but it goes back on too easily. But it was a good weekend.

Kelly Innes said...

Find the potato...surely the point of the game is that you actually tell the person who is supposed to be hunting them...in my book that's enough to get you struck off anyone's invite list! This year is the first in a very long time where I will not be looking after kids and consequently participating in all things festive. Your post reminded me what fun/stress it is. You've made my day!

wakeupandsmellthecoffee said...

kelly: It did occur to me that they showed extremely bad manners, but I decided to rise above it. And I can always hide something in their houses (and did in Frenemy's).

Anonymous said...

Gosh, a very eventful weekend! Glad you lived to tell the tale!!

There's hidden food all over this house, no wonder we have a constant stream of mice. Didn't it smell a bit funny?

Crystal xx

wakeupandsmellthecoffee said...

Crystal: No, there was absolutely no smell (unless I'm just used to weird smells). If we had mice, the cats would keep them in check (I hope).

Bev said...

In my neck of the woods, Hull, treat or treating is picking up. Same effect as a party, you get dressed up outrageously, walk about looking silly, talk to strangers and end up feeling ill after eating too much (all the sweets they get) lol

Vi said...

Know she's your frenemy doing something like that!

Don't worry, I'll help you shift those pounds!

the rotten correspondent said...

I might have pelted her with the potatoes myself.

Sounds like you had a great weekend all around. Just try and block the three pounds out of your mind.

You're getting very sleepy...

Fire Byrd said...

Good to know you have such lovely pals!!!! LOL
Halloween party sounds fab, I loved the couple of Halloween's I spent Stateside, it's just such fun.
pxx

Lapa said...

MIGUEL TORGA

THE PLOUGHMAN OF THE WRITING

A SHARED PATH

In the 1st centenary of his birth

BY CRISTÓVÃO DE AGUIAR

Kim said...

That frenemy of yours is a piece of work. I hate to think what I would have said to her.

wakeupandsmellthecoffee said...

beverley: hi and welcome. Trick-or-treating is picking up a bit here too but the party is now a tradition. And it is fun, potatoes notwithstanding.

vi: I'm counting on your help.

RC: Frenemy wasn't even the instigator, but I blamed her anyway.

pixie: yeah, Halloween in the States is good fun.

lapa: don't know what your point is.

kaycie: As I said above, it turned out Frenemy, who got all the blame, wasn't even the instigator.