Throwing parties is a lot of pressure. I give you Exhibit A – the Bitchin’ Camero Bash. An event safely locked in my memory’s hall of fame, the concoction of Jaimie, Leanne and I’s temporary ruling of the world. I am glad there was a time in my life I felt indestructible enough to walk the streets with these two ladies inviting anyone who caught our fancy – stranger or friend – to the event of the year. The actual party matters little in reflection.
Somehow (ouzo), Greek Fest 2008 turned into a success. But no one will ever know how nervous I was. Will people show up? Will they have fun? Will they talk to each other? My past is spotted with various sized-feats of party-throwing panic, most of which have gone to prove I am best as a guest. As Ash and I began to grow into a couple, we started a very adult party tradition of hosting Christmas Eve breakfast. This party more than any other has the feeling of permanence, the longevity of family and predictable (but growing) guest lists. I give it three more years of trial and error until it is my favourite party yet.
Then, of course, there is the party of my life. Of our life. Thirty days from today…
But first, there’s Halloween:
Have you ever seen such a beautiful peacock? And check out that dinosaur and trout!