(Amanda & Ian, near the end of the party)
I dearly missed having a birthday barbecue. But that don’t mean it’s easy.
- Gotta get there hours earlier, secure a spot at the park, occasionally fighting off other folks want use of my space.
- Then the start of the party, and no one’s arrived. So now there’s the anxiety that my party will be an abject failure. Constantly looking around, “is that someone coming for my party? yes? yes? no. that is a weirdo homeless person.”
- Then people do arrive! ALL AT ONCE. Which leads to me flitting amongst my various separate groups of friends, trying to get quality time with everyone.
- Some people arrive not knowing anyone else, so I try to pay them extra attention.
- Some people I haven’t seen in forever, so I want to give them extra attention.
- Some people have given me excellent presents, so I have to give them extra attention.
- Gotta make sure there’s enough drinks and food and utensils (never).
- Make it through half the day and realize I’ve ignored half a dozen phone calls asking if the party’s still going on.
- Make sure those who brought meat have given it to my dad, so he can slather it in his special sauce and cook it up right.
- Make sure nobody’s fighting.
- Make sure the new people I’ve never met before think I’m hilarious.
- Make sure the booze is hidden.
- Make sure I get at least a taste of every dessert.
- Make sure nobody’s making fun of anyone else (too loudly).
It’s a li’l bit of a circus juggling act. Damn glad I did it.
Think I sprained my pinkie finger.
