My parents were the reigning king and queen of parties when I was growing up. 2-5 times a year they would have these incredibly parties that would last for 2 days sometimes and would garner anywhere from 50 to 100 people at them. It was fun and crazy and that was a large part of my upbringing, seeing all these people from various walks of life, all come together in celebration of… whatever there was to celebrate.
After they split up, my mother was still the party queen and would throw one or two major bashes a year. This stopped about 2 years ago when mom decided she was burnt out on playing hostess and cleaning up before/after each party. He parties are much, MUCH smaller now, and less frequent.
I thought for a while that maybe I just didn’t have the party gene. That somehow it had skipped a generation. Every party I tried to throw in my 20′s was a miserable failure with a handful of close friends showing up – usually only around 4. That, to me, is not a party.
Well, this year I have a big shiny apartment and I’m turning 30. If ever there was another time to try again, this would be it. So I started planning a couple weeks ago and the party was last night.
And finally, after years of failures, this one was a success. About 20 people showed up through the course of the night, it didn’t go til all hours, but it went for many hours. It was a nice guest list and I had a fabulous time, as it seemed, did everyone else.
Some people brought me presents, there was no real mess and everyone had a really good time. Finally, a wonderful success. The last attempt at a party in my 20′s finally pays off.
Mom says “Your friends are weird”. Like she’s one to talk. I think I’m going to have to do this again… and again… and maybe, just maybe, now that Mom is burnt on the whole having a party thing, I can usurp her crown.
~FG };^>