In years past I’ve eschewed the wild times of the Eve to host a small dinner party on New Year’s Day. I like to tell people that I pass on the Eve because I’m celebrating the start of one thing rather than the end of another. Ain’t that all positive and ‘glass half full’ of me? Yeah, I thought so, too.
This year my hubris got the better of me. Rather than having an intimate meal with just a few friends I decided that it would be a great idea to invite everyone I know in the Bay Area* to an all-day open house/cocktail party type thing…
What the hell was I thinking? I’ve never hosted a gig of this scale before. I haven’t the foggiest clue how to pull it off (and not my hair in the process). And with my “I don’t need no stinkin’ help” tendencies I’ve just set myself up for weeks and weeks of fretting and stress.
How do I know? Because it’s already started. Twenty days left until the event and I’m already starting to hit freak out mode. There’s so much to do! The cleaning! The kitchen is only half painted (if that)! And the menu! Ohmigod the menu! What’m I going to serve all these people? What, I ask you?
Deeeeeep breath. It’ll be OK. It’ll be fine. BobG pointed out that 2007 is the year of the pig**, so I can fill the menu with porculent nibbles. That’ll help keep me from getting too out of control or at least give me some sort of a target. I already picked up a couple cases of wine (bless Oddlots). That’s a start. I’ve sent out the invite, so if nothing else I can’t back out now.
What doesn’t kill me just makes me stronger, right? Right?
This will certainly be a learning experience. Assuming I live through it and don’t give myself some sort of aneurism in the meantime.
* If you’re in the Bay Area and you didn’t receive your invite in email, consider yourself hereby invited. Please just write me so I’ll know you’re coming.
** Yes, I know this doesn’t start until February. A critter as tasty as the pig deserves its party started a month early.