Oooh boy am I tired, but I'm pretty damn sure we're, like, 95% ready for the (hopefully!) onslaught of friends and family who will (fingers crossed!) descend upon the house for our HOUSEWARMING BBQ! at 7:00 tomorrow night.
I've had to explain several times that we are renting, we didn't exactly buy this place, so technically it's a little strange to be "warming" someone else's house, and please don't buy us presents because technically we didn't really accomplish anything other than lifting all our possessions and transporting them to another zip code, so if you buy me a toaster, it's going to make me uncomfortable, but we've been cooped up in an apartment for so long, cramped in a space with no outdoor access, no means of barbecuing for crowds, no feasible way to host a large number of people...so we said FUCK IT!
We don't own this place, but we sure as hell are rockin' it at the moment, and we have worked hard the last month ripping out the overgrowth in the yard and scrubbing the house down and polishing it up and making it our own. It's party time, if you ask me.
I'm a little bit worried because I suffer from a lingering, sophomoric "nobody likes me" syndrome, so I've got this anxiety about having purchased way too much money's worth of food and incoming hangover from hell's worth of booze; about having spent so many hours planning this party that should have been spent recovering from my cold. If nobody shows up tomorrow night and forces Gray and I to beat the holy hell out of our little pinata by our sad, lonely selves...well I just might die.
Last summer, I planned a girls' night at the apartment - a Sex & the City party, if you will - complete with cosmopolitans and fancy little appetizers that must be purchased and consumed in bulk if there is any hope of staving off hunger. I bought an official SATC "I'm With Mr. Big" t-shirt. I bought the SATC dvd. I invited every friend that I have in the world that is dickless. I was SO PUMPED.
And then everyone cancelled at the last minute. And my "last minute", I mean all the food was ready to roll and the dvd was in the damn player, all queued up and practically begging to be watched. And Gray was headed out the door to do his pre-arranged manly things.
My Jill showed up for a half an hour, but she had been busting her ass doing yard work all weekend and was sore and tired and headache-y, so she left. And I spent the rest of the night pouting and re-living my 7th grade birthday party FAIL, and Gray spent the rest of the night fuming. I believe he even posted a largely passive-aggressive Facebook status, something about when people say they'll be attending a function, then he damn well expects them to show up.
So this time I'm hoping to spare everyone the shame of thinking possibly he's talking directly to THEM when he puts an angry face on his profile. I'm hoping we have an enormous turnout and that we nearly run out of beer and that the bonfire burns so long and hot that Gray ends up having to cut down a neighbor's tree simply to keep the party going.
I've always kind of wanted to see him in handcuffs.