This is a picture of me and how I will look at my party on Sunday. Before and After. I won't tell you which one is which. Ideally anyway, if things go to plan. Stopped worrying about the paper plates looking common. Half the room (in-laws) will think its a step down and the other half (my relatives) will see it as a step up. And how far I have come in life.
How in Gods name am I going to get all this stuff to the Town Hall? Crackers, cheese, serviettes and watnot. Let alone the 30 bottles of wine - with glasses. All of these things I never want to see again after Sunday. Well, the possiblity of wine maybe. On the dot of 12 when we're allowed in , there will be a supermarket sweep-esque rush to the main tables and with the aid of selotape and paper tablecloths (also common) we , or rather I, have half an hour to make it look approachable.
My in-laws will arrive on the dot of half past twelve, if not before. They're very early people. I've got to get a few cheeses out by then, surely! And as for that bloody cake! I can barely lift the thing!
Husband useless as usual. Who is going to supervise the cake? He asks me this morning. You are, I tell him. But i'm supervising the children, he exlaims. And you're also doing the cake as well I tell him sweetly. I paid for the thing, I paid for the parking meter outside the bakery, i carried the bloody thing to the car, the very least he can do is light a candle on it.
I know its my party but Husband has been really tight about it. I still need soft drinks and i'm going to ask him to pay for it on the credit card as opposed to my tired old switch card. And i'm going to ask him to pay his nephew for serving the wine. I cannot believe how he hasn't helped out.
My Mum will be bloody late. She always is. So she'll be useless too. What a carry on! Think I'll just get pissed.
The other night I went for a birthday supper at my mate's in London. She can't come to the party so we had an intimate supper instead. Driving back through Knightsbridge - as long as I see Harrods, i know the way back home - I realised I had been in central London more times in the last 3 months than I had for the past 10 years . I realise this was mostly due to childrearing but I constantly seem to be in this City lately. I'm bloody fed up with it.. Its alright for that stupid sod to have said A Man Who is tired of London is tired of Life. How many traffic lights did He have to go through eh? How many taxi's had cut Him up? How many places had He been ripped off at ? I tell you, he knew sod-all.
Will have Christmas then will go out in the country somewhere. Sod London.