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.
12 comments:
Jen, I'll be thinking of you tomorrow. Do you know I did bugger all for my 50th this year - in fact I can't decide whether to become 46 or 47. Is it worth it? I dunno.
Anyway, sod what your inlaws think tomorrow - let's hope you get some great presents and have enough to drink to enjoy yourself.
Jenny I so love to read your life!!
I hope it all goes well, and if not, that you are pissed enough not to notice!
Have a great time and blog about it afterwards won't you?!
Ha ha ha. YOu do make me laugh.
Enjoy your party. Paper table cloths are not common they are practical.
I love your comment about London, it made me laugh out loud, because you're right. Whenever I go back into London I amaze at how wonderful it all looks at night, the sparkly lights, the beautiful river, then it takes me an hour to get a mile and to get back over the bloody river to get home and I think, nah, not going back there for at least a month! Anyway, enjoy your party. Enjoy the wine. Hide a few bottles back under the table for emergencies...
Oh I do like to read your views on London. Every now and then - more then than now these days (isn't that tricky to say) I'm in the middle of the French countryside, stuck behind a tractor driven by a stubborn Frenchie, and I think ' Jeez, I should be in London right this minute'.
Then I read your posts and a 'Confused Take That Fan' comment and I think that I enjoy the dream of what it used to be for me and not the reality.
I echo what Suburbia says - please blog about the party in every glorious awful detail - when the hangover and stress levels have gone.
Thank you for your really lovely comments. Will give a blow by blow account.
30 bottles of wine have been delivered today. do you know how tempting it is to open them now......
He might have known sod all about London, but he did write a groovy dictionary (number one, in fact!). Look forward to the part-post, when you've recovered!!
l needed a laugh THANK YOU, brilliantly evocative!! LOL
I have just found you through bigbucketgirl and you are so funny. Amazing how it is your party and you do all the work. How do we end up doing these things to ourselves?
C'mon Jen, I'm dying to know how it went !!
Hope your party is a ripping success - as I'm sure it will be.
Just discovered your blog and now I know why I named the child in my book Jane.
Sort of subliminal recovered memory stuff.......
I looked at your profile books - we must be some of the few people on the planet who don't think E.Taylor can only be an actress.
I met Stan Barstow in 1966. He was charming. So there.
Greetings from New York.
Heavens, I've missed all of the excitement! Belated Happy Birthday! You're such a youngster, you know!
How was your party? Did you drink all of the wine beforehand? Did anyone turn up? Did you get bored? Did you lose your deposit? You've not still got a hangover, surely?
Thank you so much, sweeties, for your lovely and supportive comments. And welcome Retrorose and Elizabeth. Thank you for finding me.
Didn't get as pissed as i would have liked mainly because i kept putting my glass down and losing the thing! you forget all this about parties. Nor did I get my hands on any cheese!!!
And I lost 2 pounds on 2 broken glasses! xxx
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