It has come. I have been a COMPLETE idiot and decided to throw and impromptu party. With people and everything! Being a writer, I do NOT do things impromptuly; it’s tantamount to sacriledge. If I do dash off something, it must be revised unto death or perfection, and there’s no two ways about it. Except you can’t revise an impromptu party, can you? Well? CAN you?
As my menu, I’ve written down “Finger food and Drinks”, which I thought was pretty good… until three minutes ago. Then I jotted down a Guest List of 10 people, only three of whom I’ve invited, and including two whose telephone numbers were just emailed to me. I mean… Is it possible to be so STUPID?
Thankfully, I had the presence of mind to make a phone call to the right person -I have a Wiz of a Cuz, who has a quite singular talent for whipping things (and people) up to shape. Even as I write, I am sure she’s devised a budget, a resonable, delectable menu, and is planning to bake one of her irresistible I-may-die-fat-but-I’ll-die-ecstatic cakes that rightfully belong on the menu of a 6-star hotel. God bless her teeniest toes! I’m meeting her later.
Err… did I say the party was on Saturday? What was I THINKING?