It's My Party

I'm thinking of picking up another consulting engagement.

I suppose that's the good and the bad of having spent the past many years developing such a specific "skill." There are few companies that see the need for it. Those who do, see the need rather urgently.

And I am pretty much always incapable of resisting. But then, it's no news to me that I have a poor understanding of what constitutes "fun."

Of course, it's the worst possible time - IC and I are stretched thin as it is. But it's also the best possible time - we've just hired a small army of struggling actors/dancers/writers and apparently, they need to be paid in more than pizza and beer. Who knew?

So, to distract myself, I'll be throwing my quarterly wine-tasting get-together in my apartment at the end of June.

Rather than engaging in my usual calculus of various personalities and how they might mix (involving both primary and secondary guest lists), I've taken the opposite approach. I want this one to be a DISASTER. So I've invited near strangers and suggested that my friends do the same. EA has taken this to heart and will bring a match.com date.

Of course, I will hide my small valuables. I assume I will notice if anyone tries to smuggle my TV or piano out of my apartment.

SK is only surprised it has taken this long for my fundamental perversity to emerge in the context of these quarterly parties. And she is right, there has always been some part of me that believes a party is not a party unless someone has locked themselves in the bathroom crying.

At 7AM on a Thursday morning, with no sleep, it even strikes me as a great idea to invite Creepy Skincare Product Guy, Rock Lock Guy, and The Embryologist.

I am GIDDY with anticipation.

Anyone else care to come? If you know my email and will be in town, by all means, let me know.

Suggested attire for women: hoochie momma couture. For the men? Anything as long as everything is under wraps.