Here is some more neurotic information about me: When I give a party, I am always scared no one will show up. The first time I gave a party as a grown up, I was living in the east side pied-a-terre that belonged to a gangster friend of my father, and I decided to host a party like the ones I had attended when I lived in Switzerland.
Unlike the stiff cocktail parties I had witnessed growing up with the obligatory cheese straws and Rumaki (chicken livers, canned water chestnuts, and bacon…yup!), the parties I went to in Neuchatel were abundant and carefree. Everyone brought bottles of wine from family vineyards, homemade sausage, cheese wheels, chocolate, and baskets of fresh baguettes. People had fun and ate and drank well.
To get ready for my NYC party, I spent more than I could afford on wine, cheese, salami, and french bread. I set everything out and waited for guests to arrive. And waited. By ten o’clock I had consumed a whole bottle of wine, and by eleven thirty I started to get ready for bed. I felt awful and vowed to never again host a party. Then the doorbell rang.
Guests started showing up and by midnight the party was in full swing. All the food and drink were consumed and I felt better, but the fear remains to this day.
So when I hosted the Grand Reopening Bash on Saturday night, I feared that all the wine I had bought and all the pizza that the Fresh Pizza truck would churn out would be left over and I’d feel like an idiot.
I am very happy to report, however, that the party was a HUGE success!! Friends showed up and stayed! Serpentine Arborvitae and her accompanist heated up the cold night with their sizzling tunes, the pizza was amazing, and everyone had fun. Jim McDowell, one of my favorite potters, grabbed the mic and sang a song. Because I had not prepared the food and had no responsibility for keeping platters replenished, I too enjoyed myself.
As it is Thanksgiving weekend, I wish to give thanks. So much in my life is full, and like a Swiss party, my life is abundant and carefree.