esrosedotblog

PARTY BOY

I have spent a long time perfecting the 'regrets' part of RSVP. Well, there is no 'regrets' part of RSVP but you know what I mean.

Given that I am turning into a party giver and all, I figure that it is time for me to turn a new leaf.

I plan to perfect the 'yes' part of RSVP or at least the 'yes, but' which is a little more complicated.

I am aware that once you give a party you start to get invites in response.

It has already started.

I have four events that I have booked now.

Two are definite yes's. People I know will be there and the event is managable which means that I can leave anytime I want to.

I will even be going to one party alone!

Stag.

Tonight was a 'yes but' party. A guy down the street foolishly gave me the invitation while I was walking Franklin.

I could have dumped it along with the dog poop and never told John about it at all.

But, I did not. It was the point when I made the decision to say yes. I even said yes when he gave it to me and I called with the positive RSVP almost as soon as I got home.

It was a holiday sing-along. Yes, but I don't sing any religious carols. I have had quite enough of christianity in my life—particularly in the last 6 years—and the baby has been thrown out with the wash.

The time was from 5-8 PM.

Yes but I reserve the right to arrive a bit late and leave a lot early.

It said 'holiday wear'. I said yes to that. I have lots of red and white and wear them all year long. John got out our Santa hats and we wore those.

The invitation said 'hearty snacks' so I didn't eat before I went. I hate unhealthy food and that is mostly what is at this kind of thing. Hearty means fat and carbos but I figured I could reverse the sequence.

If the food was not up to snuff, I would eat when I came home (early). I think that would be a yes but.

So we went.

Let me start with the crowd. We knew no one. I thought there might be some of the neighbors there; at least of the gay persuasion. None of any persuasion.

Then the carols. There was a bar pianist who was knocking out the standards. I thought I was back in Napoleon's bar in Boston. No carols. Not to worry. Good.

No one else, except for the women, wore holiday outfits and what outfits!

Hearty snacks. Yes. Sort of. But a little hard to decipher.

We went. I said that. We looked at the house. Nice. We paid our respects to the host. He is a nice guy.

I spent quite a bit of time with his mother with whom I share a lot. Let me put it this way. We were both drinking soft drinks.

I cannot bitch about any of it really. It was nice. But I am limited as to my small talk and there was no one to lay my miniature mots on.

We came home after half an hour.

Mission accomplished.

We made a neighborly gesture. I got to try out my introvert-stress levels in a relatively disconnected situation and we got to see the house. Nice but very professional decoratorish.

Mostly, going and coming, we got to see the neighborhood at dark and the holiday lights that were up.

Once people start putting lights up on a street it starts others lighting up; chain reaction. We are looking good here in The Mesa—our section of Palm Springs.

And, best of all, John wanted to come home pretty much when I did. We do have a deal, when possible, that I can leave before him. We arrived and departed together.

The piano guy had still not played one holiday song. Not even Jingle Bells or White Christmas which isn't really a christian song.

We both had a nice supper of 'hearty' smoked turkey sandwiches with greens and Franklin got out of his crate after only an hour of isolation.

A happy family.