Party with Super Grover

My first week of married life has been... just like all the past weeks of my unmarried life. Ha! But seriously, it's been nice. The Dude's been working normal hours, so we haven't been holing up and enjoying each other's company and letting our lives sink in a bit. But that is what a honeymoon is for. We're going to be evaluating our options very, very soon. I'm being vague on purpose. How cryptic of me.

Tonight we're going to the McPal house for a belated Halloween/birthday/housewarming party. I haven't seen their place since they took possession of it, and there's plenty of hard work to feast our eyes on. Their last coach house was so lovely and their new house has all kinds of endearing potential. And the stories surrounding its renovations and McPal's dad are the stuff of literary gold.

The Dude is attending this party as Super Grover. It really is one of the better costumes pretty much ever. I'm a pin-up sailor, which in other words could be called nothing special. It's a costume I had bought for Fake Prom Goes To War, but had settled on a '40s inspired nautically themed dress instead. So as not to be wasteful, I'm wearing it now. But I'm already fantasizing about next year when I can be a Ninja Turtle, or Hello Kitty.

Before I go, I'll leave you with a couple teasers from the wedding. We haven't gotten our pictures back yet (That'd be remarkably quick!) but we have gotten some lovely shots to tide us over while we wait.

Patry Hardy, Sicky Icky

I'm sick. The Dude's brother's wedding is done, the Halloween party is over and I've contracted a sore throat bug that's been going around and I can barely swallow. Dude's out getting me some Buckley's in the chill and rain as I write this. God love 'em.

This weekend really kicked my ass, whilst kicking some ass in general. The wedding was a pretty attractive and delicious affair, which every wedding should be if it can be managed. I always get a little teary-eyed during the vows or the dance. Usually only if I have faith in the union. And since I do for this one, I got a little misty while the officiant was reading off the vows and seeing the bride smile at the groom. I love love.

I couldn't help but think of my own upcoming nuptials, though it's a year away. And when the wedding was over I thought of the "now what" part. They're going to continue work on their house and everyone is going to be curious about potential children. Marriage always seems to lead in that direction. Few people get married without wanting kids, and in fact I think a lot of couple choose marriage because they want children and don't want to procreate outside of marriage. I've heard a number of people ask why get married if you're not going to have kids? But some couples just want to be together for life, and share everything sans children. And those marriages charm me in different but equally nice ways.

Honestly, I can see the appeal, too. I think I would regret not having children. I want the joy and challenge of raising them. But I'm not a baby person. Oh, I like babies the way an average human being does. And babies born to people I care about give me a happy feeling. But I don't really respond to them the way I do to kids. Kids, I like. Hell, I feel like I'm on their wavelength sometimes. Kids and I tend to get along.

If I had to adopt in order to be a parent, I'd want to bypass the baby part. I think only my raging maternal post-delivery hormones could induce me to fall in love with and happily care for an infant. But a 3-year-old kid? That would be more my speed.

But here I am digressing from my weekend. McPal and his boyfriend's Halloween party was the very next day and I was the queen of hearts. I kinda spent a little more than usual on my costume this year and I lucked out when a makeup artist friend of mine offered to do my makeup. These two things won me the best costume prize! w00t! It's a big chocolate ball of happiness. When I'm feeling better, I'll dig in and gain 4.2 pounds.

The party itself was bitchin'. What a good time. I love people who dress up. Though I'm sick and don't want to go anywhere or do anything, I'm still kinda bummed it's over.

Ooh, the Dude is back. Time for some relief from my achy sufferings.

Me and the Dude at the party.
I hope I need not point out that is a mask.

The Night After

I am riding the waves of one of the more epic hangovers I've had in some time. I went to a bachelorette party for my sister-in-law to be. I've never actually been to one before, as I have very few friends who are married. I usually cut myself off at two units of alcohol in a night out. Why? Because that's usually enough to get me to drunk town, but not enough to buy me a ticket on the porcelain express.

Well, I had eight units last night. And somehow, some way (I'm thinking all the food, a drinking break for two hours and some reasonable pacing) I didn't get sick. Oh, I'm feeling sick now, but I managed to hold my dignity last night, or at least most of it. The Dude and his father, en route home from the respective bachelor party, picked me up and propped me up and got me home, having a good laugh at my expense.

We're talking four glasses of wine, a champagne toast, a screwdriver, vodka lemon shot and a gin and tonic I was told was water before I took I giant swig of it.

I'm getting too old for this. And yet this is a record amount of les bouze for me. God, I could go for some bacon right now. The Dude, his dad and step brothers are out at boys brunch, probably recapping their evening, which sounded like it covered all the bases. I was promised a greasy meal when Dude gets home. My stomach is begging for something fried.

I had fun. I'm paying for it. But I had fun. And the bride's friends are great.

*Rumble* Oh, the pain... Bring me bacon!

Oscar Night

I like having parties. Since moving to this place a little over five months ago, we've had about three of them, and guests over for dinner as well. I like it. Entertaining makes me happy.

Last night was an Oscar party. It was a dressy night and I made up ballot cards for everyone to make their picks. We ate hors d'oeuvres, and hooted and hollered when one of us got a pick right. The Dude and I had a prize handy for whoever won: a domino trophy he found in Value Village titled, "Monte Carlo Superstars 1990". Oh yeah. It was '80s style tacky kitsch, blue and red metallic shapes sitting on a fake marble base with a gold-painted domino seemingly riding a wave out the top of the trophy.

It was quite possibly the most ridiculous looking award I'd ever seen. McPal won and, boy, was he excited to take the thing home. I love my friends.

There was a lot of wine downed last night, by my standards anyway. About three glasses for me. I'm feeling a little groggy and sluggish. I also know I consumed potentially two days worth of calories last night. I went to bed with a distended stomach. Since I have to go to the tailor's to get my bathing suit and try it on, that may pose a problem to my self esteem.

Oh well. Still worth it.

Who caught the Kanye moment of the evening? This woman, Elinor Burkett, jumped onstage while the director for Music By Prudence (documentary short) was giving his speech. She then took over the mic, talked over him and dude was just barely able to thank his wife before the music began and they were ushered offstage.

This woman was a producer who had removed her name from the project, and apparently the director, Williams, had not been taking her calls. Call me crazy, but I'm pretty sure the director whose name is on the project should be the one to accept the award, and that once she saw him up there, she could have had the grace and manners to leave it be.

The funniest thing about this, I think, is just like being a hog is now called Bogarting, interrupting people's moment to shine onstage is now called a Kanye.

Party

The party went well. It was small, but everyone, most of whom did not know each other, all had good, animated conversation. The cats were a big hit. They were so sociable and cuddly. Someone brought them catnip, and so they spent the evening high as kitty kites. The Dude and I were very pleased with ourselves. It was the first party we've thrown as a couple. It was the second party I've thrown since I've finished college.

Actually, come to think of it, I don't think I threw any parties in college.

No Hostess with mostess

The Dude and I are throwing a housewarming party. Sort of. It's a small gathering of people in the city who've expressed an interest in seeing the new place. I'm not even sure why I wanted to throw an actual party. I really get a type of performance anxiety about throwing them. Back in the day it would be easy: beer. Pizza. Done. If you're between the ages of 18 to 23, your interests include getting drunk and taking pictures of being drunk. These days it goes one step further of posting it all on the internet. It's crude, but hells bells if they're not easy to please. Beer = fun.

But the youngest person at this party will be 25, 26? The oldest somewhere in the 30s. So I'm pretty sure it needs to be a bit more entertaining.

There will be beer and pizza at the party, but what else? There's going be people who've never met before. The more I think about it, the more I'm wondering how they will all mesh. I'm not too sure why I do this to myself. I'm a low-key kind of person. I don't do concerts, bar hopping, big house parties, etc. A party hostess, I am not. I'm the anti-Mrs. Dalloway (which for the record I just read and I didn't like it. Virginia Woolf, man, WTF.)

Blarghghgh.

Now, I have no idea who reads this puppy. If anyone who does happen to read wants to toss me some suggestions on how to make a housewarming party good, I'll gladly hear it.