Tuesday, June 29, 2010

You Just Know Something's Going to Go Horribly Wrong

To celebrate the big 4-0, my best friend and I decided way back in January that we should have a joint birthday party this year. Our birthdays are exactly four months apart, so we chose late June, right in between each of our big days, for the best time to have the shindig. Since it's summertime and parties, weddings, and the like abound, we sent the invites in early June to get the best response. Then I waited patiently for something to go wrong.

Two weeks ago, we hired a friend to paint our living room, dining room, and atrium. It was taking longer than he expected, and he planned on finishing up the Tuesday before the party. Sure, no problem, plenty of time to get things back into place.

Tuesday, I was picked to serve on a jury, expected to last through Friday. Well, that's just great. I was counting on using Friday, my beautiful 9/80 Friday, to get my house in order and spend some time with my best friend before the party. Still, no problem, we can do this.

Friday, our deep-freeze packed full of processed deer meat and one lovely deer head stopped working. I didn't notice it when I left the house at 7:30 a.m., but I sure as hell noticed it when I pulled in at 5:30 p.m. Gah, the stench! But what could I do? I still needed to pick up The Kitten at Gramma's, and The Tomcat was still in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico. (Actually what I think happened is my wonderful husband left the door open when he took ice out for his deep sea fishing trip at 4:00 a.m., but he will never admit that to me.) When he finally got home, the Clorox and Lysol treatment on the freezer and the floor started and lasted all day Saturday. We encouraged people to avoid the garage during the party, and we are still afraid to open the freezer door.

Even with all this conspiring against us, we managed to have a fun-filled party on Saturday night. Only one thing is missing, and one thing in the house is broken...miniscule in the grand scheme of things. And I was able to blame my hangover on a severe sinus attack. That's not wrong at all; that's just right.

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