What was I thinking?

A week ago I was in full-scale housewarming party-planning mode: I had set the date, composed the guest list, and invited about half of the guests. I had even written something to post on the blog, inviting all of YOU to come to the party.

But then I invited Angela and she asked “Why would you want to have a party?”

Why indeed. Good question. I was stumped. And the more I pondered the question, the stumpeder I got.

How would I get the house ready in time? Where would I put all the boots? (I had a plan for the coats, but the boots were running amok in my imagination.) How do you play music at a house party so that you can hear it wherever you are, but the people in the living room don’t have to scream to have a conversation? How do you have a party for 50 when you only have seating for five? What if nobody came? What if everybody came? What kind of food would I serve? If I were to buy 45 more wine and beer glasses, what would I do with them after the party? What if my friends didn’t like each other? What about friends that I know don’t like each other – like the formerly married friends going through the vicious divorce – should I invite them both and let them duke it out to the blaring music in the living room? Or should I just invite one and hope the other one doesn’t hear about it? Etcetera.

I came to dread the party as it loomed and lunged and careened out of control on the horizons of my imagination. The more I thought about it, the more convinced I became that this party was destined for disaster and must not be allowed to happen.

So I did the unthinkable: I un-invited all the people I had already invited (at least I hope I did – I’m going to go out that night just in case I missed anyone.) I apologized but didn’t make up any excuses. I just admitted I was a complete flake. Within 24 hours of inviting Angela, the party came to a screeching halt.

My friends, being the good-natured people they are, were understanding, and some even thought it was funny to be un-invited. Two said they never really expected me to go through with the party anyway. (REALLY?) Three people said they were happy I was postponing it indefinitely because they couldn’t make it that night anyway. Orley said “I’ll be in Montreal that weekend so wasn’t going to be able to make it anyway, but we’ll drop by for those martinis (note the plural) sometime. Why don’t you plan a New Year’s Eve party, we won’t plan to go and won’t be disappointed when you cancel.” Several people told me they knew exactly how I felt, since they always feel that way at a certain point in party-planning, even though they’d never indulged their secret desire to un-have the party. But apparently I’m not the first person in history to do this, because Janet said this was the second housewarming party to which she’d been un-invited.

I feel good about not having the party. It’s more than just relief; there’s a sense of accomplishment too. After all, anybody can have a party, but it takes a special breed of person to not have a party.

Anyway, you’re all invited to drop by for drinks and see my new place sometime – just not all at once, ok?