Party Buddies

I have so much dirty vessels left to be washed and dried.

The party was a great success or at least that is what I think. Everyone seemed to be having fun. Something to do, ask and say and for the others who could not do both a lot of liquor. I fall under the ‘ask and drink’ category. I don’t remember what I asked and definitely what the answer to my amazing question was.

These social events happen quite regularly during the first half of my marriage got on to my nerves. Adam wanted me to endure them as it would be conspicuous that a junior partner with ‘great potential’ has a wife who would not want to be an integral component in his career ladder. ‘The unsung rung’ they call the wives who wait in anticipation every day for her husband to return from the corporate jungle. Suppose to be a joke which I am not willing to understand. For the second half of the marriage, I had hoped of giving up attending all these parties. Being the top partner’s wife with no work on my hands, which otherwise means I have taken a break from my career to support my husband, I am now expected to throw theme parties at my home. And let me tell you I feel like an unhappy cat caught in the rain.

My husband Adam keeps urging me to start an ‘I throw great parties: Hire me’ studio for the general public. ‘Do what I do best and make money in the bargain’, he says. Believe me when I say this, I love him to the death but trust his money-minded marketing mind to come up with ways of strangling the fun out of passion which literally kindles my inherent itch to kill him. I think its every spouse’s secret desire. Every time he begins his rampage on this topic I am transported to the day when I realised how much I loved throwing a party. It was on our common friend’s birthday. It was the time when Adam was just ‘Adamn!’ I want to be his girlfriend and we were a bunch of geeky penultimate year graduation students. Our only friend who had the balls (had the inclination to do something other than just bum around college, basketball courts, malls, movie theatres and fast food joints) to join the National Cadet Corp. Kevin was landing that day which also happened to coincide with his birthday. We all knew this before yet did not bother to do any more than say. “Wow! He is coming in ten days, Wow! He will be here in five days, Wow! He is coming in 2 days”. Panic struck when the dialogue came down to “wow! Isn’t Kevin supposed to come to college in after the last class gets over?” Being the person who uttered those words of wisdom I was made to wear the party starter crown. I reluctantly yet gracefully, obviously after a lot of swearing and muttering incorrigible words in the rest room about how useless my classmates including Adam is, took on the task. I must say that even though there was heavy amount of pressure people did like it and since then have been a part of every organising committee until graduation and post graduation.

I remember and I can exactly pin point why I loved each moment of using my creative juices. It was because I was amidst friends who were a part of the excruciating planning process. They made it fun. I always said and believed that more than the event itself the planning and the background work was more exciting. I never liked lime light and these events gave me the perfect way to be responsible, have fun, use my talent and not necessarily have to participate in the event. Most of all my friends, who made every single mistake, every little miscalculation, every groom who tried running away, every singer who threw a tantrum over petty monetary issues seem like a piece of cake walk, every drunken uncle who had something to say in his niece’s wedding, every caterer who thought it was inappropriate for the bride to be allergic to sea food which happens to be his speciality dish and every cup and saucer that needed cleaning before the next marriage battalion arrives. My party throwing services came highly recommended but I couldn’t have done it without my girl buddies who never once grabbed the attention away from me and never retreated their extended hand of support.

I think I hear the door bell. It is them, my friends. Though it’s just helping me clear my house from the leftovers from the party, get down and dirty, I know my party is just beginning. I sure know how to throw a party . I know exaclty what will. Love, Friendships, French Fries and Vodka…