The Trials of Hosting

So, here's how I feel about throwing parties. Most of you know that I haven't been to a grocery store since 2009. Andrea loves to regale new friends with the story of how one time she asked me "Where do you get, like, chips and snacks?" And my answer was, "the liquor store?"

The last time that I threw a party was in 2003. My boyfriend at the time had a ton of no goodnik friends, but the deal was that if he cleaned up after them, they could be invited. I remember watching one of them sit in my kitchen and he had that look...the look that reality tv stars get when they're forced to eat 25 dragonflies or drink a jar of pickle juice and salsa together. The look of someone about to blow. Here was my dilemma. There was one bathroom in my apartment. I lived on the fifth floor, so there was no hope that he would get outside in the event of a vomit emergency. But, I really had to pee. When I couldn't wait anymore, I finally went into my bathroom. While in there, I heard my boyfriend's sister yell, "Oh my God, Mel, open the door!" I zipped up quickly and opened the door to my boyfriend's friend... throwing up all over my carpet. I vowed never again to throw a party.

Since October, I've been Ross and Rachel-ing it with this guy; let's call him "Bradley Cooper", or as I like to call him "Coop". On a recent ski trip with him and another couple, I brought up New Year's Eve and we decided that we would have a low key game night at my place. (This was all part of my elaborate plan to make sure that he spent New Year's Eve with me and not some other chick, but that's another story for another day). I had mentioned to a couple of other friends that we should get together on New Year's, so I sent an e-mail to those guys to tell them to join us.

As the days went on and as people asked me what I was doing for New Year's, my standard response was "I'm having Coop and some friends over. Come on by." And before I knew it, my low key game night had turned into a mini-party of 16. Apparently, according to my dad, I've been doing this my whole entire life. My mother would say to me, "Pick six girls in your class to come to your birthday party." And I would come home from school the week of my party and say, "is it ok if all the girls in my class come? Because I told them they could."

The morning before New Year's Eve, I did a quick head count in my head of how many people would be coming. I paused when it became more than ten and said to myself, "Now, that can't be right." But it was. I had no alcohol. No food. I didn't even have a place for all of these people to sit. And unlike my birthday parties, my mother wouldn't be there to do all the work!

And so, I made a list and I turned to my old friend, the internet. First, I researched the price of renting chairs and tables at the last minute. After my eyes popped back into my head, I sent a text message to Coop to ask him to bring some of his folding chairs to the party. Then, I started to think about how I was going to carry four bottles of wine, a 12 pack of beer, two bottles of champagne and three bottles of alcohol from the liquor store to my car to my apartment. And I googled "Boston liquor delivery." (Did you know that they do that?) After scheduling the alcohol delivery, I asked my co-worker who seems to host people at her house every weekend for some advice about the food. She gave me the recipes for some quick easy appetizers. And I realized that most of them could be found pre-made at the Market Basket deli counter. So, I ordered some platters. After this, I began to feel a little less stressed. It's not a lot of work to throw a party, if you make other people do stuff.

The one black fly in my Chardonnay was that I had to go Market Basket to pick up the platters. The weathermen had been predicting a three-day snowstorm. Blizzard plus New Year's equals crazy people. So, the store was a madhouse and probably not in the best condition for my "first day back". I've blocked out most of that trip. I know that there were shopping cart jams and crowds of middle-aged men on their cells with their wives. At the deli counter, there was a line to take a number to get in line. And I was stuck in the bread aisle for what seemed like three hours, until I was finally rescued by a savior in a blue smock with a bread cart. When my friends finally arrived at my house, I was sure to tell them, "Thank you. Thank you for being with me on this day. The day that I survived Market Basket."

Food shopping apocalyptic episode aside, the party turned out to be a great time.Yes, I've been living on Ritz Crackers, pepperoni, and taco dip for the past week and a half. But, having everyone at my place and ringing in 2014 together made it worth it. I may even do it again next year! Although next year, I'm calling Peapod.

Why I'm still single

Happy VD!!! (and that can stand for whatever you want it to...) In honor of VD, I decided to take a good, hard look at myself and answer the question that I often get asked, for better or worse, "Mel, why are you still single?" I think that it's a combination of things for a variety of reasons: character flaws, life choices, just plain dumb luck. But, I've compiled this list of the five major reasons, in my belief, that I haven't found Mr. Right-For-Me yet.

1.) I talk about computer games like they're real. I've realized something this week. I've been way too harsh on role-playing gamers who dress up like elves or fairies or whatever and have pretend battles in middle-school soccer fields. I do it, too! Well, not the pretend battle thing. But, after playing so many Nancy Drew computer games, I actually problem-solve like I'm Nancy Drew to figure things out now. And I think about Ned, and my best friends, Bess and George, and how much I miss them when I don't get to talk to them and...I digress. Bottom line is that I'm not that different from Eolain the Elder, or Jobias the Wizard, or Brian the Farmer or whatever.

2.) I start fights with people on okcupid. If it hasn't come across in my writing, I can be a bit sarcastic. And I also have a bad habit of not being able to let things go, as I've mentioned before. So, every once in a while I come across a dating profile and I can't help but write to that person and make some joke about why it sucks. For example, the other night, I came across a profile where the guy didn't have anything really to say about himself, but just had a bunch of links to youtube videos of awful music that he's made. Of course, this prompted me to send him a message that said, "Is this your dating profile or your music promotion page? Tough to say." To which I received a pretty nasty response, too juvenile to repeat here. Admittedly, I probably deserved a nasty response. But, why can't you just promote your horrible music on bandcamp or something and leave us daters alone? Anyway, if I stop spending my time instigating internet arguments, I may be able to find the right person.

3.) I have a Seinfeld and/or Saved by the Bell reference for any given situation. At a speed dating event recently, I had a conversation kinda like this:

Date: So, we only have 8 minutes! I have a very important question. What's your favorite cookie?

Me: Oh! I have to say chocolate chip. What's yours?

Date: I'm partial to the black and white.

Me: (thinking that he's bringing this up to see if we connect over Seinfeld) Aren't you worried about ruining your vomit streak?

Date: (with a blank stare) ...

Me: (thinking that I may be wrong) You know. Seinfeld? 'How's your stomach?' 'I've got David Duke and Farrakhan down there.'?

Date: (looking at me as if I had gotten his number from an AIDS walk list) Oh. I don't watch Seinfeld.

Me: ...oh. (muttering under my breath) where is that guy with the whistle...

That was the first time that I started to think that maybe it was me? As Elaine says, "Is it possible I'm not as attractive as I think I am?"

4.) I hang out a lot one-on-one with straight-acting gay men. One of my very best friends happens to be male and happens to be gay. However, unless you have extremely attuned gaydar, you wouldn't know that he was gay unless you had an extensive conversation with him, in which he brings up how many guys he's banged. We do a lot of things together. Go to concerts. Go out to dinner. Go to Red Sox games. And we see a lot of friendly and cute men...and I'm beginning to think that these friendly and cute men may mistake us for a couple. The next time we go out, I may ask my BF (dammit, best friend, not boyfriend!) to wear hot pants and a tank top, so that there's no room for error.

5.) I denounced an entire religion for ten years based on a very small sample size. I would say about 77% of the words that come out of my mother's mouth are either, "wish", "settle", "down", "nice", "Jewish", or "boy". She wanted me to go to college, so that I could be independent. But, I think that she secretly was hoping I would end up with both a BA and a MRS degree. And so, she did everything within her power to push me toward Brandeis where all her dreams would come true. However, I had been to our temple. I had the mistaken view that all Jewish men were "not my type". And I fell in love with Tufts during a campus visit and went there instead (although Tufts and Brandeis probably aren't that far apart in the "we have Jews" competition). I never wanted to date a Jewish guy. I avoided the Hillel Center. I shunned any "Jewish singles" events that happened during college and throughout my 20's. And then I learned...that Gabe Kapler existed:

Christmas with the Other Family

The holidays are a time to spend with family. Sometimes that family isn't yours. Anyone who is a part of a "so-and so" and "so-and-so" usually has to make the decision of whether to spend the holidays with their significant other's family or with their own. The smart way to make the decision is to figure out which family will be having more fun. (My sister's boyfriend's famous line is "That sounds like something fun to do with your sisters" whenever my sister mentions some holiday-heavy event that he doesn't really want to go to, such as the Nutcracker or the Rockettes.) But, there are times when you don't have a choice in the matter.

A friend of mine, who I will call "C", recently told me a Christmas story.* Every year, C and her wife have a day with the wife's family when they exchange gifts Secret Santa style and take part in a Yankee swap. Every year, C mentions to her wife that she might sit out this year. But, at the wife's insistence that C sitting out will disappoint her family, C decides to participate.

Their Secret Santa is an elaborate process in which all of the names (C, wife, 2 sisters-in law, 2 brothers-in-law, and parents-in-law) are emailed to a friend, and then the friend emails them all back with their Secret Santa assignment.

This year, C was excited. For the Secret Santa, she had her mother-in-law and had bought a nice pair of leather gloves. For the Yankee swap, she had gotten a cool pair of earmuffs with built-in headphones, perfect for jogging or walking in the winter weather. Everyone gathered at Sister-in-Law #1's house. The gift exchange was underway! C watched everyone exchange gifts, and when the exchange was over, she looked down...at her empty lap.

You see, Brother-in-Law number #1 had "forgotten" to get C a gift. C would normally be understanding about something like this...except that this is the second time that this had happened. So, C sat there watching everyone open their presents. C's mother-in-law advised that she thought the new gloves that C gave her were the wrong size. C's sister-in-law went into another room and emerged wearing her brand new pajamas. And C sat with her empty hands and her visions of sugar plums.

And when it came time for the Yankee Swap, C got a lovely...jar opener.

When C and her wife returned home, her wife wearing her brand new gifted sweater, C casually mentioned that she probably would sit out the gift-giving the next year. To which her wife responded, "What? You have to. It means so much to my family!"

*Name has been changed to protect the innocent's marriage.

Making Sexy Costumes and Costumes Sexy

Every Halloween, a woman is faced with a difficult decision. Does she go for the funny, topical costume (i.e., binders full of a woman, an unimpressed McKayla Maroney, a Hillary Clinton meme)? Or does she go for sexy? I usually choose an un-sexy costume only because I feel like I'm trying too hard every time I don fishnets. Did you ever really think about the sexy costumes out there and what makes them sexy? Some of them aren't based on anything remotely sexy. Who was the first person to think if I cut the midriff out of a police uniform and wear short shorts, I could be a sexy police officer. Really the only recipe for a sexy costume is to add a teaspoon of clothing, a pair of thigh highs and mix well. I'm sure most sexy costume ideas are based on the typical male fantasy. However, when you really think about fantasies and realities, they almost never resemble each other. Anyway, here is my list of sexy costumes that really shouldn't be sexy:

1.) Prostitute- The lazy sexy costume. For some reason, when a girl thinks of a sexy costume, she automatically thinks hooker. It's true that out of all the professions hookers wear the least clothing. But, for a sex-based career choice, the prostitute is not very sexy. The first thing that I think about is venereal disease. That's not sexy...unless you're Joey Tribbiani.

2.) Bunnies- Why did Playboy choose a bunny as their icon? Yes, the tails are cute...ears, not so much. But, bunnies, if you think about it are like squirrels. They're little rodent-like annoying pests that ruin your garden. They suffer from fly strike. FLY STRIKE. This means that actual flies lay actual eggs on bunnies that become actual crawling maggots. This is our idea of sexy?

3.) Nurse- Now, I know many sexy nurses, but what they do at work...not so sexy. Do you know what a sponge bath is cleaning off? Poop...mostly poop.

4.) Maids- Along the same vein, a maid does not have a sexy job. I do know that, like nurses, the reason a maid costume became hot is because of the fantasy that there's a woman in a short skirt taking care of you and doing your bidding. Guys like that idea. But, when is the last time that you saw a maid in anything but a polyester shift or mom jeans and a Champion sweatshirt?

5.) Bees- What is sexy about an insect that carries flower sperm, buzzes around your head, and stabs you? Plus, I can't see a bee costume without conjuring up this sad image from the Blind Melon video.

So, while I might sound cranky about these so-called sexy costumes, I do love Halloween, and I'm glad that it exists because it's fun to watch people dress up. I just think that women are inherently sexy. It doesn't take much to turn a man on...really. So, don't overdo it. Try being a librarian or a baseball player. I've heard it through the male-vine that the sexiest thing about a woman is when she doesn't know that she's sexy. Am I right, One Direction?