I have problems with throwing parties. I don't know why, really. I think it may have to do with the fact that I once threw a party when I was about 16 and only one person showed up...The Mary Kay Cosmetics Representative.
The other reason I have problems with parties is because I once had a well-meaning boyfriend who wanted to throw me a surprise birthday party but he filched the wrong address book. You know how it is: sometimes you get an address book, get excited and start filling it with addresses and phone numbers--using your fancy glitter pen--of people you don't know very well. You just need some names and numbers to keep yourself busy writing stuff in your nifty new book. Anyway, he found that particular address book that never really ripened, and made some calls. I'll never forget the horrific two hours I endured at my surprise party. I didn't remember the names of the guests and we all just sort of sat there in a circle with sick looks on our faces. It was such a nightmare that I bet you they are still whispering about it to their friends and family and whomever will listen.
Come to think of it, there was another bad party. I think I was turning 12 and my sister was just born. I had a sleep-over and we weren't supposed to talk for fear of waking the baby. Worse, my parents wouldn't run the air conditioner (for fear of waking the baby) and all nine of us sweated it out in my tiny room with a record player we couldn't play and one of the gals hooked up to her asthma machine. Next thing I knew, she was crying to go home and a couple of the other girls called their moms, too.
But this blogging thing. I like my new friends, you people who read and comment. And believe me, I read what you say and do take your advice.
Like this here "dress form." I wanted one on a hunch and wrote about it. But you regular-thinking people warned me against the expensive dress forms and many of you suggested that I create my own. I did! I did! I did! I love it.
- Called HWWV and asked him to pick up two spools of duct tape on his way home from work
- Got a cocktail ready
- Dressed myself in an old t-shirt and pants that can be cut-off if in a pinch
- Placed some plastic around my neck
- Asked him to start wrapping me up, making sure not to add too much around the middle and a little extra in the chest area, whilst doing some cross-your-heart-bra action
- Asked for a refill, but this time with a straw
- Advised him to layer at least three layers of tape, except on the hips
- Asked him to cut me out of the form, up the back side
- Inserted a sturdy hanger, and taped up the seam
- Stuffed it lightly with fiberfill of some sort
- Taped up the holes
Looking at it, I'm not sure that it's really me. One hip is sort of higher than the other and my chest seems smaller than I thought. My middle section is slouchier than I thought, too. But hey, at least she can wear that beaded Koigu scarf I never wear. Maybe I can get creative. Just wish she had feet. If she did, the old Gucci's and the Escada's would definitely get some action.
(And HWWV: He's from somewhere in Southeast Asia...but that's all I'm going to tell.)