Bloody iinet have informed me that I will hopefully maybe have internet access by close of business Friday. A mere three weeks after I moved house.
It doesn’t allow much time (or comfort) to burn CDs for my 80s party from the Cloud.
Fortunately my friend Lara’s hubby is coming to the party (so to speak and literally) with the 5-6 hour song mix he created for my sister’s 40th (also 80s themed – it runs in the family).
My sister’s 40th was bulk fun, my housewarming won’t come close. Everyone went mad with their costumes. One bloke came as a Rubik’s cube, there were guys in long wigs, platform boots and skin-tight pants with pairs of socks stuffed down the front …
But I’ll do my best. The smoke machine, “intelligent lights” (whatever they are) and LEDs have been booked; music is now under control; speakers have been borrowed; fluoro outfit is sorted; so has spray tan (my friend Mel is offering an Lana’s housewarming special of $20 per tan – bargain – bookings at 0412 289942) bought solar-powered garden lights at Bunnings yesterday; disco balls have been hung …
I’m not obsessed. Nooooooo!
There’s just the tricky matter of apologetic notes to neighbours to write. Yay.
I have no idea why I organise parties, because they freak the bejesus out of me. I panic so much about no one turning up, it almost brings me to the brink of hyperventilation.
Especially now people have hit their 40s – so tempting to change your mind and decide on a quiet night instead.
I will be a jittery mess on Saturday. And that may mean too many taste tests of the Sex On The Beach punch waaaay too early in the night.
I know I’m acting like it’s my second childhood, but I don’t have the same stamina this time around.
It’s that delicate balance between being the life of the party and vomitting in someone’s beret at 10pm (been there, bought the T-shirt).
I’ve charged the school mums with reminding me to DRINK MORE WATER.
Ooooh, I’m a bit excited. Tainted Love is calling my name …
Three sleeps to go!