It’s only seven months until my Big 5-0 and I’m panicking. Not about turning 50 … I’m blanking out the horror of that … but about the party details – they’re doing my head in.
Yep, yep, yep. I know what you’re thinking.
I ran into my friend Mel at the eldest’s art school last night and was crestfallen to discover she can’t night walk and workshop it for two whole weeks. By then there will only be 206 days until March 17 and there’s still so much to decide.
The biggest question is whether to have the party at home or the local bowling club?
My place would be a great party house if I hadn’t run out of money for a deck during my renovation. It could be a bit hazardous if people topple out the French doors onto the faux terracotta tiles a metre below.
Oh and geez there were a lot of ground-in Cheezels to vaccuum from the carpet the morning after my last party at home. If I hold the bash at the bowlo I can wobble out and leave all that orange dust behind.
Recalling my last party – which has become a little legendary in the neighbourhood for the level of hangovers it produced – lead me to revisit a blog I wrote about it three years ago.
I got such a shock when I saw the photos – my GAWD I was skinny back then …
I want that body back, but it was honed by six months of post-separation trauma. I’m not sure happy me has the required mettle.
Anyways, back to that last party … It had an ’80s theme, with flashing lights, an LED disco ball and a smoke machine …. Oh, and I spent a day tacking up tinsel door curtains, hanging extra disco balls and coloured lights, clearing the place out and prepping food. That was stressful.
I have no idea how I’d manage to decorate a whole bowlo and retain my sanity.
Everyone dressed up ’80s style for the last one too. My really cool friends Guy and Sue (aka David Lee Roth and Joan Jett) turned up and made all the school mums and dads’ eyes go wide. Everyone thought they were gatecrashers and couldn’t believe I knew them, especially when Joan whipped out her electric guitar for a rousing rendition of “I love rock n roll”.
That was bulk fun, but I think just having the youngest flit around as a leprechaun might do it this time. Though there’s still an enticing bag stuffed full of fluoro finery in the top of my wardrobe.
Or maybe the dress code should be “get lucky” … it being St Patrick’s Day and all.
I reckon I’ll go for ’80s music again, I love a trashy boogie. The youngest is trying to talk me into a flashing dancefloor rather than a smoke machine this time around. (I don’t think I have the budget for either.)
I used a friend’s sound system at the last party, which kinda did the trick because the loungeroom was tiny. The bowlo is huge. I wonder what its sound system is like? Would I need to hire a DJ?
And as for the booze … the cocktails ran out at around 9pm at the last party. I’d naively figured $180 worth of spirits would do the trick, along with 2 packs of West Coast Coolers. Nup. They lasted an hour. No hostess with mostess rep for me. Though somehow everyone still managed to get completely off their trolleys.
If I hold the 50th at the bowlo there’s no chance of the eskies running dry. But there’s also no chance of cocktails – the bowlo is rather basic. There’s just the question of how much money to put on the bar. I wonder if a glass of Aussie sparkling at the door would do it?
And what do I feed people? A friend who had her 50th at the bowlo parked a pizza van out the front, which plied guests with slices all night. I’d better check how much that costs. My sister has friends with a food van who do loaded fries, maybe that would be better/cheaper/vaguely Irish?
Decisions, decisions …
Or would it be easier and less stressful to just to have a glass of champers in my sister’s spa?
When did you last have a party? Did it go off like a frog in a sock?
Song of the day: Beastie Boys “You gotta fight for your right to party”